A new space race could turn our atmosphere into a ‘crematorium for satellites’

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Laura Revell, Professor of Atmospheric Chemistry, University of Canterbury

Alan Dyer/Getty Images

When we look up at the night sky and see a satellite glide past, we might not consider climate change or the ozone layer.

Space may feel separate from the environmental systems that sustain life on Earth. But increasingly, the way we build, launch and dispose of satellites is starting to change that.

Over the past few years, the number of satellite launches has skyrocketed. There are now nearly 15,000 active satellites in orbit around the Earth, most of them part of “mega-constellations” in which each satellite has a service life of only a few years.

New satellites must be quickly launched as replacements. To avoid leaving old, dead satellites in Earth’s already-crowded low orbits, most satellite operators deliberately de-orbit them into Earth’s upper atmosphere.

Here, they burn up or break apart into smaller pieces: a process known as “demisability”. In effect, satellites have become part of throwaway culture.

That approach is now being taken to a vastly larger scale. We are concerned about the implications for Earth’s climate and atmosphere.

A sleeper risk for our climate and ozone layer

Last month, SpaceX applied to the US Federal Communications Commission (FCC) for permission to launch one million more satellites for untested “AI data centres”.

That sheer number isn’t the only issue. SpaceX’s Starlink V2 “mini” satellites happen to weigh about 800 kilograms (kg) – roughly the mass of a small car – with later versions expected to reach around 1,250 kg. The planned V3 satellites are larger still, comparable in scale to a Boeing 737 airliner.

Rocket launches already contribute to climate change and ozone depletion. Scaling them up to deploy a million aircraft-sized satellites would push upper-atmosphere heating and ozone loss far beyond previous estimates, with the steady burn-up of dead satellites compounding the impacts.

This comes as burnt satellite dust is already being found in the atmosphere. In 2023, scientists studying aerosols in the upper atmosphere found metals from re-entering spacecraft. Just recently, lithium has been detected from the uncontrolled re-entry of a Falcon 9 rocket.

This is just a fraction of what is to come if planned megaconstellations go ahead – and SpaceX is far from the only player. Other operators worldwide have already asked for a combined total of over one million satellites.

All the while, the full environmental consequences remain poorly understood because satellite builders rarely disclose what their spacecraft are made of.

Scientists assume a large fraction is aluminium, which burns up into alumina particles, but the exact mix of materials – and the size of the particles produced – remains poorly constrained.

But we know the very smallest particles, finer than a human hair, can stay suspended in the atmosphere for years, contributing to ozone depletion and climate change.

Following similar assumptions to a previous study, we estimate that a million satellites could mean that a teragram (one billion kgs) of alumina accumulates in the upper atmosphere – enough, alongside launch emissions, to significantly alter atmospheric chemistry and heating in dramatic ways we do not yet understand.

There is no public mandate for a single company in one country to make changes on that scale to the planet’s atmosphere.

The consequences are not confined to the atmosphere. Not all re-entering satellites burn up; debris is already hitting the ground and the chance of a casualty from megaconstellation re-entries is now about 40% per five-year cycle – rising for both people and aircraft as more satellites are added to orbit.

Five person-sized pieces of shredded space debris, leaning on a wall inside a metal-sided building.
These pieces of shredded debris, which came from an expendable trunk module attached to one of SpaceX’s Dragon spacecraft, fell on farmland in Saskatchewan, Canada, in April 2024.
Samantha Lawler, CC BY-NC

In space, the picture is no less stark: the Outer Space Institute’s CRASH Clock suggests a collision would occur within 3.8 days if satellites stopped avoiding each other.

Many experts agree we are in the early stages of the Kessler Syndrome: a cascading chain reaction of collisions that multiplies space debris.

Our skies are not a dumping ground

Our night sky, especially cherished in New Zealand, is one of the few things everyone on Earth still shares.

According to simulations built by astronomers, constellations on the scale proposed by SpaceX would fill the sky with many thousands of satellites visible to the naked eye anywhere on Earth. Eventually, there could be more visible satellites than visible stars.

For scientists, observing the deaths of stars and searching for new planets would become much harder. Stargazing, astrotourism and cultural astronomy would similarly be disrupted worldwide.

All of this means the FCC’s ruling on the SpaceX proposal, now open to public submissions, could affect everyone – whether through changes to the atmosphere, growing collision risks in orbit or the loss of an unspoilt night sky.

One solution being discussed is to dispose of dead satellites in orbits away from Earth. But this would require much more fuel per satellite to escape Earth’s gravity, increasing both payload and the environmental impact of rocket launches. Some debris would still return to Earth.

With SpaceX and others planning rapid expansion, global regulation is needed: in an uncapped system, regulating one firm just shifts the problem elsewhere. As the largest operator, SpaceX is best placed to lead on an environmentally sustainable solution, just as Du Pont did with phasing out CFCs in the 1980s.

A first step is to define a safe atmospheric carrying capacity for satellite launches and re-entries. Environmental assessments should cover the full lifecycle, including atmospheric effects, and address both orbital safety and impacts on cultural and research astronomy.

Whatever the regulatory outcome, using the atmosphere as a crematorium for satellites at this scale cannot be a solution.

The Conversation

Laura Revell receives funding from the Marsden Fund and Rutherford Discovery Fellowships, administered from New Zealand Government funding by the Royal Society Te Apārangi. She is a member of the International Ozone Commission, UN Environmental Effects Assessment Panel, UN Nuclear War Effects Panel, and a lead author on the IPCC’s 7th Assessment Report.

Michele Bannister receives funding from the Rutherford Discovery Fellowships, administered from New Zealand Government funding by the Royal Society Te Apārangi. She is a member of the International Astronomical Union’s Centre for Dark and Quiet Skies.

Samantha Lawler receives funding from the Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada. She is a fellow of the Outer Space Institute, and a Visiting Erskine Fellow at the University of Canterbury.

ref. A new space race could turn our atmosphere into a ‘crematorium for satellites’ – https://theconversation.com/a-new-space-race-could-turn-our-atmosphere-into-a-crematorium-for-satellites-276366

20 billion galaxies: new survey of the sky will reveal the universe in unprecedented detail

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Anais Möller, Senior Lecturer and ARC DECRA Fellow, School of Science, Computing and Emerging Technologies, Swinburne University of Technology

Trifid nebula (top) and the Lagoon nebula, which are several thousand light-years away from Earth. NSF–DOE Vera C. Rubin Observatory

When you look up at the night sky, it appears unchanging. But if you look deep enough you will find that the sky is in fact constantly shifting. Satellites, asteroids and interstellar objects pass by. Stars not only shine brightly, they can suddenly burst with energy or explode in bright supernovae.

