Why brands are embracing fantasy: The psychology behind escapist marketing in anxious times

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Eugene Y. Chan, Associate Professor of Marketing, Toronto Metropolitan University

Why did Aritzia open a café inside its flagship store in Toronto? Why did Burberry pivot from fashion photography to cinematic ads that transport viewers into dreamlike sequences? And why is Simons, Canada’s remaining department store, incorporating art and interactive technologies into its retail spaces?

The answer lies in a trend known as escapist marketing. In an era marked by economic uncertainty, climate anxiety, geopolitical tensions and relentless digital fatigue, brands are turning to fantasy, storytelling and emotionally immersive design to sell products to consumers.

Escapist marketing is a strategy that creates emotionally immersive experiences to help consumers temporarily escape from reality, often through fantasy, nostalgia or idealized lifestyles. It taps into the desire for relief from stress or monotony by offering imaginative or aspirational narratives.

A video introducing ‘It’s Always Burberry Weather: London in Love,’ a series of seven films by Burberry inspired by British romantic comedies.

Escapist marketing has been gaining traction in Canada as consumers are drawn to brands that spark imagination and emotional engagement. According to a 2024 Retail Council of Canada report, Gen Z shoppers prefer brands that offer emotional connection, purpose and creativity.

The inaugural Great Canadian Brand Index, which one of us (Eugene Y. Chan) helped develop, found that brands perceived as adventurous, honest and imaginative scored highest in overall public favourability. These are precisely the qualities expressed through fantastical storytelling.

As marketing professors and researchers, we’ve been studying how and why this approach works, and we’ve found it’s grounded in psychology.

The rise of fantasy in branding

While brands have long used aspiration in their marketing, today’s strategies feel noticeably different. The focus has shifted from luxury and exclusivity to escapism itself, and it’s becoming increasingly visible across industries.

Consider Coca-Cola’s “Real Magic” campaign, for instance, which uses AI-generated imagery to create whimsical dreamscapes. Or Apple’s recent “Mother Nature” ad, which reframes a corporate report about the brand’s support of environmental and social issues as a high-concept film starring Octavia Spencer.

Apple’s ‘Mother Nature’ ad.

In London, Gucci’s “Gucci Cosmos” series invites visitors into a surreal world of time travel and design history.

These marketing campaigns are all designed to be emotional experiences for consumers. This means that the emotional reactions consumers have during interactions with a brand, product or service influence their attitudes, memories and future decision-making. These emotions deepen engagement and strengthen brand loyalty.

As consumers continue to feel burned out and overstimulated, fantasy in the form of escapism offers them mental relief. Research shows that immersive experiences — whether through entertainment, retail environments or brand storytelling — can distract from stressors and promote emotional recovery. By providing a temporary break from reality, fantasy-driven marketing taps into a deep psychological need for comfort and cognitive release.

Why it works: The psychology of escapism

To understand why escapist marketing is so effective, it helps to look at the psychology behind it.

One explanation comes from construal level theory, a framework that examines how psychological distance shapes thinking. When something feels far away in time, space or familiarity, we tend to think about it more abstractly.

Surreal or fantastical branding increases this distance, shifting consumers’ focus from immediate utility to emotional resonance, identity and imagination.

While escapist marketing is a broader strategy that aims to help consumers mentally disengage from reality, surreal or fantastical branding is one specific tactic that uses dreamlike, imaginative visuals and narratives to achieve that goal.

Not all escapist marketing is surreal, but surreal branding often serves as a powerful form of escapism by transporting consumers into an alternate world.

A video about the Gucci Cosmos exhibition celebrating over 100 years of the brand’s history.

Our research supports this. In one study, we explored how concave visual design — where ad elements curve inward — draws viewers into the imagery, increases feelings of immersion and enhances message recall and persuasion. This is likely why dreamlike campaigns often use fluid, expansive or distorted imagery.

Another factor is anthropomorphism: the tendency to assign human traits to objects or environments. In our studies on destination branding, we found that people are more emotionally connected to places or products that seem to come alive. These findings help explain why fantastical branding resonates so strongly with consumers, particularly in times of stress.

Escapism also pairs naturally with luxury branding, where emotional desire often outweighs functional need. In a recent study with our research colleagues, we found that luxury brands were evaluated more favourably when their positioning felt abstract or elevated. Fantasy enhances this effect, allowing consumers to feel both wealthier and transported.

Escapism isn’t a free pass

There’s a fine line between meaningful escapism and empty spectacle. If a brand’s fantasy narrative feels disconnected from its action, or appears to mask unethical practices, consumers are quick to notice.

Greenwashing, AI overuse or tone-deaf advertising can easily backfire on businesses.

When consumers perceive a brand as inauthentic — whether through misleading sustainability claims, excessive reliance on AI or insensitive messaging — it can erode trust, trigger public criticism and lead to brand avoidance.

Studies show that such missteps often result in reputational damage and decreased customer loyalty, particularly among values-driven or socially aware consumers

This is where the concept of radical honesty intersects with escapism. The most effective marketing campaigns today blend creativity with transparency. They tell imaginative stories while also acknowledging real-world issues like carbon emissions, labour practices and social justice issues.

Brands like Patagonia — and Peace Collective in Canada that’s working in conjunction with McDonalds — have managed to strike this balance by combining emotionally impactful ad campaigns with commitments to ethical and sustainable practices.

Consumers want experiences that resonate

In times of economic stress and cultural fatigue, Canadians are seeking experiences that resonate with them. When done thoughtfully and grounded in psychology and authenticity, escapist marketing can respond to consumers’ desire to feel something deeper, even via something as brief as a 30-second ad.

So next time you find yourself smiling at a surreal commercial or lingering in a carefully curated retail space, understand that small moment of wonder is a strategic choice, supported by research.

But while immersive storytelling may captivate audiences, consumers are becoming more discerning about what feels authentic. The future of escapist marketing may lie in the blending of digital and physical realities. Tools like augmented and virtual reality can allow brands to create even more immersive fantasies.

