Category: Academic Analysis

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Manal Mohammed, Senior Lecturer, Medical Microbiology, University of Westminster

From minimalist wrist designs to full sleeves, body art has become so common that it barely raises an eyebrow. But while the personal meaning of a tattoo may be obvious, the biological consequences are far less visible. Once tattoo ink enters the body, it does not stay put. Beneath the skin, tattoo pigments interact with the immune system in ways scientists are only just beginning to understand.

Tattoos are generally considered safe, but growing scientific evidence suggests tattoo inks are not biologically inert. The key question is no longer whether tattoos introduce foreign substances into the body, but how toxic those substances might be and what that means for long-term health.

Tattoo inks are complex chemical mixtures. They contain pigments that give colour, liquid carriers that help distribute the ink, preservatives to prevent microbial growth, and small amounts of impurities. Many pigments currently in use were originally developed for industrial applications such as car paint, plastics and printer toner, rather than for injection into human skin.

Some inks contain trace amounts of heavy metals, including nickel, chromium, cobalt and occasionally lead. Heavy metals can be toxic at certain levels and are well known for triggering allergic reactions and immune sensitivity.

Tattoo inks can also contain organic compounds, including azo dyes and polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons.

Azo dyes are synthetic colourants widely used in textiles and plastics. Under certain conditions, such as prolonged exposure to sunlight or during laser tattoo removal, they can break down into aromatic amines. These chemicals have been linked to cancer and genetic damage in laboratory studies.

Polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons, often shortened to PAHs, are produced during incomplete burning of organic material and are found in soot, vehicle exhaust and charred food. Black tattoo inks, commonly made from carbon black, may contain these compounds, some of which are classified as carcinogenic.

Coloured inks, particularly red, yellow and orange, are more frequently associated with allergic reactions and chronic inflammation. This is partly due to metal salts and azo pigments that can degrade into potentially toxic aromatic amines.

Tattooing involves injecting ink deep into the dermis, the layer of skin beneath the surface. The body recognises pigment particles as foreign material. Immune cells attempt to remove them, but the particles are too large to be fully cleared. Instead, they become trapped inside skin cells, which is what makes tattoos permanent.

Tattoo ink does not remain confined to the skin. Studies show that pigment particles can migrate through the lymphatic system and accumulate in lymph nodes. Lymph nodes are small structures that filter immune cells and help coordinate immune responses. The long-term health effects of ink accumulation in these tissues remain unclear, but their central role in immune defence raises concerns about prolonged exposure to metals and organic toxins.

Tattoos and the immune system

A recent study suggests that commonly used tattoo pigments can influence immune activity, trigger inflammation and reduce the effectiveness of certain vaccines. Researchers found that tattoo ink is taken up by immune cells in the skin. When these cells die, they release signals that keep the immune system activated, leading to inflammation in nearby lymph nodes for up to two months.

The study also found that tattoo ink present at a vaccine injection site altered immune responses in a vaccine-specific way. Notably, it was associated with a reduced immune response to the COVID-19 vaccine. This does not mean tattoos make vaccines unsafe. Rather, it suggests tattoo pigments can interfere with immune signalling, the chemical communication system immune cells use to coordinate responses to infection or vaccination, under certain conditions.

At present, there is no strong epidemiological evidence linking tattoos to cancer in humans. However, laboratory and animal studies suggest potential risks. Certain tattoo pigments can degrade over time, or when exposed to ultraviolet light or laser tattoo removal, forming toxic and sometimes carcinogenic byproducts.

Many cancers take decades to develop, making these risks difficult to study directly, especially given how recently widespread tattooing has become.

The most well-documented health risks of tattoos are allergic and inflammatory reactions. Red ink is particularly associated with persistent itching, swelling and granulomas. Granulomas are small inflammatory nodules that form when the immune system attempts to isolate material it cannot remove.

These reactions can appear months or years after a tattoo is applied and may be triggered by sun exposure or changes in immune function. Chronic inflammation has been linked to tissue damage and increased disease risk. For people with autoimmune conditions or weakened immune systems, tattoos may pose additional concerns.

