Netflix-Warner deal would drive streaming market further down the road of ‘Big 3’ domination

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By David R. King, Higdon Professor of Management, Florida State University

Netflix’s Hollywood studio offices at Sunset Bronson Studios in Los Angeles. Patrick T. Fallon / AFP via Getty Images

When it comes to major U.S. industries, three tends to be the magic number.

Historically, auto manufacturing was long dominated by Chrysler, Ford and General Motors – the so-called “Big Three,” which at one point controlled over 60% of the U.S. auto market. A dominant trio shows up elsewhere, too, in everything from the U.S. defense market – think Lockheed Martin, Boeing and Northrup Grumman – to cellphone service providers (AT&T, T-Mobile and Verizon). The same goes for the U.S. airline industry in which American, Delta and United fly higher than the rest.

The rule of three also applies to what Americans watch; the glory days of television was dominated by three giants: ABC, CBS and NBC.

Now, in the digital age, we are rapidly moving to a “Big Three” dominating streaming services: Netflix, Amazon and Disney.

The latest step in that process is Netflix’s plan to acquire Warner Bros. for US$72 billion. If approved, the move would solidify Netflix as the dominant streaming platform.

When streams converge

Starting life as a mail DVD subscription service, Netflix moved into streaming movies and TV shows in 2007, becoming a first-mover into the sphere.

Being an early adopter as viewing went from cable and legacy to online and streaming gave Netflix an advantages in also developing support technology and using subscriber data to create new content.

The subsequent impact was Netflix became a market leader, with quarterly profits now far exceeding its competitors, which often report losses.

Today, even without the Warner Bros. acquisition, Netflix has a dominant global base of over 300 million subscribers. Amazon Prime comes second with roughly 220 million subscribers, and Disney – which includes both Disney+ and Hulu – is third, with roughly 196 million subscribers. This means that between them, these three companies already control over 60% of the streaming market.

Netflix’s lead would only be reinforced by the proposed deal with Warner Bros., as it would add ownership of Warner subsidiary HBO Max, which is currently the fourth-biggest streamer in the U.S. with a combined 128 million subscribers. While some of them will overlap, Netflix is likely to still gain subscribers and better retain them with a broader selection of content.

Netflix’s move to acquire Warner Bros. also follows prior entertainment industry consolidation, driven by a desire to control content to retain streaming service subscribers.

In 2019, Disney acquired 21st Century Fox for $71.3 billion. Three years later, Amazon acquired Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer for $8.5 billion.

Should the Netflix deal go through, it would continue this trend of streaming consolidation. It would also leave a clear gap at the top between the emerging Big Three and other services, such as Paramount+ with 79 million subscribers and Apple TV+, which has around 45 million. Paramount+ was also a rival bidder for Warner Bros., and while it is protesting Netflix’s deal for Warner Bros., it likely will need to pursue other options to remain relevant in streaming.

Why industries come in threes

But why do industries converge to a handful of companies?

As an expert on mergers, I know the answer comes down to market forces relating to competition, which tends to drive consolidation of an industry into three to five firms.

From a customer perspective, there is a need for multiple options. Having more than one option avoids monopolistic practices that can see prices fixed at a higher rate. Competition between more than one big player is also a strong incentive for additional innovation to improve a product or service.

For these reasons, governments – in the U.S. and over 100 other countries – have antitrust laws and practices to avoid any industry displaying limited competition.

However, as industries become more stable, growth tends to slow and remaining businesses are forced to compete over a largely fixed market. This can separate companies into industry leaders and laggards. While leaders enjoy greater stability and predictable profits, laggards struggle to remain profitable.

Lagging companies often combine to increase their market share and reduce costs.

The result is that consolidating industries quite often land on three main players as a source of stability – one or two risks falling into the pitfalls of monopolies and duopolies, while many more than three to five can struggle to be profitable in mature industries.

What’s ahead for the laggards

The long-term viability of companies outside the “Big Three” streamers is in doubt, as the main players get bigger and smaller companies are unable to offer as much content.

A temporary solution for smaller streamers to gain subscribers is to offer teaser rates that later increase for people that forget to cancel until companies take more permanent steps. But lagging services will also face increased pressure to exit streaming by licensing content to the leading streaming services, cease operations or sell their services and content.

Additionally, companies outside the Big Three could be tempted to acquire smaller services in an attempt to maintain market share.

There are already rumors that Paramount, which was a competing bidder for Warner Bros., may seek to acquire Starz or create a joint venture with Universal, which owns Peacock.

Apple shows no immediate plan of discontinuing Apple TV+, but that may be due to the company’s high profitability and an overall cash flow that limits pressures to end its streaming service.

Still, if the Netflix-Warner Bros. deal completes, it will likely increase the valuation of other lagging streaming services due to increased scarcity of valuable content and subscribers. This is due to competitive limits that restrict the Big Three from getting bigger, making the combination of smaller streaming services more valuable.

This is reinforced by shareholders expecting similar or greater premiums from prior deals, driving the need to pay higher prices for the fewer remaining available assets.

The cost to consumers

So what does this all mean for consumers?

I believe that in general, consumers will largely not be impacted when it comes to the overall cost of entertainment, as inflationary pressures for food and housing limit available income for streaming services.

But where they access content will continue to shift away from cable television and movie theaters.

Greater stability in the streaming industry through consolidation into a Big Three model only confirms the decline in traditional cable.

Netflix’s rationale in acquiring Warner Bros. is likely to enable it to offer streaming at a lower price than the combined price of separate subscriptions, but more than Netflix alone.

This could be achieved through additional subscription tiers for Netflix subscribers wanting to add HBO Max content. Beyond competition with other members of the “Big Three,” another reason why Netflix is unlikely to raise prices significantly is that it will likely commit to not doing so in order to get the merger approved.

Netflix’s goal is to ensure it remains consumer’s first choice for streaming TV and films. So while streaming is fast becoming a Big Three industry, Netflix’s plan is to remain at the top of the triangle.

The Conversation

David R. King does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Netflix-Warner deal would drive streaming market further down the road of ‘Big 3’ domination – https://theconversation.com/netflix-warner-deal-would-drive-streaming-market-further-down-the-road-of-big-3-domination-271466

What 38 million obituaries reveal about how Americans define a ‘life well lived’

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Stylianos Syropoulos, Assistant Professor of Psychology, Arizona State University

Obituaries provide a window into the prevailing traditions and moral values of their time. alexmillos/iStock via Getty Images Plus

Obituaries preserve what families most want remembered about the people they cherish most. Across time, they also reveal the values each era chose to honor.

In a study published in the journal Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, we analyzed 38 million obituaries of Americans published from 1998 to 2024. We identified the values families most often highlight, and how those values shift across generations, regions and major historical events.

Specifically, working with psychologists Liane Young and Thomas Mazzuchi, we examined the language used on Legacy.com, an online platform where families often post obituaries and share memories of loved ones.

During their lifetime, most people tend to be guided by a small set of broad values like caring for others, honoring tradition, keeping loved ones safe and seeking personal growth. To understand how these values showed up in remembrance, we used text-analysis tools built on curated lists of everyday words people use when talking about those themes.

