Author: MIL-OSI Publisher

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Nye Davies, Lecturer in Politics, Cardiff University

May 7 will go down as the worst election in the history of Welsh Labour. More than a century of electoral dominance ended with the party sitting in opposition in the Senedd (Welsh parliament) for the first time.

Given Welsh Labour’s once-hegemonic position, the scale of the defeat is astonishing. This was not simply a loss, but a collapse. The party now holds just nine seats in the Senedd, with few new figures emerging to shape its future direction.

The unavoidable question is where Welsh Labour goes from here, and whether it can recover.

The answer depends not simply on new policies or a change of leader, but on whether the party is capable of a genuine reckoning with both its ideological direction and the consequences of nearly three decades in government. That process will be difficult while Welsh Labour remains divided between its Westminster wing in London and its devolved leadership in Cardiff Bay.

Adaptation and exhaustion

No party in the democratic world has enjoyed such sustained dominance as Labour in Wales. As the political scientist T.J. Pempel has argued, dominant parties survive by remaining flexible and evolving into broad “catch-all” movements capable of appealing to diverse groups of voters.

For years, Welsh Labour did just that. The party normalised a form of progressive Welsh identity politics that stopped short of supporting independence, while reshaping debates around devolution, national identity and governance. In doing so, it assembled a broad coalition of centre-left and Welsh-identifying voters.

Yet the political terrain Welsh Labour helped create has also exposed its vulnerabilities. Having pushed this soft nationalist positioning as far as it could, tensions with the UK Labour party has weakened Welsh Labour’s ability to sustain a convincing message about “standing up for Wales”.

And having made those ideas politically mainstream, the party now struggles to present itself as their most credible champion. Plaid Cymru has increasingly occupied the political space Welsh Labour once helped define.

At the same time, the wider UK Labour party under prime minister Keir Starmer has struggled to respond effectively to the rise of Reform UK. Its rightward shift on issues such as immigration, combined with a broader lack of ideological clarity, has alienated some progressive voters and encouraged others to look elsewhere on the left.

This has left Welsh Labour politically squeezed. Its rhetoric about “standing up for Wales” increasingly rings hollow, while Plaid Cymru advances a left-leaning platform explicitly framed around Welsh interests and greater autonomy from Westminster. For many voters, the question has become: what is the point of Welsh Labour?

Learning to lose

Defeat, however, need not be fatal.

Dominant parties elsewhere, such as the Liberal Democratic Party in Japan, have recovered by learning to lose and realigning with new political realities. But such renewal requires leadership, ideas and organisational coherence. Welsh Labour currently lacks all three.

Dominance has hollowed out and inhibited the party’s intellectual capacity. Former first minister Mark Drakeford arguably shaped Welsh Labour’s political identity throughout much of the devolution era. But his retirement has left a vacuum, with no obvious successor providing ideological direction.

The party can also no longer rely on claims of administrative competence and delivery after voters rejected that argument at the ballot box. Incumbency became a burden.

Read more:
The Welsh Conservatives survived the Senedd election – now they must decide what they stand for

These weaknesses are compounded by the lack of fresh voices in the Senedd group. With Ken Skates installed as interim leader, the party currently offers continuity at precisely the moment reinvention is needed. It illustrates how decades of dominance narrowed, rather than renewed, the pool of credible alternatives.

More damaging is the intensifying internal conflict within Welsh Labour. In the aftermath of defeat, long-running tensions between Labour politicians in Cardiff Bay and Westminster have become increasingly public.

Former Welsh government minister Mick Antoniw described the defeat as having been “manufactured in Downing Street”. Meanwhile the UK government’s secretary of state for Wales Jo Stevens has laid the blame at the door of the Welsh government.

While the Welsh government must accept responsibility for the failures of 27 years of government, Stevens’ post-mortem fails to mention Keir Starmer once. It is an incredible oversight considering the scale of his unpopularity.

The UK government’s at-times-hostile attitude to further devolution – alongside disputes over rail funding linked to the HS2 project – have further eroded the perception that Labour stands up for Wales.

Far from offering a self-reflective post-mortem, Stevens’ intervention risks deepening, rather than resolving, Welsh Labour’s internal tensions.

An existential moment

This is Welsh Labour’s core dilemma. If it is to recover, it must undergo a period of serious reckoning with its record, its ideological direction and the consequences of dominance. But without resolving the tension between its Westminster and Welsh wings, that process appears unlikely.

