The UK’s wealth ‘timebomb’ – and how to defuse it

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Mike Savage, Professorial Research Fellow, International Inequalities Institute, London School of Economics and Political Science

When the full, unexpurgated diaries of the Conservative MP Sir Henry “Chips” Channon were published in 2021, these disarmingly frank accounts of his aristocratic life in mid-20th century Britain caused a stir. They revealed the inner thoughts of a renowned social climber and rightwing snob, whose political career never recovered from his record as an appeaser of Nazi Germany.

Having married into the Guinness family fortune, Channon revelled in the booty of landed wealth: the thrill at purchasing a country house, Kelvedon Hall in Essex; the glitter of cut glass in the lavish dinner parties he hosted; extravagant bejewelled gifts for his many lovers; the whirl of expensive European holidays and chauffeur-driven cars. One diary entry describes Channon and friends partying with Nazi leaders including Hermann Göring while in Berlin for the 1936 Olympics.

But there is an intriguing counterpoint to his naked love of wealth. During the later 1930s under a Conservative-led coalition government, taxes began to rise to pay for Britain’s rearmament in preparation for war. Writing about then-chancellor Sir John Simon’s “staggering” first war budget late in 1939, Channon recalled:

There was a gasp when he said that income tax would be 7/6 [37.5p] in the £. The crowded House [of Commons] was dumbfounded … Increased surtax, lower allowances, raised duties on wine, cigarettes and sugar, substantially increased death duties. It’s all so bad that one can only make the best of it, and reorganise one’s life accordingly.

This and subsequent tax increases had a massive effect on Channon’s lavish lifestyle. During the second world war, his Kelvedon estate was repurposed as a military hospital – part of the large-scale selling off of landed estates that changed the face of rural Britain (as evoked in Evelyn Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited). Yet Channon’s attitude to these privations was pragmatic: he would just have to pay the extra and get on with his life as best he could.

It is now widely recognised that our current times bear uncanny parallels with the 1930s – from the rise of authoritarian regimes to huge pressures on public spending in the context of volatile economic conditions. Yet unlike that pre-war period, today’s proposals to raise taxation on high incomes and wealth are being met with huge pushback – sometimes amounting to hysteria – from parts of society and the media.


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Rather than the pragmatism that Channon and many of his wealthy contemporaries displayed, some public commentary implies that increasing tax on the wealthy is akin to infringing the natural order of things. The new Labour government’s adjustment of inheritance tax in autumn 2024 to bring farm property into line with other assets was met with protests on the streets.

The same year, reforms to end tax exemptions for “non-domiciled” UK residents (those who claim their permanent home is outside the UK) – initially announced by Conservative chancellor Jeremy Hunt – provoked a flurry of (mostly unsubstantiated) claims that the international super-rich would be leaving the UK for better pastures abroad.

Whatever happened to the stoicism of the rich, prepared to shoulder their responsibilities for social wellbeing in the face of pressing economic and political challenges?

Perhaps the key difference between Channon’s time and our own is revealed in two graphs which show dramatic changes in the distribution and degree of wealth held in Britain over the last century. At the time Channon was writing, wealth assets per head were vastly smaller than they are now – having declined since the early 20th century, mostly due to wartime depredation. However, from the 1950s on, they began a remarkable ascent.

From the dawn of human history, it took many millennia for the mean amount of wealth per Briton to equate to £50k – reached sometime in the 1970s. Yet a mere 40 years after that, this personal wealth figure had tripled:

UK personal wealth over time:

Graph showing average UK personal wealth, 1855-2024
Average UK per-capita wealth, 1855-2024.
World Inequality Database, CC BY-NC-SA

This dramatic rise in UK wealth ownership was matched by a change in who owned it. In Channon’s time, the top 1% wealthiest people owned an astonishing 50% of the UK’s total – which makes sense of his stoicism. He knew well enough that only a few upper-class people like him had substantial wealth, while large numbers of Britons lived in straitened conditions and could not realistically pay more tax. When the going got tough, there was little option but for people like him to cough up.

Since then, the wealth share held by the top 1% has more than halved, dropping to around 20% of the total. And the UK’s wealthiest 10% now owns just under 60% – down from 90% in Channon’s day:

UK wealth inequality over time:

Graph showing UK wealth inequality, 1895-2023
UK wealth inequality, 1895-2023.
World Inequality Database, CC BY-NC-SA

On the face of it, these two graphs appear to tell a cheerful and progressive story. The UK, like many rich countries, has become much wealthier, and these benefits are being more widely spread. What’s not to like?

In fact, many influential economists – including contributors to the Institute for Fiscal Studies’ influential Deaton Review – have identified the build-up of private wealth as a worrying trend for Britain. Where the vast increase in the nation’s wealth over the past 75 years could have been invested for the good of the nation, it has been largely squirrelled away into private hands, inflating the wealth of the UK’s upper and middle class to the detriment of society as a whole.

As a sociologist, I have long researched the impact of class inequalities on British society – and how class, gender, racial and regional divides are mutually reinforcing.

I am now increasingly concerned by the way the build-up of private wealth assets intensifies these inequalities – potentially to breaking point. Left unchecked, I believe Britain’s “wealth timebomb” will enlarge the current ruptures in society – already reflected in the rise of angry populist political movements – leaving a calamitous legacy for future generations.

As UK chancellor Rachel Reeves’s options for potential increases in wealth and other taxes are debated ahead of a highly anticipated budget on November 26, I’d argue that such discussions should not be framed purely in technical terms – of what is an efficient way of raising funds for the public purse without damaging UK prosperity.




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There is a much broader cultural politics of wealth that needs addressing. In particular, it is time to stress-test the seemingly widespread view that wealth should be treated entirely as a private good, and does not come with any social obligations.

This idea leads to the deeply dysfunctional view that wealth assets are free to be amassed, spent and passed on by their owners with scant encroachment in the form of taxation. Chips Channon can be criticised for many things – but even he did not agree with that.

The collective effort of generations

The contemporary reluctance to tax wealth, in Britain and many other rich countries, is actually very unusual. Throughout history, most societies have seen this form of resource redistribution as utterly reasonable.

One of William the Conqueror’s first acts after the Norman invasion of 1066 was to commission the Domesday book to systematically record the landed assets of his newly conquered land. In poorer societies, wealth stocks were the most viable assets to tax.

Throughout British history, private wealth holders were often sanctioned for flouting common norms of “reciprocity” and fairness for the people who worked for them. In the aristocratic landed estates that made up Britain’s main form of wealth until the early 20th century, owners were still under strong moral pressure to operate them for the wider public good.

Similarly, in a strong manufacturing economy like Britain’s, it was uncontentious to regard wealth derived from owning factories and businesses as some kind of social product – the result of profits from the often gruelling lives of many workers. Those fortunate to possess large stocks of wealth were generally expected to take some kind of social responsibility for their workers.

A few 19th-century philanthropists were explicit about the public value of private wealth. Most famously, American steel magnate Andrew Carnegie’s Gospel of Wealth inspired a radical liberal critique of wealth that influenced Britain’s Liberal government (1905-15) to champion the taxation of high levels of private wealth. This became a central tenet of new liberalism in the early 20th century, as described by Britain’s first ever sociology professor, Lionel Hobhouse:

The prosperous businessman who thinks that he has made his fortune entirely by self-help does not pause to consider what single step he could have taken on the road to his success but for the ordered tranquillity which has made commercial development possible: the security by road and rail and sea, the masses of skilled labour, and the sum of intelligence which civilisation has placed at his disposal … The inventions which he uses as a matter of course, and which have been built up by the collective effort of generations of men of science and organisers of industry.

Defending this idea of “common wealth” extended to Tory radicals too – including the Victorian cultural critic John Ruskin, who in 1860 famously wrote “there is no wealth but life” – declaring:

That country is the richest which nourishes the greatest numbers of noble and happy human beings. That man is richest who, having perfected the functions of his own life to the utmost, has the widest helpful influence, both personal and by means of his possessions, over the lives of others.

The period from the late 19th century, when Britain enjoyed global dominance through its combined industrial and military strength, also saw strong political currents at home. These emphasised the need for municipal ownership of amenities such as electricity, gas, water and many other public building projects – with the city of Birmingham providing one of the most influential models.

Such public-spirited benevolence emphatically did not extend to Britain’s colonial possessions – which were routinely treated as uncivilised territories to be raided, despoiled and exploited for the benefits of their colonial master. But at home, there was a clear understanding amid the rich elite of the need for their wealth to play a role in building a better-functioning society for all who lived in Britain – most of whom did not own any of it.

