Category: Academic Analysis

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Samantha Garrard, Senior Marine Ecosystem Services Researcher, Plymouth Marine Laboratory

Tropical coral reefs cover less than 1% of the seafloor, yet support 25% of all marine species. They are also incredibly vulnerable. Over the past few decades, an estimated 30%-50% have already been lost.

Yet we are approaching a terrifying threshold. After record-breaking ocean heatwaves of 2023-24, which saw coral “bleaching” in at least 83 countries, scientists are looking towards 2026 with growing dread.

The question is whether this will be the year a global tipping point is reached for warm-water coral – a point beyond which their fate is sealed, and even the most resilient species can no longer recover.

The fate of these ecosystems may hinge on events in the Pacific Ocean, in particular a natural climate cycle called the El Niño–Southern Oscillation (ENSO). We have only just emerged from a devastating El Niño (the warm phase) that helped push 84% of the world’s coral reefs into “bleaching-level” heat stress.

Usually, reefs have a few years to “breathe” during the cooler La Niña phrase. However, as the planet warms El Niños are becoming stronger and more frequent, and the transition periods are becoming shorter and less cool.

With another El Niño expected in 2026, only a short time after the last one, many reefs will not have had sufficient time to recover. This next phase could trigger widespread coral reef collapse.

A point of no return?

The fear is that 2026 could mark a “tipping point”. These are moments when an ecosystem changes really suddenly, often in a way that can’t easily be undone.

However, these thresholds can be notoriously hard to spot as they happen. Every reef is different, and it can be hard to spot these permanent shifts amid short‑term shocks like heatwaves and extreme weather all while global temperatures are still climbing. This makes it harder to see the bigger picture of how the reef is actually doing over the long term.

Reaching a simultaneous global tipping point for all corals in 2026 is an unlikely worst-case scenario. But at a local level, many warm-water coral reefs are clearly set to fare badly. Some reefs have already passed the point of no return, and if extreme heatwaves occur across the tropics again so soon, the extent of loss over the next 12 months could be catastrophic.

What coral collapse looks like

When a reef passes that tipping point, the transformation can be stark.

It begins with bleaching, which happens when the surrounding sea becomes too hot. The stress causes the coral to expel the tiny colourful algae living inside its tissues, turning it white. The coral isn’t dead yet, but if high temperatures last too long, it can die.

Heat sensitive species are the most likely to disappear. And when corals die, they are quickly replaced by algae. Once that happens, it’s really hard for new coral larvae to settle and grow. The damage can last for a very long time, and the reef might never return to how it was before.

Another El Niño-induced mass bleaching isn’t a death sentence for all corals, of course, as how well they cope with heat stress varies across different ecoregions. Some species struggle when temperatures rise, while others have shown they can tolerate or adapt to warmer conditions. Coral in the Gulf of Aqaba (between Egypt’s Sinai Peninsula and Saudi Arabia) and Madagascar handled the record-breaking temperatures of 2023–24 surprisingly well, suggesting that some coral communities have some natural resistance to heat stress.

Reefs in deeper waters offshore might also be able to act as a “seed bank” for the future. These reefs, called mesophotic reefs and found about 30 to 50 metres underwater, get extra protection during heatwaves as they’re shielded by layers of cooler, heavier water. Because of this, deeper reefs might act as important “safe zones” where warm-water coral species have a better chance of surviving, at least into the near future.

Beyond the heat

Even though temperatures are expected to rise in 2026, corals are already more likely to bleach because of things like pollution, overfishing, and coastal development. The good news is that reducing these pressures can help reefs recover. Take the Mesoamerican Reef, for example, which extends nearly 700 miles along the coast of Mexico and Central America. Even though bleaching affected 40% of the reef in 2024, some parts improved because fish populations bounced back after better fisheries management.

Ocean acidification, caused by the sea absorbing more CO₂ from the atmosphere, makes it harder for corals to build their hard skeletons, which weakens them and slows their growth. This threatens even the deep, cold-water corals that don’t suffer from bleaching.

