Robert Munsch has prepared for the eventual end of his story, but his letters and books keep speaking

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Erin Spring, Associate Professor, Werklund School of Education, University of Calgary

In April 1996, I was 11 years old. I wrote letters to authors on the topic of “becoming a writer,” enclosing a short questionnaire. To my astonishment, over 40 authors responded — some on letterhead, some on lined paper, some with doodles and stickers.

One author who wrote me back was the beloved Canadian children’s author Robert Munsch. His stories, including Mortimer, Thomas’ Snowsuit and Love You Forever, have sold more than 87 million copies, been translated into dozens of languages and are staples in classrooms, homes and libraries worldwide.

In mid-September, a Munsch profile appeared in the New York Times outlining how dementia has affected the author’s life, and his decision to elect medically assisted death (MAiD) when the time comes.

While Munsch’s daughter has said he is “NOT DYING!!!” and doing well, the recent coverage has reignited national conversations about dignity, decline and ethical questions raised by MAiD.

Munsch’s letter-writing opens journalist Katie Engelhart’s New York Times Magazine piece. She notes that when Munsch received many letters from a class, he’d reply with a single letter, often with an unpublished story that included real names of some students. But when children wrote on their own, Munsch always responded.

According to Scholastic, one of his publishers, Munsch receives about 10,000 letters a year.

How stories shape who we become

I’ve carried Munsch’s letter, and other author letters, with me for almost three decades. They now live in a shoebox on my office window sill — a reminder that the child who wrote them still lingers nearby.

I see now that in writing to the authors I admired, I was beginning to understand how stories can shape a sense of self — how young people make sense of their identities through reading.

In my research, I’ve examined how reading is a powerful tool for exploring and building identity, belonging and community. I’ve engaged with youth across urban and rural settings and those living on reserve. I’ve always found young people to be the most reliable, compelling narrators of their own stories.

Too often, both scholars and popular narratives get caught in unhelpful binaries — adult versus child, innocent versus knowing — that flatten the richness of children’s lives, positioning them as somehow incomplete. I’m more interested in what happens when we think of adults and children as akin: different, yes, but connected.

All these years later, I’m returning to Munsch’s letter, not just as a material remnant of my childhood, but as evidence of what’s possible when an author takes their child-reader seriously.

Literacy is a relationship

Literacy is not only a skill but a relationship, nurtured through moments of attention, dialogue and care. And here is where Munsch is masterful. His career has been an extended epistolary experiment in listening and taking children seriously.

I talk to kids, and I listen to kids,” he explains on his website. Munsch improvised stories in front of children, shifting in response to their laughter or protest. He drew inspiration directly from them.

“My stories have no adult morals. They’re not to improve children. They’re just for kids to like,” he shared on CBC radio in 2021.

Munsch also writes honestly on his website about his background — how he was “not a resounding academic success.” He writes openly about his mental-health challenges, encouraging parents to have brave conversations with their children.

It’s no surprise, then, that Munsch has openly shared his most recent struggle with dementia, prompting readers across the ages to share memories of how his stories have shaped their lives.

Small exchanges matter tremendously

At a time when debates about reading for pleasure and children’s creativity are making headlines, these small exchanges matter tremendously.

Recent Canadian data suggest both promise and concern. According to Scholastic’s Kids and Family Reading Report, 91 per cent of children aged 6 to 17, and 97 per cent of parents, agree that being a reader is essential. Yet the same report shows that children’s enjoyment of reading declines sharply with age, and that many struggle to connect with books.

CBC video of Robert Munsch telling the story of ‘The Paperbag Princess.’

The National Literacy Alliance has warned that one in five Canadian adults still face serious reading challenges, calling for a national strategy. Data from the United Kingdom’s National Literacy Trust reports similar findings.

In response to declining rates in reading for pleasure, the Booker Prize has launched a new award for children’s fiction, with young people on its adjudication board.

Hearing children, fully

Munsch understood children as whole people decades ago. Not only is he honest, but he makes it clear that hearing from children matters. He wrote to me:

“I loved your letter. My publisher says to me, ‘Wow! We sold 1,000,000 of Love You Forever; but that does not tell me what any one person thought of it or where any one person lives who read it. In fact, the publisher does not know that sort of thing at all; but letters tell me what is really happening with my books.”

Briefly, 11-year-old me, a young girl from rural Ontario, was that one person.

“I live in Guelph,” Munsch described to me. “It is surrounded by farms. My house is next to a hill. I have an office in the basement.”

It reads like a letter between friends.

One reader, one writer

When Engelhart’s article appeared, I pulled out my shoebox, noticing that Munsch ends his letter with a question: “Which book is your favourite?”

I had missed it at the time.

His response to my letter project was also a gesture of kinship. Munsch’s question placed the power in my hands, inviting child-me back into the conversation. I wish I had taken him up on it.

Long before “reading crises” made headlines, Munsch understood that stories are relational. His 1996 letter to me, written in the same voice that filled classrooms with laughter, embodied that belief.

In responding, he modelled what literacy can look like at its most human scale: one reader, one writer and a story shared between them.

The stories we carry

Now, as his voice begins to recede, those exchanges take on new weight.

Contemplating Munsch’s end of life invites broader reflection for Canadian cultural memory. Children’s literature often counts for less in national literary canons, but it carries enormous weight — because generational reading connects us.

What happens when a central figure of that literature fades? How do we preserve not just the texts, but the relational echoes around them?

When Munsch asked me which book was my favourite, he was really asking what story I would carry forward. Three decades later, I’m belatedly responding: it’s the letter itself — the conversation, the recognition, the trust.

I carry my shoebox wherever I go. Inside it lives a child’s curiosity, the kindness of authors and the reminder that the relations we nurture through stories shape identity in quiet, enduring ways.

The Conversation

Erin Spring 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. Robert Munsch has prepared for the eventual end of his story, but his letters and books keep speaking – https://theconversation.com/robert-munsch-has-prepared-for-the-eventual-end-of-his-story-but-his-letters-and-books-keep-speaking-267280

Congress has been dodging responsibility for tariffs for decades – now the Supreme Court will decide how far presidents can go alone

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Bedassa Tadesse, Professor of Economics, University of Minnesota Duluth

On Nov. 5, the U.S. Supreme Court will hear one of the most consequential trade cases in decades. The justices will decide whether a president can rely on a Cold War–era emergency law, the International Emergency Economic Powers Act, to impose sweeping import duties on a vast share of what the United States buys from abroad.

