Mexico is losing its battle with the cartels after years of flawed strategy

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Amalendu Misra, Professor of International Politics, Lancaster University

Crime is deeply entrenched in Mexico. The Global Organized Crime Index, a tool designed to measure levels of organised crime in a country, places Mexico third out of 193 nations in terms of criminality. At the core of Mexico’s struggle with organised crime is its network of powerful drug cartels.

The Mexican state and society have long been held hostage to the power and influence of these organisations, the most recent manifestation being the anarchy that followed the killing of Jalisco cartel leader, Nemesio “El Mencho” Oseguera Cervantes, by security forces on February 22.

His killing unleashed a wave of violent unrest. Cartel members blockaded roads and torched vehicles across various towns and cities in retaliation. And a number of inmates were sprung from a prison in the coastal city of Puerto Vallarta, prompting the authorities to urge people not to venture out.

Mexico has been following the same rulebook of engagement with the cartels for much of the past two decades, with limited success. The war on drugs that started in 2006 under the then-Mexican president, Felipe Calderón, has seen the authorities go after cartel bosses.

This has resulted in the capture of senior Sinaloa cartel figures like Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán, Ovidio Guzmán López and Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada. It has also led to a number of high-profile killings, including Los Zetas cartel leader Heriberto Lazcano Lazcano in 2010 and now El Mencho.

As I have argued in the past, this is a futile strategy. The killing or arrest of cartel leaders rarely spells the end for an affected organisation. As El Mayo said in an interview with a Mexican news magazine called El Proceso in 2010: “As soon as capos [leaders] are locked up, killed or extradited, their replacements are already around.”

Killings and arrests can also create openings for other cartels or splinter groups to fill the vacuum left behind by the previous leadership. This often results in violent turf wars. The arrest of Sinaloa cartel leader El Chapo in 2016, for example, led to hundreds of killings within the cartel itself as well between rival cartels that continue to this day. The killing of El Mencho is likewise bound to stir the pot of violence.

Explaining cartel violence

There are several interrelated factors that contribute to the power of Mexican cartels, complicating the government’s efforts to tackle crime. Restricting cartel violence in Mexico requires overcoming criminal impunity, youth unemployment and, perhaps the most challenging problem, the complete disregard for life among cartel members.

The Mexican judiciary has long been plagued by impunity, corruption and mismanagement. The rate of impunity for violent crimes in Mexico is estimated to stand at close to 95%, while just 16% of criminal investigations in the country were resolved in 2022. According to Human Rights watch, the violence perpetrated by Mexican criminal groups is directly linked to the impunity they enjoy.

Mexico, like many other countries in Latin America, is also affected by rampant youth unemployment. Figures released by the International Labour Organization suggest the unemployment rate for young people in the region was three times higher than that of adults in 2025. And around 60% of the young people who are employed in Latin America work under informal conditions.

Mexican governments have consistently failed to produce a national strategy to address this, with the perpetually reproducing ecosystem of grinding poverty and government apathy pushing generations of underprivileged young people towards the cartels.

As various studies show in Mexico and elsewhere, those without a social security umbrella or access to opportunities to address their everyday economic needs are more likely to join criminal groups. Now, estimates of cartel membership in Mexico suggest that such groups would rank as the fourth-largest employer in the country.

Meanwhile, the Mexican authorities lack a nationwide strategy aimed at the voluntary demobilisation of cartel members and their reintegration into society. Successive governments have responded to rising violence with policies that favour military force and arrest over rehabilitation.

Weak law enforcement and a void of economic opportunities have undoubtedly contributed to the spread of cartel violence in Mexico. But the complete disregard for life among cartel members is another contributing factor. As UK-based researcher Karina García Reyes, whose work involves speaking to former cartel members, wrote in a recent article in the Spanish-language newspaper El País:

Mexico’s narcos may not blame the state or society for their condition of poverty – each is, after all, his own man – but they don’t feel remorse for their crimes, either. They had the ‘bad luck’ of being born in poverty, they told me, and their victims had the ‘bad luck’ to be in their way.

The Mexican state is taking steps to address youth unemployment and criminal impunity. Through the Plan México initiative, for example, the president, Claudia Sheinbaum, has promised to provide apprenticeships and monthly stipends to young people and boost educational infrastructure. The initiative also involves a pledge to expand university spots by 330,000 places.

However, with Mexico’s sluggish GDP growth of only 1% over the past 12 months, achieving these goals appears more difficult now than when Sheinbaum announced the plan in January 2025. And, even with these efforts, weaning criminals away from their established practice of violence will be a difficult undertaking.

Clearly, countering cartel violence in Mexico through military action has its limitations. In order to achieve greater success in addressing the problem, the government needs to undertake wholesale reforms to tackle the root causes of criminality – poverty, inequality and corruption – rather than relying solely on force to silence criminals.

Until then, Mexico will remain hostage to cycles of violence at the hands of its cartels.

The Conversation

Amalendu Misra is a recipient of British Academy and Nuffield Foundation Fellowships.

ref. Mexico is losing its battle with the cartels after years of flawed strategy – https://theconversation.com/mexico-is-losing-its-battle-with-the-cartels-after-years-of-flawed-strategy-277104

The man who fell in love with the sound of Spitfires – here’s what this unusual symptom can teach us about dementia

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Lucy Core, Postdoctoral Researcher in the Brain Behaviour Group, UCL

A 68-year-old man’s sudden love for Spitfire engine noises turned out to be an early sign of dementia. Kev Gregory/ Shutterstock

When people hear the word dementia, they often think of someone who has problems with memory. While memory is often affected in dementia, this is not always the case. There are many different types of dementia – and each can produce a wide range of symptoms.

A recent case study has even described a 68-year-old man with a rare form of dementia that caused him to develop a fascination with a very specific type of noise. As this type of dementia has only been recently recognised by medical experts, this finding suggests that changes in preferences for sounds may be a key feature of the syndrome.

Dementia is an umbrella term to describe cognitive (thinking) problems that are severe enough to affect everyday life. There are many types of dementia – such as Alzheimer’s disease, which is the most common form. It is characterised by memory loss and other cognitive changes.

Another subtype is frontotemporal dementia, which tends to affect people before age 65.

As the name suggests, frontotemporal dementia affects brain regions in the frontal and temporal lobes, which sit behind the forehead and above the ears. These areas of the brain are involved in a wide range of functions – including personality, behaviour, problem solving, planning, language, processing and understanding sounds. This form of dementia mainly affects behaviour or language abilities.

There are three main variants of frontotemporal dementia, each of which have differing symptoms: the behavioural variant (affecting behaviour and personality), the non-fluent variant (affecting speech production) and the semantic variant (affecting knowledge and understanding speech).

But some researchers believe there’s a fourth variant of frontotemporal dementia, as well. Evidence for this fourth variant was described in a case study I helped conduct.

A 68-year-old man, who we called “CP”, developed an unusual love for Spitfire engine noises. CP’s wife first noticed this strange behaviour about two years before he was diagnosed with dementia.

CP lived near an airfield, and veteran aircraft would frequently fly over his home. He would drop whatever he was doing and run outside, waving at the planes and crying tears of joy whenever he heard them. He had never reacted this way before the onset of his condition.

His love for engine noises was very specific to this type of plane. He did not react the same way to the sound of other planes, nor show a general interest in aircraft or vehicles. He also found birdsong and people with high-pitched voices irritating. He even became very particular about music, disliking covers and preferring originals.

A few years before his sudden love for Spitfire noises began, CP became moody and short-tempered. He became increasingly cold and apathetic towards others and lacked impulse control and awareness of socially acceptable behaviour. For instance, he was indifferent to a death in the family and frequently interrupted other people when they were speaking – things he would have never done before his disease.

He also lost understanding of humour, developed a sweet tooth and became fixated on playing chess and doing word searches. He sometimes failed to recognise the faces of acquaintances but did not have problems recognising people’s voices over the telephone. CP did not show any problems with remembering previous events or language.

About five years after symptoms emerged, CP was diagnosed with behavioural variant frontotemporal dementia. But we believe CP had a newer, fourth variant – sometimes referred to as the “right temporal variant”.

