Category: English

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Sorin M.S. Krammer, Professor of Strategy and International Business, University of Southampton

Until recently, AI’s role in research felt like having a useful assistant. It could summarise a paper, clean up a dataset or draft an abstract. Researchers were still in charge of the thinking.

That changed in late 2025 when cutting-edge “frontier” AI models became capable of reasoning and planning reliably by themselves. A key feature of these models is “tool calling” – the ability to interact with external tools in order to act on the world, not just describe it.

This marks the rise of agentic AI: systems that do not just respond to instructions but can independently plan, execute and iterate. In science as in other fields, chatbots have become coworkers that can autonomously complete real work, end to end.

An example of this is Tokyo-based Sakana AI’s The AI Scientist. Unveiled in mid-2025 and now in its second iteration, the Japanese tech company bills this as “the first comprehensive system for fully automatic scientific discovery”.

The AI Scientist scans existing literature, generates hypotheses, writes and executes code, analyses results and produces a full research paper – largely without human involvement. It reasons, fails and revises, just as a junior scientist would.

The proof? An AI Scientist academic paper describing “a pipeline for automating the entire scientific process end to end” was accepted by the International Conference on Learning Representations and published in the scientific journal Nature in March 2026, following peer review.

This represents something genuinely new: an autonomous AI system passing a milder version of the Turing test by demonstrating scientific quality, if not (yet) machine intelligence.

Other significant achievements include Singapore-based startup Analemma carrying out a live demonstration of its Fully Automated Research System (Fars) in February. It produced 166 complete machine-learning research papers in roughly 417 hours for around US$1,100 (£810). That’s one academic paper every 2.5 hours at a cost that would sustain a research assistant for a couple of weeks.

And Google Cloud AI Research recently unveiled PaperOrchestra, which takes a researcher’s raw experimental logs and rough notes and converts them into a submission-ready manuscript, with figures and verified citations. In blind evaluations by 11 AI researchers, it easily outperformed existing autonomous systems in this area.

Having spent two decades researching disruptive technological innovations, I believe a significant threshold has been crossed. While there is a way to go before AI systems match the very best human-produced work, the era of fully automated research has arrived.

Implications for academia

The arrival of autonomous research systems lands on an academic system under severe strain in many countries. Over the last decade, the number of papers submitted to academic journals has grown much faster than the pool of qualified peer reviewers, leading to suggestions that the science publication system is being “overwhelmed”.

If systems like Fars can produce thousands of papers per year, the publication infrastructure of science faces a volume it was never designed to handle. Some academic reviews have already been identified as using AI-generated content. As submission numbers continue to rise, this may alter the role of a published academic paper as a definitive signal of the quality and skills of human researchers.

An optimistic take is that AI may shift academia away from its strong reliance on quantity-based metrics, in favour of how influential or innovative publications are. This is a reform critics of the current system have long called for.

Less optimistically, as AI research scales up, an academic system designed for coherent, methodologically defensible contributions may inflate the proportion of incremental, rather than radically novel, scientific contributions. Both the quality and originality of research could suffer as a result.

Science has always needed its heretics to advance. Italian astronomer Galileo, the “father of modern science”, was forced to recant his defence of heliocentrism before the Catholic Church’s Inquisition. Hungarian physician Ignaz Semmelweis died in a psychiatric institution having failed to convince his colleagues that handwashing could save lives.

Yet historically, the ability of scientific institutions to encourage radical approaches has also been a mainstaple of how science has progressed. To sustain this, AI systems will need to be trained to maximise novelty and transformation, rather than plausibility and incremental progress.

AI’s impact on creative industries

The transformative effects of this new breeed of AI extend well beyond scientific research. A striking example is The Epstein Files. This fully AI-generated podcast reached number one the UK Apple Podcasts and Spotify charts in early 2026, drawing 700,000 downloads in its first week.

Music is further along and more conflicted. By mid-2025, the fully AI-generated band The Velvet Sundown had amassed over a million monthly Spotify listeners. In 2026, the platform was forced to introduce artist-protection features after AI tracks began displacing human music on popular playlists, while Deezer, facing roughly 50,000 AI-generated uploads daily, began excluding them from curated lists.

Ownership remains the elephant in the room. US courts have ruled that AI-generated works cannot be copyrighted, since human authorship remains a legal requirement. AI can produce at industrial scale, but no one can own the output legally.

This matters far beyond intellectual property law. In creative industries, it threatens the royalty streams, licensing deals and catalogue valuations on which artists, labels and publishers have built their entire business models for generations.

In science, meanwhile, it is destabilising the entire incentive architecture, which rests on the foundational assumption that knowledge is both generated and owned by humans. When that assumption dissolves, so does much of the institutional logic that has governed how we produce, reward and trust expertise.