Welsh and UK politics have changed dramatically. Nationalist parties now dominate the three devolved legislatures, and the Labour party is in crisis. This reflects a wider shift in which Labour increasingly governs as an English party, with Welsh voices peripheral. For a party that has shaped Welsh politics for more than a century, this moment is existential.

Unless Welsh Labour confronts this reality and reconciles its divisions, learning to lose will be difficult. Defeat will not be a prelude to renewal, but the start of a more terminal decline.

Nye Davies 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. After a complete collapse, where does Welsh Labour go from here? – https://theconversation.com/after-a-complete-collapse-where-does-welsh-labour-go-from-here-282615

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Edward White, PhD Candidate in Psychology, Kingston University

A former artist turned art forger, Lori Butler (Michaela Coel) poses a deceptively simple question at the heart of Steven Soderbergh’s new film, The Christophers: does it really matter who paints an artwork?

She is commissioned by the adult children of renowned painter Julian Sklar (Ian McKellen) – Barnaby (James Corden) and Sallie (Jessica Gunning) – to “complete” the last of his unfinished works, The Christophers.

Once complete, their real intention is to sell the series of paintings for a fortune once their father dies. Lori, who once endured a scathing critique from Julian that stalled her own career, reluctantly agrees to take on the job.

The film is, on the surface, a pleasingly crafted piece of art-world intrigue. But it raises questions about pleasure, authenticity, creative ownership and race that, ultimately, it seems unwilling to interrogate closely.

Read more:
The Mastermind: this art theft heist offers a compassionate character study

The premise centres on a real psychological phenomenon called essentialism – the deeply human habit of treating objects as though they possess a hidden inner nature that no copy can replicate. Psychologist Paul Bloom explores this in his book How Pleasure Works (2010). He argues that what we enjoy about art is inseparable from our beliefs about its origin.

In a series of experiments in 2012, psychologists demonstrated that people judge original artworks as more valuable and pleasurable than perceptually identical duplicates. This was not because they looked different, but because the original carried the trace of the artist’s creative act.

Even children show this intuition. Research from 2007 showed that when offered a spoon supposedly owned by Queen Elizabeth II versus a perfect copy, children preferred the original almost universally.

Further experimental work has since confirmed that simply labelling a work a copy, with no perceptual difference, depresses viewers’ ratings of its beauty and emotional resonance. This suggests that we are not responding to art – we are responding to the story we tell about it.

The film understands this. It suggests the revelation that Julian’s series portrays a long-lost male lover will transform his paintings into works that are not just appreciated but revered by the art market. Were Lori’s forgeries ever exposed, this would not only jeopardise their commercial value, but also dismantle the essence of the artist’s intent and feeling behind each brushstroke.

The artist’s gaze

This idea of originality is tightly tied up with assumptions about race, gender and who gets to be seen as a “real” artist.

Instead of treating originality as something universal and open to everyone, the film filters it through a very specific lens shaped by white, male authority. Rather than challenging this dynamic, it ultimately reinforces Julian as the figure who decides what counts as true artistic expression.

This dynamic echoes film theorist Laura Mulvey’s analysis of classic cinema, in which the male gaze structures all meaning and value. Men are deemed active creators and women mere objects whose value is defined by men.

In one scene, Julian dismisses Lori’s polyamorous relationships, describing them as mere infidelity. He, however, is never made to reflect on his own situation. As a bisexual man, his sexual freedom is framed as expressive and romantic – the very source of his artistic legacy. As a queer black woman, Lori is afforded no equivalent interpretation.

In her book Creating Their Own Image, art historian Lisa Farrington argues that creative contributions from black women artists are often overlooked or constrained by racial and patriarchal expectations. Their originality is rarely recognised on its own terms, filtered instead through the tastes and authority of others.

As a forger, Lori’s skill operates invisibly throughout the film. She is framed technically as indispensable, but narratively as subordinate to Julian and his children. Her authority as an artist is dependent on someone else’s approval.

Lori’s path has been directly influenced by Julian’s brutal critique of her artistic talent, which extinguished her own originality and confidence, driving her to become a forger. Instead of challenging his views or improving her craft, she simply accepts it, further removing her from any independent agency. The film does not attempt to present this as an indictment against the art world that Julian represents.

For example, in one scene Julian sells his art in a yard sale as a protest against the fact that agents take 40% of the profits of his work while making no creative contribution. In this instance, Julian voice is repeatedly allowed to be heard. Lori is granted no such opportunity.

