Pope Leo’s words on Palm Sunday were pointed. “Jesus does not listen to the prayers of those who wage war”, he said during an address at the Vatican.
A few days later in early April, when Timothy Broglio, the archbishop for US military services, was asked on CBS’s Face the Nation if the Iran war is a “just war” in the tradition of the Catholic church, he said: “It is not. While there was a threat with nuclear arms, it’s compensating for a threat before the threat is actually realised.”
US Vice President JD Vance – a recent convert to Catholicism – and Mike Johnson, speaker of the House, pushed back, arguing that the conflict does fit within the church’s just war tradition.
Just war theory, first articulated by St Augustine in the fifth century, outlines the church’s moral guidelines for political and military leaders to consider before choosing to go to war. But it’s not static, and the church’s own position has become more restrictive in recent years.
In this episode of The Conversation Weekly podcast, Jerry Powers, the director of Catholic Peace Building Studies at the University of Notre Dame in Indiana, explains how the Catholic church’s just war tradition evolved and the influence it’s had on US military thinking. Powers was a senior advisor on international policy for the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops during the Iraq war, and was involved in efforts to persuade the Bush administration not to invade.
He sets out the difficulty now facing Catholics serving in the US military, whose archbishop has now spoken out against the war they’re being asked to fight. “It puts military officers and especially soldiers in a real conundrum,” says Powers. “A soldier has no choice but to obey orders, and if you disobey orders you could very serious repercussions. The officer question is a different one because officers are more senior, and I think officers have to just resign their commission if at some point, they think this is an immoral war.”
Listen to the interview with Jerry Powers on The Conversation Weekly podcast. This episode of The Conversation Weekly was written and produced by Katie Flood and Mend Mariwany and the executive producer was Gemma Ware. Mixing by Eleanor Brezzi and theme music by Neeta Sarl.
Listen to The Conversation Weekly via any of the apps listed above, download it directly via our RSS feed or find out how else to listen here. A transcript of this episode is available via the Apple Podcasts or Spotify apps.
Gerard F. Powers received a grant from the Nuclear Threat Initiative that helped support the Catholic Peacebuilding Network’s Project on Revitalizing Catholic Engagement on Nuclear Disarmament. He is an expert consultant (unpaid) to the Holy See Mission to the UN. From 1987-2004, Powers was a senior advisor on international policy for the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops.
To mark International Dawn Chorus day we’ve asked wildlife experts to make their case for why their favourite songbird deserves your vote. Cast your vote in the poll at the end of the article and let us know why in the comments. We hope their words will inspire you to step outside and soak up some birdsong this spring.
Championed by Cannelle Tassin de Montaigu, Research Fellow in Ecology and Evolution, University of Sussex
When people talk about the UK’s best bird songs they often go straight for the big names – loud, dramatic performers that grab your attention. But quietly in the background is the song thrush, a bird whose song is far more impressive than it first appears.
What sets the song thrush apart is not volume or flair, but structure. Its song is built from short, clear phrases, each repeated two or three times before moving on. It’s as if the bird is politely checking that its audience is paying attention. In a dawn chorus that often feels a bit chaotic, there’s something refreshingly organised about it. It’s a bird that’s actually thought things through.
It might not have the dramatic flair of the common nightingale, and it’s less showy than some of the usual favourites. There are no soaring crescendos or dramatic flourishes. But that’s part of its charm. The song is neat, rhythmic and surprisingly memorable once you start listening for it.
In the early morning soundscape, where many birds seem determined to out-sing one another, the song thrush isn’t trying to steal the spotlight. It just quietly does its thing, and does it very well. Underrated? Definitely. Worth your vote? I’d say so.
Championed by Judith Lock, Principal Teaching Fellow in Ecology and Evolution University of Southampton
The European robin is a delightfully common sight in gardens. You will very likely have heard the characteristic “tic”, followed by a tuneful verse lasting a few seconds. In noisy urban environments they sing louder, less complex songs, in order to be heard.
The male robins use their spring song (January to June) to signal their quality to females, then forming breeding pairs, and to signal competitive ability to other males. The spring song lasts one to three seconds, composed of four to six short motifs. They have an impressive repertoire of about 1,300 motifs, indicating that song is the particularly important for robins, in comparison to birds that rely more on colourful plumage or behavioural displays to communicate with each other.
Most birds sing mainly in the morning but robins sing all day. People often mistake their lovely evening song for a nightingale’s. Constant territory defence from non-migrating robins means that the robin song is a year-round soundtrack too. From July to December, both males and females sing the autumn song, of higher-pitched long, descending notes, with interspersed warbles. This song is to defend their individual winter territories. This indicates that song first evolved first in songbirds to ensure survival, before it became a signal used by males for reproduction. Each robin’s song is dynamic, constantly changing in response to the condition and age of the bird, and their rival.
Great tit
Championed by Josh Firth, Associate Professor of Behavioural Ecology, University of Leeds
Its song may not be as flashy as the nightingale or as poetically melancholy as the blackbird. But scientists have been taught so much by the great tit’s song, heard across British habitats from ancient woodlands to urban gardens. This spring marks 80 continuous years of UK-based scientists studying great tits at Wytham Woods, Oxford, the world’s longest-running study of individually-marked animals.
The unique dataset includes a family tree totaling over 100,000 great tits, with some birds’ lineages traceable back 37 generations. Early research on
Wytham’s great tits during 1970s-1980s resulted in some the first studies to inform the scientific world about how bird song can help males find mates and defend territories, how larger song repertoires can bring more reproductive success, and how young birds learn these repertoires from neighbours (not just their fathers).
