Soaring gas prices and disrupted supply chains will ripple out to increase costs in every store and sector of the economy

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Vidya Mani, Associate Professor of Business Administration, University of Virginia; Cornell University

Americans are already seeing higher gas prices, but that’s just the beginning. AP Photo/Carolyn Kaster

The disruptions from the U.S. and Israeli attacks on Iran spread quickly to commercial aircraft, shipping lanes and the world’s energy supply. Those repercussions have already hit fuel costs, including for motorists, truckers and fishermen, and are set to spread even more widely, to packaging, household goods, appliances, medicines and electronics.

I study global supply chains and how they interconnect and depend on each other around the world. There are several ways in which U.S. consumers will begin to feel the pinch of the war. Some of those effects have to do with domestic commerce, and some are a result of the interwoven nature of global trade, where raw materials from one place are shipped somewhere they are manufactured into specific items that are then transported to consumers.

An aerial view of a highway with several cargo trucks on it.
Many products are shipped by truck in the U.S., and diesel fuel is more expensive now.
Justin Sullivan/Getty Images

Rising costs in the US

There are three main categories in which costs will begin to rise.

Fuel shortages and freight surcharges: From March 2-16, 2026, the average nationwide price of U.S. regular gasoline rose from US$3.01 to $3.96 per gallon, while diesel fuel rose from $3.89 to $5.37. Diesel prices matter to consumer costs because diesel engines power trucks, farm machines, construction equipment, fishing vessels and many of the vehicles that carry domestic freight. When items become more expensive to harvest, build and ship, diesel costs spread quickly into grocery, household and building material prices.

Chemicals, fertilizer and packaging: QatarEnergy has said Iranian attacks on the world’s largest liquefied natural gas export plant at Ras Laffan and another plant in Mesaieed, both in Qatar, forced the company to stop producing LNG and associated products on March 2. Two days later, the company declared that it could not fulfill its contracts due to extreme external pressures that would require many years to recover from. The affected products included urea, polymers and methanol, used to make fertilizer, plastics, detergents, packaging and other consumer goods. Reduced production and closed transit routes are also affecting supplies of aluminum and helium produced in the Gulf countries.

Factory slowdowns abroad: When shipping slows and energy costs rise, factories abroad face higher operating costs. As a result they ration production, diverting energy supplies to producing a narrow range of high-value products that can absorb these costs. Diversions of shipment traffic and fewer transportation routes lead to delivery delays. Economic research shows that shipping-cost increases also raise import prices, producer costs and consumer inflation.

Air cargo and delivery delays: Early in the conflict, several countries, including Qatar, Bahrain, Kuwait and the United Arab Emirates, closed their airspace to all traffic. Later advisories warned of risks to planes over neighboring countries as well, except for limited corridors. Those closures affected 20% of global air cargo capacity, raising the risk of delays for higher-value cargo such as medicines, aircraft components and electronics.

Global disruptions

About 80% of the oil and 90% of the LNG moving through the Strait of Hormuz, between the Persian Gulf and the Gulf of Oman, is destined for Asian markets. With strait shipments stopped, consumer electronics and manufacturing hubs in China, Japan, Taiwan and South Korea are drawing on their energy reserves and inventories. But those supplies will run out in a few months. Reduced manufacturing capacity can be expected to cause shortages and higher costs for textiles, chemicals, consumer goods, electronics, appliances, auto parts and fertilizer-intensive industries.

Europe is less directly dependent than Asia on Hormuz shipments, but it is still vulnerable to high LNG prices, increased shipping costs and diesel fuel shortages. Europe has also already faced shortages of heating oil and other fuels as a result of Russia’s war on Ukraine. The strait carried about 7% of Europe’s LNG inflows in 2025, and higher costs for energy, ship fuel, freight and insurance can ripple through global trade. For the U.S., that matters because Europe supplies industrial equipment, precision components, medical technology and specialty chemicals sold to businesses and directly to consumers.

African economies are especially exposed to fuel and fertilizer shocks. Large volumes of fertilizer pass through Hormuz, and higher energy and fertilizer prices threaten crop yields and food systems across most of Africa. As a result, U.S. prices can rise for coffee and chocolate – much of which originates in Africa – as well as critical minerals for electric vehicles, energy storage and high-tech equipment.

A person pushes a cart through a grocery store.
Grocery prices are affected by costs of fuel and fertilizer.
Joe Raedle/Getty Images

Coming home to Americans

This war is not a distant geopolitical shock for U.S. households. It reaches everyday life through fuel, freight, fertilizer, petrochemicals and global supply chains through factories that produce consumer goods.

Some mitigation is possible: 32 nations will be releasing more than 400 million barrels of oil to the global market over the next few months. There are pipelines and alternative ports in Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates that, if they remain undamaged and uninterrupted, can handle potentially 40% of the 20 billion barrels per day that was passing through the Strait of Hormuz. Combined with a temporary easing of sanctions on Russian oil, limited shipments to India and China through the Strait of Hormuz and the March 23 announcement of a five-day pause on U.S. and Israeli strikes on Iran, it is possible to head off the worst-case scenario.

But these measures cannot fully replace the strait’s normal oil and LNG shipment volume. And if oil production, refining and shipment locations continue to be targeted, recovery can be expected to stretch into many months. The likely result is broader inflation, prolonged shortages and longer waits for goods of all sorts, including food and packaging as well as electronics and appliances.

The Conversation

Vidya Mani has received funding from LMI. She is a Senior Research Fellow with the Mexico Program and Inter-American Dialogue and an Expert Advisor on Critical Minerals, Emerging Technologies, and Supply Chain Resilience at the Public Spend Forum.

ref. Soaring gas prices and disrupted supply chains will ripple out to increase costs in every store and sector of the economy – https://theconversation.com/soaring-gas-prices-and-disrupted-supply-chains-will-ripple-out-to-increase-costs-in-every-store-and-sector-of-the-economy-278349

Lady Gaga says she took lithium after a ‘psychotic break’ – here’s what the science says about this drug

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Dipa Kamdar, Senior Lecturer in Pharmacy Practice, Kingston University

Ray Geiger/Shutterstock.com

When Lady Gaga recently spoke in an interview about taking lithium while suffering from a “psychotic break”, it drew attention to a drug that has long been used in psychiatry but is less widely understood outside it.

