Source: Radio New Zealand
Will you get through beach picnics unscathed this summer?
Or will you return from a swim only to find a seagull rifling through your bags for food?
Shouting should help to stop the gull in its tracks and make it fly off – as my team’s latest research shows.
When played recordings of men shouting “No! Stay away! That’s my food!”, gulls moved away.
Peter F Wolf
– Published by EveningReport.nz and AsiaPacificReport.nz, see: MIL OSI in partnership with Radio New Zealand
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Chantal Gautier, Senior Lecturer in Psychology and Sex and Relationship Therapist, University of Westminster
If you’re looking for a film that’s daring and emotionally layered, then Harry Lighton’s debut feature Pillion absolutely hits the mark. The film follows Colin (Harry Melling), a shy suburban guy stuck in routine and Ray (Alexander Skarsgård), a magnetic unreadable biker whose presence exudes both aloofness and intrigue.
What starts as a rough transactional alleyway hook-up, quickly shifts into a 24/7 BDSM (best understood when read in three pairs: bondage and discipline, domination and submission, sadism and masochism) dynamic built on power, ritual and control.
Within the broader framework of BDSM, Pillion situates Colin and Ray’s dynamic inside the concept of consensual total power exchange: a structured voluntarily arrangement in which a submissive (or “slave”) offers continuous obedience and service to a dominant (or “master”) extending beyond “scenes” and into daily life.
At its core Pillion explores power, eroticism, masculinity and identity. Lighton doesn’t shy away from the erotic elements. In fact, Lighton uses them as a springboard for deeper questions of self-definition. As we witness moments of submission and humiliation rituals (shot with a mix of tension and tenderness), we follow Colin’s emotional journey. From confusion to curiosity and eventually, a sense of charged enjoyment he didn’t expect, Colin finds himself surrendering in ways he never imagined.
One of the film’s most memorable sequences places submissives lined up face-down with bare backsides on picnic tables in the middle of a forest. Colin’s despair is unmistakable. It’s in these moments the film’s title snaps into sharp focus, clarifying who leads, who submits, and who rides pillion (the “bottom” in queer discourse).
Lighton solidifies dominant-submissive slave devotion with an unexpected sense of groundedness. The involvement of real-life members of the Gay Bikers Motorcycle Club amplifies the scene’s credibility, giving it a charged, lived-in authenticity.
But what symbolic or emotional function does control serve for Ray (if there is one, it might simply be this is what Ray is into – what we call their erotic template).
The film offers two compelling possibilities. First, the symbolic elements of BDSM (collars, rituals and rules) create a relationship framework that reaffirms the dominant-submissive bond of unity. For Ray, this connection doesn’t stem from emotional openness but from the stability he maintains through structure and control.
BDSM becomes a space where instructing Colin allows Ray to assert his identity through a style of masculinity that values control. Ray has deliberately curbed his emotional expression. At his core, he is someone who does not allow himself to need. So, for Ray, the dominant-submissive slave dynamic, becomes a mechanism for keeping vulnerability at bay.
Second, research on attachment styles suggest dominance within BDSM can offer the kind of predictability and structure that people with avoidant attachment styles often experience as safe. People like Ray who are uneasy with emotional closeness or unpredictability, may find reassurance in the clearly defined expectations of these dynamics. With emotional disclosure minimised and expectations clarified, the dominant role creates conditions that shield Ray from the forms of vulnerability he finds threatening.
The film’s exploration of masculinity deepens, revealing how societal and cultural norms shape what is considered “manly”. Ray embodies commonly held masculine ideals, including stoicism, self-control, confidence and a sculpted physique. Colin’s more submissive, compliant energy challenges these expectations, revealing masculinity as culturally shaped rather than fixed.
In his “slave” role, Colin embodies both conventional and unconventional masculinity. His surrender emerges as strength – endurance, discipline, sexual stamina. Because submissive roles demand patience, obedience and the resilience to meet discomfort (consensually), they cultivate qualities that expand, rather than diminish, the boundaries of masculinity, providing a more fluid and expansive understanding of masculine identity.
For Colin, the dominant-submissive slave journey becomes a path of self-discovery, allowing him to recognise what he wants, what he excels at – his “aptitude for devotion” – and ultimately who he is. His evolving masculine identity takes shape as he embraces the newly uncovered self, not with shame, but with authenticity.
The film makes clear that BDSM dynamics, despite popular assumptions, are not bound by gender. And while Pillion concentrates on a gay male relationship, the emotional terrain it explores – power, vulnerability and identity – resonate across genders.
Eventually, in pursuit of greater happiness Colin begins to question the arrangement, perhaps prompted by those rare fleeting moments when Ray lets his guard down. Summoning newfound courage, he asks for a “day off” from their daily dominant-submissive dynamic. After a chaotic and rebellious detour, Ray agrees to the new terms. But a question lingers at the film’s emotional core: can Ray allow himself to experience emotional closeness beyond his role as “master”?
Pillion is an emotionally intelligent multi-layered film, rich with moments of humour, wonder and rawness. Boldly provocative it immerses viewers in a world of BDSM, while challenging conventional assumptions about desire, relationships and identity. Lighton delivers a film anchored by exceptional performances from both its main cast and its supporting ensemble, crafting a story that sticks with you long after the credits rolls.
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Chantal Gautier 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. Pillion: what a sex therapy expert thinks of this domination-themed queer rom-com – https://theconversation.com/pillion-what-a-sex-therapy-expert-thinks-of-this-domination-themed-queer-rom-com-270224
Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Tevis Garrett Graddy-Lovelace, Provost Associate Professor of Environment, Development and Health, American University School of International Service
The U.S. government has caused massive food waste during President Donald Trump’s second term. Policies such as immigration raids, tariff changes and temporary and permanent cuts to food assistance programs have left farmers short of workers and money, food rotting in fields and warehouses, and millions of Americans hungry. And that doesn’t even include the administration’s actual destruction of edible food.
