My daily surveys suggest British earwigs are declining drastically

Source: The Conversation – UK – By John Murray, Senior Research Fellow, School of Environment, Earth and Ecosystem Sciences, The Open University

The common earwig. Henri Koskinen/Shutterstock

Every morning for the past 32 years, I have been counting earwigs. Here at Marshalls Heath, a small nature reserve in Hertfordshire, the only site where these nocturnal insects have been so systematically monitored for so long, the number of common earwigs has declined dramatically.

Using a light trap (equipment that entices nocturnal flying insects towards an artificial light and into a box until they can be counted and released in the morning), I found 282 earwigs in a single night in 1996. In 2024, only 31 adults were trapped in that entire year.

My new study, published in the Entomologist’s Record and Journal of Variation, indicates how this catastrophic decline appears to be due to very late frosts, with much higher numbers in the 1990s linked to runs of sunny, dry summers. I have had other anecdotal reports of declines in numbers in other parts of the UK, so this could be a more widespread phenomenon.

Most gardeners regard earwigs as a pest because they eat some leaves and flower petals. But their favourite foods also include woolly apple aphids, codling moth caterpillars and pear psyllid – these are all tiny insects that feed on apples and pears. In commercial orchards, earwigs are introduced to eat other insects and control apple and pear pests.

Like many insects, earwigs break down waste and decompose dead matter – this improves soil structure and helps create a healthy landscape. They also provide a source of food for some birds and small mammals.

A frosty decline

My research shows that the cause of the decline at Marshalls Heath is due to a number of factors. Years of exceptionally high numbers of earwigs were those when summer sunshine had been greatest and rainfall lowest in the two previous years, and when autumns had been cool and the springs dry – weather in the current year had no effect on numbers. But this does not explain their sudden drop in numbers in 2020.

Man crouched next to light trap with white hat holding red notebook
John Barrett Murray has used a light trap to catch, count and then release earwigs.
John Barrett Murray, CC BY-NC-ND

A key part of the puzzle is how adult female earwigs behave towards their young. Unusually for an insect, studies dating back to 1941 have shown that the mother defends and incubates her eggs and cares for her newly-hatched young in an underground nest.

As the young earwigs (called nymphs) grow, they may accompany their mother when she forages at night on the ground outside the nest, always returning back to the underground nest during daylight hours. But as soon as the nymphs moult for the first time, when they are about 5mm long, the mother abandons them to fend for themselves.




Read more:
Earwigs are the hero single mothers of the insect world – and good for your garden too


This is a critical stage in the young insect’s life, and my new study shows that the earlier the nymphs reach this free-roaming phase, the higher are their chances of survival. A delay of one month can be fatal, since they are vulnerable to disease, starvation and predation by birds and small mammals.

To reach this stage earlier, it appears that the fewer the late spring frosts, the better. In 2011, when nymphs moulted early, there were only eight ground frosts in April and May. In 2021, when adult numbers crashed, there were 32 late frosts, and according to the Met Office, it was the frostiest April since records began.

So what next? Trends over the past four years at Marshalls Heath show adult numbers of between 31 and 47 earwigs per year. In 2025 so far, I have only caught seven adults and nine nymphs.

So there is no sign of any revival in these numbers. However, the hot dry summer this year is just what might favour the survival of these insects in the years to come. If we have a cool autumn and a dry spring, followed by similar conditions next year, I’m hoping to record larger numbers in 2027.


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The Conversation

John Murray volunteers as warden for the Marshalls Heath nature reserve.

ref. My daily surveys suggest British earwigs are declining drastically – https://theconversation.com/my-daily-surveys-suggest-british-earwigs-are-declining-drastically-262558

Politicians are using social media to campaign – new research tells us what works and what doesn’t

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Emma Connolly, Research Fellow, Digital Speech Lab, UCL

Shutterstock.

By the time the next US election takes place in 2028, millennial and gen Z voters – who already watch over six hours of media content a daywill make up the majority of the electorate. As gen alpha (people born between 2010 and 2024) also comes of voting age, social media platforms such as TikTok and Instagram or their future equivalents can play a role in political success – if political actors can capitalise on it.

On these platforms, politics mixes with entertainment, creating fertile ground for memes and viral content that shape public opinion in real time – particularly in the US. But going viral isn’t simple, as my new research shows, and political actors have so far have struggled to make the most of it. If content doesn’t feel authentic, isn’t accompanied by clear messaging, or adapted to different platforms, then it’s unlikely to be successful.

Also, viral content spreads quickly, sometimes unpredictably, and across platforms that all behave differently. The algorithms behind viral spread are specific to each platform – and not transparent. This makes the impact of viral activity difficult to measure and hard to track. This presents a challenge to politicians and campaigns looking to capitalise on it.

My recently published research investigated this. I mapped and visualised the “Kamala IS brat” phenomenon as it moved across X, Instagram and TikTok in the run-up to the 2024 US election. The aim of the research was to investigate the anatomy of a viral movement: what made it spread on each platform, how long did it last, and who was driving it.

I found that viral political content that emerges on X spreads by a mix of strategic communication, and letting the audience do the rest. It often spreads to TikTok through catchy adaptations, and moves slightly slower on Instagram, but “explainer” content with images, for instance – often from a mix of everyday users and mainstream media outlets keeps – it visible.

Viral content moves between platforms, adapting to the environment of each as it is transformed into audio and visual forms. My research found that using audio was particularly powerful: turning quotes into soundbites and superimposing dance trends onto political backgrounds made for hugely shareable combinations, and the more surreal, the better.

Most people think that going viral is short-lived, but this study – and other research – has found that digital content has a “long tail”: it pops up, resurges and re-emerges, days, weeks, or even months later, offering new chances to reconnect with audiences.

This was particularly apparent on X, where content was re-used and re-contextualised in satirical and humorous ways. This wasn’t always positive. In the data I analysed, Republican supporters used the phrase “Kamala IS brat” to try and switch the narrative into something negative but it’s likely that this increased visibility as views are driven by influential public figures and shared by meme accounts.

Kamala Harris used social media in her 2024 campaign, but she didn’t win.

For politicians, this potential for re-emergence means that successful social media engagement is not just about strategic planning, it’s more about understanding how audiences remix and repost content in ways that can be hard to predict.

It’s not about rigidly tailoring content to each platform either, but about adapting to their styles. Effective digital strategists work with, not for, their audience, and make the most of moments that can’t always be planned in advance. Canada’s prime ministerial candidate, Mark Carney, for instance, embraced the hashtag #elbowsupCanada during his successful 2025 campaign.

The research also found that posting the right type of content is important – and short-form content works best. Social media platforms use a mix of recommender and social algorithms, that are politically intuitive. A high number of followers can still help to increase visibility, but getting the content right can extend viral reach, regardless of how many followers an account has.

Donald Trump regularly posts his decisions on Truth Social social media network.

TikTok’s algorithm in particular is set up for exploration, and Instagram’s Threads already pushes political content to users, not necessarily from accounts that they follow. Research suggests that users of any platform expect to see political content, whether they’re looking for it or not.

