Category: English

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Dafydd Townley, Teaching Fellow in US politics and international security, University of Portsmouth

One year into his second term of office, Donald Trump’s foreign policy aspirations have led him to variously lay claim to Canada, the Panama Canal and, most contentiously at present, Greenland. He has kidnapped the head of state of Venezuela, saying that the US can run the country and exploit its oil, and he has issued threats against the sovereignty of Colombia, Mexico and Cuba.

Whatever the 47th president’s motivations, his expansionist vision has echoes of a little-known organisation that flourished briefly in the middle decades of the 19th century: the Knights of the Golden Circle. The Knights were a secret society founded in Lexington, Kentucky, in 1854 by Virginian doctor George W.L. Bickley.

Membership of the group is largely hidden from historians due to the secretive nature of the organisation. But legend suggests that its leaders included the likes of confederate general Nathan Bedford Forrest (who would go on to be the first Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan) and Abraham Lincoln’s assassin, John Wilkes Booth.

The society’s name was chosen to reflect the wealth that would be created by establishing a slaveholding empire that would initially consist of Mexico, Central America and the Caribbean. The so-called “Golden Circle”, with its headquarters in Havana, Cuba, would encompass much of the world’s supply of cash crops such as tobacco, rice, cotton, sugar and coffee, and the production of each depended on significant enslaved workforces.

The initial intention was not to have an independent empire but to annex the area to the American south, strengthening the cause of slavery. But the group shifted tactics as tensions escalated in the late 1850s, especially after the the Supreme Court’s Dred Scott decision (1857) that ruled that African Americans were not and could never be citizens. And as the abolitionist movement in the north gathered pace, the Golden Circle society adapted to support the secession of the southern states from the Union to be absorbed into the other Golden Circle territories.

The exact number of members of the Knights of the Golden Circle is unknown. Bickley claimed it had 115,000 members at one point – although this seems unlikely due to Bickley’s failure to raise troops to invade Mexico.

The Knights’ goals were not simply territorial expansion. They were ambitions of ideological conquests rooted in the continuation of slavery, as viewed through the lens of a “manifest destiny”: the idea that the white man should expand its dominance across the continent of America to the exclusion of native populations.

While the organisation’s influence was limited, it reflected the 19th-century American premise that territorial expansion could forever secure a social order built on hierarchy and chattel slavery.

Trump’s Maga vision

Fast forward to the present day, and American imperialist expansion no longer wears the uniform of secret societies such as the Knights. Instead, it emerges through presidential rhetoric, policy signalling and deliberate ambiguity.

On January 20 2025, Donald Trump was sworn in as the 47th president of the United States. His first year in office has seen profound changes both in his own country and across the globe. In this series, The Conversation’s international affairs team aims to capture the mood after the first year of Trump’s second coming.

Under Trump, America’s ambitions in the western hemisphere have been framed as annexations driven by hemispheric dominance. Trump unironically called it the “Donroe doctrine”, a personalised and transactional reinterpretation of the Monroe doctrine’s core claim: that the Americas are solely within the United States’ sphere of influence.

Where the 1823 Monroe doctrine warned European powers against further colonisation while professing American restraint, Trump’s version dispenses with the pretence of mutual sovereignty. It treats neighbouring states not as equals but as strategic assets or bargaining chips. The language is typically Trumpian (blunt and improvised) but it argues that external powers have no role in the governance of the western hemisphere, and that the United States has the final say-so.

Cuba is at the centre of this worldview. While Trump has not openly advocated annexing the island, he has attempted to use coercive pressure as a substitute for territorial control. Efforts to disrupt Cuban energy supplies and renewed talk of regime change echo traditional American treatment of Cuba as an unfinished project. Consequently, Trump’s Cuba policy resembles the establishment of an informal American empire.

The Knights of the Golden Circle imagined Cuba not just within the American sphere of influence but as territory to be absorbed. Their obsession with Havana as the Golden Circle’s centre reflected an understanding that southern power depended on control of the Caribbean. Trump’s posture is less explicit, but the strategy is very similar. Cuba is viewed as a prize within America’s reach and yet denied.