An MRI scan showing a brain with frontotemporal dementia.
There are potentially four variants of frontotemporal dementia.
Atthapon Raksthaput/ Shutterstock

This variant was given its name because most of the tissue loss occurs in the right temporal lobe of the brain. This brain area is mainly involved in understanding concepts and deriving meaning from nonverbal information, such as social cues. Scans of CP’s brain showed that large portions of this region were missing.

The right temporal variant of frontotemporal dementia also appears to cause a mix of symptoms typically seen in both the behavioural and semantic variants. However, there’s still debate within the research community over how to define it.

Learning about dementia

There’s a lot that can be learned from CP.

First, his story helps spread awareness of frontotemporal dementia. Lack of awareness is a major issue – even among doctors, as it’s commonly misdiagnosed as other psychiatric illnesses or Alzheimer’s disease.

CP’s story also helps to clarify the right temporal variant of frontotemporal dementia. His symptoms suggest that the development of new fixations may be a defining feature of the syndrome.

CP’s case is also an example of how dementia can cause changes in how people process sounds.

A link between hearing impairment and dementia is already well established. However, the nature of this relationship is unclear.

Although it has been widely claimed in the media that hearing loss causes dementia, it might also be the other way around – that dementia causes hearing changes. CP’s story provides evidence of this, as his abnormal love for specific noises only occurred after disease onset.

Alzheimer’s disease research also supports the idea of dementia causing hearing changes. For instance, impairments in auditory scene analysis – the ability to separate overlapping sounds, such as listening to one speaker among background noise – has emerged as a common symptom.

CP’s story also demonstrates how dementia can change what people find pleasurable as well as their emotions. Intense obsessions, aversions and changes in preferences (such as suddenly loving or hating certain foods, music or colours) have been widely reported in frontotemporal dementia.

I had the pleasure of meeting CP and his wife and learning about their dementia journey first-hand. CP’s story illustrates how important it is to recognise the variety of symptoms in dementia. This will in turn help lead to earlier diagnosis and the development of tailored interventions.

The Conversation

Lucy Core was supported by the UCL Research Excellence Scholarship while the case study was conducted and received funding from the Royal National Institute of the Deaf while preparing this article.

ref. The man who fell in love with the sound of Spitfires – here’s what this unusual symptom can teach us about dementia – https://theconversation.com/the-man-who-fell-in-love-with-the-sound-of-spitfires-heres-what-this-unusual-symptom-can-teach-us-about-dementia-275107

What makes the ideal Airbnb host? We studied guest experiences to find out

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Nektarios Tzempelikos, Professor of Marketing and Deputy Director of the Research Centre for Intelligent Supply Chains, School of Management, Anglia Ruskin University

Nadia Snopek/Shutterstock

A selling point of hotels has traditionally been the standardised service offered by their trained staff. In contrast, “peer-to-peer” accommodation – of which Airbnb is the most popular host platform – is usually run more informally by individual hosts who have little if any formal hospitality training.

What they offer instead is personal interaction, a sense of authenticity, and local knowledge about the area. And our multi-year research shows that this is often rated much more highly by visiting guests.

Our study (with colleagues), recently published in the International Journal of Hospitality Management, investigates the key reasons international guests staying all over India – one of the world’s fastest growing tourist markets – give their Airbnb accommodation a five-star review, or rather less.

One clear pattern was how guests talked about their relationship with hosts. Many appreciated meeting friendly, helpful hosts – but only when contact felt optional. Our survey and interview findings showed around one-third of guests said they were uncomfortable when communication felt too frequent or too personal.

This points to an important tension in Airbnb stays. Guests often want reassurance without intrusion. A takeaway recommendation was the importance of short, polite messages that reassure guests help is available if needed – but not excessive contact. Feeling welcome is less about ongoing interaction and more about responsiveness, clarity and respect for boundaries.

Our study began in 2019 by developing a new way of analysing thousands of Airbnb guest reviews in India to understand the key indicators of satisfaction (and dissatisfaction). After being interrupted by COVID, we followed this up with surveys and in-depth interviews in the same country to establish the priorities guests give to different aspects of how they were hosted.

Some guests also talked about experiences that stood out for the wrong reasons. These were not “horror stories”, but moments where boundaries felt unclear – such as hosts dropping by unexpectedly, asking too many personal questions, or being slow to respond when something went wrong.

An unusual guest experience in India. Video: Airbnb (2019)

Expectations also played a big role in how stays were judged. Guests who felt well-informed before arrival – about the space, the rules and the neighbourhood – tended to be more relaxed and forgiving of small issues. By contrast, even minor surprises could negatively affect how the entire experience was remembered.

These patterns became stronger after COVID. Guests became more sensitive to cleanliness, safety and communication, and many preferred less face-to-face contact than before.

With all this in mind, here are five practical ways our research suggests hosts can increase their prospects of a five-star rating – and a return stay.

1. Tell guests what to expect – truthfully

Frustrations sometimes start building before they have even arrived. Many guests, particularly from other countries, rely on clear, practical information to feel confident about their choice.

Hosts should make sure their listing answers all common questions upfront and truthfully: how check-in works, what the neighbourhood is like, whether the space suits families or remote work, and what amenities are (and are not!) available.

Small gaps between what guests expect and what they find can shape how they judge their entire stay. Guests who feel well informed are less likely to focus on minor issues.

2. Comfort counts, not just appearance

Good photos matter, but guests judge accommodation on how it feels to actually stay there. We found features such as comfortable furniture, a calm atmosphere and a sense of privacy strongly influence how enjoyable a stay feels.

Hosts do not need to make expensive upgrades. But paying attention to lighting, noise, clutter and basic comfort is non-negotiable.

3. Be responsive, but don’t overdo it

Guests value personal interaction in different ways, but they consistently appreciate hosts who are reliable and easy to reach. Yet feeling welcome does not require constant communication.

Simple actions matter: replying promptly to messages, giving clear instructions, and dealing calmly with problems when they arise. We found this sense of feeling “looked after” is closely linked to whether guests want to return.

4. Anticipate small issues before they snowball

It’s notable how often small problems can snowball during a stay. Issues such as non-working equipment are usually forgotten if clearly explained and calmly dealt with. But slow responses to concerns – or worse, displays of frustration or anger from hosts – can quickly affect how a stay is judged.

Anticipating common issues and dealing with them early can prevent small problems from overshadowing the guest experience. Clear house information, well-maintained facilities and simple backup plans all help.

5. Focus on return visits, not ratings

Positive reviews matter, but they do not tell the whole story. In our research, the most important indicator of guest satisfaction was whether they said they wanted to return.

While enjoyment and value are closely linked with recommendations, feeling comfortable and welcome plays a stronger role in repeat bookings. Creating a space that is easy to use, pleasant to stay in and welcoming will encourage guests to come back, even in a crowded market.

Small, thoughtful choices in these areas shape how guests remember their visit. Hosts who want long-term success should think beyond ratings and consider whether guests will genuinely want to return.

The Conversation

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.

ref. What makes the ideal Airbnb host? We studied guest experiences to find out – https://theconversation.com/what-makes-the-ideal-airbnb-host-we-studied-guest-experiences-to-find-out-276844

What weight loss jabs teach us about how appetite works

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Lewis Mattin, Senior Lecturer, Life Sciences, University of Westminster

New Africa/Shutterstock

Hunger is often discussed as a matter of willpower. In appetite research, it looks very different. Physiologists who study eating behaviour and metabolism see hunger as a fluctuating biological signal shaped by hormones, digestion, activity and environment. The recent surge of interest in GLP-1 drugs has brought one part of this system into public view.

GLP-1, or glucagon-like peptide-1, is a hormone produced naturally in the gut and plays a key role in controlling blood sugar, appetite and digestion. After eating, it helps signal fullness and slows the rate at which food leaves the stomach, shaping how quickly nutrients enter the bloodstream and how much energy the body takes in.

Appetite regulation begins in the gut rather than the brain alone. Signals from digestion, microbes and nutrient absorption activate hormonal pathways that travel to the brain through the bloodstream and nervous system.

Hunger is shaped by several of these signals. Ghrelin, released from the stomach, stimulates appetite. After food is eaten, levels of GLP-1 typically rise, helping signal satiety. Research shows appetite is closely linked to this increase in GLP-1 and how it communicates with brain regions involved in regulating eating.

Drugs such as Ozempic, Wegovy and Mounjaro are known as GLP-1 receptor agonists. They were originally developed for diabetes treatment and have been used to treat Type 2 diabetes since 2025. More recently, they have been prescribed for obesity management.