Given the potential for viral activity to reach a huge – and increasingly politically significant – audience, the challenge remains for political actors to turn social media engagement into electoral gain.

Many are trying, with varying levels of success. Harris’s digital-first strategy took an innovative approach – giving creative licence to a rapid response team of 25-year-olds. The digital campaign itself was considered a blueprint for PR success, but it ultimately failed to translate into votes. This was probably because it wasn’t accompanied by clear, concise messaging.

Other political hopefuls, such as Arizonan activist Deja Foxx and Democratic mayoral candidate Zohran Mamdani, are also capitalising on social media engagement. While Foxx recently lost in her bid to become the first gen Z woman to be elected to Congress, her approach, based on catchy content and influencer tactics, turned a long-shot candidacy into a very competitive campaign.

Mamdani has had more tangible success. His effective use of social media visuals, and multilingual engagement expanded his reach, and were credited with helping him win New York City’s Democratic mayoral primary in June.

So, if politicians can get it right, there is growing evidence that capitalising on going viral can influence political success.

Social media won’t win an election on its own, but looking ahead to 2028, it’s increasingly likely to be a part of a winning campaign. Young voters are far from a monolith, but what they do have in common is where they spend their time: on social media. TikTok remains the fastest-growing platform among this age group. Far from just providing entertainment, many use it to get their news, and engage in politics. Campaigns can’t afford to ignore it.

The Conversation

Emma Connolly 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. Politicians are using social media to campaign – new research tells us what works and what doesn’t – https://theconversation.com/politicians-are-using-social-media-to-campaign-new-research-tells-us-what-works-and-what-doesnt-261509

Mexico’s tourism protests are a symptom of longstanding inequality in Latin American cities

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Nicolas Forsans, Professor of Management and Co-director of the Centre for Latin American & Caribbean Studies, University of Essex

A protester holds a sign reading ‘it’s not community if you displace us’ during a demonstration against gentrification in Mexico City. Octavio Hoyos / Shutterstock

When thousands of residents took to the streets of Mexico City in July chanting “Gringo, go home”, news headlines were quick to blame digital nomads and expats. The story seemed simple: tech-savvy remote workers move in, rents go up and locals get priced out.

But that’s not the whole tale. While digital migration has undeniably accelerated housing pressures in Latin America, the forces driving resentment towards gentrification there run far deeper. The recent protests are symptoms of several structural issues that have long shaped inequality in the region’s cities.

Long before digital nomad visas became policy buzzwords after the pandemic, Latin America’s cities were changing at speed. In 1950, around 40% of the region’s population was urban. This figure had increased to 70% by 1990.

Nowadays, about 80% of people live in bustling cities, making Latin America the world’s most urbanised region. And by 2050, cities are expected to host 90% of the region’s population. Such rapid urbanisation has proved a magnet for international investors, tourists and, more recently, digital nomads.

In Latin America, gentrification has often involved large-scale redevelopment and high-rise construction, driven by state policies that prioritise economic growth and city branding over social inclusion.

Governments have re-branded entire working-class or marginalised areas as “innovation corridors” or “creative districts”, as in the La Boca neighbourhood of Buenos Aires, to attract investment. Neighbourhood re-branding has fostered resentment among locals and, in Buenos Aires, policies supporting self-managed social housing.

The introduction of integrated urban public transport systems has, while improving city access for marginalised communities, also triggered property speculation in once-isolated communities. In the Colombian city of Medellín, for instance, this has driven up prices and displaced long-time residents from hillside neighbourhoods like Comuna 13.

This is not an isolated case. A study from 2024 found that transport projects in Latin America are frequently leveraged by governments to attract private investment, effectively using mobility as a tool for urban restructuring rather than social equity.

A cable car above the city of Medellín.
The expansion of the public transportation system in Medellín has been associated with increased property values in once-isolated communities.
Alexander Canas Arango / Shutterstock

Researchers call the urban development seen in Latin America “touristification”. This is a form of extractivism where – just like raw materials are removed from the earth for export – urban heritage, culture and everyday life are “mined” for economic value.

In the Barranco district of the Peruvian capital, Lima, heritage is marketed for tourism. But while the district’s bohemian and artistic identity has become a distinctive tourism asset, Barranco now faces challenges that threaten its sociocultural diversity and authenticity. The price of land there increased by 22% between 2014 and 2017, compared with just 4% in San Insidro, which is considered the wealthiest district of metropolitan Lima.

In Chile, the designation of Valparaíso’s historic quarter as a Unesco world heritage site in 2003 led to an increase in heritage-led tourism. Persistent outward migration of long-term residents from the city centre has led to a severe decline in the residential function of the world heritage area – and with it, the loss of vibrant local life.

Symptoms of deeper issues

Protests against high rents and displacement in Latin America are often framed as direct responses to gentrification. However, academic research and policy analysis suggest these protests are symptoms of much deeper structural issues.

Latin America is one of the most unequal regions in the world. Limited access to things like quality education and formal employment means many urban residents are already vulnerable before gentrification pressures begin. More than half of the current generation’s inequality in Latin America is inherited from the past, with estimates ranging from 44% to 63% depending on the country and measure used.

Cities in the region also have long histories of spatial and social segregation, with marginalised groups concentrated in under-resourced neighbourhoods. Gentrification often exacerbates this by pushing these populations further to the periphery.

Cartagena, a port city with roots in colonial-era divisions, possibly exemplifies the greatest urban segregation in Colombia’s history. Spaniards and other Europeans lived in the fortified centre, while enslaved people were confined to poorer neighbourhoods like Getsemaní outside the walls.

Recently, urban planning decisions have been taken there that favour certain groups over others. Only the colonial legacy linked to Europeans has been protected. Getsemaní, once populated with slaves’ homes and workshops, is now home to luxury hotels, restaurants and housing.

The colourful streets of the Getsemaní neighbourhood of Cartagena.
The colourful streets of Getsemaní, a neighbourhood in Cartagena, Colombia.
Nowaczyk / Shutterstock

Finally, a large share of Latin America’s urban workforce is employed informally. Informality, where workers lack job security and social protections, is not just an unfortunate effect of economic development. It is an integral part of how global capitalism and urbanisation unfold in Latin America.

It reflects the failure of state and market systems to meet the needs of the majority. Rising rents and living costs driven by gentrification disproportionately hurt those who have few resources to absorb such shocks.

Protesters in Mexico aren’t just angry at an influx of remote workers sipping flat whites. They are responding to decades of urban inequality, neglect and exclusion. What is emerging is a continent-wide battle over who gets to live in, profit from and shape the future of Latin American cities.

The region’s urban future doesn’t have to mirror its past. But getting there means moving beyond simplistic narratives about foreign renters or digital workers, and tackling the structural issues that have long shaped inequality in Latin America’s cities.

The Conversation

Nicolas Forsans 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. Mexico’s tourism protests are a symptom of longstanding inequality in Latin American cities – https://theconversation.com/mexicos-tourism-protests-are-a-symptom-of-longstanding-inequality-in-latin-american-cities-261634

Beyond recognition: the challenges of creating a new Palestinian state are so formidable, is it even possible?

