Golden eagles were reintroduced to Ireland, but without prey they’re now struggling to thrive

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Fiona McAuliffe, Lecturer of Ecology, Scotland’s Rural College

Dennis Jacobsen/Shutterstock

In the early 2000s, golden eagles soared once again over the hills of Donegal in northwest Ireland, for the first time in nearly a century. Their return was celebrated as a landmark in Irish conservation, a hopeful sign that one of the island’s most iconic predators was back.

But two decades on, the reality is sobering. The population remains small with just five territorial pairs and an estimated total population of just 20-25 birds. Breeding success is poor, and the golden eagle’s future in Ireland is uncertain. So what went wrong?

Our research published in the Irish Naturalists’ Journal suggests the problem isn’t with the eagles themselves – it’s with the landscape they were released into. On paper, Donegal’s uplands looked ideal: open terrain, low human disturbance and ample wild prey. But over time, key parts of that ecosystem have quietly unravelled.

Golden eagles rely on a steady supply of prey to thrive and raise chicks – notably red grouse and Irish hares. Yet, during our recent surveys along transects (predetermined lines through an area) and footage from camera traps in and around Glenveagh national park, the uplands seemed eerily quiet. Not just quiet of eagles, but of the smaller animals they prey on for food. The landscape looked wild, but had lost some of its vital living components.

When comparing the available prey biomass, that’s the combined weight of grouse and hares per unit area, Donegal had 74-83% less prey than equivalent areas in the Scottish Highlands where golden eagles are thriving. That’s an enormous shortfall. Without enough food, adult eagles must travel further to hunt and spend more energy – and so are less likely to raise chicks successfully. A few lean years can tip a small population like this into crisis.

Why is prey so scarce? One of the main culprits is overgrazing. Red deer numbers have exploded across Ireland in recent decades. In places such as Donegal, their constant browsing and grazing has severely degraded upland habitats. This damages the heather moorlands that grouse and hares depend on, leaving them with less cover and fewer food sources.

A red deer looks at a camera trap in an upland environment.
Red deer were the most common species recorded during camera trap surveys.
Queen’s University Belfast

Add to this the growing pressure from medium-sized predators, including foxes and badgers. Without apex predators such as wolves or lynx to keep them in check, these “mesopredators” flourish. This well-documented phenomenon is known as mesopredator release where populations of mid-sized predators increase after the loss of top predators, often leading to greater pressure on prey species, such as ground-nesting birds and young hares, compounding the challenges for these struggling prey species.

And while Ireland’s conservation laws look strong on paper, implementation often lags behind. Some protected areas remain heavily grazed, burned or unmanaged. Management plans are either missing, unenforced or outdated. This weakens the very protections meant to sustain wildlife.

A lesson for rewilding

The reintroduction of golden eagles was based on the best available knowledge at the time. But ecosystems aren’t static. What may have been viable habitat in the 1990s no longer meets the needs of a breeding eagle population today.

Reintroducing a species isn’t enough. The systems that sustain it also need to be restored. The clichéd paradigm that nature-is-good and humans-are-bad isn’t helpful. Instead modern landscapes are often so degraded that they can’t recover if left alone.

Upland habitat with exposed peat and areas of rock.
Upland areas within Glenveagh national park are overgrazed, leading to exposed peat and erosion.
Fiona McAuliffe

Conservation can facilitate active recovery. Real rewilding is about more than simply “putting animals back” and “letting nature take its course”. It is about putting systems back: predators, prey, plants and the processes that connect them.

Despite the challenges, the golden eagle population has not failed in Ireland – not yet at least. To turn the tide, conservation efforts must go beyond charismatic species and focus on landscape restoration. That means reducing overgrazing, supporting prey recovery, rebalancing predator dynamics and making sure protected areas are actually protected.

Encouragingly, Glenveagh national park has begun some of this work, by reducing deer overgrazing and regenerating native woodlands. If this landscape restoration is sustained and expanded, golden eagles could still thrive in a more balanced, functioning upland ecosystem.

These birds are more than just a symbol of wildness. They are a litmus test of ecosystem health. Right now, they’re telling us something important. Something those calling for the reintroduction of other top predators, including wolves, would do well to consider.


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The Conversation

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. Golden eagles were reintroduced to Ireland, but without prey they’re now struggling to thrive – https://theconversation.com/golden-eagles-were-reintroduced-to-ireland-but-without-prey-theyre-now-struggling-to-thrive-258832

Four reasons why many of us feel the global economy is not on our side

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Cahal Moran, Visiting Fellow in the Department of Psychological and Behavioural Science, London School of Economics and Political Science

During my adult life, I have never experienced what it’s like to live in a “good” economy. Starting with the global financial crash in 2008, which hit just as I began studying economics, the world seems to have lurched from crisis to crisis and the UK economy even more so.

Some of those crises, like the crash and COVID, are sudden shocks. Others have been more gradual, such as increasingly unaffordable housing or the rising dominance of the world’s ultra rich.

As I explore in my new book, Why We’re Getting Poorer, the result of these crises is an economic system which works for some much more than it does for others. Here are four reasons why you may be feeling let down.

1. Grasping for growth

Like many of his fellow leaders across the world, the British prime minister, Keir Starmer, is aiming to make economic growth the primary mission of his government. And understandably so.

A growing economy puts more money in people’s pockets and brings other benefits such as low unemployment. But economic growth is not easy (in the UK it has been poor for a long time).

That’s because there’s no GDP dial that a prime minister or president can simply turn up. Research shows that economic growth is an amorphous and difficult goal which depends on many factors – geopolitical, demographic, technological – outside any single country’s control.

One option is to focus on achievable goals around investment, like the public investments of £113 billion on homes, transport and energy planned in the UK. But big projects can take a long time to build and develop, so even if they do boost growth, it can take a while for households to feel the benefits.

2. Inherent inequality

Against the backdrop of low growth in the UK has been high inequality, under Conservative and Labour governments. And again, inequality is an international issue.

The wealth of the richest people in the world skyrocketed over COVID, buoyed in many cases by the increased importance of the tech sector during lockdowns. Even before the pandemic, wealth inequality was a problem across the globe.

This imbalance has given the very richest opportunities to buy up commercial competitors, indulge in space travel and control large parts of the media, exerting extreme economic, social and political power. Needless to say, their economic priorities are not the same as everyone else’s.

Meanwhile, communities and regions may be left behind, with declining physical and social infrastructure. People living in hollowed out areas where incomes and opportunities are limited are unlikely to feel that the economic system is working for them.

