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October 26, 2025

Comment Telegram est devenue le champ de bataille des conflits modernes

Source: The Conversation – France in French (3) – By Marie Guermeur, Sorbonne Université

Née comme une messagerie destinée à protéger au mieux la vie privée de ses utilisateurs, Telegram est devenue un théâtre d’affrontement permanent. Sur l’application, de multiples canaux diffusent l’horreur brute, la criminalité organisée prospère, les services secrets recrutent et, surtout, la propagande bat son plein. Décryptage du fonctionnement de cet outil qui s’est transformé en véritable arme de guerre numérique.

Longtemps perçue comme une alternative sécurisée aux réseaux sociaux de la galaxie Meta notamment par une frange d’internautes soucieux de la protection de leur vie privée et par les défenseurs des libertés numériques, séduits par son image « anti-système » et sa promesse d’un espace affranchi de la surveillance commerciale, Telegram, fondée en 2013 par les frères Durov, s’est imposée comme l’une des plateformes les plus influentes de la planète.

Pavel Durov, en est à sa seconde aventure numérique. Avant Telegram, il avait lancé VKontakte (VK), souvent qualifié de « Facebook russe ». Dès sa création en 2006, VK s’était distinguée comme un rare bastion de liberté sur le Web russe, jusqu’à ce que Durov refuse de livrer aux services secrets de son pays (le FSB) les données des blogueurs et de fermer les pages de l’opposition. Ce refus lui coûta progressivement le contrôle de l’entreprise, reprise ensuite par des proches du pouvoir. Aujourd’hui, Telegram, forte de près de 950 millions d’utilisateurs dans le monde, séduit par son chiffrement, sa promesse de confidentialité et la possibilité de créer des « canaux » rassemblant des centaines de milliers de personnes.

Mais derrière l’image de havre numérique pour défenseurs de la vie privée, Telegram est devenue un outil central pour des usages beaucoup plus sombres : trafic, voyeurisme et surtout… guerres de propagande.

Arrestation et mise en examen de Pavel Durov

Le 24 août 2024, le cofondateur de Telegram Pavel Durov, franco-russe, est arrêté et mis en examen en France. La justice lui reproche de ne pas avoir empêché la prolifération sur son réseau d’activités illégales : trafic de stupéfiants, pédocriminalité, escroqueries.

Mis en examen, Durov s’est défendu en soulignant le caractère inédit d’une telle procédure : « Arrêter le PDG d’une plateforme parce que certains utilisateurs commettent des crimes, c’était absurde », déclare-t-il alors. Depuis cette date, Telegram collabore davantage avec les autorités, selon plusieurs sources judiciaires. Mais la question reste entière : comment contrôler un espace aussi vaste et opaque ?

En Chine, une enquête de CNN a récemment révélé l’existence d’un gigantesque réseau de voyeurisme pornographique hébergé sur Telegram. Plus de 100 000 membres y échangeaient, à l’insu de leurs victimes, des milliards de photos et vidéos intimes et récits d’agression. L’affaire a choqué l’opinion publique et souligné l’extrême difficulté à contenir les dérives de l’application.

Car Telegram est un écosystème : tout y circule, de la contrebande de drogues aux fichiers frauduleux, en passant par des contenus extrêmes de propagande. Si le darknet exigeait autrefois des compétences techniques pour accéder à ces contenus, l’application rend aujourd’hui de tels échanges disponibles en quelques clics.

Du chiffrement à la cruauté

C’est sans doute sur le terrain de la guerre que Telegram s’impose le plus brutalement. Lors des attaques terroristes du Hamas contre Israël en octobre 2023, l’application est devenue un champ de bataille parallèle. Les groupes armés ont immédiatement compris le potentiel de l’outil : diffuser sans filtre des vidéos de violences, de tortures, de profanations de cadavres, accompagnées de messages galvanisant.

Le même jour, nous avons décidé d’infiltrer le canal du Hamas depuis la France. La facilité avec laquelle nous avons pu accéder à des contenus insoutenables a été glaçante : viols, exécutions, actes nécrophiles, corps – souvent d’enfants – mutilés et exhibés comme trophées de victoire. Chaque jour, des dizaines de vidéos de propagande inondaient les canaux, repoussant sans cesse les limites de l’indicible.

Le lendemain, les canaux liés à l’armée israélienne, Tsahal, adoptaient la même logique : images de massacres et de représailles, accompagnées de messages de haine et d’encouragement à la vengeance. La guerre des armes trouvait son double, instantané et cru, sur Telegram.

Les horreurs observées sont telles que nous avons choisi de ne pas toutes les relater ici. Mais il est essentiel que le lecteur comprenne l’ampleur de cette banalisation de la violence : sur cette plateforme, la cruauté devient quotidienne, accessible à tous et, souvent, reproduite à l’infini.

« Ce canal enfreint la législation locale »

En France, il a fallu attendre le 17 octobre 2023 pour qu’un blocage partiel du compte du Hamas soit mis en place, peu après la diffusion d’une vidéo montrant un otage. Dès lors, une tentative de connexion au canal faisait apparaître : « Ce canal enfreint la législation locale. » Trop tard pour éviter la propagation de scènes inimaginables, parfois accessibles à des mineurs, et pour certaines reprises sur des réseaux comme X. Car l’utilisation de VPN permet encore de contourner ces restrictions, laissant circuler sans entrave les pires images de guerre.

Cette banalisation de la violence interroge. En rendant la propagande accessible au grand public, Telegram transforme le spectateur en témoin, parfois complice, d’atrocités qui étaient jadis reléguées aux marges cachées d’Internet, à ce que l’on appelait le « darknet ». Les groupes armés, eux, ont compris l’impact psychologique de cette exposition massive. La guerre ne se joue plus seulement sur le terrain militaire ; elle s’écrit et se diffuse en direct, dans la poche de chacun.

Telegram, par sa souplesse et par son opacité, est devenue l’arme invisible des conflits contemporains.

De l’outil de contestation à l’arme de propagande

Bien avant d’être l’outil favori des groupes armés au Moyen-Orient, Telegram avait déjà marqué l’histoire des contestations. Du Printemps arabe aux manifestations iraniennes « Femme, vie, liberté » de 2022 après la mort de Mahsa Amini, l’application s’est imposée comme un refuge numérique pour les dissidents, pour les journalistes citoyens et pour les organisateurs de mobilisations. Son atout majeur : un chiffrement et une architecture décentralisée qui échappent aux régulations traditionnelles.

De 2015 à 2019, Telegram se dressait comme un outil central de mobilisation citoyenne en Iran. Néanmoins, en 2018, les autorités iraniennes ont procédé à l’interdiction de la plateforme, sous prétexte de préserver la sécurité nationale, anéantissant l’un des derniers canaux d’expression et de coordination accessibles à la société civile.

En Biélorussie, puis ailleurs en Europe de l’Est, les manifestants se sont organisés sur l’application, tandis que les États tentaient de reprendre la main sur ce canal incontrôlable. L’histoire de Telegram dans les révoltes est celle d’un couteau à double tranchant : un outil de contre-pouvoir, mais aussi une scène où s’exerce la lutte pour le contrôle de l’information.

Lorsque Israël a coupé l’accès à Internet dans la bande de Gaza, le 27 octobre 2023, Telegram est restée la seule fenêtre sur le monde. Les journalistes palestiniens, comme Motaz Azaiza, y ont diffusé en direct des images de frappes, de victimes et de quartiers dévastés, vues par des millions de personnes en quelques minutes. L’application suppléait ainsi les médias traditionnels, empêtrés dans la vérification des faits et les contraintes d’accès.

Sur ce même réseau circulaient aussi les vidéos officielles des Brigades Al-Qassam, la branche armée du Hamas, glorifiant leurs combattants et diffusant des images insoutenables. De leur côté, les chaînes proches de l’armée israélienne diffusaient leurs propres contenus militaires, souvent teintés de propagande. Telegram s’est transformé en un champ de bataille à part entière, où journalisme citoyen, propagande terroriste, communication officielle et rumeurs incontrôlées cohabitaient sur le même écran.

Une plateforme qui refuse de trancher

Contrairement à X (ex-Twitter) ou à Facebook, Telegram se distingue par l’absence de modération coercitive. Son cofondateur Pavel Durov revendique une conception radicale de la liberté d’expression, n’hésitant pas à héberger des groupes proscrits ailleurs. Cette latitude a bénéficié à des organisations, telles que Hayat Tahrir Al-Cham, ex-filiale d’Al-Qaida en Syrie, qui exerce désormais un contrôle politique et administratif étendu sur plusieurs régions du pays, où elle s’impose comme l’autorité de facto, tout en continuant à y diffuser sans entrave communiqués, vidéos et matériaux idéologiques.