The U.S. government estimates that more than 47 million people in America don’t have enough food to eat – even with federal and state governments spending hundreds of billions of dollars a year on programs to help them.
Yet, huge amounts of food – on average in the U.S., as much as 40% of it – rots before being eaten. That amount is equivalent to 120 billion meals a year: more than twice as many meals as would be needed to feed those 47 million hungry Americans three times a day for an entire year.
This colossal waste has enormous economic costs and renders useless all the water and resources used to grow the food. In addition, as it rots, the wasted food emits in the U.S. alone over 4 million metric tons of methane – a heat-trapping greenhouse gas.
As a scholar of wasted food, I have watched this problem worsen since Trump began his second term in January 2025. Despite this administration’s claim of streamlining the government to make its operations more efficient, a range of recent federal policies have, in fact, exacerbated food wastage.
Supplying fresh foods, such as fruits, vegetables and dairy, requires skilled workers on tight timelines to ensure ripeness, freshness and high quality.
The Trump administration’s widespread efforts to arrest and deport immigrants have sent Immigration and Customs Enforcement, the Border Patrol and other agencies into hundreds of agricultural fields, meat processing plants and food production and distribution sites. Supported by billions of taxpayer dollars, they have arrested thousands of food workers and farmworkers – with lethal consequences at times.
Dozens of raids have not only violated immigrants’ human rights and torn families apart: They have jeopardized the national food supply. Farmworkers already work physically hard jobs for low wages. In legitimate fear for their lives and liberty, reports indicate that in some places 70% of people harvesting, processing and distributing food stopped showing up to work by mid-2025.
News reports have identified many instances where crops have been left to rot in abandoned fields. Even the U.S. Department of Labor declared in October 2025 that aggressive farm raids drive farmworkers into hiding, leave substantial amounts of food unharvested and thus pose a “risk of supply shock-induced food shortages.”
When the Trump administration all but shut down the U.S. Agency for International Development in early 2025, the agency had 500 tons of ready-to-eat, high-energy biscuits worth US$800,000, stored to distribute to starving people around the world who had been displaced by violence or natural disasters. With no staff to distribute the biscuits, they expired while sitting in a warehouse in Dubai.
Incinerating the out-of-date biscuits reportedly cost an additional $125,000.
An additional 70,000 tons of USAID food aid may also have been destroyed.
In the late 20th century, as globalized trade patterns grew, U.S. farmers struggled with agricultural prices below their production costs. Yet tariffs in the first Trump administration did not protect small farms.
And the tariffs imposed in early 2025, after Trump regained the White House, severed U.S. soybean trade with China for months. Meanwhile, there’s nowhere to store the mountains of soybeans. An October 2025 agreement may resume some activity, but at lower price levels and a slower pace than before, as China looks to Brazil and Argentina to meet its vast demand.
Though the soybeans were intended to feed the Chinese pig industry, not humans, the specter of waste looms both in terms of the potential spoilage of soybeans and the actual human food that could have been grown in their place.
Since taking office, the second Trump administration has taken many steps aimed at efficiency that actually boosted food waste. Mass firings of food safety personnel risks even more outbreaks of foodborne diseases, tainted imports, and agricultural pathogens – which can erupt into crises requiring mass destruction, for instance, of nearly 35,000 turkeys with bird flu in Utah.
In addition, the administration canceled a popular program that helped schools and food banks buy food from local farmers, though many of the crops had already been planted when the cancellation announcement was made. That food had to find new buyers or risk being wasted, too. And the farmers were unable to count on a key revenue source to keep their farms afloat.
Also, the administration slashed funding for the Federal Emergency Management Agency that helped food producers, restaurants and households recover from disasters – including restoring power to food-storage refrigeration.
The fall 2025 government shutdown left the government’s major food aid program, SNAP, in limbo for weeks, derailing communities’ ability to meet their basic needs. Grocers, who benefit substantially from SNAP funds, announced discounts for SNAP recipients – to help them afford food and to keep food supplies moving before they rotted. The Department of Agriculture ordered them not to, saying SNAP customers must pay the same prices as other customers.
Food waste did not start with the Trump administration. But the administration’s policies – though they claim to be seeking efficiency – have compounded voluminous waste at a time of growing need. This Thanksgiving, think about wasted food – as a problem, and as a symptom of larger problems.
American University School of International Service master’s student Laurel Levin contributed to the writing of this article.
Garrett Graddy-Lovelace received funding from the NSF Multiscale RECIPES for Sustainable Food Systems project.
– ref. As US hunger rises, Trump administration’s ‘efficiency’ goals cause massive food waste – https://theconversation.com/as-us-hunger-rises-trump-administrations-efficiency-goals-cause-massive-food-waste-270027
Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Stephen Siff, Associate Professor of Journalism, Miami University
As the Detroit Lions barrel toward a Thanksgiving Day game with the Green Bay Packers, some die-hard fans may be fantasizing about what it would be like to be on the field themselves: calling plays from the Lions huddle, accepting the snap from between a crouching center’s thighs, and spinning to hand off the football before the defensive linemen come crashing down.
In 1963, Lions head coach George Wilson allowed writer and Paris Review editor George Plimpton to enact that fantasy.
With a Sports Illustrated contract in hand, Plimpton convinced Lions management to allow him to enter preseason training camp at Cranbrook, the private boys school in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan. His plan was to go undercover as a rookie quarterback for a magazine article that would reach dramatic culmination when he called a series of plays in a game of professional football.
No one expected the amateur athlete to survive for long on a field with real-life Lions. But in writing about the experience, Plimpton turned off-field fandom and on-field bumbling into literary gold.
