Dependants? Why Canada should recognize migrant spouses and partners with more accuracy

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Goodnews I. Oshiogbele, PhD Student, Sociology, Western University, Western University

What comes to mind when you hear the word “dependant?” A child relying on a parent, or an elderly family member needing care? In Canada’s immigration system, the term is applied much more broadly than that.

It includes all spouses and common-law partners of immigrants or principal applicants, regardless of whether they rely financially on their significant other or not. According to Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada’s (IRCC) current definition, a dependant is “a spouse, common-law partner or dependent child of a permanent resident or principal applicant.”

On paper, this seems neutral and clear. But in practice, it flattens the diverse realities of migrant families.

This definition does not adequately reflect the diverse experiences of many accompanying spouses and partners who are highly skilled, financially independent, co-providers — or even the primary breadwinners — in their households.

“Dependant” as a catch-all term

Words matter in immigration policy because they shape perceptions, and those perceptions shape policies, which in turn shape identities.

Generally, the term “dependant” carries connotations of financial reliance, vulnerability and even passivity. Labelling all spouses and partners “dependants” suggests they are passive followers rather than active contributors, not only in family migration decisions but also in immigrant integration outcomes such as socioeconomic standing and a sense of recognition and belonging.

As one principal applicant and migrant partner in London, Ont., shared with me in an interview for this piece regarding her family’s experience using IRCC’s online application portal:

“The application page was confusing because of the word ‘dependant.’ For us, my partner is never a dependant. He has a secure job and earns more than I do. We are a dual-income household and no one is an economic dependant. So, when I saw the word ‘dependant’ on the website, I wondered if I was on the wrong website and thought it was application information for children or older parents who are true dependants.”

Furthermore, research tells us a different story that challenges the dependant label.

A Statistics Canada study found that many spouses and common-law partners of economic immigrants had similar qualifications to the principal applicants, partly thanks to what sociologists call “positive assortative mating” or homogamy. This concept refers to the tendency for people to enter romantic relationships with partners of similar background or social status.

Similarly, research by immigration and family economist Ana Ferrer and the Pew Research Center suggests that immigrant wives in professional households frequently contribute income comparable to or greater than their husbands, challenging the idea of passive dependency.

Furthermore, some accompanying spouses enter the workforce faster than their principal applicant spouses. This is common in situations where, for example, the principal applicant is retraining or seeking credential recognition. Many others contribute financially across borders, sending remittances to family members living abroad.

A matter of equity and inclusion

This issue is not simply about accuracy in terminology, although that is essential. It is also about inadvertently classifying others unfairly, promoting gender inequality and marginalizing some migrant family members.

Most accompanying spouses and partners are women and labelling them uniformly as dependants even when they include co-providers and primary earners, reinforces outdated stereotypes.

Migrant male spouses and partners also face their own identity struggles, despite their qualifications.

Statistics Canada data reveals persistent gender differences in labour market outcomes among newcomers, with immigrant women having a labour force participation rate of 78.2 per cent in 2021, significantly lower than the 90.2 per cent for immigrant men. While this arguably reflects global gender norms that many migrant families bring with them, it could also be linked with their sense of identity.

Canada prides itself on being a leader in immigration policy and in creating an inclusive society. Therefore, while other long-established immigration systems across the globe may continue to use this term this way, IRCC could consider clarifying it. Currently, the dependant label may unintentionally reinforce perceptions of dependency that do not reflect the evolving realities of modern migrant families.

Making invisible contributions visible

Gendered assumptions about who earns, who cares and who follows continue to shape how immigrant families are represented, and, in turn, treated by institutions. In addition to ongoing commendable efforts to make Canada more gender-inclusive, a long-term rectification of this issue requires more societal refinement in how we think about gender and work among newcomers.

Addressing this issue constructively would involve both policy reflection and a broader social conversation. In policy terms, it begins with precision — recognizing that not all spouses or partners depend economically on the principal applicant. In social terms, it means valuing the visible and invisible work migrants do, whether it is paid labour, unpaid care or transnational remittances.

In the meantime, here’s a simple fix that can address the semantic problem: In its current definition of a dependant, IRCC already distinguishes between dependent children and non-dependent adult children. The department could consider a similar approach for accompanying spouses and partners.

A small but meaningful change — such as specifying “a dependent spouse or common-law partner” — could help clarify the definition and better reflect the realities of today’s migrant families. For those affected, it will help improve their sense of identity, how they are perceived in public, the bureaucratic policies and practices affecting them and their overall integration experiences.

Alternatively, particularly in the immigration application system, the term dependant could be replaced with “secondary applicant” or “accompanying family member” to clearly distinguish the principal applicant from those accompanying them. While IRCC may have operational considerations, exploring better alternatives could lead to significant systemic improvements.

The Conversation

Goodnews I. Oshiogbele is a member of the International Union for the Scientific Study of Population (IUSSP) and the Canadian Population Society (CPS).

ref. Dependants? Why Canada should recognize migrant spouses and partners with more accuracy – https://theconversation.com/dependants-why-canada-should-recognize-migrant-spouses-and-partners-with-more-accuracy-265744

« L’art de la guerre » de Sun Tzu, ou comment vaincre en évitant le combat

Source: The Conversation – in French – By Scott D. McDonald, Assistant Professor, University of North Georgia; Non-resident Fellow, Asia-Pacific Center for Security Studies, University of North Georgia

Une copie de _l’Art de la guerre_, de Sun Tzu, appartenant à l’Université de Californie. vlasta2/Flickr, CC BY-NC-ND

Que nous enseigne le traité de stratégie militaire écrit en Chine il y a 2 500 ans ? Nourri de culture taoïste, Sun Tzu incite à utiliser le potentiel général des situations en intervenant le moins possible sur le champ de bataille. On fait plus pour nuire au potentiel d’un adversaire en sapant son plan qu’en tuant ses soldats.


Au milieu des années 1990, j’ai lu le classique militaire l’Art de la guerre » avec l’espoir de trouver des éclairages utiles pour ma nouvelle carrière d’officier des Marines des États-Unis.

Je n’étais pas le seul à chercher des idées auprès du sage Sun Tzu, mort il y a plus de 2 500 ans. L’Art de la guerre a longtemps été utilisé pour comprendre la tradition stratégique de la Chine comme des vérités militaires universelles. Les maximes du livre, telles que « connaître l’ennemi et se connaître soi-même », sont régulièrement citées dans les textes militaires, ainsi que dans les livres d’affaires et de gestion.

Au début, je fus déçu. Il m’a semblé que les conseils de Sun Tzu relevaient du bon sens ou étaient en accord avec les classiques militaires occidentaux. Cependant, quelques années plus tard, les Marines m’ont formé comme spécialiste de la Chine, et j’ai passé une grande partie de ma carrière à travailler sur la politique américaine dans la région indopacifique. Cela a renforcé mon désir de comprendre comment les dirigeants de la République populaire de Chine (RPC) voient le monde et choisissent leurs stratégies. En quête d’éclaircissements, je me suis tourné vers la philosophie chinoise classique et j’ai finalement rencontré des concepts qui m’ont aidé à mieux comprendre la perspective unique proposée par l’Art de la guerre, de Sun Tzu.

Aujourd’hui, je suis un universitaire et je travaille à l’intersection de la philosophie chinoise et de la politique étrangère. Pour comprendre l’Art de la guerre, il est important que les lecteurs abordent le texte à partir de la vision du monde de son auteur. Cela signifie lire les conseils de Sun Tzu à travers le prisme de la métaphysique chinoise classique qui est profondément façonnée par le taoïsme.

Les racines taoïstes

La tradition intellectuelle de la Chine est enracinée dans la période des Royaumes combattants du Ve au IIIe siècle avant notre ère, époque à laquelle Sun Tzu aurait vécu. Il s’agissait d’une période de conflit mais aussi de développement culturel et intellectuel qui a vu émerger le taoïsme et le confucianisme.

