Category: Analysis

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Lorna Stevens, Senior Lecturer (Associate Professor) in Strategic Marketing, University of Bath

In the dark months of winter, the warm glow of Christmas fairy lights and flickering candles brings some welcome atmospheric respite. And that atmosphere is something many retailers try to capture as they tempt shoppers with their festive marketing campaigns.

The John Lewis Christmas advert for example, has become a seasonal staple, while rival Marks and Spencer has found success with its “Magic and Sparkle” campaign, which plays on the company’s brand name.

There are many more. Christmas is a vital period in the retail calendar, and the amount of festive advertising can seem overwhelming.

Many of those adverts will feature beautifully wrapped presents, happy faces and snowy streets. But there’s another marketing strategy which is widely employed at this time of year, and involves brands seeking to be associated with the idea of glamour.

Glamour can mean different things to different people. It’s a subjective term, with Scottish roots, and defined in the Oxford English Dictionary as something possessing “magic” and “enchantment” or “bewitching beauty and charm”. Others may associate glamour with luxury or celebrity.

For the author Nigel Thrift, glamour is an aesthetic that creates a more magical world. He notes that the appeal of sparkling surfaces, one of glamour’s most visible markers, goes far back in human history.

So glamour is a perfect match for Christmas – and a perfect tool for brands trying to enchant consumers.

The high street chain Oliver Bonas, for example, currently has a homeware range that offers “a hint of glamour and a touch of luxe” while its social media posts promote clothing with “daytime glamour”.

The fashion store Whistles hailed a recent winter collection which featured plenty of sequins and velvet as “new wave glamour”. Similarly, Mint Velvet uses the strapline “relaxed glamour” for a range of clothing which it calls “high-low dressing”.

And research I conducted with colleagues into retail branding suggests some rules that companies should follow if they want to persuade customers of their glamorous status.

First on the list is not appearing to be trying too hard. Effortless glamour – even if the lack of effort is an illusion – is a vital part of appearing glamorous. It also feeds into what we call glamour’s “affective force” – the idea that glamour is about not just visual aesthetics, but also about how it makes us feel.

We found that The White Company for example, creates a sense of transformation and escape, which is at the emotional core of glamour. To do this, the brand uses expert techniques to make their products seem more alluring, aspirational and appealing.

Its imagery is extremely subtle, benefiting from a monochromatic palate and simplicity, which creates an aura of effortlessness, but it also adds a touch of glamour which serves to elevate the brand.

Shiny things

Other brands seeking to use a glamour aesthetic should also avoid being too heavy-handed, in case their efforts start to veer towards brashness and bling. This removes the sense of mystery and intrigue that is essential for glamour to work as an affective force.

But there are certain familiar props which can help to instil some glamour into a brand. We call these glamour “markers”, and they include things like glass, mirrors, shiny surfaces and luxurious fabrics.

Sparkling light is also particularly evocative of glamour. A crystal chandelier is the most obvious example, but carefully placed candles and table lamps and the addition of sparkling elements can render an object or a setting glamorous.

Then there is the promise of transformation and escape. Aspirational scenes and settings on websites and social media can stimulate customers’ imaginations and escapist fantasies, which heightens their emotional engagement with a brand.

But it’s also important to convey a sense that the lifestyle the brand promises is accessible. By striking a careful balance between the achievable and the aspirational, customers are more likely to believe in the brand offering.

Not everyone is a believer, of course. Some may feel that the magic and sparkle of Christmas is at best illusory, and at worst an excuse for crass commercialism and excessive materialism.

Others will embrace Christmas time as a sparkling light amid the bleak midwinter. And part of that might be lifestyle brands putting on a glamorous show.

They will do their best to attract attention, feed aspirational longing and lift spirits. And ideally, they will make us believe that our lives and the lives of our loved ones can magically be enhanced and transformed – if we just buy a little of the glamour they offer.

Lorna Stevens 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 big shops are trying to sell you a glamorous Christmas – https://theconversation.com/why-big-shops-are-trying-to-sell-you-a-glamorous-christmas-270316

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Andy Levy, Reader in Psychology, Edge Hill University

Vaping among teenagers is a growing global health problem.

In the UK, schools are reporting a surge in young people struggling with dependence, including cases of students needing medical attention after vaping in class. In the Netherlands, researchers have found that many teenagers wake up at night specifically to vape, a sign of growing nicotine addiction in adolescents.

And in New Zealand, a widely shared image of a teenager’s blackened, shrivelled lung after three years of vaping renewed fears about the speed at which harm can develop.