Dans des zones auxquelles aucun journaliste étranger n’a accès et où les reporters locaux risquent leur vie, ces chaînes deviennent la seule source d’information disponible. Mais ce sont les groupes armés eux-mêmes qui décident de ce qui est montré, et de ce qui est passé sous silence.

L’exemple de la Syrie est frappant. En 2022, lors des pénuries de gaz, les chaînes prorégime imputaient la crise aux sanctions occidentales. En parallèle, celles de l’opposition diffusaient des vidéos de files interminables dans les stations-service, accusant l’Iran de sabotage. Aucune des deux versions n’a pu être vérifiée par des médias indépendants, mais toutes deux ont circulé massivement et nourri la colère populaire.

L’étude, publiée en 2024 par Hans W. A. Hanley et Zakir Durumeric lors de l’International Conference on Web and Social Media (ICWSM), intitulée Partial Mobilization : Tracking Multilingual Information Flows amongst Russian Media Outlets and Telegram montre l’usage systématique de Telegram par les médias russes pour orienter et modeler l’opinion publique autour de la guerre en Ukraine. Les auteurs développent une approche originale et extensible, capable de suivre les flux narratifs à travers différentes langues et plateformes, appliquée à 215 000 articles et 2,48 millions de messages Telegram. Les chercheurs soulignent une intensification marquée de l’usage de Telegram par les médias russes, qui y puisent régulièrement des thèmes qu’ils réinjectent ensuite dans leurs publications traditionnelles.

Leur méthodologie permet également d’identifier de manière automatisée des chaînes Telegram véhiculant des contenus pro-russes ou anti-ukrainiens, souvent en résonance avec les narrations des médias d’État. Telegram se révèle ainsi un vecteur stratégique clé, central dans la diffusion et la coordination de ces narratives (récits) à grande échelle.

Telegram, média ou machine d’influence ?

À cette dimension géopolitique s’ajoute une logique économique. Dans plusieurs pays en crise, comme le Liban, des équipes rédactionnelles de médias exclusivement installés sur Telegram se sont constituées. Certaines chaînes vendent des abonnements premium, d’autres acceptent des dons en cryptomonnaies, et beaucoup diffusent des contenus sponsorisés par des partis politiques. Sans transparence ni vérification, la frontière entre information et propagande devient poreuse.

Le danger n’est pas seulement la désinformation. C’est qu’à défaut d’alternatives, Telegram devienne la seule source d’information dans des environnements fragiles. Là où les civils n’ont pas de médias indépendants, et tandis que les milices et les États disposent de puissants relais, l’équilibre est faussé dès le départ.

Depuis le début de l’invasion russe, en février 2022, la direction générale du renseignement de l’Ukraine (DGRR, souvent désignée par son acronyme anglais HUR) a adopté une posture inédite : utiliser Telegram comme un relais officiel. Selon une étude publiée en août 2025 par le chercheur Peter Schrijver dans la revue scientifique The International Journal of Intelligence and CounterIntelligence, il s’agit d’un tournant majeur. Pour la première fois, un service de renseignement d’État conçoit sa communication non plus comme une sensibilisation ponctuelle, mais comme un processus continu d’engagement public.

Un instrument de renseignement public

Ce choix illustre ce que les spécialistes appellent la « communication participative du renseignement ». Sur Telegram, la DGRR ne se contente pas de diffuser des informations : elle coordonne le récit national tout en impliquant directement la population dans la défense du pays. Trois axes structurent cette stratégie. D’abord, l’institution met en avant ses opérations réussies, honore ses agents tombés et valorise ses valeurs de service et de sacrifice. La stratégie consiste à projeter l’image d’un renseignement compétent, héroïque et digne de confiance. Les chercheurs parlent d’un véritable « lobby du renseignement », une diplomatie de l’image destinée à rallier les civils autour d’un appareil habituellement secret.

Ensuite, la DGRR diffuse des documents ciblés visant l’adversaire : conversations interceptées, preuves de crimes de guerre, affaires de corruption, et parfois des données personnelles de militaires russes. Ces publications ont une double fonction : tactique, en fragilisant le moral et la crédibilité des troupes ennemies ; symbolique, en renforçant la légitimité morale de l’Ukraine sur la scène internationale.

Enfin, l’agence implique directement les citoyens. Les canaux Telegram incitent à signaler les mouvements ennemis, proposent un « Main Intelligence Bot » pour centraliser les informations et diffusent des conseils pratiques, notamment de cybersécurité pour les habitants des zones occupées. Dans ce modèle, le citoyen cesse d’être simple spectateur : il devient un acteur distribué de la défense nationale.

Telegram, né comme un refuge pour les défenseurs de la vie privée, est aujourd’hui devenu une scène mondiale où se mêlent contestation, propagande et espionnage. Mais derrière l’écran, c’est une autre guerre qui se joue : celle des récits, des images, sans filtre et sans règles. En rendant l’horreur accessible en un clic, l’application brouille les frontières entre information et manipulation. Dans les conflits du début de notre siècle, ce ne sont plus seulement les bombes qui frappent les populations… ce sont aussi les notifications.

Marie Guermeur ne travaille pas, ne conseille pas, ne possède pas de parts, ne reçoit pas de fonds d’une organisation qui pourrait tirer profit de cet article, et n’a déclaré aucune autre affiliation que son organisme de recherche.

– ref. Comment Telegram est devenue le champ de bataille des conflits modernes – https://theconversation.com/comment-telegram-est-devenue-le-champ-de-bataille-des-conflits-modernes-267339

October 26, 2025

The conflation problem: Why anti-Zionism and anti-semitism are not the same

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Mira Sucharov, Professor of Political Science, Carleton University

With antisemitism on the rise while Israeli-Palestinian relations remain at an historic low, one question that continues to dog public discourse is whether anti-Zionism is a form of antisemitism.

The stakes within the Jewish community have recently increased, with the issuing of a letter signed by more than 850 American rabbis and cantors opposing New York City mayoral frontrunner Zohran Mamdani due to his opposition to Zionism. The letter argues that anti-Zionism “encourage[s] and exacerbate[s] hostility toward Judaism and Jews.”

Why does the distinction matter?

If anti-Zionism is understood to be antisemitism, then those protesting or otherwise articulating deep opposition to the governing ideology of the state of Israel could find themselves on the receiving end of public opprobrium — harsh criticism and disgrace.

A global debate with deep roots

People in Canada and the United States have lost employment offers and jobs for seeming anti-Zionist.

This debate is not new, however. In 2022, Jonathan Greenblatt, head of the Anti-Defamation League, stated that “anti-Zionism is antisemitism” and that anti-Zionism is “an ideology rooted in rage.” A year later, the U.S. House of Representatives passed a resolution stating that “anti-Zionism is antisemitism.”

In 2017, French President Emmanuel Macron called anti-Zionism a “reinvented form of antisemitism.” And perhaps most importantly, against this backdrop is the definition of antisemitism adopted by many countries, including the U.S. and Canada, which brings the two concepts very close together, if not outright equating them.

Specifically, the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance defines antisemitism, among other things, as “denying the Jewish people their right to self-determination (e.g., by claiming that the existence of a State of Israel is a racist endeavour).”

What data reveals about Zionism

But is anti-Zionism really antisemitism?

To determine whether anti-Zionism is antisemitic, we first need to think about how we define Zionism. As a Canadian Jewish political scientist, my own research has found that the term Zionism is understood in wildly different ways.

In 2022, I surveyed American Jews with a weighted sample to account for various demographics. I found that while 58 per cent identified as Zionist, 70 per cent identified as such when I defined Zionism as “a feeling of attachment to Israel.” When I defined Zionism as a “belief in a Jewish and democratic state,” the number rose slightly, to 72 per cent.

But a very different picture emerged when I presented a vastly alternate definition of Zionism. If Zionism, I offered, “means the belief in privileging Jewish rights over non-Jewish rights in Israel, are you a Zionist?” Here, respondents’ support for the kind of Zionism experienced by Palestinians plummeted: only 10 per cent of respondents said they were “definitely” (three per cent) or “probably” (seven per cent) Zionist, according to this definition, with a full 69 per cent saying they were “probably not” or “definitely not.”