Imagine ordering coffee from an AI-generated character or in a branded metaverse cafe. While it may seem futuristic and fun, many consumers feel uneasy when brands rely too heavily on artificial interactions, fearing a loss of authenticity. This tension highlights the growing divide between technological novelty and the human connection consumers still crave.

As technology evolves, so, too, will consumer expectations of emotional, imaginative engagement. The next chapter in fantasy branding may not just offer us an escape, but could redefine how we experience commerce itself.

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. Why brands are embracing fantasy: The psychology behind escapist marketing in anxious times – https://theconversation.com/why-brands-are-embracing-fantasy-the-psychology-behind-escapist-marketing-in-anxious-times-259226

How Israeli and U.S. strikes against Iran were facilitated by the Russia-Ukraine war

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

The American intervention in Iran is being touted as an outstanding success by President Donald Trump. At the very least, Trump’s decision to attack Iran facilitated a ceasefire as it created angst in Gulf states about being caught in the crossfire after Iran symbolically attacked an American air base, Al Udeid, in Qatar.

The long-term implications and viability of the ceasefire are open for debate.

If Iran preserved its nuclear stockpile of fissile material, it has more incentive to develop a nuclear weapon, despite the damage Israel and the United States did to its production facilities. This is especially true if the damage to facilities like Fordow was less than Trump is proclaiming.

Russian-Iranian relations

While the future of Iran’s nuclear weapons capacity remains unknown, what is clear is that the U.S. and Israel were able to strike at Iran in large part due to Russia’s ongoing war in Ukraine.

In the modern era, relations between Russia and Iran have frequently been tense. Russia and the Soviet Union’s interests in the region have provoked several conflicts, most notably during the 1940s when the Soviets encouraged the formation of the People’s Republic of Azerbaijan on Iranian soil.

The shah of Iran’s close relationship with the U.S. further discouraged a strong relationship between Moscow and Tehran.

The shah’s fall and the collapse of the Soviet Union, however, allowed for a working relationship to develop between Iran and Russia. They’re still rivals but nevertheless work together when it suits their best interests. Russian and Iranian co-operation on the Syrian civil war is an example.

Furthermore, both Iran and Russia have provided diplomatic support for each other. Russia’s insertion into the Iran nuclear deal framework in 2015 benefited both parties. It provided economic benefits to Russia, and it also allowed Iran to develop its nuclear ambitions.

When Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, Iran was one of the few countries that didn’t oppose the move. It abstained from voting on a United Nations resolution in March 2022 condemning Russia’s aggression against Ukraine, which amounted to tacit support.

More importantly, Iran’s own success in evading oil sanctions helped Russia do the same, allowing the Russians to maintain their war effort in Ukraine.

The connections between Russia and Iran, however, goes beyond the political and economic.

Drones and other weapons

Iran has played a pivotal role in Russia’s war in Ukraine. One of Ukraine’s initial advantages was in drone technology, including the drone expertise of its allies. The Russian military, which had not fully embraced the implications of drone technology, was at a severe disadvantage.

Iran, however, had embraced the role of drones in warfare and both provided drones to Russia and helped the Russians develop their own domestic production.

Iran, at an arms disadvantage against Israel and the U.S., sought to use drones to offset this weakness. The Iranians, in fact, pioneered the use of drones, most notably the Shahed 131 and 136.




Read more:
How Russian and Iranian drone strikes further dehumanize warfare


Before Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, however, the flow of weapons between Russia and Iran was more one-sided. Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, Iran has been a vital market for Russian military technology. Russian leaders have viewed the sale of weapons to Iran as both a way of supporting the Russian economy and to counter American interests in the Middle East.

So what’s all this have to do with Ukraine?

Iran left open to bombardment

The most crucial weapon provided by Russia to Iran is arguably the S-300, an advanced surface-to-air missile systems.

Israel’s air dominance and its ability to overcome Iranian air defences in the past meant that the S-300 was a vital piece of technology for Iran. Israeli officials recognized the S-300’s importance to countering their operations when they, for several years, used political pressure to block S-300 sales to Iran.

In October 2024, Israel likely breached the software that operates the S-300, disabling the system’s radar. This breach allowed Israel to eliminate Iran’s S-300s, and left Iran vulnerable to Israeli and American air attacks.

Iran has been unable to acquire replacements for one simple reason: Russia needs the weapon systems in Ukraine. Ukraine has prioritized eliminating Russian air defences like the S-300.

The enduring Ukraine-Russia conflict has served as a bleeding ulcer for the Russian armaments industry. Russian military hardware has been destroyed at such a rate that it’s delayed Russia’s sale of weapons to key markets, including Iran and India.

The situation has caused Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi to pivot away from Russian military technology — a key feature in Russian-Indian relations — for domestic arms backed by western technology.

Iran, meantime, has been left open to aerial bombardment by Israel and the U.S.

Although Iran reportedly possesses the even more advanced S-400, this hasn’t been confirmed and Iran has denied it.

Ukraine advances U.S. interests

Rightly or wrongly, the U.S. government identified bombing Iran alongside Israel as being in its national interest. But it’s unlikely American involvement would have been possible without Ukraine draining Russian resources.

The problem is that the current U.S. administration views the world and its events in an isolated manner. But in a globalized world, few events remain in isolation.

The U.S. government may argue that supporting Ukraine is not in American interests, but Ukraine’s ongoing fight against Russia is actually assisting Americans elsewhere — most notably, in Iran.

The Conversation

James Horncastle does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. How Israeli and U.S. strikes against Iran were facilitated by the Russia-Ukraine war – https://theconversation.com/how-israeli-and-u-s-strikes-against-iran-were-facilitated-by-the-russia-ukraine-war-259845

Trump is not like other presidents – but can he beat the ‘second term curse’ that haunts the White House?

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Garritt C. Van Dyk, Senior Lecturer in History, University of Waikato

Getty Images

While he likes to provoke opponents with the possibility of serving a third term, Donald Trump faces a more immediate historical burden that has plagued so many presidents: the “second term curse”.

Twenty-one US presidents have served second terms, but none has reached the same level of success they achieved in their first.