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Martin Kear, Sessional Lecturer, Department of Government and International Relations, University of Sydney

Australia will recognise a Palestinian state at the UN General Assembly meeting in September, joining the United Kingdom, Canada and France in taking the historic step.

Recognising a Palestinian state is at one level symbolic – it signals a growing global consensus behind the rights of Palestinians to have their own state. In the short term, it won’t impact the situation on the ground in Gaza.

Practically speaking, the formation of a future Palestinian state consisting of the West Bank, Gaza Strip and East Jerusalem is far more difficult to achieve.

The Israeli government has ruled out a two-state solution and reacted with fury to the moves by the four G20 members to recognise Palestine. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu called the decision “shameful”.

So, what are the political issues that need to be resolved before a Palestinian state becomes a reality? And what is the point of recognition if it doesn’t overcome these seemingly intractable obstacles?

Settlements have exploded

The first problem is what to do about Israeli settlements in the West Bank and East Jerusalem, which the International Court of Justice has declared are illegal.

Since 1967, Israel has constructed these settlements with two goals in mind: prevent any future division of Jerusalem, and expropriate sufficient territory to make a Palestinian state impossible. There are now more than 500,000 settlers in the West Bank and 233,000 in East Jerusalem.

Palestinians see East Jerusalem as an indispensable part of any future state. They will never countenance a state without it as their capital.

In May, the Israeli government announced it would also build 22 new settlements in the West Bank and East Jerusalem – the largest settler expansion in decades. Defence Minister Israel Katz described this as a “strategic move that prevents the establishment of a Palestinian state that would endanger Israel”.

The Israeli government has also moved closer to fully annexing the West Bank in recent months.

Geographical complexities of a future state

Second is the issue of a future border between a Palestinian state and Israel.

The demarcations of the Gaza Strip, West Bank and East Jerusalem are not internationally recognised borders. Rather, they are the ceasefire lines, known as the “Green Line”, from the 1948 War that saw the creation of Israel.

However, in the Six-Day War of 1967, Israel captured and occupied the West Bank, Gaza, East Jerusalem, Egypt’s Sinai Peninsula (since returned), and Syria’s Golan Heights. And successive Israeli governments have used the construction of settlements in the occupied territories, alongside expansive infrastructure, to create new “facts on the ground”.

Israel solidifies its hold on this territory by designating it as “state land”, meaning it no longer recognises Palestinian ownership, further inhibiting the possibility of a future Palestinian state.

For example, according to research by Israeli professor Neve Gordon, Jerusalem’s municipal boundaries covered approximately seven square kilometres before 1967. Since then, Israeli settlement construction has expanded its eastern boundaries, so it now now covers about 70 square km.

Israel also uses its Separation Wall or Barrier, which runs for around 700km through the West Bank and East Jerusalem, to further expropriate Palestinian territory.

According to a 2013 book by researchers Ariella Azoulay and Adi Ophir, the wall is part of the Israeli government’s policy of cleansing Israeli space of any Palestinian presence. It breaks up contiguous Palestinian urban and rural spaces, cutting off some 150 Palestinian communities from their farmland and pastureland.

The barrier is reinforced by other methods of separation, such as checkpoints, earth mounds, roadblocks, trenches, road gates and barriers, and earth walls.




Read more:
Explainer: what is the two-state solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict?


Then there is the complex geography of Israel’s occupation in the West Bank.

Under the Oslo Accords of the 1990s, the West Bank was divided into three areas, labelled Area A, Area B and Area C.

In Area A, which consists of 18% of the West Bank, the Palestinian Authority exercises majority control. Area B is under joint Israeli-Palestinian authority. Area C, which comprises 60% of the West Bank, is under full Israeli control.

Administrative control was meant to be gradually transferred to Palestinian control under the Oslo Accords, but this never happened.

Areas A and B are today separated into many small divisions that remain isolated from one another due to Israeli control over Area C. This deliberate ghettoisation creates separate rules, laws and norms in the West Bank that are intended to prevent freedom of movement between the Palestinian zones and inhibit the realisation of a Palestinian state.

Who will govern a future state?

Finally, there are the conditions that Western governments have placed on recognition of a Palestinian state, which rob Palestinians of their agency.

Chief among these is the stipulation that Hamas will not play a role in the governance of a future Palestinian state. This has been backed by the Arab League, which has also called for Hamas to disarm and relinquish power in Gaza.

Fatah and Hamas are currently the only two movements in Palestinian politics capable of forming a government. In a May poll, 32% of respondents in both Gaza and the West Bank said they preferred Hamas, compared with 21% support for Fatah. One-third did not support either or had no opinion.

Mahmoud Abbas, leader of the Palestinian Authority, is deeply unpopular, with 80% of Palestinians wanting him to resign.




Read more:
The politics of recognition: Australia and the question of Palestinian statehood


A “reformed” Palestinian Authority is the West’s preferred option to govern a future Palestinian state. But if Western powers deny Palestinians the opportunity to elect a government of their choosing by dictating who can participate, the new government would likely be seen as illegitimate.

This risks repeating the mistakes of Western attempts to install governments of their choosing in Iraq and Afghanistan. It also plays into the hands of Hamas hardliners, who mistrust democracy and see it as a tool to impose puppet governments in Palestine, as well as Israel’s narrative that Palestinians are incapable of governing themselves.

Redressing these issues and the myriad others will take time, money and considerable effort. The question is, how much political capital are the leaders of France, the UK, Canada and Australia (and others) willing to expend to ensure their recognition of Palestine results in an actual state?

What if Israel refuses to dismantle its settlements and Separation Wall, and moves ahead with annexing the West Bank? What are these Western leaders willing or able to do? In the past, they have been unwilling to do more than issue strongly worded statements in the face of Israeli refusals to advance the two-state solution.

Given these doubts around the political will and actual power of Western states to compel Israel to agree to the two-state solution, it begs the question: what and who is recognition for?

The Conversation

Martin Kear 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. Beyond recognition: the challenges of creating a new Palestinian state are so formidable, is it even possible? – https://theconversation.com/beyond-recognition-the-challenges-of-creating-a-new-palestinian-state-are-so-formidable-is-it-even-possible-262493

56 million years ago, Earth underwent rapid global warming. Here’s what it did to pollinators

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Vera Korasidis, Lecturer in Environmental Geoscience, The University of Melbourne

Pollinators play a vital role in fertilising flowers, which grow into seeds and fruits and underpin our agriculture. But climate change can cause a mismatch between plants and their pollinators, affecting where they live and what time of year they’re active. This has happened before.

When Earth went through rapid global warming 56 million years ago, plants from dry tropical areas expanded to new areas – and so did their animal pollinators. Our new study, published in Paleobiology today, shows this major change happened in a remarkably short timespan of just thousands of years.

Can we turn to the past to learn more about how interactions between plants and pollinators changed during climate change? That’s what we set out to learn.