3. Globalisation

Globalisation has made a lot of people – in places like China, India and Brazil – better off. But it is not a system which ensures economic benefits for everyone.

With global competition, big businesses are often under pressure to reduce costs. Free trade deals have often failed to enforce labour standards or redistribute gains to poorly paid workers, and in many cases simply made the rich richer.

Such a distorted form of economic governance, where large sections of society end up feeling left behind was bound to provoke a response. Some would link it to recent political events like Brexit and the presidencies of Donald Trump, whose international tariffs are a clear attempt to reverse the rise of globalisation.

Row of parked up colourful lorries.
Sporadic supply chains.
Corona Borealis Studio/Shutterstock

Since the pandemic, more fault-lines have been exposed. The global economy has become too dependent on certain regions, epitomised by Taiwanese dominance in the manufacturing of semiconductors, or European reliance on Russia for gas and oil.

Recent years have also seen supply chain bottlenecks, leading to shortages of goods including cars, phones and even salad ingredients. Inflexible global systems have been ineffective, and internationally agreed fixes are hard to achieve.

4. Climate change

World news at the start of 2020 was dominated by the massive wildfires raging across Australia. At the start of 2025, Los Angeles burned.

As the global climate shifts and lurches, extreme weather events are becoming more common. Floods, hurricanes and extreme temperatures look to be the likely outcome.

When sea levels rise, countless coastal cities will experience flooding, and many Pacific islands may disappear altogether. The UN’s climate science advisory group, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) suggests that humanity will struggle with food production, disease and massive migration.

This will all result in huge economic costs, impeding growth and disrupting livelihoods across the world. According to the IPCC, the impacts could range from extreme weather events disrupting infrastructure to changing weather reducing yields in agriculture, forestry and fishing.

Yet many countries appear to be backtracking on their commitment to reducing emissions. It seems they would prefer to deal with the fallout of climate change rather than invest in potential solutions like carbon taxes, walkable cities or alternative fuels. But such acts of self-harm are not a sound basis for a prosperous economy, society or planet.

The Conversation

Cahal Moran 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. Four reasons why many of us feel the global economy is not on our side – https://theconversation.com/four-reasons-why-many-of-us-feel-the-global-economy-is-not-on-our-side-252220

I rode the Tour de France to study its impact on the human body – here’s what I learned

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Steve Faulkner, Senior Lecturer in Exercise Physiology, Nottingham Trent University

The Tour de France is often called the world’s biggest annual sporting event. Each July up to 12 million people line the roadside, while the cumulative TV audience tops 3 billion viewers across 190 countries.

In 2025, 184 riders will compete in teams of eight, racing a punishing 3,500 km route with nearly 50,000 metres of climbing – roughly the height of Mount Everest six times over. Across 21 stages riders tackle time trials, flat sprints and brutal mountain passes through the Alps, Pyrenees and Massif Central.

Professional cyclists possess extraordinary endurance and are capable of generating high power outputs day after day. Yet, despite having far less training and support, in recent years a number of amateur cyclists have begun riding the Tour route just days before the pros. The Tour 21 is one such effort and offers cyclists a chance to follow in the tyre tracks of the elite while raising money for a good cause.

In 2021 I joined 19 others to ride the full route in support of Cure Leukaemia, with a shared goal of raising £1 million for blood cancer research. As a blood cancer survivor diagnosed at 16, this challenge combined my love of cycling, my background in science and my deep desire to give back to the community that helped save my life. It was also a unique opportunity to study how amateur cyclists cope with one of the most demanding endurance events in the world.

The research findings were published in the Journal of Science and Cycling, to coincide with 2025’s Grand Départ (the official start of the race) in Lille.

Training for the impossible

Originally, the study planned to include lab-based physiological assessments of the amateur cyclists undertaking the Tour de France route, but the COVID-19 pandemic forced us to adapt and rely instead on data from training diaries. These gave us insight into how much (or little) training had been done leading up to the ride, and how riders managed the physical and mental strain during the event itself.

While professional cyclists typically train 20–25 hours a week – often at altitude, with tailored coaching and racing schedules – our group of amateurs had full-time jobs, were typically 15–20 years older than the pros and trained around seven to ten hours a week.

Our preparation was far from ideal, averaging just 47km per ride and 350 metres of climbing; a fraction of what the Tour demands. In fact, this amounted to less than 10% of the required climbing during the mountain stages.

Once the ride began, the contrast between training and reality was stark. The group averaged nearly seven hours of riding a day, a 300% increase from their usual routine. Within four days signs of overtraining began to emerge: riders were no longer able to elevate their heart rates, a classic marker of central nervous system fatigue and excessive physical stress.

As the days progressed, performance metrics continued to decline: heart rates dropped, power outputs fell and mood scores deteriorated. The cumulative fatigue was undeniable.

Surprisingly, when we compared our amateur data to metrics from professional riders, we found that although pros ride at much higher power outputs, amateurs were subject to greater relative stress. On some days they spent almost double the time in the saddle, which meant they operated closer to their physical limits, with far less time for recovery – and often suboptimal sleep and nutrition.

By the final week many of the riders could no longer produce the same power they had in the first few days. In some cases, heart rates wouldn’t rise above 100 beats per minute – a clear sign of accumulated fatigue and physiological overload.

How to prepare for an ultra-endurance challenge

If you’re planning to take on a major endurance event – whether it’s cycling, running, or hiking – here are some lessons from the road:

1. Train specifically for the event

Your training should mirror the challenge ahead. For the Tour, this meant preparing for long, back-to-back days with significant climbing. Mimic the intensity, volume and terrain as closely as possible.

2. Understand how quickly fatigue builds

Over multiple days, fatigue doesn’t just accumulate – it compounds. Listen to your body, adapt your plan and include plenty of recovery time.

3. Prioritise nutrition and recovery

These two factors can make or break your performance. You’ll need to consume enough energy to fuel the effort, but avoid excessive intake that leads to unnecessary weight gain. Recovery – through sleep, rest and refuelling – is equally vital.

4. Work with an experienced coach

More than fancy bikes or high-tech gear, a good coach is your best investment. They can help tailor your training plan, track your progress and adapt strategies as needed. Don’t underestimate this support.

A ride to remember

Completing the Tour de France route is a monumental achievement for any cyclist — amateur or pro. In 2021, our team not only rode the full route, but also raised over £1 million for Cure Leukaemia. For me, it marked a deeply personal milestone in my cancer journey.