There is a plethora of explosive and cataclysmic phenomena waiting to be witnessed. For physicists, this is an opportunity to study our universe and physics that we can’t reproduce on Earth.

A whole new era of discovery is opening with the NSF-DOE Vera C. Rubin Observatory. For the next ten years, Rubin will create a high-definition video of the southern sky, revealing our universe in an unprecedented way. Many of the objects it finds will have never before been seen by human eyes.

More than 20 years in the making

This moment has been more than 20 years in the making, from the concept to completion of the Rubin Observatory.

Located on a dark sky mountaintop in Chile, the observatory represents a generational leap in astronomy with its ultra-wide, deep and high-resolution imaging capabilities.

Rubin has the largest camera ever built, with 3,200 megapixels. Each image scans an area equivalent to 40 full moons. The resolution of the images is so high that if we pointed the camera toward a lime located 24 kilometres away, it would be able to resolve exactly what type of fruit it is.

Last year, Rubin amazed us with its first test images. These images revealed a swarm of new asteroids never before detected, stars varying in our Milky Way and beautiful deep images of galaxies. This is just a taster on what is to come; this week Rubin started publicly sharing hundreds of thousands changing sky objects per night.

The telescope will be uniquely used for the Legacy Survey of Space and Time. This ten-year-long survey aims to solve the biggest mysteries of the universe – and the nature of the physics out there.

Three separate squares, each with a blue background and a patch of bright white light.
Spot the cosmic difference! A new science observation (left) is compared against a reference template built from archival data (centre). Subtracting the two leaves only what has changed, a new source visible in the difference image (right). This is a supernova candidate found with the Fink broker using Vera C. Rubin data.
Rubin Observatory/Fink broker

20 billion galaxies

With its advanced imaging capabilities and its systematic scan of the sky, Rubin will image an incredible number of objects in our universe over the next decade.

Starting in our cosmic backyard, our Solar System, it will make 6 million detections of asteroids. Moving toward our galaxy, it will catalogue 17 billion stars. Farther away, it will gather colour images of 20 billion galaxies.

The same patch of the sky will be imaged up to 100 times each year. With an expected 10 terrabytes of image data per night, the amount of data Rubin will deliver in a single year will be greater than all optical observatories combined.

With this data, we aim to answer fundamental questions. These include the nature of the most mysterious components of our universe: dark matter and dark energy.

I am particularly interested in using the data to measure whether the universe expansion maintains a constant acceleration or changes with cosmic time. This accelerated cosmic expansion is attributed to dark energy, which comprises 70% of our universe. Yet we still don’t know what it is.

By itself, this measurement would be amazing, especially since recent observations have hinted the expansion rate may be changing. From the physics point of view, this will allow us to narrow down which potential theories can explain dark energy.

A firehose of cosmic treasures

To find changing sky objects, we compare a new image to an “old” or reference image. The difference between the two images can reveal a new object or a change of brightness.

So how do we find the most interesting exploding stars or asteroids within this mass of detections?

Rubin has selected seven “community brokers”. A broker is both the infrastructure and the team that receives this data firehose within minutes of detection, processes it to find the most exciting objects, and makes them publicly available.

One of these community brokers is Fink, which I have the privilege of co-leading.

Fink is made up of hundreds of scientists and engineers around the world working together to understand our universe. With the incredible Rubin data, comes a great opportunity but also a big challenge.

We need state-of-the-art technologies such as distributed computing (a network of computers, similar to commercial cloud services) and artificial intelligence tools to process the data very fast. We are talking about analysing thousands of detections from Rubin every minute or two, and up to 10 million every night for ten years.

Become a Rubin citizen scientist

You can also engage with Rubin right now.

Rubin’s first images are available online and you can use apps such as Orbitviewer to track asteroids, as well as look at deep images with SkyViewer.

You can also become a Rubin citizen scientist. For example, you can help to identify changing objects in our universe with Rubin Difference Detectives and find comets with Rubin Comet Catchers.

The data from community brokers is also publicly available. Through our Fink portal, you will be able to inspect the latest detections from Rubin just minutes after an image has been taken.

The data may not look like the stunning Rubin first light images. But they come directly from the telescope and are full of universe treasures.


Correction: this article originally stated the Legacy Survey of Space and Time has started. It has been amended to make clear the survey has not yet started but that the Rubin Observatory has started publicly sharing data.

The Conversation

Anais Möller receives funding from the Australian Research Council and the French National Centre for Scientific Research.

ref. 20 billion galaxies: new survey of the sky will reveal the universe in unprecedented detail – https://theconversation.com/20-billion-galaxies-new-survey-of-the-sky-will-reveal-the-universe-in-unprecedented-detail-273574

A cosmic explosion with the force of a billion Suns went unseen – until we caught its echo

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Ashna Gulati, PhD Candidate, Radio Astronomy, University of Sydney

NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center Conceptual Image Lab

Some of the universe’s most extreme explosions leave behind almost no trace. The original explosion is unseen, but our observations can capture the long-lived echo it leaves behind as the shock front ploughs into its surrounding environment.

In new research accepted for publication in The Astrophysical Journal, we have discovered what may be the clearest example yet of one of these hidden explosions: the radio afterglow of a powerful gamma-ray burst whose initial blast went unnoticed.

The only other viable explanation for what we see is an extraordinarily rare event in which a star is torn apart by an intermediate-mass black hole: a long-hypothesised, elusive class of black holes that has proven difficult to detect.

Either way, we’re watching the slow-motion aftermath of one of the most extreme, rare events the cosmos can produce.

The explosions we usually miss

Gamma-ray bursts are brief but powerful jets of high-energy radiation. Within seconds, they release as much energy as the Sun will emit over its entire lifetime. They are caused when massive stars die and form black holes.

While these jets are launched in all directions, we only observe the small fraction whose emission is directed towards us. When it is directed away from us, the initial flash goes unseen, and all we can observe is the slowly fading afterglow.

Animation of a gamma-ray burst showing the narrow, high-energy jets.
NASA

Although these so-called “orphan afterglows” of gamma-ray bursts have been predicted for decades, finding them has proven extraordinarily difficult. Without a high-energy flash to announce their arrival, astronomers have to search thousands of square degrees of sky.