So what is Soderbergh trying to say? He has faced criticism before for uneven editing and ambivalent portrayals of ethnic groups. Despite being “unusually candid about racism in Hollywood”, according to film theorist Sarah Sinwell, there is a recurring pattern in Soderbergh’s films in which black characters are used primarily to drive and validate white male agency.

The Christophers updates that dynamic without dismantling it. Lori is sympathetic and brilliantly skilled – but her function in the narrative remains pragmatic. Unfortunately, the film does not extend to her the rich interior life it generously grants Julian.

Given the restrained, emotionally muted role Coel is asked to play, Soderbergh seems more interested in exploring ideas of originality and pleasure than questioning: what is art? Why are some creators overlooked? And most importantly, who does the art belong to: the creator or the aesthete?

This article features references to books that have been included for editorial reasons, and may contain links to bookshop.org; if you click on one of the links and go on to buy something, The Conversation UK may earn a commission.

Edward White 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. The Christophers explores the world of art fakes, but leaves its hardest questions unresolved – https://theconversation.com/the-christophers-explores-the-world-of-art-fakes-but-leaves-its-hardest-questions-unresolved-282176

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Ian Williams, Professor of Applied Environmental Science, University of Southampton

The government has recently introduced simpler rules on recycling in England, planning to end the confusion of different types of waste being collected in different postcodes. Scotland and Northern Ireland already operate (or are updating) their own devolved recycling laws that are equivalent to England’s simpler recycling system.

This should also mean the widespread introduction of weekly food waste collections across England and more separation of waste overall.

But at the same time, there’s still some public concern about the main “black bin” rubbish collection shifting away from weekly to more infrequent pickups.

For instance in Northampton, Thanet and South Gloucestershire, residents have recently been protesting over the frequency of their waste collections as well as over confusing changes, bins not being delivered and waste collections not happening on time.

Meanwhile, in Australia, a recent switch by a local council from weekly to fortnightly waste collection attracted criticism from some local residents.

Does the shift work?

Many people across the UK now get their dustbins emptied every two weeks. In some cases the recycling bin is also emptied every two weeks. This is not a cost-cutting gimmick, there’s plenty of evidence that our black bins do not need to be collected every week, and that cutting pickups can result in reduced waste.

This shift to fortnightly collections began through pilot schemes more than 20 years ago. Councils in the UK tested alternate weekly collections in the 2000s. Early research showed people recycle more when services are simple and reliable. Well-designed containers, easy kerbside access and predictable routines drive participation.

Social, cultural and structural factors also shape household recycling behaviour. For instance, if a neighbour recycles regularly this can influence a householder to do the same. Households recycle more and divert more waste from landfill when systems include food caddies.

Targeted service design, including tailoring bin types and sizes, collection schedules, instructions, as well as support where recycling is more difficult (such as in flats), drives higher recycling.

Fortnightly bin collections have reduced amounts of waste when paired with weekly food-waste collection and better recycling. It also lowered greenhouse-gas emissions. Fortnightly “black bin” pickups steer waste prevention and recycling, while weekly food-waste captures organics, cutting landfill methane.

Reducing waste

Over the years councils have tried out changes in rubbish pickups. They added weekly food-waste bins. They expanded recycling. They ran targeted campaigns for flats and vulnerable households. Independent evaluations of pilot schemes showed consistent results: recycling rose, residual waste fell, and costs dropped.

Wales is now second in the world for recycling (behind Austria), with levels around 68%, a global benchmark achieved through consistent collection policy and investment in household services. Scotland comes in at 15th, and England is in 11th position.

Local councils can now point to authoritative research to help make their arguments for change. They can also show savings and emissions reductions. Across the whole UK, I estimate that 289-294 councils (out of 360), including at least 27 (out of 32) councils in Scotland, now collect residual waste fortnightly and recycling on alternating weeks. This approach is now used by growing numbers of authorities.

Cutting costs

By the mid-2020s, more than 80% of English councils had moved to fortnightly or longer residual cycles, with only a minority retaining weekly refuse rounds. These success stories are widely cited in policy reviews. What worked in the UK can be summarised in four ways.

1. Keep food waste weekly. Food is the main source of odour and contamination. Weekly food waste collection removes the biggest barrier to less frequent residual pickup.

2. Expand recycling streams. Offer clear, separate containers for paper, card, glass, plastics and metals. Make recycling easier than throwing things away.