Throughout those 21 days, I thought often of the physical and emotional battles I faced during treatment; moments when I didn’t know if I’d survive, let alone ride across France. That experience gave me the resilience to keep going, even when my body was screaming to stop.

Riding the Tour taught me that we’re capable of far more than we realise, especially when we ride with purpose.

The Conversation

Steve Faulkner 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. I rode the Tour de France to study its impact on the human body – here’s what I learned – https://theconversation.com/i-rode-the-tour-de-france-to-study-its-impact-on-the-human-body-heres-what-i-learned-260524

Why many kidney patients are still choosing hospital dialysis – and how the NHS can help more people access care at home

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Leah McLaughlin, Research Fellow in Health Services, Bangor University

PeopleImages.com – Yuri A/Shutterstock

Every week, thousands of people with kidney disease in the UK spend long hours in hospital receiving life-saving dialysis. For many, this means travelling to a kidney unit three times a week and sitting through sessions that last four hours or more. It’s a huge commitment that affects people’s ability to work, travel and maintain a normal social life.

But for many with kidney failure, there’s another option: dialysis at home. It’s more flexible, often less disruptive and, in the long run, more cost-effective for the NHS. So why do most people still choose hospital dialysis?

A parliamentary summit in May reflected on how to make dialysis more accessible to patients at home. My colleagues and I published research on this topic in 2019. Working in partnership with people who have kidney disease, their families, NHS staff, dialysis providers and kidney charities, we explored the barriers to home dialysis, and how to overcome them.

People with kidney failure need either a transplant or regular dialysis to filter waste from their blood. Despite NHS guidance that at least 20% of people on dialysis should be supported to have this treatment at home, this target isn’t being met in many parts of the UK.

A close up of a kidney dialysis machine.
A kidney dialysis machine.
ali.can0707/Shutterstock

Our research team, which included people who had experienced dialysis, held discussions with 50 people from across Wales. Many told us that hospital dialysis was presented by healthcare staff as the default option. For those who had not yet come to terms with needing dialysis, or who had delayed planning due to the unpredictable nature of kidney disease, hospital treatment felt like the path of least resistance.

Some were concerned about the disruption home dialysis might bring. This included changes to their living space or worries that partners or family members might become their carers. Others valued the routine and regular social contact of hospital dialysis.

Healthcare professionals may unintentionally reinforce this choice. Some feel more comfortable monitoring patients in clinical settings or are unsure about how to support home dialysis effectively. In some cases, home dialysis isn’t an option because local services don’t have the infrastructure to support it.

Rather than simply identifying problems, we worked together to develop practical solutions. In 2021, working with patients, healthcare professionals, charities, commissioners and industry, we devised a new service plan that outlines how kidney services could be redesigned to support more people to choose home dialysis.

One important finding was the power of talking to others already doing it. It’s not just about practical advice, but reassurance that it can work.

We also identified the need for better training for both professionals and patients. People told us they wanted to understand their options earlier, ideally a year before dialysis starts. That means tackling difficult topics, such as advance care planning, sooner and with the right support.

Social care also has an important role to play. People with complex needs – like living alone, having mobility challenges, or experiencing financial hardship – may need home support, welfare advice or help navigating the system.

The cost of choice

In a linked study, published in 2022, we analysed the costs of different dialysis options. Home dialysis was found to cost between £16,000 and £23,000 per person per year.

Hospital dialysis costs more, between £20,000 and £24,000, rising to over £30,000 when ambulance transport is needed. This suggests that encouraging more people to have dialysis at home could deliver savings for the NHS.

In Wales, where all kidney services are coordinated through a single clinical network, home dialysis is more widely available. But in England, services are more fragmented, so access can depend on where you live.

Even if these changes were implemented, fundamental issues may still prevent progress. Beneath the surface of patient satisfaction lies a deeper problem – the NHS dialysis service is no longer working as intended.

Transport is one of the most frequently cited concerns among people receiving hospital dialysis, and no one seems satisfied with current arrangements. But satisfaction surveys fail to capture the complexity of the situation.

People often begin dialysis in a unit that isn’t closest to home due to availability. Later, when given the option to move closer or switch to home dialysis, they may decline. These dialysis units begin to function as surrogate families, offering comfort, routine and social interaction, especially for people who live alone or are isolated.

This emotional connection can obscure the bigger picture. Patients may focus on transport as the issue, rather than recognising that their own decisions – shaped by understandable human needs and system design – are part of the wider challenge.

A close up of an arm receiving kidney dialysis.
shutterstock.
ali.can0707/Shutterstock

Staff are caught in the same dynamic. They worry about losing patients they’ve built relationships with or fear someone may not cope alone. But as a result, the service ends up operating not to help people live well for longer but to preserve a sense of satisfaction with a suboptimal status quo.

By focusing too heavily on keeping people content with the status quo, we risk obscuring what’s truly working, or not. Worse, we may end up wasting already limited resources trying to fix problems that are byproducts of a system shaped more by sentiment than strategy.

Meanwhile, staff are caught in the middle, trying to deliver care under mounting pressure, with increasingly blurred expectations.

What needs to change

To break out of this cycle, different questions should be asked, and not just whether people are satisfied, but whether they are living well, maintaining independence and receiving care that truly reflects their needs and values.

Our research shows that people already on home dialysis are a valuable and underused resource. They can offer support and insight to others who are starting their treatment.

The collaborative approach we used could be a model for other parts of the NHS. By designing services with people, not just for them, we can move closer to a future where more people live comfortably with kidney disease, and care that truly fits around their lives and not the other way round.

The Conversation

Leah McLaughlin receives funding from Health and Care Research Wales. She is affiliated with the Wales Kidney Research Unit.

We would like to acknowledge Dr Gareth Roberts Chief Investigator of the Dialysis Options and Choices study. Dr Gareth Roberts is a Consultant Nephrologist and Associate Medical Director at Aneurin Bevan University Health Board and is clinical lead of the Welsh Renal Clinical Network.

ref. Why many kidney patients are still choosing hospital dialysis – and how the NHS can help more people access care at home – https://theconversation.com/why-many-kidney-patients-are-still-choosing-hospital-dialysis-and-how-the-nhs-can-help-more-people-access-care-at-home-254747

Norman Tebbit, Conservative minister known as Thatcher’s enforcer, dies at 94

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Martin Farr, Senior Lecturer in Contemporary British History, Newcastle University

No man more embodied Thatcherism in the eyes of the public in the 1980s than Norman Tebbit, who died on July 7, aged 94.

