The Lesotho Highlands Water project is 40 years old and going strong: but history weighs on its successes

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By John Aerni-Flessner, Associate Professor of African History, Michigan State University

Big projects bring big hopes and big dreams. They also bring big disappointment when they don’t deliver on all the promises. Even when the projects work as they are supposed to.

The Lesotho Highlands Water Project fits this description perfectly, as I argue in my new book on its history. Over the past 20 years I have conducted research on the history of the small, landlocked country of Lesotho and its development.

Two massive dams – Katse and Mohale – and storage reservoirs in Lesotho have been completed and a third dam is under construction.

The project transfers, via gravity-fed tunnels under the mountains, billions of litres of water a year to South Africa’s Vaal River. This water fuels the economic and mining heartland of Gauteng province, which pays billions of rand annually in royalties to Lesotho. The project fundamentally works.

And yet, there are many people in both countries who feel the project does not bring them benefit. They pay for the project – whether in hard money or with sacrifices to their lives and livelihoods – but in their daily lives, they still lack access to water and services. And they vent their anger at the project.

Why? It is in part the nature of big infrastructure projects. Politicians make big promises. The public imagination is activated. People dream of better lives for themselves and their children. The project delivers exactly what it promised, but this does not fulfil the expectations people built up around it. The Lesotho Highlands Water Project certainly follows this pattern.

And yet, it is more. The project treaty was signed in 1986, towards the end of apartheid. So it was not marked by any public consultation at the start. And it has not prioritised providing benefits to the poorest and most vulnerable, even in the democratic years that followed the end of apartheid in 1994.

Unearthing the history

The book is based on extensive archival research in South Africa and Lesotho plus oral histories conducted with people knowledgeable about the project. It also relied on a Promotion of Access to Information Act request to the Department of International Relations and Cooperation in South Africa.

This lengthy process was necessary because the international relations department does not transfer files to the National Archives anymore. It means that these files are not generally available to the public. Hence, the book unearths the thinking of South African security and diplomatic officials about the project in new ways.

Currently the Katse and Mohale Dams in Lesotho impound water in the Maluti mountains of Lesotho. (Polihali Dam is scheduled for completion around 2030.) The project has over 120km of 5-metre diameter tunnels that take water under two watersheds and a mountain range to deliver project water to the Vaal River in South Africa. The Vaal is the main source of water for Johannesburg.

The Lesotho Highlands Water Project supplies around 60% of Johannesburg’s water needs for its roughly 5.5 million people. Each year the project transfers almost 800 million cubic metres of water. Each cubic metre contains 1,000 litres. So, the project transfers roughly 800 billion litres of water a year currently. A mind-boggling amount of water.

The water royalties currently pay out almost R4 billion (US$240 million) each year to Lesotho, or about 15% of the Lesotho government’s total budget. And this number, both the total payment and the percentage of government revenue, is rising.

And yet, for all this success, popular discontent around the treaty and the project in general are also rising – in both countries.

Why the discontent?

First, the Lesotho Highlands Water Project Treaty was signed in 1986 between the apartheid government and a military government in Lesotho put into power by Pretoria. There was no popular consultation about the treaty and its provisions in either country. This undemocratic legacy continues to sour people on the project. There is an assumption of unfairness in the terms of the treaty, even as most people do not know exactly what is in the document.

Second, there is a history of corruption by top leaders and multi-national corporations working on the scheme. This, combined with a history of corruption in tenders on water projects in South Africa, has powered the narrative that the project exists primarily to line the pockets of the well connected.

Third, much of South Africa’s water infrastructure was constructed during the apartheid period. Thus, most of the pipes and taps are in historically privileged communities. The townships and informal settlements that ring Johannesburg frequently face a lack of water, whether because of inadequate infrastructure, shoddy maintenance or both.

Further, these communities have, at times, paid a higher per unit rate than richer communities. Water protests are frequent and expose the failures of successive governments in South Africa.

Fourth, communities in Lesotho – including many of those within sight of the reservoirs – lack access to water. While the government of Lesotho touts the life-giving waters of the Maluti as a national treasure, a boon for tourism, and as an illustration of their competence as leaders, many communities in Lesotho cannot access the “White Gold” for themselves. They still rely on natural sources, which carry a risk of contamination and can prove inadequate, especially during the winter dry season.

Finally, the communities that were displaced for the first two phases of project were not treated well or adequately compensated. The struggles of the individuals and the groups who had to move has been well documented. Their stories are, unfortunately, well known in Lesotho. Therefore, the general perception is that the project has unfairly displaced people in the name of increased government revenue. These worries continue as phase two proceeds.

These factors add up to widespread perception in both countries that the project is a failure.

Yet, by all objective measures, the project works. It delivers the water faithfully and on time. The system has enough excess capacity to allow a seamless expansion of 50% more water delivered by 2029 when phase 2 is complete. And the revenue going to the Lesotho government will continue to increase year on year.

Managing the negative perceptions

So, what can be done to ease the negative public perceptions of the project? How can government officials solve their water public relations issues?

Here are a few relatively easy (though not necessarily cheap) options:

  • Provide tapped water to the most immediately affected communities in the Lesotho Highlands – those who live with the reservoirs and who cannot currently access the waters. Article 4, subsection 2 of the treaty allows for domestic use. Spend the money needed to make it happen.

  • Make a plan and follow through on the upgrades to Johannesburg’s water delivery system. Ensure a consistent, affordable water supply to the poor communities on the outskirts of the city. Fix ageing infrastructure in the city centre and suburbs. Water bubbling out of holes in the pavement and going to waste angers residents who struggle to access and pay for water wherever they live.

  • Renegotiate the treaty. It was supposed to be re-examined 15 years after its 1986 signing. This was never done. Talks are finally set to commence in April 2026 to renegotiate – 40 years later. Make public comment sessions accessible and ensure broad participation in the process to build or revive trust in accountability for treaty provisions.

  • Ensure equitable water access more generally. Expand the reach of water delivery in Lesotho to water-scarce communities. Charge variable rates for water in Johannesburg based on income to ensure adequate funding for infrastructure upgrades for all. Create a sovereign wealth fund – insulated from petty corruption by ministers and members of parliament – in Lesotho to ensure that water royalties and payments can be directed to the areas of highest need and directly to the most affected communities.