To help these biodiversity powerhouses survive the 21st century, we must do three things: aggressively cut carbon emissions to cool the water, reduce local stressors like pollution or overfishing, and incorporate selective breeding of heat-tolerant corals into restoration plans to improve resilience to heatwaves.

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Samantha Garrard receives funding from the United Kingdom Research and Innovation and from Horizon Europe, funding European research through the European Commission.

– ref. Will 2026 be the year when coral reefs pass their tipping point? – https://theconversation.com/will-2026-be-the-year-when-coral-reefs-pass-their-tipping-point-272462

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Daniel McNeil, Department of Social Policy, Sociology and Criminology Stuart Hall Interdisciplinary Chair, University of Birmingham

Arguments about diversity in Britain often get stuck on the surface. Instead of talking about who holds power or how resources are distributed, many politicians and culture warriors obsess over the colour of faces in adverts, media and public spaces.

Reform UK MP Sarah Pochin claimed that adverts “full of black people, full of Asian people” drove her “mad”, before apologising for the wording. Conservative MP Robert Jenrick depicted Handsworth in Birmingham as a slum where he “didn’t see another white face”. One reading of this comment is that it implies that the absence of white people signals disorder or decline.

In 2020, a Sainsbury’s Christmas advert featuring a black family sparked outrage online. Critics on social media declared that the country they recognised had vanished, that “too many” adverts now featured people who didn’t look like them.

Such controversies point to the heart of a dilemma currently facing Britain: a society wrestling with deep inequalities keeps picking fights about surface-level diversity.

A central problem is that multiculturalism is often confused with what might be called “multicolourism”. Multicolourism is cosmetic. It fixates on diverse racial representation in marketing materials, political campaigns or media imagery, and it masks racial disparities in wealth, housing and senior leadership positions.

Multiculturalism, by contrast, is hard work. It isn’t just about how Britain looks, but how it functions. It aims to build institutions, norms and everyday practices that enable different communities to disagree, collaborate and coexist while enjoying equal rights and opportunities. It is about the distribution of resources and civic respect, not counting the number of black or brown faces in an advert or campaign.

There is a long history of anxieties about black and Asian people holding space in British culture and politics. Such concerns about the racial diversity of British society are often conflated with debates about immigration and multiculturalism.

This can lead to problematic assumptions that all black and Asian people are migrants and that someone’s skin tone reveals their culture or values. For example, a Reform UK mayoral candidate has claimed that David Lammy and other ethnic minority politicians do not have a “primary loyalty” to Britain.

Surface-level diversity

While critics of multiculturalism have questioned the elevation of black and Asian people to prominent roles in British society, proponents of multicolourism have diverted attention away from the inequalities in British society.

The advertising sector is a helpful guide to the limitations of multicolourism. In a sign of progress, the Advertising Standards Authority now urges agencies to prioritise the quality of portrayals rather than numerical ratios – an acknowledgement that representation must go beyond tokenism. But research shows that, while agencies showcase diverse imagery in their campaigns, leadership and creative control remain overwhelmingly white.

In 2021, the Green Park Business Leaders Index found no black chairs, CEOs or CFOs in the FTSE 100. The 2024 Parker Review found little change, with no more than two black chairs, CEOs or CFOs in the FTSE 100. It also reported that approximately 13% of senior management positions at the top 100 firms in 2023 were held by people labelled “ethnic minorities” – notably lower than the 18% of people identified as non-white in the 2021 census.

Wealth inequality is even more stark. Research from the LSE’s Centre for Analysis of Social Exclusion shows that the median Bangladeshi, black African and black Caribbean households have negligible net wealth. This means their total liabilities are roughly equal to or exceed than the total value of their assets.

By comparison, the median white British household has a net worth of £140,000. These disparities shape everything about life prospects: where people can live, the stability they can build and the risks they can take.

How Britain lost its nerve on multiculturalism

Not long ago, Britain seemed to be moving toward a confident multicultural future. Postwar migration remade the country, and landmark equality laws in the 1960s and 70s helped dismantle the legal structures of discrimination. By 2000, the Commission on the Future of Multi Ethnic Britain laid out a serious vision for equal citizenship and plural identities.