Second term performances have ranged from the lacklustre and uninspiring to the disastrous and deadly. Voter dissatisfaction and frustration, presidential fatigue and a lack of sustainable vision for the future are all explanations.

But Trump doesn’t quite fit the mould. Only one other president, Grover Cleveland in the late 19th century, has served a second nonconsecutive term, making Trump 2.0 difficult to measure against other second-term leaders.

Trump will certainly be hoping history doesn’t repeat Cleveland’s second-term curse. Shortly after taking office he imposed 50% tariffs, triggering global market volatility that culminated in the “Panic of 1893”.

At the time, this was the worst depression in US history: 19% unemployment, a run on gold from the US Treasury, a stock market crash and widespread poverty.

More than a century on, Trump’s “move fast and break things” approach in a nonconsecutive second term might appeal to voters demanding action above all else. But he risks being drawn into areas he campaigned against.

So far, he has gone from fighting a trade war and a culture war to contemplating a shooting war in the Middle East. His “big beautiful bill” will add trillions to the national debt and potentially force poorer voters – including many Republicans – off Medicaid.

Whether his radical approach will defy or conform to the second term curse seems very much an open question.

No kings

The two-term limit was enacted by the 22nd Amendment to the Constitution in 1951. Without a maximum term, it was feared, an authoritarian could try to take control for life – like a king (hence the recent “No Kings” protests in the US).

George Washington, James Madison and Thomas Jefferson all declined to serve a third term. Jefferson was suspicious of any president who would try to be re-elected a third time, writing:

should a President consent to be a candidate for a 3d. election, I trust he would be rejected on this demonstration of ambitious views.

There is a myth that after Franklin Delano Roosevelt broke the de facto limit of two terms set by the early presidents, the ghost of George Washington placed a curse on anyone serving more than four years.

At best, second-term presidencies have been tepid compared to the achievements in the previous four years. After the second world war, some two-term presidents (Eisenhower, Reagan and Obama) started out strong but faltered after reelection.

Eisenhower extricated the US from the Korean War in his first term, but faced domestic backlash and race riots in his second. He had to send 500 paratroopers to escort nine Black high school students in Little Rock, Arkansas, to enforce a federal desegregation order.

Reagan made significant tax and spending cuts, and saw the Soviet Union crumble in term one. But the Iran-Contra scandal and watered down tax reform defined term two.

Obama started strongly, introducing health care reform and uniting the Democratic voter base. After reelection, however, the Democrats lost the House, the Senate, a Supreme Court nomination, and faced scandals over the Snowden security leaks and Internal Revenue Service targeting of conservative groups.

Truly disastrous examples of second term presidencies include Abraham Lincoln (assassination), Woodrow Wilson (first world war, failure of the League of Nations, a stroke), Richard Nixon (Watergate, impeachment and resignation), and Bill Clinton (Lewinsky scandal and impeachment).

Room for one more? Trump has joked about being added to Mount Rushmore.
Shutterstock

Monumental honours

It may be too early to predict how Trump will feature in this pantheon of less-than-greatness. But his approval ratings recently hit an all-time low as Americans reacted to the bombing of Iran and deployment of troops in Los Angeles.

A recent YouGov poll showed voters giving negative approval ratings for his handling of inflation, jobs, immigration, national security and foreign policy. While there has been plenty of action, it may be the levels of uncertainty, drastic change and market volatility are more extreme than some bargained for.

An uncooperative Congress or opposition from the judiciary can be obstacles to successful second terms. But Trump has used executive orders, on the grounds of confronting “national emergencies”, to bypass normal checks and balances.

As well, favourable rulings by the Supreme Court have edged closer to expanding the boundaries of executive power. But they have not yet supported Trump’s claim from his first term that “I have an Article 2, where I have the right to do whatever I want as President”.

Some supporters say Trump deserves a Nobel Peace Prize. And he was only half joking when he asked if there is room for one more face on Mount Rushmore. But such monumental honours may only amount to speculation unless Trump’s radical approach and redefinition of executive power defy the second-term curse.

The Conversation

Garritt C. Van Dyk has received funding from the Getty Research Institute.

ref. Trump is not like other presidents – but can he beat the ‘second term curse’ that haunts the White House? – https://theconversation.com/trump-is-not-like-other-presidents-but-can-he-beat-the-second-term-curse-that-haunts-the-white-house-260002

The Dalai Lama is a cisgender man – yet he has an unexpected connection to the trans community

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Stephen Kerry, Lecturer in Sociology, Charles Darwin University

Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama, turns 90 this week – a milestone that’s reigniting speculation over his eventual successor.

While the Dalai Lama is the face of Buddhism to many people across the world, he is actually the head of just one tradition within Tibetan Buddhism known as the Gelug school.

Tibetans believe the Dalai Lama to be the manifestation of Avalokiteśvara, the bodhisattva of compassion, and the “one who hears the cries of the world”.




Read more:
What is a bodhisattva? A scholar of Buddhism explains


Avalokiteśvara is prayed to across Asia, and is known as Chenrezig in Tibet, Guanyin in China, and Kannon or Kanzeon in Japan.

A statue of Avalokiteśvara.
Wikimedia, CC BY-SA

In Buddhism, a bodhisattva is a person, or a mythic representation of a person, who denies themselves enlightenment until all beings can achieve enlightenment. Avalokiteśvara appears to living beings in whatever form could best save them.

Although Avalokiteśvara originated in India as a man, they can be depicted as either a man, woman, or non-binary being. This gender fluidity has led to them being revered as a trans icon in the West.

I have spent the past five years investigating the lives of queer Buddhists in Australia. As part of this research, I have surveyed and interviewed 109 LGBTQIA+ Buddhist Australians.

The words of these individuals, and my own experience as a genderqueer Buddhist person, reveal how the Dalai Lama emerges an an unlikely inspiration for individuals sharing a trans and Buddhist identity.

