Here’s why 3-person embryos are a breakthrough for science – but not LGBTQ+ families

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Jennifer Power, Principal Research Fellow, Australian Research Centre in Sex, Health and Society, La Trobe University

Last week, scientists announced the birth of eight healthy babies in the United Kingdom conceived with DNA from three people. Some headlines have called it “three-person IVF”.

The embryo uses the DNA from the egg and sperm of the intended father and mother, as well as cells from the egg of a second woman (the donor).

This process – known as mitochondrial replacement therapy – allows women with certain genetic disorders to conceive a child without passing on their condition.

While it’s raised broader questions about “three-parent” babies, it’s not so simple. Here’s why it’s unlikely this development will transform the diverse ways LGBTQ+ people are already making families.

What this technology is – and isn’t

The UK became the first country in the world to allow mitochondrial donation for three-person embryos ten years ago, in 2015.

In other countries, such donations are banned or strictly controlled. In Australia, a staged approach to allow mitochondrial donation was introduced in 2022. Stage one will involve clinical trials to determine safety and effectiveness, and establish clear ethical guidelines for donations.

These restrictions are based on political and ethical concerns about the use of human embryos for research, the unknown health impact on children, and the broader implications of allowing genetic modification of human embryos.

There are also concerns about the ethical or legal implications of creating babies with “three parents”.

Carefully and slowly considering these ethical issues is clearly important. But it’s inaccurate to suggest this process creates three parents.

First, the amount of DNA the donor provides is tiny, only 0.1% of the baby’s DNA. The baby will not share any physical characteristics with the donor.

While it is significant that two women’s DNA has been used in creating an embryo, it doesn’t mean lesbian couples will be rushing to access this particular in vitro fertilisation (IVF) technology.

This technique is only used for people affected by mitochondrial disease and is closely regulated. It is not available more widely and in Australia, is not yet available even for this use.

Second, while biological lineage is an important part of many people’s identity and sense of self, DNA alone does not make a parent.

As many adoptive, foster and LGBTQ+ parents will attest, parenting is about love, connection and everyday acts of care for a child.

How do rainbow families use IVF?

Existing IVF is already expensive and medically invasive. Many fertility services offer a range of additional treatments purported to aid fertility, but extra interventions add more costs and are not universally recommended by doctors.

While many lesbian couples and single women use fertility services to access donor sperm, not everyone will need to use IVF.

Less invasive fertilisation techniques, such as intrauterine insemination, may be available for women without fertility problems. This means inserting sperm directly into the uterus, rather than fertilising an egg in a clinic and then implanting that embryo.

Same-sex couples who have the option to create a baby with a sperm donor they know – rather than from a register – may also choose home-based insemination, the proverbial turkey baster. This is a cheaper and more intimate way to conceive and many women prefer a donor who will have some involvement in their child’s life.

In recent years, “reciprocal” IVF has also grown in popularity among lesbian couples. This means an embryo is created using one partner’s egg, and the other partner carries it.

Reciprocal IVF’s popularity suggests biology does play a role for LGBTQ+ women in conceiving a baby. When both mothers share a biological connection to the child, it may help overcome stigmatisation of “non-birth” mothers as less legitimate.

But biology is by no means the defining feature of rainbow families.

LGBTQ+ people are already parents

The 2021 census showed 17% of same-sex couples had children living with them; among female same-sex couples it was 28%. This is likely an underestimate, as the census only collects data on couples that live together.

Same-sex couples often conceive children using donor sperm or eggs, and this may involve surrogacy. But across the LGBTQ+ community, there are diverse ways people become parents.

Same-sex couples are one part of the LGBTQ+ community. Growing numbers of trans and non-binary people are choosing to carry a baby (as gestational parents), as well as single parents who use donors or fertility services. Many others conceive children through sex, including bi+ people or others who conceive within a relationship.

While LGBTQ+ people can legally adopt children in Australia, adoption is not common. However, many foster parents are LGBTQ+.

When they donate eggs or sperm to others, some LGBTQ+ people may stay involved in the child’s life as a close family friend or co-parent.

Connection and care, not DNA

While mitochondrial replacement therapy is a remarkable advance in gene technology, it is unlikely to open new pathways to parenthood for LGBTQ+ people in Australia.

Asserting the importance of families based on choice – not biology or what technology is available – has been crucial to the LGBTQ+ community’s story and to rainbow families’ fight to be recognised.

Decades of research now shows children raised by same-sex couples do just as well as any other child. What matters is parents’ consistency, love and quality of care.

The Conversation

Jennifer Power receives funding from the Australian Department of Health, Disability and Aged Care and the Australian Research Council.

ref. Here’s why 3-person embryos are a breakthrough for science – but not LGBTQ+ families – https://theconversation.com/heres-why-3-person-embryos-are-a-breakthrough-for-science-but-not-lgbtq-families-261462

Do countries have a duty to prevent climate harm? The world’s highest court is about to answer this crucial question

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Nathan Cooper, Associate Professor of Law, University of Waikato

Getty Images

The International Court of Justice (ICJ) will issue a highly anticipated advisory opinion overnight to clarify state obligations related to climate change.

It will answer two urgent questions: what are the obligations of states under international law to protect the climate and environment from greenhouse gas emissions, and what are the legal consequences for states that have caused significant harm to Earth’s atmosphere and environment?

ICJ advisory opinions are not legally binding. But coming from the world’s highest court, they provide an authoritative opinion on serious issues that can be highly persuasive.

This advisory opinion marks the culmination of a campaign that began in 2019 when students and youth organisations in Vanuatu – one of the most vulnerable nations to climate-related impacts – persuaded their government to seek clarification on what states should be doing to protect them.

Led by Vanuatu and co-sponsored by 132 member states, including New Zealand and Australia, the United Nations General Assembly formally requested the advisory opinion in March 2023.

More than two years of public consultation and deliberation ensued, leading to this week’s announcement.

What to expect

Looking at the specific questions to be addressed, at least three aspects stand out.

First, the sources and areas of international law under scrutiny are not confined to the UN’s climate change framework. This invites the ICJ to consider a broad range of law – including trans-boundary environmental law, human rights law, international investment law, humanitarian law, trade law and beyond – and to draw on both treaty-related obligations and customary international law.

Such an encyclopaedic examination could produce a complex and integrated opinion on states’ obligations to protect the environment and climate system.

