Category: Analysis

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Andy Curtis, Distinguished Guest Professor, Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences, City University of Macau

Small is Beautiful: A Study of Economics as if People Mattered is the title of the highly influential 1973 book written by the German-born British economist E.F. Schumacher.

The book marked its 50th anniversary in 2023, but a couple of years later, we find ourselves in a time where “big is best,” at least according to the 47th president of the United States, Donald Trump, and his administration.

The most recent example of their the-bigger-the-better mentality is the so-called One Big Beautiful Bill that recently became law.

Understandably, the focus in the extensive news coverage of the nearly 900-page document has been on the contents of the bill, especially the economic implications for American citizens, institutions and organizations.

But very little attention has been paid to the actual language of the bill, not least because, well, who has the time to pore over 900 pages of language?

Linguistic analysis

This is where a new kind of political language analysis can help.

In my 2022 book, I deconstructed and analyzed the speeches of past American presidents George W. Bush, Barack Obama, Donald Trump and Joe Biden. In my subsequent 2024 book, I subjected five of Trump’s major campaign speeches to an in-depth level of linguistic analysis that had not been applied before.

One of the findings of my 10 years of analyzing Trump speeches since 2015, when he famously announced his plans to run for the presidency while riding on a golden escalator, is how effective the advice was of his former adviser, Steve Bannon. He reportedly told Trump in 2018 “to flood the zone with shit.”

In other words, Bannon was advising Trump to ensure there was so much information, disinformation and misinformation coming from the Trump campaign that neither the political opposition nor the media could keep up with it.

And even if they tried, distinguishing fact from fiction and disentangling exaggeration and bombastic hyperbole from carefully calculated lies became an insurmountable task even for the most dedicated of investigative journalists, including Canadian-born Daniel Dale.

Why another four years?

Applying Schumacher’s idea that “small is beautiful” to language analysis is one way of countering the kind of deliberate language overload employed by the Trump administration.

Taking small but complete slices of language and subjecting them to a new kind of forensic, linguistic analysis can help us understand, in this case, why more than 77 million American voters decided that what their country and the world needed was another Trump presidency. What role did Trump’s language play in that outcome?

An example of a small but complete piece of language is the official announcement of the One Big Beautiful Bill on the White House website on July 7.

The announcement was entitled: “President Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill: A Win for Workers, Farmers, and America’s Future.”

The first thing to notice is what this is not. It is not presented as a bill passed by the U.S. government or even the Republican Party. It is Trump’s bill, which may be a small but clear, concise example of the ways in which a nation’s government can be reduced to a single person, like autocratic dictatorships and absolutemonarchies.

Then there is the title of the legislation, which has been described as “absurd” and therefore easy to dismiss. But the three-B alliteration is nonetheless catchy, which makes it memorable and all the more irresistible to the world’s mainstream media.

The title also identifies three supposedly big winners in the bill: American workers, American farmers and America the Beautiful.

Stoking fears

“Winner takes all” appears to be the mantra of the second Trump administration, but it’s important to notice the exclusions of large groups, including those who live in the U.S. but aren’t working — like children, retirees and the unemployed, which is the majority of citizens — and those who aren’t farmers, which is more than 99 per cent of all Americans.

It’s also critical to be aware of the aggrandizing and misleading language of the bill. The introductory paragraph on the page announcing the bill describes it as a “sweeping legislative triumph” — despite the fact that the legislation passed by a single vote — while referring to “the largest tax cuts in history” and “historic funding for national security.”

The recurring references to American history are at odds with the fact that Trump lacks knowledge of both U.S. and world history, which has been on display many times over many years.

The introductory paragraph also highlights the importance of “America’s defences” and “our nation’s defence,” which continue to give the impression that the U.S. is a country under siege and vulnerable to attack from various enemies at any time. But given how much the U.S. spends on its military, there is probably no other country in the world more capable of defending itself.

But the language is the point. By constantly repeating the “we are under attack” line, fear is effectively created and maintained, especially the fear of anyone who doesn’t look or sound like Trump and his followers.

Using words to manipulate

Keeping with the wartime-like language, the introduction claims that the One Big Beautiful Bill “unleashes economic prosperity and empowers every American.” Such statements are already being shown to be untrue, as many millions of American are likely to be severely, negatively impacted by the legislation.