A major warming event 56 million years ago

In the last 150 years, humans have raised atmospheric carbon dioxide concentrations by more than 40%. This increase in carbon dioxide has already warmed the planet by more than 1.3°C.

Current greenhouse gas concentrations and global temperature are not only unprecedented in human history but exceed anything known in the last 2.5 million years.

To understand how giant carbon emission events like ours could affect climate and life on Earth, we’ve had to go deeper into our planet’s history.

Fifty-six million years ago there was a major, sudden warming event caused by the release of a gigantic amount of carbon into the atmosphere and ocean. This event is known as the Paleocene-Eocene Thermal Maximum.

For about 5,000 years, huge amounts of carbon entered the atmosphere, likely from a combination of volcanic activity and methane release from ocean sediments. This caused Earth’s global temperature to rise by about 6°C and it stayed elevated for more than 100,000 years.

Although the initial carbon release and climate change were perhaps ten times slower than what’s happening today, they had enormous effects on Earth.

Earlier studies have shown plants and animals changed a lot during this time, especially through major shifts in where they lived. We wanted to know if pollination might also have changed during this rapid climate change.

Paleobotanist Scott Wing, palynologist Vera Korasidis and colleagues searching for new pollen samples in Wyoming from 56 million-year-old rocks.
Richard Barclay

Hunting for pollen fossils in the badlands

We looked at fossil pollen from the Bighorn Basin, Wyoming – a deep and wide valley in the northern Rocky Mountains in the United States, full of sedimentary rocks deposited 50 to 60 million years ago.

The widespread badlands of the modern Bighorn Basin expose remarkably fossil-rich sediments. These were laid down by ancient rivers eroding the surrounding mountains.

We studied fossil pollen because we wanted to understand changes in pollination. Pollen is invaluable for this because it is abundant, widely dispersed in air and water, and resistant to decay – easily preserved in ancient rocks.

We used three lines of evidence to investigate pollination in the fossil record:

  • fossil pollen preserved in clumps
  • how living plants related to the fossils are pollinated today, and
  • the total variety of pollen shapes.
56 million-year-old fossil pollen clumps collected from Wyoming and photographed on the National Museum of Natural History’s scanning electron microscope.
Vera Korasidis

What did we discover?

Our findings show pollination by animals became more common during this interval of elevated temperature and carbon dioxide. Meanwhile, pollination by wind decreased.

The wind-pollinated plants included many related to deciduous broad-leaved trees still common in moist northern hemisphere temperate regions today.

By contrast, the plants pollinated by animals were related to subtropical palms, silk-cotton trees and other plants that typically grow in dry tropical climates.

The decline in wind pollination was likely due to the local extinction of populations of wind-pollinated plants that grew in the Bighorn Basin.

Distant photo of a tall tree with a symmetrical canopy and amber trunk.
A silk-cotton tree (Ceiba pentandra) relies on the wind for pollination.
Klaus Schönitzer/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

The increase in animal-pollinated plants means that plants from regions with warmer, drier climates had spread poleward and moved into the Bighorn Basin.

Earlier studies have shown these changes in the plants of the Bighorn Basin were related to the climate being hotter and more seasonally dry than before – or after – this interval of rapid climate change.

Pollinating insects and other animals likely moved 56 million years ago along with the plants they pollinated. Their presence in the landscape helped new plant communities establish in the hot, dry climate. It may have provided invaluable resources to animals such as the earliest primates, small marsupials, and other small mammals.

A lesson for our future

What lessons does this ancient climate change event have to offer when we think about our own future?

The large carbon release at the beginning of the Paleocene-Eocene Thermal Maximum clearly resulted in major global warming. It dramatically altered ecosystems on land and in the sea.

In spite of these dramatic changes, most land species and ecological interactions seem to have survived. This is likely because the event occurred at about one-tenth the rate of current anthropogenic climate change.

The forests that returned to the region after more than 100,000 years of hot, dry climate were very similar to those that existed before. This suggests that in the absence of major extinction, forest ecosystems and their pollinators could reestablish into very similar communities even after a very long period of altered climate.

The key for the future may be keeping rates of environmental change slow enough to avoid extinctions.

The Conversation

Vera Korasidis received funding from the University of Melbourne Elizabeth and Vernon Puzey Fellowship Award.

Scott Wing’s fieldwork was supported by the Roland W. Brown fund of the Department of Paleobiology, and by the MacMillan Fund of the National Museum of Natural History.

ref. 56 million years ago, Earth underwent rapid global warming. Here’s what it did to pollinators – https://theconversation.com/56-million-years-ago-earth-underwent-rapid-global-warming-heres-what-it-did-to-pollinators-260297

Wikipedia’s ‘neutrality’ has always been complicated. New rules will make questioning it harder

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Heather Ford, Professor, Communications, University of Technology Sydney

Franckreporter / Getty Images

Last month, the American non-profit organisation behind Wikipedia issued draft guidelines for researchers studying how neutral Wikipedia really is. But instead of supporting open inquiry, the guidelines reveal just how unaware the Wikimedia Foundation is of its own influence.

These new rules tell researchers – some based in universities, some at non-profit organisations or elsewhere – not just how to study Wikipedia’s neutrality, but what they should study and how to interpret their results. That’s a worrying move.

As someone who has researched Wikipedia for more than 15 years – and served on the Wikimedia Foundation’s own Advisory Board before that – I’m concerned these guidelines could discourage truly independent research into one of the world’s most powerful repositories of knowledge.

Telling researchers what to do

The new guidelines come at a time when Wikipedia is under pressure.

Tech billionaire Elon Musk, who was until recently also a senior adviser to US President Donald Trump, has repeatedly accused Wikipedia of being biased against American conservatives. On X (formerly Twitter), he told users to “stop donating to Wokepedia”.

In another case, a conservative think tank in the United States was caught planning to “target” Wikipedia volunteers it claimed were pushing antisemitic content.

Until now, the Wikimedia Foundation has mostly avoided interfering in how people research or write about the platform. It has limited its guidance to issues such as privacy and ethics, and has stayed out of the editorial decisions made by Wikipedia’s global community of volunteers.

But that’s changing.

In March this year, the foundation established a working group to standardise Wikipedia’s famous “neutral point of view” policies across all 342 versions in different languages. And now the foundation has chosen to involve itself directly in research.

Its “guidance” directly instructs researchers on both how to carry out neutrality research and how to interpret it. It also defines what it believes are open and closed research questions for people studying Wikipedia.

In universities, researchers are already guided by rules set by their institutions and fields. So why do the new guidelines matter?

Because the Wikimedia Foundation has lots of control over research on Wikipedia. It decides who it will work with, who gets funding, whose work to promote, and who gets access to internal data. That means it can quietly influence which research gets done – and which doesn’t.

Now the foundation is setting the terms for how neutrality should be studied.

What’s not neutral about the new guidelines

The guidelines fall short in at least three ways.

1. They assume Wikipedia’s definition of neutrality is the only valid one. The rules of English Wikipedia say neutrality can be achieved when an article fairly and proportionally represents all significant viewpoints published by reliable sources.