Une peinture patinée représentant un homme asiatique avec une petite barbe et une moustache, vêtu d’une robe jaune et noire
Les écrits de Sun Tzu ont eu un impact significatif sur la politique chinoise et étrangère.
History/Universal Images Group/Getty Images

La philosophie confucéenne se focalise sur le maintien de relations sociales appropriées comme clé du comportement moral et de l’harmonie sociale. Le taoïsme, en revanche, s’intéresse davantage à la métaphysique : il cherche à comprendre le fonctionnement du monde naturel et à en tirer des analogies sur la façon dont les humains devraient agir.

Le taoïsme considère l’existence comme composée de cycles de changement constants dans lesquels la puissance croît et décroît. Le Tào, ou « la Voie » dirige toutes les choses de la nature vers la réalisation de leur potentiel inhérent, par exemple l’eau qui coule vers le bas.

Aider la nature à suivre son cours

Le mot chinois pour ce concept de « potentiel situationnel » est 勢, ou « shì » – qui est aussi le nom du chapitre cinq de l’Art de la guerre. Presque toutes les versions occidentales le traduisent différemment, mais c’est la clé des concepts militaires employés par Sun Tzu.

Par exemple, le chapitre cinq explique que ceux qui sont « experts de la guerre » ne se préoccupent pas outre mesure des soldats pris individuellement. Au contraire, les dirigeants efficaces sont capables de déterminer le potentiel d’une situation et d’en tirer parti.

C’est pourquoi les chapitres suivants passent tant de temps à discuter de la géographie et du déploiement des forces, plutôt que des techniques de combat. On fait plus pour nuire au potentiel d’un adversaire en sapant son plan qu’en tuant simplement ses soldats. Sun Tzu s’inquiète des chaînes d’approvisionnement trop longues car elles réduisent le potentiel d’une armée en la rendant plus difficile à déplacer et vulnérable aux perturbations. Un général qui comprend le potentiel peut évaluer les troupes, le terrain et le plan, puis organiser le champ de bataille de manière à « soumettre l’ennemi sans combattre ».

Une peinture chinoise représentant une scène de bataille, avec des soldats en tenue bleue et un texte dans le coin supérieur droit
Peinture représentant une bataille entre les forces chinoises et vietnamiennes lors de l’invasion du Vietnam par la dynastie Qing en 1788.
History/Universal Images Group/Getty Images

Dans la pensée taoïste, la bonne façon de gérer le potentiel de chaque situation est d’agir avec 無為, « wúwéi », ce qui se traduit littéralement par « non-action ». Cependant, l’idée clé est de perturber l’ordre naturel le moins possible pour permettre au potentiel de la situation de se réaliser. Le terme n’apparaît pas dans l’Art de la guerre, mais un lecteur contemporain de Sun Tzu aurait été familier avec ces deux concepts de « shì » de « wúwéi ».

L’importance d’agir avec le « wúwéi » est illustrée par le philosophe confucéen Mencius qui raconte l’histoire d’un agriculteur qui aurait tiré sur ses tiges de maïs pour les aider à pousser et qui a tué sa récolte. On n’aide pas le maïs à pousser en le forçant mais en comprenant son potentiel naturel et en agissant en conséquence : s’assurer que le sol est bon, que les mauvaises herbes sont enlevées et que l’eau est suffisante. Les actions sont efficaces lorsqu’elles nourrissent le potentiel, non lorsqu’elles tentent de le forcer.

Du champ de bataille à l’ONU

Dans une perspective taoïste, les dirigeants qui espèrent élaborer une stratégie efficace doivent lire la situation, en découvrir le potentiel et positionner leurs armées ou États de manière à tirer le meilleur parti du « shì ». Ils agissent avec « wúwéi » pour cultiver des situations, plutôt que de les forcer, ce qui pourrait perturber l’ordre naturel et provoquer le chaos.

Ainsi, en politique étrangère, un décideur devrait s’efforcer d’apporter de petits ajustements politiques le plus tôt possible afin de gérer progressivement l’évolution de l’environnement international. Cette approche est évidente dans l’utilisation du « guānxì » par Pékin. Signifiant « relations », le terme chinois porte un fort sens d’obligation mutuelle.

Par exemple, la République populaire de Chine (RPC) a mené des décennies d’efforts pour reprendre à Taïwan le siège de la Chine aux Nations unies. Pékin y est parvenu en nouant lentement des amitiés, en identifiant des intérêts stratégiques communs et en accumulant des faveurs auprès de nombreux petits États du monde entier, jusqu’à ce qu’en 1971, elle obtienne suffisamment de voix à l’Assemblée générale de l’Organisation des Nations unies (ONU).

Et aujourd’hui ?

Le concept de « shì » permet également de comprendre la pression croissante de la RPC sur Taïwan, une île autonome que Pékin revendique comme son propre territoire.

Une scène nocturne représentant la silhouette d’un char d’assaut avec des gratte-ciel illuminés au loin
Un char taïwanais utilisé lors de conflits antérieurs et exposé aux touristes à Kinmen (Taïwan) se détache sur la silhouette de la ville continentale de Xiamen.
Chris McGrath/Getty Images

Sun Tzu dirait peut-être que discerner la tendance actuelle dans le détroit de Taïwan est plus essentiel que les questions conventionnelles sur la puissance militaire comparée. Plusieurs facteurs pourraient rapprocher Taïwan de Pékin, notamment la perte d’alliés diplomatiques de l’île et l’attraction de la vaste économie de la RPC – sans parler de l’influence mondiale croissante de Pékin face aux États-Unis. Si c’est le cas, le « shì » est en faveur de Pékin, et un coup de pouce pour persuader les États-Unis de rester en dehors du sujet est tout ce qui est nécessaire pour faire évoluer la situation en faveur de la RPC.

Doit-on, au contraire, considérer que le « shì » se développe dans l’autre sens ? Des facteurs tels que le sentiment croissant d’identité taïwanaise, les perturbations économiques de la RPC pourraient rendre le rapprochement avec la chine continentale moins attrayant pour Taïwan. Dans ce cas, Pékin pourrait estimer devoir apparaître fort et dominant afin que l’île n’entretienne pas l’idée d’un appui de Washington.

Une lecture superficielle de Sun Tzu peut mettre l’accent sur le déploiement de troupes, le renseignement et la logistique. Cependant, la compréhension du « shì » met en lumière l’importance que Sun Tzu accorde à l’évaluation et à l’enrichissement du potentiel situationnel. Il ne s’agit pas de dire que les premiers points sont sans importance, mais un décideur les utilisera différemment si l’objectif est de gérer les tendances situationnelles plutôt que de rechercher une bataille décisive.

Le fait que l’Art de la guerre continue d’être en tête des ventes de livres démontre son attrait durable. Cependant, pour qu’il soit utile comme guide stratégique et de politique de sécurité, mon expérience m’indique qu’il faut s’imprégner des principes qui ont façonné la vision du monde de Sun Tzu et qui continuent de façonner celle des dirigeants de Pékin.

The Conversation

Scott D. McDonald reçoit des financements de la Fondation Sara Scaife, de l’Institut Eisenhower, de la Fondation Charles Koch et du ministère des Affaires étrangères de Taïwan.

ref. « L’art de la guerre » de Sun Tzu, ou comment vaincre en évitant le combat – https://theconversation.com/lart-de-la-guerre-de-sun-tzu-ou-comment-vaincre-en-evitant-le-combat-259342

Peut-on rendre la forêt « nourricière » ? La proposition du jardin-forêt

Source: The Conversation – in French – By Jacques Tassin, Chercheur en écologie forestière (HDR), spécialiste des rapports Homme / Nature, Cirad

Issu des régions tropicales, le jardin-forêt est un modèle d’agroforesterie qui séduit de plus en plus en Europe pour prendre le contrepied d’un modèle agricole à bout de souffle. Il semble peu envisageable qu’il se substitue à l’agriculture productiviste dominante, mais il ouvre des pistes inspirantes pour promouvoir des pratiques plus respectueuses du vivant.