At stake is more than the scope of presidential power. The case highlights a deeper question of accountability: Who should decide what Americans pay for imported goods – the president acting alone, unelected judges reading emergency laws broadly, or the elected representatives who must face voters when prices rise?

When tariffs end up in court, it’s usually because Congress has failed to act. Over the past few decades, lawmakers have ceded much of their trade authority to presidents eager to move quickly – and the courts have been left to clean up the mess. Each new lawsuit makes it seem as though judges are running the economy when, in fact, they’re being pulled into policy questions they’re neither trained nor elected to answer.

As an economist, not a lawyer, I view this as more than a constitutional curiosity. It’s about how the world’s largest economy makes decisions that ripple through global markets, factory floors and family budgets. A duty on steel may help a mill in Ohio while raising bridge-construction and car-buying costs everywhere else. A tariff on electronics might nudge assembly onshore yet squeeze hospital and school budgets that depend on those devices.

These are choices about distribution – who gains, who pays, and for how long – that demand analysis, transparency and, above all, democratic ownership.

How did the US get here?

Congress didn’t exactly lose its tariff power; it gave it away.

The Constitution assigns “Taxes, Duties, Imposts and Excises” to Congress, not the White House. Historically, Congress set tariff lines in law – consider the Smoot–Hawley Tariff Act of 1930. The pivot began with the Reciprocal Trade Agreement Act of 1934, which let presidents adjust rates within limits via executive agreements. In the 1960s and ’70s, Congress passed laws expanding the president’s authority over trade, granting new powers to restrict or adjust imports without a separate congressional vote if certain conditions are met.

In my view, two key incentives drove the drift: blame avoidance and gridlock. Tariffs are redistributive by design: They benefit some sectors and regions while imposing costs on others. Casting a vote that helps steelworkers in one state but raises prices for builders in another is politically risky. Delegating to the White House allowed lawmakers to sidestep the fallout when prices rise or when jobs shift.

And as polarization intensified, the bargaining that once produced workable compromises became increasingly complex. Broad emergency statutes and open-ended delegations became the path of least resistance – fast, unilateral and insulated from negotiation. Over time, exceptions became the norm, and courts were tasked with resolving the gray areas.

That’s a poor way to run economic policy.

Judges interpret statutes and precedent; they don’t run general equilibrium models, forecast inflation paths or map supply chain rerouting. Evidence in court is confined to a single case file. Remedies are blunt: They are either to uphold, strike down or send back. Tariff design, by contrast, is about calibration: how high, how long, which sectors, which exclusions, what off-ramps, what triggers for renewal or repeal.

When lawsuits substitute for legislation, countries drift into policy by injunction. Companies see rules whipsaw; projects are delayed or shelved; households experience price swings that feel arbitrary; trading partners retaliate against policies they see as improvisational.

A matter of accountability

Accountability sits at the center of the problem. Most judges aren’t elected; lawmakers are. Lifetime tenure protects judicial independence – good for rights, bad for setting taxes. No one can vote out a court when tariffs push up the price of a school Chromebook or a contractor’s rebar.

Members of Congress, by contrast, must explain themselves. They can hold hearings, commission impact analyses, hear from unions and small businesses, and then defend the trade-offs. If tariffs save jobs in one town but raise prices nationwide, voters know exactly whom to reward or punish. That democratic link is why the Constitution places “Duties and Imposts” in the hands of Congress.

None of this means paralysis when it comes to trade policy. The United States has done this before – via trade-promotion and fast-track authorities that set clear goals and required renewal votes – while the EU and Japan have paired swift action with built-in legislative oversight.

Congress can be nimble without being reckless. Best practices for tariffs include setting clear targets using accessible language, having independent analysts conduct reviews before and after a tariff is put in place, and having diplomacy baked into a broader trade-security strategy that reports retaliation risks.

The challenge facing the court

In my view, the Supreme Court’s role here is both modest and vital: to enforce the statute and the constitutional line.

If a general emergency law doesn’t clearly authorize sweeping, long-duration tariffs, it’s not activism to say so plainly. It’s boundary-keeping that returns the pen to Congress. What I think the court should avoid is appearing to write the tariff code from the bench. That swaps democratic ownership for judicial improvisation and guarantees more litigation as a strategy.

In theory, a more public, accountable system would also free everyone to focus on what they do best. That means economists measuring who gains and who pays, lawmakers weighing trade-offs and answering to voters, and courts enforcing the rules – not designing the policy.

The Conversation

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

ref. Congress has been dodging responsibility for tariffs for decades – now the Supreme Court will decide how far presidents can go alone – https://theconversation.com/congress-has-been-dodging-responsibility-for-tariffs-for-decades-now-the-supreme-court-will-decide-how-far-presidents-can-go-alone-268555

The CSA’s revised standard on respirators should help us all breathe easier

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Dick Zoutman, Professor Emeritus, School of Medicine, Queen’s University, Ontario

The CSA Group — a not-for-profit standards organization — released for review a new draft standard on the “Selection, Use, and Care of Respirators” (CSA Z94.4:25) for workplaces, specifically including health care. This new standard is designed to ensure much better protection for health-care workers and for everyone seeking health care.

We live insulated from many dangers because of public measures that protect us from things like contaminated food, shoddy construction, unsafe workplaces and other risks that escalate when producers and employers cut corners that take risks with our safety.

We’re also better protected because of occupational health and safety legislation coupled with standardized safety equipment. Rear-view mirrors? The first cars didn’t have those — now we take them for granted. Like a rear-view mirror, a respirator is a simple device that makes both users and those around them safer.

CSA Group is an independent not-for-profit standards organization with international accreditation, including from the Standards Council or Canada. Since it was founded 1919 as the Canadian Engineering Standards Association, it has helped keep Canadians safer by establishing standards for many products, including safety equipment.

Since the 1980s, it has had a standard for particulate respirators. Canada led the way on safety then, and the new draft CSA respirator standard ensures that Canada is continuing to lead.

The science on respirators

Respirators, a specialized type of mask, are designed to seal against the face so that they effectively filter the air for wearers. They’re made from charged fibres in multiple layers, trapping dangerous particles before they reach the wearer.

Respirators have long been considered essential in many workplaces. Asbestos and paint particles, for instance, should never be inhaled into the lungs. Similarly, health-care workers and patients should not inhale airborne bacteria or viruses. Measles, influenza, COVID, tuberculosis and other pathogens can float in the air, carried inside tiny aerosolized particles that we all produce when we breathe, speak, cough or sneeze.