By analyzing the words that appeared again and again in memorials, we could see which values communities chose to emphasize when looking back on the lives of their loved ones, and how those patterns changed over time. Because the dataset included 38 million obituaries, the analysis ran on a supercomputer.

Across nearly 30 years of obituaries, words related to the value “tradition” appeared most often – many tributes described religious participation and enduring customs. Words related to the value “benevolence” – caring for the welfare of others – were also consistently prominent. In fact, tradition and benevolence formed the dominant value profile across the dataset: They appeared in more than 70% of the obituaries. By contrast, words related to values like “achievement” and “power” appeared far less often.

Historical events did leave a mark. After the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, the language families used to remember loved ones shifted compared with the period just before the attacks – and those shifts persisted for at least a year. Words related to the value “security” – including terms like “surviving,” “health” and “order” – showed up less often. At the same time, families used more language related to values like “benevolence” and “tradition.” Terms like “caring,” “loyal” and “service” showed up more often. These changes were especially strong in New York, where the attacks had the most direct impact.

COVID-19, however, produced the most dramatic shifts. Beginning in March 2020, benevolence-related language – including terms like “love,” “sympathy” and “family” – declined sharply, and hasn’t been the same since. Tradition-related language – terms like “service,” “faith” and “heritage” – initially declined as well, then rose above baseline levels during later stages of the pandemic.

These changes show that collective disruptions impact the moral vocabulary families use when commemorating loved ones. They shift what it means to have lived a good life.

We also saw differences that reflect stereotypes about gender and age. Obituaries for men contained more language linked to achievement, conformity and power. Meanwhile, obituaries for women contained more language associated with benevolence and enjoying life’s pleasures.

An elderly woman works on a laptop, looking grim, with a bouquet of flowers behind it.
There are notable differences in the values highlighted in obituaries of older versus younger adults.
AWelshLad/iStock / Getty Images Plus

Older adults were often remembered more for valuing tradition. Younger adults, on the other hand, were often remembered more for valuing the welfare of all people and nature, and for being motivated to think and act independently. Value patterns in men’s obituaries shifted more across the lifespan than those in women’s. In other words, the values highlighted in younger and older men’s obituaries differed more from each other, while women’s value profiles stayed relatively consistent across age.

Why it matters

The most visited parts of print newspapers and online memorial sites, obituaries offer a window into what societies value at different points in time.

This study contributes to the broader scientific understanding of legacy. People often hold strong preferences about how they want to be remembered, but far less is known about how they actually are remembered, in part because large-scale evidence about real memorials is rare. Our analysis of millions of obituaries helps fill that gap.

What’s next

Obituaries allow researchers to trace cultural values across time, geography and social groups. Future work can examine differences across race and occupation, as well as across regions. It could also look to earlier periods using historical obituary archives, such as those preserved in older newspapers and local records.

Another direction is to examine whether highlighting how often kindness shows up in obituaries could inspire people to be more caring in daily life.

Understanding what endures in memory helps clarify what people consider meaningful; those values shape how they choose to live.

The Research Brief is a short take on interesting academic work.

The Conversation

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

ref. What 38 million obituaries reveal about how Americans define a ‘life well lived’ – https://theconversation.com/what-38-million-obituaries-reveal-about-how-americans-define-a-life-well-lived-263880

Merry Jewish Christmas: How Chinese food and the movies became a time-honored tradition for American Jews

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Samira Mehta, Associate Professor of Women and Gender Studies & Jewish Studies, University of Colorado Boulder

Chinese food has become a staple of many Jewish Americans’ traditions each Dec. 25. Christina Horsten/picture alliance via Getty Images

There is a meme that circulates every holiday season, an image of a sign in a restaurant window. “The Chinese Restaurant Association of the United States would like to extend our thanks to the Jewish people,” it says. “We do not completely understand your dietary customs … but we are proud and grateful that your GOD insists you eat our food on Christmas.”

Is the sign real? Perhaps not; the fact-checking site Snopes found no evidence of the association even existing. But the joke’s popularity points to a tradition cherished by many American Jews – Chinese food on Christmas.

But why would Jews, who do not celebrate Christmas, have Christmas traditions?

Like many minority groups, Jews have always created ways of adapting to the societies in which they live, but whose culture they do not totally share. And one thing that means is a collection of Christmas traditions, varying by time and place. Many of them came up in interviews for my book “Beyond Chrismukkah: The Christian-Jewish Interfaith Family in the United States.”

Old World festivities

Long before Jews came to the United States, some of them celebrated Christmas – participating in many of the cultural traditions, even as they avoided the religious part of the holiday.

According to Jordan Chad, author of “Christmas in Yiddish Tradition,” Jewish folklore about the holiday appears as early as the late 1300s. Plenty of Jewish communities in Europe spent Christmas Eve dancing and drinking, feasting and gambling – as many of their Christian neighbors did, when those neighbors were not in church.

Other scholars have argued that these traditions grew out of attempts to avoid studying Jewish religious texts on a Christian holiday. But Chad demonstrates that, over centuries, those customs came to celebrate the revelry of the season – though not the birth of Jesus.

Even in the 20th century, scholars such as Yaniv Feller have found, many middle- and upper-class German Jews embraced a secular Christmas, complete with a tree, a traditional dinner and presents. After all, some of those Christmas traditions stem less from religion than folk traditions and industrialization.

A blue light in the shape of a Star of David sits atop a small bit of greenery.
Some Jewish families decorate a ‘Hanukkah bush’ as a seasonal alternative to a Christmas tree.
Smith Collection/Gado/Getty Images

Given that long history, Jewish Christmas traditions are not necessarily a sign of Americanization.

That said, in the United States, Christmas is so culturally powerful – a day that almost everyone has off, and that the majority of Americans spend with their kith and kin – that many non-Christian immigrants celebrate it in a secular way, with family visits, Santa and a tree. They do not necessarily do the religious parts of the holiday, but they may well deck the halls. Certainly, my own Hindu relatives do.

And many Jews celebrate Christmas in some way because they are part of interfaith families – whether their own immediate family or extended relatives with whom they spend the day. Today, estimates place the American Jewish interfaith marriage rate as high as 50%.

Kosher-style Chinese

For plenty of contemporary Jews, however, it is profoundly important not to celebrate a secular version of Christmas. Starting in the 1970s, in fact, when American Jews were particularly worried about rising rates of interfaith marriage, many of the rabbis willing to perform ceremonies for Jewish-Christian couples made them promise to not have a Christmas tree. This happened despite the fact that, at the time, many American Jews did have Christmas trees in their homes.

Even if Jews do not want to deck the halls, though, many still have the day off. Meanwhile, their non-Jewish friends, families and co-workers are busy and much of the world is closed. And so many Jews have developed their own ways of marking the day.

The Chinese food tradition is particularly famous. In fact, during Supreme Court Justice Elena Kagan’s 2010 confirmation hearings, when Republican Sen. Lindsey Graham asked her where she had been on Christmas Day, she responded, “Like all Jews, I was probably at a Chinese restaurant.”