The same logic appears elsewhere in the Americas. Trump’s threats toward Mexico blur the line between cooperation and coercion. America’s neighbours’ sovereignty becomes negotiable when framed as an American security problem. Pressure on Venezuela and Columbia also reflects a willingness to treat political outcomes in the Americas as matters of US entitlement.

What distinguishes the so-called Trump corollary from previous American hemispheric dominance is its tone. It is unapologetically hierarchical and dismisses multilateral norms. It harks back to a time when the US could act first and justify itself later. Where cold war policymakers cloaked intervention in ideological language, Trump’s rhetoric is strikingly transactional. Influence is something to be purchased or compelled.

This brings the comparison with the Knights of the Golden Circle into sharper focus. The Knights had a secret vision of empire, brought to life by slavery and racial hierarchy. Trump’s ambitions are in the public sphere, filtered through state power. But both reflect that geography confers entitlement and that the Americas exist in a fundamentally different moral category.

In this light, Trump’s policy is not a radical break with American history but an unvarnished return to its imperial ambitions. The map may no longer be redrawn by conquest, but the logic that once animated the Golden Circle, one of hemispheric control as destiny, has not disappeared. It has merely learnt to speak in the idiom of modern populism.

Dafydd Townley 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. 19th-century plan for a slaving empire based in US deep south and Caribbean resonates with Trump’s foreign policy today – https://theconversation.com/19th-century-plan-for-a-slaving-empire-based-in-us-deep-south-and-caribbean-resonates-with-trumps-foreign-policy-today-272871

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Juliane Kaminski, Associate Professor of Comparative Psychology, University of Portsmouth

Imagine Max, a well-trained border collie, manages to ignore a squirrel in the park
when his owner tells him to sit. His owner says, “Max, stop chasing that squirrel and sit down,” and Max obeys. Can dogs learn and understand words the way humans do?

A new study found dogs like Max may have learnt the names of objects (like a squirrel) from overhearing their owners talking. The study is the latest to try and understand whether intelligent dogs and humans can have real conversations.

A widely reported case in 2004 brought this question into the spotlight. Rico, an eight-year-old border collie was the first dog who demonstrated under experimental conditions that he knew the names of over 200 different toys.

Dogs like Rico seem different to other ones. Scientists have a name for them: label-learner dogs. They seem so exceptional, it’s easy to wonder if they’re learning words in a similar way to humans. Research is starting to give us some answers. But first, it’s important to understand how these dogs have been studied.

In 2004, researchers, including myself, wanted to make sure Rico wasn’t simply reacting to subtle, unconscious signals from people. So Rico was tested in a room where he couldn’t see anyone. He still fetched the correct toys upon hearing the command “Fetch, xy”. That meant he was not using visual cues from his owner.

The next big question was whether Rico could learn new name-object combinations the way young children do. Children often learn new words through a process called fast mapping. They hear a new word, look at the options and figure out what it must refer to. For example, if a child knows what “blue” means but not “olive,” and you show them a blue object and an olive-green one, they’ll probably choose the olive-green one when you ask for “olive”.

Rico showed something similar in his behaviour. When researchers placed a brand-new toy among familiar ones and asked for a name he had never heard before, he picked the new toy. He even remembered some of these new name-object pairs weeks later. That means Rico could pick up new names for things without seeing people point at them or look at them or give any other obvious hints.

He just heard a new name and figured out what it referred to.

It seems that there is a group of gifted dogs that have realised that objects have names. These dogs appear to have an exceptional ability to learn the names of many objects. Like Rico’s ability to learn names through a process of elimination, these dogs can also learn independently, without needing additional cues to identify the object being named.

But what is it, that makes these dogs gifted in this way? To explore this question, my colleagues and I recently studied a group of these unusually talented dogs, of various breeds (border collies, mixed breeds, a Spanish water dog and a pug). Many label-learner dogs are border collies but lots of other breeds seem to have this ability too.

My colleagues and I gave them a set of cognitive puzzles to solve. Each dog completed eight tasks designed to measure curiosity, problem solving, memory, learning ability and their ability to follow human communicative cues like pointing or gazing. A second group of dogs – matched by age, sex and breed – (and without any special name-learning skills) took the same tests so we could compare the two groups.

The label-learner dogs consistently showed three key traits. They were obsessed with new objects. They showed strong, selective interest in particular items. And they were better at controlling their impulses when interacting with objects. However, more research will need to investigate whether these traits appear naturally in some puppies or whether they can be shaped through training as a dog grows.