As a result, these cosmic explosions are easy to miss, and hard to recognise when they do appear – until now.

A cosmic ghost appears

Using the Australian SKA Pathfinder (ASKAP), a 36-antenna radio telescope at Inyarrimanha Ilgari Bundara in Western Australia, we scanned vast regions of sky for unexpected long-lived radio transients (astronomical objects that appear and change over weeks to years). We were trying to catch rare events that reveal themselves only through their fading radio emission.

In data from one of these wide-field surveys, we noticed a radio source (named ASKAP J005512-255834), that hadn’t been there before.

It brightened rapidly, releasing 10³² Watts of energy into space – comparable to the total radio energy output of billions of Suns – and then began to fade slowly over time.

Brightening of the radio afterglow detected in the RACS survey with ASKAP. Observations beginning in 2022 capture the source turning on, after which it remains detectable for more than 1,000 days.
Emil Lenc

This behaviour immediately set it apart. Most radio transients either evolve quickly or flare repeatedly. This source did neither. Instead, it behaved like the lingering echo of a single, immensely powerful explosion.

Although ASKAP J005512-255834 was bright at radio wavelengths, it left almost no signal at other wavelengths. We could not see a counterpart in visible light or X-rays.

This is exactly what astronomers expect from an orphan afterglow: the fading, widening glow of a tightly focused cosmic jet that was not initially pointed towards Earth, becoming visible only after it slows and spreads.

A busy neighbourhood, billions of light-years away

This rare transient is located in a small but bright galaxy around 1.7 billion light-years from Earth. The galaxy has an irregular structure and is actively forming stars, making it a natural environment for extreme stellar events such as stellar collapse or violent stellar disruption.

The image on the left shows the location of the radio afterglow within the galaxy 2dFGRS TGS143Z140, captured with the Magellan Telescope in Chile. On the right, we see the same radio source detected by the Giant Metrewave Radio Telescope in India.
Ashna Gulati

The position of the explosion is off to one side, not aligned with the galaxy’s central nucleus. Instead, it appears to lie within a compact star-forming region, possibly a nuclear star cluster.

This raises new questions about what kinds of environments can host such powerful cosmic events.

Could it be something else?

Because ASKAP J005512-255834 is so unusual, we had to do some detective work to figure out what it might be. We carefully examined (and ruled out) some alternative explanations, including stars, pulsars and supernovae.

The only other scenario capable of reproducing the observed radio behaviour involves a star being torn apart by an intermediate-mass black hole. These are a rare class of black holes that sit between stellar remnants and the supermassive giants found in galaxy centres.

Such events are thought to be extremely rare at radio wavelengths, but we cannot completely rule out this explanation. Confirming it would make this the first example of its kind, a discovery just as interesting as an orphan gamma-ray burst.

A hidden universe revealed by radio waves

Was this discovery a stroke of luck, or the first glimpse of a long-hidden population? Until recently, we simply didn’t have the tools to know.

ASKAP J005512-255834 is the most convincing orphan gamma-ray burst afterglow yet identified. It was found by using our radio telescope to search for the long-lived echo of an explosion we didn’t know had occurred.

Using the same approach, we now hope to uncover many more of these orphan afterglows and finally give them a place in our cosmic story.

In doing so, we may be able to build a full picture of the gamma-ray burst population, including those that never announced themselves with a flash, but lingered quietly as ghosts in the radio sky.

The Conversation

Ashna Gulati receives funding from the Australian Research Training Program and the Australian Research Council Centre of Excellence for Gravitational Wave Discovery (OzGrav).

Tara Murphy receives funding from the Australian Research Council.

ref. A cosmic explosion with the force of a billion Suns went unseen – until we caught its echo – https://theconversation.com/a-cosmic-explosion-with-the-force-of-a-billion-suns-went-unseen-until-we-caught-its-echo-275565

New global study: long after war, nearly 4 in 10 people injured by landmines and explosives die

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Stacey Pizzino, Lecturer, School of Public Health, The University of Queensland

When a war ends and peace agreements are signed, most people assume the danger is over. But for many communities around the world the danger remains in the ground, waiting.

Landmines and other explosives left behind after a conflict can stay active for decades – buried in the paths to school, in the fields that feed families and in the areas where children play.

In some countries, such as Laos and the Solomon Islands, bombs from conflicts decades ago still injure and kill.

This quiet danger isn’t a distant problem. Today, at least 57 countries are contaminated by landmines and other explosive ordnance, including mortars and grenades.

At the same time, some governments are stepping back from the Landmine Ban Treaty, the first comprehensive treaty aimed at eliminating landmines in conflicts. Decisions made in parliaments today can translate into hazards underfoot for years to come.

Our new research is aimed at understanding the ongoing risk landmines pose. The study is the world’s largest analysis of landmine and explosive ordnance casualties. And the data allows us to answer critical questions: who dies from these weapons, and why?

What do the numbers tell us?

In our study, we analysed 105,913 casualties across 17 conflict-affected countries, using operational data. These are the real world operational records routinely collected by national mine action authorities, the UN and other humanitarian organisations.

These records let us see what communities are facing without adding any burden to these often stretched services.

Across all settings, the case fatality rate was 38.8%. Put simply: for every ten people injured by landmines or other explosive ordnance around the world, nearly four die. This is extraordinarily high.

For comparison, the fatality rate for blast injuries among military personnel or civilians treated in well-resourced trauma centres is around 2%.

The gap highlights the brutal disparity between those who are injured in environments with functioning surgical and trauma care and those who are not.

Not all explosive threats are equal, either.

Improvised explosive devices (IEDs) were the most lethal weapon type in our analysis.

IEDs are increasingly used in many modern conflicts and are often remotely detonated to maximise casualties. Their explosive force and unpredictability cause devastating injuries that many local health systems are simply not equipped to manage.

Who is most affected?

Although most casualties from landmines and explosive ordnance are men, women had significantly higher odds of dying from their injuries. This likely reflects unequal access to health care, delayed treatment, and social barriers that limit mobility and decision making in many conflict-affected settings.

Children’s risks are different – they are both vulnerable and resilient.

Children are particularly at risk of detonating landmines when playing, when caught up in active conflict, or simply as bystanders.

The reason is often tragic.
Children tend to play together in groups, meaning when one child encounters an explosive remnant, several are injured at once.

Yet, overall, children in our data were more likely to survive their injuries than adults, perhaps because they sustain different injury patterns or receive care sooner when adults rush to assist.