His resulting 1966 book, “Paper Lion: Confessions of a Last-String Quarterback,” became a bestseller that was praised by The New York Times as “one of the greatest books written on sports, and the most thoroughly engaging book on any subject in recent memory.”
A 1968 movie based on the book starred Alan Alda as Plimpton and members of the 1967 Lions team as themselves.
Decades before I became a journalism professor at Miami University of Ohio, I discovered Plimpton’s sportswriting from reading the paperback versions I found on my parents’ bookshelves. Plimpton was a leading member of a mid-20th-century class of literary journalists, including Tom Wolfe, Truman Capote, Gay Talese and Norman Mailer, who were becoming known for applying novelistic techniques and sometimes personal, subjective perspectives to nonfiction.
While the other literati tackled heavy topics, Plimpton’s engaging, conversational prose goofed around on the fringes of pro sports. Many of his books followed the same “participatory journalism” formula. He wrote about pitching against MLB all-stars, traveling with the PGA tour, boxing a bout against Archie Moore and playing with the Boston Bruins.
Those were just the full-length books. Other television and magazine projects had Plimpton competing in tennis and bridge; performing stand-up comedy; acting in a Western; playing with the New York Philharmonic; and attempting to be an aerialist with the circus.
However, he is best known for trying his hand quarterbacking for the Lions.
In some ways, Plimpton seemed exactly the wrong person for this job. The possessor of a distinctively old money accent and patrician wealth and manners, he was founding editor of The Paris Review and in 1967 a mainstay of literary salons in Paris and New York. “Author, critic, interviewer, party-giver … friend of everybody, gifted, personable, energetic, bright, with-it, rich, a legend in his own time,” The New York Times gushed.
Just the kind of person whom your average football fan might enjoy seeing knocked flat.
Plimpton joined a team he described as recovering from scandal. After ending the 1962 season with an 11-3 record and a Playoff Bowl victory for third place in the NFL, the NFL commissioner’s office fined six Lions for gambling on the championship game between Green Bay and New York. More significant on field, the commissioner suspended Lions great defensive tackle and future Pro Football Hall of Famer Alex Karras for one year. Without him, the Lions would end the 1963 season 5-8-1.
Plimpton wrote his way onto the team by promising to “just hang around on the periphery of things and not bother anyone, just try to participate enough to get the feel of things.”
Wilson agreed, and Plimpton arrived at training camp a few months later with his own football, purchased from an army-navy store in Times Square, and a “mild fiction” about having played quarterback at Harvard and for the nonexistent Newfoundland Newfs.
Plimpton’s attempt at deception might raise ethical questions; however, the joke is always on him. The coaching staff seemed to have thought it would be hilarious if anyone on the team actually took the gangly 36-year-old with the nasal accent as a professional football player. It seems unlikely that anyone did.
“I never had the temerity to pretend I was something that I wasn’t,” Plimpton wrote. “The team caught on quickly enough.”
At camp, Plimpton hung around the dining hall and sat in the back of team meetings. A master of small talk, he lets the reader eavesdrop on conversations with Hall of Famers Karras, Dick “Night Train” Lane and Joe Schmidt.
Plimpton takes us with him one night to a bar frequented by coaches, where we listen in rounds of liars’ poker with Wilson, Scooter McLean and Les Bingaman. We tag along as he chats with Karras at Lindell’s A.C., the bar the player owned in downtown Detroit at the time.
At training camp, Plimpton faced the teasing of players but earned respect by facing the brutality of sport and by persisting despite the inevitability of pain. He never played football in school, beyond a beery game between Harvard Crimson and Harvard Lampoon, and did not know the basics of playing quarterback.
Several days into camp, he was allowed to participate in a play where, as quarterback, he was supposed to quickly hand off the ball to another player.
“At ‘two’ the snap back came,” Plimpton wrote. “I began to turn without the proper grip on the ball, moving too nervously, and I fumbled the ball, gaping at it, mouth ajar, as it fell and bounced twice, once away from me, then back, and rocked back and forth gaily at my feet. I flung myself on it (…) and I heard the sharp strange whack of gear, the grunts, and then a quick sudden weight whooshed the air out of me.”
The same thing happened when Plimpton was allowed to take the field in an annual intra-squad game played in Pontiac. Over his first three plays he lost 20 yards by falling down, getting knocked over by his own teammates and being literally picked from the ground by a zealous defender. On the bus ride home, Plimpton admitted to Wilson that he didn’t like being hit.
The coach gently explained that “love of physical contact” was necessary to make it in pro football.
“When kids, out in a park, chose of sides for tackle rather than touch, the guys that want to be ends and go out for the passes, or even quarterback, because they think subconsciously they can get rid of the ball before being hit, those guys don’t end up as football players,” Wilson mused. “They become great tennis players, or skiers, or high jumpers. It doesn’t mean they lack courage or competitiveness.”
“But the guys who put up their hands to be tackles or guards, or fullbacks who run not for daylight but for trouble – those are the ones who will make it as football players.”
This quality of great football players – an irrational enthusiasm for bruising physical contact – is celebrated by Plimpton in the veteran Lions who take him into their orbit. He becomes friends with Karras and offensive lineman John Gordy, in particular, and shoots the breeze on topics ranging from the NFL commissioner to Adolf Hitler.
In a subsequent book, Plimpton goes with the pair to a madcap golf tournament and starts a ridiculous business venture, suggesting the on-field madness necessary to succeed in football bleeds into off-field life as well.
But it is not Plimpton’s way to delve into the psychology of his idols. Rather, he listens as they spin tales that show how reckless the grown men who run toward trouble really are.