The findings may eventually lead to something like a puppy “IQ test” that identifies young dogs with the potential to learn many object names. This could help trainers select dogs well suited for important roles such as assisting people with sight or hearing impairments or supporting police work.

But does this all now mean dogs learn words like children do? After all the new paper about overhearing used a approach designed to study understanding in human toddlers.

The answer is: not quite. Children learn thousands of words, and they do it rapidly and flexibly. Even at 18 months, children don’t just match a word to whatever they see at the moment.

They can understand what an adult intends to talk about by realising when a person is referring to something that isn’t there. For example, if a parent says, “Where’s the teddy we played with this morning?” even though the teddy is not in the room, the child may still understand what the parent means and go look for it. Children use shared context to understand others.

Even the highly skilled label-learner dogs seem to struggle to understand object-name links this way.

Although there is ample evidence that dogs seem specifically adapted to human use human given gestural communicative cues, like pointing and gazing, when it comes to “word-learning” the evidence we have is just that dogs can form object-name associations. We also know that some dogs can acquire hundreds of these associations or might have understood a rule that objects have names.

This is not comparable to word learning in children. By around age two, typical English-speaking children learn approximately ten new words each day, reaching an average vocabulary of about 60,000 words by the age of 17.

When they learn words, children apply rules and principles. Their language acquisition is based on the understanding of others as “intentional beings”, that other people have goals and intentions. They recognise that when someone talks, points or gestures, they are trying to share an idea, ask for something, or draw attention to something. For example, when a parent says “Look at the dog!” the child typically understands that the parent wants them to notice the dog, not that the words are just random sounds.

However, there is currently no conclusive evidence to suggest that this core principle, underpins dogs’ interactions with humans.

Dogs are amazing learners, but their abilities are not the same as human language learning. They learn names for objects, not language.

Juliane Kaminski 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. Some dogs can pick up hundreds of words – do they learn like children? – https://theconversation.com/some-dogs-can-pick-up-hundreds-of-words-do-they-learn-like-children-273620

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Maria Lucia Passador, Assistant Professor, Department of Law, Bocconi University

For the UK after Brexit, it is tempting to imagine that regulation no longer comes from Brussels. Yet one of the most significant pieces of digital legislation anywhere in the world – the EU’s Artificial Intelligence Act – is now coming into force, and its effects will reach UK companies, regulators and citizens.

AI is already threaded through daily life: in how loans are priced, how job applications are sifted, how fraud is detected, how medical services are triaged, and how online content is pushed.

The EU’s AI Act, which is entering into force in stages, is an attempt to make those invisible processes safer, more accountable and closer to European values. It reflects a deliberate choice to govern the social and economic consequences of automated decision-making.

The act aims to harness the innovative power of AI while protecting EU citizens from its harms. The UK has chosen a lighter regulatory path, but it will not be immune from the act’s consequences. Through the AI Office and national enforcement authorities, the EU will be able to sanction UK companies that have operations in the bloc, regardless of where they have their headquarters.

The act enables authorities to impose fines or demand that systems be changed. This is a signal that the EU is now treating AI governance as a compliance issue rather than a matter of voluntary ethics. My research outlines the power of the enforcement provisions, particularly their influence on how AI systems will be designed, deployed or even withdrawn from the market.

Many of the systems most relevant to everyday life, such as those used in employment, healthcare or credit scoring, are now deemed “high-risk” under the act. AI applications in these scenarios must satisfy demanding standards around data, transparency, documentation, human oversight and incident reporting. Some practices, such as systems that use biometric data to exploit or distort people’s behaviour by targeting vulnerabilities such as age, disability or emotional state, are simply banned.

The regime also extends to general-purpose AI – the models that underpin everything from chatbots to content generators. These are not automatically classified as high-risk but are subject to transparency and governance obligations alongside stricter safeguards in situations where the AI could have large-scale or systemic effects.

This approach effectively exports Europe’s expectations to the world. The so-called “Brussels effect” operates on a simple logic. Large companies prefer to comply with a single global standard rather than maintain separate regional versions of their systems. Firms that want access to Europe’s 450 million consumers will therefore simply adapt. Over time, that becomes the global norm.