These medications activate the same biological pathways as natural GLP-1, but for much longer. Under normal conditions, GLP-1 rises for a relatively short period after eating, typically around two hours. This post-meal phase is when appetite is naturally suppressed and digestion slows. GLP-1 medications extend that state. Rather than simply blocking hunger, they maintain a physiological signal associated with having recently eaten.

This helps explain their impact. By reducing appetite and slowing gastric emptying, they can support sustained weight loss. But they also highlight how dynamic appetite is.

Research in exercise and nutrition shows that hunger does not increase in a simple, linear way with energy expenditure. Intense physical activity can temporarily suppress appetite through shifts in gut hormones, including GLP-1, even as energy needs rise.

Appetite often returns later as the body re-balances. In some cases, particularly after sessions such as high intensity intermittent training (HIIT), cravings for food can increase substantially.

Typically, weight loss of up to 5 to 8% can be achieved with a GLP-1 receptor agonist, although outcomes vary and tend to occur gradually over months. Medical advice should always be sought before starting treatment, and nutritional strategies should be discussed with a dietician or qualified nutritionist.

The rise of these medications has also reshaped how obesity is understood. For decades, weight was often framed primarily in terms of personal responsibility. GLP-1 therapies instead highlight the biological regulation of appetite and metabolism. They shift attention toward physiology and the gut-brain axis, rather than willpower alone, and have influenced public conversations about stigma, treatment access and the medicalisation of weight management.

Yet appetite reduction does not remove the body’s need for nutrients and fluids. When food intake falls, the challenge becomes maintaining nutritional balance. Hydration remains essential, as the body can lose around 2 to 3 litres of fluid each day through urine, sweat, breathing and bowel movements. Replacing this fluid supports circulation, temperature regulation and organ function. Hydration therefore remains fundamental even when appetite is reduced.




Read more:
Weight loss drugs make it harder to get the nutrients you need – here’s what to do about it


Electrolytes also play a central role in nerve activity, muscle contraction and fluid balance. These charged minerals, including sodium, potassium, chloride, magnesium and calcium, are present in everyday foods and drinks, but reduced intake can lower overall levels.

Maintaining muscle mass is another consideration. When calorie intake drops substantially, the body may begin to break down muscle tissue for energy. Preserving muscle supports metabolic health and physical function. Protein intake of around 1.2 g per kg of body weight per day is often recommended, with sources including eggs, dairy, legumes, tofu and lean meats.

Changes in eating patterns can also affect digestion. Reduced food intake increases the likelihood of constipation, particularly if fibre consumption falls. Foods that are high in fibre help maintain bowel health by supporting regular movement and gut function.

Like most medications, GLP-1 drugs can have side effects. These may include nausea, abdominal discomfort, fatigue, bloating, constipation or diarrhoea. In some cases, there may be muscle loss and gallbladder problems. Ongoing monitoring is therefore important.

Another key question is what happens when treatment stops. Research suggests weight regain is common once medication is discontinued. When the prolonged satiety signal is removed, appetite-regulating hormones return to previous patterns. The biological drive to regain lost weight can re-emerge, highlighting that these drugs modify appetite while they are taken but do not permanently reset the systems that regulate it.

The wider implications extend beyond individual treatment. Appetite is influenced by multiple factors, including gut hormones, microbiome activity, physical activity, circadian rhythms and metabolic health. GLP-1 therapies interact with this wider system rather than replacing it. They also raise questions about long-term use, access and how food environments might respond to widespread appetite suppression.

From a physiological perspective, the significance of GLP-1 medications lies not only in their clinical effects but in what they reveal. Hunger is not a fixed trait. It is a fluctuating signal shaped by gut-derived hormones, digestion, activity and environment. These drugs amplify one part of that system by extending the post-meal state, but they do not replace the broader mechanisms that govern appetite, nutrition and metabolism.

Weight management therefore remains embedded in a wider biological and social context. Hormones matter, but so do daily routines, physical activity, food availability and long-term health patterns. GLP-1 therapies highlight how strongly biology shapes hunger, while also underscoring how complex and interconnected appetite regulation really is.

The Conversation

Lewis Mattin is affiliated with The Physiological Society, The Society for Endocrinology, UKRI funded Ageing and Nutrient Sensing Network, BBSRC UK GIBA network & SENr-Academic Associate Registration

ref. What weight loss jabs teach us about how appetite works – https://theconversation.com/what-weight-loss-jabs-teach-us-about-how-appetite-works-276105

Freeing poached wildlife ‘safely’ is a dangerous myth – new study

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Anna Nekaris, Professor of Ecology, Conservation and Environment, Anglia Ruskin University

The moment a cage door is opened and an animal released is often seen as the ultimate good news. When a captive wild animal is freed, the media often applauds, public support swells and donations to welfare charities surge.

But as a new study by myself and colleagues reveals, there is a dark side to returning animals to the wild.

Illegal trafficking in wildlife yields billions of dollars per year, making it one of the highest grossing illegal trades. It poses a serious risk to conservation, so it’s no wonder the confiscation of an illegally trafficked animal feels like a win.

One of the problems is that for many species, especially smaller species perceived as less charismatic, or less ecologically important, little is known what happens after the animal is set “free”.

In our new study published in Global Ecology and Conservation, my colleagues and I tracked nine individual animals of the endangered Bengal slow loris, a small primate with large round brown eyes found in tropical forests throughout southern Asia. We showed that the wild is not necessarily freedom. Seven of the nine animals died within weeks of release, most killed by resident slow lorises.

Ten species of the slow loris can be found from India to the Philippines. All are threatened by trade in various guises – including as pets and tourist photo props, traditional “medicines” and meat, and even black magic.

Despite being legally protected in all the countries where they live, trade in these nocturnal primates persists locally and internationally. It is fuelled in part by viral social media videos of smuggled lorises kept as pets. With their large eyes and teddy bear-like faces, they are seen as an adorable companion, with online videos inciting viewers to “want one”. They certainly do not make good pets – from scent marking every space with foul-smelling urine, to a bite that can kill a human.

Indeed, they are the only venomous primate, with sharp teeth used to inject venom into other lorises as a means of territorial defence. Often in trade these teeth are ripped out or clipped to make them “suitable pets”.

Despite the evolutionary uniqueness of the slow loris, only a handful of studies have been conducted in the wild. This creates a disconnect.

Welfare agencies and government agents are often pressured to release these primates to the wild. But a lack of funding, manpower and knowledge of their behaviour means most reintroductions of loris species do not follow international guidelines. For example, agencies must know which species they are releasing; slow loris species may look very similar but they are genetically and behaviourally unique. It’s almost impossible for non-experts to tell them apart.

Freedom or death trap?

In our study, the Bangladesh Forest Department allowed us to follow the fate of nine released Bengal slow lorises. The site, Lawachara National Park in the country’s northeast, has been used for relocating lorises for decades. With a high density of slow lorises in the area, conservationists recommend against more releases. A variety of sociopolitical and logistic factors, however, means that releases continue. For example, the fact that these releases are seen as good news stories.

Within ten days of release, three lorises died, with four others surviving only a few weeks more. For four of seven whose bodies could be examined, all died of fatal venomous bite wounds from resident lorises.

After eight months of study, the two survivors had not settled into a permanent area. Wild slow loris typically achieve this within a few months of dispersal, settling with a mate to raise families with for at least 12 years.

This suggests that even if an animal survives “getting back to the wild”, they may still struggle to find a permanent home. A species with extremely territorial behaviour, these “floating” individuals are often killed by resident slow lorises.

In Bangladesh, slow lorises are often “rescued” from agricultural areas, where they can live happily if the right food plants persist, because locals are not familiar with nocturnal animals and think they have “wandered in”. Thus, the forest that people perceive as a good place for them is alien, and one in which ultimately, returned lorises may never be able to find a home.

Other studies also have found high death rates or lack of “settling” of released slow lorises. Projects in Vietnam and Java have yielded similar results, including reintroduced lorises killing the resident animals, as well as animals starving to death in the new habitats.

Poor release practices have become so common that the IUCN Red List includes releases of slow lorises as one of the threats to their survival. Despite this increasing evidence, incidences of up to 65 lorises released at a single time are sometimes reported as good news.

