Category: English

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Cian T. McMahon, Professor of History, University of Nevada, Las Vegas

The Continental Army’s winter encampment at Valley Forge, between December 1777 and June 1778, is the stuff of legend. Chased out of Philadelphia by the British Army, George Washington and over 12,000 American troops retreated to Valley Forge, where they spent six long months harried by hunger, disease and the bitter cold.

In this context of frayed nerves and short tempers, a scuffle arose when some of the native-born soldiers antagonized the Irish recruits by dragging an effigy of a “stuffed Paddy” through camp on St. Patrick’s Day, March 17, 1778. The Irish, outraged at the sight of their patron saint being mocked, rose up to meet the challenge with their fists.

But George Washington quickly responded by claiming, “I, too, am a lover of St. Patrick’s Day.” He ordered an extra glass of grog for every man, “and thus all made merry and were good friends.”

By the late 1770s, people had been commemorating the anniversary of St. Patrick’s death – reputedly on March 17, 461 – for over a thousand years. Irish immigrants brought the tradition with them when they moved to North America, and officers in the Continental Army regularly used the holiday to bring glimmers of cheer to their cold and gloomy camps.

‘Till the nation is free’

In Morristown, New Jersey, in 1780, for example, Col. Francis Johnston insisted that “the celebration of (St. Patrick’s) Day should not pass by without having a little rum issued to the troops,” and he bought a small barrel to prove it. Accounts of the party were published in local newspapers.

“The whole army celebrated the day with that decorum which is characteristic of them, and which evidenced their attachment and unfeigned regard to the valiant Irish nation,” said an eyewitness. The soldiers’ dual loyalties to Ireland and America were reflected in the toasts they drank that day.

Cheers were raised for George Washington and “the American army,” but also for Irish patriots such as Henry Grattan and Henry Flood. “May the field pieces of Ireland bellow,” proclaimed one soldier, “till the nation is free.”

As the author of a forthcoming book on the global history of St. Patrick’s Day, the wartime popularity of St. Patrick’s Day does not strike me as surprising. Irish immigrants made up a sizable fraction of George Washington’s Continental Army during the American Revolution, partly because the war came on the heels of the first wave of modern mass migration from Ireland, which lasted from the early 1720s to the mid-1770s.

As a result, Irish newcomers, especially Presbyterians from Ulster, were overrepresented in the Middle Colonies of Pennsylvania, Delaware, New York and New Jersey when the war broke out. Their disproportionate enlistment accounts for the fact that Pennsylvania’s collection of infantry regiments and companies was nicknamed the “Line of Ireland” during the conflict.

Yet focusing on Irish patriots tells only half the story of what St. Patrick’s Day meant during the Revolutionary War era.

Plenty of Irishmen served as British redcoats throughout the war too.

‘Naturally gallant and loyal’

On March 17, 1779, 2½ years after capturing New York, the British army published a recruiting advertisement in the city’s Royal Gazette newspaper.

“All Gentlemen Natives of Ireland are invited to join the Volunteers of Ireland, commanded by their Countryman, Lord Rawdon,” the ad announced. Francis Rawdon, the scion of a wealthy Anglo-Irish Protestant family from County Down in the north of Ireland, was a dynamic army officer in his mid-20s and the perfect figurehead for this new regiment.

Later that evening, these Irish loyalists celebrated St. Patrick’s Day “with their accustomed Hilarity,” noted a local journalist. Lord Rawdon’s Volunteers of Ireland regiment led the way with a parade, followed by a banquet.

“The soldierly Appearance of the men, their Order of March, Hand in Hand, being all NATIVES OF IRELAND, had a striking effect,” gushed the New-York Gazette. Being “naturally gallant and loyal,” the Irish will always “crowd with Ardour to stand forth in the Cause of their King, of their Country, and of real, honest, general Liberty.”

To be Irish in New York in 1779 meant being loyal to the crown. But when the British evacuated New York four years later, they took their red coats – and their loyalist St. Patrick’s Days – with them.

Irish America’s many stories

In time, memories of these pro-British parades and banquets proved unseemly in the fledgling republic. They were subsequently written out of most histories of Irish America. The official website of the world-famous Manhattan St. Patrick’s Day parade, for example, makes no mention of these loyalist processions.

Yet taking a closer look at these forgotten chapters of history is important because it reminds us that there has always been a debate over what it means to truly “be Irish” in America.

In the 1770s, it was a conflict over loyalty to the crown. Today, it can mean disagreements about abortion, gun control or immigrants’ rights.

The truth lies buried in the many stories of Irish America.

Cian T. McMahon received funding for this project through a Hibernian Research Award from the Center for the Study of American Catholicism (CUSHWA).