And a pioneering study published in 1987 taught us how male great tit song even tracks female fertility, increasing their singing efforts as their female partner’s egg-laying period approaches, and then quietening after she starts laying. Modern technological advances are allowing insight into the hidden meaning embedded in great tits’ songs. In-depth processing of 109,000 recordings of great tit songs has revealed how each bird’s melody tells the story of their own identity as well as that of their local culture and social circles.
A great tit’s age also affects their song: older males keep singing rarer, fading song types while younger birds adopt newer ones. So, Britain’s greatest song belongs to the great tit’s “teacher-teacher” call, for all it has taught us, and for all we have left to learn.
Championed by Joey Baxter, PhD Candidate in Ecology and Evolutionary Biology, University of Sheffield
Why change a winning formula? As far as I’m concerned, the chaffinch sings the biggest banger that UK birds have to offer. While the blackcap attempts to impress with ostentatious bells and whistles, the chaffinch keeps things simple with a catchy riff. Where the starling goes for quantity and novelty, with a frankly plagiaristic repertoire of mimicry, the chaffinch goes for quality, singing proudly in the knowledge that it is delivering a true earworm.
Bubbling trills accelerate before tumbling downwards, slowing to rich watery chirps and finishing with the final flourish. This jaunty lick, the real hook of the song, is often punctuated by an upward inflection at its end, the rising intonation giving it the air of an unanswered question. The chaffinch’s song has rhythm, it has melody, and it’s instantly recognisable. It possesses the wisdom that sometimes it is better not to do everything, but to do one thing well.
Joey Baxter receives funding from UK Research & Innovation (UKRI), via the Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council (EPSRC).
Josh Firth receives from UK Research & Innovation (UKRI), via the Natural Environment Research Council (NERC).
Cannelle Tassin de Montaigu and Judith Lock 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.
As the closure of the Strait of Hormuz drags on, the United Nations’ International Maritime Organization has sounded the alarm over a related humanitarian crisis: the plight of the crew stuck on ships at or near the strait.
Up to 20,000 seafarers on 2,000 vessels remain stranded in and around the strait, enduring a combination of physical danger and psychological stress typical of combat zones.
They face daily horrors at work. Exhausted by the risk of being hit by missiles or falling debris, they cannot rest in safe harbours, as nearby ports are not secure.
As their supplies dwindle to dangerously low levels, they must ration food and water and rely on charities such as Mission to Seafarers for supplies (at great risk to the charity workers).
The longer the crisis persists, the more likely seafarers will be working after their contracts expire. They risk not being paid and being unable to get home. Desperate seafarers have also reportedly been targeted by scammers offering safe passage through the strait in exchange for cryptocurrency.
The current crisis is deeply troubling. But the grim reality is that even at the best of times, seafarers generally experience appalling working conditions, while contending with geopolitical crises and unpredictable trade cycles.
These workers face financial insecurity, job uncertainty, physical and mental hazards, isolation, overwork and limited career prospects. Fatigue and sleep deprivation expose them to serious injuries or illnesses on vessels that often operate without adequate medical facilities or qualified doctors.
Lessons of COVID
The current crisis echoes problems revealed during the COVID pandemic. Then, some 400,000 seafarers were stranded at sea. Many were unpaid, and couldn’t be repatriated.
Some ship operators introduced “no crew change” clauses (which ban crew changes while the operator’s cargo is onboard). Such clauses in contracts undermine seafarers’ rights under the Maritime Labour Convention 2006. This exists to promote safety, security and good working conditions on ships, and protect seafarers’ rights.
As a result of an amendment to this convention, seafarers have since been designated as “key workers”. This facilitates access to shore leave, repatriation, crew changes and medical care ashore.
However, the amendments do not take effect until December 2027.
More broadly, the Maritime Labour Convention requires shipowners to provide accommodation, food, transportation, cover for medical expenses and repatriation (the cost of the seafarers’ journeys home, including accommodation).
But it relies on the countries where ships are registered (known as flag states) to regulate shipping – and ships are constantly moving and beyond the reach of regulators. Many are registered under flags of convenience (that is, not where they are owned) in countries with low labour standards that are seldom enforced.
Risk of attack or abandonment
Many commercial ships currently stuck in the Strait of Hormuz have been targeted in military operations, by bothIranian and US forces.
Seafarers also face the unique threat of abandonment. This is where shipowners – in breach of maritime law – leave them without wages, support or maintenance. This occurs when shipowners fail to secure new business.
And it is very difficult for seafarers to leave the ship on which they work. Maritime law also compels crews to keep ships safe and operational and prevents them abandoning ships except under the most extreme circumstances, such as if the vessel is sinking.
In 2025, 6,223 seafarers were abandoned on 410 ships – the sixth yearly increase in a row.
Early indications for 2026 are that the number of seafarers abandoned by shipowners already exceeds 6,000 cases.
Abandoned seafarers were also owed US$25.8 million in unpaid wages in 2025, of which just $16.5 million was recovered.
Shadow fleets
Most abandonments are linked to the shadow fleet, meaning ships that carry oil, gas and other goods in breach of sanctions. The shadow fleet has expanded to 20% of the world’s tankers and 7.5% of LPG carriers.
Shadow fleet vessels have opaque ownership, inadequate insurance and poorly trained crew obtained through illegal recruitment methods bordering on human trafficking.