A lifetime of analysis of Zionism, and adopting various labels at different phases of life for myself — I have at times identified as progressive Zionist, liberal Zionist, anti-Zionist, non-Zionist and none of the above — leads me to conclude that anti-Zionism and antisemitism should be considered distinct concepts.

Identity, nationalism and belonging

Those who see anti-Zionism as antisemitic deploy various arguments.

One is that self-determination is a right, and denying that right to Jews — and sometimes seemingly only to Jews — is discriminatory and prejudicial. But while everyone has the right to self-determination, no one has the right to determine themselves by denying the rights of others to do the same.

Another is that given that the majority of Jews by most accounts embrace some form of Zionism, denying a part of their identity is hateful. But unlike most other markers and symbols of ethnic or religious identity, Zionism has historically, and continues to, directly affect another ethnic group: namely, Palestinians.

Contrast this kind of identity with dietary laws, clothing restrictions, modes of prayer and one’s relationship to sacred texts: none of these aspects of identity necessarily affect another group. By contrast, the historical record of how Zionism has affected Palestinians is vast.

A third argument concerns antisemitism in general — that every other group gets to define the terminology around their own oppression, and therefore so should Jews. But again, when a state — which by definition interacts with others within and outside its borders — is brought into the equation, the debate about antisemitism ceases to be about only Jews.

At its core, Zionism is a political ideology. A cornerstone of liberal society is political debate, including subjecting ideologies to the stress test of critique. These ideologies include capitalism, socialism, social democracy, communism, ethno-nationalism, settler colonialism, theocracy, Islamism, Hindu nationalism and so on.

In the right of others to support, oppose, analyze or criticize it, Zionism is — or at least should be — be no different.

The personal and the political

I understand why many Jews feel that anti-Zionist actions or statements are hateful to their identity. Most Jews have grown up believing that to be Jewish is to feel a deep connection to the state of Israel.

I grew up singing Hatikvah, Israel’s national anthem, every evening at Hebrew summer camp in Manitoba as we lowered the two flags hanging from the flagpole: one the flag of Canada, the other, of course, of Israel.

And in many synagogues across Canada, it is typical to hear the Prayer for Israel recited, and it is not uncommon for the Israeli flag to be displayed prominently. At one synagogue I attended last year for a family celebration, there were even depictions of Israel Defense Forces soldiers etched into the stained-glass windows above the sanctuary.

But to feel connected to Israel — the land, the people, the safe refuge it has served for Jews in crisis, especially but not only after the Holocaust — one doesn’t necessarily need to embrace its governing ideology.

One can seek to understand the harm Zionism has caused to Palestinians. One can try to consider alternative framings, ideologies or governing structures that would enable Israelis to thrive along with Palestinians.

As Zionist founder Theodor Herzl famously said, “If you will it, it is no dream.”

Mira Sucharov has received funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council. She is on the Advisory Council of New Israel Fund-Canada, sits on the task force of the Nexus Project, and is a founding signatory of the Jerusalem Declaration on Antisemitism.

– ref. The conflation problem: Why anti-Zionism and anti-semitism are not the same – https://theconversation.com/the-conflation-problem-why-anti-zionism-and-anti-semitism-are-not-the-same-267676

October 26, 2025

Struggling with closure? Here are some things you can try

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Chantal M. Boucher, Assistant Professor, Clinical Psychologist, University of Windsor

We all want closure. A breakup, a sudden job loss, or the death of someone we love can leave us desperate for answers. Wars, natural disasters and shared tragedies stir the same kind of longing.

Our need for closure runs so deep, it’s echoed everywhere — in movies, novels, songs about heartbreak and loss, even in everyday phrases like “moving on” or “getting over” something.

However, closure is easier said than done. Sometimes it never fully arrives. When it doesn’t, unfinished business can weigh on us, affecting our mood, our health, our identity and our relationships. In a world of growing uncertainties, learning how to cope with what’s “open” or unresolved is essential.

As a psychologist, I am interested in studying why closure matters, why it’s hard to find and how we can begin to heal when life fails to provide clear answers.

What is closure, and why does it matter?

Closure is the psychological sense of resolution felt when a painful or confusing experience is settled enough that it no longer demands constant mental and emotional energy.

It’s a sense that an event is understood, settled and no longer bothersome. Without it, old memories intrude like uninvited guests, resurfacing with regret, anger or confusion, even years later.

Trauma research shows unresolved memories can feel as though they’re happening right now until they’re reframed as part of the distant past. Everyday hurts work the same way.

Resolution frees the mind to focus on what matters now — our goals, our emotional needs and the people around us — with calm and clarity. This is why so many turn to therapy, self-help resources and other tools to make sense of, find peace with or otherwise close open parts of their lives.

Measuring closure: A step forward

Despite its popularity and adaptive value, closure has been hard to study because it has been hard to measure. A new tool colleagues and I have developed, the Closure and Resolution Scale, is changing that.

This self-report measure captures multiple facets of resolution — finality, understanding, distance, emotional relief, mental release, even behavioural shifts — offering a comprehensive picture of what closure looks and feels like for people.

Clinicians and researchers can use the CRS to track progress, test interventions and identify what helps or hinders resolution.

Our preliminary work, aided by research assistant, Meaghan Tome, suggests that beliefs about finding closure are as rich and nuanced as the construct itself.

Some see it as self-driven, others as dependent on someone else. Some treat it as active problem-solving, others as quiet acceptance. Some lean on internal change, others on external action. These personal theories shape how we seek — or avoid — closure in our own lives.

Why we struggle to find closure

Why does closure often feel out of reach? Research suggests several reasons.

Ambiguity: When stories feel unfinished, like when we’re ghosted, the mind scrambles to fill in the blanks. We crave coherent explanations, but life doesn’t always provide them.

Avoidance: Pain hurts. Memories can spark guilt, shame, fear or grief, and our natural inclination is to push these feelings away. Avoidance offers short-term relief but delays real healing. What we resist persists.

Barriers: Open memories are often interpersonal. People who lack closure may feel like they need an apology, explanation or conversation that never comes. Limited time, money or unsupportive environments can make getting closure feel impossible.

Working toward closure

If you or someone in your life is struggling with closure, here are a few things you can try:

Talk it through. Therapy can help name the experience, examine thoughts, manage emotions and identify steps toward resolution.

Write it out. Expressive writing and journaling can ease intrusive memories and facilitate new meaning. Try writing an unsent letter when direct dialogue isn’t possible.

Shift perspective. Reframe the story from an outside view or focus on the broader significance to gain clarity and distance.

Lean on others. Friends, peers or people who’ve “been there” can offer comfort and validation.

Rethink closure. Some endings remain unresolved. For ambiguous losses, rituals, meaning-making and flexibility can help to live with uncertainty.

Act on values. When change is possible, take purposeful steps that align with your values — have the conversation, set boundaries, leave harmful situations. When it isn’t, let go, treat it as a lesson rather than a weight and redirect your energy.

Beware the closure trap

Not every experience is “closable” in the way we might hope. Some losses are ambiguous. Some events remain unclear. And rigid ideas about what closure should look like can keep us stuck.

A healthier aim is to make space for what can’t be answered, create meaning where we can and live our values alongside the unknown — freeing attention and energy, with acceptance and compassion, for what matters now.

Closure isn’t always possible, but new meaning and movement forward always are.

Looking ahead

Closure isn’t about forgetting the past. It’s about learning to live with it, answers or no answers. What we know so far is that closure is deeply personal, impacting our health, our relationships and our views of ourselves and others.

While therapy, writing, social support or values-guided actions can help, the path to resolution is rarely one-size-fits-all. Tools like the Closure and Resolution Scale can help us to better understand the idiosyncrasies of this journey.

In the end, what often hurts most is not an event itself, but the silence and questions it leaves behind. The good news? Closure doesn’t have to be given by others. It can be chosen.

Sometimes the most powerful ending is the one we write ourselves.

Chantal M. Boucher 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. Struggling with closure? Here are some things you can try – https://theconversation.com/struggling-with-closure-here-are-some-things-you-can-try-264856

October 26, 2025

The fate of Marineland’s belugas expose the ethical cracks in Canadian animal law

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Maneesha Deckha, Professor and Lansdowne Chair in law, University of Victoria

Most people think countries like Canada have strong animal protection laws, but it doesn’t. A case in point is the unfolding tragedy-in-the-making at Marineland.