The Big Buddha is a large bronze sculpture located near the Po Lin Monastery on Lantau Island, Hong Kong.
Joshua J. Cotten/Unsplash

Letting go of binaries

Through my work I have found LGBTQIA+ Buddhist Australians are generally reluctant to disclose their queer identities to their Buddhist communities, and may be told to remain silent about their identities.

For some, Avalokiteśvara’s gender fluidity has been important for reaffirming both their queer and Buddhist selves.

One Buddhist trans woman, Annie*, told me Guanyin had special significance for her. Annie spoke about Avalokiteśvara travelling from India to China as a male, before “transitioning” to the mainly female presentation of Guanyin over centuries. Annie said:

I pray to her regularly and often find I get a response. Of course the enlightened state is beyond all manner of worldly binaries, including gender, and is immensely important in letting go of binaries in my journey towards enlightenment.

Walter* has had a long fascination with depictions of Avalokiteśvara that “showed ‘him’ looking effeminate and handsome, with a cute moustache […] A little bit homoerotic, a little bit provocatively gender fluid, as seen through my eyes”.

Walter adds:

A great many people in different cultures, across history, worship these figures. Clever how this figure can morph into a radical trans! We all want to feel comforted, safe and saved from suffering.

As queer Buddhists, we turn to to Avalokitesvara to feel “comforted, safe and saved”.

Another interviewee, Brian*, told me about a Tibetan invocation practice he did with a senior Tibetan monk, in which he encountered Guanyin:

[She] took my right hand and passed some sort of power into it. She never spoke to me but just returned the way she had come. I was given some sort of gift, that’s all I know.

Since this experience, Brian has “always felt a strong connection to the feminine through her”. He has a special Guanyin altar on his farm.

You can’t be what you can’t see

Some Buddhists deny Avalokiteśvara’s queerness.

Asher*, a genderqueer Buddhist I interviewed, told me about a teacher who said to them, “there was absolutely no way a gay person could be enlightened”.

Asher retorted:

What about Kanzeon, the bodhisattva of compassion, who has manifested as both male and female and, in the stories from Japan, has had erotic relationships with monks?

The teacher dismissed this, replying, “those are just stories”.

A black statue of Avalokiteśvara outside a Japanese temple.
Wikimedia, CC BY

In her 1996 book Transgender Warriors, trans activist Leslie Feinberg writes: “I couldn’t find myself in history. No one like me seemed to have ever existed.”

Similarly, Annie evoked the statement: “You can’t be what you can’t see.”

I, too, experience this need to see myself as a genderqueer, non-binary practitioner of Zen Buddhism. It was only through doing these interviews with other queer Buddhists that I came to realise Guanyin, a trans icon, is a statuette which adorns the altar of the Buddhist group I belong to.

Knowing Avalokitesvara may be depicted as a man, woman, or non-binary being lets us queer Buddhists know we exist – and have always existed – within Buddhism.

Despite being a cisgender man who has been somewhat inconsistent in his support of queer people, the Dalai Lama, as the manifestation of the bodhisattva of compassion, is a possible spiritual link between today’s queer Buddhists and centuries-long traditions of gender transition and fluidity.

*Names have been changed.

The Conversation

Stephen Kerry 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. The Dalai Lama is a cisgender man – yet he has an unexpected connection to the trans community – https://theconversation.com/the-dalai-lama-is-a-cisgender-man-yet-he-has-an-unexpected-connection-to-the-trans-community-260106

Too much vitamin B6 can be toxic. 3 symptoms to watch out for

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Nial Wheate, Professor, School of Natural Sciences, Macquarie University

Selena3726/Shutterstock

Side effects from taking too much vitamin B6 – including nerve damage – may be more widespread than we think, Australia’s medicines regulator says.

In an ABC report earlier this week, a spokesperson for the Therapeutic Goods Administration (TGA) says it may have underestimated the extent of the side effects from vitamin B6 supplements.

However, there are proposals to limit sales of high-dose versions due to safety concerns.

A pathologist who runs a clinic that tests vitamin B6 in blood samples from across Australia also appeared on the program. He told the ABC that data from May suggests 4.5% of samples tested had returned results “very likely” indicating nerve damage.

So what are vitamin B6 supplements? How can they be toxic? And which symptoms do you need to watch out for?

What is vitamin B6?

Vitamin B6, also known as pyridoxine, plays an important role in keeping the body healthy. It is involved in the metabolism of proteins, carbohydrates and fats in food. It is also important for the production of neurotransmitters – chemical messengers in the brain that maintain its function and regulate your mood.

Vitamin B6 also supports the immune system by helping to make antibodies, which fight off infections. And it is needed to produce haemoglobin, the protein in red blood cells that carries oxygen around the body.

Some women take a vitamin B6 supplement when pregnant. It is thought this helps reduce the nausea associated with the early stages of pregnancy. Some women also take it to help with premenstrual syndrome.

However, most people don’t need, and won’t benefit from, a vitamin B6 supplement. That’s because you get enough vitamin B6 from your diet through meat, breakfast cereal, fruit and vegetables.

You don’t need much. A dose of 1.3–1.7 milligrams a day is enough for most adults.

Currently, vitamin B6 supplements with a daily dose of 5–200mg can be sold over the counter at health food stores, supermarkets and pharmacies.

Because of safety concerns, the TGA is proposing limiting their sale to pharmacies, and only after consultation with a pharmacist.

Daily doses higher than 200mg already need a doctor’s prescription. So under the proposal that would stay the same.

What happens if you take too much?

If you take too much vitamin B6, in most cases the excess will be excreted in your urine and most people won’t experience side effects. But there is a growing concern about long-time, high-dose use.

A side effect the medical community is worried about is peripheral neuropathy – where there is damage to the nerves outside the brain and spinal cord. This results in pain, numbness or weakness, usually in your hands and feet. We don’t yet know exactly how this happens.

In most reported cases, these symptoms disappear once you stop taking the supplement. But for some people it may take three months to two years before they feel completely better.

There is growing, but sometimes contradictory, evidence that high doses (more than 50mg a day) for extended periods can result in serious side effects.

A study from the 1990s followed 70 patients for five years who took a dose of 100 to 150mg a day. There were no reported cases of neuropathy.