Les analyses se multiplient aujourd’hui pour dénoncer les externalités négatives (pollution, changement climatique, crise de la biodiversité…) induites par le paradigme économique actuel. Le modèle agricole dominant, en particulier, est pointé du doigt.

En effet, les systèmes agroalimentaires dominants s’avèrent coûteux à bien des égards. Ils substituent à des processus naturels répondant à des fonctions écologiques précieuses des intrants à fort impact environnemental (engrais par exemple), ils uniformisent les modes de culture, ils mettent à disposition du consommateur une alimentation d’une qualité nutritive questionnable, et enfin ils dévitalisent les tissus sociaux ruraux.

À rebours de cette logique productiviste, d’autres formes d’agriculture, parfois très anciennes, suscitent dès lors un regain d’intérêt. C’est le cas du modèle jardin-forêt, qui se développe peu à peu en Europe. Il est une transposition géographique en milieux tempérés de l’agroforesterie des tropiques humides, notamment indonésiennes.

Là-bas, l’agriculture vivrière et une partie de l’agriculture commerciale des petits planteurs sont conduites en pérennisant le modèle forestier traditionnel – fruits, légumes, noix, tubercules, plantes médicinales, matériaux, bois de feu ou de construction y sont produits au sein d’écosystèmes arborés multi-étagés, diversifiés et denses.

Structurés autour des arbres et de leur diversité, les jardins-forêts partagent avec les forêts naturelles des caractéristiques de robustesse, de résilience et de productivité. Multipliant les externalités positives (c’est-à-dire, des effets positifs tant d’ordre écologiques qu’économiques), ce modèle millénaire nourricier représente une voie inspirante qui vaudrait d’être davantage connue et considérée sous nos latitudes.

Il est fondé sur la polyvalence des forêts. Les jardins-forêts montrent que les arbres et les systèmes forestiers, dont les capacités de production, de régulation, de facilitation et de symbiose sont mésestimées, peuvent être bien plus productifs que nous le croyons.




À lire aussi :
Pour des forêts à croissance rapide, favorisez les arbres à croissance lente


Des « forêts comestibles » aux antipodes des monocultures

Aussi surnommés « forêts comestibles », les jardins-forêts se caractérisent par une forte densité d’arbres, d’arbustes, mais aussi de lianes et d’herbacées, tous de lumière et d’ombre, et tous d’intérêt alimentaire.

Clairière potagère dans un jardin-forêt à vocation domestique.
Fabrice Desjours, Fourni par l’auteur

Ils sont donc multifonctionnels. En témoignent par exemple :

  • leur productivité à l’hectare,

  • l’agencement spatial de leurs éléments constitutifs,

  • leur composition très diversifiée en termes d’espèces,

  • la richesse des mutualismes entre espèces,

  • Leur performance leur dynamisme et leur robustesse en tant que système de production alimentaire.

Ils sont à l’opposé des monocultures, qui sont spatialement et génétiquement homogènes. Celles-ci sont fondées sur la culture d’une seule variété, et souffrent dès lors une vulnérabilité maximale aux aléas. En jardin-forêt, les invasions d’insectes ravageurs ou les dégâts d’intempéries, pour ne citer que ces exemples, sont réduits en raison d’une importante hétérogénéité structurale et d’une faible exposition aux aléas. Des caractéristiques précieuses dans le contexte de dérèglement climatique.

Dans la forêt comestible de Ketelbroek (Pays-Bas), tout semble pousser de façon chaotique, mais il y a un plan.
Sabine Aldenhoff/LZ Rhénanie

Ces systèmes nourriciers sont aujourd’hui une réalité éprouvée, y compris en Europe. Aux Pays-Bas par exemple, des jardins-forêts à vocation agricole affirmée existent depuis quinze ans, financés par la politique agricole commune.




À lire aussi :
Incendies, sécheresses, ravageurs : les forêts victimes de la monoculture


Une production agricole à hauteur d’humain

Un autre point fort de cette alternative agricole est son échelle à hauteur humaine. En effet, le jardin-forêt envisage le parcellaire cultivé, dans ses dimensions spatiales comme dans les pratiques dont il fait l’objet, autour de la mesure étalon de la personne qui en prend soin.

Les recours à l’observation et au soin, de même que l’accumulation patiente de connaissances pratiques, y sont largement promus. Ils permettent une réactivité accrue et plus adaptée aux aléas, environnementaux mais aussi économiques.

Le « jardinier-forestier » est dès lors convié à se pencher sur son terrain à différentes échelles : du contrôle de la qualité des tissus mycorhiziens (c’est-à-dire, les champignons agissant en symbiose avec les racines) du sol jusqu’à la surveillance de la complémentarité permanente des strates de végétation.

La diversité ne se joue pas qu’à l’échelle d’une forêt comestible, mais aussi à l’échelle d’un territoire. A l’image du bocage, un réseau de jardins-forêts divers est pourvoyeur de services écosystémiques complets. Ils peuvent également s’insérer dans le tissu agricole et compenser une partie des impacts environnementaux néfastes induits par le modèle agricole dominant.

Un seul espace, des productions multiples

Par essence, le jardin-forêt offre une large diversité alimentaire. Pour rappel, seules 30 à 60 espèces végétales tout au plus assurent la base de notre alimentation occidentale, dont quelques espèces seulement de céréales. Une partie de cette alimentation est importée (avocats, ananas ou bananes), alors que 7 000 espèces alimentaires sont cultivables en climat tempéré, sans renfort technique particulier. Le modèle du jardin-forêt s’avère apte à les valoriser.

Les « forêts comestibles » sont en effet des espaces de multiproduction où sur une même parcelle peuvent se déployer quatre types de produits différents :

  • Les aliments « forestibles » dans lesquels ont peut inclure fruits, noix et graines, ressources tuberculeuses amidonnées ou riches en inuline, légumes, feuilles, feuillages, fleurs, champignons, épices, sirop de sève, viande sauvage ou domestique en cas de petit élevage, ou encore produits de la ruche (miel, pollen, propolis) ;

  • les biomatériaux (bois de construction, bambou, osier, gommes, cires, résines, liants, latex, papier, tinctoriales) ;

  • les ressources médicinales provenant de tous les étages végétaux de la forêt comestible ;

  • et enfin les combustibles (bois énergie, copeaux, fagots).




À lire aussi :
Pharma, cosmétique… et si les déchets végétaux aidaient à développer l’économie circulaire ?


Une porte vers d’autres imaginaires

Les jardins-forêts ne se limitent pas à la seule production de biens alimentaires et de services environnementaux. Ils offrent également des ressources immatérielles dont nous avions fini par croire qu’elles ne pouvaient être compatibles avec une agriculture performante.

En effet, ces espaces créent aussi les conditions pour d’autres imaginaires. Ils sont le support d’activités diverses (artisanales, éducatives, thérapeutiques, culturelles) favorables au mieux-être. Ces services immatériels peuvent concourir à transformer les zones rurales en espaces plus désirables et plus habitables, voire à les reterritorialiser. La psychologie atteste en outre des bienfaits des arbres sur le bien-être humain.

En France, les jardins-forêts recouvrent environ 2 000 hectares. Peu connus du grand public, des institutions et des pouvoirs publics, ils se heurtent à une vision encore archaïque de la forêt, vue comme aux antipodes de la civilisation, et à une réticence à valoriser des ressources alimentaires parfois rattachées dans les imaginaires aux périodes de famine.

Il leur est également reproché d’inviter à un relâchement des pratiques conventionnelles de contrôle du vivant habituellement exercées en agriculture (taille, fertilisation, contrôle direct des ravageurs…), auxquelles est ici préférée, pour des raisons de durabilité et d’efficience économique, une philosophie de l’accompagnement et de l’amplification des processus écologiques naturels.

S’ils n’ont pas vocation à supplanter les autres systèmes agricoles en place, ils ont toutefois le potentiel de redynamiser et resocialiser les campagnes. De quoi développer de nouvelles activités rurales exigeantes mais porteuses de sens et pourvoyeuses de bien-être. C’est précisément là une demande sociale et une exigence environnementale de plus en plus pressantes.