Facing economic ruin amid waning public acceptance of whale captivity, Marineland has threatened it will euthanize its remaining 30 beluga whales unless the government provides emergency funding for their care.

This ultimatum follows the federal government’s recent denial of Marineland’s request for an export permit to ship the belugas to a large theme park in China. Fisheries Minister Joanne Thompson denied the permit due to concerns that the belugas would be used for entertainment — a fate now illegal in Canada since the 2019 ban on capturing cetaceans for display.

The 2019 federal legislation banned bringing new cetaceans into captivity, subject to a few exceptions. Ontario passed a similar law in 2015. However, the cetaceans who were already in captivity were not included, effectively preserving Marineland’s property rights over its remaining animals.

But with changing public attitudes, Marineland now has a deteriorating facility and expensive care on its hands for animals it can no longer use to turn a profit.

The threat to kill the belugas as a solution to its economic woes, while shocking, reflects the ethical emptiness of the Canadian legal system when it comes to animals. Simply put, Canadian law still allows human and corporate owners to kill their animals because animals are legally treated as “property.”

The weakness of Canada’s animal cruelty laws

Marineland can carry out its “euthanasia” so long as it doesn’t run afoul of tepid anti-cruelty laws, which are poorly enforced, as demonstrated by Marineland’s history.

Animal advocates have long argued that captive and socially deprived animals at Marineland have suffered for decades. A 2012 Toronto Star investigation series brought overdue and much-needed public and prosecutorial attention to the park, resulting in more than 200 visits by provincial inspectors since 2000.

Even so, since 2019, 20 whales have died in Marineland’s care. The park has only been charged with animal cruelty a handful of times, and all of those charges were eventually dropped. Other complaints to Animal Welfare Services, the provincial body responsible for the enforcement of anti-cruelty legislation, have largely gone nowhere.

In fact, anti-cruelty charges against Marineland have only gone ahead twice: once in 2021 regarding water quality for the cetaceans and once in relation to its care of black bears in 2024.

The dearth of legal sanctions for Marineland, and its ability to hold the lives of its belugas as a bargaining chip, highlights the need for a legal paradigm shift.

But it’s not just the interests and needs of whales that are at stake here. Other animals matter, too, not least the non-cetaceans still at Marineland and the animals trapped in farms, labs and zoos.

Challenging human exceptionalism

Book cover of 'Animals as Legal Beings' by Maneesha Deckha. It has a painting of a monkey on the cover — ‘Animals as Legal Beings’ by Maneesha Deckha.
(University of Toronto Press)

As I’ve written at length in my book Animals as Legal Beings, we need to displace the human exceptionalism that characterizes our laws and shapes our relationships with all animals — even dogs, cats and other companion animals.

This means rejecting the idea that humans are superior and animals are merely “property.” It also means valuing and respecting animals enough to stop their immense suffering in captive industries.

Eliminating human exceptionalism would dramatically reshape society by calling for structural changes to our economy, laws and daily practices. But it would benefit all of us.

Now, more than ever, we need to see the links between the dismal legal treatment of animals and other social issues. As I have also written about, human exceptionalism in the law undermines efforts to surmount sexism and racism because all of these systems depend on devaluing animals.

Human exceptionalism is also incompatible with reconciliation and decolonization, which require respect for Indigenous worldviews and laws. Many Indigenous legal orders view animals as equals, kin and beings with their own intentions, families and life purposes.

Keeping belugas and other animals in captivity disavows animal autonomy and devastates animal families. The suffering of captive animals is part of a broader failure to see animals as fellow beings with their own rights.

Protecting animal lives

Human exceptionalism is at the heart of climate change, biodiversity loss, ocean warming and other planetary health crises. The same extractive logic that drives industrial pollution, deforestation and climate destruction also governs how we treat animals.

While whales in the ocean have it better than the belugas still enduring captivity at Marineland, all animals — no matter where they live — are unjustly harmed by a social and legal system that privileges human and corporate interests and runs roughshod over the interests of non-humans.

The belugas and other animals at Marineland deserve to live. A legal system that allows them to be killed because it is economically convenient is one that needs to change. It’s not the belugas that should be euthanized, but rather the human exceptionalism that continues to drive Canadian law and policy.

We can transition away from this outdated and harmful worldview toward a future that views justice and compassion from an interspecies lens and will uplift us all.

Maneesha Deckha is a monthly supporter of the advocacy group Animal Justice.

– ref. The fate of Marineland’s belugas expose the ethical cracks in Canadian animal law – https://theconversation.com/the-fate-of-marinelands-belugas-expose-the-ethical-cracks-in-canadian-animal-law-267500

October 26, 2025

Médecine, transports, technologies numériques… Et si on arrêtait d’inventer de nouveaux matériaux ?

Source: The Conversation – in French – By Mathilde Laurent-Brocq, Docteure – chercheuse en science des matériaux, Université Paris-Est Créteil Val de Marne (UPEC); Centre national de la recherche scientifique (CNRS)

Développer des matériaux nouveaux semble toujours nécessaire pour répondre à des besoins urgents en médecine ou dans le registre de la transition écologique. Pourtant, l’extraction des matières premières nécessaires à leur fabrication et leur mauvaise capacité de recyclage engendrent des impacts environnementaux très lourds. Comment résoudre ce dilemme ?

« L’un des pires scandales sanitaires depuis des décennies », « une famille de 10 000 polluants éternels », « la France empoisonnée à perpétuité », « la pollution sans fin des PFAS » : voilà ce que titrait la presse à propos des PFAS, acronyme anglais de per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances. Il est loin le temps où ces nouveaux composés chimiques étaient admirés et développés pour leurs nombreuses propriétés : antiadhésifs, ignifuges, antitaches, imperméabilisants… Aujourd’hui, c’est plutôt leur toxicité qui inquiète. Cela nous rappelle évidemment l’histoire de l’amiante, un très bon isolant, mais qui s’est révélé hautement toxique. Face à ces scandales à répétition, la question se pose : et si on arrêtait d’inventer de nouveaux matériaux ?

Mais tout d’abord, qu’est-ce qu’un matériau ? C’est une matière que nous utilisons pour fabriquer des objets. Scientifiquement, un matériau est caractérisé par une composition chimique (la concentration en atomes de fer, de silicium, de carbone, d’azote, de fluor…) et une microstructure (l’organisation de ces atomes à toutes les échelles). Ces deux caractéristiques déterminent les propriétés du matériau – mécaniques, électriques, magnétiques, esthétiques… – qui guideront le choix de l’utiliser dans un objet en particulier. Après avoir exploité les matériaux d’origine naturelle, nous avons conçu et produit de très nombreux matériaux artificiels, de plus en plus performants et sophistiqués. Bien sûr, personne ne souhaite revenir à l’âge de fer, mais a-t-on encore besoin de continuer cette course folle ?

D’autant que l’impact sur la santé n’est pas le seul inconvénient des nouveaux matériaux. Ces derniers requièrent souvent des matières premières ayant un impact environnemental majeur. Prenons l’exemple des fameuses terres rares, tels que l’erbium ou le dysprosium, omniprésents dans les aimants des éoliennes ou dans les écrans des appareils électroniques. Leur concentration dans les gisements varie de 1 % à 10 %, à comparer aux plus de 60 % des mines brésiliennes de fer.

On extrait donc énormément de roches pour obtenir une maigre quantité de terres rares. Il reste encore à traiter le minerai, à en séparer les terres rares, ce qui est coûteux en énergie, en eau et en produits chimiques. Donnons aussi l’exemple du titane, étoile montante de l’aéronautique et du secteur biomédical. La transformation de son minerai émet environ 30 tonnes de CO₂ par tonne de titane produite, soit 15 fois plus que pour le minerai de fer.

Grande mine à ciel ouvert dans un paysage montagneux — La mine de Mountain Pass, aux États-Unis en Californie, est un gigantesque gisement de terres rares à ciel ouvert.
Tmy350/Wikimedia, CC BY-SA

Des composés si complexes qu’on ne peut pas les recycler

Autre inconvénient des nouveaux matériaux : leur recyclage est peu performant, voire inexistant, du fait de leurs compositions chimiques complexes. Par exemple, la quatrième génération de superalliages, utilisés dans les moteurs d’avion, contient au moins 10 éléments chimiques différents. Un smartphone en contient facilement une trentaine. Il existe une très grande variété de ces nouveaux matériaux. On dénombre 600 alliages d’aluminium classés dans 17 familles et une centaine de plastiques durs largement utilisés dans l’industrie, bien plus en comptant les nombreux additifs qui y sont incorporés.

