¿Es el kéfir mejor que el yogur para nuestra salud intestinal?

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Laura Isabel Arellano García, Investigadora predoctoral del Grupo Nutrición y Obesidad del Centro de Investigación Biomédica en Red de la Fisiopatología de la Obesidad y Nutrición (CiberObn), Universidad del País Vasco / Euskal Herriko Unibertsitatea

xamnesiacx84/Shutterstock

En los últimos años, los alimentos fermentados han ganado una gran popularidad, en especial el kéfir. Pero ¿sabemos realmente qué es y qué lo distingue del yogur tradicional?

Qué es un alimento fermentado y por qué es beneficioso

Empecemos por entender bien qué es un alimento fermentado. Los alimentos fermentados son aquellos que se obtienen por medio del crecimiento de microorganismos beneficiosos. Estos microorganismos se incluyen en una matriz alimentaria y utilizan distintos componentes de la misma para crecer. Por ejemplo, en el caso del yogur, la matriz sería la leche, y el azúcar (lactosa) constituiría uno de los componentes que utilizan los microorganismos para crecer.

Lejos de ser un “invento” de la industria actual, llevan con nosotros miles de años. Entre ellos se incluyen algunos alimentos en los que los microorganismos siguen vivos cuando son ingeridos (como yogur, kéfir o tempeh), y otros en los que han sido inactivados o retirados (pan, vegetales fermentados o salsa de soja).

Su ingesta ha demostrado tener numerosos beneficios para la salud: reducen los niveles de colesterol en sangre, aumentan la capacidad de respuesta inmune, protegen contra patógenos y reducen el riesgo de padecer obesidad, entre otros.

Estos beneficios parecen derivar de moléculas bioactivas secretadas por los microorganismos fermentadores en el proceso de producción. Además, dado que algunos de estos alimentos contienen microorganismos vivos, también poseen propiedades probióticas.

Kéfir y yogur: dos fermentados parecidos, pero no iguales

El kéfir y el yogur suelen agruparse bajo la misma etiqueta de “lácteos fermentados”, y no es raro pensar que el kéfir es simplemente un yogur más líquido. Sin embargo, aunque comparten ciertas características, son productos distintos, tanto en su composición microbiana como en sus efectos sobre la salud.

La principal diferencia entre el yogur y el kéfir está en cómo se fermentan. El yogur es un producto obtenido mediante la fermentación láctica, llevada a cabo por las bacterias Lactobacillus delbrueckii subsp. bulgaricus y Streptococcus thermophilus. Estos microorganismos transforman la lactosa de la leche en ácido láctico, lo que da lugar a su textura espesa y a su sabor suave y ligeramente ácido.

El kéfir, en cambio, se produce mediante una fermentación mucho más compleja, conocida como lacto-alcohólica. En ella participan no solo bacterias lácticas, sino también levaduras. Por eso, además de ácido láctico, se generan pequeñas cantidades de dióxido de carbono y etanol, responsables de la presencia de burbujas y de un contenido alcohólico mínimo, normalmente inferior al 0,5 %.

Más diversidad de bacterias en el kéfir

Otra de las diferencias básicas es la diversidad de microorganismos que contiene cada producto. El yogur alberga un número reducido de cepas bacterianas, lo que lo convierten en producto muy estable y estandarizable, ideal para la producción industrial. La regulación legal del yogur exige que haya, al menos, 10⁷ unidades formadoras de colonias bacterianas viables por gramo o mililitro en el producto final.

Sin embargo, los gránulos de kéfir (producto de partida en la fermentación) presentan una comunidad microbiana más diversa y compleja, que varía entre 30 y 50 especies dependiendo del origen. Esto hace del kéfir un alimento más diverso microbiológicamente y menos uniforme.

En estudios recientes, se ha comprobado que la ingesta diaria tanto de yogur como de kéfir favorece un aumento en la abundancia relativa de bacterias de los géneros Lactobacillus y Bifidobacterium, reconocidos como beneficiosos para la salud intestinal.

Sin embargo, es importante destacar que las modificaciones en la abundancia de bacterias beneficiosas son transitorias y dependen del consumo continuado y de que éste se acompañe de una dieta variada y rica en prebióticos.

El kéfir se digiere mejor

En cuanto a su digestión, ambos productos son más fáciles de digerir que la leche, ya que parte de la lactosa se consume durante la fermentación. No obstante, el kéfir suele contener aún menos lactosa residual, lo que hace que muchas personas con intolerancia a este nutriente lo toleren mejor que el yogur.

Finalmente, y, en relación con la composición en micronutrientes, no existen diferencias significativas en el contenido de calcio del yogur frente al del kéfir. Curiosamente, el contenido en vitaminas sí que puede variar, tanto en el yogur como en el kéfir, durante el proceso de fermentación. Por ejemplo, la cantidad de folato (vitamina B9) aumenta en el yogur debido a la síntesis bacteriana, mientras que la de cobalamina (vitamina B12) no varía.

Kéfir vs yogur: ¿es uno realmente mejor que el otro?

No se puede decir que uno sea mejor que el otro de forma tajante. Mientras que el yogur destaca por la estabilidad de su composición, suavidad y textura, el kéfir sobresale por su diversidad microbiana. Sin embargo, ambos aportan microorganismos beneficiosos que pueden contribuir al equilibrio de la microbiota intestinal y a una buena salud digestiva.

Dado que los alimentos fermentados ofrecen una opción muy interesante a nivel nutricional, en lugar de elegir, quizás lo más recomendable sea consumir más variedad, lo que enriquecerá la composición de nuestra microbiota a la vez que disfrutamos de una dieta equilibrada y diversa.

The Conversation

Las personas firmantes no son asalariadas, ni consultoras, ni poseen acciones, ni reciben financiación de ninguna compañía u organización que pueda obtener beneficio de este artículo, y han declarado carecer de vínculos relevantes más allá del cargo académico citado anteriormente.

ref. ¿Es el kéfir mejor que el yogur para nuestra salud intestinal? – https://theconversation.com/es-el-kefir-mejor-que-el-yogur-para-nuestra-salud-intestinal-274214

Cómo enseñar matemáticas para desarrollar un pensamiento flexible y creativo

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Daniel Martín-Cudero, Profesor del área de Didáctica de la Matemática, Universidad Rey Juan Carlos

Jose Luis Carrascosa/Shutterstock

Durante generaciones, aprender matemáticas ha significado seguir reglas estrictas, memorizar fórmulas y buscar la única respuesta correcta. Esta forma de enseñanza, aunque útil para ciertos contextos, puede hacer que las matemáticas resulten poco accesibles e incluso intimidantes para muchas personas.

Pero existe otra manera de mirar las matemáticas: como un espacio de exploración, donde se pueden probar caminos distintos, hacer suposiciones, estimar y pensar de forma flexible. Esta forma de abordar los problemas es la base de la “flexibilidad matemática”.

¿Qué es la flexibilidad matemática?

La flexibilidad matemática es, pues, la habilidad de conocer diferentes maneras de resolver un mismo problema y de elegir la más adecuada según el contexto. Más allá de si una respuesta es correcta o incorrecta, lo fundamental es comprender el proceso que lleva a la solución final.

No se trata solo de saber muchos métodos, sino de saber cuándo, cómo y por qué aplicar uno u otro. Esto permite un aprendizaje más profundo y reconoce las múltiples formas de pensar que existen en matemáticas.

Este tipo de razonamiento es hoy una pieza clave en la competencia matemática y está estrechamente ligado al desarrollo del pensamiento crítico, la creatividad y la capacidad de adaptarse a nuevas situaciones.

¿Cómo se enseña?

Una forma eficaz de desarrollar la flexibilidad matemática es incentivando la estimación y el cálculo mental. Estas prácticas invitan a los estudiantes a pensar con agilidad, tomar decisiones rápidas, razonar con cantidades aproximadas y encontrar soluciones prácticas sin depender siempre de algoritmos o fórmulas conocidas.