Elena Kagan’s Senate confirmation hearings made mention of the famous tradition.

The first written mention of Jews eating Chinese food on Christmas Day comes from 1935, when, according to The New York Times, a man named Eng Shee Chuck brought chow mein and toys to a New Jersey Jewish orphanage.

His generosity was probably not why Jews started going to Chinese restaurants on Christmas; it is more likely that they were already doing so. The two communities lived cheek by jowl in many American cities, where immigrants of different sorts ended up in the same neighborhoods. And Chinese food contains little dairy, meaning it rarely violated Jewish dietary laws against mixing milk and meat.

Most Chinese cuisines do use pork and shrimp, which is forbidden by kosher laws. But many Jewish customers were happy to make an exception, especially if the forbidden food was tucked in a dumpling or otherwise out of sight – at least outside their own homes.

As new research by New York University graduate student Shiyong Lu demonstrates, Chinese restaurants were also eager to cater to American Jews: They wanted to develop white, American clientele, and here were some right in their neighborhoods.

As restaurant owners learned that Jews often eschewed pork, some began to offer traditional dishes with chicken instead – allowing more observant Jews to eat “kosher style,” without eating explicitly forbidden food. Today, there is wide variation in Jewish dietary practices, making Chinese food even more accessible for most Jews.

A black and white photograph of two men in suit jackets and Jewish head coverings seated at a table with signs on the wall.
Two men enjoy Chinese cuisine, prepared under kosher guidelines, around 1960.
Bettmann via Getty Images

By the end of the 20th century, “Chinese food and a movie” had become the trope of Jewish Christmas. Because most Chinese immigrants were not Christian, their restaurants are often open on Dec. 25. And indeed, they are often filled with Jews.

Movies, volunteering and more

The same tends to be true for movie theaters. In 2012, I saw “Les Misérables” on Christmas Day in a theater that seemed to be a who’s who of the Atlanta Jewish community. In fact, the movies and the Chinese food are often paired, whether out on the town or at home, streaming with take out.

Jewish museums are often open and are another popular destination in cities that have them. And some Jews use Christmas Day for travel. At least in eras past, plane tickets were notably cheaper than the days around the holiday.

Another Jewish Christmas tradition is simply to go to work, so as to let Christian colleagues have the day off. Many Jewish doctors and nurses are on call, or staff the emergency room or the intensive care unit, so that their colleagues can be home.

A man in blue protective equipment enters a room off of a corridor with a Christmas tree decorated in red ribbon, homemade ornaments, and a medical mask.
A Christmas tree is decorated with the pandemic in mind in the COVID-19 ICU at UMass Memorial Medical Center in Worcester, Mass., in December 2020.
Craig F. Walker/The Boston Globe via Getty Images

Still other Jews perform charitable deeds on Christmas: They staff soup kitchens and food banks, bring holiday cheer to nursing homes and hospital patients, or deliver gifts to children in shelters.

Living in a culture that largely closes down each Dec. 25, many Jews have found ways of making meaning in the day – be that sharing family time over beef and broccoli, followed by a holiday blockbuster, or working to make sure that more of their colleagues can have a family day. And those, too, are Christmas traditions.

The Conversation

Samira Mehta receives funding from the Henry Luce Foundation.

ref. Merry Jewish Christmas: How Chinese food and the movies became a time-honored tradition for American Jews – https://theconversation.com/merry-jewish-christmas-how-chinese-food-and-the-movies-became-a-time-honored-tradition-for-american-jews-270131

Putting pig organs in people is OK in the US, but growing human organs in pigs is not – why is that?

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Monika Piotrowska, Associate Professor of Philosophy, University at Albany, State University of New York

While research on human-pig chimeras is on an indefinite pause, xenotransplantation is moving ahead. wildpixel/iStock via Getty Images Plus

In a Maryland operating room one day in November 2025, doctors made medical history by transplanting a genetically modified pig kidney into a living patient. The kidney had been engineered to mimic human tissue and was grown in a pig, as an alternative to waiting around for a human organ donor who might never come. For decades, this idea lived at the edge of science fiction. Now it’s on the table, literally.

The patient is one of six taking part in the first clinical trial of pig-to-human kidney transplants. The goal: to see whether gene-edited pig kidneys can safely replace failing human ones.

A decade ago, scientists were chasing a different solution. Instead of editing the genes of pigs to make their organs human-friendly, they tried to grow human organs – made entirely of human cells – inside pigs. But in 2015 the National Institutes of Health paused funding for that work to consider its ethical risks. The pause remains today.

As a bioethicist and philosopher who has spent years studying the ethics of using organs grown in animals – including serving on an NIH-funded national working group examining oversight for research on human-animal chimeras – I was perplexed by the decision. The ban assumed the danger was making pigs too human. Yet regulators now seem comfortable making humans a little more pig.

Why is it considered ethical to put pig organs in humans but not to grow human organs in pigs?

Urgent need drives xenotransplantation

It’s easy to overlook the desperation driving these experiments. More than 100,000 Americans are waiting for organ transplants. Demand overwhelms supply, and thousands die each year before one becomes available.

For decades, scientists have looked across species for help – from baboon hearts in the 1960s to genetically altered pigs today. The challenge has always been the immune system. The body treats cells it does not recognize as part of itself as invaders. As a result, it destroys them.

A recent case underscores this fragility. A man in New Hampshire received a gene-edited pig kidney in January 2025. Nine months later, it had to be removed because its function was declining. While this partial success gave scientists hope, it was also a reminder that rejection remains a central problem for transplanting organs across species, also known as xenotransplantation.

Decades of research have led to the first clinical trial of pig kidney transplants.

Researchers are attempting to work around transplant rejection by creating an organ the human body might tolerate, inserting a few human genes and deleting some pig ones. Still, recipients of these gene-edited pig organs need powerful drugs to suppress the immune system both during and long after the transplant procedure, and even this may not prevent rejection. Even human-to-human transplants require lifelong immunosuppressants.

That’s why another approach – growing organs from a patient’s own cells – looked promising. This involved disabling the genes that let pig embryos form a kidney and injecting human stem cells into the embryo to fill the gap where a kidney would be. As a result, the pig embryo would grow a kidney genetically matched to a future patient, theoretically eliminating the risk of rejection.

Although simple in concept, the execution is technically complex because human and pig cells develop at different speeds. Even so, five years prior to the NIH ban, researchers had already done something similar by growing a mouse pancreas inside a rat.

Cross-species organ growth was not a fantasy – it was a working proof of concept.

Ethics of creating organs in other species

The worries motivating the NIH ban in 2015 on inserting human stem cells into animal embryos did not come from concerns about scientific failure but rather from moral confusion.

Policymakers feared that human cells might spread through the animal’s body – even into its brain – and in so doing blur the line between human and animal. The NIH warned of possible “alterations of the animal’s cognitive state.” The Animal Legal Defense Fund, an animal advocacy organization, argued that if such chimeras gained humanlike awareness, they should be treated as human research subjects.