But researchers such as Nathaniel Tkacz have shown this idea isn’t perfect or universal. There are always different ways to represent a topic. What constitutes a “reliable source”, for example, is often up for debate. So too is what constitutes consensus in those sources.

2. They treat ongoing debates about neutrality as settled. The guidelines say some factors – such as which language Wikipedia is written in, or the type of article – are the main things shaping neutrality. They even claim Wikipedia gets more neutral over time.

But this view of steady improvement doesn’t hold up. Articles can become less neutral, especially when they become the focus of political fights or coordinated attacks. For example, the Gamergate controversy and nationalist editing have both created serious problems with neutrality.

The guidelines also leave out important factors such as politics, culture, and state influence.

3. They restrict where researchers should direct their research. The guidelines say researchers must share results with the Wikipedia community and “communicate in ways that strengthen Wikipedia”. Any criticism should come with suggestions for improvement.

That’s a narrow view of what research should be. In our wikihistories project, for example, we focus on educating the public about bias in the Australian context. We support editors who want to improve the site, but we believe researchers should be free to share their findings with the public, even if they are uncomfortable.

Neutrality is in the spotlight

Most of Wikipedia’s critics aren’t pushing for better neutrality. They just don’t like what Wikipedia says.

The reason Wikipedia has become a target is because it is so powerful. Its content shapes search engines, AI chatbot answers, and educational materials.

The Wikimedia Foundation may see independent and critical research as a threat. But in fact, this research is an important part of keeping Wikipedia honest and effective.

Critical research can show where Wikipedians strive to be neutral but don’t quite succeed. It doesn’t require de-funding Wikipedia or hunting down its editors. It doesn’t mean there aren’t better and worse ways of representing reality.

Nor does it mean we should discard objectivity or neutrality as ideals. Instead, it means understanding that neutrality isn’t automatic or perfect.

Neutrality is something to be worked towards. That work should involve more transparency and self-awareness, not less – and it must leave space for independent voices.

The Conversation

Heather Ford receives funding from the Australian Research Council. She was previously a member of the Wikimedia Foundation Advisory Board.

ref. Wikipedia’s ‘neutrality’ has always been complicated. New rules will make questioning it harder – https://theconversation.com/wikipedias-neutrality-has-always-been-complicated-new-rules-will-make-questioning-it-harder-262706

Often parents and schools disagree about whether something is ‘bullying’: what happens next?

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Karyn Healy, Honorary Principal Research Fellow in Psychology, The University of Queensland

Monkey Business Images/ Shutterstock

Bullying in schools can can have a devastating impact on victims. Research shows it can lead to reduced academic performance depression, anxiety and even suicidal behaviour. So, preventing and reducing bullying is an urgent priority for governments as well as families and schools.

However, a common obstacle to addressing bullying is that parents and schools often disagree about whether a particular situation constitutes bullying.

A study in Norwegian schools found that when parents think their child is being bullied, around two-thirds of the time, the school does not agree. There are also cases in which the school says a child is bullying others, but the child’s parents don’t agree.

Why is it so complicated? How can parents approach this situation?

What does ‘bullying’ mean?

When we look at the definition of bullying, it is not surprising disagreements occur. Identifying bullying is not clear-cut.

The definition used in Australian schools captures the key elements defined by international research. Bullying is a form of aggression that:

  • is hurtful for the victim

  • happens repeatedly over time

  • involves an intent to harm

  • involves a power imbalance, with victims feeling unable to stop the problem.




Read more:
With a government review underway, we have to ask why children bully other kids


After a report of bullying, what does the school do?

When a student or parent reports bullying, usually the first thing a school does is talk with students, teachers and parents, and observe interactions between students.

However, there are many challenges in working out whether behaviour is bullying.

First, bullying often occurs when adults are not around and students often don’t tell teachers, so direct observation is not always possible.

Second, even if a teacher is present, social forms of bullying can be very subtle, such as turning away to exclude someone, or using a mocking facial expression, so it can be easily overlooked.

Third, determining whether there is “intent to harm” can be difficult as students accused of bullying may claim (rightly or wrongly) they were “only joking” or not intending to hurt or upset.

Fourth, the issue of power is not easy to determine. If the student is older or physically bigger, or if multiple students are involved in bullying, a power difference may seem apparent. But when power is based on popularity, a power difference may not be clear. There are also cases in which students may deliberately accuse others of bullying to get them into trouble (which may in itself constitute bullying).

Finally, not all aggressive behaviour is bullying. For example, conflict that involves arguments or fights between equals is not bullying, as there is no power imbalance. However, this situation can still be upsetting.

A more difficult situation occurs when the victim of bullying reacts aggressively – such as when they lash out angrily to taunts. The aggressive response of the victim may be more visible to teachers than the bullying that provoked the outburst, and this can make the direction of bullying difficult for schools to ascertain.

What if the school and parents disagree?

A school may not prioritise limited resources to resolve cases they do not see as bullying. This can leave the student languishing and can be very distressing for families.

However, research shows parents’ reports that their child has been bullied predict an increased risk of later child anxiety and depression, regardless of whether school staff concur or were even asked if the child was bullied.

So whether or not the school initially agrees a child is being bullied, it is important to improve the situation.

What can be done?

Sometimes, by taking steps to address the situation, the school can find out if bullying is occurring.

For example, sometimes children are upset by behaviours that may seem innocuous – such as humming, tapping or standing close. If this behaviour is not intended to hurt, we would expect children to reduce this when made aware it is upsetting. However, if the behaviour increases or continues, even with reminders, there would be more reason to believe it is deliberately intended to provoke (and is bullying).

One helpful strategy for parents is to keep a careful record of the child’s experiences – exactly what the child experiences and how it impacts them. This can help establish a pattern of hurtful behaviours over time.

It’s important for parents to maintain a good relationship and ongoing communication with the school (however difficult). As bullying can be a complex and evolving issue, good communication can help ensure issues are promptly managed.

The parent can coach the child to manage the situation – for example, to ask in a friendly and confident way for other students to stop when they are doing things they don’t like. The parent can also help the child plan when they would ask a teacher for help.

By working together, and understanding the problem better over time, schools and families can address behaviour that is hurtful – whether or not there is initial agreement it is “bullying”.


If this article has raised issues for you, or if you’re concerned about someone you know, call Lifeline on 13 11 14 or Kids Helpline on 1800 55 1800.