3. Support flats and vulnerable households. Doorstep services must be adapted. Communal bins need management. Extra help must be available for those who cannot manage new routines.

4. Test and communicate. Phase in trials, tell people how much is being recycled and keep in touch with the public. These will build trust. People accept change when they see evidence and feel heard. Cities worldwide face the same pressures: tight budgets, climate targets and the need to divert waste from landfill and incineration. The global stakes are high. Waste systems account for a meaningful share of municipal budgets and of urban greenhouse-gas emissions. Small changes in collection design scale quickly.

Lessons from good policy

The UK experience offers practical lessons for other nations. The shift was not inevitable, but it has delivered three outcomes every city, town or village wants: cost savings, higher recycling and lower emissions. It frees up money for reuse schemes, repair hubs and sorting out infrastructure. It nudges households toward wasting less.

The UK story matters beyond its borders. Cities from Miyazaki, Japan, to Montreal, Canada, and Melbourne, Australia, have been learning from the evidence.

This is more than a bin schedule. It is a policy that reduces waste, lowers emissions and saves public money when paired with strong recycling services. The UK’s evidence-led rollout has created a template that other nations now test. Done right, fortnightly collections reduce waste, save money, cut emissions and change throwaway habits. Done wrong, they inflame communities.

Drawing on two decades of experience this evidence shows how careful design and phased trials turned a technical service change into mainstream policy from Wales to Canada, and why other cities should treat collection design as a strategic lever rather than a political shortcut.

This comes at a time when many local councils face renewed budget pressures and legally binding net-zero targets.

The UK’s experience provides timely, evidence-based options for cities worldwide to help them cut costs. By following the evidence, decision-makers can avoid the pitfalls that inflame communities and instead replicate the safeguards that have delivered measurable benefits.

Ian Williams receives funding from UK Research Councils, including the Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council’s Impact Acceleration Account.

– ref. Other countries can learn from the UK’s successful shift to fortnightly bin collections – https://theconversation.com/other-countries-can-learn-from-the-uks-successful-shift-to-fortnightly-bin-collections-277576

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Elizabeth Peatfield, Senior Lecturer, Criminal Justice, Liverpool John Moores University

In Britain, whether cannabis is treated as medicine or a crime may depend less on medical need than on the ability to pay. In 2018, the UK government changed drug policy, allowing specialist doctors to prescribe cannabis-based medicinal products.

The decision was presented as a move towards evidence-based healthcare, recognising cannabis may have therapeutic value for health conditions such as chemotherapy-induced nausea and vomiting, spasticity in adults with multiple sclerosis and treatment-resistant epilepsy. Nearly seven years later, though, access remains highly restricted. According to NHS guidance, medical cannabis is tightly controlled and usually considered only when other treatments have failed.

In practice, NHS prescriptions remain rare, with most patients accessing cannabis privately at considerable cost. For many others, legal access is simply unavailable.

Cannabis is recognised as medicine, yet people using it therapeutically without a prescription can still face criminal sanctions. The problem is not simply legal inconsistency but structural inequality.

While medical cannabis is legal in principle, the route to obtaining a prescription is narrow. Clinical guidance remains cautious, many doctors are reluctant to prescribe it, and patients find it difficult to navigate the system.

Those unable to afford private treatment are often left with limited options: go without treatment, rely on less effective alternatives, or obtain cannabis illegally.

The result is effectively a two-tier system in which legality is shaped not just by medical need, but by economic means. Those who can pay privately may use cannabis lawfully. Those who cannot may risk criminalisation for materially similar behaviour.

The financial barriers are significant: private patients must pay for consultations, clinic registration fees, ongoing review appointments and the medication itself. Prescriptions can run to hundreds of pounds a month, with some products priced at around £8.99 per gram.

By comparison, street cannabis typically costs £150-£200 per ounce, making it significantly cheaper – making the illicit market not just more accessible for some, but economically rational.

People who can’t access legal cannabis may be pushed towards unregulated supply chains linked to organised criminal networks. Unlike prescribed products, cannabis bought illegally has no quality checks, no guaranteed strength and no doctor overseeing how you use it. There is no guarantee it is free from harmful synthetic additives.

This creates another policy contradiction. A system intended to regulate cannabis use may, through its own restrictions, be sustaining the illicit markets it was meant to displace.

The inequality can exist even within the same household. Two people may use the same cannabis product for similar health reasons, yet only one is legally protected because they can afford the consultation fees and prescription charges required to access private treatment. The other, unable to absorb those costs, risks criminal sanctions for similar behaviour.

