Category: MIL-OSI

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Justin Stebbing, Professor of Biomedical Sciences, Anglia Ruskin University

Marriage, it turns out, may come with a side‑effect no one puts in the vows: people who have been married seem less likely to develop cancer than those who have never married at all.

That is the provocative finding from a large new study that has raised interesting questions about what really keeps us healthy over a lifetime. If marriage shows up in the data as “protective”, is it love that matters, the piece of paper, or something much bigger hiding in the background?

In this analysis, researchers looked at cancer diagnoses in more than 4 million adults across 12 US states, representing a population of over 100 million people. They focused on cancers diagnosed after the age of 30 between 2015 and 2022 – a modern snapshot taken in an era when same‑sex marriage is legal nationwide, so marriage includes more people than ever.

Everyone was divided into two camps: those who were or had ever been married, including divorced and widowed people, and those who had never married at all. Around one in five adults landed in this never‑married group, a sizeable minority whose health has often been overlooked in traditional family‑centred research.

When the researchers compared the numbers, the gap was impossible to ignore. Men who had never married were about 70% more likely to develop cancer than men who had married at some point, while women who had never married were about 85% more likely to develop cancer than women who were or had been married.

More advantage to women

That last figure is especially notable, because many earlier studies suggested that men gained more from marriage than women. Here, women appear to gain at least as much, if not more. And the differences grew wider with age, especially after 50, when the consequences of decades of habits – smoking, diet, exercise, medical check‑ups, or the lack of them – finally rise to the surface.

The gap was not the same for every cancer, which is where the story becomes more revealing.

For anal cancer in men and cervical cancer in women – two diseases closely linked to infection with the sexually transmitted human papillomavirus (HPV) – the differences were enormous. Never‑married men had around five times the rate of anal cancer compared with men who had married.

Never‑married women had nearly three times the rate of cervical cancer. These are precisely the cancers where preventive tools already exist: HPV vaccination and regular screening to catch pre‑cancerous changes early.

The study’s authors suggest that being married may increase the chances that someone is nudged into attending those appointments, or into having more stable healthcare and insurance.

Elsewhere, the pattern echoed long‑known biological themes. Cancers such as endometrial and ovarian cancer were more common in never‑married women, which may reflect lower rates of childbearing, since pregnancy and childbirth alter hormone exposure in ways that can reduce risk, as research my team has undertaken shows.

By contrast, for cancers strongly influenced by organised screening – breast, prostate, thyroid – the differences by marital status were smaller. Screening levels the playing field, regardless of whether someone has a spouse reminding them about their appointments.

Even race played an unexpected part. Black men who had never married had the highest overall cancer rates in the study, yet married black men actually had lower cancer rates than married white men, hinting that marriage might be especially protective in some groups.

Nothing magical about marriage, per se

So does this mean marriage itself somehow protects people from cancer? The researchers are careful to say no. Their study shows a pattern, not proof that marriage is the cause.

The real question is whether marriage makes people healthier, or whether healthier, wealthier and better-supported people are simply more likely to get married in the first place. People facing serious mental illness, addiction, chronic illness or deep poverty may be less likely to marry, and those same struggles are also linked to a higher risk of cancer. In that sense, marriage may be less a cause than a sign of other advantages that begin long before anyone walks down the aisle.

There are other reasons to be cautious, too. The “ever married” group bundles together happily married people with those who are divorced or widowed, despite the fact that those experiences can look very different in practice. Meanwhile, the “never married” group includes people in long-term relationships who may receive much of the same support as married couples. The researchers also cannot fully account for differences in income, education or access to healthcare – all of which strongly shape cancer risk in their own right.

Even so, the study points to something important. People who are or have been married are more likely to have someone encouraging them to see a doctor, to share financial resources and health insurance, and to be less likely to smoke heavily or avoid medical care. Over many years, those small differences can add up, shaping the risks people carry and influencing which cancers eventually develop – and which never do.

If you have never married, none of this is a personal health verdict. What the study really underlines is the need to ensure that the quiet advantages so often bundled with marriage – social support, gentle “nagging” to seek help, easier access to healthcare – are not reserved only for those with wedding photos on the mantelpiece.

Single people, widowed people, those who live alone or outside traditional coupledom, may need more targeted support to get to screening, to be offered vaccinations like HPV, and to have their concerns taken seriously. As more people choose to stay single, or to build lives outside marriage, those questions will only become more urgent.

In the end, this study is less a love letter to marriage than a reminder that our bodies are shaped not just by genes and chance, but by the social structures we move through. The people who notice when we’re unwell, encourage us to book that test, and help determine whether we can afford to act on that advice may leave traces visible years later under a microscope. The deeper challenge for public health and policy is to deliver the benefits of connection, stability and access to care to everyone – including those who never say “I do.”