There were often religious and moral beliefs underlying these views. But as the case of Chips Channon suggests, there was also a self-interested recognition that the wealthy themselves benefited from recognising the social role of wealth, in its ability to help create an educated, ordered workforce and calm, respectful society. What, then, has happened to this collective vision of wealth?

The rise of ‘ordinary’ wealth

By the early 21st century, wealth was no longer the preserve of the gilded few in the UK. Inspired in particular by prime minister Margaret Thatcher’s 1979-90 Conservative government, the prospects of mass ownership of wealth assets – starting with your own home – was held out as a realistic possibility for most Britons.

This major shift was echoed in many rich countries. French economist Thomas Piketty regards today’s “proprietarian middle class”, who enjoy the benefits of wealth assets typically tied up in their homes and pension funds, as a key feature of contemporary capitalism.

In Britain, the proportion of owner-occupiers rose from around 38% of UK properties in 1958 to 70% by 2003 – propelled in large part by Thatcher’s cut-price “right to buy” council houses scheme. Yet this came at a cost for others. The thinktank Common Wealth has estimated this scheme cost British taxpayers £200 billion in terms of the wealth or income that would have been available to local councils had they had sold at full market value or retained the homes – equating to “one of the largest giveaways in UK history”.

A second major form of “ordinary” wealth is tied up in pension funds, offering future rewards for people enrolled in occupational or other kinds of pension schemes. Given that this wealth is only realisable from age 55 (rising to 57 in 2028), it can appear highly hypothetical for younger people. Nonetheless, The Resolution Foundation calculates that pension assets are now the single largest wealth stock across UK households.

Pensions and property have changed the cultural politics of private wealth. It is no longer seen as the prerequisite of the privileged few.

But at the same time, the nation’s “common” wealth has been stripped back due to privatisation, reduced welfare benefits, and the build-up of national debt – which (excluding public sector banks) has risen from less than 30% of UK GDP in 1993 to just under 100%.

This has created a public-to-private wealth cycle. Straitened public services – in part the result of national and local government cuts and a reduction in infrastructure investment – make ordinary private wealth seem much more important as a buffer against potential shocks such as ill health, redundancy and care needs. As a result, keeping hold of this private wealth feels critical to large numbers of people.

Its cultural appeal is also understandable. Private wealth can be seen as the product of personal endeavour like putting down a deposit to buy a house or paying into a pension scheme. For people who have grafted to acquire a modest wealth holding (or aspire to do so), the idea that wealth is a collective and social product can feel alien.

In reality, however, the Thatcherite, neoliberal model which championed the democratisation of wealth was never a sustainable vision – because it did not provide a viable, long-term way of establishing cultural norms of social reciprocity. Indeed, even before Thatcher’s reign as prime minister ended in 1990, the wealth shares of the top 1% and 10% had stopped declining – and they have been pretty much flatlining, possibly even edging up slightly, ever since.

Just as the UK’s total wealth began to rise at record rates, the democratisation of wealth reached its limits. Politically and economically, a new wall was established. Policies ever since have prioritised those people with wealth who typically also have the most political and cultural influence. And overwhelmingly, this does not include young people.

The UK’s wealth ‘timebomb’

While Britain’s private wealth is more widely shared among people than in the early 20th century, its distribution is still extremely unequal – far more so than income. The Resolution Foundation (RF) calculates that half of UK families have no net wealth at all, with debts outweighing assets for 40% of households.

Given the continuing upward trend in house prices, the prospects of getting on the property ladder for people in this “wealthless” half are remote. At the same time, private rents have climbed substantially, with the UK monthly average rising from £948 in January 2015 to £1,286 in August 2024.

Meanwhile, since 2009, most of the benefits of quantitative easing – designed to boost the UK economy in the wake of the 2008 global financial crisis and later COVID – have leached into the hands of the already wealthy, without percolating down to the rest of society. The RF’s sober summary is that wealth gains “flowed disproportionately to older, asset-rich households and homeowners in certain parts of the country (particularly London). The result is a wealth landscape that is both highly unequal and harder to climb.”

This proliferation of wealth also intensifies other inequality. A recent report I co-authored for the Runnymede Trust demonstrates the astonishing depth of the racial wealth divide. Black African and Bangladeshi households have only 10% of the wealth that white British households enjoy. There are also marked gender wealth divides, notably due to pension wealth – because men are more likely to be the beneficiaries of occupational pension schemes.

All this is in the context of a UK economy that is widely recognised as stagnating. Are the two linked? Almost certainly.

There is now an influential body of thought which emphasises the structural limitations of “asset economies” or “rentier capitalism”, in which economic returns are primarily driven by passive rent-seeking behaviour. For those with wealth, why invest in a risky new start-up scheme (their own or someone else’s) when they can enjoy risk-free “passive” returns on their existing assets?

According to the RF, 53% of the increase in UK household wealth between 2010-22 was due to the passive effects of asset price inflation (such as being beneficiaries of house price rises) rather than active investment – be that paying off debts or profiting from entrepreneurial graft.

This bias towards passive wealth helps explain both Britain’s stagnating economy and the static nature of private wealth. Together, they are storing up a massive challenge to any ideas of intergenerational fairness, as young people’s future prospects increasingly depend on which side of the wealth fence they were born on.

The work of sociologists such as Sam Friedman has demonstrated how the prospects of working-class children reaching the top levels of professional and managerial employment are limited by a pervasive “class ceiling”. Similarly, the prospects of young adults acquiring wealth depend increasingly on whether their own parents are wealthy.




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As austerity politics has eroded collective public provision, people are forced back on to their own economic resources, if they have them. In a society where the acquisition of private wealth seems to be the social norm, it is understandable how a mentality of “pulling up the drawbridge” can take hold. In this era, the appeal of populist movements has taken hold – spawning a politics of distrust and hate.

It’s clear the UK has reached the limits of Thatcher’s “democratisation of wealth” agenda. It is unrealistic to expect the wealth net to spread any wider. And therefore, I believe it is now vital (and urgent) to challenge the historically anomalous, unsustainable view that the rewards of private wealth should only be enjoyed by those fortunate enough to possess it.

But what does this mean for the nuts and bolts of taxation policy?

The case for introducing a wealth tax. Video: Financial Times.

Why wealth should be taxed more

For Rachel Reeves and her successors at No.11 Downing Street, the financial room for manoeuvre is very restricted. When considering tax changes, chancellors must first scan the financial markets to consider how their budget and other policy decisions could affect the bond markets and broader financial stability of the UK economy.

Nonetheless, there are powerful technical reasons why wealth should be taxed more.

Given that substantial private income is based on returns to capital (in the form of rent, share dividends and so forth), it seems entirely logical to treat this as equivalent in taxation terms.

Yet whereas higher-rate taxpayers pay income tax 40% (rising to 45%), capital gains are taxed at between 24% and 32% (with some capital gains, notably those which accrue on a person’s primary property, not taxed at all). This is simply inconsistent.

It is widely recognised that the property tax system needs reforming, either through revaluing council tax or by modifying stamp duty on newly purchased properties. Ditto pension taxation – for example, by ditching the triple-lock system which increases the state pension each April by the highest of three measures: average earnings growth, inflation or 2.5%.

We are in the fortunate position that a great deal of background research has been done to demonstrate the feasibility of wealth taxation – and to dispel the common objections, from the supposed complexity of their collection to suggestions that many people will leave the country should a wealth tax be imposed on the very rich. (Behavioural analysis of how many wealthy people do actually leave a country after the introduction of tax reforms shows it is unusual to do so.) In all cases, the evidence against these taxes is thin and easily countered.

Meanwhile, around the world, an increasing number of mainstream economists such as Gabriel Zucman now champion arguments for taxing wealth head-on. In his proposals for an internationally coordinated standard taxation for ultra-high-net-worth individuals, the threshold for paying this tax is set very high: at 2% of the assets of dollar billionaires.

France debates the proposed ‘Zucman’ wealth tax. Video: France 24.

Defenders of private wealth sometimes portray wealth taxation as a socialist project, opening the door to some kind of full-blown communist revolution. But this kind of pigeonholing is simply wrong: the case for taxing wealth has historically come from the political mainstream.

Nonetheless, to make a convincing case in the current climate, it is important to extend the analysis beyond purely technical, economic arguments (which most critics of such taxes are reluctant to do). Ultimately, for wealth taxation to become politically palatable demands big cultural and social questions of the people who own it in very large quantities.

Extreme vs ordinary wealth

We are living in a remarkable period of human history. The total amount of private wealth has mushroomed in recent decades, in Britain and across the world. On the face of it, this appears to testify to some astonishing human progress in an incredibly short time period.

Yet I doubt many readers of this article are feeling this sense of personal advancement – even those who have benefited (directly or indirectly) from the democratisation of wealth since Channon gleefully revelled in his upper-class bubble in the mid-20th century.