  • Contain costs. With project costs ballooning, many suspect that it is corruption that is behind the increases. Clean up the project and public perceptions around it.

The history of a project born under non-democratic leadership will be tough to overcome. But it is doable.

The Conversation

The research for this project was done, in part, from funding that John Aerni-Flessner received from the Fulbright Program and from the National Institute for the Humanities and Social Sciences in South Africa.

ref. The Lesotho Highlands Water project is 40 years old and going strong: but history weighs on its successes – https://theconversation.com/the-lesotho-highlands-water-project-is-40-years-old-and-going-strong-but-history-weighs-on-its-successes-277860

Will the world fill the climate leadership void left by the US?

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Stephen Lezak, Programme Manager at the Smith School of Enterprise and the Environment, University of Oxford

The Trump administration pulled the rug out from underneath US federal climate policy in February, when the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) overturned the landmark 2009 “endangerment finding”. Now, the official policy of the US government holds that greenhouse gases do not pose a risk to human health.

The move has opened a new frontier for Donald Trump to govern without being constrained by evidence or in a manner that represents the majority of Americans, who support pro-climate policies. It also follows a year in which the US president and his allies have hollowed out American climate leadership.

Since taking office, Trump and his allies have rolled back clean air standards for almost anything with a tailpipe or smokestack. In January 2026, they even instructed the EPA to stop estimating the value of lives saved in the agency’s cost-benefit analyses for new pollution rules. This could lead to looser controls on pollutants from industrial sites across the country.

As US climate leadership recedes into the rearview mirror, one question remains: will any nation – and China in particular – rush in to fill the gap? I wish there were a simple answer. But enthusiasm for climate leadership is backsliding, and not just from the US government.

Even as renewable energy installation continues worldwide, there are some signs of retreat. Across the world, companies are quietly shedding their net-zero targets. US car manufacturers Ford and General Motors also recently wrote off more than US$25 billion (£18.5 billion) of investment in electric vehicles because consumer demand has failed to match their forecasts.

It is no coincidence that this breakdown in the global climate consensus comes at a time when tensions are rising worldwide. The global order is reeling over Trump’s war in Iran and sabre-rattling over Greenland. Meanwhile, Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine has dragged into its fifth year without any clear prospect of peace.

Climate collaboration requires a belief that everyone is pitching in. When global institutions and norms look weak, national leaders worry about being the last honest participant in a deal that everyone else has abandoned. This is as true for countries as for human beings: nobody wants to feel like they’ve been duped.

However, there are some signs of hope. Demand for clean energy isn’t going away overnight. Renewable energy is often cheaper than fossil power, even without subsidies. A July 2025 report by the International Renewable Energy Agency found that nine in ten new renewable projects are on track to generate cheaper power than fossil fuel alternatives.

Just as important is the fact that citizens around the world continue to suffer from the effects of breathing polluted air, which the World Health Organization estimates causes 7 million deaths worldwide each year.

Even as climate concern falters, some of the world’s most populous cities, such as New Delhi in India, are under growing pressure to protect their residents’ health. They are likely to continue reducing their use of fossil fuels to heat homes, generate electricity and move people around.

A group of people walk down a street in New Delhi that is engulfed in smog.
A thick blanket of smog engulfs New Delhi in April 2022.
Arrush Chopra / Shutterstock

Meanwhile, China is on a glide path to fill part of the void opened by America’s climate retreat. It already dominates certain clean energy technologies, holding a near-monopoly on battery, solar panel and fuel cell production. Chinese companies now manufacture more electric vehicles than every other nation combined.

Cementing its position as the new global climate leader would also earn China diplomatic “soft power,” especially among developing nations where Beijing can offer clean energy infrastructure plus the loans to finance it.

But, at the same time, China has shown a steady unwillingness to back strong political leadership on climate action. China’s leaders are bullish on renewable energy when it serves their economic interests. However, they are broadly resistant to the sort of strong international pressures that could stabilise global temperature rise.

It wasn’t until 2025 that China promised to actually reduce its emissions. And its recent commitments, which include a pledge to reduce greenhouse gas emissions by as much as 10% below peak levels by 2035, fall well short of what analysts say will be necessary to keep global warming below 1.5°C.




Read more:
When China makes a climate pledge, the world should listen


With US credibility rapidly eroding, the 21st century seems poised to slide deeper into a style of governance that is characterised less by rigorous analysis than by the whims of its leaders.

The silver lining is that demagoguery has a shelf life. Trump’s approval rating has fallen to second-term lows, with polls showing him at -17 points. The demand for clean air, cheap energy and competent governance doesn’t go away because one administration decides to ignore it.

One day Trump will eventually fade from the political landscape. Climate change will not.

The Conversation

Stephen Lezak 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. Will the world fill the climate leadership void left by the US? – https://theconversation.com/will-the-world-fill-the-climate-leadership-void-left-by-the-us-276200

What to expect next from the ‘special relationship’ as Trump again lashes out at Keir Starmer

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Stephen Marsh, Reader in Politics, Cardiff University

Operation Epic Fury unleashed overwhelming firepower on Iran and a Trump broadside against Britain’s prime minister. The president belittled Keir Starmer as being no comparison to Winston Churchill, raged against caveated British support and placed Britain’s standing as America’s “greatest ally” firmly in the past tense.

Starmer refused the bait. His government is privately contemptuous of the Trump administration. But he still needs to deal with the US president and how he should do that following the recent vitriol is a very live question.

Winston Churchill appropriated the term special relationship after the second world war to refer to the myriad Anglo-American connections. Some were government-to-government, spanning privileged diplomatic, economic, military, nuclear and intelligence cooperation. Others were historical and cultural, from which evolved a sentimental myth of special relations based on uniquely entwined histories, a common language, similar values and so forth.

For 80 years, Britain and the US stood shoulder-to-shoulder in defence of a liberal international order they fashioned from the ruins of war. The US became a hyperpower. Post-imperial Britain settled as a leading medium-sized power. But the song remained the same – at least until the Trump administration’s discordant note.

Brexit made Britain even more dependent on US power. Starmer, therefore, followed almost every prime minister since the second world war in seeking close personal relations with US presidents and the preservation of Britain’s standing as America’s foremost ally.