Second, the opinion will address what obligations exist, not just to those present today, but to future generations. This follows acknowledgement of the so-called “intertemporal characteristics” of climate change in recent climate-related court decisions and the need to respond effectively to both the current climate crisis and its likely ongoing consequences.

Third, the opinion won’t just address what obligations states have, but also what the consequences should be for nations:

where they, by their acts and omissions have caused significant harm to the climate system and other parts of the environment.

Addressing consequences as well as obligations should cause states to pay closer attention and make the ICJ’s advisory more relevant to domestic climate litigation and policy discussions.

Representatives from Pacific island nations gathered outside the International Court of Justice during the hearings.
Representatives from Pacific island nations gathered outside the International Court of Justice during the hearings.
Michel Porro/Getty Images

Global judicial direction

Two recent court findings may offer clues as to the potential scope of the ICJ’s findings.

Earlier this month, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights published its own advisory opinion on state obligations in response to climate change.

Explicitly connecting fundamental human rights with a healthy ecosystem, this opinion affirmed states have an imperative duty to prevent irreversible harm to the climate system. Moreover, the duty to safeguard the common ecosystem must be understood as a fundamental principle of international law to which states must adhere.

Meanwhile last week, an Australian federal court dismissed a landmark climate case, determining that the Australian government does not owe a duty of care to Torres Strait Islanders to protect them from the consequences of climate change.

The court accepted the claimants face significant loss and damage from climate impacts and that previous Australian government policies on greenhouse gas emissions were not aligned with the best science to limit climate change. But it nevertheless determined that “matters of high or core government policy” are not subject to common law duties of care.

Whether the ICJ will complement the Inter-American court’s bold approach or opt for a more constrained and conservative response is not certain. But now is the time for clear and ambitious judicial direction with global scope.

Implications for New Zealand

Aotearoa New Zealand aspires to climate leadership through its Climate Change Response (Zero Carbon) Amendment Act 2019. This set 2050 targets of reducing emissions of long-lived greenhouse gases (carbon dioxide and nitrous oxide) to net zero, and biogenic methane by 25-47%.

However, actions to date are likely insufficient to meet this target. Transport emissions continue to rise and agriculture – responsible for nearly half of the country’s emissions – is lightly regulated.

Although the government plans to double renewable energy by 2050, it is also in the process of lifting a 2018 ban on offshore gas exploration and has pledged $200 million to co-invest in the development of new fields.

Critics also point out the government has made little progress towards its promise to install 10,000 EV charging stations by 2030 while axing a clean-investment fund.

Although a final decision is yet to be made, the government is also considering to lower the target for cuts to methane emissions from livestock, against advice from the Climate Change Commission.

With the next global climate summit coming up in November, the ICJ opinion may offer timely encouragement for states to reconsider their emissions targets and the ambition of climate policies.

Most countries have yet to submit their latest emissions reduction pledges (known as nationally determined contributions) under the Paris Agreement. New Zealand has made its pledge, but it has been described as “underwhelming”. This may present a chance to adjust ambition upwards.

If the ICJ affirms that states have binding obligations to prevent climate harm, including trans-boundary impacts, New Zealand’s climate change policies and progress to date could face increased legal scrutiny.

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. Do countries have a duty to prevent climate harm? The world’s highest court is about to answer this crucial question – https://theconversation.com/do-countries-have-a-duty-to-prevent-climate-harm-the-worlds-highest-court-is-about-to-answer-this-crucial-question-261396

Could the latest ‘interstellar comet’ be an alien probe? Why spotting cosmic visitors is harder than you think

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Sara Webb, Lecturer, Centre for Astrophysics and Supercomputing, Swinburne University of Technology

Comet 3I/ATLAS International Gemini Observatory/NOIRLab/NSF/AURA/K. Meech/Jen Miller/Mahdi Zamani, CC BY

On July 1, astronomers spotted an unusual high-speed object zooming towards the Sun. Dubbed 3I/ATLAS, the surprising space traveller had one very special quality: its orbit showed it had come from outside our Solar System.

For only the third time ever, we had discovered a true interstellar visitor. And it was weird.

3I/ATLAS breaking records

3I/ATLAS appeared to be travelling at 245,000 kilometres per hour, making it the fastest object ever detected in our Solar System.

It was also huge. Early estimates suggest the object could be up to 20km in size. Finally, scientists believe it may even be older than our Sun.

Davide Farnocchia, navigation engineer at NASA’s JPL, explains the discovery of 3I/ATLAS.

Could it be alien?

Our first assumption when we see something in space is that it’s a lump of rock or ice. But the strange properties of 3I/ATLAS have suggested to some that it may be something else entirely.

Harvard astrophysics professor Avi Loeb and colleagues last week uploaded a paper titled Is the Interstellar Object 3I/ATLAS Alien Technology? to the arXiv preprint server. (The paper has not yet been peer reviewed.)

Loeb is a controversial figure among astronomers and astrophysicists. He has previously suggested that the first known interstellar object, 1I/ʻOumuamua, discovered in 2017, may also have been an alien craft.

Among other oddities Loeb suggests may be signs of deliberate alien origin, he notes the orbit of 3I/ATLAS takes it improbably close to Venus, Mars and Jupiter.

The trajectory of comet 3I/ATLAS as it passes through the Solar System, with its closest approach to the Sun in October.
NASA/JPL-Caltech

We’ve sent out our own alien probes

The idea of alien probes wandering the cosmos may sound strange, but humans sent out a few ourselves in the 1970s. Both Voyager 1 and 2 have officially left our Solar System, and Pioneer 10 and 11 are not far behind.

So it’s not a stretch to think that alien civilisations – if they exist – would have launched their own galactic explorers.

However, this brings us to a crucial question: short of little green men popping out to say hello, how would we actually know if 3I/ATLAS, or any other interstellar object, was an alien probe?

Detecting alien probes 101

The first step to determining whether something is a natural object or an alien probe is of course to spot it.

Most things we see in our Solar System don’t emit light of their own. Instead, we only see them by the light they reflect from the Sun.

Larger objects generally reflect more sunlight, so they are easier for us to see. So what we see tends to be larger comets and asteroid, especially farther from Earth.

It can be very difficult to spot smaller objects. At present, we can track objects down to a size of ten or 20 metres out as far from the Sun as Jupiter.

Our own Voyager probes are about ten metres in size (if we include their radio antennas). If an alien probe was similar, we probably wouldn’t spot it until it was somewhere in the asteroid belt between Jupiter and Mars.