Even many of those with “ordinary” levels of wealth don’t necessarily feel well off. Wealth sunk into expensive property or pension savings can radically eat into other living expenses. Which leads me to an important conclusion about the need to focus on taxing wealth itself – not just the income from wealth.

For many people, wealth is not simply about money. It evokes the possibility of leading a “good life” and being able to flourish in the future – not only yourself but your offspring and wider family. This is especially true, and understandable, when it comes to the idea of being able to live in owner-occupied property. Even in the UK’s most eyewatering property regions, many of these owners of ordinary wealth are still a world apart from those whose private wealth can be classified as “extreme”.

Taxing the latter via a “whole wealth” tax has a clear advantage in establishing the argument head-on that very large amounts of private wealth should have some public purpose. Even Channon recognised this.

But as exponents of limitarianism emphasise, only those whose wealth is above a certain threshold should be liable to such a tax. The 2020 Wealth Tax Commission calculated that setting a threshold at £500,000 per year would raise around £260 billion, if charged at 1% per year for five years. Setting the threshold much higher at £2 million, thus affecting roughly 2% of Britons, would still raise £80 million.

These figures (though in need of updating) indicate the potential for raising public funds in a reasonable way, without descending into rancour and political name-calling. By setting an appropriate threshold, it can be clearly established that ordinary wealth need not be taxed – so as not to alienate the large numbers of people who understandably value the security their wealth stocks provide.

Perhaps most importantly, it would restore the vital principle that private wealth entails social responsibilities. When the augmentation of wealth is driven by passive processes such as asset price inflation – as so much of it is today – then it is surely a stretch to view this as down to your own efforts alone.

Even those who acquire their wealth by entrepreneurial drive and flair still need the support of the wider social infrastructure that educates, cures and supports their workers and customers. We need to revive the cultural politics of common wealth, before the timebomb explodes.


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Mike Savage is affiliated with the LSE’s International Inequalities Institute where he convenes a research group exploring the ‘social impact of extreme wealth’. His work has been supported by various funders including the ESRC and UKRI.

ref. The UK’s wealth ‘timebomb’ – and how to defuse it – https://theconversation.com/the-uks-wealth-timebomb-and-how-to-defuse-it-268700

Lily Allen’s new album is ‘autofiction’ – but turning your life into a story carries ethical and emotional risks

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Elaine Gregersen, Associate Professor in the School of Law, Northumbria University, Newcastle

To listen to Lily Allen’s new album West End Girl is to be drawn into the painful disintegration of a marriage. It feels like we are there, with Allen: on the call learning about her husband’s alleged infidelity, reading the texts on his phone, finding the physical evidence.

The critics love it. Fans are writing obsessive, breathless newsletters about it. One reviewer said that it may well have changed the chemistry in their brain.

I was alone in my office when I first pressed play, expecting a couple of catchy but ultimately forgettable pop songs. After listening to the album from start to finish – twice – I ran downstairs and subjected my own husband to a track-by-track breakdown. I recounted every twist in the tale like I was reading out a celebrity gossip page.

Unlike her contemporaries, Allen hadn’t succumbed to coy sexual metaphors about “knocking on wood”. This was raw, in-your-face, storytelling about imagining another woman naked on top of your spouse. It felt like Allen had created a theatrical moment. I wasn’t wrong – it turns out she’s touring the entire album in theatres next year.




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I couldn’t stop thinking about the record. Allen’s voice was inside my head, repeating the words of her ex. “If it has to happen baby, do you want to know?” is a particular earworm. This emotional connection came from the album’s intimacy and the sense of catharsis – here was a woman openly exorcising her failed marriage.

Indeed, Allen has noted how making the record was a way for her “to process what was happening” in her life. She also said that the album could be considered a “work of auto fiction” in which an alter ego named Lily Allen has gone through a devastating breakup.

Madeline, from Lily Allen’s album West End Girl.

Allen’s decision to agree to an interviewer’s description of West End Girl as a work of autofiction is revealing. The term is usually reserved for novels that draw heavily on the author’s experience while blurring the line between real and imagined. But its use here signals something bigger. Each song becomes a piece of fieldwork – the sound of someone analysing her own life in real time.

Turning life into data

That impulse – to turn our personal experience into artistic material that can be appreciated by others – is what fascinates me as an academic. My own research explores autoethnography, a contemporary method where the researcher turns the mirror on their own life.

Autoethnographers write about their own experiences as a way of understanding broader social and cultural issues. Like Allen’s confessional album, the aim isn’t self-indulgence, but insight.

Yet there’s often a cost to that kind of authenticity. When you use your own story as material, you may expose more than yourself. Writing – or singing – about your life inevitably involves others.

Autoethnographers call this relational ethics: the duty to protect third parties while still speaking truthfully. I thought about this when journalists clamoured to discover the real identity of “Madeline” – the other woman from Allen’s lyrics – or when people gleefully joked about how her ex-husband would have the most miserable upcoming press tour.

Pussy Palace from Lily Allen’s album, West End Girl.

In autoethnography, there is no single code of conduct for navigating these tensions. There are plenty of proposals – seek consent where possible, disguise identities – but even the most careful guidelines can’t cover every circumstance. Ethical writing is situational and relies on careful judgment.

No list of rules can tell Allen, or any writer, how much truth is too much. The challenge is to balance artistic integrity with wellbeing – to ask, before sharing, who might be affected by this story, and how?

Then there’s the writer themselves. When we release our story to the world, it remains out there. The tale becomes fixed in time – a version of ourselves we can’t evolve or retract. Later, we may come to see events in a different light. We may regret exposing what we have revealed.

Art like West End Girl is powerful because it collapses the distance between the creator and audience, but that same intimacy – rehearsed again and again – can retraumatise the storyteller. The process of telling our truth may be cathartic at the time, but it can also open old wounds. Who knows whether Allen will still want to be recreating her fragility for our entertainment in years to come.

The lesson from both autoethnography and Allen’s album is to tell our stories responsibly. Sharing our narratives can be healing and politically powerful – it can give voice to experiences that tend to be ignored. But we need to take care. West End Girl reminds us that the line between art and real life is thin, and that the most compelling stories are often the riskiest to tell.


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The Conversation

Elaine Gregersen 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. Lily Allen’s new album is ‘autofiction’ – but turning your life into a story carries ethical and emotional risks – https://theconversation.com/lily-allens-new-album-is-autofiction-but-turning-your-life-into-a-story-carries-ethical-and-emotional-risks-269014

Housing asylum seekers in military barracks will be hugely expensive – and politically costly

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Melanie Griffiths, Associate Professor, School of Geography, Earth and Environmental Sciences, University of Birmingham

In an effort to end the use of hotels to house asylum seekers, the UK government has announced that 900 people will be moved to military sites. Though this is a small fraction of the 32,000 currently housed in hotels, the Home Office hopes that up to 10,000 people might soon be accommodated in ex-military sites.

The first two sites are Crowborough army training camp in East Sussex, and Cameron Barracks in Inverness, where MPs and local councillors have already raised concerns about community safety and cohesion.

It wasn’t long ago that the previous Conservative government moved hundreds of asylum seekers to “large sites”, including ex-military facilities and the Bibby Stockholm barge.

Back then, Labour was in opposition and highly critical of the scheme. Now in power, Labour is not only adopting the policy but planning a significant expansion. But they are likely to face the same issues as previous efforts to move asylum seekers to large sites: dangerous conditions, community unrest and ballooning costs.

Before it closed in 2024, the Bibby Stockholm was plagued with accusations of physical and mental health harm, outbreaks of disease, and suicide.

According to Médecins Sans Frontières, Wethersfield asylum centre – opened on a former RAF airfield in 2023 – caused people “severe mental health distress”. Asylum seekers were moved out of the site after being exposed to risks of unexploded ordnance, radiological contamination, and poisonous gases.

Conditions in Napier Barracks in Folkestone were found to be unsanitary and overcrowded. The independent immigration watchdog described “decrepit” buildings unfit for habitation. Conditions were so poor that in 2021 the High Court ruled that the Home Office had employed unlawful practices housing people there during the pandemic.

Plans to close Napier and Wethersfield have been repeatedly postponed and it appears that there are growing numbers of residents again.

Barracks are extremely expensive. Whitehall’s spending watchdog found that they cost significantly more than expected, even exceeding the costs of asylum hotels. Although the Home Office originally estimated they would provide marginal savings, later estimates suggested that large sites could cost £46 million more than using hotels over the same period.

The watchdog found that this was due to high set-up and refurbishment costs coupled with the millions wasted on failed plans, such as RAF Scampton which had £60 million spent on it before the plan was scrapped.