In fairness, of all the national leaders aspiring to be a “Trump whisperer”, Starmer has been one of the more successful. Routine extensive government-to-government dialogue has been combined with carefully choreographed leveraging of cultural connections to massage the president’s ego. Particularly noteworthy has been recruitment of British royalty to the cause, including the president’s historic second state visit in September 2025.

Still, Trump’s personality and his administration’s policies remain challenging. Starmer risks association with Trump’s political toxicity if he gets too close and will be questioned about whether any rewards from such courtship outweigh the costs.

Fidelity above all else

The Trump administration is anomalous. Unlike previous administrations, it does not consistently work with the British government to put a positive face on Anglo-American relations. The feel-good sentiment generated by the second state visit, for example, dissipated rapidly once Trump carelessly attacked British policies shortly afterwards in the United Nations.

Meanwhile, Trump’s prioritises fidelity above competence and centralises power in his White House. These tendencies, and his suspicion of expertise within the “deep state” weaken Britain’s ability to feed into the American foreign policymaking process.

Trump’s inconsistency, preference for diplomacy by social media, and frequently provocative and erroneous statements often trap Starmer between trying to smooth consequent tensions (in which case he appears as a Trump apologist) or rebutting the president. This was clear when Trump threatened Canadian sovereignty, when he repeatedly implied he would invade Greenland and when he attacked the commitment of British troops in Afghanistan.

Finally, and most importantly, the Trump administration is undermining the liberal international order, casting its anti-liberal, anti-modernist and anti-globalist tendencies against Britain’s preferences for international law, multilateral institutions, collective security and international free trade.

What should Starmer do now?

On balance, Starmer’s best option for now is to hope, hedge and wait. In the short term, Downing Street will hope that US mid-terms return a Congress less pliant to Trump’s ambitions and that legal actions through American courts continue their disruption.

In the longer term, the next three years will constitute a damage-limitation exercise while the world waits for Trump’s successor to arrive. The hope will be that whoever the next president is, Anglo-American relations will improve simply from being liberated from the personal and organisational chaos wrought by Trump.

During this interim, Starmer will routinely align Britain with the US provided doing so neither overly compromises British interests nor further weakens the liberal international order. He will also probably swallow bile and continue to woo Trump. That will potentially include leveraging the 250th anniversary celebrations of American independence. Even this, however, will need balancing against the risk of inferred endorsement of Trump ahead of the midterms.

Meanwhile, the British government will de-emphasise the significance of personalities to the robustness of Anglo-American relations and hedge against over-reliance on the US. This means building ever closer relations with Europe, continuing cautious engagement with China and outreach to other centres of economic power.

Starmer should also seek stronger relations with Canada’s Mark Carney, who has emerged as the most capable leader of the world’s medium-ranking powers and who most shares Britain’s conundrum of needing close but not over-dependent relations with Washington.

One final cautionary note. Trump dominates headlines, but he is merely an awkward symptom of the biggest challenge to the special relationship since its inception. The international order is in flux. How it is reshaped will determine whether Britain and the US remain shoulder to shoulder or return to being the distant cousins of the interwar period.

The latter is a scenario that ought to cause British officials sleeplessness. A US retreat to a neo-isolationism that broadly embraces the Maga logic would pass the mantle of principal guardianship of the liberal international order to the European Union. Britannia would then face a not-so-splendid isolation, self-exiled from the union and powerless to prevent retreat of the Atlantic shoreland.

The Conversation

Stephen Marsh 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. What to expect next from the ‘special relationship’ as Trump again lashes out at Keir Starmer – https://theconversation.com/what-to-expect-next-from-the-special-relationship-as-trump-again-lashes-out-at-keir-starmer-278236

China is ready to drive leadership of a low-carbon world – by making the international rules

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Alex Lo, Professor, Climate | Policy | Sustainability, York St John University

China is a leader in the electric car market. APiguide/Shutterstock

Donald Trump has made it clear he has no intention of playing a global leadership role in green energy or a move towards net zero.

While the US president is stepping back and Washington is deregulating its fossil fuel industry, Beijing is stepping up.

China sees an opportunity to write a green rulebook for the global low-carbon economy. And who makes the rules tends to wield a fair amount of power.

Already China dominates global green energy supply chains, from solar panels, wind turbines, grid equipment and storage systems to electric vehicles.

The US’s recent rollback puts China in a strong position to drive a further shift in where the world looks for green products that meet global standards, and what those global standards are.

China’s most likely move is to scale up a credible monitoring, reporting and verification system across heavy industry, so carbon emissions can be priced, compared and audited.

The EU has just introduced new rules to address “carbon leakage” where companies move production and pollution out of the region. This means that companies will have to purchase certificates showing how much carbon has been produced when importing goods. The UK has plans to follow suit.

Market access is being rewritten around documentation. Exporters that can document carbon content gain an edge over those that cannot. Under other EU rules, a digital “battery passport” becomes mandatory from February 2027 for EV batteries and industrial batteries above 2kWh.

While China does not control access to the European market, it can make it easier for the rest of the world to comply with EU-style requirements. It can do so by standardising the infrastructure and tools that firms need to prove they meet in order to keep selling into Europe. Once a factory is plugged into a particular compliance system, switching is costly.

China is building huge solar farms.

China can also leverage its supply chain dominance and digital infrastructure to sell traceability tools (which track which materials were used in a product), reporting templates, verification services and management platforms.

Another factor is that in the next few years firms will be expected to publish more consistent, investor-oriented sustainability and climate information, so that investors can compare climate exposure and performance across companies and countries.

From building factories to building rules

China has been strategically transforming into a clean energy superpower since the Paris agreement, where 195 countries agreed to tackle climate change. This part of China’s economy was worth US$ 2.1 trillion (£1.5 trillion), or 11.4% of GDP, in 2025.

China’s investment in renewable energy has increased from US$117 billion in 2015 to US$290 billion in 2024, which is three times that of the US.

However, these numbers do not show a simple divide between the US and China. Some US states are taking action, regardless of the Trump government’s position. US investment in renewable energy increased by 2.6 times from 2015 to 2024, slightly higher than China’s growth rate.