These stories show how far vaping has drifted from its original purpose. Once introduced as a safer alternative to cigarettes, it is now embedded in youth culture, driven as much by social influence as by nicotine itself.

E-cigarettes have now become a lifestyle accessory: sleek, flavoured and often perceived as harmless. But behind the clouds of “strawberry ice” and “blueberry burst” vapour lies a powerful lesson in how misinformation shapes behaviour, based less on chemistry than on psychology.

Understanding why vaping feels safe, appealing and difficult to quit requires looking not only at the device but at how our minds process risk, reward and social cues.

Psychology shows that people rarely process health information in nuanced ways. Faced with complex or uncertain evidence, including emerging research on vaping, our brains reduce it to simple categories, such as safe or unsafe.

This mental shortcut helps us make quick decisions without examining every detail. When people hear that vaping is less harmful than cigarettes, many take it to mean harmless, because judging relative risk feels complicated. Brightly coloured devices, sweet flavours and wellness-focused marketing reinforce the perception that vaping is good or safe, even without long-term evidence.

This simplification helps explain why misinformation spreads easily. Once a behaviour is mentally categorised as safe or desirable, people are less likely to question it or seek contradicting evidence. Our natural tendency to think in binaries leaves complex health messages open to distortion, strengthening the influence of marketing and social cues.

Social influence then amplifies the effect. When friends, peers and influencers post vaping content online, the behaviour becomes not just visible but celebrated, making it feel socially normal and desirable. Social proof encourages experimentation and reinforces the idea that quitting would mean losing belonging, identity or enjoyment.

Social media platforms magnify these cues, circulating anecdotes, trends and endorsements. The result is one million people in England vaping despite never having smoked regularly, under the illusion of safety.

Vaping took off not only because people were misinformed, but because their brains had reasons to keep believing it was safe. Loss aversion, the tendency to feel losses more intensely than gains, explains part of this.

When vaping seems harmless, the perceived losses of quitting, such as stress relief, enjoyable flavours, social connection and identity, feel immediate and real, while the long-term risks seem distant or unlikely. People hold on to vaping not just because they underestimate the dangers, but because stopping feels like giving up something valuable.

Read more:
Two of the best stop smoking medications have been available in the UK since 2024 – so why is no one using them?

Together, these forces create a self-reinforcing cycle. Binary thinking simplifies risk, social proof builds desirability and loss aversion makes quitting feel costly. Misinformation does not just mislead. It reshapes how people think, turning a harm-reduction tool into a socially embedded, hard-to-quit habit.

The rise of vaping reveals a deeper issue in how health information spreads. In the digital age, public understanding changes faster than scientific consensus. Online trends and anecdotes often outrun the slow, careful process of research, and young people are particularly susceptible. Once misinformation takes hold, it is difficult to reverse. One in ten UK secondary school pupils currently vape, even though the NHS warns that long-term effects remain uncertain.

If misinformation helped drive the vaping boom by exaggerating its benefits, reversing the trend requires changing what people believe they stand to gain. Improving media literacy is a start, helping people spot when relatable content is actually advertising, when trends are engineered or when claims are overstated.

Public health messages also need to meet people where they are, using short, engaging content that feels native to social media. When influencers and peers highlight the real costs of vaping, such as money, energy and lung capacity, and expose the marketing behind its appeal, perceptions can shift. This taps into loss aversion by making continued vaping feel like the bigger loss.

Combining media literacy with relatable, well-targeted content can change vaping perceptions, make psychological biases work in favour of health and help people resist misleading narratives.

Ultimately, addressing the vaping boom requires understanding the minds and social environments of those caught up in it, not just the science behind the device.

Andy Levy 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 teenagers won’t quit vaping, even when the risks are clear – a psychologist explains – https://theconversation.com/why-teenagers-wont-quit-vaping-even-when-the-risks-are-clear-a-psychologist-explains-269476

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Elisabeth Schweiger, Lecturer in International Politics, University of Stirling

The Trump administration’s push to label drug traffickers as “narcoterrorists” and kill them at sea has generated global outrage. But the controversy risks missing the larger story.

Experts, non-governmental organisations and the UN have condemned the strikes as unlawful assassinations and Washington’s claim that it is acting in self-defence does not appear to hold up to legal analysis.

Yet these attacks are not a dramatic break. They extend a decades-long pattern of US “targeted killings”, from Yemen to Somalia to Syria. These attacks are almost always justified through controversial legal interpretations and have often been met with muted international opposition.

There’s a chance that the current narrative doesn’t address the deeper, more meaningful criticisms of the thinking behind it.