Slow lorises are just one of many lesser-known mammals frequently traded and released. These animals are easy to pick up and hold because their strategy is sometimes to curl into a silent ball of terror, instead of biting. They may even be bought by tourists at wildlife markets and placed somewhere where the purchaser perceives to be wild.

Other examples include civets, otters and various monkeys. Indeed, in the case of Brazil’s marmosets, monkeys released by pet owners threaten to out-compete native species or mate with them, leading to hyrid offspring.

Close up of racoon like animal in cage
Civets are often sold in wildlife markets.
bastera rusdi/Shutterstock

This scenario is not exclusive to the tropics. In the UK, well meaning people often move hedgehogs and other animals long distances away from where they found them. However hedgehogs are homebodies who need to stay close to their favourite haunts, where they know where to find shelter and food.

As appealing as it is to put animals back to the wild, for many species, their only hope may truly be a lifetime in captivity. Even when these animals survive, their ecological role is lost.

The Conversation

Anna Nekaris receives funding from Plumploris e.V.

ref. Freeing poached wildlife ‘safely’ is a dangerous myth – new study – https://theconversation.com/freeing-poached-wildlife-safely-is-a-dangerous-myth-new-study-275586

Voici Epiaceratherium itjilik, le rhinocéros qui a vécu dans l’Arctique

Source: The Conversation – in French – By Danielle Fraser, Head & Research scientist, Palaeobiology, Canadian Museum of Nature & Adjunct Research Professor, Department of Biology, Carleton University

Les paléontologues du Musée canadien de la nature ont récemment étudié le fossile d’un rhinocéros. Ce qui est fascinant, c’est que ses restes ont été découverts sur l’île Devon, dans l’Arctique canadien.

Les mammifères, qui peuplent aujourd’hui presque tous les coins de la Terre, sont arrivés en Asie, en Europe et en Amérique du Nord par trois voies : le détroit de Béring et deux voies dans l’Atlantique Nord.

La plus connue d’entre elles, le pont continental de Béring, a permis le passage des premiers humains vers l’Amérique du Nord, il y a environ 20 000 ans, et a façonné la génétique des populations d’animaux, comme les ours, les lions et les chevaux.

Les deux autres routes, moins connues, traversaient l’Atlantique Nord : l’une partait de la péninsule scandinave vers le Svalbard et le Groenland, et l’autre de l’Écosse vers l’Islande, puis le Groenland et l’Arctique canadien.

Généralement, on considère que les animaux terrestres n’ont pas pu traverser l’Atlantique Nord durant l’Éocène inférieur, il y a environ 50 millions d’années, à une époque où le climat terrestre était plus chaud.

Les restes du rhinocéros arctique fournissent toutefois des preuves indiquant que les mammifères terrestres ont pu traverser l’Atlantique Nord en empruntant des ponts terrestres gelés bien plus récemment que l’Éocène inférieur.

Un rhinocéros dans l’Arctique

Danielle Fraser présente les recherches de son équipe sur le rhinocéros arctique. (Musée canadien de la nature).

Cette nouvelle espèce de rhinocéros a été découverte à partir d’un spécimen presque complet trouvé au site de Haughton, sur l’île Devon, au Nunavut. Il s’agit de sédiments lacustres formés dans un cratère d’impact d’astéroïde qui remonterait au début du Miocène, il y a environ 23 millions d’années.

Les sédiments du cratère Haughton ont permis de préserver des plantes, des mammifères et des oiseaux. La plupart des ossements du rhinocéros ont été récoltés dans les années 1980 par la paléontologue Mary Dawson et son équipe, puis d’autres éléments ont été prélevés par Natalia Rybczynski, Marisa Gilbert et leur équipe au cours des années 2010.

Le rhinocéros n’avait pas de corne, ce qui est courant chez les espèces de rhinocéros disparues. Il se distingue toutefois par des caractéristiques propres à des espèces beaucoup plus anciennes, comme des dents semblables à celles d’espèces datant de plusieurs millions d’années. Il présente également un cinquième orteil sur la patte avant, ce qui est rare chez les rhinocéros.

Une comparaison anatomique et une analyse évolutive suggèrent que le spécimen appartient à un genre existant, Epiaceratherium, que l’on a trouvé uniquement en Europe et en Asie occidentale. Pour nommer la nouvelle espèce, l’équipe a consulté Jarloo Kiguktak, un aîné d’Aujuittuq (Grise Fiord), la communauté autochtone la plus proche du cratère Haughton. Ensemble, ils l’ont baptisée Epiaceratherium itjilik. Itjilik, qui signifie « gel » ou « givré » en inuktitut, a été choisi en hommage à l’environnement arctique où le spécimen a été découvert.

Le plus surprenant est que l’analyse évolutive de l’équipe a montré qu’E. itjilik ressemble le plus à l’espèce européenne d’Epiaceratherium. Cela suggère que ses ancêtres auraient traversé l’Atlantique Nord pour passer de l’Europe à l’Amérique du Nord vers la fin de l’Éocène, il y a entre 38 et 33 millions d’années.

Des analyses biogéographiques ont par ailleurs révélé un nombre étonnamment élevé de traversées de l’Atlantique Nord par des rhinocéros, directement entre l’Europe et l’Amérique du Nord, dont certaines remontent à environ 20 millions d’années. Alors que la découverte d’une traversée aussi récente de l’Atlantique Nord était souvent considérée comme improbable, de nouvelles preuves géologiques proposent une toute autre histoire.

Comment les rhinocéros sont-ils arrivés dans l’Arctique ?

Aujourd’hui, plusieurs étendues d’eau larges et profondes empêchent les animaux terrestres de passer de l’Europe à l’Amérique du Nord. Les îles Féroé, l’Islande et le Groenland sont séparés par le chenal du banc des Féroé, le chenal Féroé-Shetland et le détroit du Danemark. Entre la péninsule scandinave, le Svalbard et le Groenland, on trouve la mer de Barents et le détroit de Fram. Les animaux terrestres auraient pu traverser au moins l’une de ces zones jusqu’au début de l’Éocène, il y a environ 50 millions d’années.

Cependant, des études récentes dressent un tableau plus complexe des changements géologiques dans cette région. Les estimations de la date de formation des différents chenaux qui séparent aujourd’hui les masses terrestres présentent une grande variabilité.

Une modélisation mathématique suggère qu’il y a encore 2,7 millions d’années, une région montagneuse aurait relié le Svalbard à l’Europe du Nord. De nouvelles données indiquent également que le détroit de Fram était étroit et peu profond jusqu’au début du Miocène, il y a environ 23 millions d’années. Le chenal Féroé-Shetland s’est probablement ouvert il y a entre 50 et 34 millions d’années, tandis que le chenal Féroé-Islande [JG1]et le détroit du Danemark auraient été submergés plus tard, il y a entre 34 et 10 millions d’années.

Cela suggère que les rhinocéros auraient pu marcher sur la terre ferme pendant au moins une partie de leur traversée de l’Atlantique Nord. Ils ont peut-être nagé sur de courtes distances entre les masses continentales, mais l’équipe a émis l’hypothèse que la glace marine saisonnière aurait pu faciliter leur déplacement.

La glace saisonnière

Il y a plus de 47 millions d’années, l’océan Arctique et les régions environnantes étaient libres de glace toute l’année. Des échantillons prélevés par carottage dans cette région (boue, sable et matière organique) contiennent des traces de débris transportés par la glace au cours de l’Éocène moyen, il y a entre 47 et 38 millions d’années, ce qui indique la présence de glace saisonnière.

Une autre carotte océanique, prélevée entre le Groenland et le Svalbard, recèle des débris transportés par la glace provenant de toute la région arctique, et datant de 48 à 26 millions d’années. Il apparaît donc que les animaux terrestres auraient pu traverser l’Atlantique Nord en empruntant des routes formées sur la terre ferme et sur la glace saisonnière.

Les fossiles de vertébrés provenant des îles qui composaient autrefois les ponts terrestres de l’Atlantique Nord sont extrêmement rares. Une grande partie de ces ponts étant aujourd’hui submergée, les preuves directes de la façon dont les animaux se sont répandus à travers l’Atlantique Nord pourraient avoir disparu.