The question, across all these fields, is no longer whether AI can produce the work. Rather, it is whether sufficient thought has gone into what we will gain and lose when it does.

Sorin M.S. Krammer 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 AI scientist: now academic papers can be fully automated, what does this mean for the future of research? – https://theconversation.com/the-ai-scientist-now-academic-papers-can-be-fully-automated-what-does-this-mean-for-the-future-of-research-282161

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Natasha Lindstaedt, Professor in the Department of Government, University of Essex

Pakistan has emerged as a central diplomatic broker in the conflict between the US and Iran. When announcing a pause to the US operation to guide stranded vessels through the Strait of Hormuz on May 6, Donald Trump said he had made the decision “based on the request of Pakistan”.

The Pakistani prime minister, Shehbaz Sharif, subsequently expressed hope “that the current momentum will lead to a lasting agreement that secures durable peace and stability for the region and beyond”. This latest intervention comes a month after Pakistan secured its biggest diplomatic win in years by brokering a ceasefire in Iran.

But how did Pakistan emerge as the most trustworthy mediator in this conflict, and what drove Islamabad to involve itself? Pakistan’s biggest advantage is that it enjoys relationships with both the US and Iran, which has helped it be seen as a neutral party by each side.

Pakistan has worked with the US in dealing with Iran for decades. Since 1981, two years after the US and Iran severed diplomatic ties following the Islamic revolution, a dedicated section of the Pakistani embassy in Washington has handled Iranian diplomatic affairs in the US.

Pakistan has also worked with the US in mediation efforts elsewhere. Most notably, it facilitated former US secretary of state Henry Kissinger’s secret visit to China in 1971. This paved the way for the normalisation of relations between the US and China later that decade.

Relations between the US and Pakistan have not always been smooth. In 2011, a decade after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, the Atlantic magazine in the US referred to Pakistan as the “ally from hell”. Whether or not it did so knowingly, Pakistan hosted al-Qaeda mastermind Osama bin Laden following the attack.

Trump himself also denied Pakistan military aid during his first term as president, saying it was not doing enough to combat terrorism. And Pakistan’s human rights record, particularly concerning democratic backsliding and restrictions on civil liberties, have at times led to tension with the US government.

However, Pakistan’s relationship with the US has improved markedly in Trump’s second term. Trump, who often uses personal ties to guide US foreign policy, has developed a strong relationship with Sharif and the chief of Pakistan’s army, Asim Munir. In June 2025, Munir was even invited to the White House for a private lunch. This was the first time a US president had hosted a non-head of state military leader at this level.

Pakistan’s recent efforts to court Trump have played a key role in building these ties. Over the past year Pakistan has nominated Trump for the Nobel Peace Prize, joined his Board of Peace and launched a collaboration with his World Liberty Financial crypto platform.

And in July, Islamabad signed a deal with the US to allow Washington to help develop Pakistan’s largely untapped oil reserves. “We read him [Trump] right,” said the former chairman of the Pakistani Senate’s Defense Committee, Mushahid Hussain Syed, in an interview with the Washington Post on April 20.

The relationship between Pakistan and Iran has also been characterised by ups and downs. While Iran was the first country to recognise Pakistan’s independence in 1947, their relationship has often been fraught with tension. This largely stems from Iran’s territorial claim to the Balochistan province of Pakistan, as well as from Pakistan’s ties with Iranian rivals.

As recently as January 2024, tensions between the two countries appeared to be escalating again over Balochistan. However, hostilities soon receded and both countries formally resumed their bilateral ties. They subsequently expanded their security cooperation and invited each other’s ambassadors and foreign ministers for a formal reconciliation ceremony.

Strategic necessity

Some commentators argue that Pakistan’s decision to step in as the primary mediator in Iran has been driven by strategic necessity. Its Balochistan province is currently grappling with an insurgency. Islamabad will thus want to avoid a situation where the Iran war spills into Pakistan, as this could destabilise its border regions even further.

There are also economic reasons explaining Pakistan’s involvement. Pakistan has been severely affected by the disruption to Gulf shipping. It imports between 85% and 90% of its crude oil from Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates (UAE) and almost 99% of its liquified gas from the UAE and Qatar.

Before the war broke out, Pakistan’s economy had been starting to gain momentum. But higher oil prices are now affecting government revenues, increasing its fuel import bill from US$300 million (£220 million) before the conflict to US$800 million now. Pakistan’s authorities have been forced to raise consumer fuel prices by more than 50%.

Pakistan’s agricultural sector, which employs around 40% of the country’s population, is also vulnerable to the conflict due to its reliance on fertiliser imported through the Strait of Hormuz. Prices of urea fertiliser have surged by 50% since the war broke out. Prolonged disruption to the agriculture sector risks plunging some of the most vulnerable people in Pakistan further into poverty.