The evaluation of respirator effectiveness in health care has been intense, especially over years of the COVID-19 pandemic. There have also been significant technical improvements in their design for improved efficacy and comfort. A recent review and meta-analysis that one of us worked on examined more than 400 papers and concluded that respirators significantly reduce transmission.

The draft of the New CSA Standard

Standards are the backbone of public safety. Regular updating of standards ensures that, when science or technology advance, our systems can adapt in a structured, clear and enforceable manner. With the evidence supporting respirator use against airborne disease transmission, particularly for COVID-19, it was time for the CSA to update its respirator standard.

The importance of protecting workers and patients in health-care settings is reflected in the new standard. For the first time ever, it includes an entire section dedicated to health care where pathogen exposure is much more likely — and more likely to cause further spread. As the CSA notes, health care is of particular concern because of the number of health-care workers and the knock-on effects of pathogen spread on “the general population.”

The new edition has been in development by experts from across disciplines for more than two years. The draft — which was removed from CSA Group’s website at the end of the public review period — makes a number of key changes.

It uses a robust, layered approach that incorporates two fundamental concepts in safety: “the hierarchy of controls” and “the precautionary principle.” The first creates a structure for considering all of the different ways that safety can be improved, while the second requires taking steps for safety even in situations where the science is not yet clear (as recommended by the SARS Commission) — in other words, “better safe than sorry.”

For health-care workplaces, important changes include:

● By default the use of respirators by health-care providers throughout the health-care facility is required unless a detailed risk assessment by qualified experts deems a space exempt due to engineered risk reduction (such as displacement ventilation, upper air germicidal ultraviolet radiation, etc.).

● A minimum requirement for Protection Level 1 respirators (for example, CA-N95, NIOSH N95), which provide respiratory protection to the wearer.

● Providing various styles and sizes of respirators for free that meet user comfort, fit and breathability needs, fit testing, training and promoting sustainability, such as through reusable and/or plant-based materials. New designs for respirators make wearing them for long periods much more comfortable due to greater breathability.

The draft CSA respirator standard is evidence-based and necessary to bring workplace protections up to date with science for the benefit of all Canadians, including health-care workers and patients. Expressing concern for safety is not enough to make it happen; the new standard must be accepted into practice, and the relevant provincial and federal health and safety regulations updated to require its adoption.

The Conversation

Dick Zoutman is on the Board of The Canadian COVID Society and serves as an advisor to the Coalition for Community and Healthcare Acquired Infection Reduction.

Julia M. Wright is an uncompensated member of the Board for the Canadian Lung Association. She currently holds an Insight Grant from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada for unrelated research on literature.

Mark Ungrin is an uncompensated volunteer advisor to the Canadian COVID Society and Co-chair of its Legal Committee, and collaborates with the Canadian Aerosol Transmission Coalition. His has received funding from NSERC, SSHRC and CIHR for research in the areas of tissue engineering and synthetic biology that includes relevant biosafety and biosecurity considerations.

Ryan Tennant is an uncompensated volunteer with Ontario School Safety and COVID-19 Resources Canada. He currently holds a Canada Graduate Scholarship from the Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada for unrelated research on paediatric sepsis prediction technologies.

ref. The CSA’s revised standard on respirators should help us all breathe easier – https://theconversation.com/the-csas-revised-standard-on-respirators-should-help-us-all-breathe-easier-265048

¿Y si no somos tan adictos a las pantallas como pensamos?

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By David Lagunas, Profesor Titular de Antropología, Universidad de Sevilla

AstroStar/Shutterstock

En los últimos años se ha especulado mucho sobre los posibles efectos nocivos de las pantallas y los móviles sobre la salud mental o la capacidad de concentración. ¿Existen pruebas sólidas que respalden estas preocupaciones?

¿Los móviles son buenos o son malos? ¿Son útiles? ¿Perdemos humanidad al utilizarlos? ¿Hemos de desintoxicarnos de las pantallas? Para Daniel Miller, antropólogo experto en cultura digital del University College de Londres y uno de los autores de El Smartphone Global: Más allá de una tecnología para jóvenes, si son buenos o malos no es la pregunta correcta: hay que ver qué hace la gente con ellos.

Un móvil es un objeto extraordinario. Los antropólogos observan que los medios digitales son un lugar más en el que viven las personas. Un móvil es “el lugar donde vivimos”, nuestra casa “transportadora”, nuestra “comunidad”. Un adolescente no tiene que coger el autobús o la bicicleta para ir a casa de sus amigos. Puede estar con ellos desde el teléfono.

El móvil también refleja el oportunismo permanente: hacemos una foto cuando observamos algo divertido, una puesta de sol o un bebé que sonríe. También implica disponibilidad constante y conectividad con otras personas. Pero todo ello genera una presión permanente: estamos enganchados al móvil, el WhatsApp no nos deja libres, hay pérdida de atención por las pantallas, dicen los psicólogos.

Cómo se usa el móvil en Jamaica o China

Un equipo de antropólogos a las órdenes de Daniel Miller ha estudiado cómo se usa el móvil en diferentes culturas:

  • En Jamaica sirve para aliviar la pobreza con el intercambio de información sobre trabajo o la búsqueda de ingresos, además de para hacer breves consultas médicas.

  • En Turquía se usa especialmente para comunicarse con la familia.

  • En la India puede ser una herramienta de control de los hombres sobre las mujeres.

  • En China el móvil es muy útil para aliviar los problemas de la gente mayor.

  • En Uganda los jóvenes envían dinero por el móvil a sus parientes mayores para afrontar el elevado coste de la sanidad y los medicamentos.

  • En Japón se hace imprescindible en caso de catástrofes (tsunami, terremotos…).

Lo que hace a un móvil una herramienta inteligente es cómo la gente lo usa “desde abajo”: la creatividad, las capacidades adicionales, el poder estar en contacto permanente con amigos o parientes…. La tecnología es increíblemente diversa porque la utilizamos de muchas maneras, aunque es verdad que algunos usos afectan negativamente a ciertas personas.

La gente mayor no suele usar las aplicaciones de salud instaladas en el móvil, las que miden pasos, pulsaciones o cuántas calorías hemos quemado al día. Usan más WhatsApp para obtener información de salud, conectarse con los médicos o las compañías de seguros.

Las redes sociales como abismo

Sean Parker, el primer presidente de Facebook, reconocía que Facebook “es un bucle de retroalimentación basado en la validación social… porque estás explotando una vulnerabilidad en la psicología humana”.