If we did spot something suspicious, to figure out if it really were a probe or not we would look for a few telltales.

A streak of coloured light against a background of stars.
Viewing 3I/ATLAS through coloured filters reveals the colours that make up its tail.
International Gemini Observatory/NOIRLab/NSF/AURA/K. Meech (IfA/U. Hawaii) / Jen Miller & Mahdi Zamani (NSF NOIRLab), CC BY

First off, because a natural origin is most likely, we would look for evidence that no aliens were involved. One clue in this direction might be if the object were emitting a “tail” of gas in the way that comets do.

However, we might also want to look for hints of alien origin. One very strong piece of evidence would be any kind of radio waves coming from the probe as a form of communication. This is assuming the probe was still in working order, and not completely defunct.

We might also look for signs of electrostatic discharge caused by sunlight hitting the probe.

Another dead giveaway would be signs of manoeuvring or propulsion. An active probe might try to correct its course or reposition its antennas to send and receive signals to and from its origin.

And a genuine smoking gun would be an approach to Earth in a stable orbit. Not to brag, but Earth is genuinely the most interesting place in the Solar System – we have water, a healthy atmosphere, a strong magnetic field and life. A probe with any decision-making capacity would likely want to investigate and collect data about our interesting little planet.

We may never know

Without clear signs one way or the other, however, it may be impossible to know if some interstellar objects are natural or alien-made.

Objects like 3I/ATLAS remind us that space is vast, strange, and full of surprises. Most of them have natural explanations. But the strangest objects are worth a second look.

For now, 3I/ATLAS is likely just an unusually fast, old and icy visitor from a distant system. But it also serves as a test case: a chance to refine the way we search, observe and ask questions about the universe.

The Conversation

Sara Webb 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. Could the latest ‘interstellar comet’ be an alien probe? Why spotting cosmic visitors is harder than you think – https://theconversation.com/could-the-latest-interstellar-comet-be-an-alien-probe-why-spotting-cosmic-visitors-is-harder-than-you-think-261656

Doctors shouldn’t be allowed to object to medical care if it harms their patients

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Julian Savulescu, Visiting Professor in Biomedical Ethics, Murdoch Children’s Research Institute; Distinguished Visiting Professor in Law, University of Melbourne; Uehiro Chair in Practical Ethics, The University of Melbourne

HRAUN/Getty

A young woman needs an abortion and the reasons, while urgent, are not medical. A United States Navy nurse at Guantánamo Bay is ordered to force-feed a defiant detainee on hunger strike.

These very different real-life cases have one connecting thread: the question of whether a health professional can conscientiously object to carrying out a patient’s request.

Freedom of conscience is often held up as a purely noble principle. But when it’s used to deny health care, it means a single person’s beliefs are dictating what is best for another person’s physical and mental health – which can have devastating, even fatal, results.

In our recent book, Rethinking Conscientious Objection in Healthcare, colleagues and I conclude doctors should not be free to make medical decisions based on their personal beliefs.

It’s not noble to refuse care

Freedom of conscience is strongly – but not absolutely – protected under international human rights law. It is enshrined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

This principle has often been used for moral purposes: for example, to resist orders to torture or kill.

But after researching use of conscientious objection by health professionals, I have concluded it is seriously flawed when used to deny patients health services. This is especially so when particular doctors have a monopoly on service provision, as is the case with abortion and assisted dying in many rural and regional areas of Australia.

In Australia, doctors are allowed to conscientiously object to abortion, although nearly all states require referral to other service providers or information about how to access the relevant service.

In practice, these laws are not enforced and sometimes disregarded.

A doctor’s refusal can mean patients can be denied the standard of care they need, or indeed, any care at all.

Health-care professionals are not like pacifists refusing conscription into the military, opposing something forced upon them. They freely choose health-care careers that come with obligations and with ethical stances already established by professional codes of conduct.

People are free to hold whatever beliefs they choose, but those beliefs will inevitably close off some options for them. For example, a vegetarian will not be able to work in an abattoir. That is true for every one of us. But what shouldn’t happen is a doctor’s personal beliefs closing off legitimate options for their patient.

4 guiding questions

Instead of personal values, there are four key secular principles we propose that doctors should rely on when deciding how to advise patients about sensitive procedures:

  • is it legal?

  • is it a just and fair use of any resources that might be limited?

  • is it in the interests of the patient’s wellbeing?

  • is it what the patient has themselves decided they want?

Of course, there will be times when some of these principles are in conflict – that is when it is important to apply the most crucial ones, the wellbeing of the patient and the patient’s own wishes.

In Ireland in 2012, a young woman named Savita Halappanavar went to an Irish hospital for treatment for her miscarriage. Doctors knew there was no hope of the pregnancy surviving but refused to evacuate her uterus while there was still a fetal heartbeat, for fear of breaching Ireland’s anti-abortion laws. The result: Savita died of septicaemia at 31.

If doctors had put the patient’s wellbeing first, they would have given her that termination, despite the law, and it would have saved her life.

These are the principles that should have been applied to the examples above: the woman seeking an abortion for career reasons or the nurse refusing to force-feed prisoners.

The doctor (or nurse) should ask: Is it what the patient has autonomously decided they want? Will it lead to the best outcome for both their physical and their mental health?

If abortion will promote a woman’s wellbeing, it is in her interests. Hunger strikers should not be force-fed because it violates their autonomy.

An unfair burden

While doctors’ personal values are important, they should not dictate care at the bedside. Not only can this disadvantage the patient, but it places an unfair burden on colleagues who do accept such work, and must carry a disproportionate load of procedures they might find unpleasant and financially unrewarding.

It also creates injustice. Patients who are educated, wealthy and well-connected already find it easier to access health care. Conscientious objection intensifies that unfairness in large swathes of the country because it further limits options.

Two countries with excellent health-care systems, Sweden and Finland, do not permit conscientious objection by medical professionals.

In Australia, it is time we do the same and strongly limit conscientious objection as a legal right for health professionals. We should also ensure those entering the discipline are prepared to take on all procedures relevant to their specialty.

And lastly, but most importantly, we should educate them that the patient’s interests and values must always come first. An individual doctor’s sense of moral authority should not be permitted to morph into medical and moral authoritarianism.