Recent escalations by the Trump administration in targeting what the White House describe as narcoterrorists in the Caribbean have sparked significant debate. The attacks against accused drug traffickers have been extensively reported and the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights has called on the US government to halt the “extrajudicial killing of people aboard these boats, whatever the criminal conduct alleged against them”.

The Trump administration has vaguely justified the attacks through the right to self-defence in an armed conflict against narcoterrorists. But that claim has been refuted by UN experts, who have pointed out that “international law does not permit the unilateral use of force abroad to fight terrorism or drug trafficking”.

Under international law, the use of force in self-defence can only be justified if an armed attack against a state has occurred first or is imminent. For a situation to be classed as an armed conflict, certain threshold requirements need to be reached. Simply declaring that you are in an armed conflict with a group does not make it so.

Furthermore, criminals are not combatants, no matter how politically and socially problematic they may be. As such, lethal actions against them infringe upon fundamental human rights obligations – such as the right to life and the right to a fair trial.

‘War on terror’

The assaults and their justifications undoubtedly represent a troubling new development in US military practices. Yet the focus on attacks against drug criminals in the Caribbean obscures the similarities to current military operations conducted by the US against people they have designated as terrorists in the Middle East and Africa.

These have received barely any attention in public debates even though hundreds of people have recently been killed in Yemen, as well as in attacks in Syria, Iraq and Somalia.

The current campaign in the Caribbean is part of a broader pattern. For more than two decades, successive US administrations have carried out targeted killings overseas under contested definitions of what combatants are and what constitutes an armed conflict during the so-called “war on terror”.

The US-led campaign against Islamic State killed thousands of people, with civilian deaths estimated between 8,000 and 13,000 between 2014 and 2019. US airstrikes in Somalia and Yemen continue. Strikes at the port of Ras Isa and Sadaa’s remand migration detention centre a few months ago appear to have killed at least 150 civilians and injuring 200 more.

A witness, interviewed by Amnesty International described the attack on the migration centre: “They said they woke up to find dismembered bodies around them. You could see the shock and horror on their faces.”

It is worth remembering that the UK and other European powers have often participated in and facilitated such attacks and rarely challenged their legality.

Many countries have been fearful of directly confronting the US and objecting to these infringements of international law. As I have showed elsewhere, the legality of targeted killing strikes of terrorists outside of armed conflict has been consistently rejected by the overwhelming majority of countries.

States have characterised such practices by Israel as extrajudicial executions and have indicated concern over US practices – but they have often stopped short of openly opposing a global superpower.

So the strikes in Venezuela follow a pattern used regularly by the US and others. The Trump administration may have justified its strikes by coming up with the new and deeply problematic category of narcoterrorists. But the underlying logic remains unchanged. The US claims the authority to execute any individual it deems a threat – wherever and whenever it chooses.

Normalising murder

The consequences of this pattern are hardly unforeseeable. Experts have long warned that normalising such practices risks undermining the prohibition on the use of force and of extrajudicial killings. This potentially sets a precedent for powerful states to use lethal force against anyone they deem inconvenient.

The risk is that the monstrosity of this logic becomes obscured and the idea of targeting non-combatant narcoterrorists is eventually normalised once the initial surge of outrage fades. Already, the discussion in some quarters is beginning to shift from whether such strikes should occur to how they should be conducted, focusing on issues like target identification.

And while the attacks on drug traffickers rightly attract scrutiny, comparatively little attention is paid to the continuing, systemic use of lethal operations in parts of Africa or the Middle East, which often takes place under similar legal rationales.

This relative silence is significant. As I argue in my forthcoming book Silent War, this lack of protest and media attention – and the silence in public debates – not only reflects orientalist assumptions and power asymmetries. It also effectively enables and legitimises such political aggression.

Elisabeth Schweiger 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. Donald Trump’s strikes against narcoterrorists are new but the logic behind them isn’t – https://theconversation.com/donald-trumps-strikes-against-narcoterrorists-are-new-but-the-logic-behind-them-isnt-271688

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Emma Stafford, Professor of Greek Culture, University of Leeds

This year, fans of the tiny marmalade-loving bear from Peru can catch him on stage at London’s Savoy Theatre in the West End, in Paddington The Musical.

This is a stage adaptation of the first film in the most recent Paddington franchise, which began in 2014. While it features more than 18 new songs by Tom Fletcher (of the band McFly), it follows the film’s plot quite closely. It also shares its values of home, family and tolerance of difference – particularly relevant to current debates on immigration.

As an expert in ancient Greek culture, what struck me most was how this theatrical re-imagining casts Paddington as a hero in the tradition of Homeric epic.

