How Canada can support rural regions in its net-zero transition

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Tamara Krawchenko, Associate Professor, School of Public Administration, University of Victoria

As Canada advances toward its 2050 net-zero emissions target, it’s facing a fundamental challenge: ensuring all parts of the country can participate in and benefit from the transition to a clean economy.

Canada’s regional economies are diverse, spanning Alberta’s oilsands, Québec’s hydroelectric systems, northern mining operations and urban tech hubs. These differences mean that net-zero transitions will manifest differently, creating opportunities for some regions and vulnerabilities for others.

Rural and remote regions accounted for 52 per cent of Canada’s total greenhouse gas emissions in 2022 alone, and these regions in particular face complex transition dynamics. These regions host oil, gas, coal and mining industries that power Canada’s economic development.

An equitable net-zero transition requires promoting regional competitiveness while ensuring no place is left behind; in other words, cohesion. Successful sustainability transitions demand both innovation-driven growth strategies and support for regions facing economic disruption.

Canada needs to ensure a net-zero transition translates into broadly shared prosperity rather than exacerbated regional inequalities. Doing so can help rectify the historical pattern of resource extraction that has not always benefited local communities.

Challenges faced by rural and remote regions

Rural and remote communities are typically less economically diverse than urban centres. They are often built around one or more dominant industries and have smaller labour markets with fewer specialists. They also have limited access to the financial and human capital necessary for transitioning to net-zero.

Energy transitions can create new industries and transform existing ones to be cleaner. They can replace old industries with new ones and diversify the economy. However, they can also phase out industries in areas where there aren’t enough replacement options. Communities that depend on a single industry are often hit the hardest by these changes.

Canada’s transition policies are rightly focused on regional competitiveness and innovation through, for example, the Regional Economic Growth through Innovation and the Global Innovation Clusters programs. However, they often fail to proactively support the rural, remote and resource-dependent regions and communities most vulnerable to the disruptions of transitions.

This results in reactive policies and programs that are often deployed only after economic shocks. They rarely target the most at-risk groups and governance frameworks lack clear mechanisms for co-ordinated action, accountability and consideration of Indigenous rights and local well-being.

European precedents

The European Union’s 55 billion euro Just Transition Mechanism provides valuable insights for Canadian policymakers. The EU initiative combines both competitiveness and compensation strategies within a comprehensive development model.

The mechanism integrates investment schemes that promote innovation in clean technologies with targeted support for the regions most vulnerable to job losses and economic downturns. Each EU member state develops just transition plans identifying specific regions and industries requiring support, alongside dedicated investment programs tailored to local economic conditions.

This approach recognizes that effective sustainability transitions require incentives for innovation and protections for disrupted communities.

In addition, the EU’s Just Transition Fund specifically targets regions that are socially, economically and environmentally most vulnerable to transition impacts, while simultaneously encouraging investments in emerging sectors critical for reaching net-zero.

Canadian regional development approaches have historically emphasized competitiveness and innovation, with transition management remaining largely reactive rather than proactive.

An exception is the Canada Coal Transition Initiative, which provided flexible, locally tailored approaches and co-ordinated support across federal, provincial and local levels. That approach is essential for sustainable and equitable transition outcomes in diverse regions.

But Canada has generally been reluctant to explicitly identify and designate regions most at-risk from net-zero transitions. This hesitancy may leave vulnerable communities without targeted support.

Institutional capacity and governance challenges

The effectiveness of both competitiveness and cohesion strategies depends on a region’s institutional capacity and governance. On this point, rural and remote regions are often at a disadvantage. They have smaller administrations, fewer resources and limited capacity to manage complex transitions.

The Canadian government’s Regional Energy and Resource Tables offer a new collaborative approach to help bridge these gaps by bringing federal, provincial, territorial and Indigenous partners together.

The tables aim to co-ordinate expertise, resources and partnerships to identify economic priorities and build the capacity to pursue low-carbon growth opportunities. Ten tables are presently underway. This will be an important initiative to watch and evaluate.

Other collaborations can also facilitate peer learning and shared problem-solving. For example, Yukon University’s Northern Energy Innovation group partners with First Nations and utility companies to provide place-based solutions and facilitate knowledge networks. The challenge here lies in connecting these local strengths with external resources and expertise and to expand them as needed.

Sustainable transitions

As Canada encourages new economic activities essential for net-zero transitions, such as critical minerals development, it’s crucial that past inequalities are not reproduced, particularly regarding Indigenous rights holders on territories where these projects are operating.

Canadian governments have substantial room for improvement in this regard, as a lot of rural policy in Cananda continues to treat these regions as sites of resource extraction detached from broader development strategies.

The stakes of this transition are considerable. Managed effectively, net-zero transitions can put Canada on a path to sustainable and inclusive growth. Managed poorly, they risk deepening territorial divisions and creating new patterns of regional disadvantage.

The policies adopted today will determine which of these futures emerge, making the integration of competitiveness and cohesion approaches not merely desirable but essential for Canadian prosperity and social cohesion in the decades ahead.

The Conversation

Tamara Krawchenko received funding for this research from the Centre for Net-Zero Industrial Policy. She is an expert panelist with the Canadian Climate Institute, a Visiting Scholar with the Institute for Research on Public Policy, and a Board member for Ecotrust Canada.

ref. How Canada can support rural regions in its net-zero transition – https://theconversation.com/how-canada-can-support-rural-regions-in-its-net-zero-transition-264747

How changes in autism diagnosis help explain the rise in cases – podcast

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Gemma Ware, Host, The Conversation Weekly Podcast, The Conversation

Ricardo Espinoza L/Shutterstock

When Donald Trump gave a press conference in late September urging pregnant women to avoid taking paracetamol unless medically necessary because of a possible link to autism, the reaction from the scientific community was swift and loud.

There is no scientific evidence that paracetamol – commonly sold as Tylenol in the US – causes autism. Instead, decades of research points to a complex interplay of genetic and environmental factors that may increase the risk for autism, although no one gene for autism has been identified.

Trump’s finger-pointing at paracetamol was part of a push by his health secretary, Robert F Kennedy Jr to explain a sharp rise in the number of autism cases in recent decades that he’s labelled an “epidemic”.

Yet, as American politicians give oxygen to unproven theories about what might be behind the rise, experts repeatedly point to the changing nature of how autism is diagnosed and viewed.