Fondateur de l’association Forêt gourmande, Fabrice Desjours a contribué à la rédaction de cet article.

The Conversation

Michon Geneviève a reçu des financements de ANR, UE.

Jacques Tassin 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. Peut-on rendre la forêt « nourricière » ? La proposition du jardin-forêt – https://theconversation.com/peut-on-rendre-la-foret-nourriciere-la-proposition-du-jardin-foret-265918

Seen but not forgotten: How citizen science helps document biodiversity in remote Borneo villages

Source: The Conversation – Indonesia – By Erik Meijaard, Honorary Professor of Conservation, University of Kent

When I, Erik Meijaard, worked as a wildlife consultant for a timber concession in Borneo, I often chatted with the logging truck drivers — and quickly realised that some of them knew far more about local wildlife populations than the company’s own biodiversity teams.

“If you want to see clouded leopards, ride with me in my truck — I can almost guarantee we’ll spot one or two near kilometre 38 around two in the morning,” one of the drivers told me at the time.

I didn’t spot the elusive cats that night, but two years later, early one morning, I finally found one sitting calmly beside a logging road. The driver had been right all along: these leopards really do like the roads.

Logging truck drivers spend countless hours on the road, travelling deep into remote forests. They often see wildlife, yet no one asks them about it — because spotting animals isn’t part of their job. Our programmes change that, allowing anyone with an interest in tropical wildlife to contribute their observations.

Since then, I have relied heavily on community-sourced information to monitor wildlife populations within company concessions and ensure that emerging threats are quickly detected and addressed.

I began by creating the first orangutan distribution maps in the 1990s through village interviews, later expanding the approach to 700 villages in 2008 to better understand local perceptions of forests and wildlife.

From 2019 to 2025, I ran an oil-palm-plantation–based citizen-science pilot that generated nearly 190,000 wildlife records from 4,000 workers.

These experiences show that some of the most valuable ecological knowledge rests with the people who live closest to the forest — not the scientists who visit only once a year.

How does citizen science work?

Building on that insight, Emily (who co-wrote this article with me) and I introduced a new version of the model for broader study in four villages in the Kapuas Hulu district of West Kalimantan. There, the local community manages the forest under a social forestry scheme.

We worked directly with them. Anyone with a smartphone can record wildlife sightings using our simple mobile app named Kehatiku (which in Indonesian means both “to my heart” and “my biodiversity”). Observations — from orangutan photos to gibbon audio clips — are then uploaded with GPS coordinates.

Each record then goes through a multi-stage verification process: an AI-assisted screen check for duplicate images and location mismatches, followed by review from our team of verifiers and species experts, who cross-reference field guides.

Once a record is verified, we issue a payment to the observer — ranging from around US$0.60 for a bird-call recording to about US$6 for a clear photo or video of a wild orangutan.

Since the citizen science program launched in 2023, 567 participants have recorded more than 58,000 wildlife observations from community forests — at roughly one-twentieth the cost of conventional surveys. The program creates both income and incentives to protect wildlife and their habitats.

What the data reveal?

So far, the data show unexpectedly high numbers of orangutans, gibbons, and many other species in these community forests, including several of global conservation concern.

The most frequently reported wildlife in the four Kapuas Hulu villages includes orangutans (with 9,766 nest records), white-rumped shamas, sun bear signs, long-tailed macaques, and stingless bees.

Direct sightings of Bornean orangutans and regular recordings of gibbon calls confirm that these species persist outside protected areas — even within agricultural landscapes bordering the villages.

This information is invaluable to understand how threatened mammals survive in mixed-use forests, where formal surveys are rare or expensive. We are currently doing critical testing as to whether the data are strong enough to generate statistically robust occupancy estimates — showing how wildlife species use village forest areas.

For plantations, we can already translate these findings into a living index, an important tool for developing data-driven conservation policies and interventions.

Shifting behaviour and social impact

In early 2025, we also collaborated with a local partner to conduct social baseline surveys to assess the program’s socioeconomic impact.

Initial survey results suggest a shift in perception is already underway. More than 70% of residents across the four pilot villages had heard of the initiative, and nearly two-thirds said they are interested in joining.

About a third already earn income from verified wildlife observations — typically US$30 to US$180 every three months, a meaningful supplement in communities where most households live on less than US$120 per month.

More importantly, attitudes toward wildlife are shifting. Where songbirds were once trapped and sold to traders, many villagers now choose to leave them in the forest — realising it’s more profitable to record the birds’ presence and get paid for it.

A model for inclusive, low-cost monitoring

Financial incentives have clearly boosted engagement. Observation rates rose from about 17 per village per month during the voluntary phase to more than 6,000 per month once payments were introduced.

At an average cost of just US$0.85 per observation, this approach is far cheaper than traditional transect or camera-trap surveys, which can cost US$300 per camera or more.

Not only does it reduce logistical costs, but relying on local observers also makes it possible to cover vast, remote areas.

And unlike short-term research projects, this one runs year-round — because the motivation, and the data, come from the community itself.

The programme also strengthens local governance. Regular meetings and WhatsApp groups allow residents to discuss verification results, propose rule changes, and collectively decide how to manage conflicts over shared rewards. We also close the information loop by translating wildlife observations into insights communities can use to guide their decisions.

These interactions, along with transparent payment records, are boosting accountability and participation in broader village decision-making. This transparency has helped build strong trust within the community.

On one occasion, when a participant submitted an internet-sourced photo as fake evidence, the peers insisted on removing them from the project — a proof that data integrity now matters at the community level.

Our local facilitator paying an observer. The program has also seen a recent increase in women’s participation.
Andi Erman

Beyond data: Building ownership and pride

Beyond science, the project is fostering local ownership and pride in nature. For participants, the forest has become a living asset — one that generates income through conservation. That shift in perception may be the most important outcome of all.

With mobile networks and digital payment systems now widespread across Indonesia, this low-cost, scalable model could be expanded to thousands of villages. Citizen science can become a cornerstone of future wildlife conservation — and Indonesia could lead the way in making it happen.

From the truck drivers who spotted clouded leopards in the 1990s to today’s smartphone-armed villagers, the message is clear: science and stewardship thrive when everyone can take part — and be fairly rewarded for it.

The Conversation

Erik Meijaard menerima dana dari Wildlife Futures dan Arcus Foundation

Emily Meijaard bekerja di Borneo Futures Sdn Bhd the organization that developed the citizen science-based monitoring approach discussed in the article

ref. Seen but not forgotten: How citizen science helps document biodiversity in remote Borneo villages – https://theconversation.com/seen-but-not-forgotten-how-citizen-science-helps-document-biodiversity-in-remote-borneo-villages-269621

Ce que l’argot des collégiens nous dit des stéréotypes de genre chez les jeunes

Source: The Conversation – in French – By Anne Gensane, Enseignante chercheuse en sociolinguistique, Université d’Artois

Habiles pour inventer de nouveaux mots, les jeunes s’affranchissent-ils pour autant des stéréotypes de genre ? Une étude sur les pratiques argotiques d’élèves de l’enseignement secondaire nous offre un regard sur la manière dont ils reproduisent ou bousculent les rapports de force sociaux.


Dans une société de plus en plus soucieuse de l’égalité femme-homme, on souhaite que la langue en soit un vecteur. L’écriture inclusive témoigne de ces efforts. Mais qu’en est-il des façons de parler des jeunes ? Intègrent-elles ces préoccupations ? S’affranchissent-elles vraiment des stéréotypes de genre ?

Une étude sociolinguistique de terrain, fondée sur un corpus d’expressions argotiques récoltées dans des établissements du secondaire, permet d’interroger leurs représentations et la manière dont elles s’écartent des normes sociales ou les reproduisent.