The Conversation

Karyn Healy has received funding from QIMR Berghofer Medical Research Institute, the Australian Research Council and Australian government Emerging Priorities Program and is an honorary Principal Research Fellow with The University of Queensland. Karyn is a co-author of the Resilience Triple P parenting program. Resilience Triple P and all Triple P programs are owned by the University of Queensland. The university has licensed Triple P International Pty Ltd to publish and disseminate Triple P programs worldwide. Royalties stemming from published Triple P resources are distributed to the Parenting and Family Support Centre, School of Psychology, Faculty of Health and Behavioural Sciences and contributory authors. No author has any share or ownership in Triple P International Pty Ltd.

ref. Often parents and schools disagree about whether something is ‘bullying’: what happens next? – https://theconversation.com/often-parents-and-schools-disagree-about-whether-something-is-bullying-what-happens-next-261474

Trump administration cuts to terrorism prevention departments could leave Americans exposed

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Kris Inman, Professor of African Studies and Security Studies, Georgetown University

Ghanaian special forces take part in U.S. military-led counterterrorism training near Jacqueville, Ivory Coast, on Feb. 16, 2022. AP Photo/Sylvain Cherkaoui

Staff at the State Department’s Office of Countering Violent Extremism and Bureau of Conflict and Stabilization Operations, which led U.S. anti-violent extremism efforts, were laid off, the units shuttered, on July 11, 2025.

This dismantling of the country’s terrorism and extremism prevention programs began in February 2025. That’s when staff of USAID’s Bureau of Conflict Prevention and Stabilization were put on leave.

In March, the Center for Prevention Programs and Partnerships at the Department of Homeland Security, which worked during the Biden administration to prevent terrorism with a staff of about 80 employees, laid off about 30% of its staff. Additional cuts to the center’s staff were made in June.

And on July 11, the countering violent extremism team at the U.S. Institute of Peace, a nonpartisan organization established by Congress, was laid off. The fate of the institute is pending legal cases and congressional funding.

President Donald Trump in February had called for nonstatutory components and functions of certain government entities, including the U.S. Institute of Peace, to “be eliminated to the maximum extent consistent with applicable law.”

These cuts have drastically limited the U.S. government’s terrorism prevention work. What remains of the U.S. capability to respond to terrorism rests in its military and law enforcement, which do not work on prevention. They react to terrorist events after they happen.

As a political scientist who has worked on prevention programs for USAID, the U.S. Institute for Peace, and as an evaluator of the U.S. strategy that implemented the Global Fragility Act, I believe recent Trump administration cuts to terrorism prevention programs risk setting America’s counterterrorism work back into a reactive, military approach that has proven ineffective in reducing terrorism.

The US war against terrorism

Between 9/11 and 2021, the cost of the U.S. war on terrorism was $8 trillion and 900,000 deaths, according to a Brown University study. Nonetheless, terrorism has continued to expanded in geographic reach, diversity and deadliness.

Though it was territorially defeated in Syria in 2019, the Islamic State – designated a foreign terrorist organization by the U.S. government – has expanded globally, especially in Africa. Its nine affiliates on the continent have joined several al-Qaida-linked groups such as al-Shabab.

The Islamic State has expanded through a decentralized model of operations. It has networks of affiliates that operate semi-autonomously and exploit areas of weak governance in places such as Mali and Burkina Faso. That makes them difficult to defeat militarily.

A building with an arched rood and multiple windows.
The U.S. Institute of Peace in Washington, D.C., on March 18, 2025.
Roberto Schmidt/AFP via Getty Images

These terrorist organizations threaten the U.S. through direct attacks, such as the ISIS-linked attack in New Orleans on Jan. 1, 2025, that killed 14 people.

These groups also disrupt the global economy, such as Houthi attacks on trade routes in the Red Sea.

To understand why terrorism and extremism continue to grow, and to examine what could be done, Congress charged the U.S. Institute of Peace in 2017 to convene the Task Force on Extremism in Fragile States.

This bipartisan task force found that while the U.S. military had battlefield successes, “after each supposed defeat, extremist groups return having grown increasingly ambitious, innovative, and deadly.”

The task force recommended prioritizing and investing in prevention efforts. Those include strengthening the ability of governments to provide social services and helping communities identify signs of conflict – and helping to provide tools to effectively respond when they see the signs.

The report contributed to the Global Fragility Act, which Trump signed in 2019 to fund $1.5 billion over five years of prevention work in places such as Libya, Mozambique and coastal West Africa.

Programs funded by the Global Fragility Act included USAID’s Research for Peace, which monitored signs of terrorism recruitment, trained residents in Côte d’Ivoire on community dialogue to resolve disputes, and worked with local leaders and media to promote peace. All programming under the act has shut down due to the elimination of prevention offices and bureaus.

What the US has lost

The State Department issued a call for funding in July 2025 for a contractor to work on preventing terrorists from recruiting young people online. It stated: “In 2024, teenagers accounted for up to two-thirds of ISIS-linked arrests in Europe, with children as young as 11 involved in recent terrorist plots.”

In the same month, the department canceled the program due to a loss of funding.

It’s the kind of program that the now defunct Office of Countering Violent Extremism would have overseen. The government evidently recognizes the need for prevention work. But it dismantled the expertise and infrastructure required to design and manage such responses.

Lost expertise

The work done within the prevention infrastructure wasn’t perfect. But it was highly specialized, with expertise built over 2½ decades.

Chris Bosley, a former interim director of the violence and extremism program at the U.S. Institute of Peace who was laid off in July, told me recently, “Adequate investment in prevention programs isn’t cheap, but it’s a hell of a lot cheaper than the decades of failed military action, and more effective than barbed wire – tools that come too late, cost too much, and add fuel to the very conditions that perpetuate the threats they’re meant to address.”

For now, the U.S. has lost a trove of counterterrorism expertise. And it has removed the guardrails – community engagement protocols and conflict prevention programs – that helped avoid the unintended consequences of U.S. military responses.

Without prevention efforts, we risk repeating some of the harmful outcomes of the past. Those include military abuses against civilians, prisoner radicalization in detention facilities and the loss of public trust, such as what happened in Guantanamo Bay, in Bagram, Afghanistan, and at various CIA black sites during the George W. Bush administration.

Counterterrorism prevention experts expect terrorism to worsen. Dexter Ingram, the former director of the State Department’s Office of Countering Violent Extremism who was laid off in July, told me: “It seems like we’re now going to try shooting our way out of this problem again, and it’s going to make the problem worse.”

Four men dressed in military gear walk along a city street.
Federal agents patrol New Orleans, La., following a terrorist attack on Jan. 1, 2025.
Andrew Caballero-Reynolds/AFP via Getty Images

What can be done?

Rebuilding a prevention-focused approach with expertise will require political will and bipartisan support.

U.S. Reps. Sara Jacobs, a Democrat from California, and Mike McCaul, a Texas Republican, have introduced a bill that would reauthorize the Global Fragility Act, extending it until 2030. It would allow the U.S. government to continue preventing conflicts, radicalization and helping unstable countries. The measure would also improve the way various government agencies collaborate to achieve these goals.

But its success hinges on securing funding and restoring or creating new offices with expert staff that can address the issues that lead to terrorism.

This analysis was developed with research contributions from Saroy Rakotoson and Liam Painter at Georgetown University.