También es esencial enseñar a cambiar de estrategia cuando la primera no funciona. Imaginemos que estamos tratando de resolver un rompecabezas, y empezamos por armar los bordes. Si vemos que no avanzamos, podemos cambiar de método y agrupar piezas del mismo color para formar una parte concreta del dibujo.

Lo mismo ocurre en matemáticas. Si un alumno intenta resolver un problema aplicando una fórmula y el resultado que obtiene no tiene sentido o no se ajusta al contexto del problema, puede probar otras vías. Por ejemplo, representar el problema gráficamente, buscar un caso más simple, usar el ensayo y error, o descomponerlo en partes más manejables.

Esta capacidad de adaptarse permite a los estudiantes ver los errores como una oportunidad para fortalecer su comprensión matemática.

Por supuesto, conectar las matemáticas con situaciones reales del día a día es también especialmente valioso. Cuando los estudiantes pueden modelar problemas reales, comprenden mejor para qué sirve pensar con flexibilidad y perciben las matemáticas como algo útil y cercano. Esto hace que el aprendizaje sea más significativo, duradero y motivador.




Leer más:
¡Yo también soy buena en matemáticas! Esta es la manera de enseñar que cambia actitudes


¿Por qué es importante enseñarla?

Promover la flexibilidad matemática en el aula no solo mejora el rendimiento académico, sino que también profundiza en la comprensión de los conceptos y desarrolla la capacidad de transferir ese conocimiento a contextos diversos.

Este enfoque rompe con la creencia de que solo hay una manera correcta de resolver un ejercicio, lo que reduce la frustración y la ansiedad asociadas a las matemáticas. También favorece que más personas se sientan capaces de participar, experimentar y aprender.

Desde una perspectiva más amplia, enseñar flexibilidad también contribuye a formar personas con capacidad para adaptarse a los cambios, evaluar situaciones con criterio y resolver problemas complejos.




Leer más:
No basta con saber matemáticas para enseñarlas bien


Un ejemplo con geometría

¿Cómo podemos enseñar a los futuros docentes a aprovechar esta flexibilidad de las matemáticas? Durante el curso académico 2024-2025, se propuso el siguiente ejercicio a estudiantes de la asignatura Matemáticas y su Didáctica III del Grado en Educación Primaria:

La zona pavimentada de la imagen 1 está formada por nueve losas, cada una de las cuales tiene en el centro una rejilla metálica. ¿Qué porcentaje del área total corresponde a rejillas?

Imagen 1: zona pavimentada compuesta por siete losas que contienen una rejilla metálica. Campus de Fuenlabrada de la Universidad Rey Juan Carlos (URJC).

Al enfrentarse al problema, algunos estudiantes optaron por calcular el porcentaje utilizando únicamente las áreas de una sola losa y su correspondiente rejilla. Este enfoque se basa en una observación clave: todas las losas son idénticas en forma y tamaño, al igual que sus rejillas. Por tanto, calcular el porcentaje que ocupa la rejilla en una losa individual permite obtener directamente el porcentaje de área cubierta por rejillas en todo el conjunto. Se trata de una repetición exacta del mismo patrón.

Por ejemplo, si una rejilla mide 0,5 m × 0,5 m y la losa mide 1 m × 1 m, entonces la rejilla ocupa 0,25 m² y la losa 1 m², lo que implica que cada rejilla representa un 25 % del área de su losa. Como todas son iguales, ese mismo 25 % se mantiene constante en las nueve losas. Así, el porcentaje de área ocupada por las rejillas en todo el conjunto también será del 25 %.

Otros estudiantes, sin embargo, prefirieron calcular el porcentaje considerando el área total pavimentada y la suma del área de todas las rejillas. Esta estrategia es más laboriosa, ya que requiere sumar todas las áreas una a una, pero también aporta un mayor nivel de rigurosidad y verificación, al calcular el área total del conjunto de losas y compararla con el área total ocupada por las rejillas. Este método es especialmente útil en contextos en los que las piezas no son todas iguales o hay pequeñas variaciones.

Suponer que todas las losas son iguales y hacer los cálculos con una sola de ellas es, en este caso, la mejor estrategia para una estimación rápida: reduce significativamente el número de cálculos necesarios sin comprometer la precisión del resultado. Sin embargo, utilizar las áreas totales permite comprobar y justificar con mayor rigor los cálculos. Ambos enfoques son válidos, pero responden a distintas necesidades: uno prioriza la eficiencia y el otro la precisión del resultado.

Imagen 2: estudiantes midiendo el lado de una de las rejillas con una cinta métrica.

Se puede observar en las imágenes 2 y 3 cómo los estudiantes están midiendo los lados desde el interior en vez de hacerlo entre vértices contiguos. Este es un error común al tomar medidas en geometría, ya que puede dar como resultado una medida mayor a la real si la cinta métrica no se coloca completamente paralela al lado que se desea medir.

Este detalle no tiene por qué ser un problema si el objetivo es hacer una estimación, pero sí afecta cuando se busca un cálculo exacto. Reflexionar sobre este tipo de errores y sus consecuencias constituye una oportunidad didáctica para trabajar la flexibilidad matemática, adaptando las estrategias de medición al propósito concreto: estimar, comparar o calcular con rigor.

El poder de los problemas abiertos

Una de las formas más efectivas de enseñar flexibilidad matemática es a través de los llamados problemas abiertos. A diferencia de los problemas tradicionales, estos no tienen una única solución exacta ni un único procedimiento para resolverlos.

Dentro de esta categoría se encuentran los conocidos problemas de Fermi. Estos retos, inspirados en el físico italiano Enrico Fermi, invitan a estimar, asumir datos razonables y diseñar estrategias creativas para llegar a una solución aproximada.

Por ejemplo:

¿Cuántas pelotas de tenis caben en un aula?

Resolverlo implica estimar el volumen del aula, calcular el volumen de una pelota y suponer cómo se distribuirían dentro del espacio. Incluso hay que tomar decisiones: ¿rellenamos todo como si fuera un bloque sólido o consideramos los huecos entre pelotas? No importa tanto el resultado exacto como el razonamiento y las suposiciones que se hagan.

Otros ejemplos de este tipo pueden ser:

  1. ¿Cuántos granos de arroz caben en una taza?

  2. ¿Cuántos pasos das para ir de casa al colegio?

  3. ¿Cuántas personas cabrían en el patio del colegio si todos se colocaran de pie, uno al lado del otro?

Todos estos problemas obligan a estimar, justificar y simplificar. Por eso, tienen tanto valor en la enseñanza: ofrecen al alumnado un contexto en el que pueden comparar estrategias, explorar distintos caminos y descubrir que pensar de una forma diferente también es una forma válida y valiosa de hacer matemáticas.




Leer más:
La selección: problemas con los números y problemas matemáticos


Más allá del aula

Promover la flexibilidad matemática no es únicamente una estrategia educativa: es una apuesta por formar personas más creativas, analíticas y adaptables. Personas que no se bloquean ante lo desconocido, que se atreven a probar diferentes caminos y que saben que equivocarse también es parte del proceso de aprender.

Cuando enseñamos a pensar en matemáticas y no solo a calcular, les damos a los estudiantes una herramienta poderosa para enfrentarse, además de a los ejercicios escolares, a los problemas del mundo real.

The Conversation

Daniel Martín-Cudero no recibe salario, ni ejerce labores de consultoría, ni posee acciones, ni recibe financiación de ninguna compañía u organización que pueda obtener beneficio de este artículo, y ha declarado carecer de vínculos relevantes más allá del cargo académico citado.

ref. Cómo enseñar matemáticas para desarrollar un pensamiento flexible y creativo – https://theconversation.com/como-ensenar-matematicas-para-desarrollar-un-pensamiento-flexible-y-creativo-266017

Why are new tea towels worse at drying dishes than older ones?

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Rebecca Van Amber, Senior Lecturer in Fashion & Textiles, RMIT University

Anna Shvets/Pexels

There’s a peculiar ritual in many kitchens: reaching past the crisp, pristine tea towel hanging on the oven door to grab the threadbare, slightly greying one shoved in the drawer.