Algunas redes tienen como lema implícito eso de que mis palabras no importan y yo no importo, pero todo el mundo debería escucharme de todos modos. Geert Lovink, investigador sobre medios interactivos en la Universidad Hogeschool van Amsterdam (Holanda), afirma que las redes sociales nos abocan al abismo y generan tristeza tecnológica. Suponen una distracción organizada y cierta dependencia, ya que funcionan como un aspirador social. Somos aspirados de vuelta para volver continuamente a las pantallas.

Amy Orben, profesor de la Universidad de Cambridge, ha estudiado el impacto de las pantallas en los adolescentes. Las pantallas pueden estimular la dopamina con ciclos de alzas en nuestro humor, seguidos de largos periodos de estancamiento, antes de terminar colapsando. Permanecer conectado ya no sirve porque pasamos de intensas experiencias de satisfacción a periodos de incertidumbre laboral, familiar y emocional o sumidos en el aburrimiento.

Si las redes sociales son una adicción, como el tabaco y el alcohol, y nos mantienen enganchado al sistema, ¿la solución es salirse de una plataforma?, ¿una desintoxicación digital?, ¿hacer terapia? Si esta fuera la solución, se actuaría solo sobre los síntomas y no sobre las causas.

Para Orben las redes sociales todavía ofrecen muchos beneficios. Proporcionan placer, se entabla amistad, se corteja, se adquieren conocimientos o se encuentra un empleo. No estamos enfermos y no somos adictos.

La cara más y menos amable

Orben rompe con la idea simplista que asocia redes sociales, jóvenes y adicción. El impacto de las aplicaciones no depende tanto del tiempo de uso como del tipo de contenido que se consume. No hay una señal contundente en los estudios que muestre un vínculo inequívoco entre las redes sociales y un menor bienestar: hay efectos más negativos en dormir poco, fumar marihuana o no comer bien que por el uso de redes sociales.

Pero también hay un lado negativo, explican algunos expertos, en el uso de las redes sociales. Por ejemplo, la aparición de la “generación muda”: la reticencia entre los adolescentes y jóvenes a tener intercambios verbales directos o conversar por teléfono. En su lugar, se utiliza WhatsApp o notas de voz y se pierden habilidades sociales y comunicativas.

Cuando un mensaje de texto es enviado a alguien hay una expectativa por recibir una respuesta. Esta espera es la “texto-expectativa”, la experiencia prolongada y dolorosa de anticipar un mensaje de texto, señala Geert Lovink. El fantasma electrónico del otro nos acecha: “cada vez que vibra mi teléfono móvil, espero que seas tú”. Y eso genera ansiedad. “El otro no espera nunca: yo soy el que espera”, como la/el enamorada/o que espera una señal de su amada/o.

Fear Of Missing Out o FOMO es el deseo por vincularse con otros y con el mundo. Es estar estudiando en nuestra casa para un examen y pensar en lo que nos perdemos porque nuestros amigos están en el bar. En las redes sociales ocurre algo parecido –además del voyeurismo online: la forma fría y desapegada de la cultura de la vigilancia que evita la interacción directa–.

Echamos un ojo a las actualizaciones y a la bandeja de entrada por la misma razón por la que soñamos despiertos: para eliminar el aburrimiento. Revisar continuamente el móvil es la forma actual de soñar despierto y trasladar la mente a otro lado. El uso de redes sociales crea una forma modificada de conciencia y un estado de alerta de lo demás. Una tecnotelepatía.

Sin embargo, las grandes tecnológicas nos manipulan mediante algoritmos diseñados para captar nuestra atención. Esta manipulación permanece sin regular. Si las plataformas no estuvieran programadas para engancharnos, quizás usaríamos las pantallas de forma más consciente y equilibrada, recuperando el control sobre nuestro tiempo.

Sí, todas estas cosas son la cara menos amable de las pantallas, pero los móviles no son ni buenos ni malos por sí mismos: depende del uso que hagamos de ellos. Más que demonizar la tecnología o caer en alarmas infundadas, necesitamos comprender cómo nos relacionamos con las pantallas y encontrar un equilibrio consciente entre conexión digital y bienestar real.

The Conversation

David Lagunas 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. ¿Y si no somos tan adictos a las pantallas como pensamos? – https://theconversation.com/y-si-no-somos-tan-adictos-a-las-pantallas-como-pensamos-258782

Cómo autocontrolar la presión arterial sin cometer errores

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Victoria Mazoteras Pardo, PROFESORA TITULAR DE UNIVERSIDAD, Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha

Fernando Avendano/Shutterstock

La hipertensión es traicionera: normalmente no avisa. Solo midiéndola correctamente con regularidad podemos detectarla, hacer seguimiento y evitar que se complique dando lugar a enfermedades cardiovasculares, que son la primera causa de muerte en el mundo.

Lo malo es que, según la Organización Mundial de la Salud, una de cada tres personas adultas tiene la tensión elevada y más de la mitad lo desconoce. La evidencia muestra que hasta un 80-90 % de las dudas en el diagnóstico o el control podrían resolverse mediante mediciones realizadas por el propio paciente, siempre que se sigan criterios correctos y se utilicen dispositivos validados.

El autocontrol de la presión arterial es un reto

Medirse a uno mismo la presión arterial (AMPA, siglas de Automedición de la Presión Arterial), pese a parecer sencillo, es una tarea rodeada de errores frecuentes. Para colmo, en ocasiones usamos dispositivos de dudosa validez.

Tiene como ventaja que ofrece valores más representativos de la presión arterial real, evitando el “efecto de bata blanca”, que puede dar cifras de tensión alta en la consulta, o la “hipertensión enmascarada”, que se produce cuando las mediciones son normales en el centro sanitario pero altas en casa. Medir la tensión arterial en el entorno doméstico, habitual, predice mejor el riesgo cardiovascular.

Además, la automedición fomenta la participación activa del paciente, mejora la adherencia al tratamiento y reduce la necesidad de visitas clínicas, además de contribuir a la prevención incluso en personas sin hipertensión.

Quién puede realizar la automedición

Antes de recomendar la AMPA, los profesionales deben valorar si el paciente o su cuidador son candidatos adecuados. Deben descartarse limitaciones físicas o cognitivas que impidan el manejo del aparato, y evitarla en casos de arritmias graves, temblores intensos o un alto nivel de nerviosismo ante la toma.

Además, el paciente debe aprender el uso del dispositivo, la frecuencia de medición y las condiciones adecuadas mediante una correcta educación sanitaria. Sin una formación correcta, la automedición puede generar errores o ansiedad.