Avant tout, il est crucial de rappeler que les jeunes dont nous parlons ne constituent pas une catégorie homogène. Certains viennent des zones périphériques de grandes villes, d’autres de milieux ruraux, ils peuvent connaître ou non des contacts multiculturels… Autant de facteurs qui influencent directement les pratiques linguistiques et la manière dont les stéréotypes de genre sont exprimés et vécus.

Un argot contemporain misogyne ?

Parmi près de 300 termes collectés dans l’étude, un grand nombre évoque directement le corps, notamment sous un angle sexuel. L’étude lexicale montre un déséquilibre quantitatif et qualitatif entre les représentations des corps masculins et féminins. Le sexe masculin est le plus fréquent (« zboub » qui est d’origine arabe, ou « chibre »). Pour ce qui est du corps féminin, il est fréquemment réduit à des métaphores dégradantes ou idéalistes, et cela en dit long sur cette hiérarchie sociale.

On peut citer la métaphore de l’animalité avec des mots comme : « chatte », ou « schnek » qui désigne un escargot en allemand ; la métaphore de la consommation avec, par exemple, « de la peufra » : il s’agit ici du verlan de « frappe », lui-même jouissant d’une signification imagée et pouvant aussi désigner de la drogue de bonne qualité ; ou, très présente, la prostituée : « keh », d’origine arabe, ou « tchoin », d’origine nouchi (un argot ivoirien très présent également dans l’argot contemporain). Ces mots participent de la disqualification sociale des femmes, en les réduisant à leur rôle dans la sexualité masculine.

Mais cet argot contemporain est-il pour autant intrinsèquement misogyne ? Si une grande majorité des termes semblent dévaloriser les femmes, leur usage n’est pas toujours aussi simple. Certaines expressions, comme « avoir de la moule » inversent parfois la hiérarchie, associant le sexe féminin à la chance.

Il apparaît que ce n’est pas tant l’argot en lui-même qui est sexiste ou misogyne, mais les pratiques sociales dans lesquelles il s’inscrit et qui, parfois, évoluent. Les termes suivants illustrent une violence symbolique. La « beurette à chicha » désigne littéralement une jeune femme d’origine maghrébine (« beur » étant le verlan tronqué de « arabe ») présente dans un bar à chicha. Ce que cela signifie vraiment ? Une jeune femme qui est trop visible, tout comme la « tana » (vraisemblablement la forme tronquée de « Ana Montana », personnage de série télévisée).

Ces catégories langagières semblent moins désigner des réalités sociales qu’elles n’organisent une grille de lecture stéréotypée des conduites féminines dans l’espace public. Le fait que ces termes soient employés par d’autres jeunes filles souligne la complexité des mécanismes de reproduction ou de résistance à la norme.

La femme qui dit : une « terreur argotique féministe » ?

Le langage reflète une hiérarchie des genres, où les garçons bénéficient de plus de liberté d’expression que les filles, soumises à un contrôle social important. Ce qui ne veut pas dire qu’il n’y a pas de contrôle d’un autre type chez les garçons ; on peut observer que ce phénomène s’inscrit notamment dans une certaine valorisation de la virilité, tant physique que linguistique (on pense aussi aux insultes féminisantes).

Avoir recours à une certaine hexis corporelle (manière de se tenir, de s’habiller…) et à un langage cru serait une forme de manifestation de la virilité et, alors, un moyen de marquer la distinction sociale attendue. En revanche, les femmes sont traditionnellement perçues comme plus élégantes lorsqu’elles adoptent des normes linguistiques plus prestigieuses, rejetant les formes de langage populaire pour exprimer une identité sociale différente, voire opposée à celle des hommes.

Parler d’une « terreur argotique féministe » sur le modèle de l’ouvrage d’Irene n’est peut-être pas si exagéré. À la suite de l’autrice, il s’agirait de réfléchir à la place que détient la violence dans la lutte contre les inégalités. Certaines jeunes filles se réapproprient des termes plutôt vulgaires pour affirmer leur autorité, parfois pour choquer ou pour se défendre dans un environnement marqué par la domination masculine.

Ainsi, des expressions comme « avoir les couilles » sont utilisées par des filles revendiquant par la même occasion une forme de pouvoir symboliquement associé aux hommes. Mais ne reproduiraient-elles pas, dans le même temps, cette discrimination stéréotypée ?

Le langage des jeunes filles est un terrain plus complexe qu’il n’y paraît. Certaines collégiennes de Cergy (Val-d’Oise) enregistrées dans le Multicultural Paris French, un grand corpus oral, expliquent qu’elles utilisent ces termes violents ou grossiers pour s’adapter à un univers où les garçons imposent leur domination. Simone de Beauvoir affirme que c’est potentiellement en s’assimilant à ces modes de fonctionnement masculin que la femme s’affranchira.

Le langage devient un réflexe dans un environnement symboliquement hostile, une manière de se défendre face à un monde qui attend des filles qu’elles soient discrètes. L’usage d’un langage perçu comme masculin peut être dès lors défensif. Mais est-ce bien pour autant une volonté desdits garçons d’être agressifs ?

Un conservatisme linguistique pudique ?

Parler ainsi (encore faudrait-il déterminer ce qu’est ce « ainsi »), c’est peut-être aussi l’assurance de gérer symboliquement les frontières entre espace privé et espace public. Le locuteur, garçon ou fille, jeune ou moins jeune, provenant d’un quartier populaire ou bourgeois, pourrait chercher à maîtriser l’accès à son identité telle qu’il ou elle la conçoit, à filtrer ce qu’il ou elle expose de son intimité en usant de ce lexique.

Cela est reconduit par ailleurs dans les thématiques amoureuses des morceaux de rap qu’ils semblent préférer écouter : auraient-ils donc besoin de se cacher derrière une apparente violence des stéréotypes genrés pour se protéger ? Dans ce cadre, l’excès verbal des jeunes ne serait pas analysable comme étant d’ordre exhibitionniste, mais pourrait bien plutôt paradoxalement aider à la dissimulation de soi.

Il peut être étonnant que, malgré l’inventivité linguistique des jeunes contemporains (catégorie, on l’a dit, fort hétérogène), leur langage semble reproduire des hiérarchies de genre anciennes. Les « codes » sont bousculés, mais n’en restent pas moins ancrés dans des normes sociales bien établies.

Cela montre que les jeunes n’échappent pas à une sorte de conservatisme sociolinguistique. Si leur langage peut être vu comme un miroir de la société dans laquelle ils évoluent, il semble que cette société peine à se débarrasser de beaucoup de formes de domination.

The Conversation

Anne Gensane 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. Ce que l’argot des collégiens nous dit des stéréotypes de genre chez les jeunes – https://theconversation.com/ce-que-largot-des-collegiens-nous-dit-des-stereotypes-de-genre-chez-les-jeunes-268125

How the first Bible to include a map helped spread the idea of countries with borders

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Nathan MacDonald, Professor of the Interpretation of the Old Testament, University of Cambridge

Five hundred years ago the first Bible featuring a map was published. The anniversary has passed uncelebrated, but it transformed the way that Bibles were produced. The map appeared in Christopher Froschauer’s 1525 Old Testament, which was published in Zürich and widely distributed in 16th-century central Europe.

Yet despite being a groundbreaking moment in the Bible’s history, the initial attempt was hardly a triumph.

It is flipped along the north-south axis (meaning it’s back to front). As a result, the Mediterranean appears to the east of Palestine, rather than to the west. It illustrates how little many in Europe knew about the Middle East that such a map could have been published without anyone in the printer’s workshop questioning it.

The map had originally been drawn about a decade earlier by the celebrated Renaissance painter and printmaker Lukas Cranach the Elder, based in Wittenberg in latterday Germany. Written in Latin, it shows Palestine with various important holy sites such as Jerusalem and Bethlehem. At the bottom, you can see the mountains of Sinai and the path taken by the Israelites as they escaped slavery in Egypt.