We all know that old faithful dries dishes better, even if we can’t quite explain why. It seems counter-intuitive – shouldn’t brand new towels, fresh from the packaging, outperform their worn-out predecessors?

Yet here we are, instinctively choosing the frayed over the fresh.

This isn’t just kitchen superstition. There’s genuine science behind why your tea towels actually improve with age, and understanding it might change how you think about all your household textiles.

The science of soaking it up

Tea towels are typically made from cotton or linen fibres, chosen specifically because these natural cellulose fibres are inherently hygroscopic, or water-loving.

But fibre type alone doesn’t determine how well your towel performs. A textile’s absorption is the result of a complex interplay between fibre, yarn, fabric structure, and any finishes applied during manufacturing.

Textiles absorb and hold water in two key places: within the fibre structure itself, and in the spaces between fibres and yarns. This is why fabric structure matters so much.

Think about bath towels – when was the last time you used a smooth, thin one? Bath towels are typically thick terry pile construction with lots of small loops on the surface. These loops dramatically increase surface area, allowing water to be easily wicked into the fabric.

Close-up of a multicoloured striped towel.
The loops on terry fabric are what makes bath towels so absorbent by trapping moisture in the fibres.
Lindsay Lyon/Unsplash

Tea towels come in various constructions: plain weave, twill weave, waffle cloth, or terry. Plain weave towels – the kind you see with printed designs – require a smooth surface for clean, crisp screen printing.

Waffle cloth, which looks exactly as its name suggests, has a three-dimensional texture that makes it incredibly effective. Like with terry towels, this structure increases surface area and enhances water absorption.

Why old beats new

So what makes your battered old tea towel superior to its pristine replacement? Three key factors are at play.

Silicone finishes. Many brand-new textiles arrive coated in silicone softeners that provide softness and wrinkle resistance, making them appealing on store shelves.

But here’s the catch: these same finishes are often water resistant. Your brand new tea towel may literally have a water-repellent coating. The fix is simple – always wash new tea towels in hot water before first use.

The impact of laundering. Fabrics undergo significant changes during their first several washes – typically up to six cycles. During manufacturing, whether knitted or woven, fabrics are held under tension. Washing causes the yarns to relax in what’s called “relaxation shrinkage”, reverting to their natural, tension-free state. Industry typically tolerates up to 5% shrinkage.

Here’s where it gets interesting: while your tea towel’s dimensions may shrink slightly, its mass stays the same, meaning the fabric becomes thicker and denser. In waffle weave towels, this shrinkage can make the three-dimensional texture more pronounced, increasing surface geometry and absorption. This phenomenon has been documented in terry bath towels, as well.

A slightly ratty waffle cloth towel on a counter.
The geometry of a waffle cloth makes it really absorbent.
022 873/Unsplash

Fabric ageing. Repeated washing and drying causes minor surface damage that actually improves performance. Small fibres gradually raise up from the fabric surface, creating a fluffier, “hairier” texture.

Really smooth tea towels aren’t very absorbent because water struggles to wet the surface – it can almost bead up due to the contact angle between water and the smooth fabric.

But as washing raises more fibres off the surface making a “rougher” textile, the contact angle decreases, making the fabric easier to wet. Waffle fabrics, with their irregular surfaces, are inherently more absorbent from the start due to favourable contact angles.

In short: washing leads to more surface texture, leading to better absorption.

Not just tea towels

The real revelation here isn’t just about tea towels – it’s about how we think about textiles in general.

That “worn in” feeling we associate with our favourite bath towels, tea towels and even bed linens isn’t just nostalgia. Many of our home textiles are genuinely performing better after repeated laundering, having shed their factory finishes and relaxed into their true structure.

So before you send your old tea towels off for recycling to replace with new ones, remember: those frayed edges and faded patterns represent months of your towel becoming exactly what it was meant to be.

And when you do buy new household textiles, wash them at least once before using to remove any residual finishes.

The Conversation

Rebecca Van Amber is a chartered member of The Textile Institute.

ref. Why are new tea towels worse at drying dishes than older ones? – https://theconversation.com/why-are-new-tea-towels-worse-at-drying-dishes-than-older-ones-271852

How watching videos of ICE violence affects our mental health

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Larissa Hjorth, Professor of Mobile Media and Games., RMIT University

The recent murders of Minneapolis residents Alex Pretti and Renee Nicole Good are drawing renewed attention to the activities of United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents.

While they are not the only people to have been killed by ICE agents, first-hand videos of the events of their death have made us all witness to the extreme violence being carried out in the US.

Multiple versions of the footage went viral globally, capturing the world’s palpable sense of injustice. These videos demonstrate how mobile media is transforming each of us into a new kind of witness to suffering.

We need to find new ways to process such collective trauma and channel it toward meaningful action.

Why some deaths grip the world

Every day, we are exposed to loss, grief and death through our mobile phones. The distance between the participant and the observer – between the mourner and the witness – collapses. This is what scholars call “affective witnessing”. The rise of social media, body cam technology and surveillance media have all driven this phenomenon.

As we watch viral footage of tragic events, the boundaries between the emotions of the recording witness and our own merge. We feel their grief in our bodies, and become witnesses by extension.

All witnessing is “affective” – meaning it stays in our bodies, hearts and minds. But there is a particular intensity that comes with mobile media witnessing, since our phones live in our pockets, in an especially intimate space we can’t always distance ourselves from.

Cultural studies scholar Judith Butler notes that in the case of war and violence, grief is not just personal – it’s social, cultural and political. Butler argues that when grief goes public (such as through social media), inequalities are magnified. Some losses become more visible and “grievable” than others.




Read more:
Images from Gaza have shocked the world – but the ‘spectacle of suffering’ is a double-edged sword


In recent years, we have increasingly witnessed through social media what death researcher Darcy Harris calls “political grief”.

Political grief encompasses the collective loss and mourning felt by communities facing systemic injustice (including non-death related). It can take the form of emotional, psychological and spiritual distress arising from certain events, policies, and ideologies.

All of the violent ICE incidents reported in the US are deeply embedded in a sense of political grief being felt across the world. They prompt the lingering question: “Is this the future of the world?”

From text messages to TikTok

From its outset, mobile media has played an important role in making political grief visible and providing systems for collective action.

From its 2G beginnings, mobile media has been used in “people power” political revolutions. For instance in 2001, text messaging was used in the Philippines to mobilise protesters to demand the removal of then president Joseph Estrada.

More recently, footage of the 2020 murder of George Floyd by the Minneapolis police had global ramifications. As cultural studies scholars Andrew Brooks and Michael Richardson note, the affected body of the Floyd witness who filmed the video represents

both the intensity of the event and the embodied experience of the witness, establishing a relation between the two.

Brooks and Richardson call this “embodied affective witnessing”, whereby the victim, the first-hand witness and their online audience all become implicated.

At the same time, mobile media can be a weapon when used by a state as a form of surveillance technology.

What do we do with what we can’t unsee?

In a space where the distance between mourner and witness is vanishing, digital “grief literacy” is needed.

Psychologist Lauren Breen and colleagues describe this as finding ways to identify and normalise respectful conversations about grief, mourning and loss that connect to hope and social change.

In the context of distressing ICE footage, this could look like

  • pausing before re-sharing graphic material, and considering who might be affected
  • seeking out safe spaces for processing political grief
  • channelling distress into tangible real-world action, such as contacting politicians, or supporting affected families.

We also need to understand that we all grieve differently. For two years, we have been investigating how everyday Australians explore grief, loss and mourning via mobile media.

Through interviews with mourners and field experts, we’ve encountered stories ranging from personal bereavement to collective non-death loss, such as ecological grief and political grief.

Many of the people we interviewed developed their own social media strategies to cope with loss on personal and collective scales.

Some chose not to share footage out of concern for their own wellbeing, respect for victims’ dignity, or due to scepticism over what positive real-world impact re-sharing would have.