The Conversation

Kris Inman 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. Trump administration cuts to terrorism prevention departments could leave Americans exposed – https://theconversation.com/trump-administration-cuts-to-terrorism-prevention-departments-could-leave-americans-exposed-261630

Eddington ends with a dark joke about disability – but its punchline is centuries old

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Billie Anderson, Ph.D. Candidate, Media Studies, Western University

Joaquin Phoenix, left, who plays small-town sheriff Joe Cross, and Pedro Pascal, who plays the town’s mayor, Ted Garcia, in a scene from Ari Aster’s film ‘Eddington.’ (A24)

This story contains spoilers about ‘Eddington,’ ‘Midsommar’ and ‘Hereditary.’

Ari Aster’s new film Eddington is a political satire set in a small American town, where a feud between Sheriff Joe Cross (Joaquin Phoenix) and Mayor Ted Garcia (Pedro Pascal) begins with disagreement over pandemic policy, but quickly escalates into a chaotic, paranoid power struggle. What starts as a clash of ego spirals into increasingly violent and absurd confrontations.

In the film’s closing minutes, Joe is abruptly stabbed in the head by someone described as “anti-fascist terrorist” after an extended shootout. He survives, and the next time we see him he’s a quadriplegic wheelchair user and non-verbal.

By the end, Joe has been appointed mayor, either by default or out of public pity. The last shot leaves him as the town’s figurehead alongside a giant AI data centre in the desert: a monument to the forces that now shape human life, governance and identity.

It’s brutal, cynical, mean-spirited and a tad esoteric. But Aster seems to be offering a scathing portrait of American politics and the men like Joe who populate it: stubborn, self-righteous, vaguely libertarian; men clinging to authority, even as the world moves on without them.

There’s irony in the film’s portrayal of anarchic protesters, live-streamers and the failed machismo of Joe’s character arc. But when the laughter of the climax fades, what remains is something all too familiar: disability as the poetic consequence of bad behaviour. Not as an ongoing human experience, but as karmic spectacle.

Disability as consequence, not condition

Joe’s fate follows a centuries-old narrative pattern in which disability is framed as punishment, poetic justice or moral revelation. From medieval Christian theology to contemporary satire, bodily difference has long been used to symbolize inner failing. Impairment stands in for sin, ego, corruption or spiritual deficiency.

Enlightenment rationalism and eugenics-era pseudoscience cemented this association, casting disabled bodies as physically manifest proof of social and moral inferiority.

Cinema inherited these tropes, and still leans on them. As disability studies scholars David Mitchell and Sharon Snyder argue, disability is often introduced not to explore a character’s complexity, but to serve as a metaphorical crutch or shortcut to meaning.

Cinematic trailer for Ari Aster’s 2025 film ‘Eddington.’

The disabled body often appears when something needs to be revealed, resolved or punished. In Eddington, Joe’s fate is exactly that.

Disability arrives not as an opening to new experience but as closure: a visual and symbolic transformation from dangerous man to inner object. Joe is no longer speaking, acting or choosing.

The film seems to punish him, not for a single action, but for what he represents: a particular kind of white male authority figure that is combative, self-righteous and increasingly out of touch.

While Joe does oppose the mayor’s early pandemic policies, including mask mandates, his real “crime” in the film is his stubbornness and inflated self-control. He doubles down on personal power, even as systems collapse around him. His disability, then, functions as justice: a final, ironic version of the control he fought so hard to maintain.

He has become a site for meaning-making — a silent figure whose stillness now says everything about the futility of power, the absurdity of authority, the fall of the American sheriff, the political centrist.

Familiar patterns in Aster’s work

Ari Aster’s earlier films follow similar patterns. In Hereditary (2018) Charlie’s facial difference and neurodivergence signal otherness and fragility; her death becomes the hinge on which the horror turns.

In Midsommar (2019), Ruben, a disabled oracle, is portrayed as both holy and someone without personal agency: a vessel for prophecy rather than a fully developed character.

Across Aster’s filmography, disability tends to show up not as life, but as a symbol; as curse, as mysticism, as moral sign. Eddington takes that formula and strips it down even further: Joe becomes disabled at the moment the movie decides he’s no longer needed. It’s efficient, final and familiar.

Disability as visual rhetoric

As disability studies scholar Rosemarie Garland-Thomson writes, disabled bodies are often positioned as visual rhetoric. They are something to be interpreted, not inhabited.

Joe’s silence and stillness as a result of him becoming disabled don’t invite audiences to understand his experience; they invite us to read him, as if his body were a sentence the director had written.

We do see a glimpse of care: Joe appears to be tended to by a man who is now also his mother-in-law’s partner. But even this is played for laughs.

There’s no reckoning with long-term adaptation, no real engagement with the material realities of disability. The body remains an object, not a subject, and once it serves a rhetorical function, the camera moves on.

The real pandemic disabled millions

The symbolic use of disability hits differently given the film’s setting. Eddington is a pandemic movie — a chaotic satire of COVID-era paranoia, misinformation and isolation.

But COVID-19 hasn’t just destabilized governments, upended social norms and exacerbated online political turmoilit has disabled people.

Millions globally now live with long COVID, facing chronic pain, fatigue, cognitive impairment and dramatic changes to their work, social lives and health-care access.




Read more:
People with long COVID continue to experience medical gaslighting more than 3 years into the pandemic


The pandemic is a mass disabling event, not a metaphor. And yet, Eddington engages with disability only as a punchline. It becomes an ironic punishment for a man too arrogant to admit his limits. The joke lands harder when it treats disability as poetic justice instead of ongoing reality.

Toward fuller representation

Disability studies invites us to consider disability not as a narrative end point, but as a relational and continuous experience shaped by care networks, access barriers, evolving identities and collective adaptation.

What if Eddington had stayed with Joe after his injury? What if it explored his new position not through silence or shame, but through the messy human realities of interdependence?

What if the satire had gone further, asking not just what happens to a sheriff when he’s taken down, but what happens to power when it must rely on care? What if Joe had died and his mother-in-law had become mayor as a serious disruption of legacy politics?

Absurdism and dark comedy about the body aren’t the problem. But the symbolic shorthand of disability as justice carries weight, especially when disabled people continue to be marginalized, disbelieved and erased in the very real world that Eddington pretends to parody.

A sharper satire would engage with disability as part of the social fabric that challenges the audience to reckon with embodiment, dependence and mutual obligation. It could surprise audiences by refusing the easy exit of moral symbolism. It could be more rewarding, radical — and frankly, more intellectual — than another joke equating impairment with comeuppance.

The portrayal of disability in Eddington is not malicious, but it is predictable. It continues a long tradition of using disability to signal judgement, irony or narrative finality.

But real life doesn’t offer such clean punctuation. Disability is not the end of a story, but the start of a more complex, embodied and political one. Until cinema catches up, satires like Eddington will continue to undermine what they claim to critique.

The Conversation

Billie Anderson 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. Eddington ends with a dark joke about disability – but its punchline is centuries old – https://theconversation.com/eddington-ends-with-a-dark-joke-about-disability-but-its-punchline-is-centuries-old-262780

‘Better Than Chocolate’ highlights lost 90s decade of lesbian Canadian cinema

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Tamara de Szegheo Lang, Adjunct Assistant Professor, Department of Film and Media, Queen’s University, Ontario

“If coming out of the closet was really as much fun as it is for the sexually adventurous youths in Better Than Chocolate, then everybody would be doing it, even straight people.”