The introduction is followed by 10 statements that are, in effect, “product endorsements” published in obscure, pro-Trump media, like The National Hog Farmer, all expressing gushing enthusiasm and unqualified support for the points made in the introduction.

This new kind of in-depth linguistic analyses of the language of the world’s most powerful people can help us move beyond their obviously false and misleading statements and claims, to become more aware of how their words may be being used not to communicate — but to manipulate.

Andy Curtis 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. Big Beautiful Bill: Why Donald Trump is obsessed with the manipulative language of size – https://theconversation.com/big-beautiful-bill-why-donald-trump-is-obsessed-with-the-manipulative-language-of-size-259358

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Louis Busch, Psychotherapist, Doctoral Candidate (UofT OISE), Bear Clan Nisichawayasihk Cree Nation., University of Toronto

For nearly two decades, I worked as a therapist in a large psychiatric hospital in Toronto, supporting people living with severe mental health challenges. Many of those I encountered were navigating complex intersections of psychiatric diagnoses, chronic physical illness, poverty, and the breakdown of family and social support. Stories of fear, isolation, abuse and abandonment were pervasive.

Occasionally, I witnessed transformative outcomes; patients reconnecting with loved ones, reclaiming aspects of their identity and building meaningful lives beyond their diagnoses. Unfortunately, such outcomes were typically the exception. More commonly, individuals cycled through repeated hospitalizations, and were placed in institutional or custodial settings. Some lost their lives before they got any better.

While our mental health system certainly fails people of all backgrounds, I observed a unique disservice done to the Black, brown and Indigenous patients I encountered.

Read more:
Racism impacts your health

The system seems designed to fail them not only in its methodology, but also in the basic values it is built upon.

Within my own journey of mental health recovery, I found healing alongside helpers across Turtle Island, rather than within the confines of a mental health institution or pages of a manualized treatment protocol.

It’s common for First Nations Peoples to refer to “helpers” or “helping work” when describing individuals who provide relationally-based support to others. As a community psychotherapist and later PhD student, I became increasingly interested in these helpers as unsung heroes of community wellness. They didn’t necessarily have a graduate degree in a mental health field, and they were rarely recognized or compensated for their efforts, yet they made great personal sacrifices to support the healing journeys of those around them.

Who are Indigenous helpers?

My doctoral research investigates who these Indigenous helpers are, the nature of their helping work and the role of language and dialogue in the relationships they form with those they help.

Here is what I’ve learned so far:

1. Knowledge is defined by lived experience
Indigenous helpers are individuals who emerge naturally from within their families and communities rather than being self-appointed professionals or receiving accreditation from a college or certification board. Their knowledge and skill is defined by their lived experiences, their kinship obligations and the trust placed in them by their community. They seamlessly blend practical support such as caregiving and crisis intervention with relational and spiritual guidance rooted in ancestral values and traditions.

2. Helping work is holistic and relational
Helping work is a holistic, relational practice rooted in cultural values and kinship responsibility. It involves a continuous, reciprocal process of healing, where the act of helping heals the helper, their relative and the collective. Helping work is guided by an ethic of relational accountability and powered time spent together and deep, action-based dialogue. It integrates physical, emotional, cognitive and spiritual dimensions through storytelling, presence and joint engagement in work, rest, play and ceremony. It is a long-term process that is highly contextual and nonlinear.

3. Language is medicine
Indigenous languages hold the blueprint for helping and healing work. Embedded within Indigenous languages are complex relational networks that shape how people understand themselves, their families, their worlds, and their roles within the broader community. While English is an analytic, noun-based language, Nêhîyawêwin (the Cree language) and many other Indigenous languages are polysynthetic, verb-based and highly contextual. This linguistic structure encodes kinship ties, responsibility and ways of being in relation to others (human and non-human).

Cree protectors and caretakers

One powerful example of the complexity of Indigenous languages comes from the words used to describe “Elders,” which is often a point of contention, as the English word doesn’t capture what people are trying to say when referring to the helper-leaders in our communities.

The Nêhîyawêwin (Plains Cree) word for an Elder is kisêyiniw. This is often translated simply as “old man,” but in reality carries a much deeper meaning.