Read more:
UK government’s AI plan gives a glimpse of how it plans to regulate the technology

The UK has opted for a far less prescriptive model. While its own comprehensive AI legislation appears to be in doubt, regulators – including the Information Commissioner’s Office, Financial Conduct Authority and Competition and Markets Authority – examine broad principles of safety, transparency and accountability within their own remits.

This has the virtue of agility: regulators can adjust their guidance as required without waiting for legislation. But this also shifts a greater burden on to firms, which must anticipate regulatory expectations across multiple authorities. This is a deliberate choice to rely on regulatory experimentation and sector-specific expertise rather than a single, centralised rulebook.

Agility has trade-offs. For small and medium-sized firms trying to understand their obligations, the EU’s clarity might seem more manageable.

There is also a risk of regulatory misalignment. If Europe’s model becomes the global reference point, UK firms may find themselves working to both the domestic standard and the European one demanded by their clients. Maintaining this will be costly and is rarely sustainable.

Why UK companies will be affected

Perhaps the most consequential – but least widely understood – aspect of the EU’s AI Act is that extraterritorial scope that I mentioned earlier. The act applies not only to companies based inside the EU but also to any provider whose systems are either placed on the EU market or whose outputs are used within the bloc.

This captures a vast range of UK activity. A London fintech offering AI-driven fraud detection to a Dutch bank, a UK insurer using AI tools that inform decisions about policyholders in Spain, or a British manufacturer exporting devices to France – all of these fall squarely within European regulation.

My research also covers the obligations for banks and insurers – they may need robust documentation, human-oversight procedures, incident-reporting mechanisms and quality-management systems as a matter of course.

Even developers of general-purpose AI models could find themselves under fire, particularly where regulators identify systemic risks or gaps in transparency that warrant closer scrutiny or corrective action.

For many UK firms, the more pragmatic choice will be to design their systems to EU standards from the outset rather than produce separate versions for different markets.

Although this debate often sounds abstract, its effects are anything but. Tools that determine your access to credit, employment, healthcare or essential public services increasingly rely on AI. The standards imposed by the EU – particularly requirements to minimise discrimination, ensure transparency and maintain human oversight – are likely to spill over into UK practice simply because large providers will adapt globally to meet European expectations.

Europe has made its choice: a sweeping, legally binding regime designed to shape AI according to principles of safety, fairness and accountability. The UK has chosen a more permissive, innovation-first path. Geography, economics and shared digital infrastructure all ensure that Europe’s regulatory pull will reach the UK, whether through markets, supply chains or public expectations.

The AI Act is a blueprint for the kind of digital society Europe wants – and, by extension, a framework that UK firms will increasingly need to navigate. In an age when algorithms determine opportunity, risk and access, the rules that govern them matter to all of us.

Maria Lucia Passador 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. The EU’s new AI rulebook will affect businesses and consumers in the UK too – https://theconversation.com/the-eus-new-ai-rulebook-will-affect-businesses-and-consumers-in-the-uk-too-272467

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Jing Wu, Postdoctoral Researcher, Integrative Epidemiology, Karolinska Institutet

The scientist Stephen Hawking lived with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), the most common type of motor neurone disease, for 55 years. He was one of the longest-surviving people with the condition.

However, most people with motor neurone disease are not as lucky. It often progresses quickly, and many pass away within two to five years of diagnosis. There is still no cure. Genetics account for only about 10% of cases, and the rest of the causes are still largely a mystery.

A new study in the journal Jama Neurology showed one possible contributor: air pollution, both for the risk of developing motor neurone disease and for how it progresses.

In the study, my colleagues and I examined air pollution levels at each of the 10,000 participant’s home address for up to ten years before diagnosis. We focused on two common types of outdoor pollutants that are widely linked to health harms: nitrogen dioxide and particulate matter.

Particulate matter is made up of tiny airborne particles (far thinner than a human hair). It is usually grouped by size: PM2.5 (less than or equal to 2.5 micrometres), PM10 (less than or equal to 10 micrometres), and the in-between fraction PM2.5-10 (between 2.5 and 10 micrometres).