So wrote film critic Bruce Kirkland in his 1999 review of the lesbian romantic comedy by Canadian filmmaker Anne Wheeler.

film poster showing a woman's naked back who is being embraced by another woman
‘Better Than Chocolate’ was released in 1999.
(Wikipedia/Trimark Pictures/IMBD)

Kirkland pointed out that real life for queer and trans community members was “tougher, harsher and nastier” than portrayed in the 90-minute romp, but also wrote: “To hell with reality, at least for an hour-and-a-half. This movie is a little treasure and offers a lot of pleasure.”

The endearing rom-com won audience choice awards at a number of gay and lesbian film festivals, including in its hometown of Vancouver.

Today, more than a quarter century later, with hate crimes against queer and trans people on the rise and legal protections, especially in the United States, being threatened or ripped away, the film’s lens on romance — and the joy, safety and complications of being in community — may resonate with contemporary viewers and offer a brief reprieve from the heaviness of the political fight.

Like many Canadian lesbian-driven films from the 1990s, it also serves as an example of filmmakers working in queer communities to highlight once-censored voices, and reflects the sheer ingenuity and creative force of community collaboration in this moment — something that has been underrepresented in broader histories of queer and Canadian national cinema.

Whirlwind romance

In Better Than Chocolate, bookstore employee Maggie (Karyn Dwyer) and nomadic artist Kim (Christina Cox) start a whirlwind romance, moving in together within a matter of hours (echoing the classic U-Haul lesbian stereotype).

Their love story is complicated by the arrival of Maggie’s mother Lila (Wendy Crewson), a judgmental woman fresh off a divorce who doesn’t know her daughter is a lesbian. Comedic chaos ensues as the two young lovebirds navigate romantic, familial and community conflicts, all of which are neatly wrapped up by the end.

Though Better Than Chocolate may ultimately be a feel-good comedy, the film captures a community under attack from outside and within.

Skinheads harass Maggie and Kim, culminating in violence. Judy (Peter Outerbridge) is accosted for being transgender and is consistently misgendered by other lesbians.

The Canadian Border Services Agency purposefully targets neurotic bookstore owner, Frances (played by actor, author, playwright and Canadian lesbian icon Ann-Marie Macdonald), for selling queer literature.

Lesbian-centred 90s film

Better Than Chocolate is only one in a wave of lesbian-centred 90s films made in Canada. In this decade, creatives produced at least 12 narrative feature-length lesbian-centred films, several documentaries and over 400 short films.

Some echo Better Than Chocolate’s romantic tone, but the wave includes a diversity of genres – including erotic thrillers, family dramas and experimental dreamscapes.

Some of these films are well-recognized in the Canadian film canon, including Deepa Mehta’s Fire (1996) and Patricia Rozema’s When Night is Falling (1995), while others have been largely forgotten and prove hard to access today, like Patricia Rivera Spencer’s Dreamers of the Day (1990) and Jeanne Crépeau’s Revoir Julie (1998).

Ecosystem behind lesbian Canadian film

Canadian economic, social and artistic contexts offered a vital creative ecosystem that facilitated such a vibrant era of lesbian-driven cinema.

Feminist filmmaking collectives in the 1970s — like Women in Focus (Vancouver), intervisions/ARC (Toronto) and Reel Life (Halifax) — alongside the launch of Studio D at the National Film Board of Canada in 1974 — provided dedicated space for training talent and for producing films about women’s issues.

A woman smiling.
Anne Wheeler.
(www.annewheeler.com)

Wheeler came up through Studio D, co-directing the studio’s first film in 1975.

Canadian artists also had access to several funding sources, including federal, provincial and local arts councils. Beginning in the late 80s, such funding sources were soliciting more diverse content, a result of community activism driven by marginalized artists.

Importantly, a growing network of queer film festivals aided the development of an invested audience willing to pay to watch queer stories.

From 1985 to 2000, at least 11 annual queer festivals were founded in Canada, including Reel Pride (Winnipeg, 1985); Out on Screen (Vancouver, 1988); image+nation (Montréal, 1989); London Lesbian Film Festival (London, 1991); and Inside Out (Toronto, 1991).

With increasing venues to screen queer work and growing audiences came the demand for more films.

A Vancouver lesbian story

Alongside the broader Canadian context, local contexts also encouraged more filmmakers to tell lesbian stories.

Wheeler had long been committed to making films about lesser-represented Western Canada. While most of her films were set in Alberta, Better Than Chocolate moved her focus to Vancouver and its local queer politics.

The dramatic subplot between bookstore owner Frances and the Canada Border Services Agency (CBSA) is a clear reference to the then-ongoing Supreme Court of Canada case involving Little Sister’s Book and Art Emporium in Vancouver.

Little Sister’s, a queer bookstore, had been targeted for years by the CBSA, which would delay shipments while confiscating and sometimes damaging materials that it considered obscene.

The film publicized the homophobia of the CBSA, with Frances comedically demanding to know why books such as Little Red Riding Hood had been confiscated.

As we discovered in our archival research, Janine Fuller, the manager of Little Sister’s, provided feedback on an early draft of the screenplay. A flyer from the film’s production company was also used to raise the visibility of the court case.

Local community ties

The film’s community ties extended further. As noted in archival documents and the film’s press package, Canadian trans activist and performance artist Star Maris inspired the filmmakers when crafting the character of Judy. Her song, “I’m Not a Fucking Drag Queen,” was solicited for use within the film.

Vancouver’s lesbian community was invited to participate as extras in a bar scene, with an advertisement stating, “This is an excellent opportunity to meet new friends, party with old ones, have much fun being in a movie.”

Finally, as Anne Wheeler told Eye Weekly in 1999: “Right from the development phase on, we had a group of 12 young lesbian women whom we consulted with and they told us very specifically what they did and didn’t want to see. … So we set out very intentionally to break the mould and dispose of the old perceptions about gay women.”

In returning to Better Than Chocolate and other films, queer audiences may find entertaining gems, but may also be reminded of the power of survival of queer communities.

Better Than Chocolate is now available on CTV. Don’t stop there! In addition to films named above, check out these other Canadian lesbian-centred 90s feature films.

Tokyo Cowboy (1994)

Skin Deep (1994)

Devotion (1995)

Cat Swallows Parakeet and Speaks (1996)

High Art (1998)

2 Seconds (1998)

Emporte-Moi (1999)

The Conversation

Tamara de Szegheo Lang receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada (SSHRC)
for the project “Bodies on Fire: Rekindling Canada’s Decade of Lesbian-Driven Filmmaking.”

Dan Vena receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada (SSHRC) for the project “Bodies on Fire: Rekindling Canada’s Decade of Lesbian-Driven Filmmaking.”

ref. ‘Better Than Chocolate’ highlights lost 90s decade of lesbian Canadian cinema – https://theconversation.com/better-than-chocolate-highlights-lost-90s-decade-of-lesbian-canadian-cinema-259494