Remittances are another area that could be affected by a protracted conflict, with as many as five million Pakistani people living in the Gulf region. Pakistan received roughly US$30 billion in remittances between 2025 and 2026, 54% of which came from the Gulf.

If the war continues to affect Gulf economies, many Pakistani workers may be forced to return home. This will cause remittance revenues to fall, depriving Pakistan of a vital source of foreign exchange, while simultaneously pushing up domestic unemployment.

Pakistan’s relationships with the US and Iran put it in a strong position to intervene in the conflict diplomatically. But its mediation has also been a calculated effort to stabilise its borders and protect its economy.

Natasha Lindstaedt 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. How Pakistan became the primary mediator between the US and Iran – https://theconversation.com/how-pakistan-became-the-primary-mediator-between-the-us-and-iran-282342

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Adriana Marin, Lecturer in International Relations, Coventry University

Netflix’s latest drama Legends offers a compelling window into the criminology of undercover policing, covert surveillance and organised crime.

Inspired by a real UK customs investigation, the six-part drama follows ordinary British customs officers sent deep undercover to infiltrate drug trafficking gangs.

Written by Neil Forsyth (also creator of Brink’s-Mat robbery drama The Gold), Legends balances tension and realism with a measured, slow-burn pace that prioritises character over spectacle. Steve Coogan plays Don, a former undercover police officer tasked with recruiting customs officers to go undercover themselves to infiltrate drug gangs.

Much of its strength rests on the central performance of Tom Burke, whose portrayal of the lead undercover officer, Guy, anchors the series emotionally. Burke brings a quiet intensity to the role, capturing the unease, vulnerability, and moral ambiguity of someone living between identities.

The supporting cast also does an exceptional job, reinforcing the drama’s grounded and realistic tone, capturing the collective pressure, uncertainty and emotional toll of undercover work.

Becoming a legend

Unlike elite operatives, these are everyday officials thrust into extraordinary criminal worlds, making the series not just gripping television, but a sharp exploration of how undercover work reshapes identity, morality and survival.

The title itself is significant. In undercover policing, a “legend” is the carefully constructed false identity, complete with backstory, relationships, habits and a believable past. These identities must withstand intense scrutiny from criminals, meaning success depends on absolute credibility.

In Legends, officers must abandon their real selves and convincingly live as criminals to gain trust. This demands constant performance, producing intense psychological strain as loyalty to the state clashes with the need to belong within a criminal world.

In criminology, this reflects the concept of identity conflict. Undercover officers must operate simultaneously as agents of the law and participants in deviance. Howard Becker’s labelling theory is particularly relevant here: labels do not simply describe behaviour – they shape it.

To be effective, officers must adopt the identity of the “criminal,” often participating in minor illegality or forming close ties with offenders. As former undercover cop Don explains, “Your legend has to come from you, or it won’t work,” emphasising that a convincing undercover identity cannot simply be performed, it must feel authentic and internally lived to be believable.

Psychological unravelling

The result is moral ambiguity, where the line between observation and complicity becomes increasingly unstable. As seen in Donnie Brasco (1997) and The Departed, (2006) prolonged immersion can erode the boundary between professional duty and personal identity, leading not to control, but fragmentation.

Legends appears to centre on this psychological unravelling. These are not distant professionals but ordinary individuals removed from everyday life, required to deceive family and colleagues while facing the constant threat of exposure. This is particularly evident with Guy, who appears increasingly weighed down by the demands of sustaining his legend.

Even in controlled situations, there is a sense of constant vigilance in his interactions – carefully measured responses, restrained body language, and an underlying tension that suggests the effort required to remain convincing. At the same time, brief glimpses of his life beyond the operation hint at growing emotional distance, reinforcing how the undercover role begins to dominate his identity.

Criminologists describe this as role contamination, where it stops being a performance and begins to reshape the real self. The deeper the infiltration, the harder it becomes to return.

The criminal world they enter is equally significant. The series focuses on drug gangs, which links directly to organised crime theory. Drug trafficking organisations are not chaotic groups of offenders, but structured systems with hierarchies, codes of loyalty and mechanisms of control. Trust is currency; betrayal is often fatal.

For undercover officers, success depends on understanding not just who controls the drugs, but who controls fear, respect and power. This aligns with criminal enterprise theory, which argues that organised crime emerges in response to market demand.

Drug trafficking persists because prohibition generates profitable black markets, and criminal groups operate much like businesses within them. In this sense, Legends is not simply about crime, but about parallel economies embedded within society – where criminals may wield more immediate authority than the state.

In many communities, organised crime groups provide forms of protection, employment and dispute resolution where trust in formal institutions is weak. Drug gangs can become alternative authorities. For undercover officers, this makes infiltration even more complex because they must navigate a world where legitimacy is not automatically attached to the police or the government.