We found that being exposed to air pollution over the long term, even at the fairly low levels typically seen in Sweden, was linked to a 20–30% higher chance of developing motor neurone disease. What’s more, the pattern still held up when we compared siblings, which helps rule out a lot of shared factors like genetics and growing up in the same environment.

We also observed that people with motor neurone disease who had been exposed for years to higher levels of PM10 and nitrogen dioxide faced a greater risk of death or of needing a machine to help them breathe.

These pollutants are typically produced by nearby road traffic. Taken together, the results suggest that pollution generated close to home, especially from local vehicle emissions, may have a stronger effect than particulate matter carried in from farther away, which tends to account for much of the broader day-to-day variation in particulate matter levels.

Doctors regularly keep tabs on how well patients are managing everyday functions across a few key areas. These include bulbar function (speech, saliva control and swallowing), fine motor function (handwriting, cutting food, dressing and personal hygiene), gross motor function (turning in bed and adjusting bedding, walking and climbing stairs) and breathing (shortness of breath, difficulty breathing when lying flat, and signs of respiratory failure).

The participants in our study were assessed about every six months after diagnosis. We then looked at how quickly the disease was getting worse overall and within each of these domains. Patients whose decline was faster than that of 75% of other patients were labelled as having faster progression.

We found that long-term exposure to air pollution was associated with higher odds of having faster progression overall, particularly affecting motor and respiratory function, but not bulbar function.

Broader implications

The reasons for these differences are not yet clear. One possibility is that different parts of the nervous system vary in their vulnerability to pollution-related injury. It could also be because air pollution has consistently been linked to chronic lung diseases, reduced lung function and infections, all of which have been associated with poorer outcomes in ALS.

We accounted for many factors that could influence both air pollution exposure and motor neurone disease risk, including personal and neighbourhood income, education, occupation and whether participants lived in urban or rural areas. Our study did not have data on smoking habits or indoor air pollution exposure. However, there is no evidence suggesting that people with and without motor neurone disease differ significantly in these factors in ways that would explain our findings.

These results bring us closer to understanding motor neurone disease and may eventually help with earlier diagnosis and better treatment. But there’s a wider message here. We’re all exposed to air pollution, and the evidence keeps mounting that it harms our health in serious ways. Cleaning up our air could do far more good than we realise.

Jing Wu receives funding from Karolinska Institutet’s Research Foundation.

– ref. Air pollution may be linked to increased risk of motor neurone disease, our new study indicates – https://theconversation.com/air-pollution-may-be-linked-to-increased-risk-of-motor-neurone-disease-our-new-study-indicates-272457

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Athanasia Daskalopoulou, Senior Lecturer in Marketing, University of Liverpool

In certain corners of the internet recently, people have been debating why “women can’t stop reading fairy porn”.

These discussions centre around the fantasy romance genre, also known as romantasy, which has exploded in both popularity and sales. Onyx Storm, Rebecca Yarros’s third book in The Empyrean series, was the fastest-selling adult novel in 20 years when published in early 2025, according to the New York Times. It sold more than 2.7m copies in its first week.

Bloomberg reported that romantasy was estimated to bring in US$ 610m (£455m) in sales in 2024, revitalising the publishing industry. These growing sales have made us, as feminist marketing scholars, interested in understanding this genre and its readers who swoon over muscular, handsome faerie princes and dream of dragon taming.

Traditionally, male readers have dominated fantasy fiction fandoms. As such, narratives centring female characters have often been sidelined in many of the most popular fantasy fiction books. Think of J.R.R. Tolkein’s Bilbo and Frodo Baggins from The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, or Fitz from Robin Hobb’s The Farseer Trilogy series.

Romantasy stories counter this, offering fantasy worlds where romance is a key plot point. The protagonists are often women and they centre women’s stories and women’s romantic relationships.

Female characters in these books set off on “hero journeys”, meet handsome and caring men along the way, experience romance and sexual pleasure, and defeat evil. In some ways, romantasy follows many familiar fantasy tropes, including good vs evil, medieval settings or magical schools, fantastical creatures and magical powers. However, they also incorporate tropes from romance – a genre that has historically sustained the publishing industry – such as enemies to lovers, forbidden love and forced proximity (oh no, there’s only one bed).

No one’s 20s and 30s look the same. You might be saving for a mortgage or just struggling to pay rent. You could be swiping dating apps, or trying to understand childcare. No matter your current challenges, our Quarter Life series has articles to share in the group chat, or just to remind you that you’re not alone.