They are registered in countries with lenient labour laws and poor labour protections, few safety regulations and little oversight. More than half of these ships are more than 15 years old (the traditional cut off age for tankers used by major oil companies) and are in substandard condition. They also use ports where they are unlikely to be inspected.
In addition, they are often run by small ship management companies with little technical knowledge or industry experience, about which very little information is available.
Stranded in the strait
Under the circumstances in the strait, seafarers have been denied the right of repatriation. First, the US blockade prevents ships accessing ports from which they could transit. Second, the fuel crisis has driven the price of flights to a level that many shipowners cannot afford.
India, which maintains diplomatic relations with Iran and imports 90% of its gas from the Persian Gulf, has negotiated the safe passage of its seafarers.
But thousands of others remain stranded, with no states coming to their aid.
Claudio Bozzi 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.
The Iranian closure of the Strait of Hormuz has largely brought oil traffic to a halt, hitting petroleum-exporting countries hard. Asghar Besharati / Getty Images
Two months after the United States, along with Israel, launched a war against Iran, that conflict appears far from a lasting resolution.
Much commentary on the protracted nature of the conflict has centered on the limits of both the military and diplomatic approaches to the war. But the conflict has also exposed another key reality: the limits of U.S. sanctions.
But as U.S. power in the world has slowly declined amid the rise of China and an increasingly multipolar world, the country has likewise lost some of its ability to effectively use economics as a weapon. Indeed, as scholars of economic sanctions and statecraft, we believe that the conflict against Iran has made clear the diminishing returns of U.S. economic sanctions.
U.S. economic coercion has been applied on Iran for a variety of reasons, including its alleged state sponsorship of terrorism throughout the region and its nuclear program.
The emergence of that nuclear program in 2003, which later resulted in United Nations sanctions against Iran, saw U.S. and European Union interests around Iran converge.
Then-Secretary of State Mike Pompeo speaks during a news conference announcing the Trump administration’s restoration of sanctions on Iran in 2020, two years after it left a nuclear non-proliferation deal with Iran. AP Photo / Patrick Semansky
This convergence led to the U.S. and EU cooperating on economic sanctions against Iran, which limited Iranian access to the European banking system. The combined coordinated efforts proved onerous for the Iranian economy, which, as political scientist Adam Tarock notes, meant Iran was “winning a little, losing a lot.”
The Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), negotiated between the U.S., Iran, members of the EU, Russia and China in 2015, placed limits on Iran’s nuclear program in exchange for sanctions relief. At the time, the Iranian economy was suffering crushing inflation and rampant food prices. The agreement would provide relief from decades of economic punishment and the removal of EU, UN and U.S. economic sanctions.
However, the U.S. withdrew from the agreement in 2018 under the first Trump administration and later reimposed sanctions on Iran. The return of economic sanctions as part of the first Trump administration’s maximum pressure campaign – even if not supported by other nations – saw most global firms refrain from doing business with Iran out of risk aversion.
Believing sanctions relief was not a realistic outcome after the agreement’s failure, Iran – though battered by losing access to the global financial system – has found increasingly creative workarounds. Those have included utilizing so-called shadow fleets shipping illicit Iranian goods, creating successful homemade military products like cheaply made drones and ramping up trade with partners outside the Western orbit.
Separated from a diplomatic endgame, U.S. sanctions – and the current blockade of Iranian-linked ships – appear to be only hardening Iranian resolve. Even if a deal were reached to reopen the Strait of Hormuz, Iran has said it plans to push for commercial ships to pay a toll going forward – something that didn’t exist before the war.
In effect, Iran’s ongoing de facto closure of the strait has redirected U.S. economic coercion back at the Trump administration.
Blowback in the energy markets
The biggest costs of that ongoing closure for the U.S. has been in energy.
The U.S. today is one of the largest exporters of crude and refined petroleum globally, making it particularly exposed to oil price volatility. At the same time, some Americans see the development of fossil fuel resources as a key policy priority. As the U.S. becomes more embedded in the export energy sector, it is increasingly experiencing collateral damage – namely, higher oil and gasoline prices – when its foreign policy decisions disrupt oil-related trade.
The price of oil has reached the highest level since 2022, making for higher costs at the gas pump. AP Photo / Jenny Kane
One way that collateral damage manifests is the affordability problem for many Americans as gas prices rise, which is likely to also create political costs for the Trump administration.
Famed economist Albert O. Hirschman once noted that countries use their strategic position to shift others’ cost–benefit calculations, especially through trade disruptions. And for decades, the U.S. used its privileged position in the global financial system to pressure both rising countries and those not explicitly part of the U.S. alliance.
But as the U.S. becomes more exposed to the consequences of its own decisions, its ability to lead and coerce has stalled under costs it cannot easily absorb.
No longer leading by example
Historically, U.S. economic power was made possible not only by the country’s unilateral strengths but its willingness to pool resources and work multilaterally with other nations.
The Trump White House’s inability to put together a multinational coalition to address the political and economic challenges caused by U.S.-Israeli attacks on Iran is not surprising. But they further reflect the evaporation of goodwill the U.S. previously enjoyed with allies in and outside the region.
As the U.S. abandons a playbook that has buttressed its power for decades, Russia has grown bolder, China is edging ahead of the West and middle powers like Iran are able to hold out against American economic and military strength.
None of this means the U.S. no longer holds significant global power. But its turn toward a sanction-first, ask-questions-later approach has, we believe, eroded its ability to shape the behavior of other nations. And it has done so while imposing increasingly tangible costs on both American strategy and the well-being of its own citizens.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
A humanoid robot recently made headlines around the world for running a half-marathon and beating the human world record. Around the same time, an AI-powered robot defeated an elite human player in table tennis. What the robot lacked in experience, it made up for by reacting faster and more consistently than any person could.