A key moment in the history of autism diagnosis was the publication in 1994 of a new version of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders IV (DSM). The DSM, published by the American Psychiatric Association, is a reference book of psychiatric conditions and how to diagnose them. It’s based on the latest science and is used by psychiatrists and psychologists around the world.

In this episode of The Conversation Weekly podcast, we speak to Andrew Whitehouse, a professor of autism research at the University of Western Australia, about why this shift in autism diagnosis happened in the 1990s, what impact it had, and what it’s meant for the support autistic people get.

 When I started in the field in 1998-9, we diagnosed about one in every 2,000 children. That was pretty much the same in every anglo-western country … Nowadays, in Australia we’re seeing diagnosis of one in every 40 children. That’s an extraordinary increase.

Listen to the conversation with Andrew Whitehouse on The Conversation Weekly podcast.

This episode of The Conversation Weekly was written and produced by Katie Flood, Mend Mariwany and Gemma Ware. Mixing and sound design by Michelle Macklem and theme music by Neeta Sarl.

Newsclips in this episode from NBC News, NBC Montana and Rain Man.

Listen to The Conversation Weekly via any of the apps listed above, download it directly via our RSS feed or find out how else to listen here. A transcript of this episode is available on Apple Podcasts or Spotify.

The Conversation

Andrew is a Director on the Board of Autism Awareness Australia.

ref. How changes in autism diagnosis help explain the rise in cases – podcast – https://theconversation.com/how-changes-in-autism-diagnosis-help-explain-the-rise-in-cases-podcast-266430

The American TikTok deal doesn’t address the platform’s potential for manipulation, only who profits

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Andrew Buzzell, Postdoctoral Fellow, Rotman Institute of Philosophy, Western University

On Sept. 25, the Donald Trump administration in the United States again extended the TikTok ban-or-divest law, possibly for the last time. The latest extension to the law, which was passed in 2024 by the Joe Biden administration, includes a deal to transfer TikTok to American owners as a condition required to avoid a ban.

This raises the question on the validity of the warnings about the app as a tool of Chinese influence and whether American ownership will help.

Canada should be watching closely, because anxieties about foreign manipulation and social media exist north of the border, too. These range from bans on TikTok and concerns about Beijing-linked surveillance to efforts like Bill C-18 aimed at safeguarding domestic news sources.




Read more:
Concerns over TikTok feeding user data to Beijing are back – and there’s good evidence to support them


What happens in the Canadian information environment has always been shaped by the U.S., a dependence that is even more precarious now that American politics has turned hostile to Canada.

ABC News covers the executive order that brought into effect U.S. ownership of TikTok.

TikTok concerns

TikTok is not the only digital media platform susceptible to worries about hostile influence. All major platforms introduce the same vulnerabilities. If the policy objective is to enhance the security of democracy, then a focus on TikTok is too narrow and divestment as a solution accomplishes little (especially because it appears China will retain control of the algorithm).

Worries about TikTok come down to two big fears. The first is that it functions as a spying machine, feeding data to the Chinese government. The spying concern isn’t just about espionage, learning about sensitive infrastructure and activities, but also personal — the software itself might be unsafe and can be used to track individuals.




Read more:
Canada’s decision to ban TikTok from government devices is bad news for the NDP’s election strategy


As a result, many countries have banned the app on government devices, and securing data along national borders may well address this.

The second fear, more vivid in the public and political imagination, is that TikTok functions as an influence machine. Its algorithm can be tweaked to push propaganda, sway opinion, censor views or even meddle in elections.

Such worries reached a fever pitch in America in 2023, when Osama bin Laden’s “Letter to America” suddenly went viral on TikTok. Lawmakers seized on this as evidence that TikTok could amplify extremist content, reinforcing fears that the platform can be weaponized.

These worries aren’t merely speculative. Investigations have shown that topics sensitive to China, such as Tiananmen Square and Tibet, are harder to find or conspicuously absent on TikTok compared to other platforms.

Social media is also used as a tool for influence by hostile groups, corporations and governments, and concerns about ownership are often a proxy for deeper anxieties about the platforms themselves.

As users, we know little about how our feeds work, what’s shaping them, what they might look if they were built differently and how they are affecting us.

There is a rational basis to be mistrustful, and this cuts both ways. It’s not just the fear that we could be manipulated without realizing it; it’s also the temptation to see our opponents as manipulated, too, as if every disagreement might be product of someone rigging the system.

a screen showing app icons, including TikTok's
Users know little about how TikTok feeds work, what’s shaping them or what they might look if they were built differently.
(Solen Feyissa/Unsplash), CC BY

Manipulated anxieties

Fear of TikTok as an influence machine continues to play a substantial role in politics, as “Washington has said that TikTok’s ownership by ByteDance makes it beholden to the Chinese government.”

U.S. Vice President JD Vance remarked that the executive order would “ensure that the algorithm is not being used as a propaganda tool by a foreign government… the American businesspeople … will make the determination about what’s actually happening with TikTok.”

Meanwhile, Trump ostensibly joked that he’d make TikTok “100 per cent MAGA” before adding “everyone’s going to be treated fairly.” And Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu told an audience of content creators that “weapons change over time… the most important one is social media,” stressing the importance of divestment of TikTok to U.S. owners.

One implication of these comments is that divestment doesn’t change the threat of manipulation — it just changes who’s doing the manipulating. Divestment is framed as resisting foreign propaganda, but at the same time domestic manipulation is legitimized as politics as usual.

Collective dependence

This is a squandered opportunity for the U.S. By treating TikTok as a weapon to be seized, leaders have passed up the chance to model a more enduring form of soft power: building open, transparent, trustworthy information systems that others would want to emulate. Instead, what is gained is a temporary and possibly illusory sharp power advantage, at the expense of an enduring source of legitimacy.

The bigger problem is that the normalization of social media as a weapon is, to borrow a fear familiar to Trump, riggable. We know that social media can be manipulated, and yet we rely on it more and more as a source of news. And even if we ourselves don’t, we are influenced indirectly by those who do.

This collective dependence makes the platforms more powerful and their vulnerabilities more dangerous.

a row of people on public transit holding cellphones
Social media platforms have become a primary source of information.
(Shawn/Unsplash), CC BY

Protecting the public sphere

Canada has already had its own TikTok moment: the Online News Act (C-18), which required platforms to pay news outlets for sharing their content. This was intended to strengthen Canadian journalism, but in response, Meta banned news on its platforms (Facebook, Instagram) in Canada in August 2023, leading to an 85 per cent drop in engagement. Instead of strengthening Canadian journalism, Bill C-18 risks making it more fragile.