Infection risks

Like any procedure that punctures the skin, tattooing carries some risk of infection. Poor hygiene can lead to infections such as Staphylococcus aureus, hepatitis B and C and, in rare cases, atypical mycobacterial infections.

One of the biggest challenges in assessing tattoo toxicity is the lack of consistent regulation. In many countries, tattoo inks are regulated far less strictly than cosmetics or medical products, and manufacturers may not be required to disclose full ingredient lists.

The European Union has introduced stricter limits on hazardous substances in tattoo inks, but globally, oversight remains uneven.

For most people, tattoos do not cause serious health problems, but they are not risk-free. Tattoos introduce substances into the body that were never designed for long-term residence in human tissue, some of which can be toxic under certain conditions.

The main concern is cumulative exposure. As tattoos become larger, more numerous and more colourful, the total chemical burden increases. Combined with sun exposure, ageing, immune changes or laser removal, this burden may have consequences that science has not yet fully uncovered.

Tattoos remain a powerful form of self-expression, but they also represent lifelong chemical exposure. While current evidence does not suggest widespread danger, growing research highlights important unanswered questions about toxicity, immune effects and long-term health. As tattooing continues to rise worldwide, the case for better regulation, transparency and sustained scientific investigation becomes increasingly difficult to ignore.

Manal Mohammed 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. Tattoos, toxins and the immune system – what you need to know before you get inked – https://theconversation.com/tattoos-toxins-and-the-immune-system-what-you-need-to-know-before-you-get-inked-271503

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Manal Mohammed, Senior Lecturer, Medical Microbiology, University of Westminster

Refugee health is often discussed in terms of crises such as disease outbreaks, malnutrition and psychological distress. But some of the most serious effects of displacement are harder to see. One example is how forced migration can change the bacteria in the gut that support immunity and long-term health.

The human gut contains trillions of bacteria, viruses and fungi, together known as the gut microbiome. These microbes help digest food, support the immune system and protect against illness. A healthy gut microbiome is usually diverse and balanced, with plenty of beneficial bacteria that help protect against infection and inflammation.

Studies show that refugees often have gut microbiomes that look different from those of people who have not experienced displacement. Researchers describe distinct gut microbiome profiles, typically with fewer types of microbes and changes in which bacteria are most common. These differences are not genetic. Instead, they reflect the extreme conditions many refugees face before, during and after displacement.

Understanding these differences can help improve healthcare for refugees, but it also shows how social inequality can become physically embedded in the body over time.

One common finding is higher levels of harmful bacteria and antibiotic-resistant organisms in refugee gut microbiomes. Antibiotic-resistant bacteria can survive medicines designed to kill them, making infections harder to treat and easier to pass on.

Poor sanitation and contaminated environments play a major role. Many refugees come from, or travel through, areas affected by conflict or disaster, where access to clean water and toilets is limited. Drinking unsafe water or eating contaminated food increases the chance that disease-causing bacteria will settle in the gut and multiply, a process known as colonisation.

Common examples include E coli, Salmonella and Shigella. These bacteria can cause diarrhoea, vomiting and fever, and in severe cases may lead to dehydration, blood infection, poor growth in children or long-term digestive problems.

Repeated stomach and bowel infections, especially in crowded places with poor sanitation, disturb the normal balance of gut microbes. Over time, harmful species can take over, while the overall range of microbes shrinks. Having fewer different types of gut bacteria is widely recognised as a sign of poor gut health.

Chronic stress makes these problems worse. Refugees are often exposed to prolonged stress linked to war, violence, forced movement, separation from family and ongoing uncertainty. Rates of mental health challenges are high, and stress affects physical health through the gut–brain axis, the communication system between the brain and the digestive system.

Long-term stress alters immune responses, hormone levels and the gut lining. These changes increase inflammation and make it easier for harmful microbes to grow, while reducing beneficial bacteria such as Lactobacillus and Bifidobacterium.

Antibiotic use is another major factor driving poor gut health and antibiotic resistance. In low-resource or conflict settings, antibiotics are often used frequently because infections are common and access to testing is limited. Refugees may receive multiple courses without a clear diagnosis or follow-up. While these medicines can save lives, repeated or unnecessary use allows resistant bacteria to survive and spread.