But the US-China divergence is most visible in each nation’s appetite for multilateral engagement. At the UN’s climate summit, COP30, in 2025, China presented itself as a global leader in renewable energy production. It does not treat renewables as just another sector, but as a core pillar of its strategy for economic growth and security. Renewables have been central to China’s economic transformation since the 2010s.

However, China has troubles of its own, so it will also be looking for new ways to boost its own weak economy. It is currently falling short its own emission reduction targets. Its solar panel industry is grappling with over-capacity and a price collapse, and regional competition with India is intensifying.

But as the US pulls back from the green economy, China can position itself as a broker of compatible green finance rules, especially for emerging markets that want capital without being trapped between competing standards, and hope that pays off.

Green rules are increasingly embedded in the global economy. Businesses and investors hate uncertainty, so any move by China to position itself as the international rule-maker for green products and green energy would position it well for the future.

The Conversation

Alex Lo 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. China is ready to drive leadership of a low-carbon world – by making the international rules – https://theconversation.com/china-is-ready-to-drive-leadership-of-a-low-carbon-world-by-making-the-international-rules-276564

Oil price surge is hurting African economies: scholars in Ethiopia, Kenya, Nigeria, Senegal and South Africa take stock

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Stephen Onyeiwu, Professor of Economics & Business, Allegheny College

The attacks by the US and Israel on Iran, which started on 28 February 2026, upended key supply chains, driving oil prices above US$100 a barrel. The spike followed Iran’s closure of the Strait of Hormuz in response to the US and Israeli action. About 20% of the world’s oil supplies are transported through the strait.

In the words of the International Energy Agency:

The war in the Middle East is creating the largest supply disruption in the history of the global oil market.

The impact is being felt by countries across the globe. African countries are no exception, including those that produce oil.

We asked five scholars from Nigeria, South Africa, Senegal, Kenya and Ethiopia to answer the question: Is the spike in oil prices hurting your country’s economy?

The answer was a uniform “yes”. The universal fear is the effect the rise in prices is having on fuel, a staple commodity in every one of the countries for ordinary people as well as industries. In some cases, such as Ethiopia, the government has already introduced fuel subsidies to shield people from the impact of having to pay more at fuel pumps.

The fear that higher prices and outright scarcity could have damaging effects, notably on food production, was also near universal.

For some there may be a silver lining: Kenya and Senegal are in the early phases of oil production. But they’re some way off reaping the benefits of higher prices. And in the case of Nigeria, the danger is that any windfall that comes its way won’t ease the economic burden faced by ordinary people.

The Conversation

Ibrahima Thiam works for Iba Der Thiam University of Thies in Senegal.

Rod Crompton, Stephen Onyeiwu, Tsegay Tekleselassie, and XN Iraki 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. Oil price surge is hurting African economies: scholars in Ethiopia, Kenya, Nigeria, Senegal and South Africa take stock – https://theconversation.com/oil-price-surge-is-hurting-african-economies-scholars-in-ethiopia-kenya-nigeria-senegal-and-south-africa-take-stock-278679

Namibia: the history of a country shaped from a rich and traumatic past

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Henning Melber, Extraordinary Professor, Department of Political Sciences, University of Pretoria

Namibia might not be well known in many parts of the world. But the arid southern African country has an extraordinary history.

Rich in indigenous cultural diversity, Namibians lived for more than a century under German and South African rule. Their anti-colonial resistance shaped the country from 1960 to independence on 21 March 1990 and beyond.

Henning Melber is a political scientist who works with this history. In numerous books he has tried to understand Namibia. His latest effort is a history for German speaking readers. We asked him about it.


What is the German connection?

Namibian and German histories have been entangled since the mid-1800s when German missionaries interacted with local communities. German settler-colonial rule followed in 1884.

The complicated ties with Germany remain alive today. Namibia’s three million inhabitants include an estimated 15,000-20,000 White German speakers. They outnumber those during colonial times and maintain minority rights, with their own institutionalised identity. Namibia has the continent’s only German daily newspaper and a German radio programme by the public broadcaster.

Likewise, Namibia is the most prominent African country in the German public sphere. Hundreds of thousands of German speakers visit the country every year – almost half of Namibia’s overseas tourists are from German speaking countries.

Before independence, the West German parliament adopted a resolution declaring a special responsibility for Namibia. It referred to the German speakers in the country as the reason, without mentioning the colonial history.

The book includes the role Germans played and continue to play. I came to Namibia as the young son of German emigrants in 1967. When I was 24, in 1974, I joined the South West Africa People’s Organisation (Swapo), the liberation movement fighting for independence. The book is therefore also partly a personal history.

What is Namibia’s early history?

In contrast to the colonial view, Namibia’s territory has neither been uninhabited (terra nullus) nor unknown (terra incognita).

Traces of human life date back over 200,000 years. Known sandstone engravings are 27,000 years old.




Read more:
Emperor moths in the rock art of the Namib Desert shed new light on shamanic ritual


The country’s world famous rock art has World Heritage Site status. Some of the paintings date back 3,000 years, created by the Bushmen (San) groups as the country’s first peoples. Migration within Africa added to the local ethnic diversity.

As hunters and foragers with high mobility, Bushmen became marginalised when newer groups claimed land. Like other indigenous minorities, some now earn a living as tourist attractions.

What happened under Germany?

Germany’s first colony was based on fraudulent land deals in 1883 and 1884 by the merchant Adolf Lüderitz, acting under German “protection”. He tricked the local Nama chief into giving away much more land than intended.

German negotiations with the Portuguese and British established the borders of the current state in the early 1900s. The British harbour enclave of Walvis Bay was integrated in 1994.

From the early 1890s, local resistance to colonisation was met with brute force. Leaders were executed, and communities forced into “protection treaties”. In 1893 the massacre at Hornkranz was the writing on the wall. Over 80 women and children of the Witbooi Nama were murdered by German troops.




Read more:
Namibia’s forgotten genocide: how Bushmen were hunted and killed under German colonial rule


Settler colonial encroachment became an existential threat. In 1904 the Ovaherero resorted to armed resistance. They were joined by the Nama. The German military response ended in the first genocide of the 20th century.

An estimated 80% of the Ovaherero and 50% of the Nama were killed, plus an unknown number of Damara. German settlers organised hunting safaris to exterminate the Bushmen.