The Conversation

Julian Savulescu 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. Doctors shouldn’t be allowed to object to medical care if it harms their patients – https://theconversation.com/doctors-shouldnt-be-allowed-to-object-to-medical-care-if-it-harms-their-patients-260003

The incredible impact of Ozzy Osbourne, from Black Sabbath to Ozzfest to 30 years of retirement tours

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Lachlan Goold, Senior Lecturer in Contemporary Music, University of the Sunshine Coast

Ozzy Osbourne photographed in London in 1991. Martyn Goodacre/Getty Images

Ozzy Osbourne, the “prince of darkness” and godfather of heavy metal, has died aged 76, just weeks after he reunited with Black Sabbath bandmates for a farewell concert in his hometown of Birmingham in England.

His family posted a brief message overnight: “It is with more sadness than mere words can convey that we have to report that our beloved Ozzy Osbourne has passed away this morning.”

John Michael Osbourne changed the sound of rock music and leaves behind a stellar career spanning six decades, numerous Grammy awards, multiple hall of fame inductions – and a wave of controversy.

An agent of change

In 1969, from the ashes of various bands, Geezer Butler (bass), Tony Iommi (guitar), Bill Ward (drums) and Osbourne formed the band Earth.

Realising the name was taken, they quickly changed their name to Black Sabbath, an homage to the 1963 Italian horror anthology film.

With the Summer of Love a recent memory, Black Sabbath were part of a heavy music revolution, providing an antidote to the free loving hippies of the late 60s period.

Despite making their first two albums cheaply, Black Sabbath, released in February 1970, and Paranoid, released September that same year, they were a global success.

Their approach was laden with sarcasm and irony. American audiences mistook this for satanic worship, positioning them as outsiders (albeit popular ones).

Black and white photograph.
Black Sabbath pose for a group portrait with gold discs, London, 1973, L-R Bill Ward, Ozzy Osbourne, Tony Iommi, Geezer Butler.
Michael Putland/Getty Images

After Black Sabbath’s early successes, they were managed by the notorious Don Arden, whose daughter Sharon Levy was the receptionist. More than any musical bond Osbourne had in his life, Sharon would be the most influential character throughout his life.

Osbourne recorded eight albums with Black Sabbath (some to critical acclaim) and was then kicked out (by Sharon) due to his troubles with drugs and alcohol.

Ozzy solo

Osbourne’s solo career has always been managed by Sharon. While recording his second solo album, Diary of a Madman, guitarist Rhodes died in a tragic light plane crash. Osbourne was close to Rhodes and fell into a deep depression, after never having lost someone so close.

Sharon and Osbourne married only months after this incident. His struggle with drug use did not stop him from making further solo records alongside various guitar players, continuing with moderate success throughout his career.

On the road, Osbourne put the John Farnham’s last tour trope to shame.

He held his last ever gig more times than one can count with names like No More Tours (1992–93), Retirement Sucks (1995–96) and No More Tours 2 (2018–19).

Osbourne behind the microphone.
Osbourne ‘retired’ many times over 30 years. Here he performs in California in 2022.
Kevork Djansezian/Getty Images

This lament for touring led to the most successful era of Osbourne’s career. After being rejected for the 1995 Lollapaloza festival bill, Sharon (and their son Jack) started Ozzfest; initially an annual two-day multiband festival headlined by Osbourne, held in Phoenix, Arizona, and Devore, California.

Subsequently becoming a national – and then international – tour, Ozzfest led to a successful partnership with MTV, which led to the reality TV show The Osbournes premiering in 2002. Here, his previous and ongoing battle with drugs was obvious, proudly on display – and ridiculed – to huge global audiences.

The spectacle of a rich rockstar and his family featured a constant barrage of swearing, battles with lavish TV remotes, canine therapy, never-ending chaos, and Osbourne constantly yelling “Sharrrooon” like a twisted maniacal loop of A Street Car Named Desire.

Struggles and controversies

Osbourne suffered multiple health conditions over the years, rarely concealing the state of his physical or mental wellbeing.

Notably he’s struggled with drug and alcohol abuse his whole career with drug recovery centres using Osbourne as an exemplar. In 2007 he disclosed he suffered from the Parkinson’s adjacent condition Parkinsonian syndrome. In 2019 he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease.

Four very 70s rockers.
Black Sabbath photographed in the 1970s. Left to right: Geezer Butler, Tony Iommi, Bill Ward and Ozzy Osbourne.
Chris Walter/WireImage

This resulted in him being unable to walk for his final Back to the Beginning show in Birmingham on July 5 2025.

And Osbourne’s career had more than its fair share of controversy. He bit the head off a dove and a bat (celebrated with a commemorative toy), and urinated on the Alamo cenotaph. He was taken to court multiple times, but was never convicted.

Ozzy and me

As a white middle-class boy growing up in the Brisbane suburbs in the 80s, heavy metal music appealed to my testosterone and pimple filled body.

Exploring the secondhand record shops of Brisbane, I would’ve bought my first copy of Black Sabbath around 1985. The sound of thunder and a distant church bell before the first drop-D riff enters seemed like the antithesis to sunny Queensland and 80s pop.

As my life became obsessed with the recording studio and the vociferous music scene in Brisbane in the post-Joh era, and those drop-D riffs influenced a new style that swept the world in the early 90s.

Osbourne’s influence was huge and through grunge, his sound was reborn. Grunge was a marriage of the Sabbath-like drop-D riffs with the energy of punk and the melody of the Beatles.

Listening to Black Sabbath and Ozzy records, equipped me with a sonic palette ready to capture the wave of alternative music emmerging from the Brisbane scene.

While Ozzy’s death is no surprise (except for those who never thought he’d last this long), we should take pause and remember an icon with an endless energy for entertaining, a passion for music, and changing the expectations of popular culture for more than 50 years.

The Conversation

Lachlan Goold 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 incredible impact of Ozzy Osbourne, from Black Sabbath to Ozzfest to 30 years of retirement tours – https://theconversation.com/the-incredible-impact-of-ozzy-osbourne-from-black-sabbath-to-ozzfest-to-30-years-of-retirement-tours-258820

‘Eat the rich’ — Why horror films are taking aim at the ultra-wealthy

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Heather Roberts, PhD Candidate in Screen Cultures and Curatorial Studies, Queen’s University, Ontario

Samara Weaving in the horror film ‘Ready or Not.’ Weaving plays Grace, a bride who must survive until dawn on her wedding day as her in-laws hunt her down. (Searchlight Pictures)

This story contains spoilers about ‘Ready or Not’ and ‘The Menu.’