The root kisê- comes from the Cree word ê-kisêt, which describes an animal feigning injury to protect its young. The second root -niw- means “a person,” making kisêyiniw not just an old man, but a protector and a caretaker who sacrifices for future generations.

Kisêyiniw describes those who embody relational responsibility: protecting, guiding and enduring suffering for the well-being of others. So rather than just being an aged person, or even an aged person who has wisdom or leadership qualities, the word kisêyiniw describes those who embody relational responsibility — protecting, guiding and enduring suffering for the well-being of others.

This contrasting of meaning reveals how the Cree language structures identity, healing and responsibility in ways that the English translation fails to capture.

A child forced to cease speaking their native language, and speak only English, would lose all of the values and meaning that exist within the relational networks that comprise the word and its concepts, and be left with a simple arbitrary label. I believe this to be at the core of much of the intergenerational suffering found in the wake of the Indian Residential School system.

Culturally specific mental health care

This is one of the reasons Indigenous-led approaches must reclaim language as central to healing, recognizing that Indigenous languages hold entire systems of wellness, governance, relationship and emotional regulation.

Truly culturally responsive care must prioritize language revitalization, ceremony and kinship-based care as core practices.

Funders, policymakers, researchers and clinicians must recognize, fund and integrate Indigenous helpers — Elders, ceremonial leaders, traditional knowledge keepers and natural helpers identified by their communities — as core mental health providers, not cultural add-ons.

Governments, universities and regulatory bodies must remove barriers preventing Indigenous helpers from full participation in mental health professions. Efforts to include Indigenous helpers should avoid forcing Indigenous helping practices into western psychotherapy models with strict, compartmentalized boundaries.

Instead, we must restore intergenerational, kinship-based healing through relationships, ceremony, land-based practices and daily caregiving.

Genuinely culturally responsive and anti-colonial mental health care requires shifting resources and power back to Indigenous helpers, languages and communities.

Louis Busch receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada (SSHRC), including a Vanier Canada Graduate Scholarship and a SSHRC Impact Award.

– ref. ‘Indigenous helpers’ are essential to culturally responsive mental health care – https://theconversation.com/indigenous-helpers-are-essential-to-culturally-responsive-mental-health-care-249128

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Treena Orchard, Associate Professor, School of Health Studies, Western University

With plummeting subscriber numbers, rising costs and users who are sick of endless swiping, the dating app industry is in crisis. Recent layoffs at Bumble are raising questions about the future of dating apps and alternatives for people who want to find romance and connection offline instead.

One of the most popular alternatives is a return to in-person dating activities like speed dating, running clubs and daytime raves.

For millennials and older generations, in-person dating is familiar territory, but if you’re part of Gen Z — often described as the “digital generation” — that isn’t necessarily the case.

This inter-generational divide was on display recently at Canada’s first sex tech conference, where I made a presentation on masculinity, dating apps and in-person alternatives to swiping. During the Q&A, a young woman chimed in with a comment that stopped me in my tracks: “Check your extrovert privilege,” she said.

After a few moments of awkward silence, the discussion resumed with a new focus on how difficult it is for younger folks to date in-person. Many of you are disillusioned with dating apps and lack the interpersonal experience some of us older generations take for granted.

So where does that leave you? Telling Gen Z to just “get out there” is not only culturally tone-deaf, but it could also contribute to rising levels of loneliness and feelings of not mattering that already affect many young people today.

Dating today can feel like a mix of endless swipes, red flags and shifting expectations. From decoding mixed signals to balancing independence with intimacy, relationships in your 20s and 30s come with unique challenges. Love IRL is the latest series from Quarter Life that explores it all.

These research-backed articles break down the complexities of modern love to help you build meaningful connections, no matter your relationship status.

In-person dating is trending

If dating apps are starting to feel more like a chore than a chance at connection, you’re not alone. A New York Times article by reporter Catherine Pearson encourages Gen Z to create meaningful communities and be open to different kinds of relationships versus the pressure-laden focus to find “the one.”

Some dating apps have joined the movement to support in-person dating. For example, Hinge hosts One More Hour, a social impact initiative to help people make in-person connections. It’s aimed at Gen Z, many of whom report anxiety around face-to-face interactions.

The hyper-digitized environment many Gen Z are a part of can feel pretty disingenuous over time, which makes connecting with someone at a park, bar or library refreshing and novel.