Stephen Siff 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. George Plimpton’s 1966 nonfiction classic ‘Paper Lion’ revealed the bruising truths of Detroit Lions training camp – https://theconversation.com/george-plimptons-1966-nonfiction-classic-paper-lion-revealed-the-bruising-truths-of-detroit-lions-training-camp-267946
Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Marelize Isabel Schoeman, Professor, University of South Africa
In a recent statement, South Africa’s minister of correctional services said more than 18,000 parolees had reoffended in the past three years. They included 209 committing murder and 330 rape during 2024-25. This is one of the country’s most pressing justice problems, yet it remains poorly understood. It’s called recidivism: a situation where an individual who has already served a sentence commits another crime and is arrested, convicted or sentenced again.
Academic and media reports suggest that many released prisoners commit another crime and are sentenced. However, South Africa lacks a standard definition for recidivism or a consistent way to measure it. This means that no one knows the true rate. Researcher Marelize Schoeman explains why tracking recidivism matters.
Recidivism is not simply reoffending. The word comes from Latin. It means “to fall back”. It describes when an individual who has already served a sentence commits another crime and is arrested, convicted or sentenced again.
A high recidivism rate, therefore, reflects not only reoffending, but the criminal justice system’s failure to rehabilitate offenders and prevent further crime.
According to academic research, South Africa’s recidivism rate ranges from 55% to 95%. Media reports claim it to be as high as 80% to 97%.
These figures, however, can only be regarded as estimates. South Africa lacks a standard definition of recidivism. This has led to researchers and criminal justice institutions – including the Department of Correctional Services, the South African Police Service and the National Prosecuting Authority – using different definitions and measurement methods. This produces inconsistent data and inaccurate recidivism statistics.
The lack of a shared definition and common understanding has resulted in recidivism being used as a buzzword. This is done to create public sensation, score political points or claim programme success without any credible or generalisable evidence.
As a result, policymakers and service providers in the criminal justice sector don’t know whether:
policing, sentencing and rehabilitation programmes are effective
correctional centres are overcrowded due to repeat offenders
parole and reintegration efforts are successful.
This absence of reliable information hampers the criminal justice system’s ability to deliver effective prevention services, support parolees after release, reduce reoffending and build safer communities.
The first step is to have a uniform definition of recidivism across the criminal justice sector. Then the rate can be measured accurately. Without accurate data, resources can be wasted on crime prevention and rehabilitation programmes that do not work. Effective initiatives will remain unnoticed or underfunded. You can’t manage what you can’t measure.
The second step is to improve record-keeping and create a central digitised databank for sentenced offenders. This databank would hold key information, such as personal details, previous convictions, the nature of each offence, and other risk-related factors that could influence an offender’s rehabilitation prospects.
This information should be accessible to the prisons, police and prosecutors. The courts, parole boards and accredited rehabilitation service providers should also have access.
Currently, there is no central record system. The police service maintains all criminal record information. To obtain a person’s criminal record, a form and the individual’s fingerprints must be submitted. An official then checks the database for any previous convictions, offence details and sentencing information. This largely paper-based system is prone to delays, human error and inaccuracies.
Many offenders use aliases or do not have identity documents.
A uniform identification system, using digitally captured fingerprints or iris scans, would be a more effective way of identifying and keeping records of individuals with a criminal record.
Digitising this process has been planned since 1996, but hasn’t happened. Fragmented systems, weak accountability, outdated infrastructure, governance bottlenecks and late deliveries have delayed it.
Making these improvements would change how South Africa measures, understands and manages recidivism. A uniform definition would replace guesswork and political rhetoric with a clear, evidence-based standard.
Policymakers, researchers and practitioners could use a common language to make comparisons and coordinate strategies.
The focus could shift from viewing recidivism merely as individuals reoffending, to the criminal justice system’s effectiveness in breaking the cycle of crime.
A centralised, digitised offender database would reduce human error and improve data reliability, making it possible to identify and do what works.
Public trust in the criminal justice sector might improve, enhancing rehabilitation outcomes and building safer communities.
Countries like the United Kingdom, Norway, Finland and Sweden, Canada, New Zealand and Singapore have adopted a uniform definition of recidivism. They use it to measure the performance of their criminal justice systems.
The effectiveness of these steps is clear in Norway and Singapore. The two countries have some of the lowest recidivism rates in the world at 20% and 21%, respectively. The UK’s recidivism rates have declined from 31.6% in 2010 to 26.5% in 2023. In New Zealand, performance data is used to target high-risk groups and strengthen rehabilitation efforts.
These countries use biometric databases in law enforcement and correctional facilities. The databases help to identify offenders, track parolees and manage prisons. Authorities can identify ex-offenders who commit new crimes.
Recidivism statistics are also used as key performance indicators across the criminal justice system. They guide funding and programme development.
In South Africa, a review of the parole board system which began in September 2025 offers the Department of Correctional Services an opportunity to define what recidivism means.
This step could create the basis for developing a central record system for both incarcerated offenders and those under community corrections. The system could later be expanded across the entire criminal justice network.
Marelize Isabel Schoeman 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. Thousands of criminals reoffend in South Africa – better data would show where the justice system is failing – https://theconversation.com/thousands-of-criminals-reoffend-in-south-africa-better-data-would-show-where-the-justice-system-is-failing-268413
Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Federico Donelli, Associate Professor of International Relations, University of Trieste
The competition for global influence and control is shifting. One of the places where this dynamic is playing out is the Red Sea region, which encompasses Egypt, Eritrea, Djibouti, Sudan, Saudi Arabia and Yemen. Here, international rivalries, regional ambitions and local politics collide. Federico Donelli, who has studied these political dynamics and recently published Power Competition in the Red Sea, explains what’s driving the region’s geopolitical significance.
The region stretches from the Suez Canal to the Bab el-Mandeb Strait, covering approximately 438,000km². The Red Sea borders some of the world’s most volatile regions: the Horn of Africa, the Arabian Peninsula and the western shore of the Indo-Pacific area.
