Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Gordon A. Gow, Director, Media & Technology Studies, University of Alberta

Earlier this year, a band called The Velvet Sundown racked up hundreds of thousands of streams on Spotify with retro-pop tracks, generating a million monthly listeners on Spotify.

But the band wasn’t real. Every song, image, and even its back story, had been generated by someone using generative AI.

For some, it was a clever experiment. For others, it revealed a troubling lack of transparency in music creation, even though the band’s Spotify descriptor was later updated to acknowledge it is composed with AI.

In September 2025, Spotify announced it is “helping develop and will support the new industry standard for AI disclosures in music credits developed through DDEX.” DDEX is a not-for-profit membership organization focused on the creation of digital music value chain standards.

The company also says it’s focusing work on improved enforcement of impersonation violations and a new spam-filtering system, and that updates are “the latest in a series of changes we’re making to support a more trustworthy music ecosystem for artists, for rights-holders and for listeners.”

As AI becomes more embedded in music creation, the challenge is balancing its legitimate creative use with the ethical and economic pressures it introduces. Disclosure is essential not just for accountability, but to give listeners transparent and user-friendly choices in the artists they support.

A patchwork of policies

The music industry’s response to AI has so far been a mix of ad hoc enforcement as platforms grapple with how to manage emerging uses and expectations of AI in music.

Apple Music took aim at impersonation when it pulled the viral track “Heart on My Sleeve” featuring AI-cloned vocals of Drake and The Weeknd. The removal was prompted by a copyright complaint reflecting concerns over misuse of artists’ likeness and voice.

The indie-facing song promotion platform SubmitHub has introduced measures to combate AI-generated spam. Artists must declare if AI played “a major role” in a track. The platform also has an “AI Song Checker” so playlist curators can scan files to detect AI use.

Spotify’s announcement adds another dimension to these efforts. By focusing on disclosure, it recognizes that artists use AI in many different ways across music creation and production. Rather than banning these practices, it opens the door to an AI labelling system that makes them more transparent.

Labelling creative content

Content labelling has long been used to help audiences make informed choices about their media consumption. Movies, TV and music come with parental advisories, for example.

Digital music files also include embedded information tags called metadata, which include details like genre, tempo and contributing artists that platforms use to categorize songs, calculate royalty payments and to suggest new songs to listeners.

Canada has relied on labelling for decades to strengthen its domestic music industry. The MAPL system requires radio stations to play a minimum percentage of Canadian music, using a set of criteria to determine whether a song qualifies as Canadian content based on music, artist, production and lyrics.

Read more:
How do we define Canadian content? Debates will shape how creatives make a living

As more algorithmically generated AI music appears on streaming platforms, an AI disclosure label would give listeners a way to discover music that matches their preferences, whether they’re curious about AI collaboration or drawn to more traditional human-crafted approaches.

What could AI music labels address?

A disclosure standard will make AI music labelling possible. The next step is cultural: deciding how much information should be shared with listeners, and in what form.

According to Spotify, artists and rights-holders will be asked to specify where and how AI contributed to a track. For example, whether it was used for vocals, instrumentation or post-production work such as mixing or mastering.

For artists, these details better reflect how AI tools fit into a long tradition of creative use of new technologies. After all, the synthesizer, drum machines and samplers — even the electric guitar — were all once controversial.

But AI disclosure shouldn’t give streaming platforms a free pass to flood catalogues with algorithmically generated content. The point should also be to provide information to listeners to help them make more informed choices about what kind of music they want to support.

Information about AI use should be easy to see and quickly find. But on Spotify’s Velvet Sundown profile, for example, this is dubious: listeners have to dig down to actually read the band’s descriptor.

Read more:
The triumph of vinyl: Vintage is back as LP sales continue to skyrocket

AI and creative tensions in music

AI in music raises pressing issues, including around labour and compensation, industry power dynamics, as well as licensing and rights.

One study commissioned by the International Confederation of Societies of Authors and Composers has said that Gen AI outputs could put 24 per cent of music creators’ revenues at risk by 2028, at a time when many musician careers are already vulnerable to high costs of living and an unpredictable and unstable streaming music economy.

The most popular AI music platforms are controlled by major tech companies. Will AI further concentrate creative power, or are there tools that might cut production costs and become widely used by independent artists? Will artists be compensated if their labels are involved in deals for artists’ music to train AI platforms?

The cultural perception around musicians having their music train AI platforms or in using AI tools in music production is also a site of creative tension.