If we’re serious about protecting the public sphere from manipulation, what matters is the outsized power the platforms have, and the extent to which that power can be bought, sold or stolen. This power includes the surveillance power to know what we will like, the algorithmic power to curate our information diet and control of platform incentives, rules and features that affect who gains influence.

Bargaining with this power, as Canada tried with Bill C-18 — and as the U.S. is now doing with China and TikTok — only concedes to it. If we want to protect democratic information systems, we need to focus on reducing the vulnerabilities in our relationship with media platforms and support domestic journalism that can compete for influence.

The biggest challenge is to make platforms less riggable, and thus less weaponizable, if only for the reason that motivated the TikTok ban: we don’t want our adversaries, foreign or domestic, to have power over us.

The Conversation

Andrew Buzzell 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 American TikTok deal doesn’t address the platform’s potential for manipulation, only who profits – https://theconversation.com/the-american-tiktok-deal-doesnt-address-the-platforms-potential-for-manipulation-only-who-profits-266441

Five herbs and spices that could help improve your digestion

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Dipa Kamdar, Senior Lecturer in Pharmacy Practice, Kingston University

Beatriz Vera/Shutterstock

Digestive discomfort – whether it’s bloating after a heavy meal or the occasional bout of indigestion – can make anyone miserable.

While modern medicine offers effective treatments, there’s renewed interest in natural ways to support gut health. For centuries, herbs and spices have been used in traditional medicine for their digestive benefits, and modern science is beginning to back up some of these age-old remedies.

These five herbs and spices have been linked to better digestion. Here’s what the evidence shows

1. Peppermint

Peppermint (Mentha piperita) is one of the best-known herbs for easing digestive distress. Its active compound, menthol, relaxes the muscles of the gut, helping to reduce bloating, gas and abdominal pain. It may also reduce sensitivity to pain, fight harmful bacteria and calm inflammation.

Clinical trials show that peppermint oil capsules can relieve irritable bowel syndrome (IBS) symptoms. Peppermint oil may not suit people with acid reflux, because it can relax the lower oesophageal sphincter – the muscle that stops stomach acid flowing back into the throat – potentially triggering heartburn, particularly on an empty stomach. Peppermint tea is gentler and may offer similar benefits.

2. Chamomile

Chamomile (Matricaria chamomilla) is famous for its calming effects and may also soothe the digestive system. Chamomile tea is one of the world’s most popular herbal drinks – about a million cups are consumed each day – and has long been used to ease indigestion, gas, stomach upset and gut irritation.

Evidence is mostly traditional, but animal studies show chamomile extract can reduce stomach ulcers thanks to its antioxidant properties. Chamomile may also help children: in one study, 57% of infants given a chamomile-based tea had relief from colic within a week, compared with 26% in the placebo group. Another trial found that children with mild diarrhoea recovered more quickly when treated with a chamomile mixture. (These studies combined chamomile with other herbs.)

Chamomile is generally safe, but a few people may be allergic to it.

3. Carom Seeds (Ajwain)

Carom seeds (Trachyspermum ammi), or ajwain, are staples in Indian cooking and Ayurvedic medicine. They’ve been used for centuries to relieve gas and bloating, probably because of thymol, a compound that stimulates the stomach to produce more acid — sometimes up to four times more.

In animal studies, carom seeds increased the speed at which food moved through the digestive tract, boosted digestive enzyme activity and increased bile secretion, which helps break down fats. Research also shows antispasmodic effects, relaxing gut muscles by blocking receptors that normally trigger contractions. Human data is limited, but culinary use is considered safe.

Pregnant or breastfeeding women should avoid large doses, as high intakes have been linked to miscarriages.

4. Fennel

Fennel (Foeniculum vulgare) is traditionally chewed after meals in many cultures to freshen breath and aid digestion. Its seeds are high in insoluble fibre, which helps prevent gas build-up and bloating. The NHS recommends about 30g of fibre a day.

Anethole, fennel’s main active compound, is chemically similar to dopamine and relaxes gut muscles – a mechanism confirmed in lab studies. In a small trial in people with IBS, fennel reduced cramp-like abdominal pain, probably due to this muscle-relaxing effect. Fennel water, mixed with sodium bicarbonate and syrup to make gripe water, has long been used to ease infant gas and bloating. Human trials are limited, but fennel’s long history of safe use supports its traditional role in digestive care.

5. Cumin

Cumin (Cuminum cyminum) has an equally long track record for easing digestive problems. Modern studies suggest it boosts digestive enzyme activity, speeding the breakdown of food. It also encourages the release of bile from the liver, which helps digest fats and absorb nutrients.

One study conducted using rats found cumin shortened the time food spent in the digestive tract by about 25%, likely due to these enzyme and bile effects. In a clinical trial of 57 people with IBS, concentrated cumin significantly eased symptoms within two weeks.

Herbs and spices are not a replacement for medical treatment, but they can complement a balanced diet and offer gentle support for everyday digestive issues. In normal amounts they are generally safe to cook with, but anyone with underlying conditions or on medication should consult a healthcare professional first. For many, though, a cup of chamomile tea or a sprinkle of cumin may be a simple – and tasty – step toward better digestive health.

The Conversation

Dipa Kamdar 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. Five herbs and spices that could help improve your digestion – https://theconversation.com/five-herbs-and-spices-that-could-help-improve-your-digestion-262768

How Paraguay became a bastion of conservatism in Latin America

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Andrew Nickson, Honorary Reader in the Department of International Development, University of Birmingham

Paraguay hosted the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC), a gathering of the global right, for the first time in mid-September. In attendance were members of US president Donald Trump’s inner circle, including his long-term foreign policy advisor Richard Grenell, and President Javier Milei of Argentina.

The Paraguayan president, Santiago Peña, gave a keynote address confirming the growing identification of his Colorado party administration with the global ultra-conservative movement. He emphasised that he would defend before the world his opposition to “free abortion”, “alternative ideas of the family” and “radical social experiments”.

Paraguay is the Latin American country most strongly aligned with the foreign policy of the Trump administration. It is one of only 12 countries in the world, and the only one in South America, to maintain diplomatic relations with Taiwan. And in December 2024 it moved its embassy in Israel to Jerusalem, which Trump officially recognised as the Israeli capital in 2017 to much international criticism.