Though certainly no yuppie, Lord Tebbit entitled his memoirs Upwardly Mobile. Margaret’s Thatcher’s triumph was also his. She saw in the Essex MP just the uncompromising approach to transforming Britain to which she too was committed.

Both had been disgusted by the Conservative government of Edward Heath blinking when it sought to face down trade unions in the early 1970s. The experience was elemental to their plan for government.

Others were more important to the New Right/neoliberal project elected in 1979: Conservative minister Keith Joseph, and Thatcher’s two chancellors, Geoffrey Howe and Nigel Lawson.

But Tebbit provided something no one else in Thatcher’s cabinet could: an innate connection with white, working-class voters, who may once have been Labour – Tebbit lauded Clement Attlee and Ernest Bevin – but whose values were held to have been washed away in the postwar tide of union militancy, social permissiveness, European integration, and mass immigration.


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He became a Conservative almost because, rather than in spite, of his background. “Essex man” was a presiding personification of the period.

Unlike almost all of Thatcher’s ministers, Tebbit did not go to university, but left school at 16 to encounter the “closed shop”: that one had to be a member of a particular union to work in a particular workplace. He became determined at that moment to end this practice, and with it so much else of postwar social democracy.

Thirty years later he did, as Thatcher’s secretary of state for employment. Tebbit’s 1982 Employment Act avenged the unions’ defeat of Heath. Union rights were weakened, never to be restored, and those of employers emboldened. It was a significant contribution to Thatcherism’s ledger.

As secretary of state for trade and industry, Tebbit pursued privatisation – the return (as its proponents, simply, put it) of nationalised industries to the private sector – with passion. The postwar settlement in Britain was being upended.

Public image

In an age before the televising of parliament (much less 24-hour news and social media), Tebbit cut through in a way few politicians did.

At at a time of inner-city violence, the public knew Tebbit’s unemployed father, decades earlier, didn’t riot but “got on his bike and looked for work”. No one else could have been called – in the words of Labour’s Michael Foot – a “semi-house-trained polecat”. TV’s puppet satire Spitting Image portrayed him as the “Chingford Strangler”, dressed in biker leathers.

Tebbit felt no need for his contempt for socialism to be leavened by charm or humour. There was invariably a slight sense of menace. He had no interest in ingratiating or propitiating. And so he was as loved by Conservative party members as he was hated by the left. He welcomed their hatred.

Tebbit in particular despised the swinging 60s – fittingly, he entered parliament in the election in which Harold Wilson’s government was unexpectedly ejected – and its legacy of “insufferable, smug, sanctimonious, naive, guilt-ridden, wet, pink orthodoxy”. Thus his trenchancy on immigration, overseas aid (a “sink of iniquity, corruption and violence”), sexuality (he was one of the few still to use the word “sodomite”) and Europe (he was a Eurosceptic before Euroscepticism).

In 1990 Tebbit asked of British-born people of Asian heritage: “Which side do they cheer for? Are you still harking back to where you came from or where you are?”. Tebbit’s “cricket test” is second only to Enoch Powell’s “rivers of blood” speech in the annals of inflammatory – they and their supporters would say candid – rhetoric relating to immigration. Neither would mind the association.




Read more:
Tory humiliation down to campaign length and cult of May – Norman Tebbit Q&A


What silenced most – if not quite all – of his critics, was Tebbit at his most vulnerable. Following the IRA bombing of the Grand Hotel Brighton in 1984, live television footage of him, only partially clad in his pyjamas, covered in dust, being stretchered out of the rubble, became the defining image of the atrocity.

The following year Thatcher moved him from trade and industry to, less happily, chairman of the Conservative party. It was a job that required a lighter touch than Tebbit’s.

Nevertheless, as chairman, he delivered the Conservatives’ third election victory, of 1987 – ensuring the permanence of the transformation – only to immediately retire to the backbenches. Margaret, his wife, had been paralysed by the bomb, and he devoted himself to her care for more than 30 years until her death.

As warranted as his departure from government may have been, Thatcher “bitterly regretted” losing him, a feeling she felt for few. Her defenestration in November 1990 is much harder to imagine had Tebbit still been in the cabinet.

Norman Tebbit’s conservatism and nationalism harked back to an earlier age, yet presaged the populism of the 2020s. In his remarks following the news of Tebbit’s death, Nigel Farage said he thought him “a great man”.

Tebbit’s values endure in public discourse, in more ways than he might have expected even a few years ago. But in his last months he was either unable, or unwilling, to say whether those values were those of the Conservatives, the traditional party of the right, or of another project. That may be a final Tebbit “test”.

The Conversation

Martin Farr 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. Norman Tebbit, Conservative minister known as Thatcher’s enforcer, dies at 94 – https://theconversation.com/norman-tebbit-conservative-minister-known-as-thatchers-enforcer-dies-at-94-260716

The Edwardians: Age of Elegance – a glimpse into royal patronage of the arts in the early 20th century

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Jane Hamlett, Professor of Modern British History, Royal Holloway University of London

King Edward VII, the son of Queen Victoria, ascended the throne upon her death in 1901, but unlike his mother, he ruled for a very short period and died in 1910. His reign, along with the years immediately before the outbreak of the first world war in 1914, are known as the Edwardian period.

Taking in this particular era, The Edwardians: Age of Elegance at the King’s Gallery in Buckingham Palace, focuses on the artistic patronage of Edward VII and his wife Alexandra of Denmark, and their son George V and his wife Mary of Teck.


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Edward and Alexandra were married in 1863, and as Prince and Princess of Wales the pair were leading tastemakers in Victorian upper-class society in the years before Edward came to the throne at the beginning of the 20th century.

This is often regarded as a golden age before the carnage and disruption of the great war saw the world indelibly change. However, the exhibition is not confined to these years and also reaches back into the Victorian period (1837-1901).

Those hoping to experience some of the glamour of the royal family won’t be disappointed. The first room takes visitors into the heady atmosphere of the Marlborough House set which centred around Edward and Alexandra’s residence in St James’s. One case commemorates the 1871 Waverley Ball which marked the centenary of popular Scottish novelist Sir Walter Scott. Alexandra’s elaborate Mary Queen of Scots costume – a silk dress with gold lacings – is on display.

The pageantry of the court is communicated through a series of stunning narrative paintings including the Danish artist Laurits Tuxen’s The Garden Party at Buckingham Palace (1897-1900) and The Family of Queen Victoria in 1887 (1887) painted for her golden jubilee in 1887.