Les études biogéographiques, comme celle menée par l’équipe du Musée canadien de la nature, montrent à quel point les découvertes arctiques bouleversent nos connaissances sur l’évolution des mammifères. Elles nous aident à mieux comprendre comment les animaux se sont déplacés sur notre planète.

La Conversation Canada

Danielle Fraser a reçu un financement du Conseil de recherches en sciences naturelles et en génie du Canada (CRSNG RGPIN-2018-05305). Natalia Rybczynski, coauteure de l’étude mentionnée dans cet article, a reçu un financement de la Fondation W. Garfield Weston. Mary Dawson, coauteure de l’étude, a reçu un financement de National Geographic pour ses travaux sur le terrain.

ref. Voici Epiaceratherium itjilik, le rhinocéros qui a vécu dans l’Arctique – https://theconversation.com/voici-epiaceratherium-itjilik-le-rhinoceros-qui-a-vecu-dans-larctique-274913

Contre le tabagisme, l’alcoolisme, l’insécurité routière… le marketing social en santé est plus efficace que la communication

Source: The Conversation – France in French (3) – By Karine Gallopel-Morvan, professeur santé publique, École des hautes études en santé publique (EHESP)

Le succès de campagnes de marketing social, comme le « Mois sans tabac », dont l’efficacité a été évaluée scientifiquement, montre comment cette stratégie peut se révéler payante pour déclencher des changements de comportements bénéfiques pour la santé. La restructuration annoncée de Santé publique France, qui met en œuvre les campagnes de prévention en santé, pourrait conduire à un recentrage vers la communication, au détriment du marketing social qui a pourtant fait ses preuves.


De nombreux pays s’appuient sur la démarche du marketing social pour élaborer des campagnes de prévention dont le but est de changer les comportements de santé. En France, cette mission est principalement assurée par Santé publique France, l’agence nationale de santé publique, dont un des rôles est d’« améliorer et protéger la santé des populations ».

Santé publique France intervient dans des domaines aussi variés que les déterminants de santé (tabac, alcool, drogues, nutrition, environnement, etc.), les maladies infectieuses (Covid-19, grippe…), la santé sexuelle, la santé mentale, les pathologies chroniques comme les cancers, le diabète, etc. L’agence a pleinement intégré le marketing social dès sa création, en 2016.

A l’époque, ce positionnement avait suscité des débats, notamment quant à sa valeur ajoutée par rapport aux campagnes de communication « classiques » qui avaient été mobilisées par le passé. Ce choix stratégique a pourtant permis à Santé publique France de développer des interventions de prévention plus efficaces pour déclencher des changements de comportement.

Depuis, d’autres acteurs, associatifs et publics, ont recours au marketing social. Par exemple, depuis 2020, le « Défi de janvier » (Dry January) vise à questionner individuellement et collectivement notre rapport à l’alcool et changer nos habitudes de consommation pour inciter à un changement de comportement vis-à-vis de ce produit. Cette initiative, qui connaît un succès croissant, est portée par un collectif d’associations. Elle a lieu tous les ans sans l’appui des pouvoirs publics.

Le marketing social : des techniques de marketing commercial appliquées à la santé

L’association des deux termes, « marketing » et « social », est née en 1971. Le marketing social consiste ainsi à transposer certaines techniques du marketing commercial à des programmes sociaux et de santé, dans l’objectif d’en améliorer l’efficacité en matière de changement de comportements.

Son principe fondamental repose sur une connaissance approfondie des publics cibles, afin d’adapter les interventions à leurs caractéristiques, leurs besoins et leurs contraintes. Cette compréhension s’appuie à la fois sur des enquêtes et les apports de la littérature scientifique, afin d’identifier les déterminants des comportements de santé et leurs leviers de modification.

Le marketing social prend également en compte l’environnement dans lequel s’inscrit l’intervention, notamment les facteurs concurrents du comportement promu, comme le marketing des industries du tabac, de l’alcool ou de l’alimentation ultratransformée. Ces pratiques commerciales “concourrentes” à la santé sont connues sous le terme de « déterminants commerciaux de la santé ». Le but sera ici de bloquer la publicité de ces firmes (avec des régulations et interdictions), ou d’apposer des avertissements sanitaires sur les publicités et packagings afin de contrer les messages marketing attractifs.

Le marketing social repose par ailleurs sur une segmentation des populations, donnant lieu à des programmes différenciés selon les spécificités des individus : âge, genre, environnement social, ancrage communautaire, niveau de littératie (niveaux de lecture, d’écriture et de compréhension des textes), etc.

« Mois sans tabac »,« Défi de janvier » et autres marques sociales

Si la campagne de marketing social est amenée à durer, il est opportun qu’elle s’appuie sur une marque qui aide à la mémoriser, à se l’approprier et à l’apprécier : « Mois sans tabac », le « Défi de janvier », ou encore Sam de la Sécurité routière sont des marques sociales connues de toutes et tous.

Sam, le conducteur engagé est une marque sociale de la Sécurité routière (Securite-routiere.gouv.fr).

Chaque programme est ensuite décliné opérationnellement pour chaque cible, autour d’objectifs de changement de comportement, et mis en œuvre selon le « modèle des 5 c » :

  • le comportement à adopter (par exemple, arrêter de fumer) ;

  • des aides et solutions proposées pour réduire les coûts et freins à l’adoption de ce comportement (applications, préservatifs gratuits ou à faible coût…) ;

  • une capacité d’accès aisée aux aides et comportements (rendez-vous rapide pour un dépistage, éthylotests disponibles dans les bars…) ;

  • une communication créative qui mobilise des canaux variés (médias, réseaux sociaux, etc.) ;

  • des collaborations avec des acteurs proches des publics bénéficiaires (associations, éducateurs, professionnels de santé) pour assurer la diffusion de l’intervention.

Enfin, toute campagne de marketing social s’inscrit dans une logique d’évaluation, afin de vérifier que les objectifs souhaités ont bien été atteints au regard des moyens mobilisés (évaluations de processus, d’impact et médicoéconomiques).

Marketing social et communication : une différence fondamentale

Ainsi, si la communication est nécessaire pour dérouler une campagne de marketing social (un des 5C), elle n’est pas suffisante. C’est la conclusion de nombreuses études ayant analysé l’efficacité des interventions élaborées selon les principes du marketing social et qui se déroulaient dans des contextes et milieux variés (lutte contre le tabagisme, l’alcoolisme ou les drogues illicites ; promotion de l’activité physique et de la nutrition à l’école, en entreprise, etc.) puis sur des cibles différentes (population défavorisée, adolescents, professionnels de santé, grand public, etc.).

Les chercheurs sont arrivés à la conclusion suivante : si les campagnes de communication peuvent agir sur les connaissances, les représentations, les normes, ou encore si elles informent sur l’existence d’un service, elles ne déclenchent pas, à elles seules, des changements de comportement si les autres composantes du marketing social n’y sont pas associées.

L’exemple emblématique du « Mois sans tabac »

L’exemple de la campagne annuelle « Mois sans tabac » lancée en 2016 par Santé publique France et adaptée de la campagne britannique Stoptober est illustratif de l’intérêt du marketing social. Cette intervention inédite en France en a intégré tous les ingrédients pour inviter les fumeurs à faire une tentative d’arrêt du tabac pendant 30 jours, en novembre, et optimiser ainsi leurs chances d’arrêter durablement.

Elle s’est basée sur les modèles théoriques de changement de comportements (théorie de la contagion), une connaissance des parties prenantes et de la cible visée, une prise en compte de la « concurrence » (l’industrie du tabac), une segmentation réfléchie (campagne ciblant les fumeurs quotidiens souhaitant arrêter de fumer, âgés de 18 à 64 ans et les plus vulnérables).

De plus, cette campagne s’appuie sur une proposition comportementale atteignable (arrêter de fumer pendant un « mois »), une marque chaleureuse et conviviale ainsi que des aides et services accessibles facilement et gratuitement ou à un prix très faible (site Internet, coaching personnalisé, numéro de téléphone, kit pour arrêter…).

L’accent est mis sur les bénéfices de l’arrêt. Puis, des collaborateurs et partenaires assurent la diffusion de la campagne et de ses services vers les lieux de vie des fumeurs (associations, pharmacies, entreprises, etc.). Enfin, une campagne de communication est diffusée dans les médias et sur les réseaux sociaux.