Lucas Cranach the Elder's map of the Holy Land in Christopher Froschauer's Old Testament.
Lucas Cranach the Elder’s map of the Holy Land in Christopher Froschauer’s Old Testament.
The Wren Library, The Master and Fellows of Trinity College, Cambridge, CC BY-SA

Look closely and you can see the Israelites and their tents, plus various vignettes of the events on their journey. The landscape is more European than Middle Eastern, though, reflecting the printmakers’ ignorance of this region. There are walled towns with numerous trees and, in contrast with reality, the Jordan meanders rather more dramatically towards the Dead Sea, and the coastline has more bays and coves.

In the previous century, Europeans had rediscovered the second-century Greco-Roman geographer Ptolemy, and with him the art of making accurate maps that used latitude and longitude (insofar as longitude could be estimated at that time – it greatly improved in later centuries). With the advent of printing, Ptolemy’s Cosmographia had taken Europe by storm. His scientific treatise on geography was published and his maps of the ancient world reproduced.

Printers soon discovered, however, that purchasers desired contemporary maps. Soon new maps of France, Spain and Scandinavia were published. To our eyes these are truly modern. North is at the top of the page and the locations of cities, rivers and coastlines are presented highly accurately.

Map of France from Ptolemy's Cosmographia.
Modern map of France in Ptolemy’s Cosmographia, the 1486 (1482) Ulm Printing.
Stanford University, CC BY-SA

These maps rapidly replaced medieval mapping with its symbolic approach to the world, such as the famous Hereford mappa mundi of the known world circa 1300, where it was more about conveying cultural or religious meaning than geographical accuracy. Except, that is, in one case: Palestine.

The early modern printers of Ptolemy also gave their readers a “modern map of the Holy Land” that was nothing of the sort. It was a medieval map produced not by using latitude and longitude, but using a grid to measure distances between different locations. It was orientated with the east at the top of the page and the west at the bottom. It portrayed the holy sites of Christianity and divided the land of Palestine into tribal territories.

Cranach’s map blends these two types of maps. At its top and bottom edges it has lines of meridian, but the coastline is slanted so that the entire map is orientated with the north-east at the top of the page.

It is as though Cranach couldn’t quite decide what type of map to create. Its portrayal is realistic and modern, but the map is full of symbolic geography: as your eye passes over, you journey with the Israelites from Egyptian bondage to the promised land, with all its resonant locations, such as Mount Carmel, Nazareth, the River Jordan and Jericho.

Perceptions of Palestine

The map was characteristic of Europe’s lack of interest in Palestine, then part of the Ottoman empire. What European book buyers cared for was the strange hybrid space that is the “Holy Land”: somewhere that was in our world, but also not part of it.

The towns the map portrayed were those that had flourished two millennia earlier, which for Christians were in some sense more real. They were part of the imaginative space described in their churches and scriptures.

Nicholas Poussin's The Crossing of the Red Sea 1633-34
The exodus of the Israelites as depicted in Nicholas Poussin’s The Crossing of the Red Sea (1633-34).
Wikimedia, CC BY-SA

That curious juxtaposition of ancient and modern was particularly consequential when it came to the mapping of Palestine into 12 tribal territories. The 12 tribes that descended from Jacob symbolised Christianity’s claim as true heir of Israel and its holy sites, and also what the holy sites represented: the inheritance of the heavenly Jerusalem. Lines on the map communicated the eternal promises of God.

But in the early modern period, lines began to be used to mark the borders between sovereign states. The maps of the Holy Land, neatly divided amongst the Israelite tribes, set the agenda for cartographers. As the 16th century went on, more and more maps in atlases divided the world among distinct nations with clearly defined borders.

The fact that a map divided into territories appeared in the Bible gave apparently religious authorisation for a world full of borders. Lines that had once symbolised the boundless divine promises now communicated the limits of political sovereignties.

Within Bibles themselves, maps had arrived for good. The following years saw printers experiment with various configurations, but eventually they were to settle on four maps: one of the wilderness wanderings of the Israelites, one of the territories of the 12 tribes, one of Palestine at the time of Jesus, and one of the apostle Paul’s missionary journeys.

There is a pleasing symmetry: two maps for the Old Testament, two for the New Testament. But also, two maps of journeys and two maps of the Holy Land. Such symmetries communicated the connections between events: the Old Testament was fulfilled in the New Testament, and Judaism in Christianity.

The first map in a Bible is therefore a fascinating moment in history, but a troubling one. It transformed the Bible into something like a Renaissance atlas, but deeply embedded in assumptions about Christian superiority: the Holy Land of Christian imagination displacing contemporary Palestine, and Christianity superseding Judaism.

It was also one of the agents in creating the modern world of distinct nation states. In many ways, we’ve been living with the consequences ever since.

The Conversation

Nathan MacDonald 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 the first Bible to include a map helped spread the idea of countries with borders – https://theconversation.com/how-the-first-bible-to-include-a-map-helped-spread-the-idea-of-countries-with-borders-270901

Green transition targets are not realistic – how to decarbonise at the right pace

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Siavash Alimadadi, Research Associate at the Centre for Sustainable Business, King’s College London

Andrzej Rostek/Shutterstock

While the UK needs to accelerate its energy transition, targets are being missed, projects run into delays, and the public wonders why progress feels so slow. The temptation is to blame politics, funding or technology. Yet there is a deeper reason the road to net zero keeps stalling.

Everything in our modern life, from our roads to our factories, have been built around readily available fossil fuels. As a result, we expect things to happen quickly, to last indefinitely and to disappear without consequence.

Why this expectation? Burning coal, oil and gas taps carbon and sunlight that were locked away over millions of years and releases that energy in a matter of decades. That compression of deep time (the vast geological timescales of Earth’s history) into human time gives the impression that highways, buildings and plastics can be produced at speed and endure without limits. Through burning fossil fuels, millions of years worth of stored sunlight and energy can be transformed into concrete, plastics and electricity in a matter of hours.

When we talk about decarbonisation, we are not just changing fuels. We are being asked to change this entire pace of living.

Fossil fuels made energy cheap and abundant, and so our economies were organised around speed. We learned to pour concrete and we assumed it would stand for decades. We built factories that ran day and night and supply chains that delivered instantly. Convenience became normal.

In this context, it makes sense that governments promise to “accelerate” the green transition. The problem is that the very systems we are trying to fix still run on the rhythms of the fossil era. They are not designed to slow down or pivot quickly.




Read more:
Five ways to improve net zero action – our new research highlights lessons from the past


The North Sea’s recent “tieback” oil licences help show what is really happening.

The UK government’s new North Sea strategy is a case in point. The introduction of “transitional energy certificates” or “tiebacks” allow new drilling on or near existing fields. So while the UK has committed to banning all new oil and gas licences, some new fossil fuel extraction is still permitted.

Instead of marking a clean break from fossil fuels, they extend existing infrastructure by linking smaller oil fields to older platforms. This approach is faster and cheaper than starting new projects. On the surface, it looks like progress. But it keeps the old system going rather than rethinking it.

This logic shows up in how we build, too. Concrete is a telling example. In 2025 the UK announced its first carbon capture retrofit for a cement plant in Padeswood, North Wales. This so-called “net zero” cement factory will trap around 800,000 tonnes of carbon dioxide each year and start producing low-carbon cement in 2029.

This is a major technical step forward. Yet the retrofit does not change how cement is made. It simply adds a filter to an existing process that heats ancient limestone to very high temperatures. It still relies on the idea that we can turn geological time into buildings in hours and have them endure for centuries.

The four-year retrofit shows how slow it is to adapt a single plant, but the real lesson is that governments, industries and societies are investing heavily to keep the same rapid tempo of construction, rather than imagining different materials or building practices.

stone processing for cement industry
Decarbonising the cement industry will be a slow process.
Vera Larina/Shutterstock

The electricity grid reveals a similar mismatch. For years Britain’s electricity network connected projects on a first come, first served basis. This model assumed a steady trickle of large fossil fuel plants. The surge of renewables has overwhelmed it.

By late 2025 there were more than 700 gigawatts of generation and demand projects waiting in the queue – over four times the capacity needed to meet the government’s 2030 clean power target. Some developers have been waiting a decade for a connection. The backlog exists not because there is a shortage of projects, but because the system was never designed to handle so many small, decentralised schemes.