This theme is picked up in the second large room, which focuses on the lavish world of the court. Here, the opulent 1911 coronation robes of George and Mary and a case of necklaces and jewellery take centre stage. This exhibit is the star of the show with plenty of visitors posing for photographs in front of it.

Royals as art collectors

But beneath all the glitz and glamour there’s a subtler story about how the royal family worked as collectors and their wider role in Britain and beyond. One of the most interesting things about the exhibition is that it reveals the personal taste of the royals, through what they chose to collect.

Horses, dogs and yachts are prominent. Edward’s dog Caesar, the wire-haired fox terrier who famously followed his funeral procession in 1910, appears in several images, and his race horse Persimmon is also represented.

Edward and Alexandra were patrons of leading artists of the day – he owned a number of works by the popular Victorian painter Frederic Leighton, while she collected art by the Pre-Raphaelite artist Edward Burne Jones. Alexandra also supported Minton’s pottery studio in the 1870s, which employed many women artists.

The exhibition also reveals Alexandra’s personal artistic activities. Like many upper-class Victorian women, she was a keen photographer and creator of photo albums. In the second half of the 19th century, album-making offered women an outlet for creativity and emotional expression. An album of designs made by Alexandra in the 1860s features photos arranged in a spiders web, with family and friends transformed into butterflies and insects.

Royal patronage was often about international connections. Alexandra’s Danish heritage is expressed through pieces from the Royal Copenhagen porcelain manufacturing company, including a massive porcelain cabinet, featuring an ornamental roof topped by a group of dancing monkeys surrounding a large swan.

A larger room is devoted to objects amassed on visits and through diplomatic exchange with the colonies which at the time included India, part of Africa, Australia, Canada and New Zealand. Increasingly speedy travel networks brought the world closer in the late 19th century and the royal family were able to travel further and more frequently than ever before. These visits played an important role in Britain’s imperial identity, and underlined the nation’s global power.

Between 1875 and 1876 Edward toured India. This trip produced a dazzling array of diplomatic gifts, such as a case filled with ornately decorated Indian weapons. After the visit Edward created a special Indian room for them at Marlborough House. Today, they sparkle in their cabinet for the exhibition’s visitors.

The exhibition does a good job of revealing the importance of imperial connections to the royal collections and the role of the royals in the larger colonial project, but in places I would have liked to know more about the stories behind these objects.

There’s a tension between the precise attribution of the work of British and European artists and the objects that have been gifted from the colonies – almost all labelled “unidentified maker”.

The absence of such information is the product of longstanding curatorial habits that shaped these collections in the past and continue to determine what we know about them today. This does mean that there are some absences about the origins and makers of these things, which could have been acknowledged more in some of the exhibition text.

This was particularly evident when looking at a large portrait of the Maori dancer Terewai Horomona by Gottfried Lindauer. The image has an elaborate frame with a plaque declaring it was presented to the Prince of Wales by the New Zealand commissioner for the Colonial and India Exhibition, 1886.

The commentary states that Edward was “enchanted” with the portrait which was “promptly gifted” to him. But this might have been better used as an opportunity to give some thought to the woman whose image was framed, presented and exchanged.

Overall, though, this is an enjoyable exhibition that reveals the royal social world, patronage and imperial connections, and tells a fascinating story about the artistic taste and activities of the lesser-known monarchs of the early 20th century.

The Conversation

Jane Hamlett 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 Edwardians: Age of Elegance – a glimpse into royal patronage of the arts in the early 20th century – https://theconversation.com/the-edwardians-age-of-elegance-a-glimpse-into-royal-patronage-of-the-arts-in-the-early-20th-century-259909

Alcohol sales changed subtly after Canada legalized cannabis

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Michael J. Armstrong, Associate Professor, Operations Research, Brock University

In Canada, some studies indicate alcohol consumption declined slightly as medical cannabis use became more common. Did similar decreases follow recreational legalization? (Unsplash+)

Before Canada legalized recreational cannabis in October 2018, it was unclear how the change might affect beverage alcohol consumption. Would consumers drink less or more after cannabis became legal?

Drinking might decrease, for example, if people used cannabis in place of alcohol. That switch potentially could reduce alcohol-related harms. But economically, it would mean any gains in the cannabis industry would likely come at the expense of alcohol producers.

Conversely, drinking might increase if people used alcohol along with cannabis. That could boost alcohol industry profits and government tax revenues, but at the cost of increased health risks of both substances.

In response to this uncertainty, some businesses diversified. One alcohol producer bought a cannabis grower, while a cannabis firm took took over several beer brewers.

Research from the United States into the relationship between alcohol and cannabis use is inconclusive. Some studies report that alcohol use decreased in states that allowed cannabis, while others said usage increased or didn’t significantly change. Those conflicting conclusions might reflect the complex legal situation in the United States, where cannabis remains illegal under federal law, even in states that allow its use.

In Canada, some studies indicate alcohol consumption declined slightly as medical cannabis use became more common. Did similar decreases follow recreational legalization?

To investigate this question, I first collaborated with health science researchers Daniel Myran, Robert Talarico, Jennifer Xiao and Rachael MacDonald-Spracklin to study Canada’s overall alcohol sales.

Total sales looked stable

We started our research by examining annual alcohol sales from 2004 to 2022. During that period, beer sales gradually fell, while the sale of coolers and other drinks steadily rose. That left total sales basically unchanged.

So consumers were apparently switching from beer to other beverages. But there were no obvious effects from 2018’s cannabis legalization.

This diagram shows how beer sales declined while other beverage sales increased from 2004 to 2022. Total alcohol sales remained roughly constant.
Annual Canadian beverage alcohol sales from 2004 to 2022, in litres of ethanol content per capita. The vertical gray bar marks cannabis legalization.
(Statistics Canada), CC BY-ND

We also compared monthly sales during the 12 months before legalization versus the 12 after. This included national average sales by liquor retailers and beer producers. In both cases, sales trends showed no significant changes in October 2018.

However, this research on Canada-wide sales was mainly designed to detect large changes. To find subtler ones, I focused on the province of Nova Scotia.

Some liquor stores sold cannabis

When Canada legalized cannabis, most provinces banned liquor stores from selling it to avoid tempting alcohol drinkers into trying cannabis.

Nova Scotia did the opposite. Its government-owned liquor corporation became the main cannabis retailer. After legalization in October 2018, most provincial liquor stores kept selling only alcohol, but some began selling cannabis as well.

This unique situation prompted me to study the province’s sales. I focused on the 17 months before and 17 months after legalization.