– ref. Patriots and loyalists both rallied around St. Patrick’s Day during the Revolutionary War – https://theconversation.com/patriots-and-loyalists-both-rallied-around-st-patricks-day-during-the-revolutionary-war-274807

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Andres Bustamante, Associate Professor of Education, University of California, Irvine

Use of generative artificial intelligence technology is already widespread in K-12 schools and higher education. Now, AI technologies such as conversational agents and tablet-based assessments are starting to make their way toward early childhood education.

One concern with AI in a prekindergarten setting is that the technology will replace or disrupt the rich interactions and deep relational bonds between children and their caregivers. Another worry is that AI systems will reproduce discrimination related to race, gender and socioeconomic status, which could reinforce stereotypes and biases.

What if, instead, this technology was used to uplift marginalized voices rather than silence them?

We are part of a team of developmental psychologists, learning scientists, early childhood educators and community leaders creating AI-based tools designed to enrich caregiver-child interactions. Instead of replacing parents, we use technology to involve them in the creation of educational material, allowing them to bring their lived experience to their child’s learning.

Early childhood education research shows that children engage more deeply and learn more effectively when learning environments build on their experiences and connect to their families’ cultural practices. Our work with generative AI builds on a larger set of research projects where we codesign early learning spaces with children and families.

Culture in early learning

Many technologies marginalize low-income, immigrant and racially minoritized families in their children’s education. Our work is designed to do the opposite: amplify the voices of families and empower them to be the drivers of their children’s learning.

It is grounded in a long-term partnership between the University of California Irvine School of Education and the Santa Ana Early Learning Initiative, or SAELI, a grassroots community organization focused on early education led by over 300 families in Santa Ana, California, a predominately Latino community.

In a recent project, we partnered with researchers from UC Irvine, Harvard and University of Michigan to design e-books with families from SAELI and En Nuestra Lengua, a nonprofit that runs early education programs for Spanish speakers in Michigan. We convened families in Santa Ana and Michigan and supported them in using generative AI to produce content that serves as a “first draft” of an educational e-book.

For example, families in our sessions talked about how their children use technology to stay connected to grandparents who still live in their home countries. That theme inspired a group of parents to write a story – by writing a series of prompts into ChatGPT using a laptop – about a young boy who video-chats with his grandfather in Mexico to learn how to grow corn. Parents also used an AI image generator to produce concept art for the stories.

After families reviewed the images, they highlighted the reasons they liked certain parts and disliked others and revised the prompts to make images that represented their ideas. Our team revised the stories, connected them with pre-K science learning standards and then collaborated with a visual artist, Ernesto Domecq Menéndez, who used the AI-generated images as inspiration for the books’ illustrations.

As part of another story, families noted that AI-generated content can reflect a common assumption in the U.S. – that “Latino” means “Mexican.” In response, families emphasized the diversity of Latin America by using generative AI to create a story about children from different countries who explore the science of cooking as they share family recipes for gorditas, arepas and pupusas. To an untrained eye the dishes look similar, but the families highlighted the distinct ingredients, preparation techniques and meanings behind each one. We worked with the families to tweak the AI prompt until they were happy with the story draft output.

Taken together, these examples show how pairing community collaboration with AI tools can create early educational content that reflects families’ experiences – and represent them the way they want to be seen. When children and families see themselves and their communities represented in STEM learning experiences, it can foster positive identity and self-efficacy in STEM domains.

AI as a conversational partner in learning

This project builds on previous work that integrated AI conversational agents, such as Siri or Alexa, into children’s media so the main character of the story can ask children questions to reinforce learning.

We are embedding the same technology in these e-books so the characters in the story can ask children questions at key learning moments and engage in back-and-forth conversation to reinforce the big science learning goals.

This approach builds on a long history of developmental research that shows strategically placed questions during book reading lead to increased learning and improve children’s language skills.

Learning and connection in the community

We have also applied this approach in a community health clinic. In an ongoing project, we are partnering with SAELI families and researchers from UC Irvine, Boston College and University of Illinois Chicago to incorporate playful learning activities into the waiting rooms at the Children’s Hospital of Orange County.

In codesign sessions with families and providers, one of the main themes that emerged was the desire to build a strong sense of community at the clinic. One family suggested we design a “chismografo,” or a shared “gossip notebook,” that was popular in Latin America in the 1990s and early 2000s. In those sessions, providers also shared tensions of wanting to be able to connect with families and build a relationship but also needing to minimize wait times.