But survival is only the beginning. Children may need multiple surgeries, new prostheses as they grow up, long-term rehabilitation and lifelong disability support. These are needs that many health systems struggle to meet.

Age also shapes outcomes. The highest odds of death were observed in adults aged 45–64. Older people may have pre-existing health issues and face greater barriers to reaching medical care, yet their needs can often be overlooked.

The human cost of explosives

The impact of landmines and explosive ordnance extends far beyond immediate injuries. These injuries disrupt people’s daily lives in ways that can entrench communities in poverty.

For example, farmers cannot safety cultivate their land because of the threat of landmines. Women gathering water or food can trigger explosives, too.

When injuries occur, families lose breadwinners and care-giving roles change, pushing households deeper into poverty.

How can we strengthen care for survivors?

There are ways to mitigate the impacts of landmines and explosive ordnance, though. This is a preventable public health crisis.

Our findings highlight the urgent need to strengthen emergency, critical and surgical care in conflict-affected areas to reduce preventable deaths.

Reliable pre-hospital care, transport and basic surgical care saves lives. So does long-term rehabilitation and disability support, especially for children who will live with the consequences of these explosive weapons and injuries for decades.

As old conflicts continue and new ones emerge, explosive ordnance keep contaminating the places where people live, play, work and travel.

Understanding who dies, and why, is essential to preventing future deaths and ensuring that peace, when it comes, offers real safety.

The Conversation

Stacey Pizzino received funding from the Australian government Research Training Program.

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

ref. New global study: long after war, nearly 4 in 10 people injured by landmines and explosives die – https://theconversation.com/new-global-study-long-after-war-nearly-4-in-10-people-injured-by-landmines-and-explosives-die-276062

Does ‘free’ shipping really exist? An expert shares the marketing tricks you need to know

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Adrian R. Camilleri, Associate Professor of Marketing, University of Technology Sydney

Claudio Schwarz/Unsplash

You’re scrolling through an online retailer, like Amazon, Shein or eBay, and spot a shirt on sale for $40. You add it to your cart, but at checkout, a $10 shipping fee suddenly appears. Frustrated, you close the tab.

But what if that same shirt was priced at $50 with “free” shipping? The likelihood that you would have bought it without a second thought is much higher.

COVID changed the way we shop and accelerated our reliance on e-commerce. But as online sales have grown, so has the expectation of free delivery.

The reality, however, is that shipping physical goods is never actually free. Retailers use subtle marketing strategies and psychological hacks to mask these costs. As a result, consumers are often the ones footing the bill.

The magic of zero

There is something uniquely attractive about the concept “free”. In behavioural economics, zero is not just a lower price; it flips a psychological switch.

When a transaction involves a cost, we instinctively weigh the downside. But when something is entirely free, we experience a positive emotion and perceive the offer as more valuable than it is mathematically.

Retailers no doubt realise that offering free delivery is one of the most effective ways to stop a consumer from abandoning a digital shopping cart.

The minimum spend trap

Perhaps the most common marketing tactic is the free shipping threshold. Sometimes this is phrased as: “Spend $55 to qualify for free shipping.”

If your shopping cart is sitting at $40, you face a dilemma. You can pay $10 for postage, or you can find a $15 item to reach the threshold. Many of us choose the latter, reasoning it is better to get a tangible product, such as a pair of socks, than to “waste” money on shipping.

This tactic uses the “goal gradient effect”, which describes the tendency to put in more effort the closer we get to a goal. It also works incredibly well for the retailer.

Research shows that free shipping increases both purchase frequency and overall order size. Policies with a threshold for free shipping often prompt this exact “topping up” behaviour. The consumer ends up buying things they did not initially want, thus boosting the retailer’s sales.

A person receiving two parcels via delivery
Minimum spend threshold marketing ploys are encouraging consumers to spend more to ‘avoid’ shipping costs.
Polina Tankilevitch/Pexels

Baked-in costs and the reality of ‘free’ returns

Another strategy is unconditional free shipping, where the delivery cost is simply baked into the product’s base price. This allows consumers to avoid the “pain of paying” a separate fee at checkout. However, we are still paying for the postage through higher item costs.

For retailers, offering unconditional free shipping without a markup can be difficult to sustain profitably. The bump in sales usually does not offset the lost fee revenue and the costs of fulfilment.

A major reason for this lack of profitability is that free shipping leads to significantly higher product return rates.

Consumers tend to make riskier purchases if the appearance of waived fees lowers the perceived financial risk of the transaction.

For example, you might order the same shirt in two different sizes, knowing you can just send one back for free. Who pays for that added convenience? The retailer, who now has to cover the courier fees twice.

The retailer usually won’t simply absorb this cost, but will have to pass it on in other ways.

The subscription illusion

To combat these unpredictable costs, many businesses are turning to membership, loyalty, or subscription models such as Amazon Prime. Consumers pay an upfront annual fee in exchange for “free” expedited shipping year-round.

Membership-based programs successfully increase customer loyalty and purchase frequency, and allow for better customer segmentation.

But in the long run, they may actually hurt a retailer’s profit margins. While loyalty rises, the operational costs of fulfilling many smaller, free-shipped orders can potentially outweigh the benefits if not strictly managed.

For the consumer, this model manipulates our “mental accounting”. Because we view the upfront fee as money already spent, every additional purchase feels like it comes with a free perk. We end up shopping more frequently on that specific platform just to “get our money’s worth”.

Don’t buy the illusion

The age of limitless free shipping may be coming to an end.

As global supply chain costs remain volatile, we are likely to see retailers raising their minimum spend thresholds, removing offers, or increasing base product prices to compensate.

The next time you are shopping online, resist the urge for instant gratification.

If you are about to add a $15 pair of novelty avocado socks to your cart, just to save $10 on shipping, take a step back. Ask yourself if you truly need that purchase to arrive this week.

Instead of rushing to checkout, let your digital basket fill up naturally over time with items you actually need. You will eventually hit the threshold, but on your own terms.

“Free” delivery is just a clever psychological illusion. The cost is rarely eliminated; it is simply redistributed into higher product prices or reframed as a loyalty perk.

Don’t let the allure of “free” shipping trick you into paying for more than you intended.

The Conversation

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

ref. Does ‘free’ shipping really exist? An expert shares the marketing tricks you need to know – https://theconversation.com/does-free-shipping-really-exist-an-expert-shares-the-marketing-tricks-you-need-to-know-276397

What Bridgerton’s ‘pinnacle’ tells us about sex talk today

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Alexandra James, Research Fellow, Australian Research Centre in Sex, Health and Society, La Trobe University

Liam Daniel/Netflix © 2025

Among the corsets and chemistry, the latest season of Bridgerton gets one thing right: the taboos around talking about sex and sexual pleasure.