Nama and Ovaherero were imprisoned in concentration camps on Shark Island, in Swakopmund and elsewhere. Their land was appropriated, and strict segregation through laws and reserves was imposed.




Read more:
Germany’s genocide in Namibia: deal between the two governments falls short of delivering justice


Apartheid – institutionalised racial segregation – is usually associated with South Africa, where it was entrenched in law in 1948. But I argue it was in fact a German invention.

German colonialism left scars and open wounds, mainly among the descendants of the decimated indigenous communities. In 2015, the German government admitted to genocide. Negotiations between the governments have tried to come to terms with this crime, but reparations remain a contested issue.

How did South Africa end up running the country?

After the fist world war, the League of Nations turned all German colonies into mandates. These were administered by member states of the allied forces until their inhabitants were able to govern themselves.

The Union of South Africa got the mandate over neighbouring Namibia, then named South West Africa. This meant annexation in all but name. South Africa would later refuse to remain accountable to the United Nations (UN) Trusteeship Council, which exercised oversight over the mandates.




Read more:
Windhoek’s Old Location was a place of pain, but also joy – new book


This motivated the UN to declare Namibia a “trust betrayed”. In 1971 South Africa’s mandate was revoked by the International Court of Justice.

After long negotiations a one-year transition under UN supervision paved the way for decolonisation. Independence was declared on 21 March 1990 and Namibia became the 160th UN member state.

How did organised resistance emerge?

The genocide had decimated the people needed as labour for the settler economy, so the German administration established a system of contract labour. Workers from the northern region under indirect rule, the so-called Ovamboland, were recruited.

The first coordinated resistance emerged within the ranks of the contract labour movement. It was a nucleus for the formation of Swapo.

Swapo was founded in 1960 after the killing of unarmed demonstrators, who refused forced resettlement from Old Location, a residential area for Africans in the city of Windhoek. In 1966 it began an armed struggle. In 1976 the UN recognised Swapo as “the sole and authentic representative” of the Namibian people.

The warfare against the South African regime mirrored the ambiguities and dilemmas of most armed liberation struggles. Swapo’s military command structure in exile enforced a non-democratic, centralised totalitarian mindset and a willingness to violate human rights. But the war was a relevant factor to end the foreign occupation by a White minority regime.

How has the past shaped the present?

Germans and Namibians share the long shadow of German colonialism. Most Germans know little about German colonial history. But its legacy continues to influence Namibian realities.

This is most visible in the inequality of land distribution. For the descendants of those robbed of their land, colonialism remains present. Many consider German development cooperation as another form of injustice.




Read more:
Namibia celebrates independence heroes, but glosses over a painful history


Swapo transformed into a dominant party in government. It cultivates heroic narratives and a selective patriotic history. A new Black elite justifies its privileges with the struggle sacrifices.

Namibia has, after South Africa, the highest social inequality in the world. This points to the limits of liberation.




Read more:
Podcasts bring southern Africa’s liberation struggle to life – thanks to an innovative new audio archive


But Namibians live in relative peace and freedom. The constitution protects civil liberties and democracy. It entrenches the rule of law. These essentials have remained respected in governance since independence. Despite all the shortcomings, it is worth it for the colonised to fight for such a society – not only in Namibia but anywhere in the world.

The Conversation

Henning Melber was a member of SWAPO from 1974 to 2025.

ref. Namibia: the history of a country shaped from a rich and traumatic past – https://theconversation.com/namibia-the-history-of-a-country-shaped-from-a-rich-and-traumatic-past-277655

Kinky caricature no more: How ‘Pillion’ is rewriting BDSM cinema

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Ummni Khan, Associate Professor, Department of Law and Legal Studies, Carleton University

_Pillion_ offers something rare in mainstream cinema: a queer kinky love story that neither pathologizes nor punishes its characters, nor ends with a big fat gay wedding. (A24)

Pillion is a love story about connection and self-discovery through submission, pain and bootlicking.

It’s not the first film to favourably portray kink or BDSM (bondage and discipline, domination and submission, sadism and masochism). But sympathetic renditions — like the Fifty Shades of Grey phenomena — tend to feature heterosexual couples.

Based on my research into BDSM in film and popular culture, I see Pillion as marking a striking shift in BDSM cinema: a mainstream romantic comedy that features gay men as complex and utterly endearing kinksters.

Sadomasochism in cinema

Earlier films have often framed BDSM as titillating but deviant, a slippery slope to catastrophe.

In 9½ Weeks (1986), a male dominant draws a woman into sex games that soon degrade into non-consent and humiliation. In Basic Instinct (1992), an alpha female lures men into bondage and, occasionally, stabs them with an ice pick.




Read more:
Basic Instinct at 30: the enduring appeal of the defiant femme fatale


In comedy, kinky characters have often been reduced to caricatures. In Eating Raoul (1982) and One Night at McCool’s (2001), kink is associated with sleaze, pathology and violence. In both films, the so-called “perverts” are killed, their deaths staged as punchlines.

A positive spin on perversity

Later BDSM films signalled a broader acceptance of sexual variety. They usually feature a male dominant introducing a woman to whips and chains, while she teaches him to open his heart.

A woman leaning forward with an envelope between her teeth with a man gazing at her in a business outfit.
Secretary from 2002 is one BDSM film that sees partners get married.
(Lion’s Gate Films)

Yet the apparent transgression often resolves in matrimony, as in Secretary (2002) and the aforementioned Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy.

More recently, Babygirl (2025) revised the formula: a married woman’s libido is unleashed with a younger man who, among other things, handles her like a dog. Their affair ends, but it ultimately revitalizes her marriage.

While many viewers found these films sexy and affirming, including myself, they arguably buy tolerance through assimilation. Kink is permitted, even promoted, but only when it settles down.

Kink, homophobia and representing gay men

A man with fearful looking eyes in a black and white photo against a red background.
Poster for ‘Cruising,’ starring Al Pacino, from 1980.
(Lorimar Film Entertainment/Warner Bros.)

Kinky gay men have rarely occupied the centre of mainstream film. When they appear at all, it is often as villains.

The infamous male-on-male rape scene in Pulp Fiction (1994) offers a vivid example: the two perps keep a masked, leather-clad “Gimp” on a leash, coding their assault through the esthetics of kink. All three are then murdered by the film’s more sympathetic characters.