In response, we plan to use a simple AI platform to prompt families waiting to see their pediatrician to dictate into a tablet the ways they cook, play and relax before bedtime. The AI will summarize the information families share and create artifacts like badges that can be displayed on a clinic “chismografo” so families can learn about each other.

The AI will also provide a summary to the pediatrician so they can learn something about the family and engage in conversation around nutrition, physical activity and sleep routines that build from families’ everyday practices. In this way, AI is used as a tool to enhance communication and connection between families and providers.

Customizing and scaling up

While the examples provided here are unique to the communities that designed them, and might not resonate in the same way in other places, AI offers a platform for educators and families to create their own resources and experiences.

This approach addresses a major tension in education research – cocreating educational resources with the people they are intended for enhances usability, meaningfulness and effectiveness. However, when you customize or adapt a resource for a specific community or population, it can become less usable in other places. Generative AI can be used to continuously design and adapt early learning resources, customizing them for different communities.

Critically, this work is best done in partnerships between families, educators, early learning researchers, artists and technology designers whose collective expertise leads to products that none of them could have made on their own.

The research referenced in this article was supported by the National Science Foundation’s Advancing Informal STEM Learning (AISL) Program Award #2415882 and the Heising-Simons Foundation Award #2024-5105.

Aria Gastón-Panthaki does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Generative AI can play a role uplifting family and community in early childhood education – https://theconversation.com/generative-ai-can-play-a-role-uplifting-family-and-community-in-early-childhood-education-272237

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Brendan Cantwell, Professor of Higher, Adult, and Lifelong Education, Michigan State University

Several prominent universities, including Columbia University and the University of Pennsylvania, made headlines in 2025 in a dizzying back-and-forth with the federal government. The Trump administration cut large amounts of research funding to universities. Some pushed back, and others hatched settlements to get the money restored.

So how have these confrontations between higher education and the White House played out over the past year, now that they have dropped out of the spotlight?

Amy Lieberman, education editor at The Conversation U.S., spoke with Brendan Cantwell, a scholar of higher education at Michigan State University, to understand how the Trump administration is adopting a more subtle tactic to block funding to universities.

Where does Trump’s attempt to withdraw funding from universities stand?

Several universities entered into settlements with the Trump administration in 2025 – including the University of Pennsylvania, Columbia University, Cornell University, Northwestern University and Brown University – to restore research funding the government pulled. We don’t really know how those deals are being enforced. They appear to be working, in the sense that the government has not complained and the schools have received the targeted funding that the government canceled.

In another case, Harvard University never entered into a deal with the Trump administration and instead sued the government in April 2025 to block a US$2.7 billion funding freeze. Federal courts restored Harvard’s funding, but we don’t have a lot of specific knowledge on how this funding was restored. The government appealed this ruling in December 2025.

In October, the administration also proposed an agreement, called the Compact for Academic Excellence in Higher Education, that would provide funding advantages for universities that agreed to change their admissions practices to cap the percentage of international students that they enroll, among other policy shifts.

There was almost universal skepticism and condemnation of this deal among schools, and it fell apart, aside from a few small schools not initially invited that said they would sign on.

What is your research focused on right now?

I am thinking about how the administration is shifting from making targeted deals with universities and more toward using legislative and rule-making processes to achieve its goals.

These deals with universities in 2025 were really unusual. I think they are going to become less and less effective for the administration, as they face losses in court. Universities have also realized that they could not agree to a deal with the administration and still prevail.

Now, we are seeing the administration impose its priorities in other ways, in part through President Donald Trump’s 2025 big tax and spending cuts and new rules at the Department of Education. This approach retains the Trump administration’s ideological preferences, but uses more normal routes.

Are they placing more limits on research funding, or what is the goal?

The Trump administration in 2025 wanted to reduce funding dramatically to the National Institutes of Health, the National Science Foundation – and to NASA, in particular. Congress rejected those requests and instead produced what was essentially a level funding picture for university research.

What isn’t clear is how much of the money appropriated by Congress is going to make its way into new grants for research. Much of the funding that Congress appropriated, so far, has not been released.

We know that in 2025, federal agencies made fewer grants than in past years. The grants the government did make tended to be a bit larger, and winning a grant became more competitive. This approach gives the administration more flexibility in funding the kinds of projects that it prefers.

In my assessment, it seems likely that the government will do the same again this year. The administration may also attempt to withhold a portion of the money that Congress appropriated for scientific research.

Over the course of the year, we are going to see how this plays out. Is the administration just dragging its feet, using whatever administrative levers it has to slow-walk things? Or, is it going to attempt to divert research funding to other priorities and now spend it in a way that Congress did not appropriate? We don’t really know. I do know that universities and scientific research organizations are very concerned about this possibility.