Instead, loyalty may belong to the gang leader who provides security or income. As it goes on, Legends is likely to show how dangerous this balance becomes when officers must earn trust in a system built on suspicion.

Legends also raises pressing ethical questions. Undercover policing relies on deception, manipulation and at times emotional exploitation. Officers may form relationships with people who are unaware they are being investigated, blurring the boundaries of acceptable state power.

If the law depends on deception to enforce itself, where should the limits lie? As films like Sicario (2015) suggest, the pursuit of justice can itself become morally compromised. Legends will probably explore this moral uncertainty, showing that successful infiltration often comes at a personal and ethical cost.

Ultimately, Legends is far more than a crime drama about drug gangs. It is a study of how states confront organised crime by constructing false identities and sending ordinary people into extraordinary danger.

This makes Legends not only compelling television, but also a valuable exploration of policing, identity, organised crime, and the hidden moral costs of state power.

Adriana Marin 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. Legends: new undercover drama explores tense clash between state loyalty and criminal credibility – https://theconversation.com/legends-new-undercover-drama-explores-tense-clash-between-state-loyalty-and-criminal-credibility-282309

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Bamo Nouri, Honorary Research Fellow, Department of International Politics, City St George’s, University of London

For months, the Iran war was framed through the language of military success. This was shaped in part by longstanding orientalist assumptions reflected in the rhetoric of leaders such as Donald Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu about the relative weakness and fragility of states such as Iran.

Encouraged by Israeli intelligence capabilities, precision strikes and overwhelming American military superiority, many policymakers appeared to assume Tehran would eventually collapse under pressure. Iran, in this view, was too isolated, internally divided and economically weakened to withstand sustained US-Israeli escalation. Some even suggested American troops would be welcomed by sections of a population frustrated with the regime.

But this hasn’t been the reality of the past two months. The Trump administration now appears to be groping for any settlement it can sell as a “win”. This may be hard if, as has been reported, the US military campaign ends without Iran being forced to make any meaningful concessions over its nuclear programme.

If that transpires, it will suggest that the German chancellor, Friedrich Merz, was right when he said that the US has been humiliated by Iran in a lesson about how power really works.

The problem was not simply military miscalculation. It was strategic incoherence rooted in assumption that Iran could not meaningfully endure prolonged confrontation. As the war progressed, the fantasy of decisive victory collapsed under the weight of economic, political and strategic reality.

No clear objective

At the same time, at least in public, America’s leadership appeared regularly to change its mind about what would represent a “win”. Was it destroying Iran’s nuclear and ballistic missile programmes, neutralising its armed forces, forcing regime change, or ending Tehran’s regional influence? Throughout the conflict, the objectives shifted constantly. That ambiguity was not a minor flaw in strategy. It was the strategy’s central weakness.

Modern wars require a clear objective and a realistic path to achieving it. Throughout this conflict, the US and Israel never convincingly defined either.

If the aim was regime change, there was never serious appetite for the kind of occupation and state reconstruction that had in Iraq and Afghanistan already proved disastrously costly.

If the aim was simply degrading Iran’s military capabilities, that was always going to be a temporary fix – Iran has spent decades building a system designed around resilience, decentralisation and survival under pressure.

And if the aim was to end Iran’s role as a regional power, that has clearly failed. Iran remains intact. Its institutions survived and were able to install a new generation of leadership. And, as we’ve seen over Tehran’s ability to control the Strait of Hormuz, Iran’s strategic relevance survived.

This was never going to be a conventional war about controlling territory. It was a clash between two very different understandings of victory. The US and Israel wanted a decisive and demonstrable victory. Iran wanted to endure. That distinction changed the entire war and handed the strategic advantage to Tehran.

Iran understood something many policymakers in Washington continue to underestimate: weaker states do not necessarily need to defeat stronger powers militarily in order to succeed. They simply need to avoid collapse while imposing sufficient economic, political and strategic costs that the stronger actor eventually recalculates.

This is not a new lesson. It runs through modern history, from Vietnam to Afghanistan. Superior military power does not automatically produce political victory. But more importantly, the conflict also revealed the increasing cost of escalation in an interconnected global economy.

Global battlefield

The war’s consequences spread across the global economy as oil prices surged, shipping routes faced disruption and already fragile supply chains came under renewed pressure. The closure of the Strait of Hormuz – through which roughly one-fifth of the world’s seaborne oil supply passes – was enough to trigger market anxiety. Iran does not need to fully close the strait to create economic shockwaves. In the modern global economy, uncertainty itself is a weapon.

The longer the war continued, the harder it was to remain politically sustainable – not just regionally, but globally. That is why, despite aggressive rhetoric, neither side now appears eager to return to full-scale war.