The corporation’s total alcohol sales initially fell in October 2018, then slowly regrew. As a result, monthly sales after legalization averaged about $500,000 below their earlier levels.

More interestingly, the changes differed between the cannabis-selling stores and the alcohol-only ones. At the alcohol-only stores, sales immediately fell. They averaged $800,000 below previous levels.

But at cannabis-sellers, alcohol sales began growing. Total monthly sales from October 2018 to February 2020 averaged $300,000 above earlier levels.

This diagram shows that after October 2018, alcohol sales rose gradually at liquor stores that sold cannabis but fell quickly at stores selling only alcohol.
Seasonally adjusted Nova Scotia Liquor Corporation retail sales of beverage alcohol in Canadian dollars, from May 2017 to February 2020. The vertical gray bar marks cannabis legalization.
(Nova Scotia Liquor Corporation), CC BY-ND

The divergence in sales was larger for beers than for spirits or wines.

Interestingly, alcohol-only stores located near cannabis-selling stores had changes similar to those located farther away, suggesting that cannabis-seller proximity didn’t matter.

Switching substances or stores?

My data can’t say why the sales split occurred, but I can speculate.

Consider the immediate sales drop at alcohol-only stores — this could suggest some consumers switched from alcohol to cannabis right after legalization.

Meanwhile, the lack of a drop at cannabis sellers might mean some consumers simply changed where they shopped. Instead of visiting their local alcohol-only retailer, they went to cannabis sellers to shop for alcohol and cannabis together.

The cannabis sellers’ ongoing growth might reflect people increasingly buying cannabis from licensed stores instead of illegal dealers. They went to those stores to buy weed, but picked up some extra booze while they were there.

Looking ahead

My research so far has focused on the initial post-legalization period, from October 2018 to February 2020.

I plan to study later periods next, when cannabis retailing was more widespread and perhaps more influential.

That will be more challenging, however, because COVID-19 arrived in March 2020. The pandemic disrupted sales of alcohol, though not of cannabis. It will be tricky to separate cannabis effects from pandemic ones, or from Canadian consumers’ evolving drinking habits in general.

My guess is that cannabis legalization had little short-term impact on existing drinkers overall. Most Canadians didn’t suddenly consume cannabis with their cabernet or replace vodka with vapes.

Instead, we might see gradual long-term shifts. Young Canadians now reach legal age in a context where cannabis and alcohol are both allowed. Some folks who previously would have started drinking alcohol might now choose cannabis instead, or in addition.

For now, alcohol drinking is still three times more common than cannabis use. Whether that continues, only time will tell.

The Conversation

Michael J. Armstrong 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. Alcohol sales changed subtly after Canada legalized cannabis – https://theconversation.com/alcohol-sales-changed-subtly-after-canada-legalized-cannabis-260375

New therapy teplizumab could delay type 1 diabetes by years – if caught early

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Richard Oram, Professor of Diabetes and Nephrology, University of Exeter

Dorde Krstic/Shutterstock.com

For more than a century, type 1 diabetes has meant one thing: a lifetime administering insulin. But for the first time, science is breaking that paradigm – not by managing the disease, but by intercepting it before symptoms even appear.

As the first patients in the UK begin receiving the groundbreaking new therapy, teplizumab, we are developing ways to identify who might benefit from a drug that only works if given before any symptoms appear. At the Royal Devon NHS, we are currently treating the first UK adult, Hannah Robinson, who was found to have early type 1 diabetes by chance during routine pregnancy screening.

About 10% of people with diabetes have type 1, while the remaining 90% have type 2, a condition linked to lifestyle factors where insulin is still produced but does not work properly. Type 1 diabetes is an autoimmune condition that leads to complete loss of insulin production from the pancreas. Without insulin, blood sugar levels rise dangerously, increasing the risk of blindness, kidney failure and early death.

Although type 1 is often thought of as a disease of childhood, research from the University of Exeter has highlighted that more than half of all new cases occur in adults.

For millions around the world living with type 1 diabetes, treatment to keep blood sugar in check means lifelong daily insulin. However, using insulin comes with its own risks.

If blood sugar drops too low, it can cause hypoglycaemia, or “hypos”, which in severe cases may lead to seizures or even death. It is no surprise that constantly balancing between high and low blood sugars takes a heavy toll on both physical and mental health. During her pregnancy, Robinson needed insulin and saw firsthand how “life completely revolves around balancing your blood glucose”.

Teplizumab offers a completely different approach. Instead of simply replacing insulin, it targets the immune attack that causes type 1 diabetes.

Our immune system is usually remarkably good at telling friend from foe, protecting us from infections and cancer while leaving our own organs alone. But sometimes, for reasons still not fully understood, this balance breaks down in a process known as autoimmunity. In type 1 diabetes, the immune system mistakenly attacks the pancreas, destroying insulin-producing cells.

Diabetes symptoms.

Teplizumab works by retraining the immune system and dialling down the specific cells that target the pancreas. Studies show it can delay the disease and the need for insulin therapy by two to three years, with generally mild side-effects. For Robinson, who knows all too well from pregnancy and the full-time job that is living with type 1 diabetes, the possibility of a few extra years without insulin really mattered.

The drug is already approved in the US and is under review for routine NHS use, although a few children and teenagers in the UK have also received it through special access programmes.

Finding people early

There is a catch. By the time people develop symptoms of type 1 diabetes, such as thirst, weight loss and fatigue, more than three-quarters of their insulin-producing capacity is already destroyed.

For teplizumab and similar therapies to work, they need to be given before symptoms appear, while blood sugar levels are still normal. This means these treatments are not an option for people who already have established type 1 diabetes.

So how do we find people at this early stage? Fortunately, it is possible to detect the beginnings of the autoimmune attack many years before symptoms show using simple blood tests that measure immune markers called pancreatic autoantibodies.

Just a few drops from a finger prick can reveal whether the immune system has started to target the pancreas. Finding people early not only offers the chance to delay disease progression, it can also help avoid the life-threatening emergencies that sometimes come with a first diagnosis – such as diabetic ketoacidosis.

With type 1 diabetes affecting roughly one in 200 people, there is still the question of who to test. Not everyone’s risk is the same. When we think of inherited diseases, we often imagine conditions caused by a single gene change, such as cystic fibrosis.

Type 1 diabetes does have a genetic component, but it involves many different genes, each nudging a person’s risk up or down. Having genetic risk alone is not enough, with unknown environmental factors also needed to tip the balance.