Others engaged in thoughtful sharing to create spaces for understanding, hope and activism.

But sorting through these feelings shouldn’t fall entirely on individuals. Ultimately, we need better media grief literacy, and ways to hold complex public discussions that address how grief may be dealt with on both an individual and collective level.

The Conversation

Larissa Hjorth is an Australian Research Council Future Fellow (The Mourning After: Grief, witnessing and mobile media practices, FT220100552).

This research is funded by Larissa Hjorth’s Australian Research Council Future Fellowship, The Mourning After. Katrin Gerber is a Research Fellow on this study.

ref. How watching videos of ICE violence affects our mental health – https://theconversation.com/how-watching-videos-of-ice-violence-affects-our-mental-health-275217

Blanchiment d’argent et cryptomonnaie : l’illusion de la transparence de la blockchain

Source: The Conversation – France (in French) – By Jean-Marc Figuet, Professeur d’économie, ISG Lab, Université de Bordeaux

Une adresse publique sur la blockchain se crée en quelques secondes, sans pièce d’identité, avec une clé privée connue uniquement du propriétaire des cryptoactifs. Max Acronym/Shutterstock

Une affirmation revient souvent : les criminels du monde entier utilisent les cryptomonnaies pour blanchir l’argent, en toute impunité. En effet, s’il est facile de tracer les échanges financiers via les blockchains, impossible d’identifier les personnes sans la coopération des acteurs comme Binance, Tether ou les prestataires de paiements. Car sur la blockchain, on peut tout voir sans savoir qui agit.


La promesse des blockchains publiques, comme Bitcoin ou Ethereum, est aussi simple qu’audacieuse : chaque transaction y est enregistrée, horodatée et visible par tous. À première vue, c’est un avantage décisif pour les enquêteurs financiers. À première vue seulement, car cette transparence se révèle souvent trompeuse. Si le registre décentralisé est public, les identités derrière les adresses restent inaccessibles sans intermédiaire.

Publiée en novembre 2025, l’enquête internationale The Coin Laundry (ICIJ) montre comment ce « paradoxe crypto » alimente une économie criminelle mondialisée, et comment l’identification des personnes dépend, en pratique, du bon vouloir d’intermédiaires privés, comme les plateformes (Binance) ou les guichets de conversion crypto-to-cash desks. Ces guichets sont des opérateurs, tels que Huione Guarantee ou Tether Operations Limited, souvent localisés dans des paradis fiscaux. Ces derniers convertissent des cryptoactifs en monnaie fiduciaire – euros, dollars – ou en actifs tangibles – or, immobilier – sans vérification systématique d’identité.

On peut tout voir sans savoir qui agit. Car la blockchain affiche seulement des transferts de crypto, pas des identités. Cet écart entre la traçabilité technique et la responsabilité juridique permet aux réseaux criminels de prospérer ; la transparence des flux ne garantit ni l’identification des acteurs, ni l’effectivité des contrôles.

Alors, comment concrètement ces transactions fonctionnent-elles ?

Piège de la pseudonymie

Sur une blockchain publique, l’unité de base n’est pas l’individu, mais l’adresse publique, c’est-à-dire une suite de caractères. Par exemple, 1A1zP1eP5QGefi2DMPTfTL5SLmv**** sur la blockchain Bitcoin. Cette adresse publique se crée en quelques secondes, sans pièce d’identité, en quantité illimitée. Elle est associée à une clé privée, par exemple L5oLkpXH3Z55rVgQv8gQJQ5v9X8fLpW7tQeNqW3TbKbYsZ1P**** qui elle, n’est connue que du propriétaire des cryptoactifs.

Les réseaux criminels exploitent cette pseudonymie en multipliant les adresses, en fragmentant les montants et en automatisant les transferts via des « services » variés – mixing, swaps décentralisés ou bridges. Le plus connu est le mixing, utilisé pour brouiller les traces des transactions en crypto.

Le mixing, une technique utilisée pour brouiller les traces des transactions sur une blockchain, suit un process complexe :
  • 1. Le dépôt des fonds : un utilisateur envoie ses crypto à une adresse pool gérée par un service de mixing, comme Tornado Cash.
  • 2. Le mélange des fonds : le service mélange ces crypto avec celles d’autres utilisateurs.
  • 3. La redistribution des fonds : après un délai aléatoire, le service renvoie les fonds, mais provenant d’autres adresses, vers une nouvelle adresse désignée par l’utilisateur, ce qui rend impossible le suivi des fonds originaux.

Le mixeur Tornado Cash a permis le blanchiment de plusieurs milliards de dollars en 2022 et 2023, dont certains directement liés à des cyberattaques et des ransomwares. En 2022, le groupe Lazarus, lié à la Corée du Nord, a utilisé un mixeur pour blanchir 615 millions de dollars (plus de 520 millions d’euros) volés lors du piratage du jeu Axie Infinity. Les hackers ont subtilisé des Ethereum (ETH) et les ont envoyés à Tornado Cash qui a fragmenté puis redistribué ces ETH vers des centaines d’adresses différentes, rendant le suivi impossible. Les fonds ont ensuite été convertis en monnaie fiduciaire via des guichets asiatiques ou réinvestis dans des casinos en ligne.

Relier une adresse à une identité

Les cellules de renseignements publiques comme Tracfin en France, Europol dans l’Union européenne, ou privées telles que Chainanalysis utilisée par le FBI ou Interpol peuvent identifier des schémas de blanchiment sur la blockchain. Mais relier une adresse à une identité relève de la seule volonté de l’intermédiaire.

Un exemple rapporté par l’ICIJ illustre ce piège. Entre juillet 2024 et juillet 2025, des adresses associées au groupe cambodgien Huione ont transféré au moins 408 millions de dollars (345,8 millions d’euros) en stablecoins USDT vers des comptes clients sur Binance. Ces transactions se sont poursuivies malgré le classement d’Huione en tant qu’entité majeure de blanchiment d’argent, ou primary money laundering concern, dès le 1er mai 2025, par le Financial Crimes Enforcement Network, un département du Trésor américain.

La visibilité des transactions n’est pas en cause. Ce qui l’est, c’est la difficulté à convertir cette visibilité en attribution fiable et en action rapide, comme le gel, la saisie ou les poursuites.

Les intermédiaires, le talon d’Achille de la traçabilité

Tant que les fonds en cryptomonnaie restent dans la blockchain (« on-chain »), leur traçabilité est totale. En revanche, dès que les fonds sortent de la blockchain (« off-chain ») par une conversion en monnaie légale ou l’achat d’actifs financiers… tout dépend des intermédiaires (plateformes, prestataires de paiement…). Ces derniers jouent un rôle comparable à celui de douaniers. Eux seuls peuvent relier une adresse à une identité, condition indispensable pour déclencher une action judiciaire.




À lire aussi :
Comment les trafiquants de cocaïne blanchissent l’argent des cartels


L’enquête de l’ICIJ insiste sur une réalité moins technologique qu’institutionnelle. Même lorsque des signaux d’alerte existent, la réaction des intermédiaires peut être tardive, incomplète ou absente. Leur activité demeure structurée par un modèle économique fondé sur les volumes et les frais.

Binance, la principale plateforme, a généré plus de 17 milliards de dollars (14,4 milliards d’euros) de commissions sur les transactions en 2023. Cela crée une tension durable entre la croissance des flux, génératrice de revenus, et la traque des flux illicites. Comme le secret bancaire suisse dans les années 1990, les intermédiaires crypto aujourd’hui privilégient la rentabilité à court terme au détriment de la lutte contre la criminalité financière.

La différence ? Leur modèle est encore plus difficile à réguler, car il repose sur une technologie conçue pour contourner les contrôles.

Trois obstacles se cumulent.

Complexité technique

Les fonds peuvent changer de libellé, circuler via des services de swaps qui permettent d’échanger instantanément une cryptomonnaie contre une autre, franchir des ponts entre blockchains, ou emprunter des infrastructures décentralisées. Chaque étape n’efface pas la trace, mais multiplie les embranchements, donc les hypothèses, et accroît la difficulté probatoire.