There is a broader lesson here that western powers repeatedly struggle to absorb: military power can destroy infrastructure and impose suffering, but it cannot easily manufacture legitimacy, political order or strategic clarity. That is why “winning” modern wars has become increasingly elusive even for the most powerful states on earth. Wars without realistic theories of victory tend to end the same way: through exhaustion, recalculation and negotiation. That increasingly appears to be where this conflict is heading.

The limits of power

Perhaps the greatest irony of the Iran war is that all sides now appear to recognise what should have been obvious from the beginning: total victory was never truly achievable. The war became a demonstration – not of the absence of power, but of its limits.

That matters in an increasingly fragmented global order where wars are becoming less about decisive triumph and more about endurance. States shaped by sanctions and prolonged isolation often develop a capacity to absorb pressure beyond what outside powers anticipate. Iran’s resilience was not created during this war. It was built over decades.

Military superiority still matters enormously. But the ability to endure politically, economically and socially matter just as much. Iran is a state with a complex, resilient structure, and depth of legitimacy especially when it comes to conflicts with the US and Israel. Iran understood that from the beginning.

It has taken Iran’s opponents too long to grasp the same facts. But they have now been educated by experience.

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. Iran war has become a lesson in how power really works – https://theconversation.com/iran-war-has-become-a-lesson-in-how-power-really-works-282391

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Christian Emery, Associate Professor in International Politics, UCL

Two months into the war in Iran, the reasons the US gave for launching this conflict – and Washington’s minimum criteria for claiming success – now appear unintelligible. So much so that US officials are now arguing the war had actually ended in America’s favour almost a month ago, when the ceasefire came into effect.

It is hard to think of a more damning indictment of Donald Trump’s catastrophic war in Iran than the spectacle of his secretary of state, Marco Rubio, telling reporters on May 5 that the main goal now was to get the Strait of Hormuz “back to the way it was: anyone can use it, no mines in the water, nobody paying tolls”.

This, he argued, was an entirely separate defensive and humanitarian operation and would only become a war if US ships came under fire – which they in fact did that same day. Rubio ignored the obvious contradiction that the humanitarian operation had been necessitated by the very war he was simultaneously presenting as already won.

Things took an even more absurd turn later that day. Trump announced he was suspending “Project Freedom”, his plan for the US Navy to escort tankers out of the strait, after just one day. The US president cited “great progress” toward an agreement with Iran. As has happened several times now, global stock markets rallied before falling back again.

While few doubt Trump is desperate to put this disastrous war behind him, particularly before heading to Beijing on May 14, he massively oversold the impression of a breakthrough. The Iranians were merely considering a 14-point proposal for 30 days of negotiations aimed at finding a durable end to the war.

The more convincing reason Trump abandoned Project Freedom is that it was already clear it would not solve the crisis. Most owners of the 1,500 ships currently stranded behind the strait were unwilling to risk passage even with a naval escort. Iran’s response, attacking shipping and launching missiles at the United Arab Emirates, also threatened the ceasefire itself.

Washington’s problem is that the Iranians will probably insist talks can only begin, and the Strait of Hormuz reopen, if Trump agrees to end the economic blockade of Iranian maritime trade. The US blockade is inflicting serious damage on the Iranian economy.

Apart from anything else, Iranian officials see ending the blockade as logical reciprocity. But they also understand time is running out before the closure of the strait causes lasting structural damage to the global economy – if it has not already. This gives them enhanced leverage at the moment.

Yet even if negotiations begin, the same problem that prevented a deal before the war remains. Trump lacks the detailed and institutionalised policy apparatus of his predecessor, Barack Obama, whose 2015 nuclear agreement with Iran the current US president so desperately wants to outdo. Obama’s deal took 20 months of intense wrangling to complete. Trump has neither the patience, technical expertise or direct diplomatic connections to achieve the same.

Added to this are new conditions created by the war itself. The fragmentation of Iran’s decision-making process and the empowerment of elites with an even higher tolerance for military and economic pressure have introduced uncertainty into the equation. And Iran has now realised the increased leverage it has through its ability to close a critical artery of the global economy.

Colossal failure

The answer on the nuclear issue may lie in a fudge. Iran could well agree to a moratorium on uranium enrichment while not yet agreeing to ship out or dilute its enriched uranium – though without ruling that out in order to prolong negotiations.

If slightly more moderate heads in Tehran prevail – and that remains a very big if – it would be an obvious concession to make. Iran’s geographic advantages and ballistic missile capabilities have established a credible deterrent against future attack.

The question is whether anything short of total surrender on the nuclear issue is acceptable to Trump, and whether he is willing to resist inevitable Israeli opposition to blurring this red line. If not, he has already threatened to resume bombing at a “much higher intensity” than before.