Justin Stebbing 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. Does marriage prevent cancer? And who benefits the most? – https://theconversation.com/does-marriage-prevent-cancer-and-who-benefits-the-most-280297

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Jane Wright, Commissioning Editor, Arts & Culture, The Conversation

In the bustling Aberdeenshire town of Braemar, close to the late Queen’s beloved Balmoral, there’s a rather chi-chi hotel called the Fife Arms. Originally a stout stone Victorian building for tweedy country types, it is now a fabulous art-filled mecca of maximalism, attracting celebrities and wealthy Londoners looking for a bit of Highland bling.

There’s a Freud in the lobby, a Picasso in the drawing room, and a winged stag in the dining room, but perhaps most interesting of all, there’s a cocktail bar called Elsa’s, named after Elsa Schiaparelli, the Italian fashion designer. With strong art deco vibes, accents of shocking pink and a menu of exquisite concoctions served in elegant stemmed glasses, Elsa’s has to be the coolest place for a martini north of Edinburgh.

I had heard of Schiaparelli, but the actual woman herself, I knew very little of. And what a woman! Now the V&A’s latest blockbuster exhibition, Schiaparelli: Fashion Becomes Art, brings to life the story of the designer who came to Paris at 23, and gave Coco Chanel a run for her money between the wars.

Where Chanel pursued simple elegance and minimalist style, Schiaparelli – a prominent surrealist alongside the likes of Man Ray and Salvador Dali – loved adornment, embellishment and trompe l’oeil designs. She was the first to create shoulder pads, use animal prints and employ unusual pocket placement. And of course, Schiaparelli is forever remembered as the woman who created “shocking pink”.

Designing fashion as a surrealist, her sculptural shapes and arresting details (the shoe hat, anyone?) were only for the most audacious women. When she retired to Tunisia in 1954, the house of Schiaparelli was no more. But in 2019, to great excitement, the name was revived under the direction of designer Daniel Roseberry who has restored Schiaparelli’s reputation for unpredictable daring. If you love fashion, this is a show you should not miss.

Resistance and rebellion

Two very different portrayals of resistance are on release this week. First, The Testaments is a TV adaptation of Margaret Atwood’s sequel to The Handmaid’s Tale which was turned into a TV drama in 2017 and ran for six seasons. The show quickly transcended its source material, our reviewer Debra Ferreday explains, “to become a feminist touchstone, inspiring a vivid visual and cultural language of resistance across politics, performance, music and the arts” – just as life in the US became an eerie echo of Atwood’s world.

In the Gilead of The Testaments, women still exist within an enforced patriarchal rape culture where Handmaids are reduced to brood mares. Here, violence masquerades as justice and entertainment, and control, order and cleanliness are paramount. But this world is not without hope as the young women find subversive ways to resist and rebel, finding solidarity, connection and even joy in likeminded souls.

My Undesirable Friends Part I is Julia Loktev’s extraordinary documentary about young journalists fighting to report the truth in Putin’s Russia. Filmed on her iPhone over four months in late 2021 and early 2022, Loktev follows the lives of her friends as they share their fears over the worsening political situation.

From concerns over increasing censorship to their horror at the invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, Loktev captures their earnest discussions of widespread abuses of power as the more democratic society they had hoped for slips away. But just like The Testaments, these young people find courage and resilience as the film examines how they can resist an oppressive state, stay safe – and know when it’s time to get out.

Horror real and imagined

For ten years architect Albert Speer was a friend and protege of Hitler, elevated to being in command of Germany’s military equipment throughout the war. His impressive orchestration of the Nuremberg rallies as architectural spectacle fed Hitler’s propaganda machine and contributed to Nazism’s dark mythology. And yet he somehow resisted being absorbed into it in same the way as Goebbels, Goring or Himmler, often viewed as a “good Nazi”.

This is down to the dedicated self-mythologising he embarked on after the war which many regarded as bare-faced lies, evasions and self delusion. Speer is now the subject of a masterful novel by Jean-Noël Orengo, which seeks to examine how Hitler’s courtier was able to so successfully rehabilitate his image, exploring important questions of Nazi memory, myth-making and moral reckoning.

My favourite kind of horror film is one that slowly builds an almost unbearable sense of dread and unease. This week’s Undertone sounds like it fits that bill perfectly. Evy is a young woman looking after her dying mother at home while co-hosting a podcast that explores supernatural phenomena.

A non-believer to her co-host Justin’s acceptance of the paranormal, Evy records in the middle of the night, as Justin lives in a different time zone. As the pair begin to explore a particularly disturbing case based on audio clips, Evy’s scepticism deserts her. The genius here is that the horror lies purely and intimately in sound. It is not a film, our reviewer warns, for the faint of heart.