Fragmentation juridique

Les plateformes, les prestataires et les serveurs sont dispersés géographiquement. L’entraide judiciaire internationale est lente. Et certaines juridictions sont peu coopératives, notamment dans les paradis fiscaux.

Asymétries économique et temporelle

Un criminel peut créer une nouvelle adresse en quelques clics alors qu’un enquêteur doit engager des procédures multiples dont l’issue est incertaine. L’ICIJ souligne l’émergence de crypto-to-cash desks qui permettent de convertir de grosses sommes de crypto en cash, avec des contrôles variables.

Un indicateur aide à saisir l’ampleur du phénomène. Pour 2024, l’Internet Crime Complaint Center du FBI estime à 9,3 milliards de dollars (7,8 milliards d’euros) les pertes déclarées par des victimes de crimes liés aux cryptomonnaies. Au-delà du chiffre, cela dit la vitesse d’adaptation des fraudeurs et la pression sur les capacités d’enquête.

La régulation européenne en progrès

L’Union européenne a créé deux instruments majeurs pour renforcent la traçabilité aux points d’entrée et de sortie du système régulé.

Le règlement européen Markets in Crypto-Assets, dit MiCA encadre les prestataires de services sur crypto-actifs via un régime d’autorisation depuis le 30 décembre 2024. Il crée de fait des exigences de gouvernance et des obligations de conformité.




À lire aussi :
Comment les trafiquants de cocaïne blanchissent l’argent des cartels


La règle du « voyage des fonds » (règlement UE 2023/1113) impose, depuis le 30 décembre 2024, que certaines informations accompagnent les transferts afin de réduire l’opacité des flux dans les circuits régulés.

Leurs limites sont intrinsèques. Ils ne couvrent ni les échanges de pair à pair qui se réalisent sans intermédiaire (via des groupes Telegram), ni les plateformes offshore, localisées dans des paradis fiscaux, ni les portefeuilles auto-hébergés (MetaMask, Ledger…) où l’utilisateur contrôle seul ses clés.

En clair, la réglementation sécurise le pont sans combler les fossés.

La transparence ne suffit pas

Affirmer que « la blockchain est transparente » est un leurre. Cette transparence ne porte que sur les mouvements de fonds, jamais sur les acteurs et sur leur identité. La lutte contre le blanchiment se joue aux marges du système, c’est-à-dire dans la rigueur des contrôles Know Your Customer, la réactivité des plateformes, et la coopération internationale.

Trois priorités semblent aujourd’hui s’imposer :

  • harmoniser les règles pour éviter l’arbitrage entre des juridictions permissives et d’autres, strictes ;

  • doter les enquêteurs de moyens techniques et juridiques adaptés ;

  • sanctionner réellement les intermédiaires défaillants, afin de transformer la transparence en responsabilité.

Au vu de l’expérience de la coopération internationale pour lutter contre les paradis fiscaux, on peut supposer que le chemin sera, sans nul doute, périlleux pour atteindre ces priorités. Sans elles, la blockchain restera un registre ouvert où les criminels savent tourner les pages sans y laisser leur nom.

The Conversation

Jean-Marc Figuet ne travaille pas, ne conseille pas, ne possède pas de parts, ne reçoit pas de fonds d’une organisation qui pourrait tirer profit de cet article, et n’a déclaré aucune autre affiliation que son organisme de recherche.

ref. Blanchiment d’argent et cryptomonnaie : l’illusion de la transparence de la blockchain – https://theconversation.com/blanchiment-dargent-et-cryptomonnaie-lillusion-de-la-transparence-de-la-blockchain-273051

When AI goes haywire: the case of the skyscraper and the slide trombone

Source: The Conversation – France – By Frédéric Prost, Maître de conférences en informatique, INSA Lyon – Université de Lyon

AI-generated images, in response to the prompt: “Draw me a skyscraper and a sliding trombone side-by-side so that I can appreciate their respective sizes” (left by ChatGPT, right by Gemini) CC BY

Artificial Intelligence (AI) is now part of our everyday life. It is perceived as “intelligence” and yet relies fundamentally on statistics. Its results are based on previously learned patterns in data. As soon as we move away from the subject matter it has learned, we’re faced with the fact that there isn’t much that is intelligent about it. A simple question, such as “Draw me a skyscraper and a sliding trombone side-by-side so that I can appreciate their respective sizes” will give you something like this (this image has been generated by Gemini):

This example was generated by Google’s model, Gemini, but generative AI dates back to the launch of ChatGPT in November 2022 and is in fact only three years old. The technology has changed the world and is unprecedented in its adoption rate. Currently, 800 million users rely on ChatGPT every week to complete various tasks, according to OpenAI. Note that the number of requests tanks during the school holidays. Even though it’s hard to get hold of precise figures, this goes to show how widespread AI usage has become. Around one in two students regularly uses AI.

AI: essential technology or a gimmick?

Three years is both long and short. It’s long in a field where technology is constantly changing, and short when it comes to social impacts. And while we’re only just starting to understand how to use AI, its place in society has yet to be defined – just as AI’s image in popular culture has yet to be established. We’re still wavering between extreme positions: AI is going to outsmart human beings or, on the contrary, it’s merely a useless piece of shiny technology.

Indeed, a new call to pause AI-related research has been issued amid fears of a superintelligent AI. Others promise the earth, with a recent piece calling on younger generations to drop higher education altogether, on the grounds that AI would obliterate university degrees.

AI’s learning limitations amount to a lack of common sense

Ever since generative AI became available, I have been conducting an experiment consisting of asking it to draw two very different objects and then checking out the result. The goal behind these prompts of mine has been to see how the model behaves once it departs from its learning zone. Typically, this looks like a prompt such as ‘Draw me a banana and an aircraft carrier side by side so that we can see the difference in size between the two objects’. This prompt using Mistral gives the following result:

Screenshot of a prompt and the image generated by Mistral AI.
Author provided

I have yet to find a model that produces a result that makes sense. The illustration at the start of the article perfectly captures how this type of AI works and its limitations. The fact that we are dealing with an image makes the system’s limits more tangible than if it were to generate a long text.

What is striking is the outcome’s lack of credibility. Even a 5-year-old toddler would be able to tell that it’s nonsense. It’s all the more shocking that it’s possible to have long complex conversations with the same AIs without the impression of dealing with a stupid machine. Incidentally, such AIs can pass the bar examination or interpret medical results (for example, identifying tumours on a scan) with greater precision than professionals.

Where does the mistake lie?

The first thing to note is that it’s tricky to know exactly what’s in front of us. Although AIs’ theoretical components are well known, a project such as Gemini – much like models such as ChatGPT, Grok, Mistral, Claude, etc. – is a lot more complicated than a simple Machine Learning Lifecycle (MLL) coupled with a diffusion model.

MML are AIs that have been trained on enormous amounts of text and generate a statistical representation of it. In short, the machine is trained to guess the word that will make the most sense from a statistical viewpoint, in response to other words (your prompt).

Diffusion models that are used to generate images work according to a different process. The process of diffusion is based on notions from thermodynamics: you take an image (or a soundtrack) and you add random noise (snow on a screen) until the image disappears. You then teach a neuronal network to reverse that process by presenting these images in the opposite order to the noise addition. This random aspect explains why the same prompt generates different images.

Another point to consider is that these prompts are constantly evolving, which explains why the same prompt will not produce the same results from one day to the next. Changes might be brought manually to singular cases in order to respond to user feedback, for example.

As a physician, I will thus simplify the problem and consider we’re dealing with a diffusion model. These models are trained on image-text pairs. It is therefore safe to assume that Gemini and Mistral models have been trained on dozens (or possibly hundreds) of thousands and images of skyscrapers (or aircraft carriers) on the one hand, and on a large mass of slide trombones on the other – typically, close-ups of slide trombones. It is very unlikely that these two objects are represented together in the learning material. Hence, the model doesn’t have a clue about these objects’ relative dimensions.