But more recent studies show high rates of side effects.

A 2023 case report provides details of a man who was taking multiple supplements. This resulted in a daily combined 95mg dose of vitamin B6, and he experienced neuropathy.

Another report describes seven cases of neuropathy linked to drinking energy drinks containing vitamin B6.

Reports to the TGA’s database of adverse events notifications (a record of reported side effects) shows 174 cases of neuropathy linked with vitamin B6 use since 2023.

What should I do if I take vitamin B6?

The current advice is that someone who takes a dose of 50mg a day or more, for more than six months, should be monitored by a health-care professional. So if you regularly take vitamin B6 supplements you should discuss continued use with your doctor or pharmacist.

There are three side effects to watch out for, the first two related to neuropathy:

  1. numbness or pain in the feet and hands

  2. difficulty with balance and coordination as a result of muscle weakness

  3. heartburn and nausea.

If you have worrying side effects after taking vitamin B6 supplements, contact your state’s poison information centre on 13 11 26 for advice.

The Conversation

Nial Wheate in the past has received funding from the ACT Cancer Council, Tenovus Scotland, Medical Research Scotland, Scottish Crucible, and the Scottish Universities Life Sciences Alliance. He is a fellow of the Royal Australian Chemical Institute. Nial is the chief scientific officer of Vaihea Skincare LLC, a director of SetDose Pty Ltd (a medical device company) and was previously a Standards Australia panel member for sunscreen agents. He is a member of the Haleon Australia Pty Ltd Pain Advisory Board. Nial regularly consults to industry on issues to do with medicine risk assessments, manufacturing, design and testing.

Slade Matthews provides scientific evaluations to the Therapeutic Goods Administration as a member of the Therapeutic Goods Assessment and Advisory Panel. Slade serves on the NSW Poisons Advisory Committee for NSW Health as the minister-nominated pharmacologist appointed by the Governor of NSW.

ref. Too much vitamin B6 can be toxic. 3 symptoms to watch out for – https://theconversation.com/too-much-vitamin-b6-can-be-toxic-3-symptoms-to-watch-out-for-260400

How Europe dropped the ball on its own defence and was left fawning over Donald Trump – podcast

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Gemma Ware, Host, The Conversation Weekly Podcast, The Conversation

The language from European leaders was fawning and obsequious. At one point, the head of Nato, Mark Rutte, even called Donald Trump “daddy”. But when the US president left the Nato summit in late June, there was a sigh of relief that he had not made any more angry criticism of the alliance.

After months of American pressure, Nato members – with the exception of Spain – agreed to increase their spending on defence to 5% of GDP by 2035. Trump called it “very big news”, and even reconfirmed his commitment to Nato’s article 5, which means an attack on one Nato country is an attack on them all.

 How did Europe become so unable to defend itself that it was forced to resort to outright flattery of an American president?

In this episode of The Conversation Weekly podcast, we report from the recent Siena Conference on the Europe of the Future in Italy about how the EU dropped the ball on its own defence and what its options are now.

 The European Commission, the executive branch of EU government, only appointed its first commissioner for defence in December 2024. There is no EU army, and no consensus as to whether democratic nations could ever allow one to be built.

But in the period after the second world war, ambitions for a united European defence policy were much grander, as Ana Juncos Garcia, professor of European politics at the University of Bristol in the UK, explains:

There was this idea to establish a European Defence Community which would pool competencies at the national level in defence to the European level, creating a supranational organisation with its own minister of defence, its own military committee.

That failed in 1954 when the French national assembly rejected ratification of the treaty and progress on a pan-European defence strategy stalled. Nato, founded in 1949, became the core military alliance organising Europe’s defence, with the US as its main guarantor.

Ever since, the EU has tried to balance the need for maintaining that transatlantic relationship, and figuring out a way to organise, and procure, its own defence capabilities in a joined up way.

Listen to The Conversation Weekly podcast, which includes interviews with Francesco Grillo, academic fellow in political science at Bocconi University in Italy, and François Lafond, former assistant professor at  Sciences Po University in Paris and former advisor to the Western Balkans on European integration.

This episode of The Conversation Weekly was written and produced by Gemma Ware with assistance from Katie Flood and Mend Mariwany. Mixing and sound design by Eloise Stevens and theme music by Neeta Sarl.

Newsclips in this episode from National Defence, NBC News, CNBCtelevision, Forbes Breaking News, CBS News and Critical Past.

Listen to The Conversation Weekly via any of the apps listed above, download it directly via our RSS feed or find out how else to listen here. A transcript of this episode is available on Apple Podcasts or Spotify.

The Conversation

Ana Juncos Garcia has received UKRI funding for a MSCA Doctoral Network and funding from Horizon Europe, ESRC IAA and WUN. She is also a visiting professor at the College of Europe.

Francesco Grillo is associated to VISION think tank.

ref. How Europe dropped the ball on its own defence and was left fawning over Donald Trump – podcast – https://theconversation.com/how-europe-dropped-the-ball-on-its-own-defence-and-was-left-fawning-over-donald-trump-podcast-260152

Thumbs up: good or passive aggressive? How emojis became the most confusing kind of online language

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Brittany Ferdinands, Lecturer in Digital Content Creation, Discipline of Media and Communications, University of Sydney

The Conversation, CC BY

Emojis, as well as memes and other forms of short-form content, have become central to how we express ourselves and connect online. Yet as meanings shift across different contexts, so too does the potential for misunderstanding.

A senior colleague of mine recently encountered some commentary about the “slightly smiling” face emoji: 🙂

They approached me, asking whether it represented joy, as they had assumed, or if it had a more ominous meaning.

As a chronically-online millennial, who unironically identifies as a gen Z, I bore the news that I, along with most younger internet users, only ever use it sarcastically.

“It doesn’t actually signify happiness – more so fake happiness, or dry humour,” I explained.

I also told them how the thumbs up emoji is often interpreted as passive aggressive, and that the only time I’d use the laughing-crying (“face with tears of joy”) emoji is under duress.