Newlywed Francesca asks in hushed confusion what it means to reach “the pinnacle” (orgasm). As she cannot reach one, she is concerned this may be linked to her inability to fall pregnant.

When Francesca seeks advice from her mother Violet, she’s told:

A pinnacle, it is pleasant … It is a delightful um, closeness, that is um, it’s nearly impossible to describe. It’s like a shared language. And when you speak the same language you are able to feel um [a] magical, special feeling inside.

What’s a pinnacle? Francesca’s mother Violet isn’t much help.

Confused, Francesca turns to her more experienced sister-in-law Penelope for clearer answers. But she still can’t find what she’s looking for.

Bridgerton may be a Regency-era historical fantasy. But this dynamic mirrors what we see today – young people want information about sex and sexual pleasure, yet parents often feel awkward and ill-equipped to provide it.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

Some things don’t change

Young people today consistently say they want information about sex and relationships that emphasises emotions and pleasure. But they often learn about it from peers or online.

Meanwhile, many parents share their discomfort when discussing the more intimate dimensions of sexuality.

In our 2025 study of Australian parents and carers, many said they were uncertain about how to initiate or sustain meaningful conversations about sex and relationships. They were unsure what information was age-appropriate, especially where children may already find sexual content online.

Parents and carers were more confident talking about body image, consent and safety, puberty and periods. But they were particularly uncomfortable talking about sexual pleasure, satisfaction and masturbation.

Parents frequently connected their unease to their own upbringing, describing childhood homes where sex was rarely discussed openly. (In Bridgerton, when Francesca’s mother later admits she struggles to talk about sex even with her lover, the parallel is hard to miss.)

Parents who felt more comfortable discussing sex with partners, friends or health professionals were more likely to feel confident talking about it with their children.

Mothers still take the lead

While Francesca searches for information about her own pleasure, a female housekeeper cautions her brother Benedict about power and responsibility when she notices his attraction to Sophie, a housemaid.

This echoes contemporary differences in how sons and daughters are prepared for intimate relationships. Boys are positioned to manage power and consent, often with less space to explore ideas of love and romance.

Significantly, it is also women who most often take on this preparatory work.

In Bridgerton, the roles of Francesca’s mother, her sister-in-law Penelope and the housekeeper reflect a broader pattern of gendered labour in sex education: women continue to be positioned as the default parent responsible for navigating these conversations.

In our study, mothers reported significantly higher confidence than fathers in discussing consent and safety with both daughters and sons, compared with fathers, particularly fathers of sons.

What about pleasure?

When we talk about sex only in terms of risk, focusing on pregnancy, infection and harm, we also narrow the story young people can tell about intimacy.

It can reinforce a familiar binary: boys as potential perpetrators, girls as potential victims, and sex itself as something that “happens” rather than something negotiated.

Leaving pleasure out of conversations between parents and their children doesn’t make conversations safer; it makes them incomplete. Without a language for desire, boundaries and dissatisfaction, young people have fewer tools to recognise coercion, communicate their needs, or imagine sex that is mutual and wanted.

We also cannot expect young people, especially young women, to advocate for their own pleasure if they have never been given the vocabulary to understand what it is and what to expect.

We also know young people ask for clarity about the “mechanics” of sex; how it works, what it feels like, and how to do it.

Parents play an important role in supporting this learning, particularly as sexual pleasure and wellbeing are among the topics less likely to be covered in school-based education, which has tended to focus on reducing harm.




Read more:
6 ways to talk to your teens about sex without the cringe


But some things have changed

If parents are reluctant to talk to their children about sex and relationships, it’s rarely because they don’t want to. Our study shows they’re not certain what to say, when to say it, and how much detail to provide.

Many parents worried their child would feel uncomfortable, or feared saying the wrong thing. One in three said they had not had any conversations about sex or relationships with their children in the past 12 months.

But unlike in Bridgerton, today’s parents are not confined to metaphor. Resources exist to support more open, direct conversations about bodies, relationships and pleasure, which young people want.

Talking about sex, especially pleasure, can feel uncomfortable. But this is not a reason to stay silent. It is often a sign the conversation matters.


Talk soon. Talk often: a guide for parents talking to their kids about sex helps parents judge age-appropriate information and how to talk about it.

The Conversation

Alexandra James received funding from the Department of Health, Disability and Ageing.

Andrea Waling receives funding from the Australian Research Council, the Department of Health, Disability and Ageing (AU) and the National Institute for Health and Social Care Research (UK).

ref. What Bridgerton’s ‘pinnacle’ tells us about sex talk today – https://theconversation.com/what-bridgertons-pinnacle-tells-us-about-sex-talk-today-276504

The U.S. Supreme Court’s tariff ruling shows American checks and balances are still at work

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Ian Lee, Professor, Sprott School of Business, Carleton University

As we approach the halfway point of U.S. President Donald Trump’s second — and constitutionally last — term in office, Canadian polls reveal an increasingly dark and pessimistic view of Canada’s relationship and future with the United States.

As a recent public opinion poll found, Canadians are 3.5 times more likely to see the U.S. as a threat to Canadian security than China.

While these attitudes are understandable in light of recent U.S. policy, they may overstate the extent to which American democratic institutions and constitutional checks on presidential authority have actually collapsed.

Claims of democratic decline

A number of Canadian pundits and analysts have claimed the U.S. has become — or is on the cusp of becoming — a de facto dictatorship where the rule of law and checks and balances no longer operate effectively or at all.

But to equate controversial or legally contested executive actions with the collapse of 250 years of constitutional democracy risks conflating the overreach of a singular president with the end of 250 years of constitutional democracy.

Core American institutions remain operational. Committees of the U.S. House of Representatives and Senate continue to meet, debate and pass bills and budgets weekly, and federal and superior courts continue to issue rulings daily.

Most importantly, the midterm elections will be held this November in all 435 congressional districts. One-third of the 100 U.S. Senators are up for re-election and 36 states will have elections for governor in addition to a plethora of state legislature elections.

Real Clear Politics publishes the average of major polls, which reveals Republicans are five per cent behind generic congressional contests with Democratic opponents.

The Supreme Court and tariff authority

One of the most consequential institutional checks on presidential power occurred recently when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that Trump’s use of the emergency powers legislation to enact tariffs was illegal.