Lithium has been used in psychiatric care for more than 70 years, most notably to treat bipolar disorder. Alongside this renewed attention, a recent study has explored whether much lower doses of lithium might help protect the ageing brain – raising questions about whether its effects could extend beyond mental health treatment.

But the science tells a more complicated – and more sobering – story.

Lithium is a naturally occurring chemical element, found in soil, rocks and water. Most people consume tiny amounts of it through drinking water and foods such as vegetables and grains.

In medicine, it is prescribed in the form of lithium carbonate or lithium citrate. At the doses used in treatment, it steadies mood by reducing how often and how severely manic and depressive episodes occur.

It is also one of the few psychiatric medicines shown to reduce the risk of suicide. In the UK, lithium is licensed for bipolar disorder, mania, severe depression and some forms of aggressive or self-harming behaviour.

Despite decades of use, scientists still do not fully understand how lithium works. What is clear is that it acts across multiple systems in the body at once – affecting brain chemicals such as serotonin and dopamine, helping the immune system function more evenly, and helping to regulate the body’s internal clock.

It may also slow some of the processes associated with ageing at a cellular level, including protecting the structures at the tips of chromosomes that tend to wear down over time, and supporting the tiny structures inside cells that generate energy. In the brain, these combined effects appear to make nerve cells more resilient to stress and damage.

This has led researchers to explore whether lithium might have a role in diseases where the brain gradually deteriorates, such as Alzheimer’s.

An animal study published earlier this year found that when lithium levels in mice were experimentally reduced, the animals developed more of the protein build-ups – amyloid plaques and tau tangles – that are closely associated with Alzheimer’s disease, along with faster memory decline. When lithium levels were restored, these changes were prevented. The findings are promising, but they have not yet been confirmed in humans.

Human studies have produced more cautious results. One trial found that a dose of just 300 micrograms of lithium – far below the amounts used in psychiatric treatment – was linked to slower memory loss in people with Alzheimer’s disease.

Another two-year trial in older adults in the early stages of memory problems found that low-dose lithium was safe, and that memory fared slightly better in those taking it than in those given a placebo. The difference, however, was too small to be considered reliable by the standards researchers use to judge whether a result is real or down to chance.

A 2023 review also noted that areas with higher levels of lithium in drinking water tend to report lower rates of Alzheimer’s disease, although the results varied considerably across studies.

The same review suggested that low-dose lithium might have broader effects beyond the brain, with possible links to heart health, muscle loss, bone thinning and type 2 diabetes. The researchers were clear, though, that the evidence is not yet strong enough to draw firm conclusions.

Lithium as a supplement

So what about taking lithium as a supplement? This is where the picture becomes less clear, and where the risks become more important to consider.

Lithium has what pharmacologists call a “narrow therapeutic window”. In plain terms, this means the gap between a dose that helps and a dose that harms is unusually small. People prescribed lithium require regular blood tests to check that levels in the body remain safe, and to keep an eye on kidney and thyroid health. Without medical supervision, none of that monitoring is likely to happen.

Lithium is processed by the kidneys and can build up in the body, particularly in people who are dehydrated or eating a low-salt diet. It also interacts with a number of commonly used medicines, including anti-inflammatories such as ibuprofen, blood pressure treatments such as Ace inhibitors like ramipril, and water tablets such as indapamide.

These interactions can push lithium levels higher in unpredictable ways, even when the dose being taken seems small. Too much lithium in the body can cause trembling, confusion, vomiting and, in serious cases, seizures.

Many of the low-dose products sold online contain a form called lithium orotate. This is different from the forms prescribed by doctors and is not held to the same safety and quality standards as prescription medicines. There are no large human trials directly comparing it with lithium carbonate or citrate.

Some doctors prescribe low-dose lithium orotate for mood symptoms that do not meet the criteria for bipolar disorder, but this is not backed by strong clinical evidence. Online, it is often sold with sweeping claims about mood, behaviour and memory that go well beyond what the research currently shows.

It is also worth being clear about what Lady Gaga actually said. She described taking prescription lithium – a regulated medicine used under medical supervision – not an over-the-counter supplement. The two are not the same thing.

Research into low-dose lithium and brain health is ongoing, and the early findings are worth watching. But early findings are not the same as answers.

Until large-scale trials show clearly that low-dose lithium is both safe and effective, taking it without medical guidance carries real risks – risks that are easy to miss when the focus falls on the possible benefits. Lithium is a genuinely important medicine. That is precisely why it should not be treated as a casual addition to a supplement routine.

The Conversation

Dipa Kamdar does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Lady Gaga says she took lithium after a ‘psychotic break’ – here’s what the science says about this drug – https://theconversation.com/lady-gaga-says-she-took-lithium-after-a-psychotic-break-heres-what-the-science-says-about-this-drug-278169

Why do some people eat soil? From a prisoner’s lifeline to a modern tasting menu, the history of geophagy

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Zander Simpson, PhD Candidate in Anthropology, Durham University

Soils on display inside the Museum of Edible Earth’s temporary exhibition at Somerset House in London. David Parry/PA Media Assignments, CC BY-SA

Editor’s note: The UK’s Food Standards Authority and Health Security Agency both advise against eating clay, soil or earth. Links to their guidance are included in this article.

When I ask people if they have ever eaten soil before, they tend to give me a strange look. But geophagy – the deliberate ingestion of any kind of soil – is a practice that archaeological evidence from Kalambo Falls in Zambia suggests has been part of human history for at least 2 million years.

British archaeologist John Desmond Clark reported that Homo habilis, a species of human who lived between 2.2 and 1.6 million years ago, was digging into the earth to mine clays from below the topsoil. This led to the inference that the oldest evidence of geophagy by humans was at that prehistoric site on the border of Zambia and Tanzania.

More recently, anecdotal evidence suggests a prisoner condemned to death in 16th-century Hohenlohe (now part of Germany) was allowed a last request of consuming a small clay tablet after receiving his supposedly lethal dose of mercury. The tablet was reputedly a piece of terra sigillata – clay traditionally mined from the Greek island of Lemnos. To the amazement of the court, the convict survived the mercury poisoning and was merely banished instead.