Las guías aconsejan realizarla durante siete días consecutivos, tres veces por la mañana y tres por la noche, descartando el primer día y calculando la media del resto. Para el seguimiento a largo plazo, bastaría con repetirla uno o dos días por semana.

Errores frecuentes que alteran los resultados

Los fallos más comunes se deben a factores internos (estrés, dolor, arritmias) o externos (postura incorrecta, manguito inadecuado o falta de reposo).

La medición debe hacerse en una habitación tranquila con una temperatura entre 20 y 25 ºC, tras cinco minutos de reposo, evitando comer, fumar o hacer ejercicio media hora antes. El brazo debe apoyarse a la altura del corazón, la espalda recta y los pies en el suelo. El manguito ha de colocarse directamente sobre la piel, ajustado pero sin comprimir.

Los dispositivos de muñeca solo son recomendables cuando el de brazo no puede usarse. En la primera sesión se aconseja medir ambos brazos y tomar como referencia el que muestre valores más altos.

No todos los dispositivos son iguales

Muchos dispositivos, incluidos relojes inteligentes y aplicaciones móviles, no han sido validados ni calibrados según los estándares internacionales.

Un error de pocos milímetros de mercurio puede alterar un diagnóstico. Por ello, los tensiómetros para AMPA deben ser automáticos, de brazo y con marcado CE. Su exactitud debe estar respaldada por protocolos de validación reconocidos, como el acuerdo AAMI/ESH/ISO, y figurar en las listas de dispositivos validados de iniciativas como STRIDE BP.

Las guías recomiendan revisarlos al menos una vez al año para asegurar su calibración.

La salud digital como aliada

Las nuevas tecnologías han abierto un escenario prometedor. La llamada M-Salud permite monitorizar la presión arterial mediante aplicaciones, relojes inteligentes y plataformas digitales. Se estima que la mitad de los usuarios de teléfonos recopilan información sobre su salud y uno de cada cinco utiliza una app sanitaria.

En la hipertensión, estas herramientas ayudan a reducir la presión arterial en torno a 5 mmHg, mejoran la adherencia al tratamiento y aumentan la conciencia sobre factores que influyen en la tensión, como el estrés o la actividad física. Además, facilitan la comunicación entre pacientes y profesionales y reducen costes sanitarios al evitar visitas innecesarias.

Aun así, no todas las aplicaciones son fiables. Es fundamental elegir aquellas basadas en evidencia científica y con respaldo de instituciones sanitarias.

En un mundo donde las enfermedades cardiovasculares siguen siendo la principal causa de muerte, promover el conocimiento ciudadano sobre cómo y cuándo medirse la tensión es una herramienta poderosa de prevención.

Medir bien la tensión no es un gesto trivial: es una forma de participar activamente en el propio cuidado y de reducir el impacto de la hipertensión en la población.

The Conversation

Victoria Mazoteras Pardo 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 autocontrolar la presión arterial sin cometer errores – https://theconversation.com/como-autocontrolar-la-presion-arterial-sin-cometer-errores-267148

¿En qué se parecen un hospital sueco, un alemán y un español?

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Laura Cambra Rufino, Profesora Arquitectura, Universidad Politécnica de Madrid (UPM)

Cuando se diseña un hospital, ¿se valora más el número de camas o los metros cuadrados por habitación? ¿A qué se da prioridad? ¿Se hace igual en España que en Alemania o Suecia? ¿Existen diseños más eficientes que otros?

La comparación de métricas (benchmarking) entre proyectos es una práctica habitual en el campo de la salud. Pero no suele ser común para comparar edificios, y menos aún los hospitales, más complejos.

Una encuesta internacional reciente en cinco idiomas distintos (inglés, sueco, italiano, alemán y español) nos aclara qué datos se usan para planificar y diseñar hospitales, y cómo varían según el país o el tipo de organización.

¿Qué se compara exactamente?

Los datos relacionados con superficies son los más valorados en todo el mundo, ya sea superficie por departamento, superficie por habitación o metros cuadrados por cama. También se tienen en cuenta el tipo de cliente (público o privado), el año de construcción y si se trata de una obra nueva o una reforma.

Los datos sobre costes resultan igualmente relevantes. En especial, el coste por metro cuadrado construido. Otros indicadores interesantes son la duración de la estancia, el tipo de paciente, las especialidades médicas y la distribución de las habitaciones.

¿Qué ventajas y límites tiene comparar proyectos?

Comparar usando datos de otros hospitales permite tomar mejores decisiones. No solo porque ayuda a identificar diseños más eficientes, sino también porque permite descubrir buenas prácticas, mejorar la comunicación con el cliente y reducir errores.

No obstante, algunos profesionales creen que usar demasiados estándares puede limitar la creatividad. Otros alertan de que los datos pueden estar desactualizados o no ser comparables entre países. Además, muchas veces las empresas no comparten información fuera de su entorno, lo que dificulta la creación de bases de datos abiertas.

Por otro lado, algunos países exportan más conocimiento que otros. Profesionales del diseño hospitalario de Estados Unidos, Alemania, Italia, España o Suecia acostumbran a trabajar fuera de sus fronteras. En cambio, es raro que estos países reciban a profesionales del exterior. Por eso, se dice que estos países exportan conocimiento, mientras que regiones como Sudamérica, África, Asia u Oriente Medio la importan con más frecuencia.

Exportación de conocimiento sobre arquitecutra hospitalaria entre países. Relación del país de procedencia de las personas encuestadas en el estudio y los países donde trabajan.
Silja Viergutz HK, Cambra-Rufino L, Apple M, Heithoff A, Lindahl G, Capolongo S, Brambilla A. Benchmarking Relevance for Hospital Design and Planning: An International Web-Based Survey. HERD. 2024 Jul;17(3):189-208. doi: 10.1177/19375867241239324. Epub 20

En definitiva, a pesar de las diferencias culturales y geográficas, tanto el hospital sueco, como el alemán y el español se enfrentan a desafíos similares. El envejecimiento de la población, los rápidos avances en la tecnología médica y las crisis sanitarias exigen rediseñar nuestras infraestructuras. En este escenario, compartir métricas de referencia entre países no solo permitiría aprender unos de otros, sino también orientar de manera más eficiente la inversión de los recursos destinados al futuro de los hospitales.




Leer más:
¿Cómo mejorar el diseño de los hospitales?


The Conversation

Laura Cambra Rufino ha recibido fondos públicos durante su etapa predoctoral (contrato FPU Ministerio) y postdoctoral (Margarita Salas).