In UN General Assembly votes in June and September respectively, Paraguay joined just ten countries in voting with the US and Israel against a ceasefire in Gaza. It also voted against a two-state solution to the Israel-Palestine conflict.

Then, alongside the US, Israel, Nauru and Palau, it voted against the decision to allow Palestinian Authority leader, Mahmoud Abbas, to address the recent 80th session of the General Assembly by video link after the Trump administration refused visas for Palestinian officials to enter the US.

The US has also signed an agreement with Paraguay to outsource some of its asylum claims. The Safe Third Country Agreement will allow asylum seekers already in the US to have their claims processed in Paraguay. The details remain vague. It is unclear who will cover the costs and whether Paraguay will be obliged to host immigrants indefinitely if a visa application is refused.

And the US has announced a new joint anti-terrorism base in the Paraguayan capital, Asunción, with an operational arm in Ciudad del Este, a city on the Brazilian border. The aim is to combat international terrorism, organised crime and money laundering.

This identification with Trump’s foreign policy has been accompanied by growing links to extreme right-wing political movements in the Americas and Europe. In June, Paraguay hosted the fourth annual meeting of the Foro de Madrid, an international grouping linked to Vox, the hardline right-wing political party in Spain. Vox leader, Santiago Abascal, attended the meeting and called the Paraguayan government “a great ally”.

The Paraguayan government’s posture is spearheaded by two key figures in the Colorado party – Raúl Latorre, president of the lower house of Congress, and Gustavo Leite, the recently appointed Paraguayan ambassador to the US. Both men are possible candidates to replace Peña in the presidency in 2028.

Vehemently opposed to feminism, abortion and gay marriage, they repeatedly stress that Paraguay is an “island of conservatism”. They are also opposed to what they see as subversive foreign NGOs that enter the country under the cover of development cooperation.

In January, Latorre attended a Brussels meeting of Patriots for Europe, an extreme right grouping of European Parliament members. The following month, he spoke at a CPAC in Washington attended by Trump. And at a CPAC in Budapest several months later, Latorre and Leite condemned the UN Sustainable Development Goals, the EU and “globalists” such as Bill Gates and George Soros.

In his formal credentials ceremony in the White House on September 5, Leite posed with Trump wearing a “Make America Great Again” cap. In an effort to curry favour with the US president, he expressed his determination to halt what he called illegal efforts by China to reverse the current diplomatic recognition of Taiwan by funding opposition politicians in Paraguay.

Conservative political tradition

Paraguay’s longstanding right-wing political tradition has facilitated this political alignment. In 1887, German colonists established a colony at Nueva Germania in the north of Paraguay. The colony was inspired by the ideals of an Aryan master race.

The first Latin American branch of the German National Socialist party, known as the Nazi party, was also founded in Paraguay in 1929. And by 1939 Nazi swastikas and portraits of Adolf Hitler were prominently displayed in German schools and businesses in Asunción and the Mennonite colonies of western Paraguay’s remote Chaco region.

During the second world war, the Frente de Guerra faction of pro-fascist military and police officers exercised a strong influence over the Paraguayan government in alliance with the extreme conservative Tiempista lay movement inside the Catholic Church.

This extremist tradition was strengthened during the brutal rule of Alfredo Stroessner, son of a German immigrant, from 1954 to 1989. His regime was a staunch ally of apartheid South Africa and also became a haven for Nazis fleeing Europe. They were attracted by Stroessner’s virulent anti-communism and protected by a long-established tradition of German immigration.

These people included Josef Mengele, the infamous Nazi doctor at the Auschwitz concentration camp, who was granted Paraguayan citizenship in 1959 in his own name. Several thousand lesser known figures in the SS paramilitary organisation and Gestapo secret police migrated to Paraguay’s Mennonite colonies and German communities.

The Colorado party, through which Stroessner ruled the country, continues to dominate the political arena and pays lip service to his memory.

There is also a more prosaic reason for Paraguay’s alignment with Trump. In July 2022, during the presidency of Joe Biden, the US State Department declared former Paraguayan president Horacio Cartes (2013-2018) “a significantly corrupt person”. It cited his alleged ties to international crime, money laundering and links to international terrorism.

Cartes is the richest person in Paraguay. He bankrolls the Colorado party and handpicked Peña to do his bidding in the presidency. The US tightened sanctions against his sprawling business empire in August 2024, forcing him to divest ownership of Tabacalera del Este. Known as Tabesa, the company has routinely been accused of smuggling cigarettes throughout the Americas.

Since Trump returned to power in January 2025, Cartes has been doing everything to curry favour with the US administration in order to get the sanctions removed. So far, he has been unsuccessful.

The Conversation

Andrew Nickson 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 Paraguay became a bastion of conservatism in Latin America – https://theconversation.com/how-paraguay-became-a-bastion-of-conservatism-in-latin-america-266027

The other space race: why the world is obsessed with sending objects into orbit

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Tony Milligan, Teaching Associate, University of Sheffield

Elon Musk’s Tesla Roadster, with Earth in background. wikipedia, CC BY-SA

Beyond the race for scientific, commercial and military purposes, there is another space race of a more curious sort. A race to be the first to send various objects up there. But why?

In December 2024, Buddhist monks from Japan attempted unsuccessfully to send a small temple on board a satellite into orbit. The rocket did make it more than 110km from Earth, making it the first time the Dainichi Nyorai (the Buddha of the Cosmos) and the mandala were transported into outer space. The monks hope to try again in the future.

The space temple is only about the size of a medium Amazon delivery box, and covered in protective gold tinted foil. Buddha sits in a special compartment on top. The idea is that, with a growing number of Japanese people living outside of Japan, prayers for departed loved ones could be beamed up to the Buddha as he passes overhead.

Being the first matters. Humans appear to have an innate preference for being first, even being more likely to pick the first options in a list. It is tempting to explain this by appeal to what the Austrian medical doctor Alfred Adler called the “inferiority complex” – a need to keep proving ourselves.

Yet it may simply be an evolutionary trait of a sort which was genuinely useful in the past but has spilled over into more curious modern preferences, such as expecting more of a first born child or voting for the first candidate on the list.

What’s more, through what the biologist Ernst Mayr called the “founder effect”, first movers exercise a disproportionate influence on what happens later on.