Nine in ten people who develop type 1 diabetes have no family history. While testing relatives of people with type 1 is a logical first step, research at the University of Exeter suggests that combining all these genetic factors into a single risk score could help predict who might develop the disease and identify babies who should be monitored more closely. This could become an important tool as we move towards wider genomic screening.

It is still early days, but we are seeing a fundamental shift in how we approach type 1 diabetes. For more than a century, treatment has meant patients taking on the daily burden of replacing the insulin their bodies can no longer make. Now, the focus is turning to therapies that tackle the immune problem at its source, with the hope of stopping the disease before it fully develops and opening the door to an insulin-free future.

The Conversation

Richard Oram has received research grants or contracts from Randox and Sanofi. He has also received royalties and license from Randox, consulting fees from Sanofi, Provention Bio, and Janssen and payment or honoraria from Sanofi and Novo Nordisk. He has served on data safety monitory board or advisory board for Sanofi.

Nicholas Thomas serves on an advisory boards for Sanof (manafacturer of Teplizumab) guiding the technical delivery of therapy within the NHS. He is currently employed by Exeter University as an NIHR Academic Clinical Fellow.

ref. New therapy teplizumab could delay type 1 diabetes by years – if caught early – https://theconversation.com/new-therapy-teplizumab-could-delay-type-1-diabetes-by-years-if-caught-early-259814

Nearly two-thirds of voters think Starmer doesn’t respect them – new poll

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Marc Stears, Director of UCL Policy Lab and Professor of Political Science, UCL

Simon Dawson/Number 10/Flickr, CC BY-NC-ND

Exhausted from a long campaign but buoyed by an extraordinary victory, Keir Starmer stood on the steps of Downing Street just over one year ago to deliver his victory speech. “Your government,” the new prime minister said, “should treat every single person in this country with respect.”

This message of respect resonated strongly in the year leading up to the campaign, coming as close as anything to providing a central argument to Labour’s case for government. And, according to polling and focus groups that my team at UCL Policy Lab designed along with polling company More in Common, it seemed to work.

As our research at the time showed, voters felt that “respecting ordinary people” was the most important attribute that any politician could have, more important than having ideas for the future, managing effectively or having real experience. And they thought Starmer was the leader who displayed that respect most.

A year later, the picture looks quite different. In new polling, we asked a representative sample of over 7,000 people to evaluate the government one year on. On respect, the judgement has not been good.


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During the general election campaign, 41% of the electorate said that they believed that Starmer “respected people like them”. One year on, that stands at only 24%. At the same time, the number who say that he does not respect them has risen from 32% to 63%. Starmer is now outstripped on that question by Nigel Farage – 33% say the Reform UK leader respects people like them.

Losing support

This view has had crucial political consequences. Of those who voted for Labour in the general election, only 60% of our respondents say they would vote for the party in an election held tomorrow.

And that is not because some other political party is suddenly swooping in for their supporters. Labour’s voters are defecting in a host of different directions: 11% say they would vote Reform; 8% would vote Liberal Democrat; 4% would vote Green and 4% would vote Conservative. A further one in ten say they simply don’t know how they would vote.

Labour’s losses have been most dramatic among their first-time voters. Of those who voted for Labour in 2024 but not in any other general election since 2010, barely a third still support the party, while a fifth would vote for Reform UK.

These political failures, our report contends, are directly related to the declining sense of respect. The top reason voters gave for turning away from Labour are the broken promises and U-turns made by Labour in government, followed by the party’s failure to reduce the cost of living and changes to the winter fuel payment.

The idea of “respect” being key to the public’s sense of whether a government is on their side or not has been growing for many years now, both in academia and in politics itself. Since at least the 2007/8 financial crisis there has been a sense that large swathes of the public feel neglected, overlooked and even disdained by those who govern them.

When people talk about wanting to see “change” in Britain, this is often what they mean. It was a theme I touched on recently in two books, Out of the Ordinary and, with my co-author Tom Baldwin, England.

A smiling Keir Starmer delivers his victory speech, with a crowd of supporters behind him
Just over a year ago, a happier Starmer delivers his victory speech.
Shutterstock

But respect is not just an abstract idea. People appear to judge whether they are respected by those who govern them or not primarily on the basis of whether the government stands up for them against powerful vested interests.

Our earlier research demonstrated that there is a widespread sense among the British public that certain groups have had it too easy for too long. This is either because they have been able to intimidate the government, or because government ministers and advisers have themselves been recruited from among these groups.

In our new report, therefore, we see that the new government’s most popular act was their willingness to raise the minimum wage by £1,400 in April, against the objections of some in business who suggested that such a move was too burdensome on them.

Changes to the winter fuel allowance and proposed changes to the disability benefits system, on the other hand, registered poorly. They suggest that the interests of ordinary and vulnerable people count for too little in decision-making.

These judgements currently shape the mood of the country and probably top the list of issues that the government now needs to address. There is still time for the government to rebuild its appeal, of course. Indeed, our respondents who said they would vote for Labour said they would do so because the party needs more time to fix the problems they inherited.

But as it seeks to do so, voters will want to know who this government stands for. Whose interests does it put first? What kind of people does it respect?

Much of the electorate thought they knew the answer to these questions one year ago. Now they’re not so sure.

The Conversation

Marc Stears directs the UCL Policy Lab, a non-partisan think tank based at University College London. He was previously chief speechwriter to the UK Labour Party.

ref. Nearly two-thirds of voters think Starmer doesn’t respect them – new poll – https://theconversation.com/nearly-two-thirds-of-voters-think-starmer-doesnt-respect-them-new-poll-260606

Cancellations at Canadian film festivals raise questions about accountability

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Dorit Naaman, Alliance Atlantis Professor of Film and Media, Queen’s University, Ontario

Film festivals are unique cultural institutions, spaces to see diverse films by local and global filmmakers and an important market for distributors. These films are often difficult to see, or even know about, outside of festival circuits.

Festivals are also answerable to funders and to different stakeholders’ interests. Cancellations of planned films raise questions about festivals’ roles and accountability to community groups who find certain films objectionable, the wider public, politicians, festival sponsors, audiences, filmmakers and the films themselves.

In September 2024, The Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) faced a backlash from pro-Ukrainian groups — and former deputy prime minister Chrystia Freeland, who is of Ukrainian descent — when the documentary Russians at War was included in the program.




Read more:
‘Russians at War’ documentary: From the Crimean to the Iraq War, soldier images pose questions about propaganda


The Ukrainian Canadian Congress and other advocates called on TIFF to cancel the film, directed by Russian Canadian Anastasia Trofimova, which they accused of being Russian propaganda.