If this money doesn’t start to flow, we probably will see legal challenges from universities and scientific organizations.

How long does it take for delayed funding to become evident in research?

The effects are almost immediate and then build over time.

Some of the grants we expected to be awarded in the first two months of the year have not been awarded. In 2025, thousands of grants were canceled and some agencies made up to 25% fewer grants than they had awarded in prior years.

As the year goes on, unless the pace of awards increases, we can expect the total amount of money that goes out to researchers to be even lower than it was in 2025.

This is the bottom line: Congress continues to fund research, but all money is not making its way to researchers.

What does it look like as the Trump administration shifts its tactics?

One of the ways the administration seems like it will go after universities is by making it harder for students to qualify for student loans. The tax and spending cuts bill, for example, put caps on federal student loan borrowing at the graduate level.

This is more of a normal conservative idea; that the availability of student loans has encouraged universities to offer more low-quality programs at the undergraduate and graduate level which don’t help students. I think these conservative ideas with some mainstream appeal may be the focus of the administration moving forward, in addition to administrative foot-dragging.

Overall, I think that we may see less of these big, direct confrontations between the Trump administration and universities. It worked in the sense that they got some initial concessions from universities, but it is not really clear if those concessions amounted to a major victory for the administration.

The political boundaries of research are also becoming narrower. You can’t do climate research and expect to get federal funding right now.

I think that the federal government is going to continue to restrict money from universities. There is going to be this persistent, progressive shrinking of research funding. But the administration has either not been willing or able to impose a sudden collapse of university funding and bring schools to their knees.

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

– ref. Universities survived Trump’s 2025 funding freeze, but the money still isn’t flowing to researchers – https://theconversation.com/universities-survived-trumps-2025-funding-freeze-but-the-money-still-isnt-flowing-to-researchers-277716

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Conrad Kickert, Associate Professor of Architecture, University at Buffalo

Like many young, urban professionals, we run on coffee. We especially enjoy frequenting independently owned cafes that pride themselves on ethically sourced beverages, strong local ties and a hip aesthetic.

They’re the kinds of places that sneer at the homogenization and predictability of Tim Hortons, Second Cup, Dunkin and Starbucks.

But as public space and consumer culture researchers, we began noticing a pattern: While the invention of new, nondairy milks to mix into lattes continues to amaze us, many U.S. coffee shops seemed to share a similar aesthetic.

What was up with all the exposed brick? Why did so many of the baristas look cooler than us, but also so similar to one another? And why did most menus appear on a chalkboard, as if we were still in kindergarten?

Weren’t we supposed to be in one-of-a-kind, authentic settings that make us feel unique and, let’s admit it, slightly elevated?

As it turns out, the visual patterns we noticed had never been backed up by research. So after a quick cortado, we set out to test our hunch that local coffee shops had adopted a uniform aesthetic.

Measuring homogeneity

We asked over 100 American and Canadian young professionals living in cities to share an interior image of their favorite independent coffee shop, describe why they liked the shop’s appearance, and document aspects of its interior design.

They could select these interior design features from a list of 23 common elements that we had identified in a pilot study – brick walls, marble counters, indoor plants, local art, vintage furniture and even the look of the baristas. Respondents could also write down other details they noticed.

The elements that they selected and wrote down showed a fascinating overlap.

Baristas led the pack: Two-thirds of the participants’ favorite local coffee shops had staff with tattoos or piercings. Over half had baristas with beards. Well over half of the respondents noted that their favorite shop had chalkboards, reclaimed wood features, local art, milk foam designs on beverages, local event posters and exposed brick. A large share of the shops had vintage furniture, community message boards and free books available to patrons to read. One-third of the images had indoor plants, trees or greenery.

Next up, we challenged the participants to identify the city where these coffee shops were located.

Using the images provided by the respondents from the initial survey, we asked 158 new and prior participants if they could match the location of the shops depicted in six photographs to Cincinnati, St. Louis or Toronto – cities chosen for their different architectural and aesthetic qualities.

Not a single participant was able to correctly identify the correct city for all the photos.

We gave respondents another chance by showing two pictures of coffee shops, one at a time. This time, the two shops were located in Chicago and San Francisco – again, places that pride themselves on their unique and recognizable design culture. They were now given the choice of these key cities to select from, as well as three wrong cities. Only 6% successfully located both coffee shops, and nearly 20% immediately gave up.

As one participant conceded: “Honestly, these aesthetics are very transferable now … they were random guesses and they could have been in any of the cities mentioned.”

In other words, independent coffee shops in North America have become so similar aesthetically that their location cannot be picked from a lineup. The purportedly unique and local feel of coffee shops has instead been homogenized into a singular, palatable, North American aesthetic.