Hannah-Kathrin Viergutz 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. ¿En qué se parecen un hospital sueco, un alemán y un español? – https://theconversation.com/en-que-se-parecen-un-hospital-sueco-un-aleman-y-un-espanol-262265

Aprender a tocar un instrumento: cómo pasar de la práctica a la creatividad

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Fátima Olivares Iglesias, Psicologia y Ciencias de la Educación, UNIR – Universidad Internacional de La Rioja

Minerva Studio/Shutterstock

¿Cómo pudo Beethoven crear la Novena Sinfonía estando completamente sordo? Probablemente, la respuesta no está solamente en su talento musical, sino en una habilidad mental prodigiosa: la autorregulación. El gran genio no necesitaba oír físicamente el sonido, puesto que lo planificaba, supervisaba y autoevaluaba en su mente críticamente.

Ahora, traslademos esta escena a la realidad de cualquier conservatorio de hoy en día. Tras las lecciones, la mayor parte de los estudiantes afrontan su práctica de instrumento utilizando como método la repetición de un pasaje de modo mecánico. Cuando no avanzan al ritmo deseado se sienten frustrados. El sonido está ahí, pero les falta la brújula interna que usaba Beethoven.

La clave no está en practicar más, sino en practicar mejor, utilizando estrategias que ayuden al músico a autorregular su proceso creativo.

Del piloto automático al mando consciente

Un músico experto conoce sus fortalezas y debilidades: es capaz de establecer unos objetivos concretos en cada sesión, supervisar su ejecución en tiempo real para detectar errores y autoevaluar su resultado de modo crítico. Por el contrario, un músico principiante suele tener escasas habilidades para autorregularse. Su método de estudio centrado en la repetición sin rumbo, a menudo poco eficiente, le lleva al agotamiento y a la frustración.

Para alentar el paso de esta práctica automática a una práctica consciente y creativa durante el aprendizaje, el psicólogo educativo estadunidense Barry J. Zimmerman propuso crear un “andamio mental” que nos obliga a pasar por las fases de planificación, supervisión y evaluación.

Este andamio permite al músico principiante comprender cómo aprende, y diseñar herramientas para tomar el control. Pasará de ser un repetidor mecánico a un gestor de desafíos, ajustando sus técnicas creativamente para alcanzar su objetivo.

Andamios mentales para tocar un instrumento

El andamio consiste en rutinas de pensamiento: son los soportes que nos dan la estructura concreta para tomar del control.

Un ejemplo de ello sería responder de modo estructurado a preguntas como:

  • ¿Cuál es mi objetivo para hoy?

  • ¿Lo estoy haciendo bien?

  • ¿Qué funcionó bien o no funcionó?




Leer más:
¿Cómo cambia nuestro cerebro la práctica musical?


Veamos un ejemplo a través de una rutina que llamaremos “el arquitecto musical”:

  1. En la planificación, el músico analiza la partitura para identificar patrones específicos (como reconocer que un pasaje complejo son arpegios de Sol mayor con síncopas) y define objetivos medibles: por ejemplo, en una sesión de estudio lograr descomponer los arpegios y practicarlos aisladamente hasta adquirir velocidad.

  2. Durante la supervisión, detecta problemas técnicos en tiempo real (como un dedo que no llega a tiempo en una transición) y aplica estrategias inmediatas como aislar compases o ajustar digitaciones.

  3. Finalmente, en la evaluación, reflexiona críticamente sobre los resultados obtenidos y extrae conclusiones estratégicas para sesiones futuras, transformando la práctica repetitiva en un ciclo de mejora continua y autonomía.

Este tipo de “andamios cognitivos” activan la corteza prefrontal, sede de las funciones ejecutivas, permitiendo planificar la solución a un problema, supervisar la ejecución en tiempo real y gestionar la interpretación creativa.

Las rutinas de pensamiento ofrecen además un contexto en el que ser más creativo con la práctica musical, pues no se ha limitado a repetir, sino que ha pensado activamente sobre el pasaje y ha diseñado su propio camino de aprendizaje.

Una investigación con estudiantes de bajo eléctrico

Para comprobar la eficacia de estas herramientas, realizamos una investigación con cinco estudiantes de bajo eléctrico. La edad de estos alumnos abarcaba desde los 13 hasta los 45 años, lo cual refleja la diversidad de edades y perfiles de los estudiantes que los docentes de conservatorio encuentran en sus aulas.

En primer lugar, todos los alumnos respondieron un cuestionario de regulación metacognitiva musical que mide si planifican sus prácticas, si detectan errores y si evalúan su progreso.




Leer más:
Los estudiantes no pueden vivir sin música: cómo acercar la que enseñamos a la que escuchan


A continuación, durante dos semanas, se entrenó a los estudiantes en el uso de rutinas de pensamiento para fomentar la pausa y la reflexión. Así, antes de iniciar la práctica musical se preguntaban: ¿conozco la estructura de la pieza? ¿He escuchado alguna versión?

Mientras tocaban: ¿empiezo con una velocidad suficientemente lenta? ¿anoto las dudas o dificultades? Y al finalizar: ¿sé cómo quiero que suene? ¿Puedo tocarlo con metrónomo o con un play along (una pista musical de acompañamiento)? Tras el periodo de práctica, volvieron a responder al cuestionario.

El análisis confirmó mejoras estadísticamente significativas en todas las puntuaciones de autorregulación. Todos los alumnos fueron más estratégicos en su planificación, ofrecían soluciones más creativas ante las dificultades y eran más críticos en su autoevaluación. No solo sentían que estudiaban mejor, sino que su método de estudio había cambiado.

Circuitos motores más corteza prefrontal

Los hallazgos apuntan a la posibilidad de dar un giro a la forma de estudiar y enseñar música. La práctica basada la repetición automática, que activa los circuitos motores, debe estar unida a una práctica estratégica que involucre activamente la corteza prefrontal.

De este modo, se entrena y habilita la creatividad, pues al construir una base sólida de conocimiento, técnica y capacidad de decisión, el aprendiz desarrolla su brújula interna para producir algo único y personal. El aprendizaje musical se convierte en un proceso mucho más creativo, profundo y motivador.

Creatividad: el capitán del barco

La creatividad no aparecerá por arte de magia tras una práctica más eficiente, sino porque al autorregular el estudio se activa la corteza prefrontal, “el capitán del barco”, es decir, la región cerebral encargada de planificar, tomar decisiones y evaluar resultados.