Regulators are now reforming the queue to prioritise “shovel-ready” projects. That is a necessary fix, but it is also an admission that our assumptions of endless, rapid growth have outpaced the physical network we built.

These examples reveal a deeper pattern. We are not only managing emissions or upgrading technology. We are holding on to the pace and habits shaped by the fossil era. The green transition often involves making the old system more efficient, rather than asking what a truly different future would require.

Many also expect this transition to be as quick and frictionless as the fossil fuel era made everything seem. Yet decarbonising means reworking industries and infrastructure that took decades to build.

Cement plants last half a century. Power lines take years to plan and construct. Even the most optimistic timelines involve years of design, consultation and construction. This is not a failure; it is the reality of shifting away from a system designed for speed and permanence without patience.

Resetting the clock

Recognising this mismatch does not mean giving up on urgency. Climate change demands swift action. But urgency is not the same as haste. Instead of expecting every solution to scale overnight, we need to design policies and industries in a way that respects how long things take, and, indeed, whose timing counts.

For example, do policies align with corporate investment cycles, election calendars or the slower timelines of ecosystems and future generations? Whose timeframes shape action?

Building a low-carbon economy will not feel like the rapid transformations of the past. It will involve repairing, adapting and sometimes slowing down. But if we want to move beyond fossil fuels, we cannot keep living on fossil time. A successful transition will be one that aligns our policies, industries and daily lives with the slower, more regenerative rhythms of the world we depend on.


Don’t have time to read about climate change as much as you’d like?

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The Conversation

Jonatan Pinkse receives funding from the ESRC – The Productivity Institute.

Siavash Alimadadi 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. Green transition targets are not realistic – how to decarbonise at the right pace – https://theconversation.com/green-transition-targets-are-not-realistic-how-to-decarbonise-at-the-right-pace-270720

Nigel Farage’s alleged teenage comments are a distraction from the damage of his politics

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Aurelien Mondon, Senior Lecturer in Politics, University of Bath

More than 20 of Nigel Farage’s former classmates have reportedly alleged the Reform UK leader made racist and antisemitic comments between the ages of 13 and 18.

The claims – some of which have been known for some time – are truly horrendous. They include allegedly taunting Jewish students, including telling one, “Hitler was right,” and singing, “Gas ‘em all.”

After a party spokesperson emphatically denied the accusations on his behalf, Farage has now dismissed the alleged comments as banter in a playground. Asked to categorically rule out that he had engaged in racial abuse, he said he “would never, ever do it in a hurtful or insulting way”. Or at least, “not with intent”, as he clarified once pushed further.

More recently, his position appeared to change again when he said, “I can tell you categorically that I did not say the things that have been published in the Guardian aged 13, nearly 50 years ago.”

However historic, reports of such behaviour – and Farage’s reaction – give us an insight into the leader of what I argue is now the UK’s main far-right party (more on that later). Anyone who has paid attention to Farage’s political career will not be surprised by the nature of the beliefs allegedly espoused.

Reform UK selected as head of its student organisation a former academic who argued that UK-born people from minority ethnic backgrounds were not always British. And when Reform MP Sarah Pochin came under fire for her complaints about adverts “full” of black and Asian people, Farage said he thought the “intention” behind her comments was “ugly”, but not “racist”.

Reform campaigners have been caught making homophobic and racist slurs. Councillors have resigned or candidates dropped from ballots for allegedly making offensive or racist comments. And of course, there is always the image of Farage with Ukip’s “breaking point” poster.

With the latest allegations, Farage appears to be taking an approach of plausible deniability: who is to know what he thought at the time?

This has been part of the reactionary playbook for decades. Public figures cross the line before denying intent or pretending they are “just asking questions”. This strategy allows them to make their ideas enter the mainstream public discourse, while facing few real risks of repercussion or accountability.

What really matters is seeing this episode as part of a wider political project. In other words, even if Farage had not acted like this as a teenager, would that mean the politics he has helped mainstream for decades are now acceptable?

Reactionary playbook

Recent history shows that focusing only on extreme actions at the expense of more subtle discourse can help, rather than hurt, right or far-right political projects.

Jean-Marie Le Pen, the former head of France’s far-right Front National and father of current far-right leader Marine Le Pen, was fined on a number of occasions for describing the Holocaust as a “detail of history”. These claims again should not have surprised us, considering his political trajectory and the simple fact the Front National was born out of a neo-fascist alliance.

Yet the outrage caused by Le Pen’s Holocaust denialism did not prevent the mainstreaming of his party or politics. He remained president of the FN until 2011 and an MEP until 2019. Crucially, it paved the way for his daughter to become a leader who could appear more moderate by comparison while espousing similar politics.

Legitimisation through contradistinction is a key chapter in the far-right playbook. Find an extreme example to make your political project appear moderate by comparison. Marine Le Pen benefited from this again in 2022 when the extremist campaign of Eric Zemmour made her seem like a palatable alternative.

Farage himself benefited from this in the 2010s by portraying the British National Party as beyond the pale, claiming even to have destroyed the far right in the UK. Of course, this flies in the face of the politics that Ukip, the Brexit Party and Reform have pushed since – but it has worked wonders in the mainstream media.

Thanks to his more affable persona, his own elite status and connections and his more polished discourse, Farage was able to portray himself as acceptable by comparison with the extreme right, thus shifting the dial right regarding what is acceptable in mainstream discourse.

Farage speaking in front of an American flag and CPAC background.
Farage onstage at the US Conservative Political Action Conference.
Joshua Sukoff/Shutterstock

The threat cannot simply be resolved through individual introspection, apologies for crossing the line or indeed, the downplaying of deeply offensive speech as “banter”.

Even if Farage were to admit fault and apologise, this would not have the impact many hope. The cat is out of the bag: far-right views on immigration, Islam or trans rights are now core to mainstream public discourse and shaping the agenda, thanks in part to politicians like Farage.




Read more:
Look to the mainstream to explain the rise of the far right


Far-right politicians have been incredibly successful at forcing their ideas into mainstream discourse under a thin veneer of respectability, or by hijacking potentially progressive or liberal values such as free speech or violence against women and girls to push deeply reactionary politics.

Though I and others argue that Reform fits the academic definition of “far right”, there is a tendency among mainstream politicians and media to take the party at its word or to back away from confrontation. Something of the sort happened with the BBC apology to Reform in 2024 for calling the party “far right”.

Not calling out these politics for what they are can only legitimise them. This is done through euphemism (calling them “populist” for example), by absorbing and mimicking them or accepting them as “legitimate grievances” from “the people”.

Focusing on extreme events such as the reports of Farage’s teenage past can exceptionalise the nature of far-right politics and make it harder to call out. This sensationalist approach centred on one person’s behaviour prevents us from actually interrogating the wider process of mainstreaming, which takes more mundane forms and has a much deeper impact on our public discourse and democracy. It also downplays the role played by the mainstream media and politicians in the process of mainstreaming.

Creating individual monsters to symbolise extremism is a distraction away from the very real and systemic nature of the far-right threat.

The Conversation

Aurelien Mondon 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. Nigel Farage’s alleged teenage comments are a distraction from the damage of his politics – https://theconversation.com/nigel-farages-alleged-teenage-comments-are-a-distraction-from-the-damage-of-his-politics-270617

Why the North Korean government is so invested in women’s youth football

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Jung Woo Lee, Senior Lecturer in Sport and Leisure Policy, University of Edinburgh

North Korea cemented its status as one of the dominant forces in women’s youth football in early November, defeating the Netherlands 3-0 in the under-17 World Cup final. They returned from the tournament victorious for a record extending fourth time, having won the past two titles.

The North Koreans also won awards for the tournament’s best and second-best overall players. These trophies went to North Korea’s forward, Yu Jong-hyang, and her teammate, Kim Won-sim, respectively. The success of North Korea’s young footballers is the product of a broader strategy aimed at strengthening national pride and boosting the country’s international standing.