Barracks also segregate and marginalise those who live there from communities, stoking tensions. Using barracks echoes earlier use of military sites to intern “enemy aliens” during the world wars. This imagery further demonises asylum seekers and is likely to compound community fears, opening the door to far-right exploitation, and anti-immigrant protests and violence.

Privatisation of asylum accommodation

The government is legally obliged to house asylum seekers in need while they await refugee decisions. Given the large backlog, this often now takes over a year.

Previously, such housing was predominantly provided through relatively cheap multiple-occupancy, self-caterered “dispersal” accommodation. This cost about £27 per person per night, compared to £170 for hotels.

The system was privatised 13 years ago, leading to prioritisation of profits and spiralling accommodation costs.

Although the privatised contracts were intended for the cheaper dispersal accommodation, a clause allowing short-term use of “contingency” accommodation such as hotels has been used by providers. With hotels offering companies lower financial risk and greater profit than dispersal accommodation, this costly “contingency” practice quickly became normalised.

Privatisation also meant that local authorities lost their power to manage and inspect accommodation, leading to poor conditions in hotels and other housing.

Although barracks and hotels have proven disastrous for people living in them, a handful of property tycoons have made fortunes. This includes repeat scandal-hit Serco, and the Essex businessman Graham King, whose £750 million fortune makes him one of the 350 richest people in the UK.

King founded Clearsprings Ready Homes, which in 2019 won 10-year contracts for providing asylum accommodation and transportation in Wales and the South. Clearsprings runs Napier and Wethersfield barracks, where security staff walked out over pay and work conditions just a few weeks ago.

The contract’s value has grown tenfold since being signed: from £0.7 billion to a whopping £7 billion. The company has seen a meteoric rise in profits; from under £800,000 in 2020, to £28 million in 2022, and £90 million in 2024.

Clearsprings’ profits are ballooning despite being accused of running squalid flats and providing accommodation under “terrible conditions”, with poor food and hygiene, and rationed period products and toilet paper. (The Conversation has approached Clearsprings for comment.)

It seems that, however poor the provision of accommodation by private providers, little scuppers the arrangements. Contracts are almost never terminated, and fines or penalties are rare. The Home Office has also done little to reclaim millions of pounds in excess profits owed by some providers.

What are the alternatives?

Moving asylum seekers to military sites is likely to prove as financially and politically costly to Labour as previous governments. So, what are the alternatives?

If large sites must be used, they should be neutral places such as empty student accommodation and office blocks, rather than punitive or contentious spaces like barracks and hotels. They must also provide kitchen access, to improve wellbeing and reduce catering costs.

Better would be a return to dispersal accommodation, which would save money and end the ghettoisation of asylum seekers. Beyond this, letting asylum seekers work would reduce their financial dependency on the state.

Ending the privatisation experiment and bringing asylum accommodation back into public management would restore accountability and oversight, improving both taxpayers’ value for money and conditions for asylum seekers.

Ultimately, the vilification of asylum seekers is happening in the context of a wider housing crisis. Unless the problems around overall housing supply and exorbitant rents are addressed, divisive politics around asylum housing will continue.

The Conversation

Melanie Griffiths has received funding from the ESRC and British Academy for migration-related research. She sits on the trustee boards of the NGOs Right to Remain and Open Door.

ref. Housing asylum seekers in military barracks will be hugely expensive – and politically costly – https://theconversation.com/housing-asylum-seekers-in-military-barracks-will-be-hugely-expensive-and-politically-costly-268696

Ukraine’s massive nature project is helping veterans and land recover

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Natasha Lindstaedt, Professor in the Department of Government, University of Essex

A pelican in the Dalamtian delta, where a massive rewilding project is taking place. Neil Aldridge/Rewilding Ukraine.

Ukrainians have always felt closely tied to their land, often expressing this through literature and folktales. But these connections have grown even stronger since the country was invaded by Russia in 2022.

Forests, rivers and meadows in Ukraine are considered sacred spaces and important to resilience. As Ukrainians have dealt with the constant stress of war, nature has been a place to reconnect.

Ukraine has also been at the forefront of large-scale nature restoration in Europe in recent years. The country is planning two new national parks: Budzhak Steppes National Natural Park (in the Odessa region in the south) and the Great Carpathians National Park (in the south-west). And a project called Rewilding Ukraine has begun restoring some 13,500 hectares of wetlands and steppe (unforested grasslands) – that’s almost twice as big an area as Manhattan in the US.

This is serious rewilding. Compare this scale to that to one of the best known examples of rewilding in England, for instance – the Knepp Castle estate in west Sussex which involves some 3,500 acres (1416 hectares).

Rewilding these areas of Ukraine has involved the release of over 240 animals of different species, including kulan (wild donkeys), steppe marmots, eagle owls, fallow deer and even hamsters which are native to the region and the building of two breeding platforms for Dalmatian pelicans.

Interventions such as the removal of 200 meters of man-made dams surrounding Ermakiv Island are allowing beavers to thrive and the natural ecosystem to rebalance. There are benefits for the local human populations too, as flooding in villages and towns is reduced.

Help for veterans

The impact of this massive rewilding project is not only being felt in the landscapes of the Danube delta and adjacent Tarutino steppe in south-west Ukraine where vital efforts are being made to preserve this endangered habitat.

An initiative known as Nature for Veterans was launched in 2025 with the aim of helping soldiers and their families find emotional restoration from the horrors of war by immersing them in these newly revitalised areas of south-west Ukraine, far from the frontline.

A boat filled with people in a wild part of Ukraine.
Veterans visiting Ermakov Island.
Emmanuel Rondeau/Rewilding Ukraine

Many who avoided death in the conflict find themselves severely affected with post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and their loved ones have suffered in their own ways. The value of nature-based therapy for war veterans, particularly those with PTSD, has been understood for many years, since first world war survivors with “shell shock” were commonly prescribed time outdoors.

This has particular relevance to Ukraine today as figures from its ministry of health, suggest that some 1.8 million soldiers and veterans may need psychological support.


Wars and climate change are inextricably linked. Climate change can increase the likelihood of violent conflict by intensifying resource scarcity and displacement, while conflict itself accelerates environmental damage. This article is part of a series, War on Climate, which explores the relationship between climate issues and global conflicts.


Environmental damage

Of course, the war in Ukraine has not only generated a large number of casualties (totalling 400,000), but has also caused enormous destruction to its ecological landscape. Thousands of hectares have been burned, rivers have been polluted by shelling and biodiversity has been interrupted by artillery noise and displacement.

What’s more, as much as 30% of Ukraine has been contaminated by landmines. In total, environmental damage has exceeded US$127 billion (£96 billion).

To some extent, due to the contamination of land, the war has also made it more difficult for Ukrainians to connect with nature. And evidence suggests this disruption has affected their mental health, something that is backed up by research showing people’s relationship with their local environment affects their wellbeing.

For societies facing the constant stress of war and threats to the country’s territorial integrity, landscape and environment, the chance to connect with nature offers important benefits.

In the face of this type of stress, Ukrainians have found ways to restore their lost connections with nature either by rebuilding gardens, adapting to new landscapes and/or finding different ways of sustaining their traditions.

Rewilding is offering renewal and recovery for both Ukraine’s people and its environment.


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The Conversation

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. Ukraine’s massive nature project is helping veterans and land recover – https://theconversation.com/ukraines-massive-nature-project-is-helping-veterans-and-land-recover-268343

Why the UK’s grooming gangs inquiry is in turmoil – and what needs to happen now

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Anne-Marie McAlinden, Professor, School of Law, Queen’s University Belfast

The UK’s grooming gangs inquiry appears to be in turmoil before it has even started, following the resignation of several women from its victim liaison panel. Their complaints related mainly to appointments to chair the inquiry and the potential for its focus to be widened.

The difficulties facing the inquiry have led Reform UK’s Nigel Farage to describe it as “dead in the water”. After years of investigation and controversy over this topic, how did it come to this?

The issue of grooming gangs – referring here to predominantly Asian men grooming and sexually exploiting white girls across a range of English cities – first came to light from the early 2000s. The first prosecutions and convictions occurred from 2010. Hundreds of perpetrators have been convicted in cases involving thousands of victims across the UK. Other trials are ongoing.

There have been numerous inquiries or reviews into grooming gangs and child sexual exploitation at both local and national level. Local inquiries and serious case reviews have included those in Rotherham, Rochdale, Telford and Oldham.

At the national level, child sexual abuse was also examined more broadly by the independent inquiry into child sexual abuse, chaired by Professor Alexis Jay, which reported in October 2022. Some survivors and their advocates claimed the inquiry’s findings were not specific enough on grooming gangs. The government also faced criticism that survivors had been “let down” due to the lack of enactment of the inquiry’s core recommendations.