Geophagy is still practised widely around the globe, including by some women experiencing food cravings during pregnancy. But it should not be confused with the eating disorder pica.

In my research on geophagy practices in the UK, clays appear to be the most popular types of soil consumed. But these are only a sliver of the many types of soil people are known to eat.

In Amsterdam’s Museum of Edible Earth, researcher and artist masharu has brought together more than 600 soils used in geophagy. These include melt-in-the-mouth pemba from Surinam and montmorillonite green clay from France, which is claimed to be an anti-ageing treatment.

The museum is now in the UK for the first time. Adult visitors to Somerset House in London are being invited to sample a “tasting menu” of its soils, and even contribute their own tasting notes.

Map of Museum of Edible Earth soil samples.
Map of the Museum of Edible Earth soil samples.
Graphic design by Luuk van Veen with guidance of Olga Ganzha and masharu, CC BY-SA

The symbolism of soil

For many people, eating soil carries deep symbolic meaning. Soil is a common theme in genesis stories that describe how a people originated, including Adam in the Bible’s Old Testament.

Among the Luo people in Kenya, women who practice geophagy during pregnancy prefer eating red clays due to the links between soil, fertility and blood. These clays are understood to replenish the blood lost during pregnancy to the unborn foetus, which is referred to as remo ma ichweyogo nyathi (the blood you form the child of).

In the 20th century, eating soil was sometimes used to determine guilt in Java. If a crime was committed with no witnesses and the cross-examination failed, suspects would ingest a small amount of soil from their ancestors’ graves and call upon them as witnesses to their innocence. If one of the suspects grew ill or died over the next few months, they would be found guilty.

Today, thinly sliced clay from Java is still eaten as a snack known as ampo.

Soil’s growing appeal

The benefits and risks of eating soil have been highlighted amid recent social media interest in geophagy, such as the trend for filming soil taste tests on TikTok.

A collaboration between researchers at the universities of Glasgow, Strathclyde and Crete suggests clays from Lemnos may have wider health benefits, such as preventing the progression of inflammatory diseases (although, so far, only shown in mice).

Bentonite, which is also used in cosmetic face masks, was mentioned as a favourite edible clay by some customers of a London health-food shop I spoke to.

One reason clays such as bentonite appear to be a popular choice is that they can host Streptomyces, a genus of bacteria that, alongside being a useful source of antibiotics, produce geosmin. This chemical emits the pleasant smell associated with dry earth after rainfall – and also contributes to a pleasantly “earthy” taste.

Video: NewsNation.

But any kind of soil should always be consumed with caution. In 2013, Public Health England identified calabash chalk as a particular risk for pregnant women. Its warning was triggered by widespread consumption of this chalk within some Asian and African communities in London, as a nutritional supplement or morning sickness antidote, and the potential threat posed by lead present in some of these soils.

The UK Food Standards Authority has also warned about the presence of lead and other toxic chemicals in commercially available clays.

Some soils may contain hidden dangers such as heavy metals pollutants, parasitic worms and cancer-causing moulds. Additionally, faecal contamination of soils may introduce bacteria such as E coli, which can cause food poisoning.

While these health risks do not apply to all soils, and some of these concerns can be addressed through the way clays are processed, it is advised that anyone interested in practising geophagy should seek careful guidance first.

The exhibition of edible soils by masharu, on show in London until April 26, seeks to challenge the stigma and negative perceptions around eating clay by focusing on the often-overlooked sensations of soil. From environmental science to health research, soil is no longer being treated like dirt.

The Conversation

Zander Simpson receives funding for his research from the Economic and Social Research Council in the form of a PhD Studentship.

ref. Why do some people eat soil? From a prisoner’s lifeline to a modern tasting menu, the history of geophagy – https://theconversation.com/why-do-some-people-eat-soil-from-a-prisoners-lifeline-to-a-modern-tasting-menu-the-history-of-geophagy-278691

Why emotional resilience should be at the heart of climate change education

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Jessica Newberry Le Vay, Senior Researcher in Climate Change and Health, University of Oxford

The mental health effects of climate change are receiving growing attention, including how children and young people are uniquely affected. Supporting young people to build and sustain good mental health and wellbeing, and to feel prepared for life and work in an uncertain world, has never been more urgent. However, action is still lagging behind need – including in education.

My colleagues and I at the Compass Project, coordinated by the Climate Cares Centre at the University of Oxford and Imperial College London, are exploring how combining climate change education with consideration of mental health and wellbeing can better equip young people for their futures.

We wanted to know how students and educators experience climate change education now, and what they want to see change. Through focus groups and a survey, we heard from over 200 students aged 16-29 and their educators in schools, further education and sixth form colleges and universities in England. They told us why and how emotional resilience – the social and emotional skills to build and sustain good mental health and wellbeing in the face of challenges – should be part of climate change education.

Status quo: disconnected and disempowered

For many young people, climate change education is disconnected from solutions, and from what they see as helpful to everyday life and enjoy learning about. Students report lacking agency, meaning they don’t feel they have the ability to make change. These are not only barriers to meaningful climate change education. Our study highlights this is also driving both distress and disengagement, and missing opportunities to protect and promote mental health and wellbeing.

Students described a wide range of emotions associated with climate change, including worry, fear, guilt, anger and powerlessness. We heard that education can exacerbate these feelings. One university student said:

[My education] increases my worry because despite being a biology course, and many of my modules being based around ecosystems, the environment, animal behaviour, climate change is not a central theme or something brought up regularly in my learning.

What surprised me was just how much students spoke of climate denial and disengagement, mental health stigma, and stigma around engaging with climate action. Students highlighted these as barriers to discussion and community building. One said:

There seems to be a passive feeling amongst my age cohort and, despite most accepting the truth of climate change, they feel removed and disempowered. This is obviously quite demoralising.

Educators spoke of feeling unsupported and lacking time and resources when it came to teaching about climate change and navigating diverse emotional responses. “We want to teach about climate change,” one said, “but there’s anxiety for the educator to say, what if I set some sort of chain reaction of concern amongst these children, how do I deal with that?”