Antibiotics also destroy helpful microbes that keep the gut healthy. Repeated courses reduce the number and variety of beneficial bacteria, weakening the gut’s ability to protect itself.

As a result, antibiotic-resistant strains such as E coli that can neutralise antibiotics can become established in the gut, making infections much harder to treat.

Poor conditions and malnutrition

Living conditions during displacement further increase the risk of gut infection and the spread of antibiotic-resistant bacteria. Refugees camps and temporary shelters are often overcrowded and lack basic hygiene facilities, allowing infectious diseases to spread easily.

Dietary disruption also affects gut health. Sudden shifts from traditional diets rich in fibre to emergency food aid high in refined carbohydrates deprive beneficial gut bacteria of fuel. Low-fibre diets weaken gut defences and allow harmful bacteria to thrive.

Malnutrition further increases vulnerability, especially in children, whose gut microbiomes are still developing.

After resettlement, refugees may still carry antibiotic-resistant bacteria picked up earlier. Barriers to healthcare can slow recovery. Language barriers, limited access to culturally appropriate healthcare and delayed treatment can lead to antibiotics being prescribed as a precaution rather than based on confirmed diagnosis. This sustains cycles of microbiome disruption rather than recovery.

The spread of harmful and antibiotic-resistant bacteria in refugee populations is a public health issue, not a personal one. Addressing them requires coordinated public health interventions, including improved sanitation, careful antibiotic use, stress-aware care and nutritional support that helps restore a healthy gut.

Understanding how all these factors interact is essential for developing humane, effective healthcare strategies that protect both refugee communities and wider public health.

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

– ref. How displacement reshapes refugees’ gut health – https://theconversation.com/how-displacement-reshapes-refugees-gut-health-271997

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Christopher J. Finlay, Professor in Political Theory, Durham University

Sales of Hannah Arendt’s The Origins of Totalitarianism (1951) rocketed when Donald Trump won the 2016 US presidential election. Nearly a year into the second Trump administration – and 50 years since Arendt’s death in December 1975 – it seems like an apposite time to revisit the book and see what light it sheds on 2025.

The book is brilliant but difficult, combining history, political science and philosophy in a way that can be very disorientating. So what might we, as democratic citizens, gain from reading it?

Born to a secular German Jewish family in 1906, Arendt studied philosophy under Martin Heidegger and Karl Jaspers before turning to Zionist activism in Berlin in the early 1930s. After a brush with the gestapo, she fled to France, and in 1941 left Europe for the US. So when she began researching Origins in the early 1940s, she was no stranger to totalitarianism.

Totalitarianism, she argued, was a radically new form of government distinguished by its ideological conception of history. For the Nazis, history was a clash of races; for Stalinism, it was class war. Either way, totalitarian leaders sought to execute historical “laws” by forcibly reshaping the humans they ruled.

Humanity, Arendt said, is distinguished by its infinite variability – no person can ever entirely substitute for another. Totalitarianism aimed to destroy this. It isolated individuals, dissolving the bonds through which they unite and empower each other, and sought to extinguish human personhood.

The concentration camps’ total domination did so by reducing each inmate to “a bundle of reactions that can be liquidated and replaced” before killing them. With everyone ultimately subject to this threat, totalitarianism rendered the human person as such, superfluous.

Rather than pursuing stability, totalitarianism was always a movement, constantly instigating change. When its propaganda collided with facts, it brutalised reality until the facts conformed. Its ideal subjects not only believed its lies: they no longer found the distinction between truth and falsehood meaningful. This was “post-truth politics” at its most extreme.

Common sense won’t save us

Comparing today’s politics to fully fledged totalitarianism can be illuminating. But if it’s all we do, we risk overlooking Arendt’s subtler lessons about warning signs that can help us gauge threats to democracy.

The first is that political catastrophe isn’t always signposted by great causes, but arises when sometimes seemingly trivial developments converge. The greatest example for Arendt was political antisemitism. During the 19th century, only a “crackpot” fringe embraced it. By the 1930s, it was driving world politics.