The worry centers on the possibility that an animal’s moral status – that is, the degree to which an entity’s interests matter morally and the level of protection it is owed – might change. Higher moral status requires better treatment because it comes with vulnerability to greater forms of harm.

Think of the harm caused by poking an animal that’s sentient compared to the harm caused by poking an animal that’s self-conscious. A sentient animal – that is, one capable of experiencing sensations such as pain or pleasure – would sense the pain and try to avoid it. In contrast, an animal that’s self-conscious – that is, one capable of reflecting on having those experiences – would not only sense the pain but grasp that it is itself the subject of that pain. The latter kind of harm is deeper, involving not just sensation but awareness.

Thus, the NIH’s concern is that if human cells migrate into an animal’s brain, they might introduce new forms of experience and suffering, thereby elevating its moral status.

Close-up of piglets moving between bars
How human do pigs need to be for them to be considered part of the human species?
AP Photo/Shelby Lum

The flawed logic of the NIH ban

However, the reasoning behind the NIH’s ban is faulty. If certain cognitive capacities, such as self-consciousness, conferred higher moral status, then it follows that regulators would be equally concerned about inserting dolphin or primate cells into pigs as they are about inserting human cells. They are not.

In practice, the moral circle of beings whose interests matter is drawn not around self-consciousness but around species membership. Regulators protect all humans from harmful research because they are human, not because of their specific cognitive capacities such as the ability to feel pain, use language or engage in abstract reasoning. In fact, many people lack such capacities. Moral concern flows from that relationship, not from having a particular form of awareness. No research goal can justify violating the most basic interests of human beings.

If a pig embryo infused with human cells truly became something close enough to count as a member of the human species, then current research regulations would dictate it’s owed human-level regard. But the mere presence of human cells doesn’t make pigs humans.

The pigs engineered for kidney transplants already carry human genes, but they aren’t called half-human beings. When a person donates a kidney, the recipient doesn’t become part of the donor’s family. Yet current research policies treat a pig with a human kidney as if it might.

There may be good reasons to object to using animals as living organ factories, including welfare concerns. But the rationale behind the NIH ban that human cells could make pigs too human rests on a misunderstanding of what gives beings – and human beings in particular – moral standing.

The Conversation

Monika Piotrowska does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Putting pig organs in people is OK in the US, but growing human organs in pigs is not – why is that? – https://theconversation.com/putting-pig-organs-in-people-is-ok-in-the-us-but-growing-human-organs-in-pigs-is-not-why-is-that-270562

In Kyiv, I saw how art can help hold a city together in the shadow of war

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Kathrin Maurer, Professor, Department of Cultural and Linguistic Studies, University of Southern Denmark

It’s 2:44 am. An air siren cuts through the clear night sky over Kyiv and into my sleep. Heart pounding, I rise out of bed in my seventh-floor room of the Hotel Rus. Feeling like I’m on autopilot, I walk down the stairs to the bomb shelter. Chairs are lined up in orderly rows in this basement that was once a gym. But only one elderly man in jogging pants with a travel cushion around his neck sits here.

I quietly take a seat next to him and try to figure out the threat level on my newly installed Kyiv Air Alert App. The air threat persists, but tonight people seem to have decided that sleep is more important. I, too, resolve to return to my room. I have to be awake for my lecture tomorrow at the Pinchuk Art Centre, a well-known international museum for contemporary art in Kyiv.

The lecture is the reason I am in Kyiv. As a professor of culture and technology at the University of Southern Denmark, I was invited to speak about my research on drone art.

Drone art is about using artistic practices to explore, question and reflect on military drones. Being asked to give a talk about this in Ukraine felt like a rare and important opportunity – and I didn’t hesitate to say yes.

The next day, I have some time before my talk. I take a stroll along the boulevards and the grand neoclassical buildings in the centre of Kyiv. People are out in cafes, bars and restaurants. The bustling shops are crowded with customers.

Where is the war on this blue-sky day in Kyiv, one might wonder.

But the war is here, constantly.

I spot groups of soldiers in camouflage standing on the street. A man on crutches, who carefully crosses a road junction. Statues encased in sandbags and boarded up – sheltered from air raids.

Kyiv’s central square, Maidan Square, is awash with flags and portraits commemorating fallen soldiers. The air is filled with the constant roar of generators that provide electricity during ongoing power outages.

In the evening, I finally stand in the lecture hall of the Pinchuk Art Centre to give my presentation. Young people, art students, curators, artists and older generations sit in the audience.

What can I tell them about drones – those for whom remote warfare has become a daily reality?

I talk about art, about military drones, about technology, about loss. I focus on the Ukrainian artist Lesia Khomenko, whose large format oil and acrylic works are on show in the museum.

Her painting “I’m a Bullet” (2024) is striking, as it shows the perspective of a kamikaze drone before it hits its target.

The painting is abstract, and its white, expressive brush strokes give you an impression of an explosion. Khomenko’s art does not represent iconic images of war; her work engages with questions of how remote sensing technology dehumanises the subject and raises ethical questions about how we, as an audience, “watch” war.

The search for a non-iconic visual language of war is also shared by the Ukrainian filmmakers Yarema Malashchuk and Roman Khimei.

Their recent work “Four Seasons” (2025) is a four-channel film that shows a small drone hitting a window in a living room and making a buzzing noise. Its manoeuvres echo Ukrainian youths practising drone piloting at home to prepare for possible conscription.

Yarema Malashchuk and Roman Khimei, Four Seasons (2025). With permission of the artists.

After my lecture, a woman who sat in the front row and eagerly took notes approached me: “My son was killed by a Russian drone strike”. We look at each other in silence. I try to find words. She gives me a slight smile and says: “Thank you for coming to Kyiv. Engaging with art can be a lifeline”. And then she hastily leaves the room.

Staying connected to life

During my time in Kyiv, in my conversations with the artists, curators and people I meet, I’m told time and again how creating or engaging with art builds resilience – how art helps people get through crisis and how art helps communities stay connected to life.

The sold-out opera houses, concert halls and theatres are proof of that. And although museums have had to protect part of their collections in shelters, they are open, and people flock to the exhibits.

On my departure day, I sit on the early morning train to Warsaw – 16 hours ahead, no flights in or out of Kyiv these days. Through the train window, birch trees pass in a blur, as we traverse snow-covered fields and quiet villages.

During the past few days, the war came closer to me than ever. It is as though I can feel it in my body, although I have only been in Kyiv for 72 hours.

I have the privilege of returning to a place of peace. Others do not.

The war does not stop at the border – it touches all of us in ways seen and unseen. In the spaces of art and culture, we can pause, reflect, and hold in our minds the lives and stories that demand to be remembered.


This article was commissioned as part of a partnership between Videnskab.dk and The Conversation.

The Conversation

This article was commissioned as part of a partnership between Videnskab.dk and The Conversation.

ref. In Kyiv, I saw how art can help hold a city together in the shadow of war – https://theconversation.com/in-kyiv-i-saw-how-art-can-help-hold-a-city-together-in-the-shadow-of-war-269129

Why OpenAI is a prime example of the ethical limits of capitalism

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Nikhil Venkatesh, Leverhulme Early Career Fellow, University of Sheffield

izzuanroslan/Shutterstock

As OpenAI marks its tenth birthday in December 2025, it can celebrate becoming one of the world’s leading companies, worth perhaps as much as US$1 trillion (£750 billion). But it started as a non-profit with a serious moral mission – and its story demonstrates the difficulty of combining morality with capitalism.