Such experiences have been reflected through a film by the Climate Majority Project, highlighting the emotional reality of climate change education through the eyes of a teacher.

The Hardest Lesson, a film by the Climate Majority Project.

Change is possible, and already underway

Students and educators had clear, aligned, views on action to better prepare young people for a climate-changed future. This included strengthening connection with nature and curriculum reform to include psychologically informed climate change education in every subject.

Students wanted support to cope with their emotions, and opportunities to take part in meaningful and collective climate action. More time, funding, training and support for educators underpins these actions. A school student said:

It gets to a point where it’s like, this statistic, this statistic. These animals are dying. This country’s just had a flood. If you give [young people] concrete ways, more opportunities to do things that genuinely would help a lot of people, and it also does help the environment, but it takes away that powerlessness and frustration and fear.

Many initiatives are already putting these actions into practice, alongside a growing bank of resources on how to do so.

I was struck by examples students and educators gave of initiatives that did anecdotally support climate change education and build emotional resilience, but hadn’t been designed this way. Inter-school climate action competitions built community, agency and joy. General peer support systems for university assignments led to discussions about climate emotions.

Insufficient attention on the links between climate change education and mental health and wellbeing may mean wider, perhaps unintended, benefits of what schools, colleges and universities are already doing are missed. Particularly given scarce resources and overburdened educators, learning about and investing in how to enable these positive ripple effects – and consistently embed such practices across the education system – is a crucial opportunity.

The transformational societal changes that the climate crisis demands can only take place by considering the emotions, thoughts and beliefs that shape our actions, including support to minimise burnout. Our actions, in turn, shape our emotions and can influence our health and wellbeing. Recognising and resourcing these connections in education systems is critical to truly equip young people for life and work in a changing climate.

The Conversation

Jessica Newberry Le Vay leads the Compass Project, which is funded by the Robert H. N. Ho Family Foundation Global. She works for the Climate Cares Centre based at the University of Oxford and Imperial College London.

ref. Why emotional resilience should be at the heart of climate change education – https://theconversation.com/why-emotional-resilience-should-be-at-the-heart-of-climate-change-education-275610

Climate change is altering Saharan dust – and Europe is downwind

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Hossein Hashemi, Senior Lecturer, Division of Water Resources Engineering & Centre for Advanced Middle Eastern Studies, Lund University

ragusaliaga / shutterstock

In recent years, residents of Spain, France and the UK have looked up to see an eerie sight: deep orange sunrises and skies thick with a yellowish haze. These hazy skies often deposit “blood rain”, rust-colored precipitation that leaves a fine grit on cars and windows.

These events are caused by dust plumes from the Sahara desert that travel thousands of kilometres across the Mediterranean. As climate change alters the world’s largest desert, Europe is finding itself increasingly downwind of a shifting environmental crisis.

The Sahara accounts for more than half of the world’s total dust emissions. Under hot, dry and windy conditions, particles are lifted several kilometres into the atmosphere and transported across continents.

While most travels west toward the Americas, some moves north towards Europe, particularly between February and June. Recent plumes – such as the intense “Calima” that sometimes blankets Spain – have reached as far as the North Sea and Scandinavia.

Parthenon in organe dust cloud
Saharan dust blankets Athens, Greece, in April 2024.
Lesley Hellgeth / shutterstock

The relationship between a warming planet and dust is complex.

On one hand, rising temperatures dry out soils and accelerate desertification, making it far easier for wind to dislodge fine particles. Under extreme warming scenarios, the amount of Saharan dust lifted into the atmosphere could rise by 40% to 60% by the end of the century.

However, the “dustiness” of the future also depends on wind patterns. Certain Saharan sand and dust storms have actually become rarer and less intense over the past two decades. Partly, this is due to an increase in vegetation in the Sahel region at the southern border of the Sahara. But it’s also down to a weakening of surface winds in general, and changes in certain large-scale climate patterns.

Health risks and economic consequences

For Europe, the impact is not just aesthetic. Saharan dust can substantially degrade air quality, pushing levels of invisible particulate matter beyond health guidelines. These fine particles, known as PM10, can penetrate deep into the lungs, triggering asthma and cardiovascular issues. In Spain and Italy, modelling studies suggest Saharan dust may account for up to 44% of deaths linked to PM10 pollution.

Dust also carries other costs. When it settles on snow in the Alps it darkens the surface and makes it less able to reflect sunlight, accelerating melting. It can reduce the efficiency of solar panels and disrupt aviation and road traffic by lowering visibility.

snowy mountain valley, with orange dust
Saharan dust-stained snow in the Spanish Pyrenees.
Xavi Lapuente / shutterstock

What to do about dust

Responding to this growing cross-border problem means acting both at the source and in affected areas.

In the Sahara and its margins, preventing the disruption of intact soils is critical. Overgrazing, river damming and land abandonment can all increase dust emissions. To stabilise the ground, measures include restoring vegetation, maintaining river flows and protecting the fragile “biocrust” of bacteria, moss and other organisms that bind the top few millimetres of desert soils and form a natural shield against wind erosion.

In Europe, the focus is on being prepared. Early warning systems now provide predictions up to 15 days in advance, allowing health authorities to issue alerts for vulnerable people to stay indoors. Simple measures, from improved building ventilation to creating more urban green spaces, can also reduce exposure.

In decades to come, the Saharan “dust belt” will remain a visible indicator of our planet’s health. But technology and forecasting alone will not be enough to solve the problem.

Dust does not respect borders, so managing it will require stronger international cooperation – and binding agreements – on everything from managing river basins to stop lake beds from drying out, to public health responses across Europe. Whether orange skies remain a curiosity or become a regular feature of European life, governments throughout Europe and Africa must take this shared risk seriously.

The Conversation

Hossein Hashemi does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Climate change is altering Saharan dust – and Europe is downwind – https://theconversation.com/climate-change-is-altering-saharan-dust-and-europe-is-downwind-278605

What the historic snow drought means for water, wildfires and the future of the West

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Alejandro N. Flores, Professor of Geoscience, Boise State University

The snow drought was evident in Park City, Utah, on Feb. 9, 2026. This golf course is normally used for cross-country skiing in winter. Mario Tama/Getty Images

Across much of the Western United States, winter 2026 was the year the snow never came. Many ski resorts got by with snowmaking but shut down their winter operations early. Fire officials and water supply managers are worried about summer.