Although there have been several iterations of the Paddington story since he was first introduced by Michael Bond in A Bear Called Paddington (1958), his journey has always been prompted by the destruction of his Peruvian home by an earthquake. His only surviving relative, Aunt Lucy, is too old to look after him, so he must find a new home. And so Paddington makes his way to London and to his new adopted family, the Browns.

This quest can be compared to Virgil’s epic poem the Aeneid. In this tale Aeneas flees the fall of Troy and wanders the Mediterranean until he eventually settles at the site of the future Rome. Arguably, both stories conform with American writer Joseph Campbell’s theory of the monomyth, or the “hero’s journey”, in which a quest is precipitated by a crisis. In this, the hero must overcome various challenges, often with the help of a mentor and some form of talisman or supernatural aid. In the end, he is victorious and reaches home transformed.

The quest for home and belonging is a popular theme in 21st-century film but it goes right back to Homer’s Odyssey. There the hero Odysseus has to overcome monsters, gods and men before finally achieving his nostos, his return home, with the help of the goddess Athene.

Such divine assistance may not be available to Paddington, but Aunt Lucy serves as his spiritual guide. In the musical, we never see her but her guidance is communicated by letter. As her words are read out, a bear-shaped constellation appears on the wall behind, giving her an almost magical quality.

Adversaries and talismans

Ancient and modern heroes alike must face monsters of one sort or another. Paddington’s adversaries are primarily human.

Opposition is briefly offered in act one by the splendidly bombastic Lady Sloane (Amy Booth-Steel) who is the leader of the Geographers’ Guild.

This institution originally sent the explorer Montgomery Clyde to Peru to collect dead animal specimens, but expelled him when came back empty handed, having instead befriended Paddington’s bear family. Lady Sloane is easily vanquished by Paddington’s superpower – his famous hard stare.

Paddington turns this withering look on people he thinks are behaving badly, making them feel hot under the collar and forcing them to realise the error of their ways. A whole musical number is dedicated to this small but mighty gesture.

In act two, the geographers reappear in pursuit of Paddington. Their song, The Geographer’s Guild, pays musical homage to Gilbert and Sullivan for whose light operas the Savoy Theatre was originally built. Its lyrics joke about the imperialist acquisitiveness of the geographers, who have already “collected” the Elgin marbles and now have their eye on the Statue of Liberty.

Foremost of his adversaries, however, is Millicent Clyde (Victoria Hamilton-Barritt), evil daughter of the sympathetic explorer Montgomery. She introduces herself with the magnificent number Pretty Little Dead Things in which she lists the animals she has subjected to taxidermy – many of which can be seen as part of the stage set.

Millicent is on a mission to complete what her father could not, and in the climactic scene, Millicent has taken Paddington to be stuffed at the Natural History Museum. These scenes wonderfully feature the distinct hind quarters of Dippy, the dinosaur skeleton-cast that, until recently, stood in the museum’s entrance, Hintze Hall.

If the hard stare is his superpower, Paddington’s talisman is undoubtedly that orange sticky substance. Act two opens with the ridiculously catchy song Marmalade, an extravagant fantasy in which the Brown’s cantankerous neighbour Mr Curry is won over by the taste of a marmalade sandwich, a fantasy into which the audience are drawn as they join in with the “ma-ma-ma-ma-marmalade” refrain.

While the marmalade sandwich kept in Paddington’s hat is a fundamental part of Michael Bond’s original character, it is pressed into service in the film as the secret weapon with which he escapes the clutches of Millicent Clyde. In the musical, it is likewise used to enlist the aid of Hank the Pigeon (voice/puppeteer Ben Redfern) and his fellow birds.

So Paddington is a hero, in the classical sense of the word. He is on a journey to find home after his was destroyed and is guided from afar by his Aunt Lucy. Along the way he must overcome evil and other obstacles. But with the help of his hard stare as his weapon and his trusty talisman, a marmalade sandwich, he triumphs.

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Emma Stafford 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. Paddington The Musical: why the little bear from Peru is a hero in a very classical sense – https://theconversation.com/paddington-the-musical-why-the-little-bear-from-peru-is-a-hero-in-a-very-classical-sense-271654

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Gulnaz Anjum, Assistant Professor of Climate Psychology, Centre for Social Issues Research, Department of Psychology, University of Limerick

In November 2025, Lahore, the second-largest city in Pakistan, registered a “hazardous” air quality index of 509, according to IQAir, a global air quality monitoring organisation. The number speaks for itself. Eyes sting, throats burn and headlights blur into halos. In winter, the city feels as though it has slipped beneath a toxic sea.

Across Pakistan’s major cities, the shift into colder months no longer brings relief from heat or flooding. Winter has become smog season.