These moments feel like milestones. Finally, it seems machines are stepping into one of the most human arenas – sports.
But while it is tempting to frame this as robots versus humans, sport robotics isn’t really about competition. It’s about how machines can learn to move, react and interact in dynamic, unpredictable environments – and what that means for human performance.
How do you train a robot to play sport?
Training a robot to play sport is fundamentally different from training a human athlete.
People learn through practice, coaching and experience, constantly adjusting to changing conditions. In sport science, this is often described as a tight coupling between perception and action. That is, seeing, deciding, and moving in one continuous loop.
Robots, by contrast, are trained using a combination of simulation, data and control algorithms. Engineers build detailed virtual environments where robots can “practice” millions of times. They learn how to track objects, predict motion and coordinate their bodies. Sometimes, motion analysis techniques are used to track athletes doing the specific movements the robot needs to emulate.
For fast-paced sports such as table tennis, the challenge is extreme. A robot must detect the ball, predict its trajectory and execute a precise movement within fractions of a second. This requires close integration between computer vision, machine learning and real-time control.
One of the biggest advances in recent years has been the ability to train robots in simulation and then transfer those skills into the real world – a process known as “sim-to-real”. Combined with rapid improvements in sensors and computing, this has dramatically accelerated progress.
We’ve seen similar developments in robot basketball and robot soccer, where systems have evolved from simply locating the ball to coordinating as teams, making tactical decisions and adapting to opponents.
Beyond entertainment
While robot athletes make for compelling demonstrations, their greatest impact will likely be behind the scenes where they can be used to train human athletes.
One of the central challenges in sport is designing effective practice. Athletes need repetition to build skill. But they also need variability to reflect real competition. Too much repetition becomes predictable; too much variability becomes chaotic.
Robotics offers a potential way to balance both.
A robotic training partner can deliver highly repeatable actions at elite intensity, while also introducing carefully controlled variation. For example, a robotic tennis server could replicate the motion of a world-class player while systematically varying ball speed, flight and placement.
From a sport science perspective, this creates what is known as a “representative learning environment”. The key benefit is it replicates the key perceptual and decision-making demands of elite competition, which is difficult for coaches to recreate in the training environment.
In our work, we’ve been exploring how robotics could support sports such as tennis, cricket and the football codes. The goal is to combine realism, repeatability, variability, and data to enhance skill development and link technique to outcomes.
Robots may also help manage training load. They can reduce the physical demands on coaches and training partners while still exposing athletes to high-quality game-like scenarios.
Beyond performance, there are opportunities for fan engagement. Interactive robots at live events or demonstrations of elite skills could offer new ways for audiences to experience sport.
Will robots ever be ‘great’?
Over the next decade, robots will likely become more agile, more robust and better able to operate in complex environments. Tasks that robots currently find difficult, such as running on uneven terrain and catching or throwing balls, will become increasingly achievable.
But even as robots improve, there are important limits.
Sporting greatness is not just about executing movements perfectly. It involves creativity, decision-making under pressure, and the ability to adapt in ways shaped by experience, emotion and context.
From a sport science perspective, elite performance emerges from the interaction between the athlete, the task and the environment. Robots can be engineered to perform specific tasks extremely well, but they do not experience this interaction in the same embodied, meaningful way.
This means robots may surpass humans in tightly defined challenges – such as bowling a cricket ball with perfect consistency – but they are unlikely to achieve greatness in the holistic human sense.
A new role for robots in sport
Rather than replacing athletes, robots are more likely to become part of the sporting ecosystem.
In the same way that video analysis and wearable sensors have transformed training, robotics offers a new tool for coaches and sport scientists. It enables practice environments that can be precisely controlled, repeated, and adapted to individual needs.
The real opportunity is not to build robot champions, but to better understand human performance, and help athletes reach higher levels.
Jonathan Roberts receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
Marc Portus 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.
Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Eden Hoffer, PhD Candidate – Faculty of Health Sciences, Faculty of Information and Media Studies, Western University
When parents separate, decisions about children are often among the most contested aspects of the legal process. In cases involving allegations of intimate partner violence (IPV), judges are often tasked with resolving disputes of extraordinary complexity as they try to balance children’s best interests and safety with parents’ rights to remain involved in their kids’ lives.
In these types of cases, rulings about access to the children are about more than determining parenting schedules. Decisions shape whether children are protected and if abuse continues through the legal system itself.
Bill C-223, the Keeping Children Safe Act, is Parliament’s attempt to address how Canadian courts navigate these tensions. Introduced in September 2025 by Liberal MP Lisa Hepfner, the bill proposes changes to the Divorce Act aimed at strengthening how courts address family violence during divorce and custody proceedings.
IPV survivor support groupsand advocates have long raised concerns about the weaponization of parental alienation claims against mothers in cases involving IPV — especially against those who raise concerns about their children’s contact with an abusive parent.
This dynamic often follows a familiar pattern — a mother experiencing IPV may seek to limit parenting time due to child safety concerns. In response, the other parent may allege parental alienation.
When courts accept these allegations, the focus shifts away from abuse and toward the primary caregiver’s behaviour, which can then be interpreted as manipulation.
In some cases, this has led to expanded or even court-ordered contact, including reunification interventions, despite children’s expressed fears or resistance to contact with the other parent.