When Amazon founder Jeff Bezos and fiancée Lauren Sánchez held their lavish three-day wedding celebration in Venice recently, it wasn’t just a party — it was a spectacle of wealth, reportedly costing between US$47 million and US$56 million.

Critics highlighted the environmental toll of such an event on the fragile, flood-prone city, while protesters took to the streets to condemn the wedding as a tone-deaf symbol of oligarchical wealth at a time when many can’t afford to pay rent, let alone rent an island.

The excessive show of opulence felt like the opening of a horror film, and lately, that’s exactly what horror has been giving us. In films like Ready or Not (2019) and The Menu (2022), the rich aren’t simply out of touch; they’re portrayed as predators, criminals or even monsters.




Read more:
Horror comedy ‘The Menu’ delves into foodie snobbery when you’re dying for a cheeseburger


These “eat-the-rich” films channel widespread anxieties about the current socioeconomic climate and increasing disillusionment with capitalist systems.

In a world where the wealthy and powerful often seem to act with impunity, these films expose upper-class immorality and entitlement, and offer revenge fantasies where those normally crushed by the system fight back or burn it all down.

Horror takes aim at the wealthy

Originally a quote from social theorist Jean-Jacques Rousseau during the French Revolution, “eat the rich” has re-emerged in recent years in public protests and on social media in response to increasing socioeconomic inequality.

In cinema, eat-the-rich films often use grotesque hyperbole or satire to reveal and critique capitalist systems and the behaviours of the wealthy elite.

Film scholar Robin Wood argues that horror films enact a return of what is repressed by dominant bourgeois — that is, capitalist — ideology, typically embodied by the figure of the monster.

He cites The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974), a classic example of anti-capitalist sentiment in horror that depicts Leatherface (Gunnar Hansen) and his working-class family as monstrous victims of the 1970s industrial collapse. Rather than accept repression, they return as cannibalistic monsters, making visible the brutality of capitalist systems that exploit and degrade people like obsolete commodities.

But in eat-the-rich horror, it is the wealthy themselves who become the monsters. The locus of repression becomes their privilege, which is often built on exploitation, inequality and invisible or normalized forms of harm.

These films render these abstract systems tangible by making the elite’s monstrosity visible, literal and grotesque.

Revenge horror for the 99 per cent

Recent horror films are increasingly using genre conventions to critique wealth, privilege and the systems that sustain them.

Ready or Not turns the rich into bloodthirsty monsters who maintain their fortune through satanic rituals and human sacrifice. Grace (Samara Weaving) marries into the Le Domas family, board game magnates who initiate new family members with a deadly game of hide-and-seek. She must survive until dawn while her new in-laws hunt her down to fulfil a demonic pact.

The film critiques the idea of inherited wealth as something earned or honourable, combining humour and horror to reflect anxieties about class entrenchment and the moral decay of the elite.

Trailer for the 2019 horror film ‘Ready or Not.’

The Le Domases are monstrous not only for their violence, but for how casually they justify it. When several maids are accidentally killed in the chaos, they react with self-pity, indifferent to who must be sacrificed to maintain their wealth.

In The Menu, the rich are portrayed as monstrous not through physical violence, but through their moral failings — like financial crimes and infidelity — and their hollow consumption of culture.

Celebrity chef Julian Slowik (Ralph Fiennes) lures wealthy foodies to his exclusive island restaurant, using food as a weaponized form of art to expose guests’ hypocrisy and misdeeds. In one scene, guests are served tortillas laser-printed with incriminating images, such as banking records and evidence of fraudulent activity.

The tortilla scene from the 2022 horror film ‘The Menu.’

The film criticizes consumption in an industry where food is no longer a source of enjoyment or sustenance, but a status symbol for the elite to display their wealth and taste.

Why these films are striking a nerve now

It’s no surprise that audiences are turning to horror to make sense of systems that feel increasingly bleak and inescapable. In Canada, the cost of living continues to outpace wages, housing affordability remains an issue for many, while grocery prices are a source of horror in their own right.

A university degree, once considered a reliable path to stability, no longer guarantees the financial security of a salaried job. Many Canadians now rely on gig economy jobs as supplementary income.

Meanwhile, the wealth gap is increasing and obscene displays of wealth — like a multi-million-dollar wedding — can feel disconnected, even offensive, to people experiencing financial precarity.

Eat-the-rich films tap into this collective sense of injustice, transforming economic and social anxieties into a cathartic spectacle where ultra-wealthy villains are held accountable for their actions.

Screencap of a movie showing an older white man in a chef uniform standing beside a young white woman in a slip dress
Margot, played by Anya Taylor-Joy, and executive chef Julian Slowik, played by Ralph Fiennes, in ‘The Menu.’
(Eric Zachanowich/Searchlight Pictures)

At the end of Ready or Not, the members of the Le Domas family explode one by one and their mansion burns down. In The Menu, the guests are dressed up like s’mores and immolated. In both films, fire serves as a symbolic cleansing of the wealthy, their power and the systems that protect them.

More than that, these films provide someone to root for: working-class protagonists who are targeted by the elite but ultimately survive. Former foster child Grace fights her way through a pack of murderous millionaires, while escort Margot/Erin (Anya Taylor-Joy) is spared when she rejects the pretentiousness of fine dining and orders a humble cheeseburger instead.

In this way, horror becomes a form of narrative resistance, illustrating class rage through characters who refuse to be consumed by the systems trying to oppress them. While inequality and exploitation persist in reality, eat-the-rich films offer escape, and even justice, on screen.

The Conversation

Heather Roberts 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. ‘Eat the rich’ — Why horror films are taking aim at the ultra-wealthy – https://theconversation.com/eat-the-rich-why-horror-films-are-taking-aim-at-the-ultra-wealthy-260550

Yellowknife’s Giant Mine: Canada downplayed arsenic exposure as an Indigenous community was poisoned

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Arn Keeling, Professor, Department of Geography, Memorial University of Newfoundland

Giant Mine, just north of Yellowknife, N.W.T., in September 2011. The gold mine officially opened in 1948 and was operational for over 50 years before it was closed in 2004. (John Sandlos)

Decades of gold mining at Giant Mine in Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, has left a toxic legacy: 237,000 tonnes of arsenic trioxide dust stored in underground chambers.

As a multi-billion government remediation effort to clean up the mine site and secure the underground arsenic ramps up, the Canadian government is promising to deal with the mine’s disastrous consequences for local Indigenous communities.