Alors, imaginez nos petits atomes de dysprosium perdus à l’échelle atomique dans un aimant, lui-même imbriqué à d’autres matériaux du moteur de l’éolienne, le tout enseveli sous une montagne de déchets en tous genres. Il existe des techniques capables de trier puis de séparer ces éléments, mais elles font encore l’objet de nombreuses recherches. En attendant, plus d’une trentaine d’éléments chimiques ont un taux de recyclage inférieur à 1 %, autant dire nul.

Tableau périodique des éléments indiquant en couleur pour chaque élément son taux de recyclage — Estimation du taux de recyclage en fin de vie des métaux et métalloïdes, d’après les données du rapport « Recycling rates of metals : A status report » du Programme des Nations unies pour l’environnement (PNUE).
Mathilde Laurent-Brocq/CNRS, Fourni par l’auteur

Nous aurons pourtant besoin de nouveaux matériaux

Mais, au moins, est-ce que cela vaut la peine de produire et de (trop peu) recycler à grands frais environnementaux ces matériaux ? Laissons de côté les applications gadget et inutiles, tels que les écrans pliables, pour nous concentrer sur la transition énergétique.

Le déploiement des véhicules électriques et des énergies renouvelables semble indissociable du développement des matériaux qui les constitueront. Pour l’énergie nucléaire produite dans les réacteurs de quatrième génération ou par l’ambitieux projet de fusion nucléaire, les matériaux sont même le principal verrou technologique.

Ces nouveaux matériaux tiendront-ils leurs promesses ? Engendreront-ils un bénéfice global pour la société et pour l’environnement ? Le passé nous montre que c’est loin d’être évident.

Prenons l’exemple de l’allègement des matériaux de structure, mené pendant des dizaines d’années, avec l’objectif final (et louable) de réduire la consommation en carburant des véhicules. Ce fut un grand succès scientifique. Néanmoins le poids des voitures n’a cessé d’augmenter, les nouvelles fonctionnalités annulant les gains de l’allègement. C’est ce que l’on appelle l’« effet rebond », phénomène qui se manifeste malheureusement très souvent dès qu’une avancée permet des économies d’énergie et/ou de matériau.

J’ai participé à l’organisation d’une session du Tribunal pour les générations futures (TGF), une conférence-spectacle qui reprend la mise en scène d’un procès pour discuter de grands enjeux de société. La question était « Faut-il encore inventer des matériaux ? » Plusieurs témoins ont été appelés à la barre : des chercheurs en science des matériaux, mais aussi un responsable d’un centre de recherche et développement (R&D) et une autrice de science-fiction. Après les avoir écoutés, les jurés ont répondu « Oui » à une large majorité.

Personnellement, malgré toute la conscience des effets délétères que je vous ai présentés, je pense également que cela reste nécessaire, car nous ne pouvons pas priver les générations futures des découvertes à venir. Actuellement, des laboratoires travaillent sur des matériaux qui permettraient de purifier l’air intérieur ou d’administrer des médicaments de manière ciblée.

Évidemment que nous souhaitons donner leur chance à ces nouveaux matériaux ! Sans parler des découvertes dont nous n’avons aucune idée aujourd’hui et qui ouvriront de nouvelles perspectives. De plus, nous ne souhaitons pas entraver notre soif de connaissances. Étudier un nouveau matériau, c’est comme explorer des galeries souterraines et chercher à comprendre comment elles se sont formées.

Image en noir et blanc d’un alliage métallique vu de très près par microscopie électronique à balayge — Observations au microscope électronique à balayage de la surface d’un alliage métallique après rupture. « Explorer les galeries », comme sur l’image zoomée en bas à droite, aide à identifier la cause de la rupture. À terme, le but est de concevoir des alliages plus résistants.
Mathilde Laurent-Brocq/CNRS, Fourni par l’auteur

Dès la conception, prendre en compte les impacts environnementaux

Alors oui, continuons à inventer des matériaux, mais faisons-le autrement. Commençons par questionner les objectifs de nos recherches : pour remplir quels objectifs ? Qui tire profit de ces recherches ? Quelle science pour quelle société ?

Ces questions, pourtant anciennes, sont peu familières des chercheurs en sciences des matériaux. La science participative, par exemple grâce à des consultations citoyennes ou en impliquant des citoyens dans la collecte de données, permet de créer des interactions avec la société.

Cette démarche se développe en sciences naturelles où des citoyens peuvent compter la présence d’une espèce sur un territoire. Des collectifs citoyens espèrent même intervenir dans les discussions concernant les budgets et les objectifs des programmes de recherche. En science des matériaux, de telles démarches n’ont pas encore émergé, probablement limitées par le recours fréquent à des équipements expérimentaux complexes et coûteux ou à des simulations numériques non moins complexes.

Ensuite, éliminons dès le départ les applications néfastes et intégrons les enjeux environnementaux dès le début d’un projet de développement d’un matériau. Appliquons la démarche d’écoconception, qui a été définie pour les produits et les services. Évaluons les émissions de gaz à effet de serre, mais aussi la consommation de ressources, la pollution ou encore la perte de biodiversité qui seront induites par la production, l’utilisation et la fin de vie d’un matériau. Pour un nouveau matériau, la plupart de ces informations n’existeront pas et devront donc être mesurées en laboratoire puis extrapolées. C’est un défi en soi et, pour le relever, une unité d’appui et de recherche (UAR) baptisée Unité transdisciplinaire d’orientation et de prospective des impacts environnementaux de la recherche en ingénierie (Utopii), regroupant le CNRS ainsi que plusieurs universités et écoles d’ingénieur, vient d’être créée.

Et dans les nombreux cas de matériaux à l’impact environnemental néfaste, mais aux performances très prometteuses, que faire ? Les superalliages, dont la liste des composants est longue comme le bras, n’ont pas été développés par un irréductible ennemi du recyclage, mais parce que leur tenue à haute température est bien plus intéressante que leurs prédécesseurs. C’est le choix cornélien actuel de nombreux matériaux : performance, parfois au profit de la transition énergétique, ou respect de l’environnement.

Changer notre façon de faire

Pour sortir de cette impasse, un changement de point de vue s’impose. Et si, comme le propose le chercheur en biologie Olivier Hamant, on s’inspirait du vivant pour basculer de la performance vers la robustesse ?

La performance, c’est atteindre à court terme un objectif très précis : une bonne stratégie dans un monde stable aux ressources abondantes. La robustesse au contraire, c’est la capacité de s’adapter aux fluctuations, grâce à de la polyvalence, de la redondance, de la diversité.

Dans notre monde aux aléas croissants, la robustesse est très probablement préférable. Alors, comment l’appliquer aux nouveaux matériaux ? En créant des matériaux réparables, au moins en partie, qui supportent les contaminations du recyclage, ou bien qui s’adaptent à plusieurs applications ? Il semble que tout reste à inventer.

Mathilde Laurent-Brocq a reçu des financements du CNRS et de l’Université Paris Est Créteil.

– ref. Médecine, transports, technologies numériques… Et si on arrêtait d’inventer de nouveaux matériaux ? – https://theconversation.com/medecine-transports-technologies-numeriques-et-si-on-arretait-dinventer-de-nouveaux-materiaux-267560

October 26, 2025

Ethiopian quarter: how migrants have shaped a thriving shopping district in South Africa’s city of gold

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Tanya Zack, Visiting senior lecturer, University of the Witwatersrand

Since its founding in 1886, Johannesburg, has been a city of migrants, internal and international. But the economic capital of South Africa has undergone big changes since 1994 when South Africa became a democracy. One such change involves migration into the city by people from other African countries.

A new book, The Chaos Precinct: Johannesburg as a port city, by Tanya Zack traces how migrant Ethiopians have shaped a trading post in Johannesburg’s inner city. Zack, a planner who specialises in urban policy, regeneration, informality and sustainable development, explains how the Ethiopians did it.

What space have Ethiopian migrants carved out in the centre of Johannesburg?

The book is set in the shopping centres of the so-called Ethiopian Quarter, in high-rise, formerly commercial buildings in the inner city of Johannesburg. It is a cross-border shopping hub of thousands of cupboard-sized shops crammed into buildings. It defies the categories of formal or informal, of wholesale or retail. And it is where people from all of southern Africa come to shop for fast fashion.