Despite seeming like a universal language – and sometimes they do function that way – emojis can be at once more vague, and more specific, than words. That’s because you can’t separate the meaning of a smiley from the person who sent it, nor from the person receiving it.

Markers of age and identity

While emojis were originally developed in the late 1990s by Japanese artist Shigetaka Kurita to add emotional nuance to text-based messaging, their function has since evolved.

Today, emojis are not just emotional cues; they also operate as cultural symbols and markers of identity.

Research published last year highlights how these symbols can create subtle communication barriers across age groups. For instance, a study of Chinese-speaking WeChat users found younger and older people differed not only in how frequently they used emojis, but in how they interpreted and aesthetically preferred them.

One emoji that’s increasingly becoming a distinct marker of age is the previously mentioned laughing-crying emoji (😂). Despite being named Oxford Dictionary’s 2015 word of the year, and frequently topping the most-used emoji charts, this smiley is on the decline among gen Z – who decided in 2020 that it wasn’t cool anymore.

Instead, they prefer the skull emoji (💀), which is shorthand for the gen Z catch phrase “I’m dead”. This means something is funny (not that they’re literally deceased).

Such shifts may understandably be perplexing for older generations who are unfamiliar with evolving norms and slang.

A digital body language

Emojis can also take on distinct meanings on different platforms. They are embedded within “platform vernaculars”: the ever-evolving styles of communication that are unique to specific digital spaces.

For example, a thumbs up emoji (👍) from your boss at work is seemingly more acceptable, and less anxiety inducing, than from a romantic interest you’ve just sent a risky text to.

This dilemma was echoed in a recent viral TikTok by user @kaitlynghull, which prompted thousands to comment about their shared confusion over emoji use in the workplace.

This reaction highlights a deeper communication issue.

A survey of 10,000 workers across the US, France, Germany, India and Australia, conducted by YouGov and software company Atlassian, found 65% of workers used emojis to convey tone in the workplace. But while 88% of gen Z workers thought emojis were helpful, this dropped to 49% for baby boomers and gen X.

The survey concluded some emojis can be interpreted in multiple ways, and these double meanings aren’t always safe for work.

In with the ‘it’ crowd

Another example of platform-specific emoji use comes from social media content creators who deploy emojis to curate a certain aesthetic.

Under the Tiktok tag #emojicombo, you’ll find thousands of videos showcasing emoji combinations that provide aesthetic “inspo”. These combinations are used to represent different online identities or subcultures, such as “that girl”, “clean girl” or “old money”.

Users may include the combinations in their captions or videos to signal their personal style, or to express the mood or vibe of their online persona. In this way, the emojis help shape how they present themselves on the platform.

This example of emoji use is also a display of symbolic capital. It signals social alignment, in an environment where a user’s visibility (and popularity) is determined by their platform fluency.

Emojis, then, aren’t just tools for expression. They are badges of identity that index where a user stands in the online cultural hierarchy.

There’s a fragmentation in how we relate

A single emoji might communicate irony, sincerity or sarcasm, depending on who is using it, what platform they’re using it on, and what generation they belong to.

This gap points to deeper questions around online access and participation, and the systems that shape online cultures.

And when the meaning of an emoji is platform-dependent and socially stratified, it can become as much about fitting in with a cultural in-group than conveying emotion.

The Conversation

Brittany Ferdinands 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. Thumbs up: good or passive aggressive? How emojis became the most confusing kind of online language – https://theconversation.com/thumbs-up-good-or-passive-aggressive-how-emojis-became-the-most-confusing-kind-of-online-language-259151

Scientists look to black holes to know exactly where we are in the Universe. But phones and wifi are blocking the view

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Lucia McCallum, Senior Scientist in Geodesy, University of Tasmania

ESA / Hubble / L. Calçada (ESO), CC BY

The scientists who precisely measure the position of Earth are in a bit of trouble. Their measurements are essential for the satellites we use for navigation, communication and Earth observation every day.

But you might be surprised to learn that making these measurements – using the science of geodesy – depends on tracking the locations of black holes in distant galaxies.

The problem is, the scientists need to use specific frequency lanes on the radio spectrum highway to track those black holes.

And with the rise of wifi, mobile phones and satellite internet, travel on that highway is starting to look like a traffic jam.

Why we need black holes

Satellites and the services they provide have become essential for modern life. From precision navigation in our pockets to measuring climate change, running global supply chains and making power grids and online banking possible, our civilisation cannot function without its orbiting companions.

To use satellites, we need to know exactly where they are at any given time. Precise satellite positioning relies on the so-called “global geodesy supply chain”.

This supply chain starts by establishing a reliable reference frame as a basis for all other measurements. Because satellites are constantly moving around Earth, Earth is constantly moving around the Sun, and the Sun is constantly moving through the galaxy, this reference frame needs to be carefully calibrated via some relatively fixed external objects.

As it turns out, the best anchor points for the system are the black holes at the hearts of distant galaxies, which spew out streams of radiation as they devour stars and gas.

These black holes are the most distant and stable objects we know. Using a technique called very long baseline interferometry, we can use a network of radio telescopes to lock onto the black hole signals and disentangle Earth’s own rotation and wobble in space from the satellites’ movement.

Different lanes on the radio highway

We use radio telescopes because we want to detect the radio waves coming from the black holes. Radio waves pass cleanly through the atmosphere and we can receive them during day and night and in all weather conditions.

Radio waves are also used for communication on Earth – including things such as wifi and mobile phones. The use of different radio frequencies – different lanes on the radio highway – is closely regulated, and a few narrow lanes are reserved for radio astronomy.

However, in previous decades the radio highway had relatively little traffic. Scientists commonly strayed from the radio astronomy lanes to receive the black hole signals.

To reach the very high precision needed for modern technology, geodesy today relies on more than just the lanes exclusively reserved for astronomy.

Radio traffic on the rise

In recent years, human-made electromagnetic pollution has vastly increased. When wifi and mobile phone services emerged, scientists reacted by moving to higher frequencies.