The ruling invalidated a large swath of tariffs imposed since early 2025, halting tariff collections under the International Emergency Economic Powers Act and opening the door to potential refunds for affected businesses.

The court’s decision was symbolically very important. It reasserted the primacy of rule of law in finding Trump acted illegally and reaffirmed that U.S. Congress possesses the constitutional authority to impose taxes, which includes tariffs.

However, it’s important to note that Canada and other trading countries are not free of further tariffs, as Trump can apply new tariffs using other laws. As a case in point, following the Supreme Court’s decision, Trump enacted a 10 per cent worldwide tariff using Section 122 of the 1974 Trade Act.

Limits on executive power

This brings us to a second fundamental check and balance on the U.S. president: that Trump only has approximately 2.5 years left in office as he is term-limited by the U.S. Constitution, despite repeatedly suggesting he might run for a third term in 2028.

In addition, the mid-term elections will be held in November. The Republicans hold a narrow majority in both the House of Representatives (218-214) and the Senate (53-47) while Trump’s poll numbers are down considerably.

Since at least the Second World War, the party that occupies the presidency typically loses control of the House in the off-year elections to the other political party.

It is increasingly likely that the Republicans will lose control of the House in November. This will ensure that Trump, with only two years left in office, will be doubly constrained by budgetary battles and probable impeachment proceedings by the Democrats.

If this scenario occurs, any legislative imposition of tariffs to overcome the Supreme Court decision is highly improbable.

Trade agreements and Canadian interests

The recent Supreme Court decision and the restrictions on Trump’s discretion imposed by Canada-United States-Mexico Agreement demonstrates the urgent necessity to renew it, as it’s up for review this year.

The review process has been underway since September of last year, but Trump stalled trade negotiations with Canada in October over an Ontario government ad.

Trade agreements do not compel trade, as trade is a voluntary act between consenting corporations. Rather, such agreements provide the framework, or rules, that state what behaviour is legal and what is not.

Trade agreements create order and stability in place of chaos, anarchy and massive uncertainty. For export-dependent economies like Canada’s, predictability is itself an economic asset.

At the very top of the Canadian government to-do list should be the successful negotiation of a new trade agreement with the U.S. — the largest economy in the world and Canada’s largest trading partner — to reduce the radical, unprecedented uncertainty facing business that is causing an exodus of capital investment.

An enduring relationship

While there is an urgent need to diversify Canada’s trade, it is unrealistic to suggest Canada can divert most of its $800 billion in bilateral trade with America to other regions.

The common refrain that we cannot trust Trump to obey a new treaty is to claim that no agreement — law of the jungle and anarchy — is superior to rules and stability, however inadequate those rules and penalties may be.

Canada needs to constrain Trump for the last 2.5 years until the next president is in place who will likely be less confrontational and less hostile to Canada, no matter whether they’re Democratic or Republican.

As Henry John Temple, a former prime minister of the United Kingdom, once famously said, a nation has no permanent friends or enemies, only interests. It is the role of national leadership to identify common interests that will become the foundation or zone of agreement.

Canada shares an 8,800-kilometre border with the U.S., and a shared history of political, social, cultural and family relationships and exchanges. These deep enduring ties cannot be erased by one singular four-year rogue president.

The Conversation

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

ref. The U.S. Supreme Court’s tariff ruling shows American checks and balances are still at work – https://theconversation.com/the-u-s-supreme-courts-tariff-ruling-shows-american-checks-and-balances-are-still-at-work-276602

How the Junos have helped define the Canadian music industry

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Rosheeka Parahoo, PhD, Musicology, Western University

Each year, as Canadians sit down to watch the Juno Awards — this year airing live on CBC and CBC Gem on
March 29
— it’s worth thinking about how award shows are never just simple celebrations.

National arts award ceremonies like the Junos are part of a cultural system that help define who belongs, who succeeds and what counts as “Canadian” in the first place.

My doctoral research investigated equity, diversity and inclusion across the Canadian music industry at three levels: individual, institutional and regulatory. What emerged was a clear picture of how industry practices and cultural policy shape the very idea of Canadian identity.

The history of the Junos cannot be separated from the history of attempts at exploring and solidifying Canadian identity, and this is one reason they deserve more critical attention today.

From ‘music in Canada’ to ‘Canadian music’

When Canadian music industry pioneer Walt Grealis launched the RPM Gold Leaf Awards ceremony on Feb. 23, 1970, his aim was to celebrate the industry.

These awards began in 1964, based on a poll of readers conducted by RPM (Record, Promotion, Music) magazine, focused on tracking the Canadian music industry.

The timing of the first RPM Gold Leaf awards ceremony in 1970 was significant, because it took place just one week after Pierre Juneau, the first chairman of the Canadian Radio and Television Commission, proposed the country’s first Canadian content regulations.

The RPM Gold Leaf awards were renamed the Juno Awards in 1971. According to the Juno website, the renaming was in tribute to Juneau and the name was shortened to “Juno” for practical purposes.

But other versions of this history exist. According to a 2018 CBC radio segment, “How the Junos got its name,” Juno became the name because it was shorter and still referred to the CanCon creator “but also had the allure of the Roman goddess Juno.”

From the start, the Junos were marked by power struggles that reflected a market wrestling with the balance between nationalism and corporatization. Most early winners were determined by RPM reader polls, meaning popularity among readers of the magazine, rather than commercial power (that is, sales), shaped outcomes and winners.




Read more:
Junos 2023 reminds us how Canadian content regulations and funding supports music across the country


The Canadian Recording Industry Association (now Music Canada) saw an opportunity for “an award that was voted on by the music industry as a whole,” and wanted a televised ceremony that could sell major-label acts.

The association’s warning in 1974 that it was going to launch a rival “Maple Music Awards” incentivized Grealis to accept a broadcast model and hand over administration to what soon became the Canadian Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences.

By 1975, the Junos were fully televised and invited everyone to witness a particular vision of Canada on a national stage.

Coincided with rise of CanCon

The rise of the Junos coincided with the moment when Canadian content regulations pushed broadcasters and music companies to articulate a distinctly Canadian cultural product.

Music consumers were not merely buying records. They were, as Ryan Edwardson argued in his book Canuck Rock: A History of Popular Music, , “citizens consuming a national identity” — something understood by industry strategists.