Models lack ‘understanding’

Such examples go to show how models have no internal representation or understanding of the world. The sentence ‘to compare their sizes’ proves that there is no understanding of what is written by machines. In fact, models have no internal representation of what “compare” means other than the texts in which the term has been used. Thus, any comparison between concepts that do not feature in the learning material will produce the same kinds of results as the illustrations given in the examples above. It will be less visible but just as ridiculous. For example, this interaction with Gemini: ‘Consider this simple question: “Was the day the United States was established a leap year or a normal year?”‘

When consulted with the prefix CoT (Chain of Thought, a recent development in LLMs whose purpose is to break down a complex question into a series of simpler sub-questions), the modern Gemini language model responded: “The United States was established in 1776. 1776 is divisible by 4, but it is not a century year (100 years), so it is a leap year. Therefore, the day the United States was established was in a normal year. ”

It is clear that the model applies the leap year rule correctly, thereby offering a good illustration of the CoT technique, but it draws the wrong conclusion in the final step. These models do not have a logical representation of the world, but only a statistical approach that constantly creates these types of glitches that may seem ‘off the mark’.

This realisation is all the more beneficial given that today, AI writes almost as many articles published on the Internet as humans. So don’t be surprised if you find yourself surprised when reading certain articles.


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The Conversation

Frédéric Prost ne travaille pas, ne conseille pas, ne possède pas de parts, ne reçoit pas de fonds d’une organisation qui pourrait tirer profit de cet article, et n’a déclaré aucune autre affiliation que son organisme de recherche.

ref. When AI goes haywire: the case of the skyscraper and the slide trombone – https://theconversation.com/when-ai-goes-haywire-the-case-of-the-skyscraper-and-the-slide-trombone-272763

Canada is losing track of its wild salmon — just when we need that knowledge most

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Michael Price, Adjunct professor, Department of Biology, Simon Fraser University

Every year, Pacific salmon return from the ocean to the rivers and streams where they were born. These migrations nourish ecosystems, sustain Indigenous cultures and support fisheries that people across Western Canada rely on. Yet something essential has quietly eroded: Canada’s efforts to count wild salmon.

That loss of basic information matters. It becomes especially important at a time when major industrial decisions affecting salmon watersheds are being made more quickly, and with less ecological information than in the past.

Twenty years ago, Canada adopted its Wild Salmon Policy (WSP), a landmark commitment to conserve the genetic and geographic diversity of wild Pacific salmon. At its core was a simple promise: to regularly assess the health of distinct salmon populations so declines could be detected early, and recovery action taken when needed.

Our recent analysis of publicly reported monitoring data shows that this foundation is weakening. Since the WSP was introduced, the number of spawning populations counted each year has declined by roughly one-third, driven largely by the loss of high-quality surveys.

We now lack sufficient publicly available data on nearly half of Canada’s Pacific salmon populations to assess whether they are healthy or at risk. Among those that can be assessed in British Columbia, around 70 per cent are in decline.




Read more:
Habitat loss and over-exploitation are leading to a decline in salmon populations


Why monitoring matters

Counting salmon isn’t bureaucratic box-checking. Salmon are foundational to coastal ecosystems and communities, and spawner counts are one of the simplest and most reliable ways to assess population health.

These data inform researchers and fisheries managers whether populations are stable, declining or recovering, and they underpin difficult decisions: when fisheries must be closed to prevent further harm, or when sustainable openings can support food security and livelihoods.

Without consistent monitoring, managers are forced to make decisions with limited evidence. Warning signs can be missed, and fisheries or habitat degradation may continue while populations quietly decline.

And the timing couldn’t be worse. The erosion of monitoring is occurring just as pressures on salmon are intensifying.

Climate change is warming rivers, altering ocean food webs, increasing the frequency of floods and droughts and reshaping freshwater habitats across Western Canada. In a changing environment, monitoring is the only way to distinguish natural variability from sustained declines.

At the same time, Canada is moving to accelerate industrial development. Recent federal legislation allows faster approval of projects deemed to be in the “national interest.” This push for speed is occurring while federal capacity to monitor salmon ecosystems weakens.

While expediency may be appealing, it carries real environmental risks unless matched by corresponding investment in mitigation and monitoring. When development accelerates while monitoring declines, decisions are increasingly made without a clear picture of what is being put at risk — or how impacts will be detected and addressed once projects are under way.

Data collection needed

The decline in monitoring is not simply the result of shrinking budgets or unavoidable austerity. Over the past two decades, federal investments in other salmon-related programs — such as enhancement and aquaculture development — have consistently exceeded investments in policy targeting salmon conservation.

In 2021, the federal government committed a historic $647 million to salmon conservation through the Pacific Salmon Strategy Initiative. Yet the systematic rebuilding of monitoring programs — the basic data collection needed to assess population health — was not made a central funding priority.

The challenge is likely to intensify. Recent federal budgets have committed to significant cuts to Fisheries and Oceans Canada, the department responsible for fisheries oversight and environmental monitoring. This would likely further constrain the capacity to rebuild monitoring programs.

In plain terms, Canada has not invested in the collection of information needed to know whether conservation efforts are actually working — or where action is most urgently required.

What rebuilding monitoring would look like

Reversing the decline in salmon monitoring is achievable, and relatively inexpensive compared to the costs of recovery once populations collapse.

First, the monitoring infrastructure and systems that allow governments and communities to track salmon populations must be treated as essential public infrastructure.

Second, coverage matters as much as precision. Monitoring more populations consistently, even with imperfect counts, often provides better insight than highly precise estimates at a few sites. Data gaps are far more damaging than moderate uncertainty.

Third, Indigenous-led and community-based monitoring offers a powerful opportunity to rebuild capacity. Many Indigenous nations have deep knowledge of salmon systems and strong stewardship responsibilities. Supporting monitoring partnerships, while respecting Indigenous data governance, can expand coverage, strengthen legitimacy and provide economic opportunities in local communities.




Read more:
Learning from Indigenous knowledge holders on the state and future of wild Pacific salmon


Finally, if governments choose to fast-track major projects, they must strengthen, not weaken, baseline ecological monitoring in affected watersheds. Speed should not come at the expense of understanding.

Canada has a clear framework for conserving wild salmon in the Wild Salmon Policy, but its effectiveness is undermined by low investment in basic monitoring. Without consistent and representative data, it becomes impossible to know what populations are in trouble, whether conservation efforts are working or where action is most urgently needed.

In effect, we are increasingly managing salmon in the dark — with stark consequences for ecosystems, fisheries and communities. Rebuilding broad, representative, monitoring programs is a foundational step that Canada can take to safeguard wild salmon in a time of rapid environmental and industrial change.

If we stop counting salmon, we should not be surprised when they disappear — quietly.

The Conversation

Michael Price is affiliated with SkeenaWild Conservation Trust as the Director of Science, and Adjunct Professor in the Department of Biology at Simon Fraser University.

Jonathan Moore is the principal investigator of the Salmon Watersheds Lab.

ref. Canada is losing track of its wild salmon — just when we need that knowledge most – https://theconversation.com/canada-is-losing-track-of-its-wild-salmon-just-when-we-need-that-knowledge-most-273746

When Valentine’s Day forces a relationship reckoning

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Emily Impett, Professor of Psychology, University of Toronto

For people who have been quietly struggling with doubts about their relationship, the weeks leading up to Valentine’s Day can feel fraught. As Feb. 14 approaches, questions that were once easy to sidestep often become harder to ignore.

In a study that tracked romantic couples over a year, relationships were about 2.5 times more likely to end during the two weeks surrounding Valentine’s Day than during the fall or spring. When researchers accounted for relationship length, prior relationship history and gender, the odds of a breakup during this window were more than five times higher.

At first glance, this timing may seem strange. Why would couples break up just before a holiday devoted to love, connection and commitment?

Other findings from this study reveal that the increase in breakups appeared only among couples who were already struggling, not among those who were stable or getting stronger.