Read more:
AI can make up songs now, but who owns the copyright? The answer is complicated

Enabling listener choice

Turning a disclosure standard into something visible — such as an intuitive label or icon that allows users to go deeper to show how AI was used — would let listeners see at a glance how human and algorithmic contributions combine in a track.

Embedded in the digital song file, it could also help fans and arts organizations discover and support music based on the kind of creativity behind it.

Ultimately, it’s about giving listeners a choice. A clear, well-designed labelling system could help audiences understand the many ways AI now shapes music, from subtle production tools to fully synthetic vocals.

Need for transparency

As influence of AI in music creation continues to expand, listeners deserve to know how the sounds they love are made — and artists deserve the chance to explain it.

Easy-to-understand AI music labels would turn disclosure into something beyond compliance: it might also invite listeners to think more deeply about the creative process behind the music they love.

Gordon A. Gow receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC).

Brian Fauteux 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 industry-standard labels for AI in music could change how we listen – https://theconversation.com/why-industry-standard-labels-for-ai-in-music-could-change-how-we-listen-262840

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Billie Anderson, Lecturer, Disability Studies, King’s University College, Western University

In Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein, the true horror lies in scientist Victor Frankenstein’s hubris and refusal to care for The Creature he creates.

Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel Frankenstein gave The Creature an eloquent voice — but cinema has often silenced him, rendering him mute, groaning and monstrous in both appearance and behaviour.

Del Toro’s Frankenstein, which arrives in select theatres and on Netflix this fall, presents a Creature who thinks, feels, suffers and demands recognition.

The film, which I saw recently at its Toronto International Film Festival screening, restores to The Creature not only speech, but also, as some reviewers have noted, subjectivity.

Del Toro’s Frankenstein offers audiences a chance to reconsider how we regard “the monster,” not just in horror cinema, but in stories that reflect attitudes about difference — especially difference in embodiment.

Depictions of bodily difference

The tendency for film to punish difference has long persisted. From the silent era onward, films have used bodily difference as shorthand for inner corruption: the scarred face, the twisted body, the corrupt mind.

Disability studies scholar Angela Smith argues that the horror genre’s visual and narrative conventions were shaped by eugenic beliefs about bodily wholeness.

Another disability studies scholar, Rosemarie Garland-Thomson has noted that disabled figures are often trapped as spectacles: seen but not heard, as well as pitied or feared.

By giving The Creature an interior life, del Toro insists on humanity where cinema once imposed monstrosity.

Shift is more than aesthetic

The shift matters for how popular culture links monstrosity and disability. For nearly a century, films like the 1931 Frankenstein, directed by James Whale, encoded the monster as “deformed,” “broken,” or pathologically violent.

Whale’s Frankenstein is a landmark of horror cinema, but it also cemented some of the most troubling tropes about disability on screen.

The Creature (played by Boris Karloff) was made grotesque through design choices: a flat head, sunken eyes, heavy gait. These features mark him as visibly other, a body built for the audience to recoil from.

The film doubles down with plot devices: instead of receiving a “normal” brain, the monster is mistakenly given a “criminal brain.” Violence, the story suggests, is not the result of isolation or trauma but the natural consequence of defective biology. The message is clear: difference equals danger.

Difference as innate fault

From a disability studies perspective, this is called pathologization — the act of treating difference as if it were a medical defect that explains everything about a person. Whale’s Creature’s strangeness is presented as something built into his body. His scars, his staggered walk, his inability to communicate in words — all of these are framed as signs of an innate fault.

This is what theorists mean when they talk about “otherness.” Otherness refers to the way societies define who counts as normal, human or acceptable by pushing certain groups outside those boundaries. The Creature’s stitched, scarred body signals that he is not simply different but a threatening body to fear and control.

Over time, these representations cemented a cultural shorthand: to be visibly different, to bear scars, to move awkwardly or speak strangely, was to embody danger. The monster on screen taught viewers to associate disability with deviance and fear.

Looking ‘wrong’ and being ‘dangerous’

The story tells us if someone looks or moves “wrong,” then violence or danger must be lurking inside them.

That way of thinking didn’t come out of nowhere. It echoes early 20th-century ideas of eugenics, which tried to link disability and criminality. When you watch Whale’s Frankenstein through this lens, The Creature is a cautionary tale about why difference itself must be feared, controlled or even eliminated.

Mary Shelley’s original 1818 novel tells a much more complicated story. Her Creature is eloquent, self-aware and painfully conscious of how he is rejected by every human being he meets.