TIFF did cancel festival screenings after it was “made aware of significant threats to festival operations and public safety,” but once the festival was over, showed Russians at the TIFF Lightbox Theatre.

In November, the Montréal International Documentary Festival (RIDM) cancelled the Canadian premiere of Rule of Stone, directed by Israeli Canadian director Danae Elon. As a film and media professor, I supervised Elon’s research for the film while she pursued a master’s degree at Queen’s University.

RIDM acknowledged Elon’s “personal commitment to criticizing and questioning the state of Israel” through her story about the stone that, by Israeli law, has to be used on the exterior of every new building in Jerusalem.

In the film, Elon examines how, in post-1967 Jerusalem, “architecture and stone are the main weapons in a silent, but extraordinarily effective colonization and dispossession process” of Palestinians.

As a documentarist and a researcher in Israeli and Palestinian media representations of fighters, I have analyzed both films and followed the controversies. Each focuses on contemporary political issues relevant to our understanding of current affairs.

While the reasons for the cancellations are different, in both cases the festivals responded to pressures from community groups, placing the public right to a robust debate at the festival and beyond as secondary.

‘Russians at War’

Director Anastasia Trifamova embedded herself in a Russian supply unit, and later a medical team, eventually making her way to the front lines in occupied Ukraine.

Trifamova comes across as a naive filmmaker, using an observational, non-judgmental form of filmmaking common in 21st-century war documentaries, as seen in films like Armadillo and Restrepo (respectively following Danish and U.S. troops in Afghanistan).

As noted by TIFF, Russians was “an official Canada-France co-production with funding from several Canadian agencies,” and Trifamova said she did not seek or receive official permission from the Russian army to film.

The film documents the machination of war, where soldiers are both perpetrators of violence and its victims. It humanizes the soldiers, which understandably can be upsetting to Ukrainian and pro-Ukrainian publics. But should emotions of one group, outraged and incensed as they may be, prevent the public from having the difficult conversations promoted by the film?

Early in the film, Trifamova confronts the soldiers about why they are fighting and they respond with Russian propaganda (fighting Nazism, defending the borders).

Later, soldiers approach Trifamova — on camera — to express doubts about the justification of the war and their presence in Ukraine. The film provides an unflattering view of Russia’s attack on Ukraine, emphasizing the futility of the war and the incredible toll on soldiers and civilians (including some Ukrainian civilians). Russian troops appear untrained and poorly equipped to fight in chaotically managed battles.

Like Armadillo and Restrepo, Russians at War represents the soldiers without judgment and contributes to necessary conversations about war. In my analysis, while Trifamova refrains — in her sporadic voice-over — from condemning the war outright, it is difficult to read the film as Russian propaganda.

While TIFF cited security concerns as the reason for cancellation, security was in place for another film that attracted controversy, Bliss.

A cancellation from such an established festival likely has an effect on how a film is able to circulate. For example, TVO, one of the funders of Russians at War, cancelled its scheduled broadcast days after the TIFF cancellation.

‘Rule of Stone’

Rule of Stone, as noted by RDIM, “critically examines the colonialist project of East Jerusalem following its conquest by Israeli forces in 1967.”

The title references a colonial bylaw to clad building with stone, first introduced by the British, which still exists today.

The film, which examines architecture’s role in creating modern Jerusalem, is led by Elon’s voice-over. It mixes her memories of growing up in 1970s Jerusalem and her reckoning with the “frenzy of building,” which included projects by architect Moshe Safdie, a citizen of Israel, Canada and the United States. Elon recounts that her father, journalist and author Amos Elon, was a close friend of Safdie, as well as legendary Jerusalem mayor Teddy Kolek.

Safdie is among the Israeli architects, architectural historians and planners who Elon interviews. The expansion of Jewish neighbourhoods is contrasted with the restrictions on and disposession of Palestinians in Jerusalem. Multiple scenes show the demolition of Palestinian homes or the aftermath. In intervwoven segments, Izzat Ziadah, a Palestinian stonemason who lives in a stone quarry, gives a tour of what is left of his destroyed home.

Viewers hear how the planning, expansion and building of Jewish neighbourhoods, post-1967, were designed to evoke biblical times. As architectural historian Zvi Efrat notes, the new neighbourhoods look like, or attempt to look like, they were there forever.

‘Rule of Stone’ trailer.

As reported by La Presse, the RIDM cancellation came after the festival received information about the documentary’s partial Israeli financing, something that “embarrassed” them with some of the festival’s partners. Funding for the development of the film came from the Makor Foundation for Israeli Films, which receives support from Israel’s Ministry of Culture and Sport.

Two organizations, the Palestinian Film Institute and Regards Palestiniens, opposed the film’s showing on the basis of their commitment to the Palestinian Campaign for the Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel (PACBI).

In the organizations’ logic, Israel state funding means a film should be subject to boycott as “PACBI specifically targets Israeli institutional funding in the arts which serves to culturally whitewash and legitimize the Israeli state.”

In my view, this position differs from the PACBI guidelines, which state:

“As a general overriding rule, Israeli cultural institutions, unless proven otherwise, are complicit in maintaining the Israeli occupation and denial of basic Palestinian rights, whether through their silence or actual involvement in justifying, whitewashing or otherwise deliberately diverting attention from Israel’s violations of international law and human rights.”

Makor should be exempted since it regularly funds films that draw attention to Israel’s violations of Palestinian human rights. In 2024 alone, the list includes The Governor, The Village League and Death in Um al hiran.

RIDM’s website does not disclose support for a boycott. In the end, RIDM announced that Elon withdrew her film. She stated: “Screening my film at RIDM does not serve the long-term purpose of the festival, nor is it possible now to address the nuances in our common fight for justice for Palestine. I am deeply saddened and distressed by [what] has brought it to this point.”

To date, the film has not found a cinema in Montréal willing to screen it.

Provoking important conversations

The two festivals’ mission statements promise high-quality films that transform or renew audiences’ relationships to the world.

It is clear why programmers chose both films, since they’re cinematically innovative and provoke important conversations.

However, both festivals silenced these films and signalled to other filmmakers that these festivals are not brave spaces to have difficult and necessary conversations.

The Conversation

Dorit Naaman 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. Cancellations at Canadian film festivals raise questions about accountability – https://theconversation.com/cancellations-at-canadian-film-festivals-raise-questions-about-accountability-250892