Meet-cutes in physical places can also take frustrating app-based practices like catfishing out of the equation. Interestingly, 38 per cent of Gen Z polled in a recent survey expressed a desire to have designated spaces for hookups and self-love at work.

How one organization is re-thinking dating

Although not specifically for Gen Z, another noteworthy force in the in-person dating landscape is the relationship-building organization called We Met IRL, founded in 2022 by entrepreneur Maxine Simone Williams.

Born out of frustration with dating apps and the lack of diversity in traditional dating spaces, We Met IRL hosts speed dating events, mixers and social gatherings that encourage romantic or platonic connections offline.

The desire for in-person romance among Gen Z is beginning to shift the cultural needle, at least in the United States where a recent survey indicates that only 23 per cent of Gen Z adults met their partner through a dating app, social media or online community.

So, if a lot of these young people are already dating in-person, why is it often spoken about as being hard or stressful?

In-person dating is hard

Dating in-person can be challenging for a number of reasons. Key culprits include the fact that dating apps focus on performative and inauthentic forms of communication, the challenges of coming-of-age during the pandemic and the cultural shift away from relationships all together.

A study I conducted with Gen Z students also highlighted the reasons behind the decline of relationships. Gen Z want meaningful partnerships, but fear getting cheated on, ghosted or emotionally hurt.

Socio-cultural factors like the retreat of men from intimacy and vulnerability also feed into the dismantling of traditional relationship structures and gender relations more broadly. These shifts have a cascading effect on younger generations and boys, in particular, are described as being “lost” and less emotionally resilient.

The rise of misogynistic influencers and politicians openly denigrating women as part of their radicalization of boys and young men is only making things worse.

And yes, some of the awkwardness around in-person dating might come down to what that young woman called “extrovert privilege.” A recent study found that Gen Z are more shy than other generations but not for no reason. Growing up immersed in smartphone technology and social media means Gen Z have had fewer opportunities to develop interpersonal skills.

In-person dating can be hard, but not because there’s something wrong with you or because there are fewer good catches out there. It’s hard because connection, trust and vulnerability are difficult in a complex world that doesn’t always create the space you need to learn about relationships and interpersonal communication.

How to build confidence with in-person dating

As a formerly painfully shy young person, I can say with confidence that the categories of introvert and extrovert are not written in stone. There is ample evidence to show that Gen Zers who are less confident in the realm of romance can learn to enhance their in-person skills and reduce anxiety around social events.

Here are seven tips from licensed counsellors for ways to build your in-person skills:

1. Prepare for the event ahead of time when possible.

2. Reframe how you view and feel about uncertainty — not as a threat, but as an opportunity for growth.

3. Stay grounded in who you are.

4. Practise social skills to gain confidence.

5. Pay attention to your body language — to make sure you appear open and welcoming.

6. Remind yourself you’re not the only one struggling with feeling confident.

7. Consider seeking the help of a therapist if fear or anxiety is overwhelming.

Reframing your vulnerability as being less about your ingrained tendencies and more an opportunity for you to reflect on who you area as a social being is one of the most powerful things you can do.

Tools like reflexive vision boards or self-reflection exercises can help you explore your values, goals and identity in meaningful ways. These reflective practices are even more effective when supported by schools, communities or organizations that can help young people turn moments of risk or fear into opportunities for personal exploration.

Building resilience is like building muscle: it needs to be exercised and challenged to grow into the resource we need it to be. With the right support and space to practice, you can build the kind of confidence and self-awareness that carries into every part of your life, not just dating.

Treena Orchard has received funding from SSHRC, CIHR, and Western University, however, no research funding was awarded or used in the creation of this article.

– ref. Why in-person dating is making a comeback — and why Gen Z is struggling with it – https://theconversation.com/why-in-person-dating-is-making-a-comeback-and-why-gen-z-is-struggling-with-it-257210

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Neil McArthur, Director, Centre for Professional and Applied Ethics, University of Manitoba

People are falling in love with their chatbots. There are now dozens of apps that offer intimate companionship with an AI-powered bot, and they have millions of users. A recent survey of users found that 19 per cent of Americans have interacted with an AI meant to simulate a romantic partner.