As noted by literary critic Harold Bloom, Shelley’s narrative insists humans “can live only through communion with others; solitude, for her, represents death.” Shelley shows us the social roots of monstrosity: rejection and isolation, not biological fate.

Read more:
Mary Shelley’s ‘Frankenstein’ legacy lives through women’s prison poetry project

But the 1931 film stripped that complexity away. Over time, audiences learned to read disability-coded traits — a limp, a scarred face, halting speech — as cinematic signs of danger.

A Creature with soul

Del Toro’s narrative follows Shelley more closely than the 1931 film. The Creature learns to speak, contemplates justice and articulates the pain of being abandoned. His violence, when it occurs, is not framed as the inevitable product of a defective brain but as the consequence of rejection, loneliness and abuse.

Del Toro’s version feels like a correction. Rather than leaning into horror, the film prioritizes tenderness, existentialism, love and understanding.

The design of The Creature reflects a shift in perspective. While his stitched body is unmistakably scarred, the makeup emphasizes vulnerability as much as grotesquerie. The Creature is unsettling because he is both human and not — beautiful, wounded and deeply present. The stitching and scars become traces of experience, history and survival.

From monstrosity to humanity

Movingly, the question becomes not “what is wrong with him?” but “why does society fail him?” This reorientation:

• Rejects the idea of defect as destiny. The Creature’s tragedy comes from rejection, not innate flaw.

• Restores voice and agency. In del Toro’s hands, The Creature is eloquent, thoughtful and capable of moral reasoning. That matters for audiences used to seeing disability-coded figures as voiceless.

• Shifts monstrosity onto society. The true horror is Victor Frankenstein’s hubris and refusal to care for what he made. The violence arises from abandonment, not deformity.

This is a disability-affirming move. Rather than imagining disability as pathology, or the monster as metaphor for disability, the film asks audiences to look at the structures of exclusion. Representations shape perception. If difference is always framed as frightening or tragic, those ideas seep into how we treat real people.

The Creature becomes legible as disabled because he shows us what it is like to live in a body that others cannot accept. His tragedy mirrors the lived reality of many disabled people: not inherent brokenness, but the pain of exclusion.

Monsters, disability and empathy

Frankenstein stories endure because they dramatize the question: What do we owe each other?

Whale’s 1931 version presented the monster as proof that boundaries must be enforced because the abnormal body is a threat.

Del Toro answers differently. His Creature reveals that what makes us monstrous is not our difference but our refusal to accept others as fully human. We are asked to fear the consequences of our own failure to care.

Billie Anderson 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. In Guillermo Del Toro’s ‘Frankenstein,’ what makes us monstrous is refusing to care – https://theconversation.com/in-guillermo-del-toros-frankenstein-what-makes-us-monstrous-is-refusing-to-care-265829

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By James Horncastle, Assistant Professor and Edward and Emily McWhinney Professor in International Relations, Simon Fraser University

There’s recently been a significant uptick in Russian incursions into Europe. They started in mid-September with Russian drones violating Polish airspace, resulting in Poland being forced to deploy its air force to protect its sovereignty.

Subsequently, a Russian drone violated Romanian airspace. Perhaps most disconcerting, three Russian MiG-31s deliberately violated Estonian airspace in a clearly provocative act.

But these known Russian incursions are being overtaken by a troubling phenomenon. Airports in Europe, including but not limited to Copenhagen and Munich, have seen their operations disrupted by unknown drones.

Analysts increasingly believe these mysterious drones are operated by Russian agents to sow fear and tension in Europe. Whether that’s true remains to be seen.

Russian offensive weakening

While these incidents may appear designed to escalate the conflict by threatening to draw the European Union and NATO into the conflict, they instead reflect Russian strategic weakness as winter approaches.

Throughout 2025, Russia had several advantages over Ukraine. Russian superiority in arms production and mobilization, supplemented by direct and indirect aid from states like North Korea and China put it in a favourable strategic position compared to Ukraine.

Read more:
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Russia has hit Ukraine on multiple fronts.

While Russian frontline forces advance against Ukrainian positions, Russia increased the tempo and volume of its drone and missile strikes against Ukrainian cities. Nonetheless, even though Russian drones and missiles have inflicted considerable destruction and casualties on Ukraine in 2025, Ukrainians have yet to lose their will to resist.

Russian forces took advantage of this strategic imbalance against Ukraine to seize Ukrainian territory. Critically, however, while Russian forces have made gains, they have not achieved a decisive breakthrough against Ukraine. Russia’s minimal gains in September, furthermore, indicate that its offensive is stalling.