Mayr’s original idea was about population genetics and how founders of a population of organisms can restrict later diversity. But the idea has since been applied more broadly to explain why those who arrive or act first tend to have a disproportionate influence on later agents.

Seen in that light, it makes perfect sense that people want to be the first to send something into space. But the choice of objects sent is not always so obvious. Or rather, there is a sliding scale that runs from understandable to downright odd.

Immortality, nostalgia and aliens

At the understandable end of the scale, we have the remains of humans, pets and even dinosaurs. Not large pieces, just bits of hair or ashes.

A company called Celestis has been sending ashes and DNA into space since 1994. In 1997, it sent the fragmentary cremated remains of 24 people, including Star Trek creator Gene Roddenbery, on what was called the “Founders Flight”. It was the first memorial flight into space.

Five years later, the remains unintentionally de-orbited. Yet even with this accidental burn-up, relatives may feel that their loved ones have achieved an immortality of sorts. After all, they were the first.

Something similar applies to pets. A failed launch in January 2024 included more of Gene Roddenberry and partial remains of a dog called Indica-Noodle Fabiano.

Memorialising the dead in space is particularly popular. Even the Apollo 15 mission left a fallen astronauts memorial plaque at Hadley Rille on the Moon in 1971.

Similarly, we have, on several occasions, sent dinosaur bones temporarily into orbit. Inclusion of a T.rex fragment on a 2014 NASA Orion flight was justified “as a reminder of how much life Earth had seen during its existence”.

This reveals a deeper, more emotional reason for why we want to send stuff to space. Coupled with the quest of being first, such items can be proxies for immortality.

They can also be born out of nostalgia. Why else would we want past life on Earth to leave a continuing trace?

Other items are harder to understand. In December, a company called beingAI is planning on having a nickel disk delivered to the Moon. The disk will be imprinted with a digital image of a trainee AI Buddhist priest called Emi Jido.

There aren’t just Buddhist messages in space. For example, the Russian segment of the International Space Station contains all manner of Orthodox religious iconography

But what’s the point of having religious messages in space when there’s no-one there to read them? This reveals yet another intention: we hope that eventually a message will travel far enough to reach another life form.

Making a mark

Similarly, there is little obvious sense in the transmission of Poetica Vaginal, a weak signal of converted vaginal contractions transmitted in the direction of the Eridanis constellation by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in 1986. The US Air Force, which was in control of the ground facility, quickly intervened before a stronger transmission could be sent.

And it is frankly odd that an invitation to a performance of Klingon opera was sent to Arcturus in the Boötes constellation in 2010, with the invitation written in Klingon (a fictional language from Star Trek). Rather than a representative message from our culture, this came close to cosmic misinformation.

In the best-known case of strange objects sent to space, Elon Musk launched his cherry-red Tesla Roadster sports car in 2018, complete with a mannequin in the driver’s seat, and David Bowie’s Space Oddity blaring on the car radio. Currently, it is around 248 million km from Earth.

These things may reveal yet another reason for why we send stuff to space that is less about immortality, nostalgia, communicating with aliens, or being first. Objects which appear pointless in their own right are still a statement of intent. It is like someone putting a towel on a deckchair that you are not ready to use, but will return to later.

Space infrastructure will ultimately depend on mining the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter. And the orbit of Musk’s Roadster crosses and recrosses the orbit of Mars as it travels around the Sun.

Indeed, we know that the Moon, Mars and some little distance beyond could be important parts of humanity’s near future. Not just for science, commerce and military applications, but also for our civilisation as a whole.

We haven’t quite figured out what we are going to do with all of this space, and how we will eventually fill it with our humanity. The curious objects that we send can also be seen as a statement of intent to use the locations where they end up, even if the use remains unspecified.

The Conversation

Tony Milligan received funding from the European Research Council (ERC) under the European Union’s Horizon 2020 research and innovation programme (Grant agreement No. 856543).

ref. The other space race: why the world is obsessed with sending objects into orbit – https://theconversation.com/the-other-space-race-why-the-world-is-obsessed-with-sending-objects-into-orbit-265264

The spiritual and emotional world of pub psychic nights

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Josh Bullock, Senior Lecturer Criminology and Social Sciences, Kingston University

Breanna P/Shutterstock

At a Bristol social club, a psychic medium scans the room, inviting the spirit world into a space more often used for drinking and darts. The medium is talking to a small audience, mostly women.

She says she is giving them messages from their loved ones who have died. She says she is mentally communicating with a very young child in the spirit world. A teenager raises her hand – “Could it be my baby? I lost a baby last year” – and begins to sob.

A hush falls. Strangers cry. The medium comforts her and tells her that her lost baby is well, growing up in the spirit world and looked after. The girl, though still sobbing quietly, seems relieved and grateful.

Through 16 interviews, a survey of 84 people and formal observations at psychic nights, we found that for attendees, these events blur boundaries between sacred and secular, grief and humour, scepticism and belief.

Measuring the popularity of pub psychic nights is difficult. Many are advertised locally, with little digital trace. There is no central record of how many take place, and few appear on national ticketing platforms. But proxies such as Google search data suggest these events are increasing in popularity: the past eight years have seen a +600% increase in Google searches for “psychic night near me” in the UK.

These nights, which often take place on weekday evenings in working men’s clubs, pubs and local function rooms, hold spiritual, social and emotional meaning. This is particularly the case for working-class and otherwise marginalised women.

In all the psychic nights we researched, audiences were at least 95% female, with people attending with friends or family, and ranging from teenagers to retirement age. A large number of those we interviewed identified as working-class. They told us that the pub was an accessible, welcoming, and safe venue. Many were repeat attendees – our survey data showed that the median number of events attended was ten.




Read more:
How paranormal beliefs help people cope in uncertain times


What happens at a psychic night

A typical psychic night begins with the audience getting a drink and finding a seat (usually in small groups around pub tables), and the medium introducing themselves and their work.

Long gone are the days when physical mediumship (such as moving tables or glasses to communicate with spirit) dominated the scene, as in the Victorian era. Today, mental mediumship (mental communication between the medium and the spirit world) is most common.

There are usually one or two mediums working at each event, relaying poignant, and sometimes funny, messages from spirit to audience. A medium will ask an audience member, “Do you recognise someone in spirit who died of a heart complaint, could be a grandparent, they loved eating mints”, for example, in an attempt to connect the spirit to the living.