Ironically, these shops have narrowed their aesthetics like a de facto brand franchise – exactly like the chain stores that their patrons ostensibly reject.

Computers and capital

So why is this happening?

New Yorker cultural critic Kyle Chayka has attributed aesthetic homogenization to popular social media platforms like Instagram. He calls it the “tyranny of the algorithm”: Social media algorithms promote the visuals that users are most likely to engage with. This, in turn, causes the same types of visuals to be liked and shared, since users encounter them more often. Because the algorithm sees they’re popular, it continues to promote them, in a self-reinforcing cycle. In turn, coffee shop owners also see these online images and try to replicate them in their own establishments.

Artificial intelligence will likely accelerate the digital homogenization of visual culture, since AI models are trained on massive datasets that feature widely circulated images. Whether it’s popular fashion, architecture or interior design, idiosyncrasies are collapsing into a generic, hegemonic aesthetic – what scholars Roland Meyer and Jacob Birken call “platform realism.”

Finance plays a role as well. With the average cost of starting a new coffee shop between US$80,000 and $300,000, and with only a small share of coffee shops expected to stay open beyond five years, banks are keen to reduce their risk. Many of them will therefore ask aspiring coffee shop owners to opt for cheaper interior design choices that appeal to the broadest customer base.

The consumer also plays a role

But patrons of hip coffee shops may also be to blame.

Decades before the rise of social media, AI and financial risk management, scholars such as Sharon Zukin revealed how young urban professionals paradoxically embrace the homogenization of their environment in their quest for authenticity.

Those exposed brick walls? Zukin already described how Manhattan real estate brokers had marketed them to gentrifying SoHo yuppies in the early 1980s.

Like their predecessors, today’s hipsters, creative professionals and knowledge workers are essentially cultural and aesthetic consumers. Many of them crave visuals – from fashion to architecture – that are different enough to feel cool and authentic, yet safe enough to match their lifestyle and their social status. They want a tasty latte as much as a palatable interior to drink it in.

Businesses and developers are eager to appeal to these upwardly mobile consumers. At the same time, they want to reach the biggest number of customers. So they tend to create repeatable, homogenized environments in what Zukin describes as a “symbolic economy.”

In coffee shops, patrons want more than a good espresso. They want to immerse themselves in a “scene” that matches their lifestyle and aspirations. And the exposed brick and the vintage furniture do just that – even if they’ve been copy-and-pasted in cities, small and large, across the nation.

As we chase authenticity, we may just be finding comfort in carefully curated conformity.

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

– ref. Indie coffee shops are meant to counter corporate behemoths like Starbucks – so why do they all look the same? – https://theconversation.com/indie-coffee-shops-are-meant-to-counter-corporate-behemoths-like-starbucks-so-why-do-they-all-look-the-same-275746

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Brett Whalen, Professor of History, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

During the National Prayer Breakfast on Feb. 5, 2026, Paula White-Cain, senior adviser to the White House Office of Faith, introduced President Donald Trump as “the greatest champion of faith that we have ever had in the executive branch.” Taking the podium after her, Trump declared, “I’ve done more for religion than any other president.”

Should an earthly leader be promoting a heavenly cause? Some of the Americans who say “yes” – by no means all – are likely sympathetic to the ideas and values of Christian nationalism. A blanket term, Christian nationalism ranges in meaning. Some citizens might see themselves as Christian nationalists simply because they are Christian and patriotic. Others, however, assert that the United States is rightfully a Christian nation that ought to be governed by Christian leaders, ethics and laws.

As a historian, I’m aware that Christian nationalism relies upon a selective and often distorted view of American history. As a historian of the European Middle Ages, in particular, I’m interested in another myth of a shared Christian past that seems to lie beneath the surface of some Christian nationalist claims. That’s the idea of the medieval Christian West, also known as “Christendom”: a time before the modern separation of church and state.

1,000 years

What was Christendom? Similar to Christian nationalism, the term can mean different things to different people.

It generally recalls a long period of time – 1,000 years, give or take – between the “fall” of Rome around 500 C.E. and the beginning of the modern era around 1500. Christianity dominated European politics, society and culture. The Middle Ages really were an era when kings ruled in Christ’s name, when the popes of Rome commanded obedience from believers around Europe, and when monasteries played a crucial role in the shaping of values and education.

In recent years, though, I’ve observed puzzling and ahistorical ways that the concept of Christendom has started to appear in certain corners of conservative political thought. That era of Christian dominion is sometimes remembered as a lost age of Christian unity, a time when religion and politics were “properly” aligned.

