Category: Academic Analysis

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Olga Oleinikova, Associate Professor and Director of the SITADHub (Social Impact Technologies and Democracy Research Hub) in the School of Communication, University of Technology Sydney

“I didn’t come here to get rich. I came because I had no other way to keep my son safe and care for my displaced family”.

Anna is a 28-year-old woman from eastern Ukraine. She fled the country in 2023 after Russian troops invaded. Two years later, she agreed to become a surrogate in Georgia for wealthy foreign couples.

We met Anna, who was already pregnant, in a quiet apartment that had been rented for her by a surrogacy agency on the outskirts of the capital, Tbilisi.

Our multidisciplinary team was in Georgia to conduct a pilot research project examining the small country’s rapidly expanding surrogacy industry.

We conducted in-depth interviews with Ukrainian women to better understand their motivations for entering surrogacy arrangements, their experiences within the system, and the social, economic, and legal factors shaping their decision-making and wellbeing.

We also analysed publicly available policy and regulatory documents from the government to examine how the sector operates. We paid particular attention to emerging regulatory challenges, gaps in oversight and the state’s efforts to balance economic opportunity with ethical and human rights considerations.

The shifting geography of surrogacy

Surrogacy laws vary widely around the world. Some countries, including Australia, prohibit commercial surrogacy. Others allow it under specific conditions. These differences create cross-border markets, where intended parents travel abroad to access services that are restricted, expensive or unavailable at home.

Before Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022, Ukraine was one of the world’s largest commercial surrogacy hubs. Estimates suggest between 2,000 and 2,500 babies were born each year through surrogacy arrangements.

War disrupted the industry. Clinics closed or relocated. Travel became dangerous. Media outlets reported on intended parents struggling to reach newborns and surrogates displaced by fighting. Georgia became a safe alternative.

International surrogacy has been legal in Georgia since 1997. That’s when the country adopted legislation allowing both gestational (a woman carrying an embryo not genetically related to her) and traditional surrogacy (a woman carrying an embryo for another couple using her own egg). The first children were born through gestational surrogacy around 2007.

The country’s clear legal framework – recognising intended parents as the child’s legal guardians from birth and granting no parental rights to the surrogate – has been a key factor in its appeal.

Costs are also significantly lower than in the United States. As independent international surrogacy consultant Olga Pysana told us:

In the last year, surrogacy in Georgia cost approximately US$55,000 to $85,000 (A$78,000 to A$120,000), whereas surrogacy in the United States can cost as much as US$250,000 (A$350,000).

With international demand surging in the 2010s, Georgia (a small country of 3.7 million people) quickly became unable to meet the needs of so many parents with local women alone. So clinics began recruiting potential surrogates from abroad, including from Ukraine, Central Asian countries, Russia, Belarus, Thailand and the Philippines.

Mobile surrogates

Several of the women we interviewed had previously worked with Ukrainian agencies. After the invasion, recruiters contacted them again – this time offering placements in Georgia.

Displacement has produced a new and economically vulnerable workforce. We describe these women as “mobile surrogates”: women who move across borders to provide reproductive labour in response to war, economic crises or changing surrogacy laws. “If there was no war, I would never have left,” Anna told us.

Most of the women we interviewed had lost homes, jobs or partners. Many were supporting children and extended family members across borders. Anna had worked in a shop before the war, then cleaned houses in Poland. “Surrogacy in Georgia pays in nine months what I would earn in years,” she said.

Our research found that surrogates are typically paid around US$20,000 (A$35,500) in instalments. For families displaced by war, this amount of money can cover rent, relocation costs and schooling.

But the arrangements come with strict contractual conditions. Women may face limits on travel, their diets and daily routines. Some live in shared apartments organised by agencies.

Independent legal advice is rare. Anna signed a contract in a language she did not fully understand, but felt she had little alternative: “I just needed something stable. I couldn’t keep moving from place to place”.

Georgia’s legal framework says little about labour standards, housing conditions or long-term health support for surrogates after birth. The result is an imbalance: strong protections for intended parents, and weaker safeguards for the women carrying babies.

A draft bill was introduced in 2023 aimed at curbing paid surrogacy for foreigners, due to growing concerns about the commercialisation of the industry and potential exploitation of surrogate mothers. However, it is still pending. As of early 2026, surrogacy remains legal in Georgia for foreign heterosexual couples.

Three trends we are seeing

First, reproductive markets are highly responsive to crises. When Ukraine’s industry became unstable, demand shifted rapidly to Georgia. Global fertility markets operate like other transnational industries: when one site contracts, another expands.

Second, economic inequality shapes who participates. Displacement and financial insecurity increase women’s willingness to enter demanding reproductive arrangements.

Third, the surrogates bear the brunt of regulatory ambiguities and associated risks and challenges. This includes dealing with contracts and medical procedures in languages they don’t understand.