Legal dilemma

People using cannabis to manage chronic pain, anxiety, trauma or other long-term conditions may already be navigating significant health difficulties. Relying on illegal supply introduces additional stress, uncertainty and the fear of criminalisation on top of an already difficult health situation.

For some, the experience of breaking the law while attempting to manage their wellbeing may itself contribute to feelings of stigma, anxiety and social exclusion. This matters because research consistently shows that drug use is often functional – a way of managing pain, stress or trauma – rather than purely recreational.

In this context, self-medication with cannabis may represent a response to unmet medical need rather than deviance. Yet the law rarely accounts for this complexity. Unauthorised possession remains a criminal offence regardless of intent.

Cannabis occupies an increasingly ambiguous position in British society. According to the Office for National Statistics, it remains the most commonly used illicit drug in England and Wales. At the same time, alcohol retains a firmly established cultural and legal status despite its association with addiction, violence and long-term health harms.

One substance remains criminalised despite growing medical recognition and comparatively lower levels of harm. The other is culturally embedded despite well-documented links to addiction, violence and early death.

NHS England recorded over 1 million alcohol-related hospital admissions in 2023-24, alongside more than 22,000 alcohol-related deaths. Cannabis, by comparison, is not associated with mortality at that scale.

None of this means cannabis is without risk. Heavy use can produce dependency and mental health complications for some users, although others report relief from chronic pain, anxiety and related conditions. But the current policy framework appears difficult to justify on the basis of relative harm alone.

The continued policing of low-level cannabis possession also carries a cost to the criminal justice system, consuming police and court capacity at a time of serious backlogs.

A coherent cannabis policy would need to align law, medical evidence and lived reality. At present, UK policy sends contradictory messages. Cannabis is simultaneously framed as both a medicine and a criminal substance, depending less on how it is used than on how it is accessed.

When the difference between a prescription and a criminal record is money, that tells you everything about who a drug law is really for.

Elizabeth Peatfield 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. Cannabis: it’s medicine if you’re rich enough – a crime if you’re not – https://theconversation.com/cannabis-its-medicine-if-youre-rich-enough-a-crime-if-youre-not-282427

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Glyn White, Senior Lecturer in 20th-Century Literature and Culture, University of Salford

For many people over the age of 50, the first few bars of an old 1960s song will always prompt a smile. Bring Me Sunshine, adopted by comedians Morecambe and Wise as their theme tune in 1969, came to define the pair who sang it at the end of every show.

May 14 2026 marks the centenary of the birth of Eric Morecambe, “the funny one” to Ernie Wise’s straight man, together regarded as Britain’s pre-eminent comedy double act of the 1960s and 1970s. Recognition of that milestone is boosted by the rediscovery of a lost episode from the first BBC series of The Morecambe and Wise Show, from September 16 1968 – the corporation plans to broadcast it on his century birthday.

Morecambe was then 42 and at the beginning of a BBC run lasting until 1977 that would produce a series of Christmas specials on which the duo’s fame largely rests. Half a century later, these specials are still a feature of the BBC’s Christmas line-up. But it is difficult to convey how much of an institution Morecambe and Wise were in that three-channel 1970s world of television.

In 1999 Queen Elizabeth dedicated the statue of Morecambe on the promenade of his home town, whose name the young Eric Bartholemew adopted. There are more than ten books about the comedian, and the late Victoria Wood wrote and performed in Eric and Ernie (2011) about their early years. The hunt for missing shows that led to the recent discovery has found episodes as far afield as Sierra Leone.

An enduring double act

But why does the affection for Morecambe and Wise endure? As an academic with a specialism in TV comedy, I’m keen to explore Morecambe’s contribution to the continuing fascination with this double act.

The pair were brought together through talent shows and music-hall impresario Jack Hylton in the early 1940s. Initially Wise had the bigger name and the edge in song and dance. The double act had to be paused when they were old enough to be conscripted – Wise into the merchant navy, Morecambe as a miner in Accrington where he experienced a heart murmur, a shadow of what was ahead.

Post-war BBC Radio success led to an unhappy television debut, Running Wild (1954), but the duo were too good to be off screen for long. They became regulars on other series, until hired as the stars of ATV’s Two of a Kind (1961-68). The appearance of the Beatles on the show in 1963, right on the cusp of international stardom, illustrates these two sparky live performers’ fast, funny, irreverent signature style.