One recurring allegation has been that police and social workers failed to properly investigate and prosecute grooming gangs perpetrators, for fear of being labelled as racist.

Public and political pressure for a separate national statutory inquiry grew from January 2025, when Elon Musk intervened. Musk accused Prime Minister Keir Starmer of being complicit in a cover-up of grooming gangs when he was director of public prosecutions. The then home secretary, Yvette Cooper, announced a “rapid” review of evidence of the nature and scale of group-based sexual abuse to be led by Baroness Louise Casey.

The Casey report was published in June 2025. It concluded that the issues of race and ethnicity of those involved in grooming gangs had been “shied away from” by the authorities and advocated the need for a separate inquiry.

The government accepted this and Casey’s other recommendations, and announced a new national inquiry.

But the inquiry is now facing delays, after four survivors resigned from the victim liaison panel in protest of the government’s handling of the inquiry. They accused safeguarding minister Jess Phillips of contradicting them on the scope of the inquiry, and called for her resignation. Others on the panel, however, have said that Phillips remaining in post is a condition of their participation.

The women who resigned also expressed concerns over the two shortlisted candidates to chair the inquiry, who had backgrounds in social work and policing. Both candidates have now resigned.

What the inquiry needs now

In setting up inquiries, one of the most important principles is the need for an effective independent investigation of the facts. This means that panel members need to be appointed by open competition and must be independent of government.

For victims, the appointment of inquiry panellists with social work and policing backgrounds calls into question the inquiry’s independence from the state. This is especially significant given that social worker and police concerns with race and ethnicity have, historically, impeded investigations. At the same time, the composition of an inquiry panel needs to draw from a wide range of expertise – including legal and human rights backgrounds – to be effective.

Any inquiry should be cognisant of the trauma experienced by victims in both being groomed and abused, and not being believed. Survivors’ concerns could be addressed by appointing academics with expertise in policing and social work, rather than police officers or social workers themselves.

A well-established principle of abuse inquiries is that there must be a victim-centric approach. For survivors, the process of the inquiry matters as much as the outcome. Involving survivors in the process of selecting a chair, and as part of a consultative role, ensures their “buy-in” and establishes trust and credibility. The victim liaison panel helps to fulfil this role.

However, there is also a need to inform and manage survivor expectations about what inquiries can hope to achieve. In particular, as my research has established, inquiries are usually focused on broad, systemic institutional failings rather than on the accountability of individuals that many survivors want.




Read more:
Another public inquiry into institutional abuses – why they so often fail to deliver justice for victims


While the victim liaison panel was designed to give survivors a role in advising on the inquiry’s terms of reference, there are currently no terms of reference for the liaison panel itself. Setting out clear terms of reference for both the inquiry and the panel itself is essential for the inquiry to run smoothly.

Farage has called on the government to replace the statutory public inquiry with a parliamentary inquiry. Yet, this would not solve any of these issues and might even cement them. Parliamentary inquiries are usually small investigations, conducted by cross-party MPs who have powers to gather written and oral evidence.

A parliamentary inquiry would likely face criticisms from survivors about lack of independence – survivors would also have a very limited role in the process. Moreover, any recommendations for policy change from a parliamentary inquiry are not binding, so outcomes are substantially reduced.

More broadly, this controversy highlights the need for a comprehensive and thorough investigation of the facts from the outset, rather than the series of separate investigations which we have had to date. It is not too late for the grooming gangs inquiry to get back on track. But it needs to be focused, impartial and properly resourced.

The Conversation

Anne-Marie McAlinden has previously received funding from the ESRC, the AHRC, The British Academy, and the North South Research Programme

ref. Why the UK’s grooming gangs inquiry is in turmoil – and what needs to happen now – https://theconversation.com/why-the-uks-grooming-gangs-inquiry-is-in-turmoil-and-what-needs-to-happen-now-268708

Why people don’t demand data privacy – even as governments and corporations collect more personal information

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Rohan Grover, Assistant Professor of AI and Media, American University

People feeling that their data is being collected at every turn leaves many numb to the issue of data privacy. J Studios/DigitalVision via Getty Images

When the Trump administration gave Immigration and Customs Enforcement access to a massive database of information about Medicaid recipients in June 2025, privacy and medical justice advocates sounded the alarm. They warned that the move could trigger all kinds of public health and human rights harms.

But most people likely shrugged and moved on with their day. Why is that? It’s not that people don’t care. According to a 2023 Pew Research Center survey, 81% of American adults said they were concerned about how companies use their data, and 71% said they were concerned about how the government uses their data.

At the same time, though, 61% expressed skepticism that anything they do makes much difference. This is because people have come to expect that their data will be captured, shared and misused by state and corporate entities alike. For example, many people are now accustomed to instinctively hitting “accept” on terms of service agreements, privacy policies and cookie banners regardless of what the policies actually say.

At the same time, data breaches have become a regular occurrence, and private digital conversations exposing everything from infidelity to military attacks have become the stuff of public scrutiny. The cumulative effect is that people are loath to change their behaviors to better protect their data − not because they don’t care, but because they’ve been conditioned to think that they can’t make a difference.

As scholars of data, technology and culture, we find that when people are made to feel as if data collection and abuse are inevitable, they are more likely to accept it – even if it jeopardizes their safety or basic rights.

a computer screen displaying text and a button labelled 'submit'
How often do you give your consent to have your data collected?
Sean Gladwell/Moment via Getty Images

Where regulation falls short

Policy reforms could help to change this perception, but they haven’t yet. In contrast to a growing number of countries that have comprehensive data protection or privacy laws, the United States offers only a patchwork of policies covering the issue.

At the federal level, the most comprehensive data privacy laws are nearly 40 years old. The Privacy Act of 1974, passed in the wake of federal wiretapping in the Watergate and the Counterintelligence Program scandals, limited how federal agencies collected and shared data. At the time government surveillance was unexpected and unpopular.

But it also left open a number of exceptions – including for law enforcement – and did not affect private companies. These gaps mean that data collected by private companies can end up in the hands of the government, and there is no good regulation protecting people from this loophole.

The Electronic Communications Privacy Act of 1986 extended protections against telephone wire tapping to include electronic communications, which included services such as email. But the law did not account for the possibility that most digital data would one day be stored on cloud servers.

Since 2018, 19 U.S. states have passed data privacy laws that limit companies’ data collection activities and enshrine new privacy rights for individuals. However, many of these laws also include exceptions for law enforcement access.

These laws predominantly take a consent-based approach – think of the pesky banner beckoning you to “accept all cookies” – that encourages you to give up your personal information even when it’s not necessary. These laws put the onus on individuals to protect their privacy, rather than simply barring companies from collecting certain kinds of information from their customers.

The privacy paradox

For years, studies have shown that people claim to care about privacy but do not take steps to actively protect it. Researchers call this the privacy paradox. It shows up when people use products that track them in invasive ways, or when they consent to data collection, even when they could opt out. The privacy paradox often elicits appeals to transparency: If only people knew that they had a choice, or how the data would be used, or how the technology works, they would opt out.

But this logic downplays the fact that options for limiting data collection are often intentionally designed to be convoluted, confusing and inconvenient, and they can leave users feeling discouraged about making these choices, as communication scholars Nora Draper and Joseph Turow have shown. This suggests that the discrepancy between users’ opinions on data privacy and their actions is hardly a contradiction at all. When people are conditioned to feel helpless, nudging them into different decisions isn’t likely to be as effective as tackling what makes them feel helpless in the first place.

Resisting data disaffection

The experience of feeling helpless in the face of data collection is a condition we call data disaffection. Disaffection is not the same as apathy. It is not a lack of feeling but rather an unfeeling – an intentional numbness. People manifest this numbness to sustain themselves in the face of seemingly inevitable datafication, the process of turning human behavior into data by monitoring and measuring it.

It is similar to how people choose to avoid the news, disengage from politics or ignore the effects of climate change. They turn away because data collection makes them feel overwhelmed and anxious – not because they don’t care.

Taking data disaffection into consideration, digital privacy is a cultural issue – not an individual responsibility – and one that cannot be addressed with personal choice and consent. To be clear, comprehensive data privacy law and changing behavior are both important. But storytelling can also play a powerful role in shaping how people think and feel about the world around them.