For weeks at a time, the sky turns grey-brown and the air tastes metallic before noon, a result of fine particles and acidic gases accumulating in the air and irritating the mouth and throat. These are not abstract environmental problems but daily, sensory realities. Smog now shapes routines, moods and the way people move through their day.

Lahore’s smog crisis is not new, but the numbers are becoming more alarming. The World Health Organization recommends that annual average levels of fine particulate matter should remain below five micrograms per cubic metre. According to a recent IQAir report, Lahore’s 2024 average was 102.

The burden of disease caused by air pollution is now estimated to be on a par with unhealthy diets and tobacco smoking. Global assessments place Pakistan among the countries with the highest mortality linked to air pollution, with particle concentrations far above recommended limits.

For residents of Pakistan’s cities, these statistics translate into physical and emotional strain. People describe waking with headaches after nights of coughing. Parents say the school run feels like walking through exhaust fumes.

Outdoor workers such as drivers, street vendors and construction labourers often report tasting metal in the air by late afternoon. Emerging research links smog episodes with spikes in respiratory illness, cardiovascular stress and hospital visits, especially among children and people with existing health conditions.

Winter in Lahore is sometimes described as “a lockdown without staying at home”. Public health advice on very polluted days often includes avoiding outdoor exercise, keeping windows closed and wearing masks when outside. Air quality apps now send real-time alerts to hundreds of thousands of users across the city.

But staying indoors is a luxury for many. Street vendors cannot sell food from their kitchens. Transport workers cannot drive rickshaws or buses from behind sealed windows. Families living in cramped, poorly ventilated housing do not breathe clean indoor air either; they breathe a mixture of outdoor pollution and indoor smoke from cooking or heating.

Read more:
Toxic air in the home is a global health emergency

The causes of this toxic winter mix are well documented. Older diesel trucks and buses emit large quantities of fine particles and nitrogen dioxide. Industrial zones and poorly regulated brick kilns burn low-quality fuel. Construction activity increases the amount of dust in the air. Seasonal burning of crop residues left behind after harvesting, such as stalks and straw, in Punjab and neighbouring regions worsens pollution even further.

Cold winter temperatures trap pollutants close to the ground. With little wind or rain to disperse them, a dense brown haze settles over Lahore and other urban areas. Recent analyses show that Lahore’s emissions remain high throughout the year, but peak during winter when weather conditions are least favourable.

Smog affects more than the lungs. It influences how people feel, behave and cope with daily life. Residents frequently report a sense of heaviness or irritability on high pollution days, difficulty concentrating or a “claustrophobic” feeling when visibility drops and the city seems to close in. Studies show that air pollution has negative effects on mental health. For families already dealing with crowded housing, unstable work and unreliable transport, smog adds another layer of psychological strain.

Smog’s uneven toll

These effects are not shared equally. Low-income communities in cities like Lahore and Karachi often live closer to industrial corridors, busy roads or burning waste sites, and have far less control over their exposure.

People who work outdoors breathe in more polluted air than those who can work remotely or retreat indoors. Women managing unpaid care work describe feeling exhausted by the constant monitoring of children’s coughs, many of whom also miss school.

For many households in Pakistan, air pollution interacts with other environmental threats such as extreme heat, flooding and water shortages. It is a pattern seen across developing countries, where climate change and pollution intensify existing inequalities and resilience depends not only on people’s physical wellbeing but also on collective capacity to support one another and withstand overlapping crises.

Recognising these psychological and social dimensions is essential for designing effective public health and environmental responses. When smog becomes seasonal – a regular feature of winter rather than an occasional occurrence – people adapt in ways that affect social life, work patterns, schooling and mental wellbeing.

Persistent exposure can lead to hopelessness, a sense that nothing can be done, which undermines motivation to participate in civic discussions or environmental initiatives. Others experience heightened worry about their children’s health, education and future, a form of “pollution anxiety”.

These emotional responses matter because they shape how communities understand risk, respond to public messaging and engage with policy measures.

No one can solve city-wide smog alone, yet waiting only for national reforms can feel too slow and too distant. Community-level action occupies the space in between. Neighbourhood clean-air campaigns, school-based monitoring, local tree planting, reporting of illegal burning and collaborations between residents, health workers and municipal staff can increase awareness and create political pressure for broader systemic change.

These efforts do not replace national policy; they make it more likely to succeed. And they give people a sense of agency in a context where pollution can otherwise feel overwhelming.

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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. Lahore’s toxic winters: how smog is reshaping daily life in urban Pakistan – https://theconversation.com/lahores-toxic-winters-how-smog-is-reshaping-daily-life-in-urban-pakistan-270494