The fall weather and resulting cold and rain will further stall Russian offensive operations in Ukraine. The year 2025, initially looking like it would favour Russia, has resulted in Putin having little to show for it.

What’s more, Ukraine has not been passive during this period.

Exploiting Russian vulnerabilities

From a numbers and material standpoint, Ukraine is at a considerable disadvantage against Russia. But Putin’s government has two interrelated points that Ukraine seeks to undermine: domestic support for Putin and the Russian economy.

The extent of domestic support for Putin is a subject of debate among scholars and analysts. But Putin’s actions suggest he’s nervous enough about it that he’s seeking to insulate his support base against the effects of the war. To do so, he’s maintaining the illusion of a strong Russian economy.

But Elvira Nabiullina, Russia’s central bank governor, has warned the Russian economy is in trouble. Putin has ignored her warnings and has instead offered pithy retorts to criticisms of the Russian economy.

Despite Putin’s nonchalant reaction to the weakness of the Russian economy, Ukraine recognizes the fragility of his stance. In fact, Ukraine is now repeatedly striking the resource at the heart of Russia’s precarious prosperity: oil.

Oil and natural gas account for at least 30 per cent of the federal Russian budget. Ukrainian innovations in drone and missile technology has allowed Ukraine to repeatedly strike Russian oil and natural gas refining and logistical facilities.

This has resulted in Russia declaring a full moratorium on gasoline exports for the rest of the year. Furthermore, Russia was recently forced to partially extend an export ban to diesel as well.

Fuel shortages will only become more pronounced as energy demands increase over the cold Russian winter. Putin’s base, in short, could finally be forced to confront the consequences of his policies.

Escalate to de-escalate

Russian strategic failures in 2025, along with increased Ukrainian pressure, help explain Russia’s subversive efforts in Europe.

A misunderstood element of Russian strategic doctrine is the concept of escalating to de-escalate. Although this tactic is most commonly applied to nuclear strategy, it applies to all aspects of Russia’s strategic doctrine.

Russian politicians and generals are calculating that Europe is simultaneously unprepared and unwilling to wage war against Russia. Furthermore, Russian leaders are relying on the belief that European leaders, despite their rhetoric, will do whatever possible to eliminate the root cause of Russia’s recent incursions into European airspace: the Russia-Ukraine war.

Putin, after seemingly pushing Europeans to the brink of war, will likely pivot to a policy that encourages a diplomatic solution to Ukraine. Putin has followed a similar strategy of appearing to be more diplomatically inclined in the winters of 2024 and early 2025. World leaders, desperate for the war to end, have treated such proposals more seriously than warranted.

Read more:
Trump-Putin ceasefire conversation shows no initial signs of bringing peace to Ukraine

Russian drones and missiles may have proven devastating for Ukraine, but they haven’t altered the strategic balance.

Ukraine’s strikes, on the other hand, appear to be bearing strategic fruit at a critical moment of Russian vulnerability, forcing Putin to use unconventional means to try to secure victory against Ukraine.

James Horncastle 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 Russia’s provocations in Europe actually signal a weakened strategic position – https://theconversation.com/why-russias-provocations-in-europe-actually-signal-a-weakened-strategic-position-266883

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Fatma Ozdogan, PhD Candidate & Researcher, Université de Montréal

In December 1989, the United Nations declared Oct. 13 International Day for Disaster Risk Reduction. At the time, the aim was to make disaster-risk reduction part of everyday thinking worldwide.

Today, this mission is more urgent than ever as disasters strike more often and with greater force.

And although substantial progress has been made, there is still much to achieve in reducing disaster risks and their impacts.

One of the main culprits for overlooking certain disasters is the way we talk about them. We tend to focus more on the narratives surrounding rapid-onset events — wildfires, earthquakes, hurricanes — versus long-term crises like climate change.

Punishment from the gods

Historically, people saw disasters as unpredictable forces beyond human control.

Earthquakes, floods and famines were often explained as punishment from the gods. Communities believed these events reflected moral failings or divine judgment, rooted in cultural and religious traditions.

For instance, the Epic of Gilgamesh tells of a great flood sent to cleanse humanity of its sins. Early Islamic traditions interpreted disasters as tests of faith or signs of divine displeasure, with references in the Qur’an. Other major religions such as Buddhism and Hinduism have similar divine-based interpretations.

The Lisbon earthquake of 1755, however, marked a turning point, prompting a shift towards human-centred explanations of disasters.