Such views don’t map neatly onto any partisan position or religious affiliation. The Catholic-inspired website The Josias, for example, a guide “for those who wish to bring their faith into the public square and resist the tides of liberalism, modernism, and ignorance of tradition,” is filled with works by medieval thinkers.

In some conservative Protestant circles, one finds yearnings for the creation of a “new Christendom,” an “American Christendom,” or, as pastor Doug Wilson calls it, “mere Christendom.”

Wilson is the founder of the Communion of Reformed Evangelical Churches – one of which Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth attends. Wilson says that his vision of “mere” Christendom does not entail a return to theocracy but “a network of nations bound together by a formal, public, civic acknowledgment of the Lordship of Jesus Christ, and the fundamental truth of the Apostles’ Creed.”

In his 2023 book “The Boniface Option,” minister Andrew Isker calls for Christians to fight for the creation of “new Christendom.” He also co-authored 2022’s “Christian Nationalism: A Biblical Guide for Taking Dominion and Disciplining Nations.”

From a historical perspective, there are numerous problems with such views of Christendom. For starters, they erase the reality that, while Christian authorities governed Christian-majority kingdoms during the Middle Ages, Europe was also home to Jewish and Muslims communities. They also paper over the fact that medieval Christians themselves never reached a consensus over the proper relationship between worldly and spiritual powers – or, as we might call them today, church and state.

Faith and empire

When I teach on religion and politics, I compare two late ancient thinkers whose works left profound legacies on the medieval world: the first historian of the church, Eusebius of Caesarea; and the immensely influential theologian, Saint Augustine.

Writing in the fourth century, Eusebius celebrated the reign of the first Christian Roman emperor, Constantine, who ruled from 306-337. The story of Constantine’s conversion is famous. As Eusebius told it, the emperor was marching toward Rome during a civil war when he saw a radiant “cross-shaped” vision in the sky, accompanied by the words “by this conquer.” That night, the “Christ of God” appeared to the emperor in a dream and told him to march to war under that sign, which he did with victory.

From Eusebius’ perspective, there was a lot to celebrate about Constantine’s reign. Constantine ended the persecution of Christians unleashed by his predecessors. Under his direction, imperial money flooded into clerical hands, followed by a wave of church building around the empire. The emperor granted bishops legal privileges and tax exemptions, and he called church councils to resolve disputes over Christian doctrine and organization.

In Eusebius’ eyes, this was all part of the divine plan. As he wrote, God had intended since the beginning for the “two shoots” of the “empire” and the “gospel of Christ” to intertwine, grafted together in harmony. Pagan Rome, Eusebius claimed, had subdued the peoples of the world. Under Constantine, its rule was bringing the “good news” of Christianity to all those conquered nations.

This kind of boosterism for Christian monarchs, hailed as “champions of the faith,” would endure throughout the Middle Ages and beyond. The Byzantine Empire, the Carolingian Empire, the Holy Roman Empire, Christian kingdoms from England to Armenia: Supporters saw their worldly power as representing the heavenly power of Christ, the “King of kings.” This was, in effect, a kind of Christian nationalism before the rise of modern nations.

‘Not of this world’

Yet medieval Christian thinkers also maintained skepticism about the ability of temporal princes to realize God’s kingdom here on Earth.

This is where Augustine, who wrote “The City of God” in the early fifth century, comes into the picture. Augustine was a prolific writer and immensely complicated thinker whose views changed across the course of his lifetime. Similar to Eusebius, he believed that God determined the fate of all empires and kingdoms, whether Christian or not.

Augustine supported the right of rulers to wage “just wars” and use force to maintain public order. Still, the bishop of Hippo hit the brakes on unbridled enthusiasm for the divinely appointed role of earthly empires and kingdoms, even if their rulers were Christian.

Living through the aftermath of Rome’s plundering in 410 by the Visigoths, Augustine keenly appreciated the fact that empires come and go. True happiness for Christian princes didn’t come from seeking their own personal ends: winning battles, gaining the most territory, leaving their thrones to their heirs, and conquering their enemies. It came from putting their “power at the service of God’s mercy” and the greater good. “Remove justice,” Augustine asked in “The City of God,” “and what are kingdoms but gangs of criminals on a large scale?”

In Augustine’s view, which profoundly influenced medieval theologians and political thinkers, this world was the transitory “City of Man,” filled with love of self and lust for domination. What really mattered was the eternal “City of God.” There was nothing wrong with Christian kingdoms, empires and nations, he thought, but there was nothing especially blessed about them, either. After all, hadn’t Jesus said in the Gospels, “My kingdom is not of this world”?