But over the past decade and a half, that political confidence has crumbled. The Sewell Commission’s 2021 claim that Britain is not “institutionally racist” further shifted public debate away from reforms that would tackle structural inequality.

Some argue that the elevation of minority ethnic individuals to high-level positions is evidence that British institutions are not racist. This, too, is multicolourism. There is often reluctance to ask: have they achieved prominence despite, or because of, institutional racism?

Britain has ended up in an odd situation: public and private institutions proudly celebrate how diverse their organisations and campaigns look, while leadership structures have not shifted quickly enough.

We cheer the spectacle of footballers taking the knee, but are at risk of losing a generation of coaches and managers from a black, Asian or mixed heritage background. We elect politicians who celebrate their immigrant heritage, but who also support policies that make life harsher for ethnic minorities and migrants. The country wants the appearance of inclusion more than the responsibilities that come with it.

Rows about who appears on a poster or in a Christmas advert are keeping Britain stuck on a path of multicolourism. These debates are noisy, emotionally charged and ultimately hollow.

The other path demands more of us. It asks us to examine why wealth gaps persist, why senior leadership remains so homogeneous and why some communities face structural barriers while others enjoy structural advantages. It is the path of real and principled multiculturalism – an honest attempt to build a society where the rules are fair, the opportunities real and the institutions trustworthy.

It is slower. It is harder. It cannot be captured in a photo. But it is the only route that leads to a Britain confident enough not to fear its own reflection.

Daniel McNeil 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. Focusing on surface-level diversity is stopping Britain from becoming truly multicultural – https://theconversation.com/focusing-on-surface-level-diversity-is-stopping-britain-from-becoming-truly-multicultural-268013

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Lila Maladesky, PhD candidate in Biology, Lund University

Humans like plants. We like seeing them change the colour of their leaves throughout the year. They connect us to nature even if we live in a big city. But most people don’t think that much about the lives of plants, and least of all, about their sex life.

Because plants don’t move around much, it is common to think they lead boring lives. But today I want to convince you that they can be more interesting than you give them credit for. And for that, I will focus on people’s usual favourite plants: the ones that flower.

Many people think of plants as nice-looking greens. Essential for clean air, yes, but simple organisms. A step change in research is shaking up the way scientists think about plants: they are far more complex and more like us than you might imagine. This blossoming field of science is too delightful to do it justice in one or two stories.
This article is part of a series, Plant Curious, exploring scientific studies that challenge the way you view plantlife.

About 90% of flowering plants are hermaphroditic, which means that their flowers have both male and female function. This is what we call perfect flowers. Take the tomato for example. If you open one of its flowers, you will see it has an ovary (part of the female organ) and anthers with pollen (part of the male organ).

In tomatoes, pollen from a flower can pollinate the ovary of the same flower. This means that a tomato plant doesn’t need another tomato nearby to reproduce. Pretty convenient, especially if there are not many other plants of your species around.

However, this is not the case for all hermaphroditic plants. Some of them can’t self-pollinate, like apples. In those species you do need two individual plants to produce fruit.

Things get more complicated. Scientists think that the first flowering plant to appear on earth was probably hermaphroditic. But what about this other 10% that are not hermaphroditic? What are they and where do they come from?

Let’s dive in.

The alternative to perfect flowers is unisexual flowers, which have either an ovary or anthers with pollen. In some species, male flowers and female flowers grow from the same individual. This is what we call monoecious plants. The plant has both male and female functions but separated in different flowers. Often, these flowers appear at different times of the year, which doesn’t allow the plant to pollinate itself.

There is another alternative to this, which is the total separation of sexes in different individual plants. Willows are one example. In this species, one willow tree will have only male flowers or just female flowers. So, a willow tree can be male or female, more like we are used to in animals like mammals or birds.

This separation of sexes in plants is called dioecy. One reason why dioecy may evolve is because of the negative effects that self-pollination can bring. It’s similar to how humans reproducing with relatives can give their offspring a higher chance of diseases.