Where I live in Boise, Idaho, temperatures hit the low 80s Fahrenheit (high-20s Celsius) in mid-March. The same heat dome sent temperatures soaring to 105 F (40 C) in Phoenix.

Ordinarily, water managers and hydrologists like me who study the Western U.S. expect the mountain snowpacks to be at their fullest around April 1. Snowpacks are natural reservoirs of water that farms and communities depend on through the hot, dry summer. Their snow water equivalent, meaning the amount of liquid water in the snowpack, is seen as a bellwether for water supplies.

But the 2026 water year has been anything but ordinary. In fact, its snow drought has few historical analogs.

Data from the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Natural Resources Conservation Service shows that out of approximately 70 river basins across the Western U.S., only five are at or above the 1991-2020 median snow water equivalent for this time of year. Most of those are clustered around the Yellowstone region of western Wyoming and eastern Idaho.

A map of river basins shows very few with normal snow-water equivalent, primarily near Yellowstone National Park.
The majority of river basins in the Western U.S. were at less than 50% of their 1991-2020 median snow water equivalent on March 23, 2026.
Natural Resources Conservation Service National Water and Climate Center

By contrast, 11 basins have less than 25% of the 1991-2020 median, and more than half are below 50%. The headwaters of critically important rivers, including the Colorado, the Columbia and the Missouri, are peppered with basins that are far below historical averages.

Other important measures of snow water storage and ecosystem health, including which areas have snow cover in the Western U.S and how long it’s been there, also point toward snow reserves that are far below recent years.

How did we get here?

Just because the Western U.S. is in a snow drought doesn’t mean it isn’t getting precipitation. Temperatures have been high enough since the start of the water year in October that a lot of what normally would have fallen as snow fell as rain instead.

The West experienced a very warm December at all but the highest elevations, but strong storms also drenched large parts of the region. Washington state was swamped with rain that triggered flooding and melted the existing snowpack.

A chart shows very low snow cover all winter compared to the arc of most years.
The total area of the Western U.S. with snow cover has been exceptionally low compared to the years 2001 to 2025.
National Snow and Ice Data Center

Temperatures in January were less extreme but still warmer than historical averages. However, precipitation in January was far below the 1991-2020 average throughout much of the region. February brought precipitation conditions closer to historical averages, but temperatures were much warmer than normal.

The Western U.S., therefore, got a triple whammy: Two of the three critical snow-accumulation months were too warm, and the third was too dry.

Water worries ahead

So what does this mean for water supplies and river flows?

A recent assessment of drought conditions from NOAA’s National Integrated Drought Information System suggests 2026 will be a tight year for water supplies.

Water managers in Wyoming and Washington are already signaling that some water rights holders – cities, irrigation districts, individual farms and industries can take limited amounts of water from rivers, canals and aquifers – can expect to receive less than their full allotment of water in 2026. It’s not unreasonable to expect other states to soon follow suit.

Throughout the Western U.S., water rights are administered according to the Doctrine of Prior Appropriation – those who hold the oldest legitimate claims to water from a river, reservoir or aquifer are entitled to receive their allotments first.

Junior water rights holders who may be at risk of receiving less than their full allotment of water likely have difficult decisions ahead related to the planting and management of their crops. The challenges are compounded by the likelihood of increases in fertilizer and transportation costs associated with the ongoing war in Iran.

In the Colorado River Basin, the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation’s most probable forecast indicates water levels in Lake Powell falling below the minimum power pool elevation in December 2026. That’s bad news for power supplies, because below that level, the Glen Canyon Dam can’t produce hydroelectric power. The dam contributes power for millions of customers across seven states.

What the snow drought means for fire season

Another big concern is whether the historic snow drought is setting up the West for a bad fire season. That’s still an open question.

Rain has meant moisture is available now for plants to grow, but the lack of snowpack that normally keeps meltwater flowing through summer raises concerns about whether those plants will dry out, leaving them ready to burn.

Fire is a historically important feature of the forest and rangeland ecosystems of the West, and these ecosystems are to some degree adapted to large swings in conditions from year to year and season to season.

Because precipitation across much of the West is close to historical averages, there is snow in some of the highest-elevation mountains. And at lower elevations, some of the precipitation that fell as rain likely remains in the soils.

A skier next to open ground with a mountain in the background.
Snowmaking kept slopes skiable amid high temperatures in March 2026 in Breckenridge, Colo., but it wasn’t hard to find dry, exposed land nearby.
Michael Ciaglo/Getty Images

Weather conditions in the late spring and summer – how much rain falls and how hot and dry conditions become – will play critical roles in determining the shape forests and rangelands will be in for fire season.

What this winter suggests about the future

The record-low snowpack may be a harbinger of what a warmer future will look like in the region. Many researchers have investigated how climate change will influence snowpacks and water supply throughout the Western U.S., but questions and critical challenges remain.

Among them: In years like this, with near-normal precipitation but low snowpack, are there difficult-to-observe stores of water in the deeper subsurface that can help buffer against loss of snow for periods of time? That’s one of several questions my colleagues and I have been working on.

This year’s snow drought presents a timely, albeit high-stakes, stress test for the West. Everyone will be watching.

The Conversation

Alejandro N. Flores receives funding from the National Science Foundation, the US Bureau of Reclamation, and the USDA Agricultural Research Service.

ref. What the historic snow drought means for water, wildfires and the future of the West – https://theconversation.com/what-the-historic-snow-drought-means-for-water-wildfires-and-the-future-of-the-west-279163

Importing queen bees won’t solve Canada’s beekeeping problems

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Brendan Daisley, Banting Postdoctoral Fellow, Department of Molecular and Cellular Biology, University of Guelph

Every spring, Canadian beekeepers await the arrival of queen bees crucial to their industry. The queens that populate Canadian bee colonies through the season largely do not come from Canada at all.

Canada imports approximately 260,000 to 300,000 queen bees annually from warmer regions like Hawaii, California, Chile and New Zealand because it cannot meet domestic demand.