By contrast, William Friedkin’s controversial film Cruising (1980) offers a more nuanced portrayal of queer kinky men, even as the narrative is structured around violence.

It follows Steve Burns (Al Pacino), an undercover cop tracking a serial killer who stalks New York’s leather bar scene, a hub of gay BDSM culture. As the investigation proceeds, Burns begins to struggle with his own emerging queer desires. A final murder suggests Burns may now be the killer’s successor, driven by his own sexual ambivalence.

The production sparked co-ordinated, large-scale protests from gay rights groups, who feared it would reinforce homophobic attitudes and even provoke attacks.

Under pressure, the director prefaced the film with a disclaimer that it depicted only “one small segment” of the “homosexual world” and was not meant to represent it as a whole.




Read more:
Queer archives preserve activist history and provide strategies to counter hate


A dark film

While a powerful moment in gay activism, the campaign may have also reinforced a respectability politics that distanced “acceptable” homosexuality from leather culture, promiscuity and public sex.

But Cruising had its defenders. As renowned film scholar and critic Robin Wood argued, “the film’s real villain is revealed as patriarchal domination,” visible in the killer’s abusive father and in corrupt police officers whose cruelty and virulent homophobia permeate the film.

Friedkin also shot scenes in real leather bars and cast members of the leather community as extras, suggesting a more complicated relationship with the subculture it portrayed.

However one reads it, Cruising is a dark film. Forty-five years later, Pillion, which also collaborated with the leather community, places many of the same kinky elements in a much brighter light.




Read more:
Pup Play: Kink communities can help people build connections and improve their body image


Rewriting the script

While Cruising belongs to the erotic thriller tradition, Pillion unfolds as a romantic comedy. Colin (Harry Melling), a guileless, inexperienced man still living with his parents, discovers his “aptitude for devotion” with Ray (Alexander Skarsgård), a gruff leather dom biker who prefers wrestling to kissing as first base.

Trailer for Pillion.

The opposites-attract trope fuels much of the film’s humour. After their first back-alley tryst, Ray rebuffs Colin’s attempt to spend more time together and walks away. Colin — perfectly polite, even in rejection — calls after him, “Thank you!” It’s funny not because he’s kinky, but because his dogged niceness captures the familiar awkwardness of a post-hookup goodbye.

The films also confront different kinds of discrimination. In Cruising, homophobia is blatant and often brutal. In Pillion, homophobia is beside the point. Colin’s mother isn’t troubled that her son is gay, for example. If anything, she hopes he’ll find a boyfriend. What unsettles her is the structure of his 24/7 relationship with Ray, a form of BDSM in which dominance and submission extend into everyday life.

That tension comes to a head in a memorable dinner scene with Colin’s parents. Ray coolly calls her reaction “ignorant,” casting her discomfort as a form of kink-phobia.

Intimacy and authenticity

In both Cruising and Pillion, kink becomes the catalyst through which the protagonist discovers new dimensions of his sexuality. In Cruising, that awakening is framed through psychic fragmentation. In Pillion, it becomes a story of connection: to a lover, to a community and ultimately to oneself.

In a break from familiar BDSM film conventions, the relationship neither escalates toward violence, as earlier BDSM narratives often did, nor tidy itself into domestic respectability, as more hetero happily-ever-after versions have done.

Crucially, Colin’s submissiveness is not about growing small or effacing himself. Instead, he becomes increasingly able to articulate his needs and assert his own identity.

The one stereotype Pillion does reproduce, however, is the dominant who hides his feelings. Popular culture often portrays tops as emotionally shut down, whether they’re men or women.

In sinister portrayals such as Cruising or Basic Instinct, dominance bleeds into violence. But even in positive depictions, such as Fifty Shades of Grey and Secretary, the dominant character is initially closed-off or commitment-phobic.

Pillion largely repeats this pattern. Ray keeps Colin at arm’s length, strictly dictating the terms of their relationship before gradually allowing him closer — at least for a moment.

Pillion offers something rare in mainstream cinema: a queer kinky love story that neither pathologizes nor punishes its characters, nor ends with a big fat gay wedding. Instead, it combines the sweetness of a romantic comedy with the sexiness of the leather scene, capturing the poignancy of two imperfect people grappling toward intimacy.

The Conversation

Ummni Khan 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. Kinky caricature no more: How ‘Pillion’ is rewriting BDSM cinema – https://theconversation.com/kinky-caricature-no-more-how-pillion-is-rewriting-bdsm-cinema-276592

The West has long characterized Iran’s oil as a prize to be claimed

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Ian Wereley, Adjunct Research Professor, Department of History, Carleton University

With the recent outbreak of hostilities in the Persian Gulf, the focus of international attention has returned to one of the world’s most important energy chokepoints: the Strait of Hormuz.

Roughly one-fifth of the world’s oil passes through this narrow strait. Its closure, alongside U.S.-Israeli attacks on Iran’s oil infrastructure — including the strategic export hub on Kharg Island — has raised fears of a protracted conflict as fuel prices soar.

Most news coverage and analysis has focused on the immediate threats posed by missiles, drones and mines, and the global implications of the strait’s closure.

But beneath these headlines lies a much deeper story.

For more than a century, Iran has occupied a powerful place in the western imagination, characterized as a volatile region that sits atop one of the world’s largest oil reserves.

Working within the energy humanities sub-field, my research and teaching focus on the early history of oil in Iran and the development of western oil cultures during the early 20th century.

The discovery that reshaped an empire

The story begins in May 1908, when drillers financed by the British-Australian entrepreneur William Knox D’Arcy struck oil in the rugged foothills of the Zagros Mountains in southwestern Persia, known after 1935 as Iran.

The discovery reshaped the region and the global oil industry. In 1909, the Anglo-Persian Oil Company — the precursor to British Petroleum (BP) — was established to exploit the newly discovered oilfields.

Within a few years, the company constructed a 200-kilometre pipeline network and a vast oil refinery and export complex on Abadan Island in the Persian Gulf. The refinery remains the largest in Iran.

From Abadan, tankers transported oil through the Strait of Hormuz to global markets, eventually powering ships, vehicles and industry across Europe.