Reform is needed

In Georgia, clearer labour protections are essential: minimum housing standards, transparent payment schedules, and mandatory, independent legal advice in a language surrogates understand. Health coverage for the women should also extend beyond birth.

The major markets for surrogacy services, including China, the US, Australia, Israel, Germany and others, should also review how their citizens engage in overseas surrogacy. This includes stronger regulation of agencies marketing abroad and clearer ethical guidance for intended parents.

Finally, greater international coordination is needed. Shared standards for cross-border surrogacy would improve transparency and accountability in a rapidly expanding and loosely regulated global market.

As demand grows, the central question is not whether cross-border surrogacy will continue, but whether it can be governed in ways that safeguard fairness, transparency and the rights of the women whose bodies sustain it.

Nothing to disclose.

Olga Oleinikova and Polina Vlasenko do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. ‘I didn’t come here to get rich’: new research on the lives of Ukrainian women in Georgia’s surrogacy boom – https://theconversation.com/i-didnt-come-here-to-get-rich-new-research-on-the-lives-of-ukrainian-women-in-georgias-surrogacy-boom-276173

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Rodney Tiffen, Emeritus Professor, Department of Government and International Relations, University of Sydney

This is the point of absurdity we have reached: on March 15, US President Donald Trump, in a Truth Social post, asserted that American news organisations were running AI-generated Iranian propaganda, and should be charged with treason for the dissemination of false information. One of the instances he cited was coverage of Iranians at a rally to support new Supreme Leader Mojtaba Khamenei, which he said was totally AI-generated, and the event never took place, despite abundant evidence to the contrary.

The most powerful man in the world is making large and important claims, one palpably false, the others without offering any evidence, and it seems few if any people take him seriously. Then he blithely threatens to charge unnamed people with treason, which in the United States is potentially a capital offence, and again it is not clear anyone takes him seriously. Despite the all-but-universal dismissal of his statements, he will probably suffer no political consequences. It is just another drop in an ocean of unaccountability.

One reason it will pass with negligible consequences is that these accusations have become so commonplace. Republicans have long railed against the “liberal” news media, but the Trump administration has brought such attacks to a new level of intensity.

In 2017, his first year in office, Trump denounced “fake news” and called the media the enemy of the American people. He said he had a “running war” with the media, and described journalists as “among the most dishonest human beings on Earth”.

Trump’s standard response to a question he doesn’t want to answer is to call the reporter (especially female reporters) a nasty person, or to denounce the organisation they work for. Recently his response to a US ABC reporter’s question was that her employer “may be the most corrupt news organisation on the planet. I think they’re terrible.”

As the war with Iran threatened to become more politically contentious, the administration has trained its rhetorical sights on the media. Trump endorsed Federal Communications Commission Chairman Brendan Carr’s threat to revoke broadcast licences of “the corrupt and highly unpatriotic media”:

They get billions of Dollars of FREE American airwaves, and use it to perpetuate LIES, both in news and almost all of their shows, including the Late Night Morons, who get gigantic Salaries for horrible Ratings.

Far more than any of his predecessors, Trump concerns himself with individuals and media organisations. For example, he thought Netflix should dismiss one of its board members who had worked for his Democrat predecessors Barack Obama and Joe Biden: “Netflix should fire, racist, Trump deranged Susan Rice IMMEDIATELY.”

A history of legal action

Trump has gone beyond rhetorical denunciations, however. He is the first US president, in recent times at least, to sue a news organisation. His targets so far have included the Pulitzer Prize Board, the Des Moines Register and its pollster Ann Selzer, the Wall St Journal, the New York Times, Penguin Random House and the BBC.

Without exception, his writs have no legal merit. (He has already lost suits against the New York Times, Washington Post and CNN). They are a means of harassment or perhaps just a threat: Trump sued CBS in 2024 over the editing of a 60 Minutes interview with Kamala Harris. Initially CBS said the case had no merit. However, in July 2025 it agreed to settle for $16 million.

The agreement came amid CBS parent company Paramount’s $8.4 billion merger with Skydance, which received regulatory approval weeks later. Stephen Colbert, host of its top-rating night show, called it “a big fat bribe”. Three days later Colbert’s show was cancelled, which the network said was purely a financial decision.

Trump congratulated himself in a post on his Truth Social site under the headline “President Trump is reshaping the media”. He listed 12 media organisations and individuals who are “gone”, such as CNN reporter Jim Acosta and Colbert. Then he listed a dozen “reforms”, such as CNN having new ownership. He finished the post with the word “Winning”.

Apart from the president, the most enthusiastic member of the cabinet in harassing the media is former Fox News presenter, now secretary of war, Pete Hegseth. Last year he announced that journalists who solicited unauthorised military information would have their access revoked and be deemed a security risk. Fifty-five out of 56 accredited journalists refused to sign the new agreement. In March a judge ruled the policy was unconstitutional but the government has said it will appeal.