It is perhaps no great surprise that North Korea, which is nominally under communist rule, was an early adopter of women’s football. Socialist ideology generally encourages women to take part in sport, seeing it as a means of achieving gender equality and promoting national strength.

In the late 1980s, when football’s global governing body Fifa was planning to launch women’s competitions, North Korea’s leaders promptly introduced football development programmes for women. This included incorporating football training for girls into the school curriculum and creating women’s football teams in the army, which allowed players to train and develop full-time at the state’s expense.

This approach soon began to pay off. From the 1990s to the early 2010s, North Korea consistently had one of the best senior national women’s football teams in Asia. North Korea won several Asian Cup titles before a major doping scandal involving five national-team players in 2011 put the breaks on this success.

North Korea was banned from the 2015 women’s World Cup and failed to qualify four years later. The country then went into a period of isolation during the pandemic, which prevented it from participating in the 2023 World Cup.

The North Korean women’s youth sides, meanwhile, have continuously shown footballing prowess on the international stage. The under-20 squad won the country’s first football World Cup in 2006, with North Korea emerging victorious from the inaugural under-17 women’s World Cup two years later.

Kim Jong-un came to power in 2011 and, like his father and predecessor Kim Jong-il, made the development of competitive sport a key policy priority. He increased investment in sport significantly, overseeing the construction of sports facilities such as the Pyongyang International Football School.

Opened in 2013, this is a state-run elite training facility that aims to identify and develop talented young footballers for the country’s national teams. Some of the best players from the current youth setup, including Yu Jong-hyang and Kim Won-sim, attended the school.

Why sport matters

Any sporting victory on the global stage is important for the North Korean government as it helps boost nationalism among the country’s people. In 2023, Kim Jong-un proclaimed: “it is a sacred duty of our athletes to raise our national flag high in foreign land”. Young North Korean women footballers have consistently performed this very act.

Jon Il Chong, who was announced as the best player at the under-17 women’s World Cup in 2024, told reporters after North Korea’s victory in the final: “It was the desire and honour of our team to give the respected fatherly marshal, Kim Jong-un, the report of pleasure and victory.” She added: “I will train harder and harder in the future so that I will demonstrate the honour of North Korea throughout the world.”

But Pyongyang’s goal extends beyond boosting nationalism among its athletes. Two days after the 2025 under-17 women’s final, the state-run Korean Central Television channel broadcast a delayed recording of the match on large outdoor screens in Pyongyang. Rodong Sinmun, the official newspaper of the ruling Workers’ party, described jubilant scenes across the capital.

“Even young mothers scolded their children to walk faster and stopped in front of the screens, holding them tight as they watched the match,” its report said. “The area around Pyongyang Station became a sea of ecstasy.”

North Korea’s under-17 World Cup win sparked street celebrations in Pyongyang.

North Korea’s leadership tends to be viewed internationally as despotic and militaristic. However, even relatively minor international sporting events like the under-17 women’s football World Cup present an opportunity for North Korea to project a more positive image of itself to the world. They also provide a channel for diplomatic dialogue.

Fifa’s webpage featured images and stories of the North Korean under-17 women’s team following their win in Morocco, with a celebratory and congratulatory undertone throughout. Even in South Korea, a country North Korea maintains frosty relations with, football fans shared their admiration for the North Korean team’s success on social media.

Clearly, the dominance of North Korea’s youth sides needs to be translated into the senior game for the state’s sporting strategy to be fully successful. North Korean football players need to join prestigious professional leagues in the west, competing on a more visible platform against the best players in the world.

But due to UN economic sanctions imposed on the regime in Pyongyang, which were first levied in 2006 and have been tightened since, no homegrown North Korean footballers can sign a contract with a foreign football club. This creates a significant barrier to the development of North Korean football beyond the youth level moving forward.

It remains to be seen whether North Korea can regather its past momentum and qualify for the senior women’s World Cup in Brazil in 2027. But, for now, North Korea’s footballing dominance seems limited to the youth ranks.

The Conversation

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

ref. Why the North Korean government is so invested in women’s youth football – https://theconversation.com/why-the-north-korean-government-is-so-invested-in-womens-youth-football-269563

Prostate cancer screening rejected by UK government advisers – here’s why

Source: The Conversation – UK – By David C. Gaze, Senior Lecturer in Chemical Pathology, University of Westminster

Thailand Jarun Ontakrai/Shutterstock.com

A roster of high profile advocates, including sportsmen, actors, two previous prime ministers and over 100 MPs, have recently joined patient groups and charities in calling for a UK national prostate cancer screening programme.

However, the UK National Screening Committee (UKNSC) has announced its draft decision to advise the government against routine population screening for all men. It has also rejected calls for a specific screening programme for black men due to “uncertainties” given the lack of clinical trials in this population group.

Instead, it recommended targeted screening every two years for a small proportion of men – those aged 45 to 61 years with a confirmed BRCA1 or BRCA2 gene mutation. Three in every 1,000 men carry these gene variants and may develop faster-growing and more aggressive cancer at a younger age.

Why such caution?

The UK screening committee commissioned the Sheffield Centre for Health and Related Research (Scharr) to model the cost-effectiveness of prostate cancer screening. It looked at screening all-risk men, black men, men with family history of cancer and BRCA carriers. Its initial findings were that screening for BRCA carriers was the most cost-effective, and there was the most uncertainty about screening all-risk men.

These findings reflect limitations with the way screening would be carried out. The evidence shows that the standard blood test used for early detection, the prostate‑specific antigen (PSA) test, is not accurate enough when used as a general screening tool.

The PSA test often fails to distinguish between cancers that would cause serious illness and those that would remain harmless for a man’s lifetime, such as a benign enlargement of the prostate called benign prostatic hyperplasia or BPH. That means screening with PSA alone could result in false positive tests.

As a result, many men could face invasive follow-up procedures or treatments, including surgery or radiotherapy that carry serious risks, such as incontinence and sexual side-effects, even when their cancer posed little threat. Conversely, the PSA test may also miss some cancers (called “false negatives”) with dangerous health consequences if not detected and appropriately treated.

Compounding the problem is a lack of convincing evidence that mass screening reduces the number of deaths from prostate cancer. The UKNSC has so far concluded that the balance of harms and benefits does not support a nationwide screening programme.

That said, the committee recognises the debate is not over. Screening proponents point to newer data. A recent study in the BMJ showed that PSA-based screening could reduce prostate cancer deaths by about 13% over time.

Former UK prime minister, Rishi Sunak.
Former PM, Rishi Sunak, called for a national prostate cancer screening programme.
photocosmos1/Shutterstock.com

Meanwhile, advances in technology have improved diagnostic pathways. Many men with high PSA levels are now offered an MRI scan before biopsy, reducing unnecessary biopsies and the risks associated with them.

Assuming the government follows the committee’s advice, what this means for now in practical terms is that most men in the UK will not be invited for regular prostate cancer checks. The only widespread option remains the “informed choice” route, where men aged 50 years or over who want a PSA test can ask their GP, but even then, they should be informed of the possible risks as well as the benefits of testing.

However, this may not be the end of the story. The committee has opened a consultation on its draft recommendation and on the Scharr study. It is due to make its final recommendation in March 2026. It has also commissioned Scharr to undertake further modelling.

The health secretary, Wes Streeting, who will make the final decision on screening, said: “I will examine the evidence and arguments in this draft recommendation thoroughly, bringing together those with differing views, ahead of the final recommendation in March.”

The week before the recommendation was announced, a major two-year trial was launched to assess and compare different screening methods, including fast MRI scans, genetic testing and PSA blood testing.

But until screening can reliably tell harmful cancers from harmless ones, the risk of overdiagnosis and overtreatment will remain a real and serious concern.

The Conversation

David C. Gaze 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. Prostate cancer screening rejected by UK government advisers – here’s why – https://theconversation.com/prostate-cancer-screening-rejected-by-uk-government-advisers-heres-why-270918