But that’s not all. A small proportion of unisexual plants have systems that seem to be in between hermaphroditism and dioecy. The system is called androdioecy when you can find hermaphroditic individuals and males within one population. An example of this is a herb native to California, US, called the Durango root. This system is rare in nature.

The alternative system is called gynodioecy, and it is the other way around. It is a system where females coexist with hermaphrodites. This happens in some wild strawberries.

Lastly, in some cases, male and females have been found alongside hermaphrodites. Some researchers call this trioecy (three sexes). And for this one, one example is the tasty papaya.

Exploring evolution

I mentioned earlier that hermaphroditism is probably the original sex determination system in flowering plants. So how did the other systems evolve from it?

In plants, as in many animals, sex is mostly determined by genes. This means that a seed will become a male or female plant depending on what their DNA says. Studying genetics has never been easy. But it has become easier over the last few decades, with technologies that allow us to study the genes in more detail.

Before this technological revolution, most studies were done in what we call model organisms, like mice, flies and some specific plants like thale cress (Arabidopsis thaliana). But now, studying other organisms is becoming increasingly easy. This has allowed scientists to see that in nature there is a lot of variation in sex determination. If we take dioecy as an example, scientists found examples of this system in groups of plants that are not closely related. This means that dioecy has evolved several times. And this is true for the other systems as well.

Gynodioecy, androdioecy and monoecy seem to be a link between hermaphroditism and dioecy. This means that systems can potentially go back and forth, from hermaphroditism to dioecy. And in fact, cases of changes in both directions have been found.

But what about the genes that determine these mechanisms? Scientists have found a variety of genes involved in different species. So, it turns out, there are many ways to evolve a male organism.

This variation in sex determination systems is why studying this topic in plants is interesting. In animals, many big groups, like insects, are dioecious, and they have been for millions of years. This makes it harder to study how dioecy evolved in the first place.

Flowering plants tell us a story about continuous change. The different sex determining systems are connected. If a species evolves separate sexes, hermaphroditism can still reappear in the future. But which is the best system? In nature, there is never one correct answer. It depends on the environment where the plants live and the challenges they have to face.

Lila Maladesky’s PhD project is funded by the European Research Council

– ref. Plant sex life is more complicated than you probably imagine – https://theconversation.com/plant-sex-life-is-more-complicated-than-you-probably-imagine-269229

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Karol Mullaney Dignam, Associate Professor, School of History and Geography, University of Limerick

Long before meteorology and climate science, Irish people looked to the natural world to forecast the weather and make sense of their surroundings. They read the skies, the seas and the behaviour of animals for signs of change: a halo around the moon meant rain was near; swallows flying low foretold a storm.

This weather lore – known as seanchas i dtaobh na haimsire in Irish – was grounded in generations of observation and shared through memorable sayings or rhymes. One familiar example is: “Red sky at night is a shepherd’s delight; red sky in the morning is a shepherd’s warning.” But weather lore is more than folklore. It is evidence of a society attuned to subtle environmental cues – what researchers now call traditional ecological or environmental knowledge.

Weather lore forms part of Ireland’s cultural heritage (dúchas) preserved in the National Folklore Collection, one of western Europe’s largest archives of oral tradition. Established in the 1930s and now digitised, it encompasses several compilations, including the Main Manuscript Collection of field-recorded folklore and the Schools’ Collection, gathered by schoolchildren from older generations. Together, these hold millions of pages of stories, customs and beliefs, among them thousands of weather sayings in both Irish and English.

Across the archive, weather lore highlights natural indicators – moon halos, sun colour, wind direction, animal behaviour – as clues to coming weather changes. Farmers timed sowing and harvesting, fishermen watched the skies before setting out to sea. Without barometers or technologically enhanced forecasts, people relied on sensory cues in the environment – shifts in colour, movement, sound, even smell. These observations were based on practical knowledge, honed over generations and patterns repeated nationwide.

Many stories of Irish weather lore have modern scientific explanations while others reflect superstition or coincidence.

Birds and animals: Cats turning their backs to the fire signalled a storm; dogs eating grass suggested rain. Swallows flying high meant fine weather, while low flight warned of rain. Seagulls coming inland foretold storm or rain. Foxes barking at night were said to herald dry weather.