Yet there are serious doubts about whether he has the stomach for this. And even if he does, it is difficult to see how any amount of US and Israeli bombing can force the Iranian regime to surrender.

Trump’s shifting aims for the war and desperate scramble for an exit underscore that this entire enterprise has been a colossal strategic failure. It will define his legacy, reshape the Middle East and impose further misery on the Iranian people – the very opposite of what he has repeatedly said he wants to do.

The war has has shattered confidence among US regional allies that Washington can protect them. It has also alienated traditional US allies who were blamed and then punished for failing to solve a problem they neither created nor could resolve. The US and Israeli attacks have further entrenched a brutal regime that will now be even harder to negotiate with, while completely marginalising moderate voices inside Iran.

If negotiations can prevail, the successes the US president and his advisers trumpet – the destruction of parts of Iran’s military-industrial capacity and navy – are real. Though in the former case probably only temporary and in the latter, demonstrably not critical for maintaining freedom of navigation.

The only positive is that Trump’s brief experiment with military adventurism, an aberration even within his own muddled political trajectory, may now be ending.

Christian Emery 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. Trump administration claiming a ‘win’ against Iran – here’s a report card – https://theconversation.com/trump-administration-claiming-a-win-against-iran-heres-a-report-card-282294

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Anna Turns, Senior Environment Editor, The Conversation

We’re launching a new poetry award to bring science and creativity closer together. Too often, research can stay locked in academic language – but poetry offers a powerful way to make ideas felt, not just understood. This prize is for UK and Ireland-based researchers who want to explore the climate crisis through a different lens, blending insight with imagination to reach wider audiences and spark new conversations.

For this competition – the first of its kind for The Conversation – we are inviting academics to write a poem inspired by climate change research.

The climate crisis is also a communications challenge: how do we tell stories that move people, not just to fear the future, but to imagine and build a better one? That question sits at the heart of our climate storytelling series, and it’s what we want you to consider when writing your poem. The Conversation UK’s climate poetry award 2026 is all about bringing research to life in a different way.

Whether you’re an experienced poet or completely new to writing poetry, we want to hear your perspective on climate change. Your poem can draw on your own research, the work of others or your general field of expertise. Entrants to this competition must be enrolled in a research position at a university in the UK or Ireland. Poems must be minimum of three lines, maximum of 40 lines. No prior poetry experience is required.

The competition will kick off with a free introductory climate poetry workshop led by poet Professor Sam Illingworth of Edinburgh Napier University on May 13. Entries close on September 1 2026 (11.59pm BST).

The poems will be reviewed by a panel of judges: Senior Environment Editor Anna Turns, Senior Arts and Culture Editor Anna Walker and Professor Sam Illingworth. The winner will be selected from a shortlist by award-winning poet Professor Helen Mort, of Manchester Metropolitan University. Judges will be looking for creativity, a point of view and clarity of research communication.

Who can enter: UK and Ireland-based academics currently enrolled in a research position (including PhD candidates, postdoctoral scholars and lecturers).

What to submit: A climate-themed poem (3–40 lines) and a supporting statement of up to 250 words on the research that inspired it.

Entry window: Open for entries now until September 1 2026 (11.59pm BST).

How to enter: Via the official submission form.

Workshop: Free online climate poetry workshop on May 13 2026

Prizes: First prize: five-day stay at The Little Goat Barn Writing Retreat (North Wales). Shortlisted poems published in a The Conversation ebook anthology.

Judges: Anna Turns, Anna Walker, Professor Sam Illingworth

Final winner selected by: Professor Helen Mort

In need of inspiration? Check out some of our favourite climate poems.

The prizes

Shortlisted entries will be published in an ebook by The Conversation UK in the autumn.

The winner will be hosted for five days at the Little Goat Barn Writing Retreat, in the peaceful and beautiful countryside of the Vale of Conwy in North Wales courtesy of The Ruppin Agency. They’ll be welcomed and fully catered for by husband and wife Dr Emma Claire Sweeney, author and creative writing lecturer, and Jonathan Ruppin, former literary agent and bookseller.

While there, they will have access to the 5,000-volume library, full of places to read, write and relax, and housed in a 400-year-old converted barn vaulted with the timbers of an ancient ship – as well as space to write in their room if they prefer. As well as socialising with a small group of other writers, other activities such as hill walks, wild swimming and a film night will be on offer. See terms and conditions for full details.

The judges

Sam Illingworth is a full professor at Edinburgh Napier University, where his research and practise involve using poetry and generative AI to explore connections between science and society.

“This competition is a great way of exploring the different ways in which scientists can communicate their work outside of traditional academic publishing,” says Illingworth. “Poetry is, in my opinion, an extremely effective way of developing empathy for a subject. I hope that in writing and reading poems about the climate crisis, researchers can better understand the impact that their work is having on different audiences.”