Read more from Quarter Life:

• Heated Rivalry shows how queer joy can disrupt hockey’s culture of masculinity

• Love is Blind returns – but is there truth to the show’s ‘social experiment’? Here’s what the research says

• Twenty experts on the book that got them through their 20s – part one

Romantasy books, however, are often mistaken for erotica or “smut” for women. Readers sometimes rank books in terms of “spicy” levels indicating how salacious their storylines are. However, sexual content is not new to fantasy. Some of the most popular fantasy books, like George Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series (Game of Thrones), include frequent and graphic sex scenes.

Romantasy, however, has a distinct draw. These stories feature experiences of consensual sex and female-centred sexual pleasure while also tapping into complex themes. For instance, Rebecca Yarros’s Fourth Wing deals with chronic illness and Sarah J Mass’s A Court of Thornes and Roses deals with several traumas, including grooming, sexual abuse, war and poverty.

Romantasy authors, who are often women, aim to eschew the “male gaze” typical of much media, including literature. This is where, as feminist film scholar Laura Mulvey describes, women are often presented as passive objects for male sexual pleasure and viewing, rather than as active subjects with agency. For instance, in A Song of Ice and Fire and similar fantasy books, the sex often includes a form of violence against women.

Romantasy books instead centre the “female-gaze” in which female desire, power and identity are explored from a female point of view.

In the study we are working on, women have expressed that romantasy enables them to experience romantic and sexual fantasies that they might not experience in the real world, and helps them discover and experiment with their sexuality.

Younger readers we spoke to found liberation in reading about realistic and non-taboo representations of women’s romantic and sexual fantasies. Women from conservative cultures said they were inspired by female characters who are not afraid or ashamed to seek out sexual pleasure.

Romantasy books are not without their issues, however. Despite the female-centred narratives, some of the most popular books in the genre perpetuate heterosexual norms, either ignore racial and sexual diversity, or feature problematic and limiting representations of them. For example, Rebecca Yarros proudly states that Xaden, the male love interest character in Fourth Wing, is not white, without specifying which race he is – as though all non-white racial groups are the same.

However, in our study, we continue to find that even if all women (especially older women and women of colour) cannot connect to romantasy protagonists, they resonate with how these stories prioritise female pleasure and safety, with partners that are devoted to them. It is not only “smut” or “spice” that appeals to female readers, but more importantly, the acknowledgement of women as sexual subjects, rather than objects for male pleasure or targets of sexual violence.

While sex is an important part of romantasy, it is not erotica. Where erotica is all about the sex, often, the “spicy” content in romantasy only lasts a few pages and is a part of a broader romantic arc between the protagonist and the supporting male love interests.

As the genre continues to grow, we hope that romantasy is taken seriously by the publishing industry (it’s certainly benefiting from it) as well as by the wider public. Currently, the industry popularises TikTok viral books, resulting in repetitive, white-centric and heterosexual stories. There are, however, diverse representations to be found. For instance, The Emily Wilde series by Heather Fawcett or Paladin’s Grace by T. Kingfisher both feature women in their thirties and forties.

For queer representation and cosy romance, there’s Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree. Additionally, books by women of colour, like The Inheritance Trilogy by N.K. Jemisin, and The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty, feature racial and ethnically diverse characters in a fantasy setting with a romantic subplot.

Perhaps in time, like with other genre writing, publishers and readers will seek out, support and promote more diverse stories in romantasy that will appeal to all kinds of women.

Looking for something good? Cut through the noise with a carefully curated selection of the latest releases, live events and exhibitions, straight to your inbox every fortnight, on Fridays. Sign up here.

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

– ref. Romantasy: sexy tales of women-centred fantasy fiction are boosting the publishing industry – https://theconversation.com/romantasy-sexy-tales-of-women-centred-fantasy-fiction-are-boosting-the-publishing-industry-272737

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Tim Bale, Professor of Politics, Queen Mary University of London

What we used to think of as Britain’s two main parties, Labour and the Conservatives, seem more than happy to postpone as many of this year’s upcoming local elections as possible.