What follows is usually a message of hope, such as: “You’ve been through a difficult time, but brighter days are coming.” Often, messages are ended with the phrase, “I’ll leave their love with you”, before the medium moves to another audience member. Not everyone gets a reading at each event, but many will.

Psychic nights offer participants the chance to engage in spiritual experimentation without committing to institutional religion. There is no requirement to believe in a specific doctrine, to know ritual practices or to attend regularly. You buy a ticket (usually between £5 and £25), order a drink and listen.

Most people we surveyed were not affiliated with any institutional religion. Most actively distanced themselves from organised religion altogether, with 57% stating that religion was not so or not at all important in their lives.

Why people turn to psychic nights

While psychic nights can be entertaining, they are rarely “just entertainment”.
Many who attend pub psychic nights are dealing with loss and grief. Others have questions about what happens when you die, and whether communication with the dead is possible. Some are just along for the laugh.

Many of our participants had longstanding interests in spirit communication and the paranormal (on the rise in Britain and globally), often dating back to childhood stories, family traditions or exposure to ghosts and spirits in popular culture. Some were introduced to psychic nights by friends or family and attended with them; others saw events advertised on social media or in their local pub and were curious. Most described the experience as meaningful, some described it as life-changing.

Mediums, often (although not exclusively) women, encourage audience members to take time for themselves, assert boundaries with partners or children or trust their instincts. In some cases, these messages provide a sense of agency, helping people make difficult life decisions or come to terms with loss. For working-class women especially, these nights offer a space where emotional labour is validated, grief is acknowledged and hope is offered.

Yet, there are risks. Psychic nights operate outside formal institutional frameworks. There is no standard safeguarding, no required aftercare for anyone who might be upset by a message, and limited regulation. Mediums and psychics that are connected to Spiritualist Churches are trained and accredited. They are not allowed to offer health advice or make predictions for the future, though in our observation, not all who operate in pubs or clubs follow this.

We witnessed distressing moments, such as the teenage girl crying over her lost baby, a sister informed that her brother who had violently taken his own life had a message for her, a male medium telling a woman she was being followed by a sex demon. The emotional intensity of these events can be profound, and the lack of support structures raises ethical questions about vulnerability and responsibility.

Still, many participants described feeling “hooked”, because the nights helped them manage grief and the uncertainty of modern life. Our findings suggest that pub psychic nights are becoming a meaningful feature of contemporary British spirituality.

At a time when established forms of Christian affiliation are in decline, these events create opportunities to ask existential questions – about life, death, love and the hereafter – outside the boundaries of formal religious institutions and long-term commitment.

The Conversation

Josh Bullock received funding from The International Research Network for the Study of Science and Belief in Society (INSBS) based at the University Of Birmingham to fund the study, “Weekday Worldviews: The Patrons, Promise and Payoff of Psychic Nights in England”.

Caroline Starkey received funding from The International Research Network for the Study of Science and Belief in Society (INSBS) based at the University Of Birmingham to fund the study, “Weekday Worldviews: The Patrons, Promise and Payoff of Psychic Nights in England”.

ref. The spiritual and emotional world of pub psychic nights – https://theconversation.com/the-spiritual-and-emotional-world-of-pub-psychic-nights-264086

Is China a climate goodie or baddie – or both?

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Will de Freitas, Environment + Energy Editor, The Conversation

This roundup of The Conversation’s climate coverage was first published in our award-winning weekly climate action newsletter, Imagine.


You could tell me that China still gets most of its electricity from coal and is building more new coal power plants than anywhere else in the world. And you’d be right.

You could also tell me that China (with a sixth of the world’s population) is installing about half of the world’s new renewable energy. And you’d be right too.

In fact, you could read academic experts making all of the above points on The Conversation. It’s OK to feel confused: China really is a key driver of both emissions and solutions.

The world’s largest emitter is also the single most important country in determining how much the climate will breakdown and whether the world will do enough to stop it.

So what should we make of China and its role in global climate policy?

Xi on stage
China’s president Xi Jinping speaks at Cop21 in 2015, the UN climate summit that lead to the Paris agreement.
Frederic Legrand – COMEO / shutterstock

Imagine a negotiating hall in Belem, Brazil, six weeks from now: it’s the Cop30 climate summit. Officials are murmuring to each other, translators are whispering into their headsets, and people are crowding around one delegation in particular. It isn’t the US or the EU drawing the crowd: it’s China.

Until relatively recently, this would have seemed an outlandish suggestion. But over the past few years many academics from around the world have made the same point: China is increasingly becoming a world leader in climate diplomacy.

For decades, many assumed such leadership would come from the US or Europe. But as US commitment has wavered, and Europe seems preoccupied by other matters, expectations are shifting eastward.

Yixian Sun, an associate professor of international development at the University of Bath, says it’s time for China to step up. He says that: “As an emerging superpower with advantages in clean technologies and a leadership that recently reaffirmed their commitment to climate action, the country is well positioned.”




Read more:
The world needs climate change leadership – it’s time for China to step up


Shannon Gibson, who researches the dynamics of UN climate negotiations at the University of Southern California, says that China already is stepping up. In her analysis, the country “seems to be happily filling the climate power vacuum created by the US exit [from the Paris agreement]”.

Beijing, she writes, is using leadership on climate change as part of a “broader strategy of gaining influence and economic power by supporting economic growth and cooperation in developing countries”.




Read more:
US government may be abandoning the global climate fight, but new leaders are filling the void – including China


Whether China is engaging in climate diplomacy reluctantly, enthusiastically or strategically, something is clearly shifting. There was a nice illustration of this at the last UN climate summit, Cop29 in Baku, Azerbaijan, last year.

At the time, Lucia Green-Weiskel of Trinity College in the US reported on a spat over whether China should provide funds to help poorer countries adapt to climate change at a level comparable to other big emitters. The dispute, she noted, “almost shut down the entire conference”.

Previously, only UN-listed “developed countries” were expected to pay. However, the draft agreement called on “all actors” to scale up financing. This would have included China, which is a major emitter today but only industrialised recently (so has little historical responsibility for climate change) and remains poorer per capita than other big emitters.

In the end, a compromise was reached. Green-Weiskel says the final agreement “excluded China from the heavier expectations placed on richer nations”.




Read more:
China’s influence grows at COP29 climate talks as US leadership fades


Why China’s promises matter

China recently pledged to cut its greenhouse gas emissions by 7%–10% by 2035, as part of its commitments under the Paris agreement.