The Red Sea region
The Red Sea is rapidly becoming a highly contested zone, where traditional and emerging global powers are vying for influence and control. The decline of western geopolitical centrality, the rise of alternative powers and the increasing assertiveness of regional actors converge in the Red Sea.
This has created a complex and dynamic arena in which to test future global power hierarchies. The Red Sea region is challenging the liberal international order that emerged at the end of the cold war in 1989. That order is based on:
multilateralism – cooperation among multiple states
a free market – limited state intervention in the economy
liberal democracy – political pluralism and individual rights.
These tenets have been eroded by a combination of internal weaknesses and external challenges over the past 20 years.
While competition for global power between the United States and China tends to dominate the headlines, the true laboratories of the post-liberal world order are found in regions where international, regional and local dynamics collide.
The broader Red Sea region is one of them. Others are the Arctic, the South Indo-Pacific and the Balkans.
The region lacks a clear dominant power that is capable of imposing order. This makes it an open arena of competition among states with overlapping interests.
The Red Sea has great strategic value. It connects the Mediterranean and the Indo-Pacific, and is a maritime route for global trade and energy. It also borders several fragile states like Sudan, Eritrea and Yemen.
This combination – on the one hand, limited or contested authority that leaves the area exposed to external penetration, and on the other, its significant strategic value – has turned the region into a magnet for external involvement.
The United States and China both have military facilities in Djibouti. Russia has sought access to Port Sudan. Gulf powers, notably Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates and Qatar, have expanded their presence across the Horn of Africa. They’ve done this by investing in ports, infrastructure and military cooperation especially in Sudan, Somalia and Ethiopia.
Turkey, Iran and Israel have also established political, economic and security ties. This links the Red Sea to the eastern Mediterranean and the Persian Gulf.
However, external powers are not the only drivers of change in the region.
Local actors, from Ethiopia to Sudan, Eritrea, Egypt and Somalia, are exploiting global rivalries to advance their strategic objectives. They are courting competing external powers by trading military access for security guarantees, or seeking investment in strategic infrastructure. They are also using diplomatic alignment with the US, China, Gulf states or Turkey to strengthen domestic and regional positions.
These actions create a complex web of overlapping interests. These blur the line between regional and global politics. Governments and non-state actors now have multiple external patrons to choose from. They can play one power against another.
This “multi-alignment” gives regional players leverage. It also increases volatility and uncertainty. For example, rival factions in the ongoing Sudanese civil war have sought support from external players, ranging from Saudi Arabia to the UAE. This has transformed an internal conflict into a proxy battlefield.
In Somalia, local and clan authorities negotiate security and economic deals directly with foreign powers like Turkey and Gulf states, often bypassing weak local institutions.
Meanwhile, landlocked Ethiopia’s search for sea access has drawn it into new diplomatic and security entanglements with Somaliland, Somalia, Eritrea, Egypt and Gulf countries.
These examples reveal how the Red Sea arena has become a microcosm of the post-liberal order: fragmented, transactional and deeply interconnected.
The Red Sea region reflects the broader transformation of global politics.
Rather than producing a new balance, the decline of western influence has created a decentralised and competitive system.
In this environment, regional areas serve as testing grounds for new patterns of interaction between global and local powers, state and non-state actors, and formal alliances and informal partnerships.
While western-centric “universal” rules and institutions defined the liberal international order, the post-liberal order is characterised by selective engagement, bilateral bargains and flexible alignments.
The result is a world where order emerges from competition rather than consensus.
Competition among great powers now occurs less through international institutions and more through regional arenas. Military presence, infrastructure investment and political alliances now serve as instruments of influence.
The Red Sea region is a reminder to scholars and policymakers that the future of international politics will not be defined solely in Washington, Beijing, Brussels or Moscow. It will also be defined in places like Port Sudan, Aden and Djibouti, where the new global order is being shaped.
Regions have become true laboratories of international change. They are places where global competition interacts with local conflicts, and new models of governance and influence emerge.
Local actors, state and non-state, are no longer passive recipients of external interference. They are active participants in shaping their own security environments.
Federico Donelli is affiliated with the Italian Institute for International Political Studies (ISPI), the Nordic Africa Institute (NAI), and the Orion Policy Institute (OPI)
– ref. Global power shifts are playing out in the Red Sea region: why this is where the rules are changing – https://theconversation.com/global-power-shifts-are-playing-out-in-the-red-sea-region-why-this-is-where-the-rules-are-changing-268895
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Laura O’Flanagan, PhD Candidate, School of English, Dublin City University
The sequel to the hugely successful Wicked brings the story of Elphaba Thropp (Cynthia Erivo), also known as the Wicked Witch of the West, to its conclusion.
An alternative perspective on The Wizard of Oz (1939), Wicked began life in 1995 as a novel and in 2003 became a successful musical, before being adapted into a two-part film. This second film completes Elphaba’s story and firmly establishes her as one of modern cinema’s most compelling ecological heroines.
In the closing moments of the first film, Elphaba’s transformation to “wicked witch” is complete. She has refused to allow the Wizard (Jeff Goldblum) and his sidekick Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh) to control her magic, and so she is immediately cast out of Emerald City society and labelled as an enemy of the people. Elphaba’s magical powers are out of the regime’s control, and she instantly becomes a figure of fear and derision.
But to the audience Elphaba is a heroic, transgressive figure who resists pressure to conform. Her independence and individuality are celebrated through soaring musical numbers. Defying Gravity is about standing up for those who cannot and fighting back against injustice when no one else will. Elphaba is a heroine on the right side of history, while the cruel autocratic Wizard and Madame Morrible are cast as the film’s villains.