Labour insists the delays are needed because of ongoing local authority reorganisation. Opponents allege the decision has more to do with opinion polls that show both parties losing out badly to Reform, the Lib Dems and the Greens.

Who knows which is true? But it’s all yet another reminder that the UK’s formerly cosy, two-party system seems to be falling apart in front of our eyes.

In a year that holds the potential for electoral gains in councils and in races for the Welsh Senedd and Scottish parliament, what we used to refer to as country’s “minor” parties will have to run many campaigns.

In order to take full advantage of that fragmentation, they ideally need boots on the ground – people prepared to knock on doors and push leaflets through letter boxes in order to encourage supporters to actually get out and vote. These days, it’s also useful to have people willing to create (or at least share) content online.

That raises the question: who do they have? Given that the people who do the most campaigning for parties are its members, we can start by looking at how these numbers are distributed around the country. Reform makes big splashes in the national media, but does it have people who know the ground in the Vale of Clwyd?

My colleagues and I – the party members project run out of Queen Mary University of London and the University of Sussex – have looked into this in a newly published report.

It’s one thing to have plenty of party members – and there have been huge surges in people joining both the Greens and Reform since we conducted our surveys around the time of the 2024 election – but it matters where they’re located and how much they’re prepared to do.

Obviously, it helps to have members in those areas of the country that, opinion polls suggest, are particularly fertile territory. This may well be the case for the Lib Dems and for Reform, although Reform leader Nigel Farage will surely be hoping that that he’s managed to recruit a few more members in Wales and in London since we did our field work.

At that time, just 8% of Reform members were located in Wales, compared to 30% in the south of England. Only 12% of members were in London, where every borough has a council election in 2026.

As for the Greens, they look rather thinly spread. Like Reform, there’s more of a presence in the south, where 32% of members are to be found. But in London it’s 12%, although it looks like that might be changing fast and for the better in some parts of the capital.

Certainly, irrespective of which region they’re located in, if Green party members live in those multicultural urban areas where Labour looks vulnerable, then they could still prove very useful in May.

How useful members are, of course, also depends on whether they’re willing to actually help out. At the 2024 election, from which our data is derived, around a third of all Lib Dem and Reform UK members, devoted no time at all to their party’s campaign efforts. The Tories, Greens and Labour had it even worse. Around half of their members put no time in.

Digging a bit deeper into the kind of activities members do reveals some interesting differences. In the increasingly important online world, it looks as if the Greens and Reform UK may well have something of an advantage. Their members were more likely to share social media content about their party than members of the Lib Dems and Conservatives.

On the doorstep, however, it’s the Lib Dems who are right up there. Some 37% of Lib Dems delivered leaflets to people’s homes in 2024 – a figure that rises to 59% if we ignore those members who told us they’d done nothing for the party during the election.

This is one of the reasons, along with continued Conservative weakness, why, in spite of them being paid far less attention than current media darlings, the Greens and Reform UK, Lib Dem leader Ed Davey’s often underrated party stands to do well in the spring.

Reform’s membership performed less impressively in 2024 – only 20% delivered leaflets, albeit a figure that rises to 34% if we take those members who did nothing at all out of the equation. The figures for canvassing (a rather more demanding activity which parties often struggle to persuade members to help with) – 12% and 21% – are much lower.

A key question for Farage, then, will be how he can motivate the people who’ve flooded into his party (boosting its membership to over 270,000) to get out on the doorstep or at least hit the phones in order to contact voters. Zack Polanski faces a similar challenge when it comes to the 150,000 people who now belong to the Greens, most of whom have joined since he took over as leader.

Campaigning by members isn’t everything, of course. Activists who aren’t members play a part, as does top-down, national campaigning – even in local elections. Still, these figures do give some insight into the strengths and weaknesses of party organisation around the country at the start of what looks set to be a crucial set of elections this spring.

Want more politics coverage from academic experts? Every week, we bring you informed analysis of developments in government and fact check the claims being made.

Sign up for our weekly politics newsletter, delivered every Friday.

Tim Bale has received funding from Research England for this survey work.

– ref. Ahead of seismic local elections, what we know about Reform’s ability to put boots on the ground for the campaign – https://theconversation.com/ahead-of-seismic-local-elections-what-we-know-about-reforms-ability-to-put-boots-on-the-ground-for-the-campaign-273626