Limiting alienation claims, then, is not a denial that children can be harmed when one parent undermines their relationship with the other. Instead, it acts as a safeguard against post-separation abuse continuing through the legal process.
Oversimplifying complex family situations
Despite support for the bill among advocacy groups, some legal scholars and family justice researchers have raised concerns about how it may limit judges’ ability to respond effectively. This is particularly the case in situations where one parent has genuinely undermined a child’s relationship with the other parent, even in the absence of IPV.
It is precisely because similar dynamics can arise in both abusive and non-abusive situations that critics argue judges require broad discretion to examine multiple possible explanations for a child’s resistance, including — in some cases — deliberate interference by a parent.
This suggests that limiting reliance on alienation-style evidence could restrict how courts evaluate such complexity, raising concerns about how effectively high-conflict parenting disputes can be resolved.
Critics of the bill aren’t defending or overlooking the historic misuse or weaponization of alienation claims. Instead, they question whether the bill risks replacing one flawed framework with another — one that may be poorly suited to ambiguous or less typical cases.
Balancing protection and children’s voices
At the centre of debates over Bill C-223 is a broader question about what effective child protection should look like in family law.
On one hand, the bill strengthens children’s voices and moves away from reducing their views as simply a product of parental influence.
At the same time, there is value in maintaining judicial flexibility. Even though clearer legislation may reduce the misuse of claims like parental alienation, there is still risk when limiting the range of options available to judges faced with complex situations.
But whether the bill ultimately achieves its intended goal will depend not only on its final wording, but also how courts interpret and apply its principles in practice.
As debates over Bill C-223 continue, the question is not whether reform is needed, but how to develop legal frameworks that protect children from harm while also preserving the flexibility that is needed to respond to complex, highly individualized cases.
The authors 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.
Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Kathryn Hibbert, Distinguished University Professor, Faculty of Education, cross-appointed to Medical Imaging, Schulich School of Medicine & Dentistry, Western University
The most important resource in any classroom is the educator, supported by conditions needed to do the work they were professionally prepared to do.
When problems become products
In a digitized education market, learning resources increasingly arrive as “bundled systems:” assessments, textbooks, subscriptions, scripted lessons, professional development and data-tracking tools.
In my 44 years in education, I have seen Ontario schools cycle through one purchased literacy program after another, such as Jolly Phonics, Four Blocks and Fountas & Pinnell’s Leveled Literacy Intervention.
The Right to Read inquiry report issued 157 recommendations to improve students’ literacy learning with emphasis on curriculum, teacher professional development and early screening of foundational reading skills.
Beginning in 2023, Ontario required twice yearly screening for all children in kindergarten, Grade 1 and Grade 2.
Some resources covered by these agreements are associated with large multinational vendors such as Pearson. Policy researcher Curtis B. Riep examines how this education company is an example of the growing role of corporate “partners, contractors and enablers” in education systems increasingly shaped by market logic.
Ontario’s Information and Privacy Commissioner has called for open contracting so the public can see what is purchased, how suppliers are chosen, what contracts cost and who is accountable.
Yet reporting about awarded suppliers on the the Ontario Education Collaborative Marketplace (OECM) — a not-for-profit sourcing organization that partners with Ontario’s education sector and the broader public sector — still gives scarce detail about where public funds are going.
Appeal of ‘the quick fix’
The appeal of the quick fix is not new. As American journalist H.L. Mencken warned more than a century ago: “There is always a well-known solution to every human problem — neat, plausible and wrong.”
Even when screening tools are efficient and well-designed, teachers often lack the time, class-size conditions and specialist support needed to respond meaningfully to the results.
Strengthening reading instruction is essential. That doesn’t mean buying commercial programs is the answer — especially when deteriorating classroom conditions are driving qualified teachers away, leaving schools increasingly reliant on unqualified supply workers.
Literacy and the opportunity gap
Canadian literacy professor Jim Cummins cautions against moving too quickly, from labelling children “at risk” to buying new programs. The “right to read,” he argues, must also include the “opportunity to read” — early immersion in language and books gives children advantages no commercial package can reproduce.
Often overlooked in the rush to purchase products is the fact that the Right to Read report also called for improving the conditions that make effective instruction possible: sustained professional learning, specialist support and adequate funding. Yet the Financial Accountability Office of Ontario shows that real per-student operating funding has fallen to its lowest level in 10 years.
Comparative research on high-performing education systems points to sustained investment in well-prepared teachers, professional autonomy and coherent public systems.
Ontario stands at a familiar crossroads: keep reaching for solutions that are quick to purchase and easy to measure, or do the harder work of building lasting public capacity.
Equitable conditions for learning
The Right to Read report called for a stronger system grounded in professional knowledge, sustained support and equitable learning conditions: smaller primary classes, restored specialist support, rich early language environments and teacher education grounded in deep literacy expertise.
Kathryn Hibbert 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.
Source: The Conversation – USA – By Austin Sarat, William Nelson Cromwell Professor of Jurisprudence and Political Science, Amherst College
President-elect Donald Trump speaks during Turning Point USA’s AmericaFest at the Phoenix Convention Center on Dec. 22, 2024, in Arizona. Rebecca Noble/Getty Images
Three days later, Trump posted an image depicting Jesus with his left hand on the president’s shoulder. Referring to that post, Trump observed, “Radical Left Lunatics might not like this, but I think it is quite nice!!!”
Political messianism is a style of leadership that places great faith in a single leader who is endowed with godlike attributes. It does not welcome dissent, and it portrays politics as a struggle between good and evil.