There has never been a singular Christian perspective on the relationship between faith, power and political identities. There certainly wasn’t in the world of medieval Christendom. To suggest otherwise is a fantasy that misrepresents the sophistication of Christian political thought during the Middle Ages – and in the present.

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

– ref. Notions of ‘Christendom’ often miss the mark – medieval Europe’s ideas about faith and power were not so simple – https://theconversation.com/notions-of-christendom-often-miss-the-mark-medieval-europes-ideas-about-faith-and-power-were-not-so-simple-275285

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By François Leroy, Postdoctoral Researcher in Ecology, The Ohio State University

Since the 1970s, the U.S. has lost billions of birds. We now know that those losses aren’t just growing – they are accelerating in places with intensive human activity, particularly where agriculture and expanding communities are changing the landscape.

Bird population declines have been closely linked to pollution, use of chemicals and physical changes to their habitats.

But human pressures on nature are not just continuing; they are increasing at an accelerating rate. Indicators of human activity, such as population growth, economic growth and transportation use, rose more rapidly after the 1950s, as did measures of environmental change, from atmospheric carbon dioxide levels to tropical forest loss.

In a new study published in the journal Science, my colleagues and I found that bird populations are responding in the same way: Their declines are speeding up, particularly in regions dominated by intensive agriculture.

It’s not just that there are fewer birds each year. In some places, each year brings larger losses than the one before.

Where bird populations are shrinking faster

Using data from the North American Breeding Bird Survey, we analyzed bird population changes for 261 species across the contiguous U.S. between 1987 and 2021.

We found that, on average, bird numbers declined by about 15% – for every six birds in 1987, there were only five three decades later. Nearly half of the species we examined showed significant population declines, with the strongest declines observed for the common grackle, the European starling and the red-winged blackbird.

The North American Breeding Bird Survey is one of the longest-running wildlife monitoring programs in the world. Since 1969, trained volunteers have counted birds along thousands of fixed routes across the U.S. and Canada during the breeding season, when birds are reproducing, nesting, laying eggs or raising young.

Because the survey spans decades, a continent and hundreds of species, it provides an unparalleled window into how bird populations are changing over time.

Most studies using this data focus on whether populations are increasing or decreasing. In our study, we asked a different question: Are those trends themselves speeding up or slowing down?

When we examined how the decline of birds evolved over time, a striking pattern emerged.

The losses were strongest in southern parts of the United States – a pattern consistent with previous research that linked bird declines to warm and warming regions. Many species have been found to struggle in hotter temperatures, or they shift their ranges toward cooler climates.

The Midwest, California and parts of the Mid-Atlantic region stood out as areas where bird declines are accelerating. Populations that were already shrinking in the late 1980s are now losing birds more rapidly than they did three decades ago.

These regions share a common feature: intensive agriculture. We measured agricultural intensity using indicators such as cropland area, fertilizer application and pesticide use around survey locations. Areas with higher agricultural intensity were more likely to have accelerating bird declines.

Why agriculture intensity can amplify decline

Modern agriculture transforms landscapes. Large cropland areas replace diverse habitats. Herbicides and pesticides used on farms reduce weeds and insects that many bird species depend on for food. Heavy machinery and reduced habitat diversity can limit nesting opportunities.

We cannot disentangle which agricultural practices are most responsible for the accelerating declines. Fertilizer use, pesticide application and land-use change often occur together. It is likely that multiple pressures interact to affect birds. However, studies have linked higher pesticide use to reductions in bird numbers, both directly through toxicity and indirectly through declines in insect prey. These findings suggest that chemicals may play an important role in amplifying population declines in agricultural regions.

We also found that agricultural intensity and temperature change may reinforce each other. Agricultural landscapes often lack shade trees, so they warm more than natural areas, potentially compounding climate-related stress on bird populations.

Why acceleration matters

Accelerating population declines are an early warning sign about birds’ well-being. A steady decline is concerning, but when losses grow larger year after year, it means the situation is getting worse faster.

Monitoring acceleration can help identify emerging hot spots before populations reach low levels, providing an early warning for conservation action.

Birds are more than just familiar backyard species. They help control insect pests, disperse seeds and regulate ecosystems. Because they are well monitored and sensitive to environmental change, they often provide an early indication of broader ecological shifts.

Nearly 40% of U.S. land is used for agriculture. How these landscapes are managed will shape the future for many birds, and farmers are thus at the forefront to address the biodiversity crisis. It’s also important to remember that agricultural workers themselves are the most exposed to the same chemicals that affect ecosystems, and a growing body of research has examined the health implications of pesticide exposure. Balancing food production, environmental sustainability and human health is a shared challenge.