Helen Mort is a professor of creative writing at Manchester Metropolitan University and a fellow of the Royal Society of Literature.
She has published four poetry collections with Chatto & Windus and her work has won awards in the UK and Canada.

In 2024, she wrote a poetry collection called Field Notes during a research expedition to Greenland with climate scientists from Manchester Met University. These poems explored the emotional and sensory effects of the changing landscape they experienced while investigating climate change.

Enter your poem here

Terms & Conditions 2026 – please read carefully.

Many thanks to our sponsor for this competition, Little Goat Barn Writing Retreat.

– ref. Introducing The Conversation Climate Poetry Award – for UK and Ireland-based academics – https://theconversation.com/introducing-the-conversation-climate-poetry-award-for-uk-and-ireland-based-academics-281591

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Michael Parker, Director of Operations, The Conversation

Jeremy Howick, Professor of Empathic Healthcare and Director of the Stoneygate Centre at the University of Leicester has been named this year’s winner of the Professor Sir Paul Curran Award for Excellence in Academic Journalism.

The prize is awarded annually to an academic who has shown exceptional skill, dedication and engagement in communicating their knowledge to readers through their contributions for The Conversation.

Jeremy has written 26 articles that have garnered 775,000 pageviews since the first piece in 2016, including translations into French and Portuguese. His articles have looked at placebos, the effects of empathy and empathic treatment by clinicians, and medical safety, among others.

Presented this year by Lady Helen Curran in Sir Paul’s absence, we were delighted to welcome around 80 authors who had written for The Conversation in 2025 to join us at Bayes Business School, City St George’s, University of London, for drinks and the opportunity to meet the editors they work with and colleagues from across the sector.

Jeremy said: “It is a great honour to win this prestigious award. Thank you to The Conversation for the wonderful work they do, to my editor Clint Witchalls and to Stephen Khan for your help over the years.

“I have written for The Conversation for 10 years, and it has been an important part of my life’s work. I have always viewed public communication as a duty. My research as an academic has been funded by the MRC, NIHR, and other public bodies, meaning that the taxpayer has often paid my bills. The Conversation gives me a forum through which I can explain my research to the public.

“But also I’ve always been motivated to change practice. You can do that by becoming a politician or policymaker, but I’m not patient enough for that. The other way is to inform the public to create a groundswell for change. At the Stoneygate Centre for Empathic Healthcare in Leicester, and before that at the Oxford Empathy Programme, I’ve attempted to do just that by working to ensure that all healthcare consultations include a dose of empathy. The evidence is starting to show that we are succeeding at making a real difference, and The Conversation has contributed to that real-life impact. So thank you once again for this amazing award. I’m humbled and honoured.”

Senior Health Editor Clint Witchalls said: “I remember Jeremy’s first piece: Why doing good can do you good, about how doing good things for others doesn’t just feel nice but can actually make you healthier. Studies showed that volunteers have lower stress levels, healthier hearts, and even a brain that rewards them with feel-good chemicals for being kind. At the time Jeremy was at the University of Oxford and focused on researching the placebo and nocebo effects, which he has also written about for us. I can highly recommend Jeremy’s book: The Power of Placebos.”

Commendations

Highly Commended for his work was archaeology researcher Stephan Blum, from the University of Tübingen in Germany. Perhaps understandably he was not able to attend on the day, but his certificate is winging its way eastward.

Senior Arts Editor Anna Walker said: “Not only is Stephan a delight to work with, but he instinctively understands what The Conversation needs. His ability to connect the ancient world to contemporary concerns is a defining strength of his writing. Whether exploring environmental pressures behind the fall of Troy or reassessing long-held assumptions about early trade and wine production, he shows how the distant past can illuminate present-day issues, presenting history not as something static or remote but as a dynamic field that continues to shape how we understand the world today.”

Responding to the award, Stephan wrote: “Writing for The Conversation has been a tremendously rewarding experience, and I truly appreciate the opportunity to contribute. It means a great deal to see the work recognised in this way.”

Commended for their work on the thorny topic of climate finance were Meilan Yan of Loughborough University and Narmin Nahidi of the University of Exeter (who was also not able to attend).

Senior environment editor Anna Turns said: “I first worked with Meilan in May 2025 when compiling a user-friendly guide to climate finance – a notoriously complex and abstract topic. Climate risk is one of Meilan’s biggest worries and this is very much something that gets overlooked among a chaotic landscape of geopolitical unrest. Her pieces bridge the gap between climate science and financial risk in tangible and relatable ways.

“Narmin Nahidi, who we also discovered through working on the glossary of climate finance, explained many terms for us and has since tuned in to pitching timely and topical stories, is always been keen to collaborate on edits and a pleasure to work with.