We believe that a change in popular narratives about privacy could go a long way toward changing people’s behavior around their data. Talk of “the end of privacy” helps create the world the phrase describes. Philosopher of language J.L. Austin called those sorts of expressions performative utterances. This kind of language confirms that data collection, surveillance and abuse are inevitable so that people feel like they have no choice

Cultural institutions have a role to play here, too. Narratives reinforcing the idea of data collection as being inevitable come not only from tech companies’ PR machines but also mass media and entertainment, including journalists. The regular cadence of stories about the federal government accessing personal data, with no mention of recourse or justice, contributes to the sense of helplessness.

Alternatively, it’s possible to tell stories that highlight the alarming growth of digital surveillance and frame data governance practices as controversial and political rather than innocuous and technocratic. The way stories are told affects people’s capacity to act on the information that the stories convey. It shapes people’s expectations and demands of the world around them.

The ICE-Medicaid data-sharing agreement is hardly the last threat to data privacy. But the way people talk and feel about it can make it easier – or more difficult – to ignore data abuses the next time around.

The Conversation

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

ref. Why people don’t demand data privacy – even as governments and corporations collect more personal information – https://theconversation.com/why-people-dont-demand-data-privacy-even-as-governments-and-corporations-collect-more-personal-information-262197

An innovative tool coating could improve the way products — from aerospace to medical devices — are made

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Qianxi He, Faculty Lecturer, McGill University

Have you ever wondered how airplanes, cars, oil and gas pipelines or medical devices are made? It’s not just the materials they’re composed of that’s so important, but also the high-speed machining that shapes them. Improving those processes can improve the industries that use them and the products they make.

Aerospace, automotive, medical devices and oil and gas industries all require materials that resist corrosion and have low thermal conductivity, meaning they don’t transfer heat easily. That’s why materials like austenitic stainless steels, titanium alloys and Inconel super-alloys are crucial to these industries.

But the same properties that make these materials so useful also make them difficult to machine at high speeds, leading to rapid tool wear and shortening the lifespan of cutting tools. Machining refers to a manufacturing process where material is selectively removed from a work piece — typically a raw material in the form of a bar, sheet or block — using cutting tools to achieve the desired shape, dimensions and surface finish.

An innovation in tool coating could solve these machining challenges. The development of what’s known as a bi-layer AlTiN PVD coating enhances cutting-tool performance, improves wear resistance and extends the life of the tool life during ultra-high-speed machining of hard-to-machine materials.

This breakthrough won’t just benefit manufacturers. The development of advanced cutting tool coatings can significantly enhance tool performance under extreme machining conditions and improve the surface quality of the finished work piece. Let’s dive into what makes this discovery so important.

Why it matters

Traditionally, tools have been coated with an AlTiN layer — a hard ceramic coating composed of aluminum (Al), titanium (Ti), and nitrogen (N) — to enhance wear resistance during machining. The coating is applied as an extremely thin film (typically three to five micrometres) through a process called physical vapour deposition (PVD), in which the coating material is vapourized in a vacuum chamber and condensed onto the tool surface.

A single AlTiN layer can improve oxidation resistance and make tools more durable, but these coatings often struggle to balance the hardness, toughness and frictional properties required for demanding machining environments.

The bi-layer coating used in this study overcomes these limitations by optimizing the mechanical properties of each layer. This approach enables the coating to withstand the extreme heat and mechanical loads during the machining of stainless steel.

How does the bi-layer coating work?

A novel coating system was designed: a bi-layer consisting of two AlTiN layers with different ratios of aluminum and titanium. The bi-layer AlTiN coating stands out due to its unique combination of properties.

The top layer, with a higher ratio of aluminum to titanium, reduces friction and improves oxidation resistance. The sub-layer, with an equal ratio of aluminum to titanium, enhances hardness and provides better adhesion to the tungsten carbide substrate used in cutting tools. This combination enables the tool to withstand higher temperatures and mechanical stresses, resulting in longer tool life and more efficient machining.

This bi-layer coating was tested against single-layer coatings on tungsten carbide cutting tools under ultra-high-speed turning of austenitic stainless steel 304 (SS304) — a high-performance material commonly used in the automotive and aerospace industries. The bi-layer coating demonstrated remarkable results, increasing tool life by 33 per cent.

The improved wear resistance is due to the combination of the two layers. It reduced the type of wear caused by high temperatures — known as crater wear — as well as the type of wear caused by mechanical stress — known as flank wear. This balance of properties resulted in longer tool life during high-speed machining.

Better cutting conditions between tool and workpiece

One of the standout features of the bi-layer coating was its improvement in friction, wear and lubrication — three key properties studied in the science of tribology. During machining, these effects were evident in the way chips were formed. Chip formation — the process by which small pieces of material are removed from the whole workpiece by the cutting tool — serves as an important indicator of friction and cutting conditions at the tool–workpiece interface.

In this study, the bi-layer tool produced chips with a smoother surface and a more regular shape compared to the chips produced by single-layer tools.

The smoother chips indicate better frictional conditions, meaning that the cutting tool experienced less resistance as it machined the stainless steel. This reduced friction not only extended tool life but also contributed to a more efficient cutting process, as less energy was required to perform the machining.

The bi-layer coating’s ability to reduce friction was evident in the lower cutting forces recorded during tests. The bi-layer tool consistently showed lower forces, indicating it required less energy to cut through material. This efficiency could lead to energy savings in industrial settings where high-speed machining is frequently used, making the process more cost-effective and sustainable.

Evidence of superior wear resistance

The study used several advanced techniques to analyze the wear mechanisms affecting the tools, which showed how the bi-layer coating effectively reduced both crater and flank wear.

Crater wear occurs on the tool’s rake face — the surface of the cutting tool that comes into direct contact with the chip as it is formed — due to the intense heat generated in the cutting zone, while flank wear happens on the tool’s side, typically as a result of mechanical abrasion. The combination of properties in the bi-layer coating helped reduce both forms of wear. This allows the tool to last longer even under the harsh conditions of ultra-high-speed turning.

The impact of high-speed machining

The development of this bi-layer AlTiN coating represents a significant advancement in cutting tool technology. By enhancing wear resistance and reducing friction, the coating extends tool life and improves the efficiency of machining difficult materials like SS304. For industries that rely on high-speed, precision machining, this innovation could lead to cost savings, reduced downtime and greater productivity.

By enhancing wear resistance and reducing friction, the bi-layer AlTiN coating extends tool life and improves the efficiency of machining difficult materials like austenitic stainless steel 304 (SS304). SS304 is widely used in products that require high strength, corrosion resistance and a smooth surface finish — such as automotive exhaust systems, aerospace components, food-processing equipment and medical instruments. For industries that rely on high-speed, precision machining, this innovation could translate into significant cost savings, reduced downtime and greater productivity.

This research highlights the exciting possibilities of advanced coatings in machining and manufacturing technologies. Innovations like this demonstrate how materials science and mechanical engineering can drive progress across industries such as aerospace, automotive, energy, and medical device manufacturing — where precision, durability and efficiency are critical to performance.

The Conversation

Qianxi He 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. An innovative tool coating could improve the way products — from aerospace to medical devices — are made – https://theconversation.com/an-innovative-tool-coating-could-improve-the-way-products-from-aerospace-to-medical-devices-are-made-238186

Bad Bunny and Puerto Rican Muslims: How both remix what it means to be Boricua

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Ken Chitwood, Affiliate Researcher, Religion and Civic Culture Center, USC Dornsife College of Letters, Arts and Sciences; Bayreuth University

The Mezquita Al-Madinah in Hatillo, Puerto Rico, about an hour west of San Juan, is one of several mosques and Islamic centers on the island. Ken Chitwood

Bad Bunny, born Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio, is more than a global music phenomenon; he’s a bona fide symbol of Puerto Rico.

The church choir boy turned “King of Latin Trap” has songs, style and swagger that reflect the island’s mix of pride, pain and creative resilience. His music mixes reggaetón beats with the sounds of Puerto Rican history and everyday life, where devotion and defiance often live side by side.

Bad Bunny has been called one of Puerto Rico’s “loudest and proudest voices.” Songs like “El Apagón” – “The Blackout” – celebrate joy and protest together, honoring everyday acts of resistance to colonial rule and injustice in Puerto Rican life. Others, like “NUEVAYoL,” celebrate the sounds and vibrancy of its diaspora – especially in New York City. Some songs, like “RLNDT,” mention spiritual searching – featuring allusions to his own Catholic upbringing, sacred and secular divides, New Age astrology and Spiritism.

As a scholar of religion who recently wrote a book about Puerto Rican Muslims, I find echoes of that same strength and artistry in their stories. Although marginalized among Muslims, Puerto Ricans and other U.S. citizens, they find fresh ways to express their cultural heritage and practice their faith, creating new communities and connections along the way. Similar to Bad Bunny’s music, Puerto Rican Muslims’ lives challenge how we think about race, religion and belonging in the Americas.