The firm recently became a “public benefit corporation”, meaning that – in addition to performing some sort of pubic good – it now has a duty to make money for its shareholders, such as Microsoft.

That’s quite a change from the original set up.

Influenced by a movement known as “effective altruism”, a project which tries to find the most effective ways of helping others, OpenAI’s initial mission was to “ensure that artificial general intelligence […] benefits all of humanity” – including preventing rogue AI systems from enslaving or extinguishing the human race.

Being a non-profit was central to that mission. If pushing AI in dangerous directions was the best way to make money, a profit-seeking company would do it, but a non-profit wouldn’t. As CEO Sam Altman said in 2017: “We don’t ever want to be making decisions to benefit shareholders. The only people we want to be accountable to is humanity as a whole.”

So what changed?

Some argue that the company simply sold out – that Altman and his colleagues faced a choice between making a fortune or sticking to their principles, and took the money. (Many of OpenAI’s founders and early employees chose to leave the company instead.)

But there is another explanation. Perhaps OpenAI realised that to fulfil its moral mission, it needed to make money. After all, AI is a very expensive business, and OpenAI’s rivals – the likes of Google, Amazon and Meta – are vast corporations with deep pockets.

To have a chance of influencing AI development in a positive direction, OpenAI had to compete with them. To compete, it needed investment. And it’s hard to attract investment with no prospect of profit.

As Altman said of a previous adjustment towards profit-making: “We had tried and failed enough to raise the money as a non-profit. We didn’t see a path forward there. So we needed some of the benefits of capitalism.”

Capitalist competition

But along with the benefits of capitalism come constraints. What Karl Marx called the “coercive laws of competition” mean that in a competitive market, businesses have little choice but to put profit first, whatever their moral principles.

Indeed, if they choose not to do something profitable out of moral concerns, they know they’ll be replaced by a less scrupulous firm which will. This means not only that they fail as a business, but that they fail in their moral mission too.

The philosopher Iris Marion Young, illustrated this paradox with the example of a sweatshop owner who claims that they would love to treat their workers better. But the cost of improved pay and conditions would make them less competitive, meaning they lose out to rivals who treat their workers even worse. So being kinder to their workers would not do any good.

Similarly, had OpenAI held back from releasing ChatGPT due to worries about energy usage or self-harm or misinformation, it would probably have lost market share to another company. This in turn would have made it harder to raise the investment it needed to fulfil their mission of shaping AI development for good.

So in effect, even when its moral mission was supposedly paramount (before it became a public benefit corporation), OpenAI was already acting like a for-profit firm. It needed to, to stay competitive.

The recent legal transition just makes this official. The fact that a nonprofit board dedicated to the moral mission retains some control over the company in principle is unlikely to stop the drive to profit in practice. Marx’s coercive laws of competition squeeze morality out of business.

Marx and Milton

If Marx is capitalism’s most famous critic, perhaps its most famous cheerleader was the economist Milton Friedman.

Partial view of Karl Mark bronze statue.
Karl and coercion.
christianthiel.net/Shutterstock

But Friedman actually agreed with Marx that business and morals are difficult to mix. In 1971, he wrote that business executives have only one social responsibility: to make profit for shareholders.

Pursuing any other goal would be spending other people’s money on their own private principles. And in a competitive market, Friedman argued, businesspeople will find that customers and investors can quickly switch to other companies “less scrupulous in exercising their social responsibilities”.

All of this suggests that we cannot expect businesses to do as OpenAI originally promised, and put humanity before shareholder value. Even if it tries, the coercive laws of competition will force it to seek profit.

Friedman and Marx would have further agreed that we need other types of institutions to look after humanity. Though Friedman was mostly sceptical about the state, the AI arms race is precisely the kind of case that even he recognised required government regulation.

For Marx, the solution is more radical: replacing the coercive laws of competition with a more co-operative economic system. And my own research suggests that safeguarding the future of humanity may indeed require some restraining of capitalism , to allow tech workers time to develop safe and ethical technologies together, free from the pressures of the market.

The Conversation

Nikhil Venkatesh 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. Why OpenAI is a prime example of the ethical limits of capitalism – https://theconversation.com/why-openai-is-a-prime-example-of-the-ethical-limits-of-capitalism-270407

It’s so hard to resist overspending at Christmas – here’s how to reinforce your willpower

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Samantha Brooks, Associate Professor of Cognitive Neuroscience, Liverpool John Moores University

Eterna Images/Shutterstock

We often throw caution to the cold, dark wind of December when it comes to spending. The cost-of-living crisis may slip our minds amid the razzle-dazzle of Christmas. We just want a moment to enjoy ourselves, to forget about the winter gloom. It’s natural for us to behave this way. Our brains are wired for it.

People in the UK spend on average an extra £700 at Christmas. The UK Office for National Statistics show increases of between 15% and 100% in the sale of books, music, computers, phones and electrical products, clothing and shoes, cosmetics and toiletries, food and alcohol in December.

But neuromarketing, a field of neuroscience that understands the way our brains respond to products, can help us to resist the urge to overspend.

The reasons we buy so much at Christmas are largely unconscious and emotional. For example, our brains are wired to avoid being left out. Social bonds were vital to our ancestors’ survival so when everyone else seems to be buying stuff and enjoying themselves at Christmas, we are motivated by evolutionary impulses to want to join in.

Our desire for new things, even when they have no intrinsic value, has evolutionary roots too. Finding and keeping new information and objects make us feel like we’re reducing uncertainties about the future. So marketing a product as the “latest” version of its kind can make it seem irresistible.




Read more:
Christmas consumption – what would the great economic philosophers think?


Brain signals (neurotransmitters) alter our behaviour too. Dopamine drives our motivation and impulsivity for rewards. Oxytocin drives our sense of belonging, which can be stimulated by buying the same things as our friends. And cortisol levels may rise if we fear missing out.

Woman lying on living room floor with laptop holding a bank card, Christmas tree in background
Is she going to stick to her Christmas budget?
Geber86/Shutterstock

These neurotransmitters direct our gaze when we look at adverts of products, holding our attention and then making us want to feel the reward of buying. In July 2025, researchers reviewed three years of eye-tracking data of study participants looking at the top 50 most attention-grabbing Christmas ads. They found heart-rending stories are great for capturing our attention, which make us more likely to buy the product. Images featuring emotional icons and cues such as popular celebrities, or lovable cartoon characters distract us. Distraction is known to stop us thinking about future goals (like saving money).

Why your willpower seems to evaporate

The 1970 Marshmallow Test on delayed gratification, developed by psychologist Walter Mischel, suggested that young children who could resist eating a marshmallow while the experimenter left the room would have more discipline in adulthood because their brains were wired for better self-control.