Eric Voegelin, a 20th-century political thinker, warned that political messianism often fuels authoritarian rule. It divides society, with a messianic leader’s supporters seeing him as a savior who will deliver their country into a golden age, while opponents foresee a coming apocalypse.
Democratic politics thrive when leaders and followers act with modesty and humility, when no one sees themselves as infallible or indispensable. As someone who teaches and writes about U.S. democracy, I don’t think it can thrive, or even survive, when its leaders see themselves as godlike and when the citizenry is divided into true believers and heretics.
At the Republican National Convention in 2016, he boasted that “I alone can fix it,” referring to a system that was responsible for what he would later call “American carnage.”
In 2023, he described what he had done in his first term this way: “I think you would have a nuclear war if I weren’t elected.” As president, “I was very busy. I consider this the most important job in the world, saving millions of lives.”
And in a Jan. 8, 2026, interview with The New York Times, Trump said, “I don’t need international law,” since his actions as commander in chief were guided only by “my own morality. My own mind.”
The president is not alone in believing in his messiah status, or in comparing himself to Christ. On April 2, 2026, at a White House Easter celebration, Paula White-Cain, one of his spiritual advisers, used Jesus’ death and resurrection to explain what had happened to Trump.
“Jesus taught so many lessons through his death, burial, and resurrection,” she said. “He showed us great leadership, great transformation requires great sacrifice. And Mr. President … you were betrayed and arrested and falsely accused. It’s a familiar pattern that our lord and savior showed us.”
In this handout provided by the Fulton County Sheriff’s Office, former U.S. President Donald Trump poses for his booking photo at the Fulton County Jail on Aug. 24, 2023, in Atlanta, Ga. Fulton County Sheriff’s Office via Getty Images
Democracy and humility
In a democracy, it’s dangerous for leaders to see themselves as better than or morally superior to the people they serve. President Joe Biden captured that insight when, after he was elected, he recalled a family mantra instilled in him by his mother: “‘Joey, no one is better than you. Everyone is your equal, and everyone is equal to you.’”
The political philosophy scholar Michael Sandel, whose book “The Tyranny of Merit” seeks to explain what happens to democracy when people, not just leaders, think that they are better than others, argues that such a view breeds “meritocratic hubris.” Such hubris has “a corrosive effect … on the social bonds that constitute our common life,” he writes.
“Humility is a civic virtue essential to this moment,” he adds. “It’s a necessary antidote to the meritocratic hubris that has driven us apart. It points … toward a less rancorous, more generous public life.”
Michael Walzer, another political theorist, explained the dangers of messianic politics this way: It “poses dangers to social order and national survival.” When it takes hold, he writes, “compromise is preempted by command; moral absolutism leaves no room – or all too little – for maneuver in times of crisis and emergency.”
Presidential fallibility
Even the greatest American presidents have not seen themselves as American saviors. They embraced at least some of the humility Sandel describes.
George Washington described the kind of person who would succeed him in office as just “a citizen,” not a savior or a person of extraordinary gifts. Their task, he thought, would not be grand. They would be chosen “to administer the executive government of the United States.”
Washington acknowledged that his judgment was “fallible” and that he’d made numerous errors during his time in office. “Whatever they may be,” he said, “I fervently beseech the Almighty to avert or mitigate the evils to which they may tend.”
He resisted the idea advanced by John Adams, who wanted the first U.S. chief executive to be called “His Elective Majesty,” “His Mightiness” and even “His Highness, the President of the United States of America and the Protector of their Liberties.” Washington turned down the pompous titles and accepted instead the simple title adopted by the House: “The President of the United States.”
Not a trace of a messiah complex in someone who could understandably have seen himself that way.
This photo illustration created on April 13, 2026, shows a picture of President Donald Trump on a screen and an AI-generated picture he posted on his Truth Social platform depicting himself as Jesus Christ after criticizing Pope Leo XIV. Mandel Ngan/AFP via Getty Images
Or take Abraham Lincoln.
In his Gettysburg Address, considered one of the greatest speeches in American history, Lincoln did not toot his own horn or exaggerate the significance of his own words. Just the opposite.
As Rabbi Menachem Genack observes, Lincoln asserted during the dedication of the cemetery for fallen soldiers at Gettysburg that “’the world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here.’ (T)hat phrase was not an expression of false modesty nor just a poor prediction of how that tribute would be recorded. It was a symbol of deep-seated humility.”
And in an 1860 letter to an admirer who wanted to inscribe a book to him during his first presidential campaign, Lincoln responded that “begging only that the inscription may be in modest terms, not representing me as a man of great learning, or a very extraordinary one in any respect.”
Almost 100 years later, President Harry Truman referred to himself as nothing more than an “old man who by accident became president of the United States.”
‘If men were angels’
Writing in 1788, Alexander Hamilton reminded Americans of a key maxim of life in a constitutional democracy. Government, he said, is “the greatest of all reflections on human nature. If men were angels, no government would be necessary.”
“If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary,” Hamilton said. “In framing a government which is to be administered by men over men, the great difficulty lies in this: you must first enable the government to control the governed; and in the next place oblige it to control itself.”
Democracy is a mode of government built on the idea that none of us is infallible, including those who assume positions of leadership. Elections give the people the chance to change course and correct mistakes.
Presidential scholar Stephen Hess captured the essence of democratic leadership in a 2009 interview with Reuters. He said: “It’s more important to admit mistakes than to make them.”