A man in a white costume holds his hand up to his ear, looking off stage, as dancers in white outfits move behind him and beat drums.
Bad Bunny performs during his ‘No Me Quiero Ir De Aqui’ residency on July 11, 2025, in San Juan, Puerto Rico.
Kevin Mazur/Getty Images

Stories of struggle

There are no exact numbers, but before recent crises, Puerto Rico – an archipelago of 3.2. million people – had about 3,500 to 5,000 Muslims, many of them Palestinian. Economic hardship, natural disasters such as hurricanes Irma and Maria, and government neglect have since forced many to leave, however.

As of 2017, there were also an estimated 11,000 to 15,400 Puerto Rican Muslims among the nearly 6 million Puerto Ricans and nearly 4 million Muslims in the United States.

Like any Puerto Rican, these Muslims know the struggles of colonialism’s ongoing impact, from blackouts and economic inequality to racism. For example, in the viral 23-minute video for “El Apagón,” journalist Bianca Graulau outlines how tax incentives for external investors are displacing locals – a theme reinforced in Bad Bunny’s later song, “Lo Que Le Pasó a Hawaii.”

The video for “El Apagón” includes a short documentary about gentrification on the archipelago.

Converts to Islam also face unique challenges – and not just Islamophobia. Many are told they are “not real Puerto Ricans” because of their newfound faith. Some are treated as foreigners in their own families and friend groups, often asked whether they are abandoning their culture to “become Arab.”

To be a Puerto Rican Muslim, then, is to negotiate being and belonging at numerous intersections of diversity and difference.

Still, some connect their Muslim identity to moments in Puerto Rican history. In interviews, they told me how they identify with Muslims who came with Spanish conquistadors during colonial times. Others draw inspiration from enslaved Africans brought to the Caribbean. Many of them were Muslim and resisted their condition in ways large and small: fleeing to the forest to pray, for example, or living as “maroons” – people who escaped and formed their own communities.

Many ways to be Puerto Rican

Puerto Rican culture cannot be neatly mapped onto a single tradition. The archipelago’s religion, music and art blend together influences from Indigenous Taíno, African, Spanish and American cultures. Religious processions pass by cars blasting reggaetón. Shrines to Our Lady of Divine Providence stand beside U.S. chain restaurants and murals demanding independence.

Bad Bunny embodies this fusion. He is rebellious yet rooted, irreverent yet deeply Puerto Rican. His music blends contemporary sounds from reggaetón and Latin trap with traditional “bomba y plena.” It all adds up to something distinctly “Boricua,” a term for Puerto Ricans drawn from the Indigenous Taíno name for the island, “Borikén.”

A man walks past a wall with several different political murals painted on it.
A mural in San Juan, Puerto Rico, photographed in 2017, says, ‘We don’t understand this democracy.’
Mark Ralston/AFP via Getty Images

Puerto Rican Muslims wrestle with what it means to be authentically Boricua, though. In particular, their lives reveal how religion is both a boundary and a bridge: defining belonging while creating new ways to imagine it.

Since Spanish colonization in the 1500s, most Puerto Ricans have been Roman Catholic. But over the past two centuries, many other Christian groups have arrived, including Seventh-day Adventists, Lutherans and Pentecostals. Today, more than half of Puerto Ricans identify as Catholic and about one-third as Protestant.

Alongside these traditions, Afro-Caribbean traditions such as Santería, Espiritismo and Santerismo – a mix of the two – remain active. There are also small communities of Jews, Rastafari and Muslims.

Even with this diversity, converts to Islam are sometimes accused of betraying their culture. One young man told me that when he became Muslim, his mother said he had not only betrayed Christ but also “our culture.”

Yet Puerto Rican Muslims point to Arabic influences in Spanish words. They celebrate traces of Islamic design in colonial and revival architecture that reflects Muslims’ multicentury presence in Spain, from the 700s until the fall of the last Muslim kingdom in Granada in 1492. They also cook up halal versions of classic Puerto Rican dishes.

Like Bad Bunny, these converts remix what it means to be Puerto Rican, showing how Puerto Rico’s sense of identity – or “puertorriqueñidad” – is not exclusively Christian, but complex and constantly evolving.

A man in a feather headdress blows into a large shell, standing in front of a Puerto Rican flag.
A member of the Council in Defense of the Indigenous Rights of Boriken, dressed in Taino traditional clothing, sounds a conch during a march through San Juan, Puerto Rico, on July 11, 2020.
Ricardo Arduengo/AFP via Getty Images

In solidarity

Many Puerto Rican converts frame their faith as a counternarrative, rejecting the Christianity imposed by Spanish colonizers. They also resist Islamophobia, racism and foreign domination, with some converts drawn to the religion as a way to oppose these forces. Similar to Bad Bunny’s music, which often critiques colonialism and social constraints, they push back against systems that try to define who they can be.

To that end, Puerto Rican Muslims also build connections with other groups facing injustice. In reggaetón terms, they form their own “corillos” – groups of friends – united by shared struggles.

They demonstrate on behalf of Palestinians, seeing them as another colonized people without a nation. The first Latino Muslim organization, Alianza Islámica – founded by Puerto Rican converts in 1987 – emerged out of the era’s push for minorities’ rights around the New York City metro area. And after the 2016 Pulse Nightclub shooting, where about half of the 49 victims killed were Puerto Rican, and the mosque attended by the shooter was intentionally set on fire, Boricua Muslims joined with LGBTQ+, Muslim and Latino communities to grieve and demand justice.

A man in a red shirt, standing amid a crowd, holds a sign that says, in Spanish, 'Puerto Rico with Palestine.'
Pro-Palestine supporters attend a rally to end the war on Nov. 12, 2023, in San Juan, Puerto Rico.
Miguel J. Rodríguez Carrillo/VIEWpress via Getty Images

In these ways, Puerto Rican Muslims remind me that notions of community, identity or justice do not stand on their own. For many people, they are linked – parts of the same fight for dignity and freedom.

That is why, when I listen to songs like “NUEVAYoL” or “El Apagón,” I think of the Puerto Rican Muslims I know in places such as Puerto Rico, Florida, New Jersey, Texas and New York. Their stories, like Bad Bunny’s music, show how being Puerto Rican today means constantly negotiating who you are and where you belong. And that religion, like music, can carry the sound of struggle – but also the hope of one day overcoming the injustices and inequalities of everyday life.

The Conversation

Ken Chitwood received funding from the Fritz Thyssen Foundation, the Muslim Philanthropy Initiative, and the Spalding Trust to conduct research related to this article.

ref. Bad Bunny and Puerto Rican Muslims: How both remix what it means to be Boricua – https://theconversation.com/bad-bunny-and-puerto-rican-muslims-how-both-remix-what-it-means-to-be-boricua-267164

Cyclists may be right to run stop signs and red lights. Here’s why

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Steve Lorteau, Long-Term Appointment Law Professor, L’Université d’Ottawa/University of Ottawa

The Idaho stop does not allow cyclists to proceed through a red light if there are cars moving. (La Conversation Canada), CC BY

Interactions between different users on roads are often a source of frustration, the most prominent being those between motorists and cyclists.

For example, many motorists are frustrated when they see bicycles cross an intersection without coming to a complete stop, which drivers are required to do.

Many motorists consider this behaviour a sign of cyclists’ lack of discipline or even a double standard. In fact, cyclists don’t seem to run any real risk just slowing down at stop signs instead of making a complete stop.

By comparison, motorists risk a hefty fine for dangerous driving if they run a stop sign.

So should cyclists be required to follow the same traffic rules as motorists, or should we recognize that these rules do not always reflect the reality of cycling in a city?

As a professor of law at the University of Ottawa who specializes in urban law issues, I have studied various regulatory approaches that have been adopted around the world, each with different advantages and disadvantages.


This article is part of La Conversation’s series Our Cities: From yesterday to tomorrow. Urban life is going through many transformations, each with cultural, economic, social implications. To shed light on these diverse issues, La Conversation is inviting researchers to discuss the current state of our cities.


Strict equality between cyclists and drivers

In Québec, as in many other jurisdictions, traffic laws apply to all users, whether they are motorists or cyclists.

For example, all users must come to a complete stop at stop signs and red lights. If cyclists break these rules, they have the “same rights and duties as a driver of a vehicle,” in the words of the Supreme Court of Canada.

In other words, regardless of the differences between a car and a bicycle, the law treats them equally. Of course, this equality often remains theoretical, as the application of the rules can vary depending on context and behaviour.




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À Montréal, même en doublant les pistes cyclables, les voitures conserveraient 90 % de la chaussée


Deceptive equality

The uniform application of traffic rules may seem fair, but in reality, it can create a false sense of equality.