Cuando el músico deja de repetir de forma automática y empieza a analizar conscientemente qué está haciendo –por qué un pasaje no fluye, qué emoción quiere transmitir, o cómo variar la dinámica para lograrlo– involucra redes cerebrales asociadas al pensamiento divergente y la resolución de problemas. La técnica se conecta con la intención expresiva: el intérprete ya no se limita a ejecutar notas, sino que piensa, elige y crea.

La próxima vez que escuchen a un músico brillante, reflexionen sobre la invisible pero poderosa orquestación de su mente. Seguro que detrás de cada nota hay horas de práctica deliberada, pero unidas a una estrategia consciente y poderosa.


El estudio en el que se basa este artículo se pudo realizar gracias a la ayuda del docente Francisco Javier Folch Segarra.

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. Aprender a tocar un instrumento: cómo pasar de la práctica a la creatividad – https://theconversation.com/aprender-a-tocar-un-instrumento-como-pasar-de-la-practica-a-la-creatividad-266000

The planet wants you to eat more offal – here’s how to increase consumption

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Tennessee Randall, PhD Candidate in Social Psychology, Swansea University

Many people in the UK are not keen to eat offal, but there’s an environmental movement that suggests eating the whole animal has benefits. Scout901/Shutterstock

Meat has a large environmental impact, but could consuming more of it be part of the answer?

Meat-eaters in western countries today typically focus on the muscle tissue of animals and often avoid consuming offal (internal organs like the heart, liver and kidney). But eating more offal could lower the number of animals that are killed for food and so the greenhouse gases produced by the meat industry.

Offal also has potential health benefits. It’s packed with protein, vitamins, minerals and essential fatty acids and often contains more nutrients than the meat that we would usually eat. For example, 100 grams of liver provides around 36% of your recommended daily iron but eating the same amount of minced meat would provide around 12%.

Offal was once a popular food choice in the UK during the second world war. In Japan, eating offal is motivated by cultural values such as mottainai, which describes a sense of regret around being wasteful. Similarly, “nose-to-tail” eating is becoming more popular in the UK, which is also based on principles around reducing food waste and respecting the animal’s sacrifice.

The nose-to-tail cooking movement is taking off.

Despite the potential health and environmental benefits, getting consumers to accept offal is more difficult than one might expect. Typically, people who haven’t tried offal are disgusted by the thought of eating it and often consider it to be contaminated. Others are put off because they just don’t know how to make a tasty meal that their children will also eat.

One way to overcome this is to use offal in a familiar meal with other ingredients. I explored this with other researchers in a recent study of 390 UK meat eaters. Specifically, we looked at their opinions of offal in its natural form and compared it to when offal (liver and kidney) was included as an ingredient within minced meat (for instance, “offal-enriched” mince).

We found the offal-enriched mince was considered more acceptable and was expected to be tastier, more satisfying, intriguing and easier to prepare than livers and kidneys. Although, livers and kidneys were expected to be more natural, have less fat and better for the environment than offal-enriched mince.

Men v women

When we compared these ratings across men and women, it was clear that men felt more positive about eating “pure” offal than women. Whereas men and women expressed similar opinions about eating offal within minced meat.

We also compared opinions across six different types of offal-enriched meals, which included a burger, curry, spaghetti bolognese, meatballs, shepherd’s pie and a stir fry. The spaghetti bolognese was a clear favourite for its expected taste, but people were equally curious to try the stir fry, which they also believed would be healthier and more natural than the other meals.

Consumers also answered questions on their personality type and motives for choosing food, which meant we could flesh out the psychology behind why some people are more open to trying offal-enriched meals than others.

On the plus side, it turns out that people who prioritise their health when choosing food think offal-enriched meals would be tastier and more intriguing. However, people who are fearful of eating new foods think the opposite. In psychology, this is known as “food neophobia” and has been linked with less healthier food choices in some populations. In our sample, women had higher food neophobia than men.

Tackling the stigma

There may also be some stigma around eating offal, as we found that people who were more likely to control how they were viewed by others formed more negative opinions of offal-enriched meals. This type of social interaction is known as “impression management” and has been shown to influence food choices.

Much of the offal produced in the UK is exported because the consumer demand is low. This means that offal is much cheaper than other meat cuts, such as a steak or a lamb’s leg. However, this could fuel misperceptions about the meat being a lower quality, or that it is chosen by those who cannot afford the expensive cuts.

In reality, eating more of the animal could support a healthy diet and could be a more achievable recommendation for sustainable eating, especially for the men who love their meat.


Don’t have time to read about climate change as much as you’d like?

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The Conversation

Tennessee Randall receives funding from the Economic Social Research Council Wales Doctoral Training Partnership.

ref. The planet wants you to eat more offal – here’s how to increase consumption – https://theconversation.com/the-planet-wants-you-to-eat-more-offal-heres-how-to-increase-consumption-267051

Design and technology’s practical and creative skills should see it revived in the school curriculum

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Matt McLain, Senior Lecturer in Education and Professional Learning, Liverpool John Moores University

AnnaStills/Shutterstock

Studying design and technology (D&T) at school gives children the opportunity to get up from behind a desk and learn practical skills. It’s the only subject in the national curriculum in which children can develop and create tangible solutions to real problems.

They can get an insight into whether they might enjoy careers in design, fashion, engineering, technology or food. And they can learn skills that will be useful to them at home, in the workplace and in society.

D&T could play a crucial role in the government’s aim to revitalise the national curriculum in England, enrich children’s learning, and prepare young people for vocational education and training. The practical and hands-on approach children learn through D&T in primary and secondary schools can raise their awareness of vocational options and prepare them for technical and vocational education after their GCSEs, whether or not they chose an overtly D&T-related career pathway.

Once a thriving part of the national curriculum, D&T has suffered years of decline. The ongoing review of the national curriculum in England provides the ideal opportunity for national education policy to revive the value of practical and creative learning for its pupils.

D&T was a compulsory GCSE until 2004. It has since plummeted in popularity. The number of GCSE entries has shrunk in England from over 400,000 entries in 2004 to 137,016 in 2025. School funding has also decreased in real terms, affecting relatively expensive subjects such as D&T.

Graph of D&T GCSE entries
GCSE Design and Technology entries from 1996 to 2024.
Matt McLain, CC BY-NC-SA

The introduction of the English Baccalaureate (EBacc), which compares schools based on how many students take certain GCSEs, has added to this issue. The EBacc is weighted towards traditionally academic subjects: English, maths, the sciences, geography or history and a language. It incentivises schools to encourage students towards these subjects.

The knock-on effect of this has been the drastic reduction of curriculum time and budgets for more practical and creative subjects, such as D&T, in many secondary schools. This prioritisation of certain subjects over others may also affect how young people think about learning skills that prepare them for work in the creative and manufacturing industries.