Edwardson cites popular musicologist Philip Auslander, who observed that the music industry works to “endow its products with the necessary signs of authenticity.” In Canada, that meant national affiliation. The televised Juno Awards became an ideal vehicle for that authentic national affiliation.

Televising the Junos shifted the spotlight from “music in Canada” to “Canadian music,” transforming a mere market category into something closer to a national identity project.

How Canadian identity is negotiated

As Canadian ethnomusicologist Beverley Diamond reminds us, awards shows can function as events where representation, critique and pushback unfold in real time.

They tell us not only who is being celebrated, but who is demanding to be seen. If the early years of the Juno Awards helped construct a national narrative around “Canadian music,” then the ceremony has just as often functioned as a space where that narrative has been challenged.

Across decades, performers have used the ceremony to highlight inequities, challenge the marginalization of Indigenous, Black and racialized artists and critique the commercial pressures that shape Canada’s musical ecosystem.




Read more:
The Juno Awards finally celebrate hip hop, but is it too late?


In doing so, they remind us that identity, especially Canadian identity, is never settled. As Diamond explores, these identity questions have also been played out in juxtaposition with the Grammy Awards in the United States. For example, in 2004, the Grammys staged OutKast’s performance in front of a green teepee and a chorus of stereotyped depictions of Indigenous women.

That same year, notes Diamond, the Junos responded with their own form of cultural rebuttal: Nelly Furtado, a now 10-time Juno Award winner and future Canadian Hall of Fame inductee, performed with the Cree group Whitefish Jrs. while performers crossed the stage with placards reading “Spirit.”

The message was its own form of resistance in an attempt to perhaps demonstrate what respectful representation could look like, and assert a different cultural ethic — perhaps a uniquely Canadian one.

Moments like these reveal that the Juno stage is both a platform for national celebration and a political terrain where artists contest the meaning of Canadian music and identity itself.

This negotiation is especially salient today. Canadian cultural sovereignty feels increasingly precarious in a globalized market where U.S. platforms dominate distribution, streaming metrics shape artistic value and “success” is often coded through American visibility.

The ceremony’s history reminds us that Canadian music has always been shaped by policy, from CanCon rules to broadcast mandates. It reminds us that corporate and nationalist interests have been tightly intertwined and that they have produced both opportunity and constraint.

Finally, it shows us that artists, especially Indigenous, Black, racialized and politically vocal artists, have had to continually fight for representation in this Canadian celebration, and they have used the Juno stage to contest the narratives imposed upon them.




Read more:
Elisapie’s Juno-winning album: Promoting Inuktitut through music


Why the Junos matter now more than ever

As Canada tries to wrestle domestic interests away from U.S. cultural dominance, the Junos offer insight into just how deeply our arts and cultural systems are shaped by cross-border forces and our own internal contradictions.

They remind us that cultural institutions have the power to reinforce national pride, and also invite critical reflection, dissent and re-imagination.

If we want to understand the future of Canadian music, and therefore the future of Canadian identity, we need to stop treating the Junos as merely an award ceremony or a party.

The Junos show us what Canada thinks it is now, and perhaps more importantly, they show us what we might become.

The Conversation

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

ref. How the Junos have helped define the Canadian music industry – https://theconversation.com/how-the-junos-have-helped-define-the-canadian-music-industry-276845

The Epstein revelations have exposed how ‘Boy’s Club’ elites avoid accountability

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Dahlia Namian, Sociologue et professeure à l’École de service social de l’Université d’Ottawa, L’Université d’Ottawa/University of Ottawa

The Jeffrey Epstein case is not an exception. Like the #MeToo movement, it is part of a wider continuum of violence committed by men in power, made possible by a persistent culture of impunity.

The Epstein files reveal not only sexual crimes but also a tightly interconnected social world where capital, prestige, influence and dependency circulate freely.

The idea of the “Epstein class” can make this social structure visible, but it also risks personalizing the problem, reducing it to the story of a single manipulative individual. This carries a significant analytical risk: it obscures the deeper structural dynamics of class power. The Epstein case is not about an unusual individual; it is about the normalization of a social order where extreme wealth and male dominance are closely linked.

In my book
La société de provocation: essai sur l’obscénité des riches (The Society of Provocation: An Essay on the Obscenity of the Rich), I argue that this social order is anchored in a long-lasting alliance between economic and political elites, whose interests converge around the preservation of their privileges.

This alliance manifests in an economy of excess and overabundance — the so-called “wealthporn” or “pornopulence” — created for the ostentatious enjoyment of a small, protected elite. The Epstein case is only the tip of the iceberg. It reveals a global system that treats bodies, land and resources as things to exploit and discard for profit.

The Epstein revelations also compel us to examine this socially organized and institutionally protected class. Its power goes far beyond individual behaviour and rests on three inter-related social mechanisms: co-optation, insularization and neutralization.

Co-optation: The male-only network

Co-optation describes an organized system of male networks at the top of power structures. This is a boys’ club as described by Québec professor and writer Martine Delvaux: a closed world governed by unwritten rules of loyalty, discretion and mutual protection.

The Epstein files show that this club encompasses individuals from diverse positions — political leaders, heirs, royalty, traders, tech entrepreneurs, renowned scientists and media personalities.

The list of names — among the richest and most powerful people on the planet— speaks to the reach of this network. But the club’s power derives less from wealth alone than from the convertibility of status into social capital.

Even less wealthy members are “richly connected” — they leverage their contacts, expertise and privileged access to decision-making circles. Their networks constitute highly convertible transnational social capital, to be deployed strategically: by sharing sensitive information, facilitating tax optimization or avoidance, gaining access to influential professionals (doctors, lawyers, judges), and participating in selective social spaces (private clubs, exclusive events, yachts, gated estates).

Within this system, women are treated as objects for transaction, distinction and pleasure. Co-optation therefore functions as both a political and sexual socialization of privilege.

Insularization of the wealthy

This relational system is reinforced by a process of elite insularization, in which the wealthiest gradually withdraw from the broader world so they can live by their own rules. Extreme concentration of wealth does more than deepen inequality; it allows the privileged to retreat into “zones of secession” — spaces removed from common rules and ordinary societal constraints.

The Epstein files reveal a mobile, transnational over-class, entrenched in exceptional enclaves where social, fiscal and political obligations are minimal: private islands, gated neighborhoods, offshore tax regimes, private cities and multiple residences.

Little St. James, now called “Epstein Island”, exemplifies this logic. This 75-acre private island in the U.S. Virgin Islands featured a helicopter landing pad and multiple hidden villas. According to testimony from numerous witnesses, it was also where Epstein allegedly delivered victims to some of the world’s wealthiest and most powerful men for sexual exploitation.