Celestial clues: A “ring” around the moon was a classic sign of rain. Sunsets mattered too – red skies promised fair conditions, while coppery or yellow hues foretold rain. Twinkling stars were linked to frost or wind; shooting stars denoted dry weather (in Irish) or wind (in English). The Northern Lights were often interpreted as omens beyond weather, such as impending war.

House and hearth: The direction and behaviour of chimney smoke was also related to weather prediction. When smoke rose straight up, it signalled fine weather, but when it drifted downward or failed to ascend, rain or storm was expected. Blue flames in the fireplace meant storm or frost; falling soot signalled rain; damp hearthstones and cracking furniture were also read as warnings of unsettled weather to come.

Landscape and sound: Hills appearing “near” suggested rain, while seeming distant meant clear skies. Even sound carried meaning: when the rumble of a train or the roar of a waterfall sounded close, bad weather was expected; when distant, good weather was on the way.

Weather lore and cultural heritage

Weather shapes how we experience place, identity and memory. Weather lore carries cultural weight, being woven into everyday conversation, proverbs and poems and passed down through storytelling.

Verses helped people remember patterns. An Irish folklore variant of a familiar rhyme appears in both the Irish and English languages: “A rainbow at night is the farmer’s delight; a rainbow in the morning is the farmer’s warning.”

These rhymes also acted as calendars, helping communities anticipate seasonal changes. For example:

January brings the snow

Makes us oft our fingers blow

February brings the rain

And thaws the frozen lakes again

These sayings reinforced continuity and belonging, with evident regional differences. In the west, Irish-language sources mention marine indicators – sea colour, foam currents, seals (known as mucaí mara, sea pigs) – and use vivid metaphors like the “moon lying on its back” or “clouds like Kerry mountains”. Off-shore island communities noted tides and coastal sounds.

In contrast, English-language sources from the mainland emphasise agriculture: soil moisture, crop cycles and harvest lore. Farmers watched trees and hedgerow plants – haws and sloes – for seasonal predictions: “Ash before oak, there’s sure to be a soak; oak before ash, there’s sure to be a splash.” “March dust” was like gold because dry conditions early in spring were believed to promise a bountiful harvest.

Irish folklore has long been studied for its historical depth, linguistic richness and cultural significance. Recent studies explore how this lore connects to heritage and environmental awareness. Interpreted today, weather lore is more than folklore. Researchers are now beginning to frame this as “weather heritage”.

In an era of climate uncertainty, Irish weather lore points to something we risk losing: the habit of paying attention to what nature is telling us.

The climate crisis has a communications problem. How do we tell stories that move people – not just to fear the future, but to imagine and build a better one? This article is part of Climate Storytelling, a series exploring how arts and science can join forces to spark understanding, hope and action.

Karol Mullaney-Dignam has previously received external, government funding from the Irish Research Council (formerly IRCHSS, now Research Ireland) in relation to her research on musical culture and Irish country houses (Postdoctoral Research Fellowship, 2010-12, New Foundations Grant, 2016). She has also been funded around the same topic via a Royal Irish Academy Charlemont Award (2015). Additionally, she has worked as a project specific consultant and received project specific funding from the Irish Office of Public Works around the same topic.

– ref. Reading the sky: how Irish weather lore preserved a deep understanding of the natural world – https://theconversation.com/reading-the-sky-how-irish-weather-lore-preserved-a-deep-understanding-of-the-natural-world-271268

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Karl Matikonis, Assistant Professor, University College Dublin

Lithuania is entering 2026 with a tax shift that brings its system closer to countries like Ireland and the UK. From January 1, the long-standing flat 15% personal income-tax rate for self-employed people is being abolished for higher earners. These workers will now be integrated into the same new progressive bands that apply to employment income.

On the surface, it’s a technical adjustment. But politically, economically and symbolically it captures a moment in Europe’s history. That is to say, higher defence spending, shrinking fiscal space, EU rules that tie funding to progress on reforms and a public mood swinging towards the idea of “fairness”.