A psychological turning point

These findings suggest that Valentine’s Day functions less like a wrecking ball and more like a spotlight.

For couples who have been struggling for months, Valentine’s Day can bring those feelings into sharper focus, forcing people to confront questions they may have been postponing: Are we happy? Are we moving forward? Is this relationship something I want to celebrate?

Psychologists refer to moments like Valentine’s Day as temporal landmarks: points that divide time into a psychological before and after. They prompt people to take stock of their lives and make decisions they have been postponing. Romantic relationships are no exception.

Rather than creating doubt, these dates tend to accelerate decisions that were already unfolding, turning private uncertainty into a sense that change is overdue.

The pressure to perform

Not all temporal landmarks carry the same emotional weight, however. Valentine’s Day is an unusually ritualized and commercialized landmark. Consumer research shows that the holiday tends to evoke polarized reactions — people are far more likely to either love or loathe Valentine’s Day than to feel neutral about it.

In the weeks leading up to the holiday, advertising, store displays and social media amplify expectations about what counts as love: gifts, effort, public displays and visible commitment. Taking part in the ritual signals commitment and investment in a shared future; opting out can invite questions or disappointment.

In this sense, Valentine’s Day does not just invite reflection — it demands a performance.

This helps explain why breakups often happen before Valentine’s Day rather than after. Ending a relationship afterward can feel deceptive, especially if gifts were exchanged or plans were made. Many people would rather leave than perform romance they no longer feel, or accept gestures that imply a level of commitment they are unsure they can sustain.

That timing reflects a broader tendency to delay difficult decisions around holidays. Ending a relationship is emotionally uncomfortable at the best of times, and research shows people sometimes delay breakups to spare their partner pain. Holidays can intensify that hesitation.

In a nationally representative survey, 22 per cent of American adults said they ended relationships before Valentine’s Day because they did not want their partner to buy them gifts or spend money when they already knew the relationship was ending.

Uncertainty becomes impossible to ignore

The sense of being torn — wanting to avoid hurting a partner while also feeling unable to keep pretending — reflects a state psychologists call ambivalence.

Ambivalence is not indifference; it is the uncomfortable experience of holding competing motivations and emotions at the same time. Many people feel ambivalent long before a relationship ends, even in relationships that look stable from the outside. Research shows that this kind of internal conflict predicts lower satisfaction and greater instability over time.

Valentine’s Day intensifies ambivalence because it transforms private uncertainty into public signalling. Participating in the holiday sends a message that a relationship is intact and future-oriented. Dinner reservations, office flower deliveries and social media posts all carry symbolic weight.

Social comparison can add fuel to the fire. Valentine’s Day makes other people’s relationships unusually visible, often in idealized form. Couples appear everywhere — online and offline — celebrating love with carefully curated gestures. Decades of relationship research show that commitment is shaped not only by how satisfying a relationship is, but by how it compares to expectations and perceived alternatives.

When Valentine’s Day raises the bar for what love is supposed to look like, a relationship already marked by ambivalence can suddenly feel inadequate by contrast.

Not everyone experiences this pressure in the same way. Research shows that people who are uncomfortable with emotional closeness or public displays of romance often find Valentine’s Day especially stressful, which can amplify dissatisfaction and make withdrawal more likely.

Valentine’s Day rarely ends relationships on its own, of course. But it can make months of uncertainty suddenly very real, turning private doubts into decisions that feel urgent and unavoidable.

The Conversation

Emily Impett receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

ref. When Valentine’s Day forces a relationship reckoning – https://theconversation.com/when-valentines-day-forces-a-relationship-reckoning-274898

Northern housing must be built as an integrated ecosystem — by the North, for the North

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Shelagh McCartney, Professor, Urban and Regional Planning, Toronto Metropolitan University

The recently launched Build Canada Homes (BCH) initiative marks the federal government’s most ambitious effort to build affordable homes since the Second World War.

The $13 billion initiative promises a building surge to emulate Canada’s post-war national housing program by doubling the national output of housing.




Read more:
Canada is a suburban nation because of post-Second World War government policy


This effort to aggressively stimulate growth in Canadian affordable housing construction includes the creation of the BCH new national agency working as a developer, rapid construction on public land, innovative modular construction methods and partnerships with private capital to push the pace.

For many Canadians, this may seem like a decisive response to the country’s housing crisis while also promoting Canadian sovereignty during tumultuous relations with the United States and other geopolitical developments.

But for the North, the parallels between the role of housing policy now and in the post-war era should give us pause. The building boom following the Second World War established many of the chronic housing, health and economic challenges northerners face today.

Lessons from the post-war era

Amid Cold War tensions and fears of Soviet encroachment following the Second World War, Canada and the United States moved to militarize and secure the Arctic.

Both countries established weather stations, the Distant Early Warning Line, airbases and other strategic infrastructure to assert sovereignty over the region. This geopolitical anxiety also fuelled Canadian efforts to create or expand permanent northern settlements.

These efforts imposed fixed communities on Indigenous peoples who previously moved seasonally through vast territories in patterns shaped by ecological knowledge and deep relationships with the land. This was often pursued through forced or incentivized relocations, reshaping Indigenous mobility and ways of life.

This push to secure the North was accompanied by a rapid expansion of federal housing initiatives in the 1950s and ‘60s to meet national housing strategies. Southern-style houses were imported into the North, detached from northern cultures, landscapes and climates, and administered through colonial governance structures.

Construction of these homes relied on southern labour and materials, leaving communities with buildings but not the authority, tools or training needed to construct or maintain them. Rather than recognize and learn from the approaches to housing construction and sustainability that northern, Indigenous peoples had been practising for generations, the government sought to impose control and authority through northern housing.

This era laid the groundwork for the housing precarity that northerners continue to feel today. Yet BCH uses the same language and approach — framing housing issues as a crisis, advocating rapid deployment, standardized technologies, reliance on southern supply chains and a short-term time frame. This undermines northerners’ abilities to self-determine and direct their own sustainable housing systems.

A different approach required

The North of 2026 is not the North of 1950. Climate change is accelerating permafrost thaw, reshaping ecosystems and exposing structural vulnerabilities in buildings and infrastructure caused by southern construction methods.

Dependence on imported materials and southern labour is even more unsustainable. Simultaneously, Indigenous Peoples across the North have developed community-led housing strategies, design innovations and governance models that offer powerful alternatives.

A Northern Housing Ecosystem (NHE) approach re-imagines northern housing not as a one-off construction campaign but as an interconnected system involving governance, economy, design, training, maintenance and social well-being.

It aligns with Indigenous-led housing innovations already underway — from the work of the K’asho Got’ine Housing Society and Yellowknives Dene First Nation, to regional training and design initiatives across the North.

The NHE asserts that housing is tied to health, education, economic development, energy use and cultural vitality. Housing cannot be governed within silos; it must be part of a living system.

To support northern housing autonomy and sustainability, BCH must adopt principles rooted in this ecosystem approach.

Principles include promotion of a northern housing economy where housing is collective infrastructure that focuses on community well-being and a sense of home for all northerners, prioritized over a market-based logic.

This fosters housing autonomy via northern and Indigenous control over governance, design, construction, repair and maintenance — the opposite of the dependency system of the post-war era.




Read more:
Housing is health: Coronavirus highlights the dangers of the housing crisis in Canada’s North


A sustainable northern housing future

The foundational question should no longer be: How many houses can we deliver quickly? Instead, it must be: How can we build a sustainable northern housing future?

This requires structural change in housing delivery. Short-term federal funding cycles and crisis-framing create pressure to spend and build quickly. That results in prioritizing communities with more administrative capacity, risks reinforcing inequities and rushes decisions that compromise sustainability.

Without concrete efforts to right the wrongs of the past, BCH will reproduce a housing system that never adequately or sustainably served the North. While BCH represents a major federal investment, the North needs more than housing units. It needs autonomy, climate-appropriate design, skilled local labour and local business development.