When John Lennon tries to make a point about his dad telling him about Morecambe and Wise when he was younger, indicating his height at the time, Eric responds “You’ve only got a little dad, have you?” and everyone dissolves into laughter, including Ernie.

It’s clear that while there was a script, delivered more or less successfully, there is also improvisation catching fellow performers on the hop. When Ernie sets up a joint rendition of Moonlight Bay, Eric storms in wearing a Beatles wig singing lines from their hits. He’s an aggressive, anarchic, decidedly northern spirit.

There was always a slapstick element to their comedy that takes real professionalism to make work, and to roll with it when things goes wrong. For this they drew on their music-hall roots and learned from film performers, too.

Writer Eddie Braben’s Morecambe and Wise Show sketches have them co-habiting like Laurel and Hardy and, like Oliver Hardy, Eric breaks the fourth wall, speaking to the audience directly, usually to highlight his awareness of how badly things are going. Their humour is quintessentially British.

Despite a real desire to break America, and numerous appearances on the hugely popular Ed Sullivan Show, they were not to be part of the “British invasion” of the 1960s. Instead they were regarded with real affection in a drab mid-century Britain seeking a bit of sunshine.

The great and the good flocked to appear on their Christmas specials in musical numbers and plays “wot Ern wrote”. It worked best when the guest brought some gravitas that could be undermined, as with stern classical actress Glenda Jackson, who revealed a real talent for comedy, and newsreader Angela Rippon, who revealed she had legs and an unsuspected ability to dance that is remembered today.

With male celebrities there is often an edge of rivalry. The best-known sketch of the Christmas Specials, from 1971, sees globally renowned conductor André Previn drawn in under false pretences by Ernie who has promised him the chance to work with violinist Yehudi Menuhin, setting up confusions over names. In the end Previn becomes Andrew Preview as Eric destroys Grieg’s Piano Concerto with “all the right notes just not necessarily in the right order”.

Previn managed to hold his own (and keep an admirably straight face) despite being unable to attend scheduled rehearsals, and it is noticeable how much Morecambe claps the other performers at the end. He feeds on live interaction that teeters breathlessly on the brink of collapse. This sketch is lightning in a bottle with Morecambe’s role as conductor of chaos.

But it took its toll. That early heart murmur would turn into near-fatal heart attacks in 1968 and 1979, and a fatal one in 1984, backstage after half a dozen curtain calls at a solo event. Morecambe was just 58, undoubtedly with more to give on many fronts, from comedy to writing and acting.

Watching the famous Breakfast Sketch (1976) used to irritate me, because to my younger self those pancakes weren’t going to be any good with all that eggshell in them, and the oranges weren’t cut into even halves.

But for me now, at 59, Eric and Ernie’s playfulness is clearly about the joy of being alive in the moment. The legacy of Eric Morecambe in entertainment terms is about delivering sunshine: having the ability to make such moments, and to produce them to order. There can never be enough of them.

Glyn White 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. Eric Morecambe at 100: the beloved British comedian with an anarchic northern spirit – https://theconversation.com/eric-morecambe-at-100-the-beloved-british-comedian-with-an-anarchic-northern-spirit-282547

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Jason R.C. Nurse, Reader in Cyber Security, University of Kent

It’s hard to overstate the impact that artificial intelligence has had since the release of generative AI platforms such as ChatGPT just three years ago. While they have led to countless advances in how we live and work, they have also been at the centre of controversies around domestic and sexual abuse.

The use of the AI tool Grok to remove women’s clothing in images brought the issue of so-called technology-facilitated abuse to the fore. But it’s a problem that predates AI – with Bluetooth trackers, wearable devices, smart speakers, smart glasses and apps all used by abusers to control, harass or stalk their victims.

This abuse has worsened as tech has become more embedded in people’s lives, and as AI advances rapidly. But governments have struggled to make tech companies design systems that minimise misuse, and to hold them accountable when things go wrong.

Our own research has confirmed that technology misuse has increased and that its harms are significant. But governments and the tech sector are doing little to combat it – despite numerous examples of how tech can enable abuse.

Case 1: Smart glasses

The growing availability of smart glasses – which look like normal eyewear but can do many things a smartphone does – has led to reports of secret filming. In some cases, videos were posted online, often attracting degrading and sexually explicit comments.

Meta has said its smart glasses have a light to show when they are recording and anti-tamper tech to make sure the light cannot be covered. But there appear to be workarounds.