While migrants from several countries trade here, the trading post was pioneered by and remains dominated by Ethiopian and Eritrean migrants. It is an extraordinary shopping district in what were high-rise medical buildings. These office towers centre on Rahima Moosa (previously Jeppe) Street, where medical practitioners and pharmaceutical companies once agglomerated.

Buildings that had been underutilised or abandoned became the canvas for an entrepreneurial transformation. Ethiopian migrants led the repurposing of these structures into over 3,000 tiny shops. Shopfronts are linked to storerooms located higher up in the buildings or nearby spaces. This new retail footprint wasn’t known in Johannesburg three decades ago. And the scale of trading has attracted many infrastructure uses that support the transnational movement of goods and people.

It was not supported by formal planning or pension funds, but developed by migrant entrepreneurs, one shop at a time.

They draw on global supply chains, particularly Chinese wholesalers operating in warehouse-style malls west of the inner city, to access a steady stream of fast fashion, cosmetics and household items. Inner-city-based Ethiopian traders then retail these goods in individual or smaller quantities. Their clientele is composed largely of cross-border traders who on-sell the products throughout southern Africa.

This model has effectively turned the inner city into an inland port. It’s a logistics hub where goods circulate rapidly, and where shoppers are embedded in an informal yet highly organised distribution network.

The inner-city street grid, first surveyed in 1886 during Johannesburg’s mining camp era, consists of very short blocks, which amplify pedestrian and vehicular congestion. It’s a frenzied shopping environment.

Shopkeepers and stallholders have maximised their display areas through creative lightweight architectures. Small shopfronts are linked to storerooms higher up in buildings or nearby. Sidewalks are lined with street vendors, forming mini corridors.

Internal arcades in the buildings further maximise the retail footprint. This hybrid, vertically integrated structuring has generated a real estate boom in previously underutilised buildings in a flagging property market.

The success of this enclave is also tied to the migrants’ ability to craft both social and commercial networks. Migrant traders and cross-border shoppers have relationships based on trading through information sharing, mutual assistance, and informal credit mechanisms. Traders are necessarily adaptive. They adjust to the pace of demand, shifting product lines quickly. They also coordinate closely with suppliers and resellers throughout Southern Africa. The spaces they use and adapt are similarly flexible.

This combination of adaptive reuse, dense retail specialisation and networked entrepreneurship has allowed Ethiopian migrants to carve out a commercial territory that is at once highly visible and deeply embedded in regional trade flows.

South Africa has been harsh towards informal economic activity. How has this been managed?

The Ethiopian Quarter exists in a context of often-hostile municipal and national governance.

South Africa has historically oscillated between tolerance and repression of informal economic activity, particularly when driven by foreign migrants. Law enforcement campaigns have regularly targeted street traders and migrant shopkeepers. Traders and shoppers alike face the constant threat of violent policing, corruption, theft, and harassment. Uniformed police or wardens regularly confront them, demanding that they prove their migrant status. There’s talk of being detained in vehicles until a bribe is paid.

Ethiopian migrant traders have developed a range of strategies to navigate the challenges of hostility. They co-locate with other Ethiopian traders, and rely on ethnic and commercial networks to absorb shocks and share information about law enforcement activities.

Ethiopian traders have also innovatively adapted their physical and commercial operations to reduce vulnerability. Shops are designed to control stock and display goods while concealing cash and high-value items. The light architectures and arcade designs of Jeppe also make it possible to conceal the shop in the event of raids.

Shoppers spend as little time as possible inside the crime-ridden Johannesburg CBD. On the day they choose goods, they often carry no money. They return later with cash to purchase goods as swiftly as possible so that cash is not carried unnecessarily. Many hide cash on their bodies.

The infrastructures that have developed to service the port-like functions of this massive cross border trading hub offer storage, package, information exchange and distribution services. Hotels, buses and storage facilities provide relative safety for cross-border shoppers who must navigate a city known for crime. A 2017 survey, funded by the Johannesburg Inner City Partnership,
found that over 60% of retailers had experienced physical assault. 38% reported regularly giving police officers something to mitigate harassment.

What lessons do you draw about how cities should govern migration?

The cross-border shopping hub demonstrates that migrant-driven informal economies are engines of economic activity. Estimates based on the 2017 cross border shopping survey showed that shoppers in the Jeppe district alone spent close to US$600 million annually. This was twice the turnover of Sandton City, at that time Africa’s richest mall.

The activities of Jeppe mimic international entrepots like Singapore and Hong Kong. They offer information exchange, repackaging and distribution services for goods flowing from China to international destinations. This Johannesburg entrepot has regional significance, distributing goods throughout southern Africa. But it’s under-recognised by municipal authorities.

A law and order approach must at least be coupled with a developmental approach. Cities that aim to govern migration must integrate migrant economic activity rather than suppress it.

Support through infrastructure improvements and security provision would amplify Jeppe’s economic impact.

This includes recognising the legitimacy of informal trading spaces, investing in basic infrastructure and safety, and developing regulations that protect safety while accommodating new building uses.

Partnership approaches that involve traders’ associations, building managers and community intermediaries to co-manage spaces would be valuable.

What does your work tell us about a city that’s been in decline. And solutions?

The burgeoning economy in Jeppe needs to be recognised alongside the private investments in Johannesburg that are celebrated for their regenerative capacity. This migrant enclave demonstrates how urban regeneration can evolve out of the actions of thousands of actors.

The challenge is to direct, support and harness this energy.

If we were to think of Johannesburg as a port, how would we understand and use the ecosystems of trade, movement and distribution that this networked economy has created? What other services could flow through these ecosystems? And what safety, mobility and public infrastructure services are required to enhance these entrepot functions and claim this role for the city, an African urban hub tied to multiple cities and small towns across the continent?

The cross-border shopping hub of Jeppe offers hope for an inland entrepot to be recognised, supported and expanded to offer the global services that Johannesburg’s infrastructure can provide.

Tanya Zack 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. Ethiopian quarter: how migrants have shaped a thriving shopping district in South Africa’s city of gold – https://theconversation.com/ethiopian-quarter-how-migrants-have-shaped-a-thriving-shopping-district-in-south-africas-city-of-gold-266494

October 26, 2025

Ghana’s banks are not lending enough to sectors where it matters most, like agriculture and manufacturing

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Abotebuno Akolgo, Postdoctoral Fellow, Bard College Berlin; Bayreuth University

Bank lending is a major source of funding for businesses in Ghana. It helps pay for operational expenditure and investment in expansion of productive capacity. Therefore, it is important that there is substantial, affordable, and accessible financial credit for all businesses in the medium to long term. More than this, it matters which sectors of the country’s economy receive most of its bank credit.

In a recent study of the sectoral distribution of bank lending in Ghana, I found that for two and a half decades, bank lending to the agricultural and manufacturing enterprises has been in sharp decline.

In the 25 years from 1999 to 2023, the share of total bank credit that went to the agricultural and manufacturing sector fell by about 65% and 56% respectively. For instance, in 1999, about 25% of total bank lending went to manufacturing businesses. By 2023 however, that figure had fallen to about 11%.

I am an economist with expertise in the political economy of money, finance, and development in Africa. My research on Ghana has attempted to explain the financial constraints to the country’s economic transformation since independence in 1957. I have previously written on Ghana’s sovereign indebtedness and its banking and monetary policies.

The findings in the current study matter because in Ghana, agriculture and manufacturing are crucial to creating substantial, sustainable, and shared economic growth. Agriculture is the second largest employer in Ghana’s economy after the services sector. It is also crucial for creating the raw materials that can fuel manufacturing sector growth.

The role of banks & finance in economic development

There is no single perspective among economists on how banks operate or should operate in an economy. There are those economists within neoclassical economics circles who hold the conventional, largely discredited view that banks act merely as intermediaries who take money from savers and lend to borrowers.

In contrast, there are those, particularly post-Keynesian economists, who assert, rightly, that modern banks do not merely receive deposits and turn them into loans. They insist that banks create credit for borrowers but not necessarily from savers’ deposits.

Still, most economists agree on some things. First of all, that finance is crucial to economic development. Secondly, that the banking system has a role in the flow of finance to individuals, households and businesses.

Not all forms of financial flows are healthy for economic transformation, however. The key then for successful financial policy is to distinguish between productive and unproductive credit.