The pornopulent class does not only retreat into privatized spaces; it also seizes shared, historically public spaces, turning them into showcases of power, as seen in Jeff Bezos’s ostentatious wedding in Venice.

But the insularization of the rich isn’t just spatial or fiscal. It also entails a social and political withdrawal of elites from democratic life. Support from several figures linked to the Epstein files from authoritarian, libertarian and reactionary movements — such as Donald Trump, Elon Musk and Peter Thiel — fits into this pattern, as recently highlighted by Oxfam.




Read more:
Donald Trump’s penchant for bullshit explains MAGA anger about the Epstein files


Neutralization of dissent

Finally, the Epstein case shows how complaints and dissent are neutralized, reinforcing class power. Despite repeated allegations and investigations, institutions meant to protect victims were circumvented, weakened or instrumentalized, while only a few people were punished. This reveals a familiar asymmetry: the more unequal a society, the more “justice” functions as protection for elites.

Neutralization relies first on unequal access to institutional resources. Specialized law firms, influence networks, PR firms and reputation industries favour confidential settlements, delay proceedings and exhaust victims.

It also relies on the close intertwining of political and media power. In the U.S., figures like Musk, Bezos, Larry Ellison and Mark Zuckerberg control media that’s increasingly aligned with Trump’s agenda in exchange for economic and regulatory benefits. By financing, acquiring or influencing media and digital platforms, the ruling elite narrows public debate and criticism.

Together, co-optation, insularization, and neutralization enable a class power that extends far beyond a single manipulative individual. They sustain a regime of predatory accumulation, in which economic and sexual violence reinforce each other for the benefit of a minority that enjoys, transgresses and flaunts with complete impunity.

Meanwhile, victims are silenced, contained by a dense network of legal, media and political protections for the elite even when some speak publicly, like the late Virginia Giuffre, without truly being heard. The Epstein case exposes a dangerous class whose power threatens not only women but the very foundations of democratic life.

The Conversation

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

ref. The Epstein revelations have exposed how ‘Boy’s Club’ elites avoid accountability – https://theconversation.com/the-epstein-revelations-have-exposed-how-boys-club-elites-avoid-accountability-276839

How social media draws vulnerable users back to eating disorder content – new research

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Paula Saukko, Reader in Social Science and Medicine, Loughborough University

myboys.me/Shutterstock

People recovering from eating disorders often use social media for support, seeking out recovery content, body-positive creators and others with similar experiences.

But recent research my colleagues and I have conducted suggests these platforms can also steer users back towards the very content they are trying to avoid.

We carried out in-depth interviews with people who had experienced eating disorders. Participants described how diet, fitness and body-focused posts repeatedly appeared in their social media feeds, even when they were actively trying to follow recovery content. Supportive and potentially harmful material often surfaced side by side during the same scrolling session.

Participants said they used social media to manage their mental health, following recovery accounts and blocking triggering material. At the same time, many felt recommendation systems continued to introduce weight-loss content, fitness imagery and appearance-focused posts.

Some felt this exposure had contributed to setbacks in their recovery or reinforced unhealthy thought patterns, although these are self-reported experiences rather than causal findings.

This qualitative research captures how people experience social media during recovery. It does not show that social media causes eating disorders, or that exposure to specific content leads directly to relapse. It does, however, highlight how users navigate platforms where recovery and diet content coexist, and how recommendation systems shape their feeds.

A growing body of research suggests this wider environment matters. Studies have linked social media use with body dissatisfaction and disordered eating symptoms, particularly among young people and women, though these relationships are complex and cannot establish causation. Exposure to idealised body imagery, “fitspiration” and diet content has been associated with increased concern about weight and appearance in observational research.




Read more:
Mounting research documents the harmful effects of social media use on mental health, including body image and development of eating disorders


Platform dynamics are also part of the picture. One study found that TikTok’s recommendation system delivered substantially more diet content to users who had indicated eating disorder experiences than to those who had not. Recommendation systems determine what appears in a person’s feed based on patterns of viewing and interaction, which can reinforce existing interests and vulnerabilities.

Other work by researchers in this area has shown how users can become caught in cycles of appearance-focused content online. Research on Instagram and other visual platforms suggests that repeated exposure to diet, beauty and fitness posts can narrow what users see, keeping them within loops of body-related material rather than directing them towards a broader range of interests.

Our interviews add depth to this evidence by showing how these patterns are experienced in everyday life. Participants described moving between recovery content and more harmful material, sometimes within minutes. Several said this constant switching made it harder to disengage from weight-focused thinking, even when they were trying to avoid it.

At the same time, many emphasised the positive role social media played in their recovery. Online content offered reassurance and provided access to experiences and perspectives that were difficult to find offline.

The same platforms that exposed users to triggering material also enabled connection and support. This push-pull dynamic is central to understanding social media’s role in eating disorders. Rather than being purely harmful or beneficial, platforms create environments where supportive and risky content coexist, shaped by both user choices and recommendation systems.




Read more:
Those ‘what I eat in a day’ TikTok videos aren’t helpful. They might even be harmful


NHS survey data indicate that around one in five girls aged 17–19 in England has an eating disorder. This underlines how common these conditions are among young people, who also tend to be heavy users of digital platforms.

These findings raise questions about how social media environments are structured, particularly as governments consider age-based restrictions, such as those introduced in Australia and proposals currently debated in the UK.

We argue our research suggests attempts to make online spaces safer need to go beyond a focus on who can access social media. These efforts need to look at how content is curated and amplified, as platform design and recommendation systems appear to play an important role in shaping exposure.

There are already social media literacy initiatives in schools and elsewhere that aim to help young people critically evaluate idealised body images. Strengthening these programmes to include greater understanding of how recommendation systems work could help users better navigate environments where supportive and harmful content can appear side by side.

As Meta, YouTube and TikTok face lawsuits alleging that aspects of their platform design encourage compulsive use, debates about regulation are likely to intensify. The experiences described in our research suggest that, for people vulnerable to eating disorders, what matters is not simply time spent online, but how feeds are structured and how difficult it can be to avoid appearance-focused material once it enters the algorithmic loop.

The Conversation

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

ref. How social media draws vulnerable users back to eating disorder content – new research – https://theconversation.com/how-social-media-draws-vulnerable-users-back-to-eating-disorder-content-new-research-275975