In England and Wales, voyeurism legislation focuses on private spaces, and harassment laws do not specifically apply to targeted recording and online distribution. However, the UK Information Commissioner’s Office is investigating Meta after subcontractors were allegedly able to access intimate footage from customers’ glasses. This is in addition to a lawsuit in the US, which alleges Meta violated privacy laws and engaged in false advertising. Meta has said that it takes the protection of data very seriously and that faces are usually blurred out. It also discloses in its UK terms of service the potential for content to be reviewed either by a human or by automation.

Case 2: Bluetooth trackers

Apple’s AirTags, and other devices built for tracking personal items, can be misused to stalk and harass people, particularly women. Apple released updates to AirTags and other trackable tech so that potential victims would be alerted if an unknown device was travelling with them. But for many, this feature should have existed from the outset.

The law in England and Wales is clear that attaching tracker devices to someone without their knowledge is a criminal offence. But despite convictions, the ease of covertly monitoring people using these devices means people continue to be at risk.

Case 3: AI deepfake and ‘nudification’ apps

Apps can now “nudify” people, while AI is increasingly used to make non-consensual deepfake pornography. In January, several instances of xAI’s assistant Grok being used to create sexualised photos of women and minors came to light. All it took to create the images were some simple prompts.

After criticism, xAI decided to limit this feature. But the safeguards appear to apply only to certain jurisdictions and certain users.

In February, the UK government announced legal changes similar to the Take It Down Act in the US, which will require tech platforms in the UK to remove non-consensual intimate images within 48 hours. Failure to do so will result in fines and services being blocked, and the law is likely to be implemented from summer.

Using automated technology known as “hash matching”, victims will only need to report an image once to have it removed from multiple platforms simultaneously. The same images would then be automatically deleted every time anyone attempted to reupload them. Nudification apps and using AI chatbots to create deepfake pornography will also become illegal in the UK.

But there is more to be done. Mitigating risks must be embedded at the design stage to prevent these images being created in the first place. The rise of romantic and sexual chatbots means this has become more urgent.

And beyond deepfakes and nudification, AI can also enable harassment at scale. This includes directly targeting someone with abusive content, or fake images or profiles that impersonate victims for so-called “sextortion” scams.

Challenges ahead

These issues must be prevented with robust guardrails built into these technologies. This is what prioritising user safety should look like, after all. But often, these guardrails have failed. Safety tools are only usually added after public pressure, not built into platforms from the start.

Governments have allowed regulation to fall behind fast-paced developments. Tech companies have grown quickly, but laws and enforcement have not kept up. At the same time, police and legal systems are often under-trained or unclear on how to handle digital harm.

Even where there is regulation, such as the UK’s Online Safety Act, penalties for platforms that allow abuse are often weak or unenforceable. The regulator Ofcom has issued only voluntary guidance to tech companies on how to better protect women and girls on their platforms. Campaigners have called for this to be made mandatory, with clear penalties for companies that do not comply, placing it on a level legal footing with child sexual abuse and terrorism content.

As AI advances, tech companies must prioritise system design that puts user safety first. But until governments enforce real consequences, the tech sector will be able to profit from harm while those using the platforms bear the cost.

Jason R.C. Nurse receives/received funding from The Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council (EPSRC), The Research Institute for Sociotechnical Cyber Security, The National Cyber Security Centre (NCSC), and the UK Home Office. He is affiliated with Wolfson College, University of Oxford as a Research Member, CybSafe as the Director of Science and Research, and The Royal United Services Institute (RUSI) as an Associate Fellow.

Lisa Sugiura receives funding from Home Office Domestic Abuse Perpetrators Intervention Fund

– ref. From AirTags to AI nudification: the growing toolkit of technology-facilitated abuse – https://theconversation.com/from-airtags-to-ai-nudification-the-growing-toolkit-of-technology-facilitated-abuse-274468

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Richard Youngs, Professor of International and European Politics, University of Warwick

Compounding the alarm triggered by Russia’s 2022 full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the erratic unpredictability of the second Trump administration has made the need for European security autonomy obvious. On a number of occasions over the past year, Donald Trump has loosely intimated that he might leave the Nato defence alliance.

Washington’s recent move to withdraw 5,000 troops from Germany, plus unease over the US’s actions in Iran, have reinforced the imperative of European strategic independence. The US administration announced its planned withdrawal after the German chancellor, Friedrich Merz, criticised Trump’s Middle Eastern adventurism.