Enlightenment thinkers such as Voltaire, Rousseau and Kant challenged purely religious interpretations, advocating rational and scientific reasoning and a better understanding of nature, ushering in a new view of disasters as acts of nature.

Disasters as human-induced

This intellectual shift marked the beginning of a more secular and scientific understanding of disasters. It suggested that disasters could be studied, anticipated and potentially prevented through human action.

Building on this foundation, the Industrial Revolution in the 19th century introduced new risks associated directly with human activities, such as factory accidents and railway crashes. By statistically analyzing these incidents, experts identified predictable patterns, prompting the creation of specialized institutions to manage and mitigate these emerging hazards.

As the understanding of human influence on disasters evolved further in the early 20th century, scholars began exploring how social behaviours, industrial practices and preparedness levels shaped disaster outcomes.

This expanded perspective underscored the crucial role of societal structures and human decisions, demonstrating that disasters were not just natural events but deeply intertwined with human factors. Although religious interpretations still exist in some communities, the consensus has shifted toward viewing disasters as human-induced.

By the 1960s, research turned to the social, political and economic roots of disasters. Scholars showed that poverty, weak governance, poor infrastructure and inequality made communities far more vulnerable.

As a result, attention shifted from reacting after disasters to tackling their root causes in advance. This regarded disasters as acts of social systems and structures.

Politics and equity meet

More recently, vulnerability and resilience have become core concepts in disaster management practice and policy-making.

International frameworks such as the Hyogo Framework (2005–2015) and the Sendai Framework for Disaster Risk Reduction (2015–2030) reflect this shift. These frameworks define disasters as a global issue requiring international collaboration, systematic risk management and proactive strategies.

Today, scholars widely recognize disasters not as purely natural events but as results of human actions, including negligence, poor planning and inadequate governance.

Defining what exactly constitutes a disaster, however, remains contested: Who decides what qualifies as a disaster, and according to which criteria? Which ones are more important and deserve more attention?

This distinction is especially clear in media and political discussions, which tend to highlight rapid-onset events like earthquakes, floods or hurricanes. In contrast, slower, long-term crises related to climate change or environmental degradation often receive far less attention

What media coverage misses

Our understanding and management of disasters is biased.

A recent analysis of Canadian media highlights a significant imbalance in the attention given to sudden and slow-onset disasters.

Sudden disasters like wildfires consistently receive far greater media coverage in comparison to slower-developing events like droughts or environmental degradation.

For example, CBC devoted up to eight hours in a single day to covering the immediate aftermath of the 2010 Haiti earthquake. In contrast, the 2011 Horn of Africa drought typically received less than two minutes of daily coverage. Yet the cumulative impacts of these slow-onset crises are substantial, often surpassing the effects of rapid-onset disasters.

According to a report by the United Nations Convention to Combat Desertification, although droughts accounted for only 15 per cent of natural hazard-induced disasters from 1970 to 2019, they exacted the highest human toll, causing approximately 650,000 deaths globally.

During this period, weather-, climate- and water-related hazards comprised half of all disasters and 45 per cent of disaster-related deaths, disproportionately affecting developing countries. Additionally, between 1998 and 2017 alone, droughts led to economic losses roughly US$124 billion.

The World Bank further underscores this critical issue, estimating that climate-related, slow-onset disasters could displace about 216 million people globally by 2050. Such displacement carries extensive humanitarian and geopolitical consequences.

Recent events highlight the serious consequences of slow-onset disasters. Global soil degradation, for example, currently affects nearly 3.2 billion people. Between 2015 and 2019, 100 million hectares of land were lost each year, cutting food production and worsening hunger.

Rising sea levels threaten nearly 900 million people globally in low-lying coastal areas. Flooding, saltwater intrusion and soil salinization are damaging homes, farmland and public health.

Building a better future

Addressing what we pay attention to requires a fundamental shift in approaches to disasters.

This involves critically recognizing human accountability in exacerbating hazards and scrutinizing structural vulnerabilities — poverty, inadequate infrastructure, ineffective governance — which increase disaster impacts.

As a society, we need to re-evaluate our priorities and adopt a holistic perspective that equally acknowledges all disaster forms.

With sustained investment in prevention, stronger infrastructure and greater social equity, communities in Canada and around the world can strengthen their capacity to face the future.

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. The disasters we talk about shape our priorities and determine our preparedness – https://theconversation.com/the-disasters-we-talk-about-shape-our-priorities-and-determine-our-preparedness-266200