Editor-in-Chief Stephen Khan thanked Lady Curran: “Professor Sir Paul’s ongoing commitment to The Conversation is greatly appreciated and we were delighted Lady Curran was able to meet the authors shortlisted this year and make the presentations.

“We’ve had thousands of fantastic articles and podcast contributions from across the academy over the past 12 months, taking expert knowledge to millions of people from all walks of life around the world.

“These authors authors showed a particular ability to make complex research accessible, engaging and genuinely useful. Jeremy Howick’s writing exemplifies the very best of The Conversation’s mission: rigorous evidence communicated with clarity, warmth and public purpose.”

As ever, a huge thank you to Jeremy, Stephan, Meilan and Narmin for their work with The Conversation over the years, and to all our authors – without whose efforts there would be no conversation.

– ref. The 2025 Sir Paul Curran award for academic journalism goes to Jeremy Howick – https://theconversation.com/the-2025-sir-paul-curran-award-for-academic-journalism-goes-to-jeremy-howick-282413

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Rachel Harding, Research Fellow in Social Sciences, Nottingham Trent University

Ofsted, the schools inspectorate in England, was the subject of a UK parliamentary inquiry after the death by suicide of Ruth Perry, headteacher of Caversham Primary school in Berkshire, in 2023. The coroner’s report had concluded that Perry’s death was “suicide, contributed to by an Ofsted inspection”.

The parliamentary inquiry called for submissions of evidence about Ofsted from members of the public. Our recent research has analysed the 233 published submissions, many of which were from teachers. One submission to the inquiry included an impact statement by a headteacher written in 2022. It read:

The manner in which the inspection was conducted and the lack of integrity from the Lead Inspector has meant that my family have had to support me through suicidal thoughts and through countless occasions of being in floods of tears as soon as I think back to that day.

“It seems incredible that an issue like the conduct of school inspection should be a life-and-death matter, but so indeed it has become,” the submission from her school stated.

Theory of suicide

Sociological theory helps us ask questions and seek radical answers about how societies function, including government policy such as the inspection of schools.

Sociologist Émile Durkheim’s theory of suicide argues that suicide does not only happen because of mental illness, but that it also has a social context. Durkheim examined how the interaction of people and social control, as well as notions of shame, guilt, failing expectations and feeling trapped, might result in someone having suicidal thoughts and feelings.

We found evidence of teachers feeling shame. One submission mentioned “the enormous shame and distress that is felt by those leading and working within the school”.

Teachers also reported feeling trapped:

In my last inspection in November 2019, I lost half a stone in the three days (starting from the phone call) and lost my voice. My family suffered, there were arguments and I slept on the couch. The stress and pressure was all too much. As a school leader, I live in fear and I came into education because I love teaching but now I feel trapped.

The risk of a less than good inspection was “petrifying”. Having to be always ready for an inspection was “intolerable”. The thought of letting colleagues down by making a mistake was “unbearable”.

Teachers wrote about ill health because of Ofsted experiences. These accounts included vomiting, physical collapse, panic attacks, incontinence and suspected stroke with a temporary loss of speech. One wrote that they had a miscarriage the day after a deeply stressful Ofsted inspection.

The government and Ofsted’s response

The Education Committee’s report noted that the committee had heard that “Ofsted has lost trust and credibility among many in the teaching profession.”

However, a number of reports on Ofsted’s practice, including the independent learning review commissioned by Ofsted, fail to acknowledge that teachers can have suicidal thoughts and feelings because of Ofsted.

Ofsted’s developments since the inquiry include introducing report cards for schools. Ofsted says this is fairer, but teachers say it creates more stress. An independent risk assessment warns that “the revised framework does not reduce the pressure on leaders to achieve a desirable outcome. The consequence of not meeting the expected standards of the revised framework will remain high stakes in nature.”

Other developments include changes regarding inspections of provision for children in care and inspection frameworks themselves.

But we do not believe that these changes constitute the “root and branch” review of Ofsted previously called for by education leaders.

Professor Julia Waters, Ruth Perry’s sister, has said that our study “presents the evidence of the terrible human cost posed by Ofsted inspections, evidence that Ofsted and successive governments have still not fully grasped”.

Both Ofsted and the government should review how the inspectorate works. Not to do so runs the risk of school inspections remaining a life-and-death matter.

If you’re struggling with suicidal thoughts, the following services can provide you with support:
In the UK and Ireland – call Samaritans UK at 116 123.
In the US – call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or IMAlive at 1-800-784-2433.
In Australia – call Lifeline Australia at 13 11 14.
In other countries – visit IASP or Suicide.org to find a helpline in your country.

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. ‘A life-and-death matter’: understanding how Ofsted inspections risk suicidal thoughts in teachers – https://theconversation.com/a-life-and-death-matter-understanding-how-ofsted-inspections-risk-suicidal-thoughts-in-teachers-278478