This resonates with hard-right and far-right ideology today. Ideas widely seen as eccentric 20 years ago have increasingly come to shape democratic politics. Anti-immigrant sentiment and xenophobia penetrate the political mainstream. Alongside growing Islamophobia, antisemitism is on the rise again too.

The mainstreaming of previously marginal views helps explain a second warning sign that politics is increasingly driven by what Arendt described as “forces that cannot be trusted to follow the rules of common sense and self-interest”.

A simplistic politics of ideological fantasy and paranoia takes over instead. It appeals most to the isolated and lonely, people lost in society who have given up hope that anyone will ever address their real interests and concerns. Perpetually frustrated by reality, they seek escape in conspiracy theories instead.

Arendt’s story resonates with There Is Nothing For You Here, Fiona Hill’s account of the “left-behind” in communities of de-industrialised regions in the US, UK, Russia, and Germany – regions where the far right has grown.

In early 20th-century Europe, similar experiences of powerlessness spread alongside the imperialist embrace of what Arendt called “the limitless pursuit of power after power”. When colonial violence boomeranged back to its European source, the powerless were drawn to leaders who exemplified the violent pursuit of power for power’s sake.

New wine in old bottles

The neo-imperialist flex of a US government executing civilian boat crews in international waters while deploying regular armed forces domestically to fight crime looks like an appeal to the same instincts Arendt was writing about.

But perhaps Origins’ most important lesson is about trying to understand something radically new using outdated concepts – “interpreting history by commonplaces” as Arendt called it. Faced with a jarringly new style of politics, there is a temptation to explain it away as mere nationalistic excess, for instance. Or as an understandable expression of economic disappointment and one readily addressed with economic remedies.

Origins tells instead the story of something much greater than the sum of its parts taking on a terrible life of its own. By trying to reduce it to familiar terms, Arendt said, “the impact of reality and the shock of experience were no longer felt” and people failed to resist when they most needed to.

But this lesson also applies to the idea of totalitarianism itself. It helped Arendt understand the 1940s, but we shouldn’t assume that it will apply directly to 2025. The term totalitarianism could itself distract, rather than mobilising people.

For example, if claiming that Trumpian populism is already totalitarian seems excessively alarmist, then deciding that it isn’t might be excessively reassuring. Either could diminish people’s ability to respond to the demands of the moment.

What we urgently need instead is what Arendt described as “the unpremeditated, attentive facing up to, and resisting of, reality – whatever it may be”. Origins’ greatest lesson is in showing us what that looks like.

The main lesson for 2025 is as much about what Arendt was doing in the 1940s as about what she was saying: actively thinking in the now, and trying to grasp an emergent “something” on its own terms – a threat that is taking shape, but which hasn’t yet fully revealed itself.

This article features references to books that have been included for editorial reasons, and may contain links to bookshop.org; ff you click on one of the links and go on to buy something, The Conversation UK may earn a commission.

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Christopher J. Finlay has previously received funding from the British Academy and from the Leverhulme Trust.

– ref. How Hannah Arendt can help us understand this new age of far-right populism – https://theconversation.com/how-hannah-arendt-can-help-us-understand-this-new-age-of-far-right-populism-269626

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Adrianna Zabrzewska, Senior Research Fellow (Postdoc), Edinburgh Napier University

Toxic masculinity doesn’t stop at marginalising women and LGBTQ+ people. It harms straight men by discouraging emotional expression, tenderness, and connection.

As the TV show Adolescence demonstrated, the troubling anxiety and rage surrounding what it means to “be a man” can arise early in life. What Adolescence also reminds us, though, is that framing boys as potential threats is not the way to go.

So how do we reach boys before they radicalise in dangerous ways? How can we do this without reducing them to stereotypes?

While the effects of literature on empathy might not be straightforward, taking children’s literature seriously and looking into representations of masculinity in young adult fiction could be part of the solution.

In my research, I drew on feminist philosophy to propose three concepts for rethinking masculinity: relationality, vulnerability, and inclination. There are books that already feature these ideals, like Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan or Rick Riordan’s action-packed urban fantasy series Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard.