In March, the minister for Crown-Indigenous relations appointed a ministerial special representative, Murray Rankin, to investigate how historic mining affected the treaty rights of the Yellowknives Dene First Nation.

We document this history in our forthcoming book, The Price of Gold: Mining, Pollution, and Resistance in Yellowknife, exposing how colonialism, corporate greed and lax regulation led to widespread air and water pollution, particularly affecting Tatsǫ́t’ıné (Yellowknives Dene) communities.

We also highlight the struggle for pollution controls and public health led by Tatsǫ́t’ıné and their allies, including mine workers.

Sickness from Giant Mine

The story begins when prospectors discovered a rich gold ore body at Giant Mine in the 1930s. While mining started at the nearby Con Mine in the late 1930s, Giant’s development was interrupted by the Second World War. Only with new investment and the lifting of wartime labour restrictions in 1948 did Giant Mine start production.

Mining at Giant was a challenge. Much of the gold was locked within arsenopyrite formations, and to get at it, workers needed to crush, then roast the gold ore at very high temperatures.

This burned off the arsenic in the ore before using cyanide treatment to extract gold. One byproduct of this process was thousands of tonnes per day of arsenic trioxide, sent up a smokestack into the local environment.

In addition to being acutely toxic, arsenic trioxide is also linked to lung and skin cancers, though scientific understanding of environmental exposures was inconclusive at the time.

Archival records show that federal public health officials recommended the roaster be shut down until arsenic emissions could be controlled. But the company and federal mining regulators dragged their feet, fearing the economic impact.

The result, in 1951, was the poisoning death of at least one Dene child on Latham Island (now Ndilǫ), near the mine; his family was compensated a paltry $750. Many Dene in Ndilǫ relied on snow melt for drinking water, and there were reports of widespread sickness in the community. Local animals, including dairy cattle and sled dogs, also became sick and died.

Only after this tragedy did the federal government force the company to implement pollution controls. The control system was not terribly effective at first, though as it improved, arsenic emissions dropped dramatically from nearly 12,000 pounds per day to around 115 pounds per day in 1959. Thousands of tonnes of arsenic captured through this process was collected and stored in mined-out chambers underground.

Fighting back against pollution

Throughout the 1960s, public health officials continually downplayed concerns about arsenic exposure in Yellowknife, whether via drinking water or on local vegetables.

By the 1970s, however, latent public health concerns over arsenic exposure in Yellowknife became a major national media story. It began with a CBC Radio As it Happens episode in 1975 that unearthed an unreleased government report documenting widespread, chronic arsenic exposure in the city. Facing accusations of a cover-up, the federal government dismissed health concerns even as it set up a local study group to investigate them.

Suspicious of government studies and disregard for local health risks, Indigenous communities and workers took matters into their own hands. A remarkable alliance emerged between the Indian Brotherhood of the Northwest Territories and the United Steelworkers of America (the union representing Giant Mine workers) to undertake their own investigations.

They conducted hair samplings of Dene children and mine workers — the population most exposed to arsenic in the community — and submitted them for laboratory analysis.

The resulting report accused the federal government of suppressing health information and suggested children and workers were being poisoned. The controversy made national headlines yet again, prompting an independent inquiry by the Canadian Public Health Association.

The association’s 1978 report somewhat quelled public concern. But environmental and public health advocates in Yellowknife continued their fight for pollution reduction through the 1980s.

Giant’s toxic afterlife

As Giant Mine entered the turbulent final decade of its life, including a violent lockout in 1992, public concern mounted over the growing environmental liabilities. Most urgently, people living in and near Yellowknife began to realize that enough arsenic trioxide had been stored underground over the years to poison every human on the planet four times over.

Without constant pumping of groundwater out of the mine, the highly soluble arsenic could seep into local waterways, including Yellowknife Bay. When the company that owned the mine, Royal Oak Mines, went bankrupt in 1999, it left no clear plan for the remediation of this toxic material, and very little money to deal with it.

The federal government assumed primary responsibility for the abandoned mine and, in the quarter century since, developed plans to clean up the site and stabilize the arsenic underground by freezing it — an approach that will cost more than $4 billion.

Public concern and activism by Yellowknives Dene First Nation and other Yellowknifers prompted a highly contested environmental assessment and the creation of an independent oversight body, the Giant Mine Oversight Board in 2015. Under the current remediation strategy, the toxic waste at Giant Mine will require perpetual care, imposing a financial and environmental burden on future generations.

The long history of historical injustice resulting from mineral development and pollution around Yellowknife remains unaddressed. In support of calls for an apology and compensation, the Yellowknives Dene First Nation recently published reports that include oral testimony and other evidence of impacts on their health and land in their traditional territory.

Hopefully, the Canadian government’s appointment of the special representative means the colonial legacy of the mine will finally be addressed. Giant Mine serves as a warning about the current push from governments and industry to ram through development projects without environmental assessments or Indigenous consultations.

Extractive projects may generate short-term wealth, but they also compromise the national interest if they saddle the public with enormous costs and long-term consequences.

The Conversation

Arn Keeling receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council and National Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada.

John Sandlos receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

ref. Yellowknife’s Giant Mine: Canada downplayed arsenic exposure as an Indigenous community was poisoned – https://theconversation.com/yellowknifes-giant-mine-canada-downplayed-arsenic-exposure-as-an-indigenous-community-was-poisoned-261002

Popular Tunisian island’s cultural heritage at risk due to tourism, neglect and climate change

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Majdi Faleh, Academic Fellow & Lecturer in Architecture and Cultural Heritage, Nottingham Trent University

The Sidi Yati mosque in Djerba, which dates back to the 10th century, has been damaged by coastal erosion. Mehdi Elouati, CC BY-NC-ND

Nestled in the southern Mediterranean, off the south-east coast of Tunisia, lies the island of Djerba. With a rich cultural and religious history, it has been a crossroad of many civilisations, including the Phoenicians, Romans, Byzantines and Arabs, and is home to many unique architectural sites. These include the Sedouikech underground mosque, St Joseph’s Church and the El Ghriba Synagogue.

But, for many years, Djerba’s cultural heritage has been in danger. This is due to a combination of over-tourism, environmental change and human neglect.