Recently, Hegseth thought photos of him were “unflattering”, so photographers were banned from his next two briefings.

So it is not surprising Hegseth has been a vocal critic of media coverage. He finished one recent tirade by saying: “The sooner David Ellison takes over [CNN], the better.”

Ellison at the wheel

What is new and alarming about this is the reference to Ellison. It follows one of the biggest corporate takeovers in history. Ellison’s company, Paramount Skydance, has just succeeded in taking over Warner Bros Discovery. CNN is part of the package Ellison has acquired.

David is the son of Larry Ellison, the sixth-richest person in the world, who founded Oracle, a wildly successful software company. After Trump became president, the Ellisons moved into media in a big way.

The family first attracted public prominence when it was a central part of Trump choreographing the formation of a US TikTok company. Biden, with the approval of Congress, had sought to ban the popular video-sharing platform because of worries about security with the Chinese company ByteDance. Instead, Trump, on his first day of this second term, started a process to make it US-based, to remove the security risk.

In the end, Ellison’s Oracle, Silver Lake and MGX became the three managing investors, each holding a 15% share in the new company. The Chinese company ByteDance retained 19.9% of the joint venture. Oracle would also handle all the software aspects. All up, a very Trump-friendly outcome.

The Ellisons next attracted attention in July 2025, when their niche media company Skydance merged with Paramount to form Paramount Plus. This made them the owner not only of one of the biggest film studios but also of TV network CBS. The consequences for CBS news have already been far-reaching.

Ellison began by pledging to end the company’s “diversity equity and inclusion” initiatives. He appointed as ombudsman the former head of a conservative think tank and named Bari Weiss, a centre-right advocate, as editor-in-chief of CBS News.

An early controversy hit with a CBS 60 Minutes episode on a notorious prison in El Salvador, where the US government is sending migrant detainees. Although it was cleared through all the normal internal processes, the story was blocked at the last minute in what the reporter called an act of censorship. It was shown four weeks later.

Six out of 20 evening news producers have left CBS, with one, Alicia Hastey, saying the kind of work she came to do was increasingly impossible, as stories were now evaluated not just on their journalistic merit but on whether they conform to a shifting set of ideological expectations.

In a missive to the newsroom, Weiss declared “we love America” should be the guiding principle for the relaunch of CBS Evening News. Putting this into practice, the new anchor of the evening news, Tony Dokoupil, finished one program by saying “[Secretary of State] Marco Rubio, we salute you”.

Ellison’s early acquisitions were dwarfed by the recent battle between Paramount Plus and Netflix to take over Warner Bros Discovery, which Paramount finally won in February 2026. Paramount’s final, winning offer valued the company at US$111 billion (A$159 billion), paying US$31 (A$44) per share. Months earlier, Netflix’s original offer was US$19 (A$27) per share. Assuming the deal goes through, Paramount will carry an estimated US$90 billion (A$128.6 billion) of debt, but it will also have a conglomerate of media-related holdings like no other company in history.

Despite the size of the takeover, which has several implications for reduced competition, commentators are confident it will achieve regulatory approval. This is principally because in the Trump era there is a strong, shall we say, transactional flavour about when regulation is enforced and when not. Trump has described the Ellisons as “two great people”. “They’re friends of mine. They’re big supporters of mine. And they’ll do the right thing.”

Media monsters

In the 1950s, looking at the way Australian newspaper companies came to control the new commercial radio and television stations, journalist Colin Bednall referred to “media monsters”. Around 1990, British media commentator Anthony Smith wrote a book titled The Age of Behemoths, looking especially at the way large corporations such as News Corp had gone international.

But both were talking about media pygmies compared with the new mega-corporation owned by the Ellisons. Apart from their software business and extensive real estate holdings, they now have a central player, TikTok, in social media. They own two of the biggest five US movie studios, they have two of the biggest five streaming services, they have large entertainment producing corporations in Discovery, Warner Bros and CBS, and they own two of the most important TV news services – CBS and CNN.

This gives them the usual commercial advantages over smaller newcomers trying to break in. It also means the news services are owned by a conglomerate that has many other interests, including some that demand negotiation with the government.

In trying to understand the moment we are living through, it is often difficult to disentangle what is of momentary significance and what of lasting importance. What are egomaniacal histrionics that will fade into history with Trump? And which signal ongoing threats to the fabric of democratic institutions?

The unprecedented media empire built by the Ellisons will not disappear, no matter who wins the next election.