Productive credit flows support the entrepreneurial innovation that is central to creating new products or expanding production levels. This kind of credit will for instance support agricultural production and expand manufacturing capacity and outputs.

Unproductive credit does not increase the level of output. For instance, lending to support household consumption or financial speculation is unproductive.

The Ghanaian banking system does not generate enough credit for the private sector. However, that was hardly the concern for this study. Of particular interest is the question: where does the credit go to?

Bank credit to agriculture and manufacturing has declined

My study set out to disaggregate the data on financial credit to the various sectors of the Ghanaian economy. These sectors included agriculture, manufacturing and services. The evidence shows that bank lending has not significantly supported real productive sectors such as agriculture and manufacturing.

As indicated in Figures 1 and 2, the shares of financial credit to the agricultural and manufacturing have been in decline. On average, over the last 25 years, 14.6% and 5.8% of total bank credit was allocated to manufacturing and agriculture respectively. In contrast, the services sector averaged 20.7% of bank credit. Commerce and finance sector received an average of 17.3% over the same period.

As productive sectors are denied sufficient credit, well-paid and sustainable jobs cannot be created in agriculture or manufacturing as most Ghanaians are reduced to informal petty trading of foreign goods.

Two main reasons have accounted for this dysfunction of the financial system. First, the foreign domination of Ghana’s banking sector, and second the failure of monetary policy. About 50% of banks in Ghana are foreign owned. Foreign banks tend to be more risk averse. They are less likely to lend to small and medium-scale enterprises (SMEs).

Second, the Bank of Ghana’s excessive focus on monetary stability through inflation-targeting is problematic. It often results in raising interest rates and, consequently, borrowing costs. This discourages private sector borrowing while attracting bank investments into government securities. Ghana’s inflation is largely driven by structural factors and not money supply problems. These factors include production and transport costs. Monetary stability through inflation-targeting is therefore a misplaced priority.

Besides, by focusing solely on monetary stability, the central bank is neglecting its role to support the overall development of the economy through credit policy. This developmental role is clearly set out in The Bank of Ghana (Amendment) Act 2016 (Act 918). This revised the 2002 Act to take account of the central bank’s role to support government economic policy and ensure an efficient operation of the banking and credit system.

Before the IMF-led financial reforms of the 1980s and 1990s which were necessitated by the 1980s financial crisis, the Bank of Ghana intervened, effectively and efficiently, to direct credit to priority sectors. For instance, in the early 1980s when the liberal financial reforms had not taken root in Ghana, the Bank of Ghana used a combination of credit ceilings, interest rates, reserve requirements, and mandatory lending ratios to direct credit to agriculture and industry. Credit ceilings ensured that banks could not lend beyond a certain limit to sectors other than agriculture and manufacturing. Lower interest rates were also offered to agricultural loans and in other instances, mandatory lending ratios ensured banks were forced to lend a certain share of loans to agriculture and manufacturing.

Drawing lessons from the present moment and past, I recommend a serious rethink of financial policy. A return to some level of credit policies, a deliberate support for indigenous participation in the banking system and a revitalisation of development banks such as the Agricultural Development Bank and the National Investment Bank.

This article is the outcome of research conducted within the Africa Multiple Cluster of Excellence at the University of Bayreuth, funded by the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft (DFG, German Research Foundation) under Germany’s Excellence Strategy – EXC 2052/1 – 390713894

– ref. Ghana’s banks are not lending enough to sectors where it matters most, like agriculture and manufacturing – https://theconversation.com/ghanas-banks-are-not-lending-enough-to-sectors-where-it-matters-most-like-agriculture-and-manufacturing-265433

October 26, 2025

Taking down malaria’s bodyguards: scientists target parasite’s secret defence system

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Tawanda Zininga, Lecturer and Researcher, Stellenbosch University

Malaria remains one of the world’s most devastating infectious diseases, claiming more than half a million lives each year. In Africa, the illness is mostly caused by a parasite carried by mosquitoes – Plasmodium falciparum.

When the parasite invades the human body, it faces a hostile environment: soaring fevers, attacks from the body’s immune system, and the stress of antimalarial medicines. Yet it can survive, thanks to an internal defence system made up of “helper” molecules known as heat shock proteins.

Among these, a powerful group called small heat shock proteins act as the parasite’s last line of defence. These molecules behave like tiny bodyguards, protecting other proteins inside the parasite from damage when conditions become extreme. They are the parasite’s emergency rescue team when energy reserves are dangerously low, such as during high fever or exposure to drugs.

In my biochemistry laboratory, we’re looking for ways to disrupt these bodyguards.

Master’s student Francisca Magum Timothy and I are using advanced protein-chemistry tools to examine three small heat shock proteins found in the parasite. These share a common core structure but behave differently.

We’ve found that they can be chemically disrupted. This marks an exciting direction for malaria research. Instead of directly killing the parasite, the approach focuses on disarming its defences, allowing other treatments or the body’s immune system to finish the job.

The next steps involve finding small, drug-like molecules that can specifically target and disable these parasite proteins without harming human cells. This will require advanced computer modelling, laboratory testing and eventually, studies in animal models to make sure the approach is both effective and safe. If successful, this could lead to a new class of antimalarial drugs that work in a completely different way from current treatments. This is an especially important goal as resistance to existing medicines continues to grow.

From early laboratory work to developing a drug that could be tested in people will likely take around eight to 10 years, depending on how the candidates perform in each research stage. Still, the discovery of these heat shock protein targets represents a big step forward and offers real hope for more effective, long-lasting malaria control in the future.

Unpacking the mysteries of three proteins

We found clear differences between the three proteins we tested in the laboratory.

One was the strongest and most stable of the trio, the other was more flexible but less stable, and one was the weakest protector.

When tested in stress conditions, all three acted as “molecular sponges”, preventing other proteins from clumping together. That’s a crucial step for the parasite’s survival during fever. But their protective strength varied: one offered the most consistent defence, while the other lost structure more easily.

These findings suggest that the parasite may rely on a team effort among the three, each taking on a slightly different role during stress.

So we asked: could natural compounds found in plants disrupt these bodyguards? Our team focused on quercetin, a plant-based flavonoid. Flavonoids are among the compounds that give plants their bright colours, like red in apples, purple in berries, or yellow in lemons. They help protect plants from sunlight, pests and disease. These are abundant in apples, onions and berries. Quercetin is already known for its antioxidant and anti-inflammatory properties. Some studies have already hinted that it might slow down malaria parasites.

When we exposed the parasite proteins to quercetin, we observed remarkable effects. The compound destabilised the small heat shock proteins, altering their shape and reducing their ability to protect other proteins. In simple terms, quercetin appeared to confuse or weaken the parasite’s bodyguards.

Further tests confirmed that quercetin also slowed the growth of malaria parasites in laboratory cultures. When malaria parasites were grown in controlled laboratory conditions and exposed to quercetin, they multiplied more slowly than usual, including strains that are resistant to standard drugs. This is encouraging because it suggests that quercetin itself, or new medicines made to work like it but even more strongly, could become the starting point for developing a new type of antimalarial drug in the future.

Moreover, small heat shock proteins kick in when the parasite’s energy supply, known as ATP, the cell’s main “fuel”, runs very low. In simple terms, when the parasite is close to running out of energy and facing danger, these proteins act as its last line of defence.

Next steps

Our findings point to the possibility of drugs being designed that shut down these ATP-independent helpers and strike the parasite precisely when it is weakest.

Although quercetin itself is a natural compound found in many foods, its potency and stability are not yet strong enough for clinical use. The team envisions chemical modification of quercetin’s structure to create derivatives with enhanced activity and better drug-like properties.

As global efforts to eliminate malaria face growing challenges from drug resistance, innovations like this provide renewed hope. By turning the parasite’s own survival machinery against it, scientists may have found a subtle but powerful way to outsmart one of humanity’s oldest foes.

Tawanda Zininga receives funding from the National Research Foundation and the Medical Research Council, who have no role in the project and its outcomes.

– ref. Taking down malaria’s bodyguards: scientists target parasite’s secret defence system – https://theconversation.com/taking-down-malarias-bodyguards-scientists-target-parasites-secret-defence-system-267029

October 25, 2025

Qu’est-ce que le « défilement anxiogène » ?

Source: The Conversation – France (in French) – By Marie Danet, Maîtresse de conférence en psychologie – HDR, Université de Lille

Le « défilement anxiogène » décrit ce geste familier où l’on fait défiler, parfois pendant des heures, des flux de mauvaises nouvelles. Un « réflexe numérique » qui manifeste nos biais cognitifs et notre façon de gérer les incertitudes.