On the one hand, the risks associated with different modes of transport are incommensurate. A car that runs a red light can cause serious or even fatal injuries. A cyclist, on the other hand, is unlikely to cause the same degree of damage.

An election poster along a cycling path
The issue of bike paths is at the heart of the election campaign in Montréal.
(The Conversation Canada), CC BY

Furthermore, the efficiency of cycling depends on maintaining speed. Having to stop completely over and over discourages people from cycling, despite its many benefits for health, the environment and traffic flow.

Treating two such different modes of transport the same way, therefore, amounts to implicitly favouring cars, something akin to imposing the same speed limit on pedestrians and trucks.

The Idaho stop rule

Rather than treating bicycles and cars as equals, some jurisdictions have opted for a different approach. The state of Idaho is one good example.

Since 1982, cyclists in Idaho have been able to treat a stop sign as a yield sign and a red light as a stop sign. Several American states (such as Arkansas, Colorado, and Oregon) and countries, such as France and Belgium, have adopted similar regulations.

In Canada and Québec, discussions are underway to adopt such regulations.




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Moins de cyclistes… ou répartis autrement ? Le Réseau Express Vélo (REV) à l’épreuve des données


It’s important to note that the goal of the Idaho stop rule is not to legalize chaos on the roads. Cyclists must still yield to cars ahead of them at stop signs, as well as to pedestrians at all times, and may only enter the intersection when it is clear.

The Idaho stop has three main advantages.

First, the rule recognizes that the dynamics of cycling are fundamentally different than those of driving, and therefore cannot be treated equally.

Second, the Idaho stop rule takes the burden of issuing fines off the courts and police.

Third, the efficiency of cycling depends on maintaining momentum. Coming to a complete stop over and over again discourages cycling, despite its many benefits for health, the environment and traffic flow.

The effects of the reform

Faced with these two very different approaches for bicycles, one may wonder which is the most appropriate.

Several empirical studies show that adopting the Idaho stop rule does not lead to an increase in road collisions.

Some studies even suggest a modest decrease in collisions with the Idaho stop regulation. This is because cyclists clear intersections more quickly, reducing their exposure to cars. In addition, motorists become more attentive to cyclists’ movements.

In fact, the majority of road users, both motorists and cyclists, often do not strictly obey stop signs. According to a study conducted by the Société de l’assurance automobile du Québec (SAAQ), only 35 per cent of motorists stop correctly. Also according to the SAAQ, only 27 per cent of cyclists report coming to a complete stop at mandatory stop signs.

In short, adopting the Idaho stop rule would not create chaos, but would regulate an already common practice without compromising public safety, contrary to some concerns. Cyclists who rarely come to a complete stop when there is no traffic generally slow down before crossing because they are aware of their vulnerability.

A cultural shift

Furthermore, the question of introducing the Idaho stop rule in Québec invites broader reflection.

For decades, our laws and road infrastructure have been designed primarily for cars. Many motorists still consider cyclists to be dangerous and engage in reckless behaviour.




À lire aussi :
À Montréal, même en doublant les pistes cyclables, les voitures conserveraient 90 % de la chaussée


However, it’s important to remember that cars are the main structural hazard on our roads and that cyclists are in fact vulnerable. This structural danger has increased with the growth of sports utility vehicles (SUVs) and pick-up trucks, which increases the risks for pedestrians and cyclists.

Adopting the Idaho stop rule would not give cyclists a free pass, but it would recognize their realities and legitimize cycling as a mode of transport, with traffic regulations adapted to its risks and benefits. This modest but symbolic reform could be part of a broader set of changes that would offer citizens true freedom and safety when travelling.

La Conversation Canada

Steve Lorteau has received funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council, the Canadian Bar Association, and the Canadian Institutes of Health Research.

ref. Cyclists may be right to run stop signs and red lights. Here’s why – https://theconversation.com/cyclists-may-be-right-to-run-stop-signs-and-red-lights-heres-why-268724

After 2 years of devastating war, will Arab countries now turn their backs on Israel?

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Michelle Burgis-Kasthala, Professor of International Law, La Trobe University

The Middle East has long been riddled by instability. This makes getting a sense of the broader, long-term trends in the aftermath of the Gaza war particularly challenging.

The significance of Trump’s 20-point peace deal that has (hopefully) brought an end to the Gaza war cannot be overstated.

However, this deal – and what comes next – will not change the Middle East. Rather, the wars of the past two years merely consolidated trends that were already under way. They didn’t serve as a radical break from the past.

The impact of October 7 on the region

Before October 2023, Israel’s place in the region seemed to be improving, despite the formidable “axis of resistance” Iran and its allies had built to counter it.

On top of its earlier peace agreements with Egypt in 1979 and Jordan in 1994, Israel had normalised relations with the United Arab Emirates (UAE), Bahrain, Morocco and Sudan under the Abraham Accords. It looked set to normalise relations with Saudi Arabia, too.

However, once Iran and Saudi Arabia reached a detente in their long-simmering rivalry in March 2023, the urgency of closer ties with Israel faded.

Then came October 7. One of Hamas’ apparent aims in launching the attack was to refocus the region’s attention on Palestinian liberation.

At the beginning, it looked like Hamas had partially succeeded. Among Arab states, only the UAE and Bahrain condemned the attack.

The remainder of the region either chose to join the fight against Israel (Iran, the Houthis in Yemen, Hezbollah in Lebanon) or maintain a duplicitous dance in between – not making the US angry by speaking out too forcefully against Israel, while placating (or repressing) their angry pro-Palestinian citizens at home.

Two years later, the “resistance” camp led by Iran and its proxies has been significantly weakened – an undeniable victory for Israel.

And while Arab popular opinion still largely supports armed Palestinian resistance to Israel, regional leaders do not. In a significant step in August, the Arab League officially condemned Hamas’ October 7 attacks and called for its disarmament.

Why Arab states are now backing Trump’s plan

Historically, even when the Palestinians have seemed at their weakest, they have had an outsize effect on the stability and legitimacy of Arab regimes in the Middle East.

A case in point is the wave of coups in the region that followed the Nakba in 1948, when around 750,000 Palestinians were either expelled or forced to flee during the war that created the state of Israel.

Today’s peace deal is no different. Israel’s neighbours are backing Trump’s 20-point plan because they have learned from history – rather than out of any sense of moral obligation.

For these states, the plan is not perfect. In fact, it makes a mockery of more robust peace proposals from the past, such as the 2002 Saudi-led Arab Peace Initiative to end the Palestinian-Israeli conflict.

Though Trump’s plan recognises the continued Palestinian presence in Gaza, it denies them political agency or accountability for alleged Israeli crimes. The plan only pays lip-service to the idea of a two-state solution. And given the facts on the ground and the prevailing political sensibilities in the US and Israel, Palestinian statehood seems highly unlikely.

Yet, regional states are aware that ongoing conflict is in no one’s interests, save for the Israeli far right.

Trump’s plan therefore represents a fig leaf for a region desperate to be seen to be ameliorating Palestinian suffering, while ensuring more robust US support. Such a concern became existential for the Gulf countries in the wake of Israel’s attacks on Hamas’ leadership in Qatar in September.

What comes next?

If the ceasefire holds and the peace plan proceeds, Trump sees an expanded Abraham Accords in the future, with other states lining up to normalise diplomatic relations with Israel (including possibly Saudi Arabia).

But other deals may get under way first. Israel and the United States are moving ahead with a series of initiatives. These include the India-Middle-East-Europe Economic Corridor (IMEC) (a rail-sea link to transport goods between India, the UAE, Saudi Arabia, Israel and Europe), and the Abraham shield plan (a proposed security and infrastructure partnership between the Gulf countries, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Jordan and Israel).

Currently, it is unclear which land routes will be preferred for linking India and China with Europe. The Gulf states are prioritising Israel, while Turkey is positioning itself as an alternative northern route that extends China’s Belt and Road rail and road projects through Central Asia.

As the US has strengthened its military ties with Qatar, the UAE, Bahrain and Saudi Arabia, this will probably tilt the balance in favour of Israel and the Gulf countries, in spite of Turkey’s regional importance and NATO membership.

Given the huge public and private sums and geostrategic stakes involved, this is really where the region’s focus lies now.

So, even if the ceasefire falters and popular anger around the region intensifies, most Arab leaders will continue to expand and embrace Israeli cooperation.

The Conversation

Michelle Burgis-Kasthala has received funding from the Australian Research Council.

ref. After 2 years of devastating war, will Arab countries now turn their backs on Israel? – https://theconversation.com/after-2-years-of-devastating-war-will-arab-countries-now-turn-their-backs-on-israel-267869