Cette combinaison s’est révélée bénéfique puisque les évaluations quasi continues de la campagne « Mois sans tabac » ont montré son efficacité pour inciter les Français à arrêter de fumer, bien plus que les précédentes campagnes qui se basaient essentiellement sur la communication.

« Mois sans tabac » a ainsi joué un rôle dans l’augmentation des tentatives d’arrêt du tabac (les éditions 2018 et 2019 auraient chacune généré environ 50 0000 tentatives), ainsi que sur l’arrêt du tabac à plus long terme. De plus, l’OCDE a estimé que si elle était maintenue sur la période 2023-2050, cette campagne permettrait d’économiser en moyenne 7 euros par an en dépenses de santé pour 1 euro investi.

Renoncer au marketing social : un retour en arrière pour la santé publique

Dix ans après sa création, la restructuration de Santé publique France annoncée par le gouvernement en janvier 2026 pourrait conduire à un abandon du marketing social au profit d’un « recentrage stratégique » sur la communication, qui serait désormais pilotée par le ministère de la santé et l’Assurance-maladie. Les pouvoirs publics justifient cette évolution par la volonté d’« offrir aux citoyens des messages plus clairs » et « une meilleure efficacité ».

Penser que le recentrage sur la communication et l’abandon du marketing social pourrait être aussi efficace et efficient n’est pas fondé, ni sur le plan scientifique, ni sur le plan empirique. Il faut alors se questionner les réels motifs qui poussent à cette décision : coupe budgétaire, volonté de reprise en main du contenu des messages au détriment des données probantes et des évaluations de campagnes, influence des lobbys ?

L’avenir nous le dira, mais cette évolution pourrait s’opérer au détriment de l’efficacité des politiques de prévention et, in fine, de la santé des Français.

The Conversation

Karine Gallopel-Morvan a reçu des financements de l’INCa, l’IRESP, JApreventNCDs, le Fonds de lutte contre les addictions, la Ligue contre le cancer, Ramsay fondation, l’ARS Bretagne

Ancien Directeur général de Santé publique France 2016-2019

Sylvain Gautier est vice-président de la Société Française de Santé Publique (SFSP) et membre du Comité national de lutte contre le tabagisme (CNCT). Il est président du Conseil national professionnel de santé publique (CNP-SP) et membre du Collège universitaire des enseignants de santé publique (CUESP).

ref. Contre le tabagisme, l’alcoolisme, l’insécurité routière… le marketing social en santé est plus efficace que la communication – https://theconversation.com/contre-le-tabagisme-lalcoolisme-linsecurite-routiere-le-marketing-social-en-sante-est-plus-efficace-que-la-communication-276408

What Hannah Spencer’s historic win means for the Green party’s future

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Louise Thompson, Senior Lecturer in Politics, University of Manchester

Thursday’s byelection in Gorton and Denton has been huge for the Green party of England and Wales, with Hannah Spencer pushing Reform’s Matt Goodwin into second place, and Labour into third. Having one extra MP in parliament may not seem like a big milestone, but this byelection win is record-breaking for the Greens. I believe it shows their potential to be a credible alternative to Labour.

The Greens have never won a byelection before. They polled less than 7% of the vote (coming in fourth place) in the Runcorn and Helsby byelection in May 2025. And, unlike Reform UK in that byelection, the Greens didn’t just edge this victory – they took nearly 41% of the vote. That’s a whopping 28-point increase on their performance in the same constituency at the 2024 general election.




Read more:
Victory in Gorton and Denton is historic for the Greens – and cataclysmic for Britain’s two-party politics


The victory has given party leader Zack Polanski the confidence that voters now see the Greens as a viable alternative to Labour, even in former Labour strongholds. He announced to supporters, “this is what replacing Labour looks like”.

Over the past few years the Greens have really professionalised their party. We saw the impact of this in the 2024 general election, when they quadrupled their number of MPs and finished second in 40 constituencies.

Under Polanski’s leadership, they’ve developed a more populist edge, focusing on issues such as the cost of living and moving away from being “just” a climate party. They’ve also had a more visible media presence and started to take their communication strategy more seriously.

Spencer’s win increases the size of the Green parliamentary group to five MPs. In the context of a 650-member House of Commons, this doesn’t seem like much.

The Greens certainly aren’t large enough to swing any votes, or cause the government many problems. And although they now have more MPs than ever before, they are still only the sixth-largest party group in the Commons. There are still over twice as many independent MPs as there are Greens.

The win will, however, give the Greens some breathing space. It’s a tough job being a small party in the Commons, and the existing group of four Green MPs have shared a heavy burden of responsibilities in the chamber since their arrival in 2024. As Spencer finds her feet, she will be able to take on some of these policy portfolio responsibilities.

Having a bigger parliamentary team doesn’t just alleviate some of the pressure to be in the chamber all the time. It also allows the party to be more strategic, and to insert Green voices into more conversations than before.

This could be through places on committees scrutinising legislation, trying to catch the speaker’s eye during high-profile government statements and question times, or holding backbench debates on more local issues. There is no place for passengers in any small party, so we can expect to see Spencer playing a very visible role for the rest of the parliament.

The battle ahead

When the next general election draws closer, the Greens may be grateful of this bigger team. They will want to capitalise on their success in Manchester and continue to professionalise their operations as a national party.

They are also likely to face more hostility at Westminster. Labour is now fighting a war on two fronts. The party’s embarrassing third-place result in Gorton and Denton – which Keir Starmer called “very disappointing” – will have hammered this home. We can expect to see more attacks on the Greens, including in the Commons chamber.

Until now, the prime minister has focused much more consistent attention on discrediting Reform. Now, he needs to worry much more about Polanski and the Greens, and will be directing some focus to winning back Labour voters who see the Greens as the stronger party of the left.

We had a glimpse of this in January, when North Herefordshire’s Ellie Chowns used her occasional opportunity to question the prime minister to ask about water pollution. Starmer turned it into a partisan attack on the unrelated topic of Polanski’s comments about Nato.

While the Reform UK leader, Nigel Farage, regularly berates Starmer in the Commons, the Greens rarely take such an overtly partisan approach. Reform MPs tend to participate more frequently in high-profile parliamentary occasions, where they can question the government. The Greens tend to have a more balanced, policy-focused approach, regularly popping up on committees to scrutinise legislation.

This is helped by Polanski’s position as a leader who sits outside the Commons (a member of the London Assembly). He can delegate the scrutiny of government policy to Chowns and her colleagues, while he takes broader comments about the government’s performance directly to the press.

This balance will be important as the Greens think about the upcoming local elections. Spencer told the press today that the party can now “win anywhere”, and Polanski predicted a “tidal wave” of Green MPs at the next election.

To do this, they need to maintain the momentum they’ve created this week. This means keeping a tight hold of the former Labour voters who chose them instead in Gorton and Denton.

It will be difficult for the party to carry out the same intensive campaign strategy on a more national level, but this sort of intensity is key to ensuring that the left vote goes to the Greens rather than to the other alternatives. Having more party members than ever before will help with this, but they will need to rely on their on-the-ground campaigners to feel secure.

The Conversation

Louise Thompson receives funding from the ESRC ES/R005915/2

ref. What Hannah Spencer’s historic win means for the Green party’s future – https://theconversation.com/what-hannah-spencers-historic-win-means-for-the-green-partys-future-277114

Bad Bunny says reggaeton is Puerto Rican, but it was born in Panama

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Brendan Frizzell, PhD Student in Sociology, USC Dornsife College of Letters, Arts and Sciences

Puerto Rican reggaeton artist Bad Bunny performs the Super Bowl halftime show on Feb. 8, 2026, in Santa Clara, Calif. Bob Kupbens/Icon Sportswire via Getty Images

Bad Bunny likes to remind the world where he and his music come from.

In “EoO,” a song from his 2025 album “DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS,” he raps, “‘Tás escuchando música de Puerto Rico” (“You’re listening to music from Puerto Rico”). Similarly, in the album’s second track, “VOY A LLeVARTE PA PR,” he announces that both he and reggaeton were born in Puerto Rico: “Aquí nací yo y el reggaetón, pa’ que sepa’.”

Puerto Rican artists like Bad Bunny certainly helped popularize the genre. But they didn’t create it.

In my own research of Latin America, I’ve explored how reggaeton comes from the small Central American nation of Panama, where the sound emerged from a swirl of sonic influences that included Spanish conquistadors, Caribbean immigrants and American colonizers.