Iranian oil quickly became central to British imperial strategy. In 1914, on the eve of the First World War, the British government acquired a controlling stake in BP to secure fuel supplies for the Royal Navy, which had recently transitioned from coal to oil under First Lord of the Admiralty, Winston Churchill.

Churchill later described the discovery of Iranian oil as a remarkable windfall for Britain: “Fortune rewarded the continuous and steadfast facing of these difficulties…and brought us a prize from fairyland far beyond our brightest hopes.”

From that moment onward, oil from Iran became deeply intertwined with the industrial and military power of the British Empire.




Read more:
Iran’s history has been blighted by interference from foreign powers


Imagining Persia and petroleum

After the war, BP shifted its focus from military supply to mass consumption, launching an elaborate marketing campaign to shape how British audiences understood Iran and its oil.

During the 1920s, British newspapers carried thousands of advertisements depicting Persian landscapes, history, culture and natural resources.

Among the most striking was the 12-part “Persian Series” in 1925, which paired evocative artwork with stories of British engineers operating in remote and challenging environments to provide fuel for the modern world.

Scenes of jagged mountain passes, desert caravans and ancient religious sites in Iran were juxtaposed with narratives of western technological mastery.

These messages extended beyond print. At the British Empire Exhibition of 1924-25, attended by more than 27 million visitors, BP constructed a full-scale replica of a traditional Iranian caravanserai, combining stylized cultural imagery with displays of modern oilfield equipment.

Persian symbolism was also embedded in the built environment created by BP. The company’s London headquarters, Britannic House (completed in 1925), featured sculptures of Iranian figures in traditional dress, their bodies displayed as captured loot from a distant resource frontier.

In the 1930s, BP further expanded their audience through films about life in Iran, screened for free at trade shows and fairs.

A narrative of commercial conquest

My PhD research describes how BP’s representations of Iran normalized the idea that western societies like Britain depended on energy drawn from the Middle East, and that controlling those resources was necessary and justified.

BP’s interwar marketing campaigns did more than promote its brand of gasoline. They helped construct a broader cultural understanding of Iran, its people and its oil resources.

The Zagros Mountains became the setting for a vast storytelling project about technological and cultural conquest in the Middle East.

Oil was presented as an exotic prize held captive beneath inhospitable landscapes, captured by western oil companies cast as heroic pioneers, and brought back for the enjoyment of British motorists. Oil development was marketed not as exploitation, but as an inevitable component of western modernity.

Meanwhile, Iranians appeared only at the margins, either as labourers or collateral damage in the larger drama of oil. “Gone are the captains and kings,” proclaimed one BP advertisement. “Their citadels are crumbled to dust.”

A century later, the great game for oil continues in Iran

In his 1978 book Orientalism, Palestinian literary scholar Edward Said observed:

“Always there lurks the assumption that although the western consumer belongs to a numerical minority, he is entitled either to own or to expend (or both) the majority of the world’s resources. Why? Because he, unlike the Oriental, is a true human being.”

That presumption has shaped western attitudes toward oil-producing regions for more than a century. In Iran specifically, it has led to a repeating cycle of conflict over its oil resources, with Iranian leaders often characterized as dangerous, unpredictable and greedy.

In 1953, the United Kingdom and the United States conspired to overthrow Iran’s elected prime minister, Mohammad Mossadegh, after he nationalized Iran’s oil industry.




Read more:
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In the 1920s, the perceived dangers associated with Iran were largely environmental: mountains to cross, deserts to traverse and infrastructure to build.

Today, the dangers are far more complex and geopolitical in nature, with risks focused on nuclear proliferation, religious conflicts and disruptions to global markets.

Yet, the underlying logic of the current war with Iran remains strikingly familiar: western military might is being marshalled to eliminate threats and capture the oil western leaders seek to control.

The Conversation

Ian Wereley previously received funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

ref. The West has long characterized Iran’s oil as a prize to be claimed – https://theconversation.com/the-west-has-long-characterized-irans-oil-as-a-prize-to-be-claimed-278379

How birds are spreading plastic pollution

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Andy J. Green, Professor of Freshwater Ecology, Estación Biológica de Doñana (EBD-CSIC); Manchester Metropolitan University

White storks and gulls feeding at a landfill. Enrique García Muñoz (FotoConCiencia), CC BY-NC-ND

Hungry gulls do not only steal our chips and sandwiches. They learn our habits, and look for reliable sources of food. That includes waste treatment centres, landfill or anywhere food waste is concentrated. Many gull populations have moved inland from the coast to exploit these sources of food.

Wherever our waste is processed, gulls and other birds can forage. At landfills, gulls feed on waste before it is covered up. If there are plastic or glass pieces covered in food that are small enough, gulls will swallow them whole. Only the food itself gets digested, and when the gull flies back to its roost site, the waste gets regurgitated, polluting that site. This movement of pollutants is known as “biovectoring”.

For the first time, scientists like me are now quantifying just how much plastic and other waste is being leaked into important nature areas through the daily movements of birds.

Many lesser black-backed gulls breeding in the UK and other parts of northern Europe migrate to Andalusia in southern Spain, where they form a wintering population of over 100,000 feeding mainly in rice fields and landfills. Fortunately, many of these birds are fitted with GPS tags while breeding. This enables detailed tracking of their movements.




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Fuente de Piedra lake in Málaga is a hotspot for migrating lesser black-backed gulls. This wetland has such special natural significance, it’s designated as an internationally important site under a global convention known as Ramsar. It’s most famous for the largest breeding colony of flamingos in Spain. Gulls fly up to 50 miles to landfills to feed, then fly back to roost.

By combining GPS data with waterbird counts, and analyses of regurgitated pellets, scientists have estimated that an average of 400kg of plastics, plus more than two tonnes of other debris such as glass, textiles or ceramics, are deposited by this gull species into the lake each year. This lake has no outflow, making it salty and hence flamingo friendly. Those imported plastics remain in the lake, breaking down into microplastics. They can be ingested by flamingo chicks, aquatic insects and other animals.

birds feeding on landfill
Two yellow-legged gulls chase a white stork that is carrying plastic in its bill, which it picked up at a landfill.
Enrique García Muñoz (FotoConCiencia), CC BY-NC-ND



Read more:
Plastic pollution threatens birds far out at sea – new research


In coastal Andalusia, these gulls join the resident yellow-legged gulls (equivalent to our herring gulls) and a mixture of migratory and resident white storks as the three major waterbird visitors to landfills.