In Wicked: For Good Elphaba’s link with nature remains central throughout the story, expressed through her green colouring and her affinity with animals. She is portrayed as wild and uncontrollable in comparison to the rigid order of the Emerald City. The visual contrasts between Elphaba’s world and the Wizard’s regime are striking.
The Emerald City is garish, with unnatural colours, neatly manicured landscapes and steampunk-style technology, compared to the natural rugged cliffs scattered with wildflowers and open ocean surrounding Elphaba as she flies high above them on her broom.
Opposing the Wizard’s anti-animal policies places Elphaba in direct conflict with a regime that silences its most vulnerable. From this stance, she emerges as an ecofeminist figure of resistance.
A term first coined in 1974 by Francoise D’Eaubonne in her book Feminism or Death, ecofeminism argues that the oppression of women and the exploitation of nature spring from the same systems of power and domination.
Marginalised and feared for the raw power of her magic, Elphaba embodies the ecofeminist cause against the dual oppression of women and the natural world. In defending the animals of Oz and resisting forces seeking to control her, Elphaba is an icon of ecofeminist resistance.
This reading is further supported by the work of American philosopher and historian Carolyn Merchant, who argues that modern political power structures rely on viewing nature as mechanistic and controllable. The Wizard’s desire to silence and control the animals illustrates this worldview, turning living beings into manageable pieces of his ordered Oz.
Elphaba, by contrast, embraces a holistic, relational understanding of nature which is rooted in respect rather than control. By placing Elphaba in opposition to the Wizard, Wicked: For Good casts her as an ecological and political disruptor, reclaiming agency for herself and for the natural world she strives to protect.
The film presents relationships between women as catalysts for resistance and change. Ecofeminism places great importance on relationships and care, and Elphaba’s bond with “good witch” Glinda (Ariana Grande) aligns strongly with this emphasis. Although their relationship is briefly complicated by a love triangle, the film never positions them as rivals.
Instead, it foregrounds their evolving connection as a source of strength and moral clarity. Their friendship is defined by mutual care, which contrasts starkly with the Wizard’s desire for domination.
By the end of Wicked: For Good, Elphaba becomes more than the misunderstood witch of Oz. She is an ecological heroine who reminds the audience that care can be a powerful form of resistance. She invites us to look again at how a figure can come to be feared, and how easily power can shape the stories we inherit.
Her strength grows from compassion and from the courage to live truthfully. Far from wicked, Elphaba is a heroine and a role model for the ages, with a deep and intuitive understanding of the transformative power of care and friendship.
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This article features references to books that have been included for editorial reasons, and may contain links to bookshop.org – f you click on one of the links and go on to buy something, The Conversation UK may earn a commission.
Laura O’Flanagan 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. Elphaba the ecofeminist: Wicked For Good casts its heroine as an icon of resistance – https://theconversation.com/elphaba-the-ecofeminist-wicked-for-good-casts-its-heroine-as-an-icon-of-resistance-270474
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Edward White, PhD Candidate in Psychology, Kingston University
For the final season of Stranger Things, millions of fans will take one last plunge into the Upside Down to watch an epic showdown against Vecna as he threatens the town of Hawkins – and the entire world. But what sparks our collective fascination with this dark, horror-filled universe?
The answer lies in psychological and philosophical principles that shed light on why we’re drawn not only to entertainment but also to information. Understanding why millions willingly immerse themselves in the terrifying world of the Upside Down reveals deep truths about human nature and our relationship with fear.
From ghost stories to true crime documentaries, our obsession with the macabre stems from a bias towards negativity: the tendency to react more strongly to negative information than to positive or neutral content.
This negativity bias evolved as an alert system – our fight-or-flight response to threats. Today, since we no longer face sabre-toothed tigers, this alertness has transformed into a thrill-seeking drive to pursue frightening content for its intense arousal.
This explains why viewers are simultaneously scared and captivated by scenes like the traumatic flashbacks of Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) or the Demogorgon’s savage attacks. Our brains are wired to respond to danger, even in make-believe scenarios.
Research into horror psychology shows that sensation-seekers actively chase negative stimuli to boost their sense of excitement. Cross-cultural studies on curiosity about morbid topics, meanwhile, reveal that this attraction appears across diverse human cultures and is rooted in stable psychological mechanisms rather than culture specific ones.
Stranger Things masterfully taps into all four dimensions of our morbid curiosity: exploring villains (like Vecna and Dr Brenner), witnessing violence (from the Upside Down creatures), experiencing body horror (through the Mind Flayer’s infections) and confronting paranormal threats (those haunting Hawkins). This comprehensive engagement explains the show’s massive global appeal.
Neuroimaging research employing brain-scanning tools like functional magnetic resonance imaging or fMRI, which tracks blood flow and neural activity in real time, indicates that watching disturbing content activates the brain’s reward system.
This neurological response explains why Stranger Things feels simultaneously terrifying and deeply satisfying – our reward systems are reinforcing the psychological benefits of confronting fear through fictional proxies, allowing us to practice emotional resilience and threat assessment without real-world consequences.
One popular aspect of Stranger Things is its setting: 1980s America. This choice adds a deeper psychological resonance to what French philosopher Jacques Derriera coined “hauntology”.
Hauntology suggests that we are all “haunted” by two ghosts. The first is a return to the social past, that idea that things were better before. The second ghost represents a yearning for a future that promises redemption and a belief that meaningful change remains possible. These two ghosts create a condition that sits between presence and absence, where lingering traces of unresolved pasts continue to haunt and shape the present.
The 1980s setting of Stranger Things serves as a deliberate return to a romanticised era, where unresolved social, economic and cultural issues from the past “haunt” the present.