Biodiversity responses to land management changes can occur quickly. So when habitats are restored or chemical pressures are reduced, birds and insects can return within years.

That potential for relatively rapid ecological recovery makes agricultural landscapes especially important. Our findings suggest that looking not only at how much biodiversity is changing, but also at how much those changes are speeding up, may offer a clearer picture of the pressures facing wildlife today.

François Leroy received funding from the National Science Foundation (OISE-2330423) and from the European Research Council (Grant No. 101044740). Views and opinions expressed are however those of the author(s) only and do not necessarily reflect those of the European Union or the European Research Council Executive Agency. Neither the European Union nor the granting authority can be held responsible for them.

– ref. Bird losses are accelerating across North America, particularly in farming regions where agriculture is most intensive – https://theconversation.com/bird-losses-are-accelerating-across-north-america-particularly-in-farming-regions-where-agriculture-is-most-intensive-276740

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Allie Mazurek, Engagement Climatologist and Researcher, Colorado Climate Center, Colorado State University

Curious Kids is a series for children of all ages. If you have a question you’d like an expert to answer, send it to CuriousKidsUS@theconversation.com.

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Why do we see snow on mountaintops that are closer to the Sun but not near the ground? – Ms. Drews’ third grade class, Beechview Elementary School, Farmington Hills, Michigan

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There’s not much better than a bluebird day in the mountains – a crisp, sunny day accompanied by a fresh blanket of snow. But why doesn’t the Sun quickly melt all that high altitude snow away?

It all boils down to our atmosphere, which is what I research as a scientist in Colorado. Let’s dive in!

Our atmosphere: Earth’s armor

Earth’s atmosphere begins right at its surface and extends to outer space, and it is filled with a mixture of many different gases. Gases in the atmosphere include the oxygen we breathe and the water vapor that makes it rain and snow. They are essential to supporting life on Earth in several ways.

One of the most important jobs those gases have is to protect us from harmful things in space, including our closest star: the Sun.

The Sun’s radiation provides heat to our planet, but too much of it can be a problem. If you’ve ever gotten a sunburn, then you’re already familiar with this idea.

Some of our atmospheric gases limit the amount of radiation from the Sun that can reach the Earth’s surface by absorbing some of it, which prevents temperatures from being way too warm in the daytime. At night, certain atmospheric gases also trap some of the heat that the Earth’s surface releases as it cools down, protecting us from unsurvivable cold.

The way the atmosphere regulates Earth’s temperatures is known as the greenhouse effect. You’ll often hear this term used alongside climate change or global warming. That is because global warming is caused by enhancing the greenhouse effect: As people burn fossil fuels in cars and factories, the amount of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere increases. These extra gases allow the Earth’s atmosphere to trap more heat, causing an increase in temperatures.

The atmosphere likes to stay grounded

If you were to compare the Earth’s atmosphere along a Caribbean beach to that surrounding the top of Mount Everest, it would look quite different.

That is because as you go higher up in the atmosphere, it gets “thinner,” meaning that there are less gases present at higher elevations and altitudes.

Why? Blame it on gravity.

In the same way that gravity keeps people and objects from flying away to outer space, Earth’s gravitational force pulls on the gases in our atmosphere, trying to keep them as close to Earth as possible.

As a result, there are fewer gas molecules in the atmosphere as you go higher up in altitude, making the air thinner, or less dense. Humans can sometimes experience altitude sickness at high elevations because there is less oxygen present in the air as a result of this phenomenon.

Closer to the Sun, but still cold and snowy?

Our high-elevation mountains protrude into higher altitudes of the atmosphere, where the air has fewer gas molecules. While this thinner air allows more of the Sun’s radiation to pass through compared with the atmosphere at sea level, thinner air tends to be colder for two reasons:

First, collisions between gas molecules generate heat, and if you have fewer molecules available to run into each other, that heat generation is lower.

Second, a thinner atmosphere is less effective at maintaining heat because there are fewer molecules available to trap and hold on to heat.

Colder temperatures can create more opportunities for precipitation to fall in the form of snow rather than rain, which is why some mountains can be so snowy.

And if the ground is habitually covered in snow, as is the case in many mountain ranges, it can be even easier to maintain cooler temperatures. That’s because snow-covered surfaces are very reflective, making them highly effective at causing the Sun’s incoming rays to bounce back toward space instead of getting absorbed by the ground.

So if you visit the mountains to have fun in the snow, be sure to pack your jacket, but don’t forget that sunscreen too.

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

– ref. Why do mountaintops stay snowy? – https://theconversation.com/why-do-mountaintops-stay-snowy-277560