Rodney Tiffen 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. Trump is remaking the US media in his own image – and smashing accountability with it – https://theconversation.com/trump-is-remaking-the-us-media-in-his-own-image-and-smashing-accountability-with-it-279107

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Brent Keogh, Lecturer in the School of Communications, University of Technology Sydney

The release of the first FIFA World Cup 2026 song Lighter by American country artist Jelly Roll, Mexican singer Carín León and Canadian producer Cirkut, has left an odd taste in the mouth of fans, like waking up in the back of a Chevy truck after accidentally downing a bottle of bargain-bin bourbon.

As the United States, Canada and Mexico prepare to host the World Cup in June, the change in genre from “world-infused” pop to Bible Belt-style country-rock reflects the awkwardness of the tournament being hosted in an increasingly isolationist America.

Themes of unity and diversity

Since the early 1990s, FIFA World Cup songs and anthems have usually reflected something of the local flavour of the host country while simultaneously promoting the ideals of global unity.

For example, the 2022 song Hayya Hayya promotes the ideal that “we are better together”. It vibrates with the rhythmic complexity of North African folk traditions, before moving into a more commercial reggae groove.

Jennifer Lopez and Pitbull’s 2014 song, We are One, incorporates Brazilian inflections in an otherwise characteristically in-your-face Pitbull dance track. Nevertheless, the global sentiment remains: “it’s your world, my world, our world today, and we invite the whole world, whole world to play”.

Similarly, Jason Derulo’s 2018 World Cup track Colors (also a Coca Cola promotional song), celebrates national pride – “I’m going to wave my flag” – while also declaring “there’s beauty in the unity we’ve found”.

Where is the excitement?

Though Lighter is a collaboration between the three host countries, it marks a significant musical shift from the characteristic European, Latino and “World” inflected pop of previous songs.

There have been other stylistic shifts in the past. The 2006 World Cup track was Time of Our Lives, a slow operatic pop ballad by Il Divo and Toni Braxton.

But Lighter isn’t another example of this. It isn’t a ballad – yet it still lacks the high energy buzz of fan favourites such as Shakira’s Waka Waka (2010 South Africa World Cup), Santana’s Dar Um Jeito (We Will Find a Way) (2014 Brazil World Cup) and Ricky Martin’s The Cup of Life (1998 France World Cup).

The usual rhythmic vitality of a World Cup song is stripped back to a country-rock dirge with an odd, almost tokenistic Spanish bridge – an offering that might more appropriately feature in a Trolls World Tour. Fans are not having it.

As one user in the YouTube comments asks: “La emoción, la pasión y el ritmo mundialista, dónde está todo eso?” (“The excitement, the passion and the World Cup rhythm, where is all that?”).

Roll between the Lord and the Devil

Lighter has also been criticised for its religious allusions. One listener bemoans: “It’s a football tournament, but let’s make a song about church choirs, Chevy trucks, chains and muddy boots”.

Although past World Cup songs have contained religious allusions, Lighter’s odd sense of the sacred is more like trying to pass off a Lord Elrond action figure as a statue of Saint Anthony.

The song is replete with the forced language of a sinner’s conversion (“chains don’t rattle no more”, “lay my burdens down”), as analogous to the flow-state of a footballer, free from whatever personal or collective trials that might have been holding them back.

As in many a good country song, the protagonist is involved in a cosmic battle for his soul.

Jelly Roll is “praying [his] way out of […] hell”. He even has a run in with the Devil, although he doesn’t trade his soul for musical talent. Rather, he escapes the Devil’s attempts to “catch” him as his boots have left the ground.

You could be forgiven for questioning whether this song was about football at all, or whether it is more reflective of Jelly Roll’s own personal conversion story (he has recently been open in proclaiming his faith in Jesus).

In Lighter, the collective “we” of previous World Cup songs has been replaced with the individualistic “I” – the local taking precedence over the global.

The elephant in the room

Now, to be fair, there are some aspects of Lighter that align with the values of its predecessors. One key theme of the song is the sense of the fight, of overcoming obstacles, and gaining individual freedom. This aligns with FIFA’s stated purpose of the song, which it says was “created for the most inclusive FIFA World Cup in history”.

However, with ICE agents likely to be haunting football stadiums like dementors – and strained relationships between the US and neighbours such as Venezuela, Mexico, Canada and Cuba (not to mention Iran) – it is questionable whether FIFA’s goals of inclusivity will be felt and realised.

Instead, Jelly Roll and Carín León’s country-rock tune seems to more accurately reflect the current US administration’s isolationist approach to global foreign policy: we know we’re in the world, but we’d rather not be.

Perhaps the next World Cup song in 2030 will bring back the excitement, passion and rhythm that fans love, and reiterate the globalist ideals of the game. For now, Lighter remains a missed penalty shot.

Brent Keogh 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. A Bible Belt track without a pulse – it’s no surprise fans hate the 2026 FIFA World Cup song Lighter – https://theconversation.com/a-bible-belt-track-without-a-pulse-its-no-surprise-fans-hate-the-2026-fifa-world-cup-song-lighter-279111