The town of Hawkins, where the show is set, is presented as an idealised town of traditional values and economic stability. But underneath this facade, the series systematically dismantles the myth of 1980s American innocence by revealing the psychological trauma embedded withing the perfect suburban life.
For instance, the Upside Down (a dark and decaying alternate dimension that mirrors our own) functions as a psychological manifestation of what psychologist Carl Jung termed the “shadow” – those repressed aspects of individual and collective consciousness that society refuses to acknowledge.
Hawkins Laboratory, operating in secret beneath the town’s surface, represents the dark underbelly of American scientific progress during the cold war era, where children become subjects in the pursuit of science. Eleven’s systematic abuse at the hands of Dr Brenner (Matthew Modine) exposes how institutional authority can perpetrate intergenerational trauma while maintaining facades of benevolent care.
Ultimately, Stranger Things is so addictive because it taps into multiple psychological layers at once. The show’s clever use of our natural negativity bias and curiosity about the morbid keeps viewers hooked emotionally from the start, while its hauntological framework adds deeper resonance by encouraging us to face the hidden traumas beneath our favourite cultural stories.
This blend – where our brain’s reward signals meet genuine reflection – helps explain why so many of us keep returning to Hawkins’ mysterious world. It becomes almost a shared form of therapy, letting us work through fears about betrayal by institutions, childhood wounds, and social breakdowns through supernatural stories that feel safe.
In this way, Stranger Things shows that our love for fictional horror has a real purpose: it allows us to rehearse resilience while also critiquing the very systems that create our everyday anxieties. The series’ enduring popularity suggests that viewers instinctively grasp this dual function, seeking not just entertainment but also meaning in a world where the boundary between monsters and societal horrors has become surprisingly blurry.
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Edward White is affiliated with Kingston University.
– ref. Stranger Things has kept our attention through clever use of ‘hauntology’ – a psychologist explains – https://theconversation.com/stranger-things-has-kept-our-attention-through-clever-use-of-hauntology-a-psychologist-explains-269641
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Glenn Fosbraey, Associate Dean of Humanities and Social Sciences, University of Winchester
A lot can happen in three decades. Since 1995, we’ve seen nine different UK prime ministers, the birth and death of the Minidisc, iPod and DVD. Manchester City sank to the third tier of English football then rose to become champions of Europe. One thing that hasn’t wavered, though, is the popularity of The Beatles.
On November 21, The Beatles’ Anthology 4 was released to an eager worldwide audience, 30 years after the first instalment in the series, Anthology 1, and 56 years after the band split.
Released in November 1995, Anthology 1 was initially met with bemusement by reviewers. Some dismissed its contents as “scrappy old demo tapes, TV recordings, and studio outtakes” which were “of scant interest to anyone but obsessives”. Perhaps there were simply a lot more “obsessives” than critics thought – the public bought the album in droves. Anthology 1 topped charts all over the world with the highest first week of sales ever recorded.
Anthologies 2 and 3 followed in March 1996 and October 1966, respectively. Although they didn’t quite reach the commercial heights of Anthology 1, they still sold in their millions. Their releases also coincided with the peak of Britpop, which came not so much to bury the Fab Four’s legacy as to raise it to new heights with figureheads Noel and Liam Gallagher of Oasis regularly espousing their idolatry for the band.
The Anthology trilogy may not have been the first outtakes and demos albums (that honour goes to The Who and their 1974 Odds and Sods collection), but they did break new ground in showing how a retrospective of band’s career can move beyond a compilation of previously released tracks.
The Anthologies told the story of The Beatles, tracking their development from amateur cover-artists to bona fide musical pioneers. It showed listeners how their favourite songs were constructed, morphing from, in the case of Strawberry Fields Forever, a home recording, through a series of experimental studio versions, to the finished product.
Most importantly, though, the albums offered intimate access to private spaces. It felt as if we were in Studio 2 with the band, listening to them chatting, playing around, trying things out, then, finally, creating some of the greatest songs ever committed to tape.
As with all the previous instalments, Anthology 4 shows how the personalities of John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr were so key to their appeal. Their famous sense of humour and joie de vivre can be heard throughout. On Baby You’re A Rich Man (Takes 11 and 12), following Lennon’s request for bottles of Coke from roadie Mal Evans, McCartney jokingly asks for some cannabis resin before wryly remarking “that’s recorded evidence for the high court tomorrow”.
Harrison laughs at his inability to “do a Smokey [Robinson]” on While My Guitar Gently Weeps (Third Version – Take 27); and Lennon seems to be having the time of his life singing All You Need is Love (Rehearsal for BBC Broadcast). Their humility shines through, too.
On Julia (Two Rehearsals), for example, we hear Lennon speaking with producer George Martin about his struggles with playing and singing it. Here’s the most celebrated artists of all time unsure whether he’s good enough. The recording took place only a matter of months after the release of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, an album considered to have changed not only music, but pop culture at large. And when Starr bashfully asks whether anyone “has heard the Octopus one” before giving Octopus’s Garden (Rehearsal) an airing, we genuinely feel his anxiety.
Another extraordinary element of this collection (and the previous three) is the Beatles’ shift from just seeming like a group of lads larking about to a group of musicians creating masterpieces, then back again. It happens so quickly and so naturally that it’s almost disorientating.
More than any of the other Anthologies, the significance of Martin’s contribution is printed in bold, then underlined, twice, in red ink. If anyone ever deserved the accolade of “fifth Beatle” it was he, with his skills as an arranger and composer gloriously evident on I am The Walrus (Take 19 – Strings, Brass, Clarinet Overdub), Strawberry Fields Forever (Take 26), and Something (Take 39 – Strings Only Instrumental).