However, they are running out of lanes. Six generations of mobile phone services (each occupying a new lane) are crowding the spectrum, not to mention internet connections directly sent by a fleet of thousands of satellites.

Today, the multitude of signals are often too strong for geodetic observatories to see through them to the very weak signals emitted by black holes. This puts many satellite services at risk.

What can be done?

To keep working into the future – to maintain the services on which we all depend – geodesy needs some more lanes on the radio highway. When the spectrum is divided up via international treaties at world radio conferences, geodesists need a seat at the table.

Other potential fixes might include radio quiet zones around our essential radio telescopes. Work is also underway with satellite providers to avoid pointing radio emissions directly at radio telescopes.

Any solution has to be global. For our geodetic measurements, we link radio telescopes together from all over the world, allowing us to mimic a telescope the size of Earth. The radio spectrum is primarily regulated by each nation individually, making this a huge challenge.

But perhaps the first step is increasing awareness. If we want satellite navigation to work, our supermarkets to be stocked and our online money transfers arriving safely, we need to make sure we have a clear view of those black holes in distant galaxies – and that means clearing up the radio highway.

The Conversation

Lucia McCallum 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. Scientists look to black holes to know exactly where we are in the Universe. But phones and wifi are blocking the view – https://theconversation.com/scientists-look-to-black-holes-to-know-exactly-where-we-are-in-the-universe-but-phones-and-wifi-are-blocking-the-view-259977

On her new album, Lorde creates pop at its purest – performative, playful and alive to paradox

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Rosemary Overell, Senior Lecturer in Communication Studies, University of Otago

✏️Describe the vibe” goes the demand to commenters underneath the YouTube video for Lorde’s latest single, “Hammer”. Fans form a flow; a “vibe check” in Zillenial parlance:

The pure rawness … (@lynmariegm)

A more raw true-to-self form … (@m3lodr4matic)

This is pure art … (@anishm-g1r)

Lorde’s 2013 debut album was titled Pure Heroine. But, she tells us – and fans and critics agree – Virgin is the first album which “does not lie”. Pure pop. Not lying is not necessarily synonymous with truth, however. Rather, not lying in the present cultural moment is more akin to the careful articulation of a whole vibe.

For women in particular, truth, authenticity – dare I say realness – mean modulating their feelings, but also a particular calibration and presentation of their bodies in media.

Such a balancing act is captured in that YouTube imperative which moves between the pencil (“✏️”) – the demand to describe – and the “vibe”, the very thing we often find too hard to write down or put into words.

Pop music is often at the nexus of these two seemingly opposite moves. Think about going to a gig and afterwards being asked “how was it?”, and all you can say is “you had to be there”.

Of course it is not so simple. We are always putting our feeling into words – describing all manner of bodily responses. Lorde herself sings in “Broken Glass” about how her eating disordered body was marked by language: the “arithmetic” of calorie counting. Elsewhere, she lists other social signifiers in which she is enmeshed: daughter (“Favourite Daughter”), siren, saint (“Shapeshifter”).

Words and the body

Nonetheless, the repeated theme in press interviews is that Virgin moves beyond language, towards a pure woman’s body, free of the mark of sexuality. At the same time, the album is also “ravenously horny” according to one review. She is both as pure as a newborn (a “Virgin”), but marked by her sexuality.

The song “Current Affairs” most clearly demonstrates proximity between the sexed body and its description in lyrics. Lorde collapses into her lover’s body (“He spit in my mouth”). But when he breaks her heart, she cannot put into language the hurt. Rather she blames her anguish on the news: “current affairs”.

Pop music and pop culture thrives off the market exchange and saleability of sex, particularly young women’s sex. When I first wrote about Lorde 11 years ago, I pitted her against Miley Cyrus, noting the outrage at Miley’s “growing up” (from Hannah Montana to adulthood), which mapped onto her perceived new working class, tasteless identity.

Against the crass vulgarity of Miley, I argued then, we had the middle-class intellectualism of Lorde. The argument stands. Virgin certainly adds a heightened sexiness to Lorde, but it is far from crude. She is branded, not just by the market (the cost of tour tickets and merchandise), but also by her identity as a tasteful and hip woman.

More fleshy (“wide hips/soft lips” she sings in “GRWM”) than the teen “Royal” of 2012, but still on Universal Music Group’s repertoire and still circulated as an “alt” option for pop fans.

We can also think of Lorde’s collaboration with her current working class alter, and last year’s popstar commodity, Charli XCX. In Lorde’s verse in “Girl, so confusing” she notes Charli is, essentially, a “Chav” – “still a young girl from Essex”. But in the same verse, Lorde shows her awareness of both women’s function on the market:

People say we’re alike

They say we’ve got the same hair

It’s you and me on the coin

The industry loves to spend

This knowing wink to how women move within the pop-culture marketplace produces a different kind of purity, one based on an intimacy between the popstar and her listeners. We all know Lorde’s difference from Charli is about image: the “poet” versus the party girl.

Intimacy as purity is part of what cultural theorist Anna Kornbluh recently dubbed the pressure of “immediacy”, characterised by an apparently ceaseless flow and demand to constantly share images and video of our bodies, afforded by the scroll of social media.

While the depiction of our bodies and selves on screens is fundamental to this moment, according to Kornbluh, we contradictorily lose sight of this screening. Feeling as though we are #NoFilter – present and real. Key to this is the exhibition of our feelings and emotions.

For all women, but particularly those in the public eye, the sharing of these feelings materialise into “coin”. Vulnerability, pleasure, all-the-feels-all-the-time – especially for women – make “bank”.

Intimacy and knowingness

Vulnerability has been a catch-cry in media characterisations of Virgin. Critics and fans equate Lorde’s lyrical confessions and press tour patter with a market-valuable “purity”, equated with immediate access (to quote the YouTube fan above) to a “true-to-self” Lorde.

One of her more amusing (but fitting) press engagements was on Bella Freud’s Fashion Neurosis podcast. On the couch, we hear Lorde, wearing a Yohji Yamamoto blazer, musing about vulnerability, gender and her mother – with the great granddaughter of Sigmund Freud.