The concept, inclination, relates to fostering a caring, curious orientation toward difference, a willingness to “lean in” rather than stand aloof. Or, to paraphrase the Italian feminist philosopher Adriana Cavarero, it is the courage to fall down the “slippery slope” of love, friendship and emotional bonds. In my interpretation, inclination is the drive that motivates people to connect with the world and care for various vulnerable others.

Inclination can be seen in Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard, which combines exciting adventures with emotional depth. Magnus is a teenage male hero who is sweet, caring, and driven by love for his friends.

With a diverse cast of characters, from deaf elves to Muslim American female warriors and genderfluid pottery artists, the series offers an engaging lesson in intersectionality, which refers to the fact that everyone is part of multiple social categories.

Riordan’s other boy protagonists – including Percy Jackson or Jason Grace (also from the world of Percy Jackson) – rely on friends of all genders and are not threatened by independent women.

They bravely display their own vulnerability while respecting the vulnerability of others. And if they don’t – like the protagonist of The Trials of Apollo – it’s because they’re written as caricatures of self-aggrandising, hyper-individualistic masculinity.

Redefining masculinity through queer fiction

The concept of relationality is the idea that we are formed not in isolation but through relationships. It acknowledges the diverse contexts we inhabit, and emphasises that our differences should be respected, not ignored. Ideally, a person who sees themselves as relational would focus on fostering an ethical commitment to honour, rather than exploit, the vulnerabilities of others.

This can be seen in Two Boys Kissing, which follows several queer teenage protagonists as they explore friendship, love, and identity. What makes the novel remarkable is its chorus of narrators: a collective voice of gay men whose lives were lost during the HIV/Aids epidemic.

The narrators watch over the living boys with tenderness and urgency. They become a vigilant, caring presence that transcends time and space. They provide a sense of continuity between generations and individuals, showing that relationships matter, not only in our immediate circles but also in the larger tapestry of life.

Vulnerability refers to the shared human condition of being a body born from another body. We are all finite and fragile, susceptible to harm, loss, and injustice. Through our fragility and dependence, vulnerability can be transformed into resilience and connection. This is especially true when we recognise the diverse experiences of disenfranchisement that we each face.

In Two Boys Kissing, the chorus of narrators celebrate imperfect bodies, both cis-gendered and trans, that defy unrealistic beauty standards. They whisper encouragement to a lonely teen contemplating suicide and agonise over his pain. They affirm that care, intimacy and affection are not signs of weakness but of strength. Through these voices, Levithan’s readers learn that self-acceptance comes not from independence or dominance but from reaching out to others.

When strategically integrated into stories, educational practices and daily interactions, vulnerability, relationality, and inclination can help us sketch new ethical horizons, and not only for masculinity but for gendered existence as a whole.

Of course, literature will not solve our problems. It will not turn us into better people overnight (if at all). But stories are powerful cultural tools. They can show boys that being strong doesn’t mean being unfeeling, and that caring for others is not a betrayal of masculinity but its renewal.

Looking for something good? Cut through the noise with a carefully curated selection of the latest releases, live events and exhibitions, straight to your inbox every fortnight, on Fridays. Sign up here.

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

– ref. How young adult literature and philosophy can help provide better role models for masculinity – https://theconversation.com/how-young-adult-literature-and-philosophy-can-help-provide-better-role-models-for-masculinity-271888

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Xu Peng, Postdoctoral Researcher at the Centre for the Study of Illicit Economies, Violence and Development, SOAS, University of London

South-east Asia has become the “ground zero” for the global online scamming industry, according to the UN, costing victims billions of US dollars each year. Scam operations are run by Chinese crime syndicates from fortified compounds in countries like Myanmar, which has been embroiled in a nationwide armed conflict since 2021.

The size of the scam industry has led to sustained security crackdowns in recent years. This has included a number of joint operations involving police forces from multiple countries. However, despite releasing tens of thousands of trafficked workers from these compounds, the raids have done little to wipe out scam operations.

In October, for example, Myanmar’s military stormed a major scam hub in the south-eastern Karen State. The operation was, according to military spokesperson Maj. Gen. Zaw Min Tun, proof that the army would “completely eradicate online scam activities from their roots”. But, just days later, local reporting indicated that work was continuing uninterrupted at other compounds in the area.