Sadly, it looks like the well of treasures may have finally run dry. The collection includes several tracks Beatles devotees will have already hoovered up via Abbey Road Super Deluxe, The Beatles (White Album) 50th Anniversary Edition, and Let It Be Super Deluxe. But, when it comes to The Beatles, enough is never enough. As well as the album, there is also an extended version of the 1990s docuseries Anthology airing on Disney+ on November 26th, and a 25th Anniversary edition of the book (also titled Anthology).
Anthology 4 already has something in common with its mid-90s ancestors courtesy of some less-than-charitable press, but whether it will mirror their success remains to be seen. What is for sure, though, is that The Beatles’ commercial juggernaut, well into its seventh decade now, shows no signs of slowing down.
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Glenn Fosbraey 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. Anthology 4 shows there’s still more to discover about The Beatles – https://theconversation.com/anthology-4-shows-theres-still-more-to-discover-about-the-beatles-270486
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Chantal Gautier, Senior Lecturer in Psychology and Sex and Relationship Therapist, University of Westminster
If you’re looking for a film that’s daring and emotionally layered, then Harry Lighton’s debut feature Pillion absolutely hits the mark. The film follows Colin (Harry Melling), a shy suburban guy stuck in routine and Ray (Alexander Skarsgård), a magnetic unreadable biker whose presence exudes both aloofness and intrigue.
What starts as a rough transactional alleyway hook-up, quickly shifts into a 24/7 BDSM (best understood when read in three pairs: bondage and discipline, domination and submission, sadism and masochism) dynamic built on power, ritual and control.
Within the broader framework of BDSM, Pillion situates Colin and Ray’s dynamic inside the concept of consensual total power exchange: a structured voluntarily arrangement in which a submissive (or “slave”) offers continuous obedience and service to a dominant (or “master”) extending beyond “scenes” and into daily life.
At its core Pillion explores power, eroticism, masculinity and identity. Lighton doesn’t shy away from the erotic elements. In fact, Lighton uses them as a springboard for deeper questions of self-definition. As we witness moments of submission and humiliation rituals (shot with a mix of tension and tenderness), we follow Colin’s emotional journey. From confusion to curiosity and eventually, a sense of charged enjoyment he didn’t expect, Colin finds himself surrendering in ways he never imagined.
One of the film’s most memorable sequences places submissives lined up face-down with bare backsides on picnic tables in the middle of a forest. Colin’s despair is unmistakable. It’s in these moments the film’s title snaps into sharp focus, clarifying who leads, who submits, and who rides pillion (the “bottom” in queer discourse).
Lighton solidifies dominant-submissive slave devotion with an unexpected sense of groundedness. The involvement of real-life members of the Gay Bikers Motorcycle Club amplifies the scene’s credibility, giving it a charged, lived-in authenticity.
But what symbolic or emotional function does control serve for Ray (if there is one, it might simply be this is what Ray is into – what we call their erotic template).
The film offers two compelling possibilities. First, the symbolic elements of BDSM (collars, rituals and rules) create a relationship framework that reaffirms the dominant-submissive bond of unity. For Ray, this connection doesn’t stem from emotional openness but from the stability he maintains through structure and control.
BDSM becomes a space where instructing Colin allows Ray to assert his identity through a style of masculinity that values control. Ray has deliberately curbed his emotional expression. At his core, he is someone who does not allow himself to need. So, for Ray, the dominant-submissive slave dynamic, becomes a mechanism for keeping vulnerability at bay.
Second, research on attachment styles suggest dominance within BDSM can offer the kind of predictability and structure that people with avoidant attachment styles often experience as safe. People like Ray who are uneasy with emotional closeness or unpredictability, may find reassurance in the clearly defined expectations of these dynamics. With emotional disclosure minimised and expectations clarified, the dominant role creates conditions that shield Ray from the forms of vulnerability he finds threatening.
The film’s exploration of masculinity deepens, revealing how societal and cultural norms shape what is considered “manly”. Ray embodies commonly held masculine ideals, including stoicism, self-control, confidence and a sculpted physique. Colin’s more submissive, compliant energy challenges these expectations, revealing masculinity as culturally shaped rather than fixed.
In his “slave” role, Colin embodies both conventional and unconventional masculinity. His surrender emerges as strength – endurance, discipline, sexual stamina. Because submissive roles demand patience, obedience and the resilience to meet discomfort (consensually), they cultivate qualities that expand, rather than diminish, the boundaries of masculinity, providing a more fluid and expansive understanding of masculine identity.
For Colin, the dominant-submissive slave journey becomes a path of self-discovery, allowing him to recognise what he wants, what he excels at – his “aptitude for devotion” – and ultimately who he is. His evolving masculine identity takes shape as he embraces the newly uncovered self, not with shame, but with authenticity.
The film makes clear that BDSM dynamics, despite popular assumptions, are not bound by gender. And while Pillion concentrates on a gay male relationship, the emotional terrain it explores – power, vulnerability and identity – resonate across genders.
Eventually, in pursuit of greater happiness Colin begins to question the arrangement, perhaps prompted by those rare fleeting moments when Ray lets his guard down. Summoning newfound courage, he asks for a “day off” from their daily dominant-submissive dynamic. After a chaotic and rebellious detour, Ray agrees to the new terms. But a question lingers at the film’s emotional core: can Ray allow himself to experience emotional closeness beyond his role as “master”?
Pillion is an emotionally intelligent multi-layered film, rich with moments of humour, wonder and rawness. Boldly provocative it immerses viewers in a world of BDSM, while challenging conventional assumptions about desire, relationships and identity. Lighton delivers a film anchored by exceptional performances from both its main cast and its supporting ensemble, crafting a story that sticks with you long after the credits rolls.
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Chantal Gautier 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. Pillion: what a sex therapist expert thinks of this domination-themed queer rom-com – https://theconversation.com/pillion-what-a-sex-therapist-expert-thinks-of-this-domination-themed-queer-rom-com-270224