That’s why this small Baltic reform is being watched far beyond Lithuania’s capital Vilnius.

Security is now a direct fiscal driver. Lithuania, positioned on Nato’s eastern frontier, has tied parts of its tax package to defence funding. A new 10% security contribution on insurance premiums (excluding life insurance) makes that link explicit.

As budgets tighten, ageing populations, higher borrowing costs and the legacy of COVID spending leave governments with far less room to maintain tax preferences, especially those that create visible distributional gaps.

This is not only an EU dynamic. The UK’s recent budget, which pushes the overall tax burden to its highest level in decades, reflects similar constraints in the financial picture.

EU funding conditions are also prompting reform. Lithuania’s disbursements under its €3.8 billion (£3.32 billion) plan are linked to progress on income tax, property-tax changes and digital administration. The 2026 package addresses several of these milestones.

In other words, Lithuania didn’t just change taxes. It read the room.

The reasons for the generous regime

For nearly three decades, lightening the load for freelancers made sense. As my new research shows, Lithuania emerged from the Soviet system with limited administrative capacity. Most citizens had never filed a tax return, and the state needed to grow a private sector rapidly.

Flat, low-tax self-employment acted as a tool to build markets, encourage people to move out of the informal, cash-only economy and secure quasi-voluntary compliance in a state still developing its enforcement capacity.

But that era is over. Lithuania now operates one of the EU’s more digitised tax administrations. Returns are largely pre-populated, third-party reporting is extensive and the country’s tax inspectorate uses real-time and automated risk analysis. Under these conditions, the original administrative justification for maintaining a separate and significantly more generous freelancer regime has weakened.

In June 2025, Lithuania’s Seimas (parliament) approved a fiscal package to come into force on January 1 2026. The core principle is alignment: employees and the self-employed with comparable earnings now face broadly similar and more progressive income tax rates.

Until the end of 2025, freelancers paid a flat 15% income tax. But now this is replaced by a progressive regime of 20%, 25% and 32%. Lower-income sole traders are protected by a structured tax credit on the first €20,000 of income, which tapers out up to €42,500.

Above the taper threshold, employment and self-employment income will now be subject to the same income tax bands.

Several other measures are taking effect, including corporation tax increases from 16% to 17%; rising real estate tax; a new excise duty on sugary drinks and the 10% “national defence contribution” applied to non-life insurance premiums.

As the figure below (which is based on my analysis) shows, the reform narrows though does not eliminate the gap between freelancers and employees. But symbolically and structurally, it marks a clear shift.

Lithuania is confronting a challenge faced by many European states. Countries with sizeable gaps between the taxation of employees and the self-employed, including Italy, the Netherlands and Czech Republic, are grappling with the same pressures: rising defence budgets, tighter EU fiscal governance and labour markets where workers move easily between employment, contracting and the gig economy.

In these settings, systems designed in the 1990s no longer reflect how income is generated. Lithuania’s reform is one of the clearest recent examples of a broader shift towards taxing different forms of income in a more similar way.

There is also a subtler change under way. For many years, Lithuania’s flat freelancer tax was justified as a means of supporting entrepreneurship. Today, the public conversation has shifted. With digital administration lowering compliance barriers, fairness is increasingly defined as parity rather than privilege. Compliance tends to rise when taxpayers believe the system treats comparable earners even-handedly.

And in 2026’s security climate, linking part of the reform to defence spending has turned taxation into something closer to civic participation.

Lithuania’s reform is not radical; it is normalisation. But the direction of this change indicates where many European systems are heading: towards higher defence expenditure, closer EU fiscal oversight and tax structures that tolerate fewer discrepancies between different forms of work.

In that sense, this small Baltic state may simply have moved early, partly because of its geopolitical position. But others are likely to follow.

Karl Matikonis previously received funding from the Economic and Social Research Council for unrelated research.

– ref. A sign of Europe’s troubled times? Lithuania brings in tax reforms to boost defence spending – https://theconversation.com/a-sign-of-europes-troubled-times-lithuania-brings-in-tax-reforms-to-boost-defence-spending-271275