Most analysts were underwhelmed, arguing that Beijing should be more ambitious. But Myles Allen and Kai Jiang of the University of Oxford say it’s worth taking pledges like this seriously as “Beijing has form in only promising what it plans to deliver”. They note that, for instance, China looks set to deliver on a promise to peak its emissions this decade “barely 50 years after it began to industrialise in earnest”.

For them: “China’s targets aren’t just slogans or aspirations – they are statements of intent, grounded in what the country believes it can deliver. And where China goes, others will follow.” That’s because even fairly modest revisions to China’s targets can shift expectations and put pressure on other big emitters to do more.




Read more:
When China makes a climate pledge, the world should listen


We can’t simply assert that China is a goodie or a baddie when it comes to global climate change policy. This is complex stuff with lots of moving parts, and you can easily change perceptions simply by emphasising coal power over new solar, or vice versa.

Some will say any leadership is better than a vacuum. And China does seem more serious about addressing climate change than many western governments. But others might feel uneasy: are we ready for a global climate order in which it’s Beijing calling the shots, not Washington or Brussels?

Post-carbon

Welcome back to post-carbon after a couple weeks off. It can be hard to explain to the layperson how a decision made at Cop30 will actually affect them. So this week, we want to know if you’ve directly noticed any big global climate policy affecting your day to day life, for better or for worse. Please share any examples that spring to mind.

The Conversation

ref. Is China a climate goodie or baddie – or both? – https://theconversation.com/is-china-a-climate-goodie-or-baddie-or-both-266502

Often overlooked, Tudor art richly reflected a turbulent century of growth and change

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Christina Faraday, Research Fellow in History of Art, University of Cambridge

It can sometimes seem like the Tudors are everywhere, at least in Britain: on television, in bookshops and in historic houses and galleries across the country. Yet within the discipline of art history, appreciation for pictures and objects produced in England between 1485 and 1603 has been slow to take hold.

For a long time, narratives about the popular impetus behind the Reformation led some historians to believe art was unwelcome in Protestant England, for fear it would inspire people to commit idolatry.

Meanwhile, long-held scholarly prejudices towards easel paintings and sculptures (which, excepting portraits, are few and far between in Tudor England) and against “decorative” arts and household objects, reinforced the notion that the country was practically barren of visual art in the 16th century.

Happily, times are now changing. In the last few years, the period’s beautiful and intriguing artworks have been receiving more attention in mainstream art history, not least in the New York Metropolitan Museum’s 2022 exhibition The Tudors: Art and Majesty in Renaissance England.

Still, to date there has never been a comprehensive introduction to Tudor art aimed at the general public. My new book, The Story of Tudor Art will be the first to unite artworks and contexts across the whole of the “long Tudor century”, looking at the works of famous names like Hans Holbein the Younger and Nicholas Hilliard, but also beyond them, to interior furnishings, fashion and objects by unknown makers.

The book considers art made for the royal court, but also for increasing numbers of “middling” professionals, who embraced art and material objects to mark their new-found status in society.

Rather than appreciating art on purely aesthetic terms, Tudor viewers had practical expectations for the objects they owned and commissioned. Art was primarily a mode of communication, akin to speeches or the written word. Images had an advantage, however, as vision was considered the highest of the senses, exerting the greatest power over the mind.

Images could shape the viewer morally – for example, through exposure to long galleries full of portraits of the great and the good, where viewers could learn about them and emulate their virtues. But this shaping was also physical, as with stories of pregnant women who, viewing certain images, were thought to unconsciously shape the foetus in their womb, a phenomenon known as “maternal impression”.

Most casual observers probably recognise Holbein’s magnificent portraits of Henry VIII, and some of Elizabeth I’s many painted personae. But even for aficionados, artworks produced under Henry VII, Edward VI and Mary I remain relatively obscure. One of the book’s aims is to draw attention to these overlooked periods, showing that even during the so-called mid-Tudor crisis (when England had four different rulers in just 11 years), art and architecture remained a priority for shaping narratives about individuals and institutions such as the Church.

Henry VII emerges as a canny patron of visual arts, using various means to promote himself in his new role as king of England. Artists looked to legendary characters, ancient and recent, to bolster his tentative claim to the throne.

Popular legends originating in Geoffrey of Monmouth’s (largely fabricated) “British history”, resurface in a genealogical manuscript in the British Library showing Henry VII’s descent from Brutus, the legendary Trojan founder of Britain. This positions Henry as the Welsh messiah destined to rescue Britain from its Saxon invaders.

Architectural patronage at Westminster Abbey in London and King’s College Chapel in Cambridge aligned him with his half-uncle and Lancastrian predecessor, Henry VI. Rumours of miracles had been swirling about him since his probable murder in 1471. Meanwhile, reforms to the coinage included the first accurate royal likeness on English coins, changing the generic face used by his predecessors into a recognisable portrait of Henry VII himself.

The Protestant monarch Edward VI and his regime passed the first official laws against religious images, resulting in the tearing down of religious images and icons in cathedrals and parish churches. But Edward VI’s reign was not only a time of destruction. Under the influence of the two successive leaders of his council, elite patrons began to embrace classical architecture, a development that may relate to Protestant ideas about restoring the church to the time of Christ’s apostles.

Edward’s successor, Mary I, a staunch Catholic, made many attempts to undo the work of her Protestant-minded predecessor, including legislation to restore some church images. Perhaps more significantly, her marriage to Philip II of Spain brought England into closer artistic alignment with continental Europe. This saw a flood of artworks and artists associated with the Habsburg empire enter the country, including the first Titian portrait ever seen in England.

Due to the long neglect of Tudor art in mainstream art history, a vast amount of research remains to be done. Even within the better-studied reigns of Henry VIII and Elizabeth I, discoveries are waiting, and whole avenues of cultural and intellectual interpretation are yet to be explored.


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This article features references to a book that has been included for editorial reasons, and may contain links to bookshop.org. If you click on one of the links and go on to buy something from bookshop.org The Conversation UK may earn a commission.