In the Cádiz Bay wetlands (another Ramsar site), surrounding the historical city that is now a favourite stop for cruise ships, the three species combine to spread different types and sizes of plastics into different microhabitats. Annually, 530kg of plastics are deposited into wetlands via regurgitated pellets. Although a stork is bigger, so transports more waste per bird, most of the plastic is again moved by the lesser black-backed gulls that winter there in larger numbers.

hand holding plastic waste that had been eaten by a bird and partly digested
Plastic film regurgitated by a gull roosting in a field in Atherton, Greater Manchester.
Kane Brides, CC BY-NC-ND

This waste ingestion has strong effects on the birds themselves, through direct mortality from diseases, choking or becoming entangled with plastics, and toxic effects of the additives within them. Then after regurgitation in pellets, those plastics are a threat to all fauna and readily enter our food supply through aquaculture and table salt production, both important in Cádiz Bay.

These studies in Spain address a problem that is ongoing all over Europe. There are no comparable quantitative studies yet in the UK, but similar problems occur wherever gulls concentrate to feed on our waste. If white storks become abundant in the UK future, they will probably visit our landfills, together with gulls and perhaps cattle egrets.

The sealing of many landfills, and improvements in waste management may have contributed to recent declines in many gull populations in the UK and elsewhere. But these problems of plastic leakage will continue so long as our consumer society generates so much waste. Reducing waste, and reusing things is better than recycling, partly because food containers may get eaten by birds before they can be recycled. Cleaning our food containers before we bin them, and composting our own food waste, can also help to reduce this phenomenon.

The Conversation

Andy J. Green receives competitive research funding from the Andalusian and Spanish governments to study interactions between birds and plastics.

ref. How birds are spreading plastic pollution – https://theconversation.com/how-birds-are-spreading-plastic-pollution-276988

How BrewDog showed the limits of community capitalism

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Kingsley Omeihe, Senior lecturer of Marketing and Small Business, University of the West of Scotland

Graffixion/Shutterstock

When brewery and pub chain BrewDog invited customers to become shareholders through its “Equity for Punks” scheme, it appeared to represent a new model of capitalism. It invited beer enthusiasts to invest in the company and become small shareholders. This allowed the Scottish firm to present itself as a community built around rebellion, identity and participation.

For a time, the BrewDog model looked remarkably successful – the company was once valued at £2 billion. But after its sale to American cannabis and alcohol firm Tilray for just £33 million, it is clear that there is more to the story.

The real story here is not about one craft brewer. It is about a broader shift in modern capitalism, where companies increasingly use narratives to mobilise communities and raise capital. But at the same time, the institutional rules of finance still determine who gets what and when.

BrewDog raised substantial capital (said to be £75 million) from thousands of small investors who were already loyal to the brand. Instead of relying exclusively on banks, venture capital or institutional investors, the company mobilised its own community to fund growth. Customers became shareholders, while the firm strengthened its reputation as a disrupter within the industry.

Then came the bar closures, job losses and BrewDog’s sale to Tilray. These developments suggest that small investors from the Equity for Punks programme will see little financial return.

In general, supporters tend to see themselves as partners in an entrepreneurial journey. Yet legally they remain minority investors. And minority investors occupy a very specific position within the institutional architecture of capitalism.

The BrewDog story is a reminder that markets run on stories as well as money. The effect of this has been to blur the boundary between customer and investor.

We believe that people rarely invest only because of spreadsheets. Our research on entrepreneurship shows that economic behaviour is shaped by trust, narratives and shared identity as much as by financial indicators. And the American sociologist Mark Granovetter argued that markets are “embedded” in social networks, meaning that people invest in people – and in their stories.

This resonates with our broader research on how economic exchanges, including investments and purchases, are also often sustained through these factors. BrewDog’s Equity for Punks model captured this dynamic perfectly.

But there’s also a question around what it really means to be part of a community when the balance sheet starts to matter.

Cold beer, cold reality

Community narratives may mobilise people to invest their money, but a body of strict rules and regulations shapes the outcome. Three points here are particularly important.

First, while the equity-public model undoubtedly has appeal, it’s also true that companies operate within legal frameworks that determine ownership rights and the order in which creditors are repaid if the company is liquidated or sold.

Second, lenders and structured investors typically enjoy protections that small retail investors, like BrewDog’s punks, do not.

Third, corporate finance works through a hierarchy, so it should be recognised that this places creditors ahead of shareholders when companies face financial stress. Shareholders are last in line to recoup their money from a company – after lenders, tax authorities, employees and suppliers.

When customers invest in companies they admire, they often interpret their role differently from conventional shareholders. Under BrewDog’s Equity for Punks programme, thousands of customers bought small stakes in the company not just for potential financial returns.

This point resonates with our research on how businesses and communities interact. It shows that economic behaviour is often shaped by the rules, expectations and relationships that surround markets. In practice, this means that people do not make decisions based only on prices or profits.

interior of brewdog pub filled with drinkers and diners.
BrewDog’s fortunes have changed, with recent pub closures and layoffs.
photocritical/Shutterstock

None of this suggests bad faith on the part of companies like BrewDog. It simply reflects the fact that markets operate through institutions.

Episodes like the BrewDog one serve as a reminder of a basic feature of modern capitalism. That is, when financial pressure appears, institutional rules take over.

All that being said, community-driven investment models will probably become more common. Digital platforms make it easier than ever for firms to mobilise supporters around shared narratives and identities. But at the same time, the institutional rules that govern corporate finance have not evolved at the same pace as these new forms of participatory capitalism.

If modern capitalism increasingly invites people to invest not only their money but also their faith, the gap between narrative and institutional reality will become harder to ignore. Communities may power the stories that fuel entrepreneurship. But when the balance sheet tightens, it is still institutional rules that decide who gets paid.

BrewDog did not respond to a request to respond to the claims made in this article.

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. How BrewDog showed the limits of community capitalism – https://theconversation.com/how-brewdog-showed-the-limits-of-community-capitalism-278122