Apparu en 2018, le terme de « défilement anxiogène », ou « doomscrolling », en anglais, s’est imposé pendant la pandémie de Covid. Dans la littérature scientifique, il renvoie à une habitude numérique : consulter des fils d’actualité, souvent sur smartphone, de façon compulsive avec une focalisation sur les contenus inquiétants, déprimants ou négatifs.

Comment expliquer ce phénomène ? Tout d’abord, par le biais de négativité qui focalise notre attention d’humains sur les contenus néfastes et qui nous incite donc à faire défiler les informations anxiogènes sans percevoir le temps qui passe. Ensuite, sur le plan cognitif, par l’incertitude qui active un mécanisme émotionnel de recherche d’informations rassurantes parmi les contenus négatifs. Mais cette quête, loin de réduire l’anxiété, tend à la renforcer en entretenant la vigilance et le doute.

Cette pratique de défilement est renforcée, d’une part, par la technologie qui offre un flux d’actualités illimités et, d’autre part, par les recommandations des algorithmes qui augmentent notre exposition à des informations saillantes, souvent négatives.

Une transformation du rapport à l’information

À partir d’une échelle de mesure du défilement anxiogène, on a observé que cette habitude numérique est associée à une détresse psychologique, à une moindre satisfaction de vie et à des usages problématiques des réseaux – sans pour autant pouvoir conclure à un lien de causalité.

Les liens entre défilement anxiogène et émotions négatives pourraient s’expliquer en partie par l’intolérance à l’incertitude. Selon une étude, celle-ci prédit en effet une augmentation du défilement anxiogène et une baisse du bien-être. Par ailleurs, l’intolérance à l’incertitude expliquerait le lien entre l’anxiété-état (tendance stable à ressentir de l’anxiété plus fréquemment ou intensément que la moyenne) et le défilement anxiogène. Cette pratique serait donc une façon de faire face, de réguler ses émotions sans pour autant être une stratégie efficace puisqu’elle ne permettrait pas un apaisement.

Cependant, le défilement anxiogène n’est pas juste une pratique individuelle. Il serait aussi le reflet d’un rapport au monde, de la façon dont les technologies numériques et le design de captation de l’attention peuvent transformer notre relation à l’information, avec un accès en temps réel à des événements négatifs. À côté de ce défilement anxiogène passif, le doomsurfing (exploration active d’un sujet) et le doomchecking (retour à des sources fiables pour vérifier) peuvent avoir une valeur de connaissance, d’information, s’ils ne dépassent pas nos limites émotionnelles.

Cette distinction rappelle que notre but n’est pas seulement de « nous sentir mieux », mais aussi d’être correctement informés. Pourtant, du point de vue de la connaissance, le défilement anxiogène est le moins recommandable, car il expose à la désinformation.

Comprendre le terme de défilement anxiogène et les mécanismes individuels et algorithmiques associés, c’est déjà commencer à le déjouer, en transformant un défilement passif en une pratique d’information plus consciente, plus choisie et moins délétère pour le bien-être.

La série « L’envers des mots » est réalisée avec le soutien de la délégation générale à la langue française et aux langues de France du ministère de la culture.

Marie Danet ne travaille pas, ne conseille pas, ne possède pas de parts, ne reçoit pas de fonds d’une organisation qui pourrait tirer profit de cet article, et n’a déclaré aucune autre affiliation que son organisme de recherche.

– ref. Qu’est-ce que le « défilement anxiogène » ? – https://theconversation.com/quest-ce-que-le-defilement-anxiogene-267836

October 25, 2025

Catherine Connolly and the paradoxes of the Irish presidency

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Eoin Daly, Lecturer Above The Bar, School of Law, University of Galway

Ireland is set to have a new president in the form of Catherine Connolly, an independent leftwing TD for Galway, and former deputy speaker of the Dáil.

The presidential election campaign was a colourful and eccentric spectacle. Since the Irish president isn’t an executive office with power over policy, the campaign focused on obscure ethical scandals around the two candidates, Connolly and Fine Gael candidate Heather Humphreys.

At times, though, the debate strayed into various policy issues despite the president having no power over these. The candidates’ views on everything from housing, disability, military neutrality and even foxhunting came under scrutiny.

For many, the campaign will have seemed awkward and profoundly odd. Ireland went through the rigmarole of a national election but for something for which the political stakes are undeniably low. This, in turn, reflects certain anomalies of the Irish presidency as a political institution.

The president of Ireland, a role created by the 1937 constitution, is the only national office elected directly by the people. The president will, therefore, have a very significant democratic mandate, and will tend to be a popular figure.

But this mandate is not matched by very much power. A president must campaign for a mandate from the people, yet once in office, finds no real conduit, other than speech itself, through which to make good on that mandate.

Presidential powers

In a parliamentary democracy such as the UK or Ireland – where the executive government is formed from within the parliament – the head of state will tend to have quite modest constitutional functions. Even where the head of state is a president, they will tend to have powers quite similar to those of a hereditary monarch. They formally sign bills into law and perform certain other strictly ceremonial constitutional functions, while serving as a symbol of continuity, national unity and so on.

One of the advantages of having an elective head of state, however, is that it becomes politically feasible to grant them more extensive powers of the sort that would be difficult to envisage for a monarch.

What exactly these powers are varies across parliamentary republics such as Germany, Italy or Greece. While Ireland’s post-independence constitutions mirrored many basic features of the British parliamentary system, they had elements of novelty and innovation as well. The office of the president was one of these.

Indeed, if someone were to read the constitution with no context, it makes the president seem like a potentially key player in the political system.

In particular, the constitution seems to envisage the president being a sort of arbiter in the legislative process, particularly in the event of deadlock between the two houses – the Dáil and Seanad (senate). These powers arise, for example, in the event of disputes over what counts as a “money bill”, or reducing the time the senate has to consider bills during a public emergency. The president also has, in theory, a power to refer bills to referendum, where petitioned by a majority of the Senate and one-third of the Dáil.

Douglas Hyde, Ireland’s first president.
Wikipedia

However, this potentially important umpire role has never really materialised in practice, mostly because these powers seem to envisage situations of dispute between the two houses that have hardly ever arisen in practice. The senate has never really posed much of a barrier to government legislation coming from the Dáil, partly because the taoiseach gets to nominate almost one-fifth of its members. Governments therefore have an almost guaranteed majority in the upper as well as lower houses. Any notional role of umpire for the president becomes redundant in a legislative system so dominated by the government.

The president does also have the power to refer bills to the Supreme Court to test their constitutionality, a power that has been used 16 times. However, relatively few constitutional controversies have been resolved through this process. The more common route to resolving any doubts about potentially unconstitutional laws has been through via advice from the attorney general.

Beyond legislation, the president is theoretically a potential kingmaker in the process of government formation. Unlike the British monarch, the president cannot “invite” anybody to form a government. But they can refuse a taoiseach’s request to call a snap election, if the taoiseach has lost the confidence of the Dáil. But again, the role notionally envisaged for the president, as a kind of arbiter within the political system, never really materialised in practice, as an expectation emerged of presidents having a passive and ceremonial role.

With many of their formal powers becoming more or less redundant, a president who was campaigned for and received the people’s trust must fulfil that mandate by some other means. More recent presidents, especially Mary Robinson and the outgoing president, Michael D Higgins, have sought to express their democratic mandate more in the realm of symbolism than in the exercise of any hard power. Higgins controversially used the presidency to speak out in the range of topics, from housing and inequality, to the issues of neutrality and genocide on the international stage.

Michael D Higgins: an outspoken president.
Shutterstock/D. Ribeiro

But the controversies of Higgins’ tenure neatly reflected the wider paradoxes of the Irish presidency. Many of the powers of the office – at least the discretionary powers where the president has some choice – are almost redundant. Its legitimacy and clout is expressed almost exclusively in the symbolic realm. Higgins gave voice to widely held concerns of injustice and inequality both in Ireland and globally – but it would be difficult to argue that this shifted the political needle leftwards in Ireland during his tenure. It is in that context that another relatively radical figure will assume office as president of Ireland.

Eoin Daly 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. Catherine Connolly and the paradoxes of the Irish presidency – https://theconversation.com/catherine-connolly-and-the-paradoxes-of-the-irish-presidency-268245