European rearmament is well underway. Governments still need to follow through on their promises to increase defence budgets to Nato’s new 5% of GDP target. But in 2025, European Nato members and Canada spent US$574 billion (£422 billion) on defence – an increase of nearly 20% on the previous year. This was the sharpest annual rise for 70 years.

The security debate should now move into a new phase in which European governments grasp the complex political implications of rearmament. These are gradually becoming apparent. Examples include a sharper trade-off between spending on defence and social programmes, and the prospect of Germany gaining military superiority as well as economic dominance.

There is also the danger of rightwing populist parties taking power with hugely increased military arsenals. Such parties are currently leading polls in France, Germany, the UK and several other countries, on agendas that sit uneasily with longstanding European security cooperation.

European militarisation adds to the eye-watering military build-up globally, which is increasing the risk of major conflict. There is also the harmful environmental impact of rearmament, and the threat of over-militarisation crowding out Europe’s focus on non-military security – an approach rooted in social development and conflict prevention.

These challenges show that rearmament represents a foundational shift for the European order. Simply grafting this defence build-up on to unreformed EU and Nato structures is likely to create new imbalances.

The EU risks losing its value as a peace project if it morphs into a security union without a more balanced and comprehensive political settlement.

Addressing the consequences

Concerns are rising in several European countries about the need to embed and constrain future German military power within a more deeply integrated EU. Calls for a “European army” are resurfacing, most recently by the Spanish government – but still without political precision.

Defence spending is growing not just through national governments, but EU-level instruments that entail deeper collective security. Many European governments are pushing towards Nordic-style, whole-of-society security in which military and civilian resources mobilise in unison. The EU’s Preparedness Union Strategy, introduced in 2025, is aimed at this too.

Such considerations show that a securitised Europe must be underpinned by continent-wide political debate and channels of accountablity. As citizens are asked to mobilise around full-spectrum defence, they need a greater say in security policies. They need a voice in the trade-offs that higher defence spending will require, and how to manage issues such as Germany’s incipient military predominance.

However, the process of rearmament is currently being carried out in a way that reinforces the opaque, crisis-mode features of EU decision-making that have nourished illiberal populist parties. Europe will struggle to legitimise its security turn without rivitalising its collective political system in ways that provide stronger and more active societal input.

European powers are currently seeking to act more assertively in defence of their immediate geopolitical interests. They are doing so while not entirely jettisoning the liberal-order principles of rules-based cooperation and openness.

But they are struggling to inject this combination with clear, precise content. European governments have not, together, defined a common position on how far European rearmament should be used to project sharper-edged power externally, in addition to dissuading aggression against European territory.

European security deployments and conflict prevention elsewhere in the world have retrenched in recent years. The withdrawal of EU military forces from Africa’s Sahel region is perhaps the most notable example. It is unclear whether the current security turn aims to reverse this trend, or move further in the same direction.

Rearmament also raises questions about the organisational structure of the European order. Security dynamics are altering power balances and the relationship between different regional bodies. They are dragging the UK back into European affairs, for example, and prompting talk of new, flexible forms of alliance across the continent.

Upgrading European burden-sharing and coordination within Nato is overdue. But the alliance is unlikely to suffice as a structural, ordering principle for post-Trump security autonomy. Other formats will be needed to allow greater thematic and geographic adaptability.

Discussions took place on defence and security matters at the European Political Community summit in Armenia on May 4. It involved not only EU member states but the UK and other non-EU European powers. Recent European coalition efforts covering Ukrainian security and navigation in the Strait of Hormuz may herald a trend towards functional and shifting clusters of states.

Security debates do not neatly match the EU’s economic and regulatory space – and this invites reflection on innovative formats. Excluded from EU security plans, the British government especially needs to be ready with proactive ideas that contribute to structural reordering, well beyond negotiations of the current EU-UK reset.

As the EU finalises its new security strategy and the UK moves forward with implementing its strategic defence review, European governments need to address the political ramifications of rearmament. These present harder, more structural challenges than hiking defence budgets – but currently, governments are pushing them down the road.

Until these challenges are resolved, European rearmament will rest on shaky foundations, and generate many difficulties in its wake.

Richard Youngs receives funding from several EU research projects.

– ref. Europe is rearming itself without addressing the political consequences – https://theconversation.com/europe-is-rearming-itself-without-addressing-the-political-consequences-282516