But a 2018 replication of the test found
that family background and economic situation were the key factors in whether children and later adults could delay their gratification and be less impulsive (resist eating the marshmallow). So, if there is unrest in the family or money is tight at Christmas, this could lead to faster, impulsive decisions and paradoxically over-spending on larger quantities of items we don’t really need or want.

Psychological research suggests that our willpower is most depleted when we are tired, if we have a lot to think about, or if we are cold and in need. It is a bit like overworking a muscle that needs constant energy.

This is the perfect formula for distraction at Christmas. We think of all the family and friends to buy gifts for and seek solace in the comfort of nice goods and experiences at Christmas. All this overloads our cognitive control system in the prefrontal cortex – the front part of the brain under the forehead that helps us to control our behaviour by thinking about our long-term goals. And the prefrontal cortex connects directly to the reward centre of the brain. So if the prefrontal cortex is overloaded, the dopamine-driven, fast and impulsive reward responses are likely to take over.

Fast, impulsive thinking and slow, deliberate thinking are both part of the brain’s natural activity. Christmas shopping plays on this fast, impulsive thinking. Think of time-limited deals and the sense of crisis if a child or loved one loses out on a much-desired gift.

Woman carrying giftwrapped boxes, looking fatigued
She looks like she needs a break before her prefrontal cortex gets overloaded.
Nicoleta Ionescu/Shutterstock

Training our brains

Nevertheless there are ways we can strengthen our willpower to enjoy the season with a sense of balance. The key is becoming conscious of our emotions and our actions. The more we consciously notice our impulsivity, the better we will be at controlling it next time.

You could start right now by noting down any impulsive purchases you have made over the last week or month. And next time you go to buy something, ask yourself whether you are using slow or fast thinking.

And since the prefrontal cortex system is like a muscle that can be trained to
be stronger. Cognitive training on the run up to Christmas may help strengthen your
resolve. Think of playing chess online, or sudoku, or reading one of the books you might have been given last Christmas. Puzzles, reading, meditation practices that slow the mind, can all strengthen your brain’s circuits, and maybe help to be less impulsive this year.

And what about if you’re reading this while you’re in a cafe, taking a break from Christmas shopping? You can review your shopping list (or write one before you leave home) and reaffirm your plans. Remind yourself to stick to the list and budget no matter what. Research shows that planning and setting intentions prevents impulsive responses, especially if people plan a contingency in advance about what they will do if they spot a bright, shiny bargain.

If you can rein in impulsive Christmas purchases now, your future self will thank you for it.

The Conversation

Samantha Brooks receives funding from Liverpool John Moores University

ref. It’s so hard to resist overspending at Christmas – here’s how to reinforce your willpower – https://theconversation.com/its-so-hard-to-resist-overspending-at-christmas-heres-how-to-reinforce-your-willpower-270389

Life after stroke: the hidden struggle for recovery

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Siobhan Mclernon, Senior Nurse Lecturer , London South Bank University

Pranithan Chorruangsak/Shutterstock

Stroke is one of the leading causes of serious and complex adult disability; anyone reading this could be the next stroke survivor.

Every day in the UK, 240 people of all ages wake up to the effects of stroke: unable to move, see, speak or even swallow. Many survivors describe stroke as a “thief” that takes the life they once knew. Stroke affects not only the survivor but also the family, community, health services and wider economy. Although more people survive stroke than in the past, too many do so without the support needed to make meaningful recovery possible.

Six months after a stroke, 64% of survivors still have problems carrying out usual activities, 47% report anxiety or depression and 62% struggle with mobility. This pattern has been documented repeatedly in national datasets, including the UK’s Sentinel Stroke National Audit Programme, which also found that only 35.1% of eligible survivors received a six-month follow-up.

But many people live with hidden disabilities for five to eight years after a stroke, even if they appear physically well. These can include pain, fatigue, sleep problems and reduced social participation, memory loss, difficulty concentrating and sensory changes.

These long-lasting effects highlight the need for comprehensive and sustained support that matches the complexity of life after stroke. Support groups such as the Stroke Association and Different Strokes offer peer connection, information, emotional support and advocacy.

However, they cannot replace structured NHS rehabilitation, psychological care and long-term clinical follow-up, which many survivors report is inconsistent or unavailable.

What is missing for many people is reliable access to NHS-delivered therapy, mental health provision, vocational rehabilitation and regular reviews that identify ongoing or emerging needs.

There are also major practical consequences. Losing independence, being unable to return to work and facing financial pressures can have profound effects on survivors and their families. A quarter of all strokes happen in people under 65, during their most productive working years. About one third of survivors in this age group leave employment after a stroke, often resulting in significant financial instability.

This individual loss becomes a societal challenge. Stroke costs an estimated €60 billion per year across the EU (about £51 billion). Improving vocational support could help reduce this impact.

Early support means intervention as soon as someone is medically stable and beginning rehabilitation. It includes workplace assessments, gradual return-to-work planning, retraining when needed and guidance on benefits or workplace adjustments. Evidence shows that early vocational rehabilitation significantly improves return-to-work outcomes.

Traditional stroke rehabilitation includes physiotherapy, occupational therapy and speech therapy. Physiotherapy helps restore upper and lower limb movement. Speech therapy supports communication, reading and writing.

Occupational therapy helps people manage everyday tasks and rebuild cognitive skills such as working memory and flexible thinking. Despite these well-established therapies, many survivors continue to experience significant disability that affects daily functioning.

Although guidance recommends at least three hours per day of therapy delivered by rehabilitation professionals, demand vastly exceeds capacity. In reality, the average daily therapy time in many services is closer to 14 minutes.

As a result, many survivors experience gaps in long-term support, including rehabilitation, psychological care and community reintegration. Holistic, person-centred services that continue well beyond hospital discharge are essential.

Effective care must address both medical and social needs. This includes community resources such as social prescribing schemes, local neurorehabilitation hubs, peer support networks and accessible exercise programmes. It also includes caregiver support for unpaid family or friend carers through training, respite and financial guidance. Tailored rehabilitation plans are vital to ensure that support adapts as survivors’ needs change.

Innovation offers new possibilities. Technology enriched rehabilitation such as robotics, virtual reality and digital wearables can increase the intensity of repetitions, improve patient engagement and provide precise feedback on movement and performance.

The use of therapeutic robots has been shown in several trials to improve upper limb function in selected stroke patients while reducing the physical workload on therapists. Selection is typically based on clinical assessments of arm or hand impairment, cognitive capacity to follow instructions and the stage of rehabilitation.

Stroke survival has improved, but survival alone is not enough. The evidence shows that long-term disability, unmet clinical needs and preventable loss of independence continue to shape life after stroke for millions. A system built around short bursts of early rehabilitation cannot meet the needs of a condition that unfolds over years.

Improving access to therapy, psychological care, vocational support and community services is not an optional extra. It is central to giving stroke survivors the chance to rebuild their future.

Without this shift, the gap between what is possible and what people receive will continue to define life after stroke. After all, a life saved should be a life worth living.