The Conversation

Christina Faraday has previously received funding from the Arts and Humanities Research Council. She is a Trustee of the Walpole Society for British art history.

ref. Often overlooked, Tudor art richly reflected a turbulent century of growth and change – https://theconversation.com/often-overlooked-tudor-art-richly-reflected-a-turbulent-century-of-growth-and-change-265421

Nature’s not perfect: fig wasps try to balance sex ratios for survival but they can get it wrong

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Jaco Greeff, Professor in Genetics, University of Pretoria

Television nature programmes and scientific papers tend to celebrate the perfection of evolved traits. But the father of evolution through natural selection, Charles Darwin, warned that evolution would produce quirks and “blunders” that reflect a lineage’s history.

Our recent study from the Kruger National Park in South Africa shows how true this is. Our team of behavioural ecologists found that the behaviour of certain fig wasps, long considered textbook examples of precise adaptation, is far from perfect.

Previous research on fig wasps, but also other parasitoid wasps in general, has focused almost exclusively on design perfection. The aim of our work was to investigate a case where we expected to see “imperfections” due to necessary compromises and the legacy of history.

Our study focused on Ceratosolen arabicus, a tiny wasp (about 2.5mm long) that pollinates sycamore figs. We will call them “pollinators” for simplicity.

For years, researchers have admired how pollinating fig wasps such as C. arabicus adjust the percentage of their offspring that are male (their sex ratios) with near mathematical precision to maximise their reproductive success.

But a previous study suggested that when a pollinator shares a fig with another species of wasp it might incorrectly “adjust” its sex ratio as if it was with a female of its own species.

For our research, we allowed the pollinator to lay eggs on its own or together with a gall wasp (Sycophaga sycomori) or a cuckoo wasp (Ceratosolen galili). These species, like the pollinators, crawl into figs to lay their eggs and may elicit the incorrect response.

We then used a statistical approach to determine how well various hypotheses explained the variation in the data. The hypotheses we tested were:

  • that the pollinators’ sex ratio remained unchanged by the presence of the other species

  • various degrees of effects, for example, that each of the species affects the sex ratio differently.

We found that the other two species of wasps do indeed interfere with the pollinators’ neat sex ratio production mechanism. Pollinators lose up to 5% of their potential grandchildren when they share a fig with a gall wasp, and 12% when they share it with a cuckoo wasp.

Still, the pollinators have survived for millions of years and are not expected to go extinct because of this loss of grandchildren.

Given such a “flaw” in a trait that seemed perfect, biologists should expect to see many “design errors” in life if we look for them. We have to be open to that possibility so that we see what’s actually there and not what we expect to see.

How things work

In each fig, one or a few pollinator mothers lay all their eggs. The mother or mothers’ offspring hatch inside the fig and mate inside. When the mother or mothers’ offspring mature, they mate within the fig, meaning brothers routinely mate with sisters. This means brothers will compete among each other for mating opportunities. In contrast, mated females leave their “birth” fig and disperse to start the cycle anew. But importantly, females compete with unrelated females to find new figs to lay their eggs in.

Therefore, a lone mother should produce just enough sons, about 10% of her total brood, to ensure all her daughters get mated. The rest can be daughters.

The wasps have a simple trick to control the sex ratio directly: unfertilised eggs become sons, while fertilised ones become daughters.

When two mothers lay eggs in the same fig, each must produce more sons, around 25%, because now their sons have to compete with those of the other mother. But if a mother shares a fig with another species, this logic does not apply because competition for mates and mating opportunities for her sons do not change. Therefore, her sex ratio should stay the same as if she were alone.

But it does not.

Pollinator mothers use two simple mechanisms to adjust their sex ratio in response to the presence of other pollinators, but these mechanisms are also triggered by other species.

Let us explain the first mechanism using a gin and tonic analogy.

Imagine a bartender making a G&T: first, he pours a tot of gin (sons) and then fills the rest of the glass with tonic (daughters). Now, imagine two bartenders unknowingly making a G&T in one glass. They both add a tot of gin and then top up with tonic. The result is a stronger drink with more gin.

Pollinator mothers do something similar. They tend to lay male eggs first, and then gradually switch to laying females. We call this the ladies-last effect. But when other species like the cuckoo wasp are present, this pattern still changes the sex ratio because the second species shrinks the glass’s total size. As a consequence the pollinator ends up laying fewer daughters. This can be seen in the figure moving from right to left along the x-axis.

The second mechanism works differently but leads to the same problematic outcome. It relies on an active adjustment of the sex ratio. Although the G&T analogy breaks down, this is like each bartender adding more than a tot of gin when he realises there is a second bartender mixing a drink in the glass.

Similarly, when a pollinator detects another pollinator, she increases the number of sons. But when another species is present, she still behaves as if she is competing with her own kind, increasing her number of sons, as can be seen in the figure moving upwards along the y-axis.

Since both mechanisms continue operating inappropriately when other species are present, the sex ratios become erroneously skewed. Specifically, the sex ratio of a single mother shifts from 10% sons when she is alone, to 16% when she is with a gall wasp, and to 26% when she is with the cuckoo wasp. It should have remained at 10%.

All that glitters is not gold

As an isiZulu proverb says: “Ikiwane elihle ligcwala izibungu”, literally translated to: “The nicest-looking fig is usually full of worms.” Pollinator sex ratio adjustment has been touted as a prime example of how perfectly natural selection can optimise the design of biological systems. But this is an oversimplification.

In reality, the history of a trait and compromises between a trait’s various functions can direct evolution to imperfect solutions. For instance, here evolution did not “design” separate “solutions” for with-own-species and with-other-species scenarios.

Instead, evolution seems to have optimised it for the average condition, an imperfect, but workable, compromise. The cost in number of grandchildren due to this compromise is astronomical because pollinators in the Kruger National Park frequently share a fig with another pollinator, galler or a cuckoo wasp.

Such trade-offs are likely common in nature. Evolution tends not to redesign from scratch; rather, it tinkers with what is already there. As a result, we often get solutions that work well enough, rather than perfectly.

So next time you marvel at a natural wonder, remember: the story is rarely one of flawless design. It is a story of imperfect compromises, shaped by what evolution could do with what it had. And that story is far richer and more real than any Hollywood ending.

The Conversation

Jaco Greeff received funding from the National Research Foundation. Any opinion, findings and conclusions or recommendations expressed in this material are those of the authors and therefore the NRF does not accept any liability in regard thereto.

ref. Nature’s not perfect: fig wasps try to balance sex ratios for survival but they can get it wrong – https://theconversation.com/natures-not-perfect-fig-wasps-try-to-balance-sex-ratios-for-survival-but-they-can-get-it-wrong-260852