In the end, as Walzer observes, there can be no messiahs in a democracy. The leader cannot “cast aside” the people. In a democracy, they must be “chastised, defended, argued with, educated” by those who lead.
Those “activities,” Walzer insists, “undercut and defeat” any pretense that it is only the leader who knows the way.
Austin Sarat does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation – USA – By Robert D. Bland, Assistant Professor of History and Africana Studies, University of Tennessee
The Supreme Court issued a significant ruling that could limit minority voting rights in states across the country.Bloomberg Creative via Getty Images
Divided along ideological lines, the U.S. Supreme Court on April 29, 2006, issued a ruling that severely weakens a provision of the landmark Voting Rights Act of 1965. That provision, known as Section 2, prohibited any discriminatory voting practice or election rule that results in less opportunity for minority groups to exercise their political clout.
In her dissent on the ruling, Justice Elena Kagan wrote that it is the “latest chapter in the majority’s now-completed demolition of the Voting Rights Act.”
The decision in the case known as Louisiana v. Callais struck down a Louisiana voting district drawn to consolidate Black voters into a district where they would be the majority. The court’s conservative majority deemed the drawing of the district an unconstitutional gerrymander.
That, wrote Kagan, will “systematically dilute minority citizens’ voting power.”
I’m a historian of racial formation and electoral and cultural politics in the U.S. I see this decision by the nation’s highest court as the latest in a long line of successful attempts, by both state and federal authorities, to limit the political power of Black Americans and, most recently, to reverse the gains they won in two periods of civil rights advancement.
While the conservative majority in Louisiana v. Callais did not explicitly strike down Section 2, the ruling appears likely to nonetheless open the floodgates for widespread vote dilution by allowing primarily Southern state legislatures to redraw political districts, weakening the voting power of racial minorities.
The first Black senator and representatives were elected in the 1870s, as shown in this historic print. Library of Congress
The case was brought by a group of Louisiana citizens who declared that the federal mandate under Section 2 to draw a second majority-Black district violated the equal protection clause of the 14th Amendment and thus served as an unconstitutional act of racial gerrymandering.
Initially designed to enshrine federal civil rights protections for freed people facing a battery of discriminatory “Black Codes” in the postbellum South, the 14th Amendment’s equal protection clause has been the foundation of the nation’s modern rights-based legal order, ensuring that all U.S. citizens are treated fairly and preventing the government from engaging in explicit discrimination.
As I highlight in my new book “Requiem for Reconstruction,” the struggle over the nation’s second founding not only highlights how generational political progress can be reversed but also provides a lens into the specific historical origins of racial gerrymandering in the United States.
Without understanding this history – and the forces that unraveled Reconstruction’s initial promise of greater racial justice – we cannot fully comprehend the roots of those forces that are reshaping our contemporary political landscape in a way that I believe subverts the true intentions of the Constitution.
The long history of gerrymandering
Political gerrymandering, or shaping political boundaries to benefit a particular party, has been considered constitutional since the nation’s 18th-century founding, but racial gerrymandering is a practice with roots in the post-Civil War era.
Expanding beyond the practice of redrawing district lines after each decennial census, late 19th-century Democratic state legislatures built on the earlier cartographic practice to create a litany of so-called Black districts across the postbellum South.
The nation’s first wave of racial gerrymandering emerged as a response to the political gains Southern Black voters made during the administration of President Ulysses S. Grant in the 1870s. Georgia, Alabama, Florida, Mississippi, North Carolina and Louisiana all elected Black congressmen during that decade. During the 42nd Congress, which met from 1871 to 1873, South Carolina sent Black men to the House from three of its four districts.
Initially, the white Democrats who ruled the South responded to the rise of Black political power by crafting racist narratives that insinuated that the emergence of Black voters and Black officeholders was a corruption of the proper political order. These attacks often provided a larger cultural pretext for the campaigns of extralegal political violence that terrorized Black voters in the South, assassinated political leaders, and marred the integrity of several of the region’s major elections.
Election changes
Following these pogroms during the 1870s, southern legislatures began seeking legal remedies to make permanent the counterrevolution of “Redemption,” which sought to undo Reconstruction’s advancement of political equality. A generation before the Jim Crow legal order of segregation and discrimination was established, southern political leaders began to disfranchise Black voters through racial gerrymandering.
These newly created Black districts gained notoriety for their cartographic absurdity. In Mississippi, a shoestring-shaped district was created to snake and swerve alongside the state’s famous river. North Carolina created the “Black Second” to concentrate its African American voters to a single district. Alabama’s “Black Fourth” did similar work, leaving African American voters only one possible district in which they could affect the outcome in the state’s central Black Belt.
South Carolina’s “Black Seventh” was perhaps the most notorious of these acts of Reconstruction-era gerrymandering. The district “sliced through county lines and ducked around Charleston back alleys” – anticipating the current trend of sophisticated, computer-targeted political redistricting.
Possessing 30,000 more voters than the next largest congressional district in the state, South Carolina’s Seventh District radically transformed the state’s political landscape by making it impossible for its Black-majority to exercise any influence on national politics, except for the single racially gerrymandered district.
South Carolina’s House map was gerrymandered in 1882 to minimize Black representation, heavily concentrating Black voters in the 7th District. Library of Congress, Geography and Map Division
Although federal courts during the late 19th century remained painfully silent on the constitutionality of these antidemocratic measures, contemporary observers saw these redistricting efforts as more than a simple act of seeking partisan advantage.