An underground mosque on the island of Djerba.
An underground mosque on the island of Djerba.
Mariana Delca / Shutterstock

By the 1990s to early 2000s, when Djerba was at the height of its popularity, the island was attracting between 1 million and 1.5 million visitors each year. It is one of Tunisia’s most popular tourist areas, with more hotels than any other destination in the country.

Tourism has resulted in excessive tourist traffic in Djerba, particularly during the summer. It has also contributed to other problems such as water stress and waste generation. According to figures from 2020, hotels alone generate between 35% and 40% of all the waste on the island.

But the development of tourism has, above all, altered Djerba’s cultural landscape. In some areas of the island, Djerba’s traditional housing – houmas, menzels and houchs – have given way to more modern tourist infrastructure.

This has accelerated since Tunisia’s 2011 revolution, when long-time dictator Zine El Abidine Ben Ali was ousted. Weak institutional oversight has led to vandalism, illegal construction on archaeological sites and unauthorised demolitions.

The development of tourism on Djerba has also eroded traditional ways of life. The island has experienced significant changes due to tourism, with the development of roads, ferries, an airport and the internet leading to a decline in traditional activity. Livelihoods like agriculture, fishing and artisanal crafts have declined and are often now showcased only in tourist areas.

A man wearing traditional dress walks down a street in Djerba.
Life on Djerba has changed since it was opened up for tourism.
BTWImages / Shutterstock

Climate change has worsened Djerba’s problems. Rainfall patterns have changed across the island over recent decades, with models suggesting that annual precipitation rates could drop 20% by the end of the century. More frequent and prolonged droughts are expected.

At the same time, rising sea levels and increasingly common storm surges are affecting the island. Research from 2022 found that 14% of Djerba’s beaches are now highly vulnerable to submersion and coastal erosion.

Several historical monuments on Djerba have already experienced periodic flooding and saltwater intrusion. The ruins of Sidi Garous and the shrine of Sidi Bakour are now entirely underwater and have been replaced by memorials.

Other archaeological sites located near the coast like Haribus, Meninx, Ghizene and Edzira, some of which date back to the Roman era (eighth century BC to fifth century AD), are now partially or fully submerged. Studies by Tunisia’s National Institute of Heritage suggest that many of these sites have been lost permanently to the encroaching sea.

World heritage site

Significant portions of Djerba’s cultural heritage have already been erased by sea-level rise and coastal erosion. Future losses could be even more severe. The island’s cultural heritage will only grow more precarious without meaningful preservation and climate adaptation efforts.

However, many of Djerba’s monuments, historical buildings and traditional dwellings have suffered from years of neglect. A chronic lack of local and international funding, as well as weak institutional frameworks for heritage management, mean some of the island’s historic structures have been abandoned. Many other buildings have deteriorated due to a lack of protective measures and maintenance.

Community organisations such as the Association for the Safeguarding of the Island of Djerba have tried to step in to fill the void left by weak institutional frameworks. Their work ranges from delivering public awareness campaigns to local young people to efforts like re-purposing ancient rainwater tanks to manage periods of drought.

But these grassroots efforts alone are not enough to stop Djerba’s cultural heritage from deteriorating at its current pace.

The ruins of a Housh on Djerba.
The ruins of a Housh, a traditional dwelling, on the island of Djerba.
Ahmed Bedoui, CC BY-NC-ND

In September 2023, the UN Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (Unesco) announced that it was adding Djerba to its list of world heritage sites. Tunisia’s culture ministry welcomed the decision. It followed years of efforts by local groups and government officials to add Djerba to the list.

Djerba’s inclusion offers hope for the long-term preservation of the island’s heritage. A world heritage site designation increases global recognition and enables improved access to sources of funding.

And since Djerba’s classification, there has been some progress. The culture ministry has established a task force to monitor the construction of buildings and other infrastructure, collect data on designated protected areas, and prepare projects to preserve heritage sites.

But Djerba’s cultural heritage remains in danger. Improved preservation of these sites will require continuous funding and stringent regulation of tourism and construction activities.

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. Popular Tunisian island’s cultural heritage at risk due to tourism, neglect and climate change – https://theconversation.com/popular-tunisian-islands-cultural-heritage-at-risk-due-to-tourism-neglect-and-climate-change-223612

Farewell to summer? ‘Haze’ and ‘trash’ among Earth’s new seasons as climate change and pollution play havoc

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Felicia Liu, Lecturer (Assistant Professor) in Sustainability, University of York

Throughout history, people have viewed seasons as relatively stable, recurrent blocks of time that neatly align farming, cultural celebrations and routines with nature’s cycles. But the seasons as we know them are changing. Human activity is rapidly transforming the Earth, and once reliable seasonal patterns are becoming unfamiliar.

In our recent study, we argue that new seasons are surfacing. These emergent seasons are entirely novel and anthropogenic (in other words, made by humans).

Examples include “haze seasons” in the northern and equatorial nations of south-east Asia, when the sky is filled with smoke for several weeks. This is caused by widespread burning of vegetation to clear forests and make way for agriculture during particularly dry times of year.

Or there is the annual “trash season”, during which tidal patterns bring plastic to the shores of Bali, Indonesia, between November and March.


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At the same time, some seasons are disappearing altogether, with profound consequences for ecosystems and cultures. These extinct seasons can encompass drastically altered or terminated migratory animal behaviour, such as the decline of seabird breeding seasons in northern England.

Climate change is also calling time on traditional winter sport seasons by making snow scarcer in alpine regions.

Nature’s new rhythms

Perhaps more common are “syncopated seasons”. The changes are akin to new emphases on beats or off-beats in familiar music that capture the listener’s attention.

Syncopated seasons include hotter summers and milder winters in temperate climates, with increasingly frequent and severe extreme weather that exposes more people and ecosystems to stress.

The timings of key seasonal events, like when leaves fall or certain migratory species arrive, are becoming more unpredictable. We coined the term “arrhythmic seasons”, a concept borrowed from cardiology, to refer to abnormal rhythms which include earlier springs or breeding seasons, longer summers or growing seasons, and shorter winters or hibernating seasons.

Changing seasonal patterns throw the interdependent life cycles of plants and animals out of sync with each other, and disrupt the communities that are economically, socially and culturally dependent on them.

In northern Thailand, human activity has reshaped nature’s rhythms and affected the supply of water and food in turn. Communities along the Mekong river’s tributaries have relied on the seasonal flow of rivers to fish and farm for generations.