This system works for now, but it’s much more fragile than most Canadians might realize. Honey bees pollinate a huge share of what we eat (from blueberries and apples to canola and clover), sustaining billions of dollars in crop production in Canada each year. Yet the resilience of this system hinges on the health of a single individual, the queen.

Canadian honey bee colonies face multiple pressures. New research we conducted with colleagues found that while antibiotic use in Canadian beekeeping fell significantly following regulatory changes in 2018, the number of bees that died over winter each year rose in parallel.

That suggests that removing antibiotics without alternative ways of bolstering resilience may be quietly making colonies more vulnerable.

Our study also identified nitrogen dioxide, a common air pollutant from diesel exhaust, as a strong predictor of bee mortality, because it masks flower scents and makes foraging harder.

Why import queens?

Every honey bee colony is led by one queen: the sole reproducer, the source of the colony’s genetic makeup and a key regulator of the whole colony’s survival, immunity and social behaviour.

Her strength determines the colony’s longevity, population size, brood pattern and ultimately, its productivity. When queens fail, colonies fail. In surveys across Canada, poor queen health is consistently cited as a leading cause of colony losses, especially during winter.




Read more:
Worker honey bees can sense infections in their queen, leading to revolt


Queens can only be raised within a short window, April to September, with many not available until late May. Canada cannot currently produce enough high-quality queens to meet its beekeeping industry’s needs.

This leaves domestic producers unable to meet demand in spring. Importing queens fills the demand within those crucial early spring months, but it also introduces new problems: the queens typically come from warm, stable climates and are often ill-suited to Canadian winters.

Imported queens face challenges

Research shows that domestically raised queens are 25 per cent more likely to survive winter than imported ones. Some imported stock also shows higher rates of brood diseases like chalkbrood.

Over years of repeated importation, this can gradually dilute locally adapted genetics, making Canada’s national bee population progressively less equipped to handle the environment it lives in.

There is also a policy risk that rarely makes headlines. Canada permits queen imports from only a small number of approved countries.

A trade dispute, new disease outbreak or biosecurity concerns could cut off that supply almost overnight, leaving beekeepers queenless, with immediate consequences for the crops depending on those colonies.

Importance of the queen’s microbiome

Researchers have long focused on genetics, nutrition, diseases and pesticides when studying worker and queen bee health. But mounting evidence suggests another factor that has been overlooked: the microbiome, a community of beneficial microbes living inside the bees themselves.

Imagine it like the gut bacteria that influence human immunity and digestion. Over the last two decades, medicine has transformed the way human gut microbiomes can affect disease resistance and mental well-being.

Bee researchers are beginning to ask the same questions and finding that the balance of microbial communities does indeed affect bee health, longevity and agrochemical resiliency.




Read more:
Beyond honey: 4 essential reads about bees


Worker bee microbiomes often get disproportionate research focus compared to the queen microbiome, despite her immense role in overall colony success and reproduction.

However, early evidence suggests that queens have distinct microbiomes that can influence and are influenced in turn by lifespan, reproduction levels and immunity — all of which act as signals that regulate the colony. If queens are the foundational “gene engines” of colonies, their microbiomes may be the unrecognized microbial infrastructure that supports them.

Critically, those microbial communities can be shaped by environment and rearing practices, temperature and time of year and region.

An imported queen may arrive not only with genetics attuned to a warmer climate, but with a microbiome equally mismatched to Canadian forage plants, pathogens and seasonal stress. The mismatch may be more complex and more consequential than genetics alone suggests.

The Canadian Bee Gut Project

Our research group at the University of Guelph launched the Canadian Bee Gut Project — a nationwide effort to map the microbiomes of honey bee colonies from coast to coast, working with commercial beekeepers, breeders and provincial teams.

We are now expanding that work to focus specifically on queens, comparing the microbiomes of domestic and imported stock to identify which microbial communities are associated with successful overwintering in Canada.

The goal is to develop practical tools such as microbiome-informed rearing practices, targeted interventions to restore beneficial microbes and support domestic breeding programs that can produce cold-adapted queens resilient to disease.

Canada’s reliance on imported queens is understandable, but it isn’t sustainable in the long term.

Climate instability, border policy shifts, new disease threats and rising colony mortality rates all put pressure on our beekeeping and food production systems.

Building a more resilient food system means reducing that dependence. That requires better breeding and a deeper understanding of the biology that makes queens thrive or fail in Canadian conditions.

The answer to stronger, more self-reliant beekeeping in this country may be inside the bees themselves.

The Conversation

Brendan Daisley received research funding from Food from Thought at the University of Guelph, the Ontario Ministry of Agriculture and Food, the Canada First Research Excellence Fund, and a Natural Sciences and Engineering Council of Canada Banting Postdoctoral Fellowship.

Elizabeth Mallory does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Importing queen bees won’t solve Canada’s beekeeping problems – https://theconversation.com/importing-queen-bees-wont-solve-canadas-beekeeping-problems-277739

La science est-elle malade de ses revues ? Patrick Couvreur et Justine Fabre sont dans la Grande Conversation

Source: The Conversation – in French – By Laurent Bainier, Directeur de la rédaction The Conversation France, The Conversation

Comment fonctionne vraiment l’édition scientifique ? Modèles économiques, poids des grands éditeurs, fraudes, évaluation des articles, open access, voie diamant : cette Grande Conversation, l’émission de The Conversation et CanalChat en partenariat avec l’Académie des sciences, propose de lever le voile sur un univers méconnu du grand public, mais décisif pour l’avenir de la recherche.

Les chercheurs produisent les articles, évaluent souvent bénévolement ceux de leurs pairs et contribuent à la mise en forme des publications. Pourtant, la diffusion de ces travaux est contrôlée par des éditeurs commerciaux. Avec la montée de l’open access, un nouveau modèle s’est imposé : les APC, les frais de publication que les chercheurs ou leurs institutions doivent payer pour rendre leurs articles accessibles.