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. Life after stroke: the hidden struggle for recovery – https://theconversation.com/life-after-stroke-the-hidden-struggle-for-recovery-266041

Premier League football matches can be crime hotspots – but community sports centres have the opposite effect

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Yijing Li, Senior Lecturer on Urban Informtics, King’s College London

Tottenham Hotspur Stadium in the north London borough of Haringey is the largest club ground in the capital. Joas Souza/Shutterstock

Premier League football stadiums in England can be hotspots for certain types of crime on match days, demanding a heavy police presence. But for much of the year, community sports clubs located in nearby neighbourhoods play an important role in reducing levels of crime.

Our recently published research focused on men’s match days at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium in Haringey, north London – using Haringey Council’s daily crime counts for 2023 to highlight local variations in crime on the stadium’s 23 Premier League, FA Cup and Champions League match days.

We found an average increase in all “expressive” crimes of 20 percentage points over non-match days, with drug offences also increasing significantly. Expressive crimes are those driven by emotional release and identity conflict – often fuelled by increased alcohol or drug consumption – which can lead to disorder and violence against other fans or local residents.

Our study, in conjunction with London Sport, also used the UK police’s open data portal to analyse the relationship between crime and distribution of sports clubs across the whole of London. This showed how community sports clubs serve an important protective role against crime in higher-risk neighbourhoods, such as the White Hart Lane and Hermitage & Gardens wards close to Tottenham’s stadium.

Three factors of “routine activity theory” converge to create crime opportunities on Premier League match days: a spike of people influenced by alcohol or team rivalry (“motivated offenders”); a sudden influx of large, dense crowds of opposing fans (“suitable targets”); and diverted or overwhelmed police resources by the sheer volume of people (“absence of capable guardians”).

Map of London highlighting hotspots with high levels of expressive crime and a dense distribution of community sports clubs.
Map of London highlights red hotspots with high levels of expressive crime and a dense distribution of community sports clubs. Yellow denotes areas with relatively high crime but a low density of sports clubs.
Yijing Li, CC BY-SA

Around the Tottenham Hotspur Stadium over the course of 2023, there were 33 public order offences on match days, representing 20% of all such offences in the area that year. There were also 78 drug-related offences, accounting for 47% of all drug offences in the area in 2023. The average attendance for a Spurs Premier League match is over 61,000 fans, including around 3,000 away supporters.

The crime hotspots were highly localised, spiking around transport hubs such as White Hart Lane and Bruce Grove train stations, and the Bounds Green and Woodside shuttle bus locations.

But our study also highlights the risk of police displacement when officers flood a stadium zone, meaning neighbouring areas can be left under-protected. We conclude that police forces should ensure that the “ring of steel” around a stadium on match days does not create a security vacuum in adjacent residential areas.

Crime-reducing effects of sports clubs

In many parts of London, community sports clubs play an important protective role against crime in their neighbourhoods. The White Hart Lane and Hermitage & Gardens areas around Tottenham Hotspur Stadium, for example, are recognised crime hotspots with above-average rates of violence against women and drug offences.

But our analysis shows activities organised by local sports clubs there – and throughout much of London – suppress these crimes during school term times, when the clubs are operating.

The crime-suppressing effect of community sport centres fluctuates with the calendar, however, with the effect weakening significantly in December and January when cold weather limits outdoor sports activities and the school holidays leave many young people with more unstructured, unsupervised leisure time – exacerbated by a reduction in the availability of organised club activities.

This suggests policymakers seeking to address youth crime should not only fund programmes during the summer holidays but also winter “bridge” programmes – investing in indoor facilities and youth camps during the Christmas break to maintain the social supervision structure that reduces delinquency.

However, a “one-size-fits-all” policy for sports community clubs is not advisable. We found that some sports clubs located in quiet, low-density areas of London did not show the same protective effect against crime. In these residential pockets, levels of expressive crime tended to increase slightly around the club, probably because the inflow of visitors and noise created some disruption to the local social fabric.

Sadiq Khan launches London’s Violence Reduction Unit partnership with the capital’s professional football clubs, October 2025.

Nonetheless, there is much evidence for sporting activities developing skills and traits in young people that offer deterrents against youth violence – including self-control, teamwork and cooperation, prosocial behaviour and conflict resolution skills. Taking part in sport can encourage a sense of belonging and ways of expressing stress that have positive effects on self-esteem and mental wellbeing.

Organised sports occupy the leisure time of adolescents who might otherwise engage in unstructured, risky behaviour. The community clubs provide “capable guardians” in the form of coaches and mentors offering social supervision that can be particularly lacking in high-deprivation areas.

In April 2025, London’s mayor Sadiq Khan announced the capital’s Violence Reduction Unit was investing a further £1 million to provide sports and physical activities to young people at the highest risk of being affected by violence in London. The unit is now partnering with London’s 17 professional football clubs in an attempt to provide positive opportunities for young people across the capital.

This article was commissioned in conjunction with the Professors’ Programme, part of Prototypes for Humanity, a global initiative that showcases and accelerates academic innovation to solve social and environmental challenges. The Conversation is the media partner of Prototypes for Humanity 2025.

The Conversation

This article was commissioned in conjunction with the Professors’ Programme, part of Prototypes for Humanity, a global initiative that showcases and accelerates academic innovation to solve social and environmental challenges. The Conversation is the media partner of Prototypes for Humanity 2025

Rui Wang 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. Premier League football matches can be crime hotspots – but community sports centres have the opposite effect – https://theconversation.com/premier-league-football-matches-can-be-crime-hotspots-but-community-sports-centres-have-the-opposite-effect-271483

South Africa and Pakistan: countries brought to their knees by elite capture and economic paralysis

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Busani Ngcaweni, Director: Center for Public Policy and African Studies & Visiting Professor, China Foreign Affairs University, University of Johannesburg

In the ongoing quest to understand South Africa’s political and economic stagnation, it may be helpful to look at other postcolonial states that have travelled further along the path of independence. This may help clarify the stagnation question that citizens, politicians and economists are grappling with.

Much of the analysis of postcolonial Africa and Asia has identified poor leadership, authoritarianism and misguided economic policies as determinants of stagnation. These factors do matter. But they do not fully explain why some new independent states collapsed into dysfunction while others achieved growth. The deeper question is how institutions are built, sustained or destroyed.

South Africa’s stagnation is not the complete absence of growth or democracy, but the inability to convert political freedom and economic potential into sustainable and inclusive growth manifesting in quality of life for the majority.

The World Bank calls this an incomplete transition. In its 30 years of democracy review report, the South African Presidency concluded that the economy was performing below its full potential, unemployment was high, poverty levels were persistent in pockets of broader society and inequality levels were stubbornly high and racially biased.

As we read in the World Bank’s Africa’s Pulse report, these challenges continue to trouble most of the countries on the continent.

I have encountered this in my economic governance capacity building work in government and through my affiliations with local and Asian universities. There is common concern about deteriorating statecraft and the weakening of institutions.

In that connection, this essay is framed as a comparative reflection. It situates Pakistan alongside Ghana, Malaysia and Singapore, then turns to former Pakistani civil servant and now academic Ishrat Husain’s book, Governing the Ungovernable. It is a detailed case study of institutional decline.