“It was the high-water mark of political ingenuity coupled with rascality, and the merits of its appellation,” observed one Black congressman who represented South Carolina’s 7th District.
Racial gerrymandering in recent times
The political gains of the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 1960s, sometimes called the “Second Reconstruction,” were made tangible by the 1965 Voting Rights Act. The law revived the postbellum 15th Amendment, which prevented states from creating voting restrictions based on race. That amendment had been made a dead letter by Jim Crow state legislatures and an acquiescent Supreme Court.
In contrast to the post-Civil War struggle, the Second Reconstruction had the firm support of the federal courts. The Supreme Court affirmed the principal of “one person, one vote” in its 1962 Baker v. Carr and 1964 Reynolds v. Sims decisions – upending the Solid South’s landscape of political districts that had long been marked by sparsely populated Democratic districts controlled by rural elites.
The Voting Rights Act gave the federal government oversight over any changes in voting policy that might affect historically marginalized groups. Since passage of the 1965 law and its subsequent revisions, racial gerrymandering has largely served the purpose of creating districts that preserve and amplify the political representation of historically marginalized groups.
This generational work is being undone by the current Supreme Court with its ruling in Louisiana v. Callais.
Robert D. Bland does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Kerri J. Malloy, Assistant Professor of Native American and Indigenous Studies, San José State University
A museum curator removes a rare Native American Chumash basket from California, circa 1800, at the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, Mass., in 2003.MediaNews Group/Boston Herald via Getty Images
Many universities and museums in the U.S. have long held Native American burial artifacts, other sacred objects and even human remains.
Most of these collections were acquired in the late 19th and 20th centuries. They came from grave excavations, anthropological research and other practices carried out without the consent of Native American communities.
In 1990, Congress passed the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act, or NAGPRA. This law requires federally funded institutions, including museums and universities, to identify Native American artifacts, consult with tribes and return them to descendants, tribes and Native Hawaiian organizations.
Some institutions, like the University of California, have publicly committed to returning Native American artifacts and remains to the proper communities, in a process known as repatriation. But progress has been slow, and many sacred objects and remains are still held in collections.
It’s about how universities and other institutions are confronting the histories that produced these collections in the first place.
Yup’ik masks are displayed at the National Museum of the American Indian in Washington. Kerri J. Malloy
The case of the University of California
The University of California is not the only institution confronting this issue of repatriation. But it is one of the country’s most visible university systems, with 10 campuses across the state.
As of February 2026, the university repatriated 9,303 human remains, 476,592 items used for burials, and 140,443 other cultural items, among other objects, according to its database.
Between 2020 and 2024 alone, the University of California campuses completed 100 repatriations involving thousands items, according to the California state audit released in April 2025.
However, the university is facing criticism from tribal leaders and state auditors for moving too slowly.
The 2025 audit found that the University of California still holds the remains of thousands of Native American individuals, along with hundreds of thousands of cultural items. The university’s own database confirms this analysis.
The audit also found gaps in the repatriation work. Some campuses are still discovering new collections that they did not initially document. The University of California’s office of the president does not systematically track this recovery effort, the audit found.
At the university’s current pace, some of its campuses could take more than a decade to finish repatriation.
Earlier state audits in 2019and 2021 reached similar conclusions. They pointed to weak oversight, delayed planning and limited funding to make good on repatriation promises.
Although the president of the University of California required all campuses to create repatriation plans, many still lack full timelines or other clear steps to solve complex situations.
At the University of California, Davis, 30 items believed to be part of Native American collections were stolen from a display case in 2022. In this case, the university was not sure whether the stolen items initially came from Native communities or not.
A deeper meaning for Native Americans
For Native American communities, ancestral remains are not specimens – they are relatives.
Some of these artifacts were placed with the dead as part of burial practices. These sacred and cultural objects carry ceremonial, historical and communal meaning that does not disappear when they enter a university or museum collection.
Some tribes believe their ancestors’ spirits cannot rest until they are properly reburied, as California’s audits note.
When institutions hold on to Native people’s bodies and belongings for decades, fail to track them fully and then delay their return, the issue is not only administrative. It is also a matter of authority and respect.
This question is especially urgent in California, where many Native American tribes are not federally recognized.
In 2001, California created its own repatriation law, CalNAGPRA, to include these tribes in repatriation work.
However, changes to federal rules in 2024 have made it harder to return certain ancestral remains and cultural items to nonfederally recognized California tribes.
That conflict between federal and state law has made an already difficult process harder.
A widespread issue
This problem is not limited to California.
Across the country, a small number of universities, museums and government agencies hold a large share of the Native American remains and cultural items that have not yet been returned.
Some institutions have interpreted the 1990 law narrowly. In some cases, they have discounted tribal knowledge and labeled ancestral remains as “culturally unidentifiable,” meaning no clear tribal affiliation could be determined.
Moving beyond symbolism
Repatriation at the University of California is part of a broader reckoning. Universities and museums across North America and Europe face the same question: How will they move beyond symbolic statements and address the legacy of colonialism in their collections?
The University of California says campuses are updating plans, budgets and reporting in response to the 2025 audit. It has pledged to return all items by 2028.
I think that these are important steps. But a larger question remains: Will this action lead to more accountability and a quick return of all Native American items and ancestral human remains?
Repatriation is not only about correcting the past. It is a test of how universities serve the public, including Native American communities.
The University of California has adopted policies that include language of repair. The challenge now is to match that language with meeting self-imposed deadlines, and holding true to promises and the federal law in a timely matter.
Kerri J. Malloy does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