Résultat : le système combine désormais deux logiques payantes. Les institutions continuent de payer des abonnements, tout en finançant de plus en plus les APC. En France, ces frais de pourraient dépasser 50 millions d’ici 2030. À cela s’ajoutent près de 90 millions d’euros d’abonnements aux revues. Économiquement insoutenable…

Des solutions existent, comme le modèle de publication scientifique en libre de l’Académie des Sciences et du CNRS, gratuit pour les auteurs comme pour les lecteurs. Mais elles tardent à se généraliser. Pourquoi? Quelles sont les logiques qui poussent les chercheurs à continuer de jouer le jeu des APC? Comment peut-on promouvoir l’open access? Nos deux invités, le chercheur Patrick Couvreur et la directrice du Patrimoine et des Ressources scientifiques de l’Académie des Sciences Justine Fabre, nous aident à y voir plus clair dans ce nouvel épisode de La Grande Conversation.

The Conversation

ref. La science est-elle malade de ses revues ? Patrick Couvreur et Justine Fabre sont dans la Grande Conversation – https://theconversation.com/la-science-est-elle-malade-de-ses-revues-patrick-couvreur-et-justine-fabre-sont-dans-la-grande-conversation-279247

Female politicians can be punished at the polls for not smiling – but men aren’t

Source: The Conversation – France – By Iona Astier, PhD Candidate in Economics, Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne

When election time comes around, campaign posters feature candidates with a determined look in their eye, their local promises, well thought-out slogans in full view, and a smile – which particularly among women politicians has become something of a quiet, political prerequisite.

In 2016, during the Democrat National convention Hillary Clinton was commented more on supposedly not smiling or lacking warmth than on her electoral manifesto. Some years later Élisabeth Borne, who was then Prime Minister of France, was described several times as being “cold” and “stiff.” Recounting her twenty months spent at Matignon in a book (2024), she explains how her attitude was more harshly judged than if she had been a man. She appears on the cover of her book with a frank smile. In both cases, it was her appearance and allure that was being held against her rather than her ideas.

Women often get criticised for not smiling. But does this expectation have an impact electorally speaking? In other words, does choosing not to smile cost women more votes than it does men?

A ‘smile monitor’ for candidates?

A recent study carried out on 9,000 electoral manifestos from local elections in France in 2022 and 2024 subjected the phenomenon to a statistical reality test Lippmann, 2026. The promises that were examined are a precious source of analysis. In France, each elector whether male or female receives a copy before the ballot, presenting their manifesto pledges with a photo of the candidate alongside prominent politicians from the political parties they are affiliated with.

The emotions and smiles that could be detected or that were missing from the photos were measured with the help of artificial intelligence. Almost 80% of women were perceived to be “smiling” in the photo compared with 60% of men, representing a difference of 19% percentage points. Women appear to be smiling far less than their male counterparts.

What does a smile cost candidates?

The statistical analysis also shows that this difference is not electorally neutral. Using the same data from the 2022 and 2024 legislative elections, we measured the impact of smiling on the election results by taking into account the candidate’s age, political party, profession, department, and the type of constituency, as well as the content of their manifestos.

At comparable characteristics, smiling men and smiling women score about two points more in the polls compared to non-smiling men. But the asymetry lies with the candidates who don’t smile; a female candidate that doesn’t smile scores about two points less than a non-smiling male politician. For men, smiling adds value. For women, it’s more of a condition to avoid being penalised.

Chart representing a rough estimate of the effect of a smile and gender on the segment of the vote in the 1st round (in French)
A rough estimate of the effect of a smile and gender on the segment of the vote in the 1st round DR.
Fourni par l’auteur

To confirm these results, we set up an online experiment with 1000 people – a representative sample of the French population. We provided participants with a pair of photos of “mock,” AI generated female and male candidates. For each imaginary candidate, two versions of the same photo were created, one smiling and the other with a neutral expression, then they were presented to the participants in order to measure whether a smile can affect voting intentions.

We asked each participant the following question: “If you had to choose between two candidates what is the probability that you would vote for candidate A rather than candidate B.”

The preliminary results indicate that a neutral expression reduces voting intentions for all candidates, but that it is more strongly affects the women candidates. Not smiling reduces their chances of being selected by approximately three percentage points more than men. These results that tally with the analysis based on the electoral programmes, are currently the subject of a scientific paper that is being edited.

Examples of deepfakes that were used in the experiment to study the impact of smiling on voting intentions. DR.
Fourni par l’auteur

A ‘double-edged sword’ for women in politics

Why is the stigma attached to smiling so strongly directed at women? Psychology establishes that gender stereotypes make women into people who are naturally warm, attentive and less likely to be aggressive whereas men are associated with competitiveness, self-assuredness and emotional control. But when women obtain positions of power these expectations meet are met with tension.

Female candidates face “double trouble:” as women, they are situated on the register of warmth and empathy while as politicians, they must incarnate authority, firmness, which are qualities considered to be masculine. If they display too much heat, they risk being deemed insufficiently credible or less competent.

Conversely, if they adopt the codes of seriousness and distance, which are valued in politics, they expose themselves to criticism of coldness, of “stiffness” or of a lack of empathy, as experienced by Hillary Clinton or Élisabeth Borne. This double-edged sword raises a strategic question: should you smile to get elected, even if it means having to recompose your image once in office? While our data does not allow us to answer this question, it does point towards a paradox: the cogs behind electoral victory are not necessarily the same cogs that are in motion during the exercise of power.

For men, this conflict is much less marked. The stereotypes associated with them immediately correspond to those related to the exercise of power. This concordance offers them greater emotional freedom. Showing warmth is not considered a transgression, it is simply a mark of accessibility, which does not take anything away from their credibility.

Conversely, if a woman meets the expectations of warmth and empathy traditionally associated with femininity, she risks being perceived as less competent. Smiling then becomes a tool for adjustment that reduces the tension between these contradictory requirements, a way of “countering” access to a power function still perceived as a transgression of the female role. This constraint forces women to invest more in controlling their image.

An emotional load is thus added to the political burden, a form of “invisible tax” that would represent an expenditure of energy and resources that their male counterparts do not have to bear. Although this emotional cost is theoretically well documented, investigations conducted directly with women politicians on this experience are still rare.

Dealing with expectations

Faced with these constraints, women politicians can adopt different strategies. The first is conformity: displaying warmth and a smile to meet gendered expectations, at the cost of an additional effort. The second is the challenge by refusing these standards and assuming neutrality or distance. But this path is electorally risky. As our data shows, unlike her male counterparts, a candidate who does not smile exposes herself to a penalty at the ballot box.