At first, upstream dams disrupted these cycles by blocking fish migration and preventing the accumulation of sediment that farms need for soil. More recently, climate change has shifted rainfall patterns and made dry seasons longer and rainy seasons shorter but more intense, bringing fires and further uncertainty to farmers.

Let’s rethink time

How we react to changing seasonal patterns can either worsen or improve environmental conditions. In south-east Asia, public awareness of the “haze season” has led to better forecasting, the installation of air filters in homes and the establishment of public health initiatives.

These efforts help communities adapt. But if society only uses adaptive fixes like these, it can make the haze worse over time by failing to tackle its root causes. By recognising this new season, societies might normalise the recurrence of haze and isolate anyone who demands the government and businesses deal with deforestation and burning.

Powerful institutions like these shape narratives about seasonal crises to minimise their responsibility and shift blame elsewhere. Understanding these dynamics is crucial to fostering accountability and ensuring fair responses.

The shifting seasons require us to rethink our relationship with time and the environment. Today, most of us think about time in terms of days, hours and minutes, which is a globalised standard used everywhere from smartphones to train timetables. But this way of keeping time forgets older and more local ways of understanding time – those that are shaped by natural rhythms, such as the arrival of the rainy season, or solar and lunar cycles, rooted in the lives and cultures of different communities.

Diverse perspectives, especially those from Indigenous knowledge systems, can enhance our ability to respond to environmental changes. Integrating alternative time-keeping methods into mainstream practices could foster fairer and more effective solutions to environmental problems.

Seasons are more than just divisions of time – they connect us with nature. Finding synchrony with changing seasonal rhythms is essential for building a sustainable future.


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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. Farewell to summer? ‘Haze’ and ‘trash’ among Earth’s new seasons as climate change and pollution play havoc – https://theconversation.com/farewell-to-summer-haze-and-trash-among-earths-new-seasons-as-climate-change-and-pollution-play-havoc-260765

From ‘MMS’ to ‘aerobic oxygen’, why drinking bleach has become a dangerous wellness trend

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Adam Taylor, Professor of Anatomy, Lancaster University

Grossinger/Shutterstock

If something online promises to cure everything, it’s probably too good to be true. One of the most dangerous examples? Chlorine dioxide is often marketed under names like “Miracle Mineral Solution (MMS)” or “aerobic oxygen”, buzzwords that hint at health and vitality.

But in reality, these products can make you violently ill within hours – and in some cases, they can be fatal.

Despite what the name suggests, MMS is not just bleach. Bleach contains sodium hypochlorite, whereas MMS contains sodium chlorite – a different but equally toxic chemical.

When ingested, sodium chlorite can cause methemoglobinemia, a condition where red blood cells lose their ability to carry oxygen. It can also trigger haemolysis (the rupture of red blood cells), followed by kidney failure and death.


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When sodium chlorite mixes with acid (such as stomach acid), it converts into chlorine dioxide, a bleaching agent. This compound has strong antimicrobial properties: it can kill bacteria, fungi and even viruses like SARS-CoV-2. For that reason, it’s commonly used in sanitising dental equipment and hospital tools like endoscopes. Its effectiveness at killing over 400 bacterial species makes it useful in cleaning – but not in humans.

While the mouth and oesophagus are lined with multiple cell layers, offering some protection, the stomach and intestines are far more vulnerable. These organs have a single-cell lining to absorb nutrients efficiently – but this also means they’re highly sensitive to damage.

That’s why ingesting chlorine dioxide often leads to nausea, vomiting, abdominal pain, and diarrhoea. In extreme cases, the chemical can burn through the gut lining, leading to bowel perforation – a medical emergency with a high risk of death.

Using MMS as an enema is equally dangerous. Chlorine dioxide can trigger an overproduction of reactive oxygen species – unstable molecules that damage cells and contribute to chronic gut conditions. This cellular stress may explain both the immediate symptoms and the long-term injuries seen in reported cases.

It doesn’t make a good mouthwash, either

Some sellers claim MMS can be used safely in the mouth because it’s found in dental cleaners. But clinical trials show it’s no more effective than other mouthwashes, and its oxidising power doesn’t distinguish between harmful microbes and healthy cells.

Yes, it may temporarily reduce bad breath, but it also disrupts protein synthesis, damages cell membranes, and harms the gut microbiome – the collection of helpful bacteria we rely on for digestion and immune health.

Chlorine dioxide doesn’t just attack the gut. It also affects the cardiovascular system. Documented risks include low blood pressure, fainting, and cardiac damage – including stroke and shock.

In some cases, it causes a dangerous blood disorder called disseminated intravascular coagulation (DIC). This condition causes abnormal clotting, followed by severe bleeding and potential organ failure, stroke and death.

Chlorine dioxide is also a respiratory irritant. Inhalation can inflame the nose, throat and lungs, and in severe cases, cause respiratory distress – particularly with repeated exposure in workplaces.

Studies of factory workers show that even low doses can lead to nasal inflammation, coughing and breathing difficulties. And some patients who drank chlorine dioxide to “treat” COVID-19 ended up with severe chemical lung injuries.

Risks to the brain, hormones and skin

Animal studies suggest chlorine dioxide can harm the nervous system, causing developmental delays, reduced movement, and slower brain growth. It also appears to affect the thyroid, potentially causing hormonal disruptions and delayed puberty.

It doesn’t stop there. Some people who consume chlorine dioxide also develop cerebral salt wasting syndrome, a condition where the kidneys lose too much sodium, leading to excessive urination, dehydration and dangerously low blood volume.

Skin contact isn’t safe either. Chlorine dioxide can irritate the skin, and lab studies show it can kill skin cells at high concentrations. People who’ve used it to treat fungal infections have ended up with chemical dermatitis instead.

Chlorine dioxide can be useful for disinfecting hospital tools, dental equipment and water supplies. But that doesn’t mean it belongs in your body. Many of its supposed “benefits” come from lab studies or animal research – not from safe, approved human trials.

There’s no evidence that drinking it cures any disease. There’s overwhelming evidence that it can harm or kill you.

So, if you’re tempted by a product that promises miracles with science-y language and zero regulation, take a step back. The risks are very real – and very dangerous.

The Conversation

Adam Taylor 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. From ‘MMS’ to ‘aerobic oxygen’, why drinking bleach has become a dangerous wellness trend – https://theconversation.com/from-mms-to-aerobic-oxygen-why-drinking-bleach-has-become-a-dangerous-wellness-trend-260761