The response has been polarizing. In a New Yorker article titled “Your A.I. Lover Will Change You,” futurist Jaron Lanier argued that “when it comes to what will happen when people routinely fall in love with an A.I., I suggest we adopt a pessimistic estimate about the likelihood of human degradation.”

Podcaster Joe Rogan put it more succinctly — in a recent interview with Sen. Bernie Sanders, the two discussed the “dystopian” prospect of people marrying their AIs. Noting a case where this has already happened, Rogan said: “I’m like, oh, we’re done. We’re cooked.”

We’re probably not cooked. Rather, we should consider accepting human-AI relationships as beneficial and healthy. More and more people are going to form such relationships in the coming years, and my research in sexuality and technology indicates it is mostly going to be fine.

Ruining human connection

When surveying the breathless media coverage, the main concern raised is that chatbots will spoil us for human connection. How could we not prefer their cheerful personalities, their uncomplicated affection and their willingness to affirm everything we say?

The fear is that, seduced by such easy companionship, many people will surely give up their desire to find human partners, while others will lose their ability to form satisfying human relationships even if they want to.

It has been less than three years since the launch of ChatGPT and other chatbots based on large language models. That means we can only speculate about the long-term effects of AI-human relationships on our capacity for intimacy. There is little data to support either side of the debate, though we can do our best to make sense of more short-term studies and other pieces of available evidence.

There are certain risks that we do know about already, and we should take them seriously. For instance, we know that AI companion apps have terrible privacy policies. Chatbots can encourage destructive behaviours. Tragically, one may have played a role in a teenager’s suicide.

The companies that provide these apps can go out of business, or they can change their terms of service without warning. This can suddenly deprive users of access to technology that they’ve become emotionally attached, with no recourse or support.

Complex relationships

In assessing the dangers of relationships with AI, however, we should remember that human relationships are not exactly risk-free. One recent paper concluded that “the association between relationship distress and various forms of psychopathology is as strong as many other well-known predictors of mental illness.”

This is not to say we should swap human companions for AI ones. We just need to keep in mind that relationships can be messy, and we are always trying to balance the various challenges that come with them. AI relationships are no different.

We should also remember that just because someone forms an intimate bond with a chatbot, that doesn’t mean it will be their only close relationship. Most people have lots of different people in their lives, who play a variety of different roles. Chatbot users may depend on their AI companions for support and affirmation, while still having relationships with humans that provide different kinds of challenges and rewards.

Meta’s Mark Zuckerberg has suggested that AI companions may help solve the problem of loneliness. However, there is some (admittedly very preliminary data) to suggest that many of the people who form connections with chatbots are not just trying to escape loneliness.

In a recent study (which has not yet been peer reviewed), researchers found that feelings of loneliness did not play a measurable role in someone’s desire to form a relationship with an AI. Instead, the key predictor seemed to be a desire to explore romantic fantasies in a safe environment.

Support and safety

We should be willing to accept AI-human relationships without judging the people who form them. This follows a general moral principle that most of us already accept: we should respect the choices people make about their intimate lives when those choices don’t harm anyone else. However, we can also take steps to ensure that these relationships are as safe and satisfying as possible.

First of all, governments should implement regulations to address the risks we know about already. They should, for instance, hold companies accountable when their chatbots suggest or encourage harmful behaviour.

Governments should also consider safeguards to restrict access by younger users, or at least to control the behaviour of chatbots who are interacting with young people. And they should mandate better privacy protections — though this is a problem that spans the entire tech industry.

Read more:
Teenagers turning to AI companions are redefining love as easy, unconditional and always there

Second, we need public education so people understand exactly what these chatbots are and the issues that can arise with their use. Everyone would benefit from full information about the nature of AI companions but, in particular, we should develop curricula for schools as soon as possible.

While governments may need to consider some form of age restriction, the reality is that large numbers of young people are already using this technology, and will continue to do so. We should offer them non-judgmental resources to help them navigate their use in a manner that supports their well-being, rather than stigmatizes their choices.

AI lovers aren’t going to replace human ones. For all the messiness and agony of human relationships, we still (for some reason) pursue other people. But people will also keep experimenting with chatbot romances, if for no other reason than they can be a lot of fun.

Neil McArthur 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. More people are considering AI lovers, and we shouldn’t judge – https://theconversation.com/more-people-are-considering-ai-lovers-and-we-shouldnt-judge-260631