English and Spanish collide

Understanding reggaeton requires understanding the intermingling of cultures and languages that Panama experienced over a relatively short period of time.

After Panama gained its independence from Spain in 1821, it became part of Gran Colombia, which, at its peak, included modern-day Colombia, Venezuela, Ecuador and Panama.

Throughout the 19th century, Panama experienced population growth and mass industrialization, and waves of Afro Caribbean immigrants arrived in northern Panama in search of economic opportunities. Since they came from former British colonies, many of them spoke English. Meanwhile, the many Afro Panamanians already living in the country, whose descendants had been trafficked as slaves, spoke Spanish.

These linguistic distinctions resulted in two primary groups of Black people in Panama: Spanish-speaking Afro Panamanians and English-speaking West Indians. They worked alongside one another on construction projects, such as the trans-Isthmus railroad, in the mid-19th century. But with their different languages, colonial histories and cultures, they didn’t always get along.

In 1903, Panama separated from Gran Colombia, becoming the independent nation we know today. The U.S. had supported Panama’s independence for strategic reasons: It wanted to build and control the Panama Canal to secure influence over maritime trade and military movement in the Western Hemisphere. While Gran Colombia had rebuffed earlier U.S. overtures, leaders of the newly independent Panama were more receptive to American interests.

Jim Crow is imported to the Canal Zone

Police brutality, exploitation and intra-racial and interracial tensions also served as scaffolding for reggaeton.

During the canal’s construction, the U.S. operated and controlled the Panama Canal Zone, a 553 square-mile (1,432 square-kilometer) parcel of land encompassing the canal. Up to 60,000 people lived there while the canal was being built, with residents segregated by race into “gold roll” and “silver roll” workers. Gold roll workers were usually white. Silver roll workers were Black, and they were tasked with the most dangerous jobs.

The Canal Zone’s white residents were far more likely to have access to health services and have proper sanitation; Afro Panamanian and immigrant workers from Barbados, the Antilles, Jamaica and other Caribbean countries were much more likely to be exposed to – and die from – malaria.

West Indians and Afro Panamanians also experienced police brutality. Black women, in particular, were harassed by white police officers, who often accused them of sex work.

While both West Indians and Afro Panamanians were subjected to segregation and police brutality, the Americans running the Canal Zone tended to treat the English-speaking West Indians better. Meanwhile, children born and raised in the Canal Zone were only taught English in schools, which Afro Panamanians resented.

These tensions led to the rise of “panameñismo,” a movement that sought to preserve and promote Spanish language and culture in Panama. This movement culminated in the passing of restrictive immigration laws targeted at West Indians and stripping second-generation West Indians of their citizenship.

Despite these anti-West Indian policies, many Jamaican, Barbadian and Antillean immigrants who had already built a life in Panama remained in the country even after the canal was completed in 1914.

Black-and-white photo of a huge metal gate with tiny workers either posing or working from the wooden scaffolding.
Laborers work from scaffolding during the construction of the gates of Gatun Locks at the Panama Canal, c. 1914.
Detroit Publishing Company/Library of Congress via Getty Images

Reggae with a Spanish twist

In the 1960s and 1970s, Jamaicans introduced three subgenres of reggaemento, ska and dancehall – to Panama.

The lyrics were in English and Jamaican Patois, an English-based creole language. But it didn’t take long for an offshoot of reggae, “reggae en español,” to emerge. By the end of the 1970s, reggae en español had become popular in Panama and had spread throughout Latin America. Similarly, the nascent genre of hip-hop was gaining steam in the U.S. and eventually made its way to Panama, where an American presence had remained since the completion of the canal. It wasn’t until 1979 that the Canal Zone was abolished, and Panama did not have ownership over the canal until 2000.

It was out of this diverse mix of musical and linguistic influences that reggaeton was born, a genre that features the looping drum pattern – called “dembow riddim” – of Jamaican dancehall, the tropical vibe of reggae and a mixture of rapping and singing. Like reggae and hip-hop, reggaeton lyrics often emphasize Black solidarity and speak out against racial oppression and police violence.

The Panamanian artist Renato is credited with releasing the first reggaeton song, titled, “El D.E.N.I.,” in 1985.

The D.E.N.I. – an acronym for the Departamento Nacional de Investigaciones, or National Department of Investigations – was a tool of repression for Panama’s military dictatorship under Omar Torrijos in the 1970s and later under Manuel Noriega in the 1980s. The secret police force became entangled in drug trafficking and political corruption.

In ‘El D.E.N.I.,’ Renato denounces police brutality and racism.

In the song, Renato assumes the role of a racist police officer, the kind he encountered after relocating from the Canal Zone to Rio Abajo, an impoverished neighborhood in Panama City:

Con mi cara albina, te puedo golpear …

(With my albino face, I can hit you …)

Te voy a enseñar

(I am going to teach you)

Que a la justicia no se puede burlar

(That you cannot make fun of the justice system)

After its release, the track became a protest anthem against Panama’s military government.

While Renato’s popularity was growing in Panama, early Panamanian reggaeton artists and producers like El General were collaborating with Jamaican and American artists in New York City, where the underground dancehall and “hip-hop en español” scene thrived.

Even though El General primarily produced music, one of his tracks, “No Mas Guerra,” channeled the fighting spirit of original reggaeton, calling for Latin American communities to come together to end violence and wars.

A sanitized version of reggaeton goes mainstream

Despite not being responsible for its creation, Puerto Rico is where the genre went mainstream – largely thanks to the popular Puerto Rican artist Daddy Yankee.

Daddy Yankee’s music spread, in part, thanks to American brands like Kellogg’s and Reebok, whose ads featuring his songs were broadcast to American audiences. Few of his tracks contained the social justice themes that characterized early reggaeton.

Meanwhile, Tego Calderon, a Black Puerto Rican reggaeton artist, struggled to find a buyer for his 2003 debut album, “El Abayarde,” after being told he was too ugly for a musical career – a remark rooted in the anti-Blackness that’s pervasive in Puerto Rico.

Calderon’s experience in the industry and as a Black Puerto Rican dictated how he viewed the genre and created his music. Like Calderon, Renato and other Black reggaeton artists have spoken out against racism in reggaeton.

Man with afro wearing sunglasses and a red baseball jersey gestures while rapping into a microphone.
Reggaeton artist Tego Calderon performs at the BMG Music Showcase at Billboard Live in Miami Beach in 2003.
Rodrigo Varela/WireImage via Getty Images

Bringing reggaeton back to its roots

Though he may have the genre’s history slightly wrong, Bad Bunny’s own tracks return to reggaeton’s social justice roots.

Performed during the Super Bowl halftime show by Ricky Martin, Bad Bunny’s “LO QUE LE PASÓ A HAWAii” describes the history of U.S. colonialism in Hawaii and Puerto Rico, pointing out how local communities have been forced out by gentrifiers:

Quieren quitarme el río y también la playa

(They want to take the river and the beach away from me)

Quieren al barrio mío y que tus hijos se vayan

(They want my neighborhood and for your kids to leave)

And while the early-2000s reggaeton popularized by Daddy Yankee, Tego Calderon and Don Omar contained elements of misogyny and homophobia, Bad Bunny’s tracks “Yo Perreo Sola” and “YO VISTO ASÍ” build on feminist reggaeton anthems like Ivy Queen’s “Yo Quiero Bailar.”

Reggaeton was born out of a call for freedom, equality and justice. So I find it fitting that Bad Bunny is creating music that speaks to all types of people from all over the world.

The Conversation

Brendan Frizzell 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.

ref. Bad Bunny says reggaeton is Puerto Rican, but it was born in Panama – https://theconversation.com/bad-bunny-says-reggaeton-is-puerto-rican-but-it-was-born-in-panama-276347

Tiny recording backpacks reveal bats’ surprising hunting strategy

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Leonie Baier, Postdoctoral Fellow in Behavioral Biology, Naturalis Biodiversity Center

A fringe-lipped bat carries a sound-and-movement biologging tag. Leonie Baier, CC BY-SA

Deep into the Panamanian night, the forest hums with sound. Chirping insects form a steady backdrop, rain softly trickles from leaves. Somewhere above a stream, frogs call into the darkness.

But I am not there to see this scene.