Fashion Neurosis: Lorde on the psychiatrist’s couch.

While the Charli XCX track shows Lorde’s intimacy through her knowingness about her role as “coin” for the music industry, the music videos from Virgin offer a more embodied intimacy. The clip for the album’s first single, “What Was That?”, features an extreme closeup inside her mouth. The album cover itself is an X-ray showing her hips and her IUD.

Kornbluh suggests this emphasis on often literal bodily interiors – people’s “insides” – produces an ersatz sense of closeness and sociality, as our relationships become more and more beholden to the alienating circuits of “social” media.

Virgin does not lie. It traces a truth of our times – a paradoxical truth – that we are at our most intimate, our most pure, when we are unmediated, all the while bearing out the imperative to “✏️Describe the vibe” – to mediate and expose ourselves onscreen.

My own vibe check? I love the album. It is pop at its purest – performative, playful and certainly worth paying attention to.

The Conversation

Rosemary Overell 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. On her new album, Lorde creates pop at its purest – performative, playful and alive to paradox – https://theconversation.com/on-her-new-album-lorde-creates-pop-at-its-purest-performative-playful-and-alive-to-paradox-259994

Australia’s cutest mammal is now Australia’s cutest three mammals

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Cameron Dodd, PhD Student in Evolutionary Biology and Taxonomy, The University of Western Australia

The long-eared kultarr (_A. auritus_) is the middle child in terms of body size, but it has by far the biggest ears. Ken Johnson

Australia is home to more than 60 species of carnivorous marsupials in the family Dasyuridae. Almost a quarter of those have only been scientifically recognised in the past 25 years.

Other than the iconic Tasmanian devil, chances are most of these small, fascinating species have slipped under your radar. One of the rarest and most elusive is the kultarr (Antechinomys laniger), a feisty insect-eater found in very low numbers across much of the outback.

To the untrained eye, the kultarr looks very much like a hopping mouse, with long legs, a long tail and a tendency to rest on its hind legs. However, it runs much like a greyhound – but its tiny size and high speed makes it look like it’s hopping.

Kultarr or kultarrs?

Until now, the kultarr was thought to be a single widespread species, ranging from central New South Wales to the Carnarvon Basin on Australia’s west coast. However, a genetic study in 2023 suggested there could be more than one species.

With backing from the Australian Biological Resources Study, our team of researchers from the University of Western Australia, Western Australian Museum and Queensland University of Technology set out to investigate.

We travelled to museums in Adelaide, Brisbane, Darwin, Melbourne, Sydney and Perth to look at every kultarr that had been collected by scientists over the past century. By combining detailed genetic data with body and skull measurements, we discovered the kultarr isn’t one widespread species, but three distinct species.

Three species of kultarrs

The eastern kultarr (A. laniger) is the smallest of the three, with an average body length of about 7.5cm. It’s darker in colour than its relatives, and while its ears are still big, they are nowhere near as big as those of the other two species.

The eastern kultarr is now found on hard clay soils around Cobar in central NSW and north to around Charleville in southern Queensland.

A small mouselike creature.
The eastern kultarr (A. laniger) is the smallest of the three species.
Pat Woolley

The gibber kultarr (A. spenceri) is the largest and stockiest, with an average body length of around 9cm. They are noticeably chunkier than the other two more dainty species, with big heads, thick legs and much longer hindfeet.

As its name suggests, the gibber kultarr is restricted to the extensive stony deserts or “gibber plains” in southwest Queensland and northeast South Australia.

A small mouselike creature.
The gibber kultarr (A. spenceri) is largest and stockiest.
Ken Johnson

The long-eared kultarr (A. auritus) is the middle child in terms of body size, but its ears set it apart. They’re nearly as long as its head.

It’s found in patchy populations in the central and western sandy deserts, living on isolated stony plains.

A very cute mouse-like animal in front of a fallen branch.
The long-eared kultarr (A. auritus) is the middle child in terms of body size, but it has by far the biggest ears.
Ken Johnson

Are they threatened?

All three species of kultarr are hard to find, making it difficult to confidently estimate population sizes and evaluate extinction risk. The long-eared and gibber kultarrs don’t appear to be in immediate danger, but land clearing and invasive predators such as cats and foxes have likely affected their numbers.

Map of Australia showing past and present ranges of the three species of kultarr.
The three species of kultarr seem to now inhabit smaller areas than in the past.
Cameron Dodd

The eastern kultarr, however, is more of a concern. By looking at museum specimens going back all the way to the 1890s, we found it was once much more widespread.

Historic records suggest the eastern kultarr used to occur across the entirety of arid NSW and even spread north through central Queensland and into the Northern Territory. We now think this species may be extinct in the NT and parts of northwest Queensland.

What’s next?

To protect kultarrs into the future, we need targeted surveys to confirm where each species still survives, especially the eastern kultarr, whose current range may be just a shadow of its former extent. With better knowledge, we can prioritise conservation actions where they’re most needed, and ensure these remarkable, long-legged hunters don’t disappear before we truly get to know them.

Australia still has many small mammal species that haven’t been formally described. Unless we identify and name them, they remain invisible in conservation policy.

Taxonomic research like this is essential – we can’t protect what we don’t yet know exists. And without action, some species may disappear before they’re ever officially recognised.


The authors wish to acknowledge the important contributions of Adjunct Professor Mike Westerman at La Trobe University to the research discussed in this article.

The Conversation

Cameron Dodd receives funding from the Australian Biological Resources Study and Society of Australian Systematic Biologists.

Andrew M. Baker receives funding from the Federal Government, State Governments, Australian Biological Resources Study and various Industry sources.

Kenny Travouillon receives funding from Australian Biological Resources Study.

Linette Umbrello receives funding from the Australian Biological Resources Study (ABRS) National Taxonomy Research Grant Program (NTRGP)

Renee Catullo 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. Australia’s cutest mammal is now Australia’s cutest three mammals – https://theconversation.com/australias-cutest-mammal-is-now-australias-cutest-three-mammals-260006