A sustainable northern housing future is possible, but only if programs like BCH evolve from a fast unit-counting exercise into an ecosystem-based strategy rooted in Indigenous leadership and northern expertise. That way a northern housing system can be built that will sustain communities for generations — by the North, with the North and for the North.


Mylène Riva, Associate Professor, Department of Geography, McGill University, Canada Research Chair in Housing, Community and Health and Rebecca Schiff, professor at the University of Lethbridge, co-authored this piece.

The Conversation

Shelagh McCartney receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada and the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation.

Aimee Pugsley receives funding from the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation and the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

Julia Christensen receives funding from the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation and the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

ref. Northern housing must be built as an integrated ecosystem — by the North, for the North – https://theconversation.com/northern-housing-must-be-built-as-an-integrated-ecosystem-by-the-north-for-the-north-273789

Imagining alternative Canadian cultural policy through BIPOC artists’ experiences

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Taiwo Afolabi, Full Professor/CRC in Socially Engaged Theatre; Director, C-SET, University of Regina

We need arts and cultural policy that embeds foundational principles of care, accountability and attention to reciprocal and equitable relationships. (Peqsels/RDNE Stock project)

The culture and creative sector is experiencing unprecedented strain during a period defined by intense polarization and precarity, growing economic and environmental concerns, deepening social inequities and urgent calls for justice.

During the pandemic and amid powerful global movements for racial and social justice, longstanding inequities in the arts sector were brought into sharper focus — as was artists’ continued commitment to imagining alternative futures.

But the frameworks guiding Canadian arts and culture policy are increasingly insufficient to sustain our society.

Future of Canadian cultural policy

The future of Canadian cultural policy — shaping how artists and creative practitioners engage in their work, with each other and society at large — cannot solely be premised on the economic argument for the cultural and creative sector, as was assumed by the 2017 Creative Canada Policy Framework.

Assuming the primacy of economic returns and market performance in cultural production undermines the value of non-commodified, non-economic contributions of culture.

Nor can the future of Canadian cultural policy rest on nation-building narratives of the post-Second World War era.

As playwright and director Yvette Nolan and cultural strategist Sarah Garton Stanley discussed in a 2023 session with the Centre for Socially Engaged Theatre, such narratives marginalize Indigenous Peoples and other cultural identities and perpetuate a settler-colonial vision of cultural citizenship.

Yvette Nolan and Sarah Garton Stanley discuss the imprint of the 1951 Massey Report, concerned with arts and culture, on Canada’s creative sectors.

In addition to asking how culture can serve economic interests or reinforce a cohesive national brand, we must also ask: how can cultural policy nurture trust, belonging and long-term relationality across communities, identities and experiences?

This was our concern in research we conducted between 2022 and 2024 with 18 self-employed Black, Indigenous and People of Colour (BIPOC) artists and cultural entrepreneurs across Western Canada. Collaborators in this research were playwright Yvette Nolan, as well as art historian Luba Kozak and academic researcher Fonon Nunghe.

Conversations with artists

We explored the question: In what ways might the social value-creation strategies of self-employed BIPOC artists who engage in socially transformative practices shape a more equitable Canadian cultural policy?

Through individual and group conversations, we heard how artists are leveraging their creative practices, entrepreneurial skills and leadership to generate social value in their communities.

We also heard how they are countering discrimination, fostering belonging and advancing justice through culturally grounded, socially engaged art.

We conducted this research during a pivotal period in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic and amid powerful global movements for racial and social justice. The reflections gathered are rooted in the social, political and cultural dynamics of that time, yet they remain relevant in today’s shifting landscape.

Issues such as systemic exclusion, under-representation and the need to support BIPOC leadership in the arts continue to demand urgent attention.

Erosion of EDI

Globally, the erosion of equity-based initiatives, especially in the wake of the 2024 U.S. presidential election, has raised alarm.

The backlash against diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) efforts across sectors, including the arts, signals a broader populist shift that threatens the fragile gains made in justice-centred work. Canadian cultural institutions are not immune to this trend.




Read more:
We need meaningful, not less, EDI and climate action in turbulent times


Organizations that foreground equity and representation increasingly find themselves under scrutiny, pressured to defend their legitimacy and impact.

Cultural policy is needed that protects equity-driven practices and embeds care, accountability and relationality as foundational principles, especially in times of political volatility.

What does this look like on the ground? Here are three insights that emerged in our conversations with artists:

1. Authentic safe spaces and responsiveness: Artists emphasized that the concept of safety must go beyond institutional declarations of “safe spaces” or symbolic gestures. True safety for BIPOC artists requires culturally responsive policies that acknowledge the emotional, spiritual and cultural dimensions of artistic practice.

This might look different for different artists and communities. Many institutions, while professing inclusivity, continue to restrict practices revealing a limited understanding of cultural protocols. Artists shared that safety must be rooted in the ability to engage in arts production and express themselves authentically, without institutional gatekeeping or pressure to conform to Western norms. This calls for a systemic rethinking of safety that centres cultural sovereignty and the right to self-determined artistic expression.

A group of Black and racialized co-workers of varying genders having a meeting.
BIPOC artists are often exptected to take on dual roles of creating their own work while also educating institutions about cultural practices and histories.
(Gender Spectrum Collection), CC BY

2. Tokenism and decolonization: Many participants described being invited into institutional spaces as symbols rather than equal collaborators. This dynamic reduces cultural presence to a token, where inclusion is more about optics than genuine engagement. BIPOC artists are often expected to take on dual roles, creating their own work while also educating institutions about cultural practices and histories.

This expectation is not only unsustainable but emotionally exhausting, eroding trust over time. As one artist explained, they are there to tell stories, not to “do the work” of decolonization for institutions. Promises of change are frequently postponed, using excuses such as budget limitations or declining audiences, which can feel dismissive and discourage long-term engagement. These experiences underscore the need to move beyond performative inclusion and toward real power-sharing in decision-making, leadership and representation.

3. Relational accountability and community-based practices: True decolonial work requires relational accountability and the commitment to building respectful, sustained relationships rooted in reciprocity. This cannot be achieved through a checklist-style inclusion efforts or standard contracts. Many artists noted the lack of cultural and relational competency within institutions and highlighted the importance of nurturing trust through shared experiences, dialogue and time.




Read more:
How theatre on the Prairies can imagine an equitable and inclusive future


Community-based artistic practice often blurs the boundaries between personal and professional life, which institutions typically fail to recognize. Care responsibilities, emotional labour and deep ties to community are integral to the creative process for many artists, especially those working in post-COVID contexts.

However, hierarchical institutions that prioritize production and efficiency often undervalue relationships. One participant reflected on feeling torn between her commitment to her urban Indigenous community and institutional pressures focused on outputs. This tension highlights the urgent need for institutional models that respect and integrate relational and community-based approaches to art processes.

Reimagining how institutions define success

What’s needed for the new era in Canada’s arts landscape is a fundamental reimagining of how cultural institutions define success and responsibility. This shift calls for cultural policy that upholds the diverse realities of those who live, create and contribute across these lands and is grounded in their experiences.

Cultural policies must explicitly encourage and require institutions to prioritize care, trust and ethical leadership in their daily practices, instead of focusing solely on outputs and compliance. Policies should centre community and accountability to relationships as core to institutional purpose.

By embedding these values into funding criteria, accountability measures, success indicators and governance frameworks, cultural policy can compel institutions to move beyond short-term, project-based transactional models.

If we are to cultivate a truly inclusive cultural landscape, we must build equity not only in visibility and representation but also in the relationships, processes and structures that sustain cultural life.

Only by embracing this approach can cultural institutions foster trust, belonging and resilience, helping to heal and connect communities across this land.

The Conversation

The researchers/authors received funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Council (SSHRC) (Insight Development Grant) for this research.

ref. Imagining alternative Canadian cultural policy through BIPOC artists’ experiences – https://theconversation.com/imagining-alternative-canadian-cultural-policy-through-bipoc-artists-experiences-273159