It’s already passed. What I hold now is a small, mud-smeared biologger, no larger than a Lego brick. This tag recorded the sounds of the previous night.

Three people wearing headlamps seated on the ground tagging bats at night.
Deep in the jungle of Soberanía National Park, researchers Gregg Cohen, Leonie Baier and Sebastian Mortensen process fringe-lipped bats under red-light headlamps. The nonintrusive light minimizes disturbance as the team weighs, measures and assesses each bat before tagging it.
Imran Razik, Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute, CC BY-SA

The evening before, my team and I had set nets outside the roosts – hollow trees or human-made structures such as tunnels or bunkers – where fringe-lipped bats (Trachops cirrhosus) sleep during the day. Under the faint glow of red headlamps, we weighed each bat we caught on its way out of the roost, checked its age and sex, and carefully glued a tiny tag to the fur between its shoulder blades.

When we released a tagged bat into the darkness, it vanished into the trees, carrying our recorder into the night.

The researchers carefully release the tagged bats into the night. Credit: Eric de Framond

Within a few days, the tags either fell off naturally or I gently removed them from recaptured bats with a quick trim of fur. Each biologger captured five to six hours of continuous sound and movement data – every flight, every attack, every crunch of prey bones between sharp teeth.

For the first time, I could follow a predator through the forest from its own point of view. And what those recordings revealed surprised me: Our fringe-lipped bats don’t simply grab the first thing they detect. Instead, they stalk the forest’s creatures with a patience and precision I hadn’t expected.

Person seated on forest floor wrapped in a mosquito net
Once a bat is recaptured, no chances are taken that it might fly off with its precious load – the biologger holding all the data – still attached. Here, Leonie Baier works under a mosquito net to safely remove the tag before releasing the bat, tag-free.
Eric de Framond, Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute, CC BY-SA

Tiny tags for tiny hunters

I’m a behavioral ecologist, and fringe-lipped bats have been part of my scientific life for years, through my work with animal behavior researcher Rachel Page at the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute in Panama. In our recent study published in the journal Current Biology, we paired decades of field knowledge with miniature biologging technology, allowing us to accompany the bats through the night.

When I plug a tag into my laptop, I follow that journey in sound and movement. Through my headphones, I hear a familiar note. A túngara frog (Engystomops pustulosus) calls; that distinctive “whiiiiine-chuck-chuck” I know so well.

A túngara frog calls, looking for a mate. Credit: Leonie Baier

On my screen, the line charting the bat’s motions stirs: a tremor of movement, then a sharp burst of wingbeats. At the same time, the audio trace fills with a rapid series of ultrasonic echolocation calls, the staccato sound of a hunter steering through darkness. In my ears, a rush of air surges past the tiny microphone, then there’s a splash, more wingbeats, and finally the faint, wet crunching of teeth. A few minutes later, it’s over.

The bat has eaten the frog. I smile; we’ve studied this bat for so many years, the data matches what we have observed in the laboratory. But now, for the first time, I can hear how the hunt unfolds in the wild.

Biologger recording of a bat catching a frog from flight.
Leonie Baier434 KB (download)

I scroll further in my recording.

A new sequence begins, but this time there are no frog calls. No sound to guide a strike. Just a sudden rush of air, a violent rustling, and then the unmistakable sounds of a fight thrash through my headphones: wings flapping, claws scraping, and the harsh cries of a prey animal fighting to survive.

Biologger recording of a bat attacking its protesting prey.
Leonie Baier297 KB (download)

Eventually – silence.

For a long moment, I hear only the sounds of the forest. Then again, the beat of wings. The bat is flying once more. It lands. And then comes that telltale sound again – slow, steady and deliberate. The bat is eating its catch.

Five minutes pass. Ten. Twenty. The chewing stops. The motion trace falls flat. As the night drifts on, nothing moves. The bat has fallen asleep.

Much later, the silence breaks. A quick shudder, a few brief pulses of echolocation: The bat is awake again. But it doesn’t fly off. It starts chewing again. And again. In the end, I count a total of 84 minutes of chewing, spread out across several bouts. Whatever this tiny bat caught, it was nothing like the quick frog meal I’d heard before.

Size of predator usually matches size of prey

In the animal kingdom, size usually dictates strategy.

Large lions, wolves and polar bears chase prey nearly their own size, at enormous costs: hours of stalking, bursts of sprinting and long fasts between meals. Their energy reserves let them weather failure after failure until finally a single successful kill restores the balance.

Small predators live by different rules. The tiny bodies of weasels, shrews and bats burn energy so fast that skipping even one meal can mean starvation. For bats, the demands of powered flight push those costs even higher. So they hunt small, abundant prey: quick, low-cost meals that keep the metabolic fire burning.

On average, the bats we tracked made around seven attacks per night and succeeded roughly half the time. Hearing that more-than-one-hour-long chewing episode recorded on the biologger left me astonished. Was this individual bat just an exceptionally slow eater? Or had it taken down something very large?

In the flight cage, a fringe-lipped bat (Trachops cirrhosus) feeds on a túngara frog. Under controlled conditions, researchers can observe its feeding behavior in detail: The bat holds its prey in its jaws, braced by one or both thumb claws, and methodically gnaws until only the gallbladder is left uneaten. Credit: Joseph See, Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute

To find out, I turned to a feeding experiment I had run in captivity, where I measured how long bats chewed prey of known weights. That calibration allowed me to translate chewing time in the wild into meal size. I discovered that most prey weighed around 2 grams, about 7% of a bat’s body mass. But some meals were far larger, reaching up to 30 grams – nearly the bat’s own weight.

How can a creature so small, with so little energy to spare, afford to hunt like a lion?

Listening to dinner

Our bats’ style of hunting is close to that of lions or polar bears, but the efficiency of their hunts sets the bats apart from any large predator. After leaving the roost at dusk, they spent just over five minutes flying in total before making their first attack. So rather than spending the whole night in search on the wing, they flew only about 11% of the time – less than half an hour over five hours of recording.

How could they find their meals so quickly? The answer lies in their extraordinary ears.

Fringe-lipped bats are masters of acoustic espionage. Instead of using echolocation alone to detect their prey, they eavesdrop on the sounds that frogs and other animals make. A túngara frog’s distinctive “tuuuuungara,” for example, carries through the forest and serves as a perfect beacon for a hungry bat.

Trachops splashing while catching a tungara frog from a pond
The fringe-lipped bat (Trachops cirrhosus) splashes while catching a túngara frog from a pond in the rainforest in Panama.
Grant Maslowski, CC BY-SA

Our recordings show that attacks were eight to 12 times more likely when frog calls were present. Strikes launched from flight clustered near loud choruses, while nearly all attacks from perches occurred in silence.

The bats have a dual ambush strategy. They launch strikes from the air when prey are advertising themselves. When the forest falls quiet, they hang almost motionless from branches to listen for subtler cues, sweeping the scene with their large ears before swooping down onto their prey.

By alternating between active flight and patient perch hunting, they minimize effort and maximize success.

Learning to thrive in a changing world

Fringe-lipped bats have solved the small-predator dilemma by hunting large prey – such as frogs, lizards, birds or rodents – with remarkably little effort.

But not every bat we tracked was equally efficient. Adults tackled a wider range of prey, while juveniles focused only on smaller, more manageable meals – likely smaller frogs, grasshoppers and dragonflies. This variation suggests that experience plays a major role.

Fringe-lipped bats are long-lived – some over 14 years – and have exceptional memories. They can learn new prey sounds by trial and error, or even by observing other bats. Over a lifetime, a bat refines its strategy, becoming more selective in its choice of prey. In this way, it seems that its hunting success is not just a product of anatomy or instinct – it’s also a story of cognitive evolution.

The bats’ success, however, depends on a thriving forest. As amphibians face global declines from disease, habitat loss and climate change, the bats’ longevity gives them some time to respond and learn, offering hope that these extraordinary predators can persist even as ecosystems change – if we work to keep their forests alive.

Extreme hunting efficiency in a carnivorous bat.

The Conversation

Leonie Baier has received funding from the European Union’s Horizon 2020 research and innovation
program (Marie Skłodowska-Curie Actions) and the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute.

ref. Tiny recording backpacks reveal bats’ surprising hunting strategy – https://theconversation.com/tiny-recording-backpacks-reveal-bats-surprising-hunting-strategy-271996