A third strategy consists in instrumentalising these constraints. In his study, French political scientist Frédérique Matonti demonstrated that stereotypical media coverage of female politicians can, in some contexts, be turned to their advantage. In the case of Marine Le Pen, this treatment contributed to humanise her in contrast to her politically notorious father, thus serving her strategy of de-demonising France’s far right party.

A smile may seem trivial. But when we observe who is asking for it, and at what moment it is valued, then it reveals the norms that are still framing women’s access to positions of power. Understanding these mechanisms invites us to reflect and ask ourselves questions about what we expect, often unconsciously, from those who govern us.


A weekly e-mail in English featuring expertise from scholars and researchers. It provides an introduction to the diversity of research coming out of the continent and considers some of the key issues facing European countries. Get the newsletter!


The Conversation

Les auteurs ne travaillent pas, ne conseillent pas, ne possèdent pas de parts, ne reçoivent pas de fonds d’une organisation qui pourrait tirer profit de cet article, et n’ont déclaré aucune autre affiliation que leur organisme de recherche.

ref. Female politicians can be punished at the polls for not smiling – but men aren’t – https://theconversation.com/female-politicians-can-be-punished-at-the-polls-for-not-smiling-but-men-arent-279011

High vet bills have eroded pet-owners’ trust – but vets aren’t getting rich from their fees

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Rachel Williams, Reader in Human Resource Management, Cardiff University

Korawat photo shoot/Shutterstock

What would you pay to ease the pain of a beloved pet? For pet owners, vet bills are likely to be one expense that’s tightly bound up with emotion. But it seems the market is not working as well as it should. A report into the UK’s veterinary sector has identified concerns about price transparency and the growing dominance of large corporate groups that own local vet practices.

In the lead-up to the report by regulator the Competition and Markets Authority (CMA), much of the media coverage focused on rising veterinary fees. But behind practice doors, there is a subtler but equally important issue at play – declining trust between pet owners and professionals.

Vets have long been portrayed as trusted figures, from the James Herriot novels to Mrs Hamster in the Peppa Pig cartoons. But, increasingly, that trust is being questioned and vets report that clients are suspicious of the advice they offer. One vet I spoke to this week was frustrated that a client had refused all treatment options because they believed the recommendations were motivated by financial targets and not their pet’s welfare.

In my research with early-career vets, this shift in the public’s perception is clear. Some vets describe hostility from clients, while others avoid telling people they are a vet to escape conversations about fees. One vet in my study even left the profession due to the stress of these interactions.

High fees for clients do not equate to high salaries for vets. Vets I interviewed with around four years’ experience reported salaries ranging from £37,000 to £48,000. This is broadly comparable to other graduate professions such as teaching.

However, unlike teachers, some vets are offered only statutory sick pay, and have no enhanced holiday or pension benefits. Despite this, they are often seen as personally profiting from rising fees, when in reality they have limited control over pricing decisions.

Trust matters not only for the wellbeing of vets, but also for animal welfare. When trust breaks down, clients may delay or decline treatment. Vets told me they struggled to balance the best outcome for the pet with the owner’s willingness or ability to pay.

This can lead to distressing outcomes, including the euthanasia of animals with treatable conditions. Some owners are also taking their pets to Europe for surgery, where lower wages and overheads, as well as different regulatory frameworks, can significantly reduce the cost of treatment.

What will the new rules mean for pet owners?

The CMA’s findings suggest that part of this distrust may stem from how the veterinary market operates. It proposes a series of reforms, to come in later this year, to give pet owners more control and clearer information about pricing and practice ownership.

In a central change, price transparency will be mandatory. Practices will be required to publish prices for common treatments and provide written estimates before expensive procedures take place. In addition, price comparison tools will be introduced to allow people to shop around. Together, these measures aim to inform and empower pet owners.

The CMA is also targeting the way medicines are sold. Many pet owners don’t know that they can request a prescription and purchase medications online, often at lower cost. Under the new proposals, vets will be required to make this option clear, and there will be a £21 cap on prescription fees.

However, many online retailers of animal medication are owned by the corporate practices and so some believe this will merely transfer income from independent practices.

springer spaniel lying on a tiled floor
When trust between vet and client breaks down, it can delay vital treatment.
Cavan-Images/Shutterstock

Another key recommendation is greater transparency around practice ownership. Around 60% of practices are owned by a small number of corporate groups – up from 10% just over a decade ago. These practices are funded through venture capitalists and large corporations, although two also offer joint ownership models with vets.

Yet this information is often hidden, as practices work under their own names. In future, practices will need to state clearly who their parent company is on all signage and communications. They must also identify if this company also owns related businesses such as pet crematoria, online pharmacies and referral hospitals.

In theory, these changes should help rebuild trust. When clients have the ability to compare options, they may be less likely to assume that their vet’s recommendations are driven by profit.




Read more:
Are independent vets really better? The real issue isn’t necessarily who owns them


But transparency alone may not fully address the loss of trust in the profession. There is a risk that more focus on pricing could reinforce the perception of veterinary care as a commercial transaction rather than a professional service grounded in animal welfare.

In my interviews, vets frequently told me that they did not join the profession for the money. And yet the public perception is that high veterinary charges lead to high salaries.

The CMA also highlighted the need for broader regulatory reform, including potential changes to the Veterinary Surgeons Act, which regulates vets’ training, conduct and disciplinary processes. Updating this to regulate whole practices rather than just individual vets will reflect the dominance of large corporate providers and ensure minimum standards of care.

The veterinary profession is navigating a complex set of pressures, including the rising cost of living, increasing overheads in the UK and difficulty in retaining experienced vets. The CMA’s recommendations are an important step towards improving transparency and empowering pet owners, but rebuilding trust will take more than clearer pricing. It will depend on people understanding and anticipating the cost of pet ownership and valuing the expertise and care at the heart of veterinary relationships.

The Conversation

Rachel Williams does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. High vet bills have eroded pet-owners’ trust – but vets aren’t getting rich from their fees – https://theconversation.com/high-vet-bills-have-eroded-pet-owners-trust-but-vets-arent-getting-rich-from-their-fees-279170