Boy using sewing machine in class
Design and technology teaches young people practical skills.
BearFotos/Shutterstock

There also aren’t enough D&T teachers. Government census data for England shows that in 2024-25, just 618 D&T trainees were recruited – 39% of the target number. It was an even lower number the year before.

Bursaries for new teachers are also lower for D&T than for subjects such as chemistry, computing, mathematics and physics. This means graduates in Stem subjects – science, technology, engineering and maths – who would be good candidates to teach D&T may opt for science or maths instead. In 2018, the Department for Education excluded D&T from a list of what it considered Stem subjects.

Yet in a world facing rapid technological change, climate challenges and skills shortages, practical and creative subjects such as D&T are more vital than ever. England faces a critical skills gap in design, engineering and manufacturing. These are industries essential for growth.

The World Economic Forum’s 2025 Future of Jobs report outlines the core skills prioritised by employers. Many of these are promoted by D&T: they include creative thinking, technological literacy, quality control, and design and user experience.

Design and technology is not a nostalgic throwback or a soft alternative to academic rigour. It is a challenging and vital part of preparing young people for the future. As England faces economic, environmental and social challenges, we need a curriculum that equips students to think creatively, solve real-world problems and engage with technology meaningfully.

The final report of England’s review of school curriculum and assessment, due for publication this autumn, presents an opportunity for a renaissance in practical and creative learning, as well as a revaluing of experience alongside knowledge.

The Conversation

Matt McLain received funding from the Department for Education to draft the current subject content for GCSE and A Level design and technology. He is also a trustee for the Design and Technology Association, who support the teaching of the subject in schools.

ref. Design and technology’s practical and creative skills should see it revived in the school curriculum – https://theconversation.com/design-and-technologys-practical-and-creative-skills-should-see-it-revived-in-the-school-curriculum-266123

Why do some of us love AI, while others hate it? The answer is in how our brains perceive risk and trust

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Paul Jones, Associate Dean for Education and Student Experience at Aston Business School, Aston University

Kundra

From ChatGPT crafting emails, to AI systems recommending TV shows and even helping diagnose disease, the presence of machine intelligence in everyday life is no longer science fiction.

And yet, for all the promises of speed, accuracy and optimisation, there’s a lingering discomfort. Some people love using AI tools. Others feel anxious, suspicious, even betrayed by them. Why?

The answer isn’t just about how AI works. It’s about how we work. We don’t understand it, so we don’t trust it. Human beings are more likely to trust systems they understand. Traditional tools feel familiar: you turn a key, and a car starts. You press a button, and a lift arrives.

But many AI systems operate as black boxes: you type something in, and a decision appears. The logic in between is hidden. Psychologically, this is unnerving. We like to see cause and effect, and we like being able to interrogate decisions. When we can’t, we feel disempowered.

This is one reason for what’s called algorithm aversion. This is a term popularised by the marketing researcher Berkeley Dietvorst and colleagues, whose research showed that people often prefer flawed human judgement over algorithmic decision making, particularly after witnessing even a single algorithmic error.

We know, rationally, that AI systems don’t have emotions or agendas. But that doesn’t stop us from projecting them on to AI systems. When ChatGPT responds “too politely”, some users find it eerie. When a recommendation engine gets a little too accurate, it feels intrusive. We begin to suspect manipulation, even though the system has no self.

This is a form of anthropomorphism – that is, attributing humanlike intentions to nonhuman systems. Professors of communication Clifford Nass and Byron Reeves, along with others have demonstrated that we respond socially to machines, even knowing they’re not human.

We hate when AI gets it wrong

One curious finding from behavioural science is that we are often more forgiving of human error than machine error. When a human makes a mistake, we understand it. We might even empathise. But when an algorithm makes a mistake, especially if it was pitched as objective or data-driven, we feel betrayed.

This links to research on expectation violation, when our assumptions about how something “should” behave are disrupted. It causes discomfort and loss of trust. We trust machines to be logical and impartial. So when they fail, such as misclassifying an image, delivering biased outputs or recommending something wildly inappropriate, our reaction is sharper. We expected more.

The irony? Humans make flawed decisions all the time. But at least we can ask them “why?”

Students increasingly turn to AI chatbots to help them draft essays.
Teaching is among the professions where AI is replacing parts of their work.
BongkarnGraphic / Shutterstock

For some, AI isn’t just unfamiliar, it’s existentially unsettling. Teachers, writers, lawyers and designers are suddenly confronting tools that replicate parts of their work. This isn’t just about automation, it’s about what makes our skills valuable, and what it means to be human.

This can activate a form of identity threat, a concept explored by social psychologist Claude Steele and others. It describes the fear that one’s expertise or uniqueness is being diminished. The result? Resistance, defensiveness or outright dismissal of the technology. Distrust, in this case, is not a bug – it’s a psychological defence mechanism.

Craving emotional cues

Human trust is built on more than logic. We read tone, facial expressions, hesitation and eye contact. AI has none of these. It might be fluent, even charming. But it doesn’t reassure us the way another person can.

This is similar to the discomfort of the uncanny valley, a term coined by Japanese roboticist Masahiro Mori to describe the eerie feeling when something is almost human, but not quite. It looks or sounds right, but something feels off. That emotional absence can be interpreted as coldness, or even deceit.

In a world full of deepfakes and algorithmic decisions, that missing emotional resonance becomes a problem. Not because the AI is doing anything wrong, but because we don’t know how to feel about it.

It’s important to say: not all suspicion of AI is irrational. Algorithms have been shown to reflect and reinforce bias, especially in areas like recruitment, policing and credit scoring. If you’ve been harmed or disadvantaged by data systems before, you’re not being paranoid, you’re being cautious.

This links to a broader psychological idea: learned distrust. When institutions or systems repeatedly fail certain groups, scepticism becomes not only reasonable, but protective.

Telling people to “trust the system” rarely works. Trust must be earned. That means designing AI tools that are transparent, interrogable and accountable. It means giving users agency, not just convenience. Psychologically, we trust what we understand, what we can question and what treats us with respect.

If we want AI to be accepted, it needs to feel less like a black box, and more like a conversation we’re invited to join.

The Conversation

Paul Jones 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. Why do some of us love AI, while others hate it? The answer is in how our brains perceive risk and trust – https://theconversation.com/why-do-some-of-us-love-ai-while-others-hate-it-the-answer-is-in-how-our-brains-perceive-risk-and-trust-268588