Since 2018, I have been carrying out fieldwork along Myanmar’s borders with China and Thailand. I have found that checkpoint controls vary widely. This asymmetry determines where in Myanmar scam hubs emerge and helps explain why operations are often able to relocate rather than shut down when faced with pressure.

China’s border with northern Myanmar is heavily securitised. Before travellers reach the border, they must pass internal checkpoints on the main roads that lead into the border counties of Yunnan province.

Police routinely check ID cards and ask people whose household registration is outside Yunnan to explain their visit. Roadside posters, digital billboards and village loudspeakers repeat the same message: do not cross the border to work in scam parks.

Local police officers I interviewed described it as now “almost impossible” for ordinary people to cross informally from China into Myanmar. And restrictions on crossing the border have tightened since late 2023, when the armed conflict in northern Myanmar intensified.

China also exercises tight telecommunications and financial controls. Real-name registration for phone SIM cards, anti-fraud apps installed on smartphones and close scrutiny of cross-border money transfers all raise the risks of running large-scale scam centres near Chinese territory.

The situation is different along Thailand’s border with Myanmar. This border has long served as a trade corridor, migration route and lifeline for refugees fleeing conflict in Myanmar. Decades of instability there have left a dense landscape of refugee camps, informal crossings and aid infrastructure in the Thai borderlands.

Towns such as Mae Sot in western Thailand, which sit only a short drive from Karen State where scam compounds have proliferated in recent years, have become key hubs for trade and refugee support. The same roads and bridges that carry refugees, aid workers and traders are also used by brokers moving trafficked workers.

Thai authorities do operate checkpoints and immigration controls. But compared with the Chinese border, these are shaped more by humanitarian concerns and longstanding cross-border social ties. It is relatively easy for foreign visitors to access Myanmar through the Thai border, as I discovered on a recent research trip.

I passed three checkpoints between the town of Tak and Mae Sot on a mini-bus and, despite prominent warning signs about scam compounds at the final checkpoint, officers checked documents quickly and let travellers through. This accessibility also makes it simple for scam recruiters, middlemen and some workers to move in and out of Myanmar.

The asymmetric border checkpoints help explain why scam hubs have clustered in Karen State, where Thai police estimate up to 100,000 people work in scam centres, while many northern compounds near China have closed down.

Myanmar’s moving checkpoints

Inside Myanmar’s contested borderlands, checkpoints are not run by a single authority. They are managed by a patchwork of ethnic armed organisations and border guard forces, each of which control their own stretch of road or river.

While these checkpoints focus on ensuring security, they are also a source of income. Local commanders and militias use them to tax goods, vehicles and people, with checkpoints set up, relaxed or moved when alliances or financial interests change.

This fragmented system creates room for scam operators to keep compounds running or to relocate workers and equipment when pressure from the authorities builds, especially when operators share profits with the people manning the checkpoints.

Interviews I have conducted with local scam brokers and police officers in China and Thailand suggest that information about impending crackdowns often circulates through these cross-border networks of recruiters, militias and complicit officials well in advance.

Reporting from Karen State suggests that ethnic militias escorted Chinese scam workers out of hubs such as KK Park and Shwe Kokko ahead of recent raids to cities like Yangon and Mandalay, charging substantial “fees” for safe passage.

South-east Asia’s scam industry bends under pressure, but it does not break. Checkpoints inside Myanmar and at its borders do not close the trade – they help decide where it goes next.

Xu Peng receives funding from the Serious Organised Crime and Anti-Corruption Evidence (SOC ACE) research programme for the project “The Centrality of the Margins: Borderlands, Illicit Economies and Uneven Development”, and from the Cross-border Conflict Evidence, Policy and Trends (XCEPT) research programme for the project “TRACE: Checkpoints, Conflict, and the Politics of Circulation”.

– ref. Huge online scam operations are flourishing in war-torn Myanmar – I travelled there to find out why – https://theconversation.com/huge-online-scam-operations-are-flourishing-in-war-torn-myanmar-i-travelled-there-to-find-out-why-271701