A former governor of the central bank of Pakistan and long-time government advisor on public sector reform, Husain offers an authoritative framework against which we can understand the performance of other post-colonial states. I use this framework to mirror South Africa, showing how elite capture, institutional weakness and cycles of reversal explain its present stagnation.

I chose Pakistan because its story of “ungovernable” institutions is similar to that of South Africa, compared to Singapore, whose success story is determined by the performance of its institutions.

Ungovernabilty in Pakistan

Husain identified ungovernability as a key determinant of Pakistan’s stagnation. By ungovernability he does not mean complete disorder (although there is too much political instability in Pakistan). He uses the term to describe a state where institutions exist but fail.

Pakistan, he writes, developed

a well entrenched system in which political, bureaucratic, business and professional elites collaborate in extracting rents at the expense of the larger society (p. 41).

Every major crisis could be traced back to this governance deficit (p. 43). Need we add, in many post-colonial states in Africa and Asia, institutions are either still being formed or they do not exist.

Institutions that should deliver services instead serve rent-seeking. Tax authorities, utilities and the police used their discretion for private gain (pp. 70–72). Elites blocked reforms because they benefited from dysfunction. Even when reforms began, they were quickly undone.

Ungovernable thus means institutions exist in name but not in substance.

Husain identifies coalitions that benefit from weakness and resist reform.

  • Political dynasties dominate parties without internal democracy, using legislatures as platforms for patronage (p. 134).

  • The military intervened in 1958, 1977 and 1999, stunting civilian institutions (pp. 140–144).

  • Bureaucrats exploited their powers for rent extraction (p. 155).

  • Business and landed elites resisted taxation and defended subsidies (pp. 160–165).

  • Law enforcement was crippled by bribery and political appointments:

Law and order is bound to suffer when police officials are appointed… rather than professional competence. (p. 172).

Together, these groups made Pakistan ungovernable in practice.

Husain points to several interlocking causes: the vacuum after the death of Mohammed Ali Jinnah, Pakistan’s first governor-general (1947–48) (pp. 22–24), repeated military dominance (pp. 140–144), weak dynastic parties (p. 134), corruption across key sectors (pp. 70–80), cycles of reform and reversal (pp. 112–115), entrenched patronage networks (pp. 180–182), and a systemic governance deficit undermining taxation, energy, law and service delivery (pp. 200–210).

South Africa reflects these same patterns

South Africa’s political and economic stagnation can be defined as a prolonged period in which the state struggles to generate growth, reduce inequality and renew governance capacity, despite the presence of democratic institutions and economic potential. This challenges the theory of South African exceptionalism, as we witness the same trend of political and economic elites whose decisions result in the capture of institutions and the destruction of public value.

In South Africa, the role of economic and political elites is central to understanding institutional fragility. The Zondo Commission of Inquiry into State Capture (2018–2022) revealed how networks of political leaders, senior bureaucrats and business elites colluded to systematically weaken public institutions for private gain.

State-owned enterprises such as Eskom, Transnet and South African Airways were targeted through corrupt procurement, inflated contracts and political patronage, undermining their ability to deliver services and support economic development. The commission showed that elite capture distorted the functioning of key accountability institutions including the National Prosecuting Authority and law enforcement agencies, which were compromised to shield powerful individuals from scrutiny.

These practices eroded public trust, drained fiscal resources and entrenched political stagnation. Testimonies from the ongoing commission led by retired judge Mbuyiseli Madlanga are echoing stories told at the Zondo Commission, and now, like in Pakistan, showing the “ungovernability” of the criminal justice system.

Like in Pakistan, the police and the National Prosecuting Authority are politicised and weakened. The army, once a regional force, has declined under shrinking budgets and skills shortages. Immigration is compromised by incoherent policy, corruption at the Home Affairs department and porous borders. Local government is the weakest link, condemned by poor leadership, incompetence and failing services.

Therefore, in the South African case, ungovernability or institutional weakness cannot be explained solely by colonial legacies or structural constraints, although they do matter because the apartheid regime was corrupt. Ungovernability has been actively produced and perpetuated by elites who hollowed out institutions designed to safeguard democracy and development. They became machines of rent-seeking instead of agents of national development. They subverted the will of the people for the will of the elites who undermine accountability.

As in Pakistan, the institutions exist but fail. They are captured by elites. Reforms begin but rarely last. Why?

The comparison is instructive. Ghana fell into coups. Malaysia survived but with uneven governance. Pakistan allowed patronage to corrode its foundations. South Africa shows the same symptoms: revenue shortfalls, energy collapse, transport paralysis, policing failures, weakened defence, porous borders and failing municipalities.

Singapore deliberately built strong institutions and prospered.

Some answers

Husain warns against “sweeping reforms that collapse at each election cycle” (p. 245). Instead, he calls for “selective, sequenced and incremental reforms that enjoy broad consensus” (p. 246). The implication for South Africa is clear.

Political settlements must be reset so that institutions serve citizens rather than factions. Core institutions must be restored: courts, revenue authorities, utilities, police and prosecutors. Coalitions must be built around national goals of security, growth and fairness (p. 252).

Comparative lessons are instructive. Singapore shows the rewards of disciplined governance, while Malaysia illustrates the limits of partial reform. Above all, renewal will take decades, as decay did (p. 260).

From Pakistan’s partition in 1947 to Ghana’s independence in 1957, from the separation of Malaysia and Singapore in 1965 to South Africa’s democratic transition in 1994, post-colonial states have combined early promise with the test of institution-building. Some passed, others faltered.

Husain’s book shows that ungovernability is not chaos but the hollowing out of institutions until they exist only on paper. South Africa mirrors this reality.

The case of Pakistan also defies the idea that cultural or religious homogeneity guarantees cohesion and growth. Despite greater uniformity than many of its neighbours, Pakistan has struggled to sustain unity and development. Cohesion and growth, as Husain’s analysis confirms, are not products of identity but of politics. They depend on the presence of a developmental elite able to mobilise all productive forces in society, on effective institutions that secure delivery and accountability, and on coalitions that bring legitimacy to the national project while managing contradictions. Without these, even homogeneous nations fragment.

For South Africa, the lesson is clear. The future will not be saved by appeals to “organisational renewal” that leading political parties speak about, cultural unity or new slogans about reforms. It will be built through the deliberate reconstruction of institutions, the cultivation of developmental leadership and the forging of coalitions that sustain legitimacy across political cycles. And it requires stronger instruments of accountability and consequence management.

Only through such long and patient work can the country move from being ungovernable in practice to governable in fact.

The Conversation

Ngcaweni is affiliated with the South African Association of Public Administration and Management (SAAPAM), Faculty Expert at Singapore’s Chandler Governance Institute. He is Distinguished Fellow of the National School of Government of SA and Research Associate at the University of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences where he reads and writes about the National and Regional Economic Development/Governance Models.

ref. South Africa and Pakistan: countries brought to their knees by elite capture and economic paralysis – https://theconversation.com/south-africa-and-pakistan-countries-brought-to-their-knees-by-elite-capture-and-economic-paralysis-265427