– ref. A surrealist fashionista, a Nazi fantasist and the return of Atwood’s Handmaids – what to see, read and watch this week – https://theconversation.com/a-surrealist-fashionista-a-nazi-fantasist-and-the-return-of-atwoods-handmaids-what-to-see-read-and-watch-this-week-280305

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Jolel Miah, Senior Lecturer, Health Psychology, University of Westminster

Riz Ahmed’s Bait is an exceptional piece of television. Not only for its satirical exploration of the entertainment industry, but for the psychological narrative running underneath it.

At its heart, the Prime Video series is a quietly devastating study of the pressures placed upon British‑Pakistani men. What appears to be an eccentric comedy about a struggling actor auditioning for James Bond soon reveals itself to be a nuanced portrayal of shame, internalised stigma and the early signs of psychosis.

The series follows Shah Latif (Ahmed), whose obsessive pursuit of validation becomes a catalyst for a psychological unravelling. Shah’s downward spiral is shaped by relentless scrutiny and the fear of not belonging. These themes resonate strongly with a growing body of research on psychosis in British‑Pakistani communities.

A 2024 study in The British Journal of Psychiatry found a significantly higher incidence of first‑episode psychosis among British‑Pakistanis, compared with the majority population.

This offers an important parallel to Bait. Shah’s sense of cultural drift, his distance from grounding community structures and his struggle to inhabit multiple identities all heighten his vulnerability.

The show does not name psychosis explicitly, but Shah experiences intrusive thoughts, escalating paranoia, fragmentation of self and delusions. This reflects real trajectories observed in early intervention services.

Racism and psychosis

One of the most incisive threads in the series is the portrayal of racial microaggressions that Shah absorbs without resistance. These include remarks about his “Britishness”, comments on his appearance, and the persistent insinuation that he exists outside the cultural centre.

Recent research has shown that racial discrimination is one of the strongest predictors of psychosis risk. It increases the likelihood of psychotic symptoms by 77%, with physical racial attacks multiplying the risk five-fold.

Shah’s encounters – ranging from subtle jabs to overt dismissal – operate cumulatively, shaping his internal monologue and eroding his self-esteem. The brilliance of Bait lies in how it embeds these aggressions into the comedic structure, illustrating the subtle normalisation of harm.

The series highlights the importance of family dynamics, a key but under-researched factor in understanding psychosis among South Asian Muslims in the UK. A 2009 study found that families often had to navigate stigma, concerns about privacy and honour, and tensions between medical models of illness and culturally rooted understandings of distress.

Shah’s relationship with his family shifts between warmth, expectation and pressure, reflecting this complexity. Family can act as both a source of support and a cause of psychological strain.

Research examining British-Pakistani Muslim views on mental health has found that cultural stigma, fear of public opinion, and uncertainty around religious explanations can delay people seeking help.

These dynamics are reflected in the silence running through Shah’s world. Mental health struggles are hinted at but never openly discussed, and Shah instinctively hides his distress behind humour and performance. This also reflects how many communities describe mental health in moral or spiritual terms, rather than psychological ones.

I recently explored these issues in a podcast conversation with Zenab Sabahat, a PhD researcher at the University of Bradford. Her research looks at access to, experiences of and outcomes for South Asian Muslim families receiving family interventions for psychosis. This work explores how cultural identity stress, stigma and mismatches between different models of care shape pathways into support.

Sabahat’s work reinforces what Bait illustrates narratively: that psychological distress among British-Pakistanis is closely linked to experiences of migration, racism, cultural belonging and intergenerational tension.

This reality also underpins the work of Our Minds Matter, the UK charity I co-founded to deliver culturally grounded mental health education and support in under-served communities. The organisation’s mission emphasises the need to address mental health through the lenses of culture, faith and community – approaches that mainstream services often overlook.

Early education, reducing stigma and building culturally sensitive support are essential for addressing the inequalities faced by communities like Shah’s.

Five years ago, our team produced a community-led documentary exploring psychosis. It highlighted the experiences of South Asian families and the urgent need for culturally coherent support structures. The challenges articulated in the documentary continue to be reflected in both academic research and people’s lived experiences today.

What Bait achieves is not simply representation but illumination. It exposes how psychological vulnerability can be fuelled by cultural dislocation, racialised exclusion, and the impossible expectation to excel while carrying generations of unspoken pressure.

Shah’s experiences – humorous, painful and increasingly fractured – mirror the mental health inequalities faced by British‑Pakistani communities, particularly men navigating contradictory identities and structural disadvantage.

The series invites viewers to see psychosis not as an isolated biomedical event, but as a response to accumulated pressures: family honour, societal scrutiny, cultural misrecognition and stigma that constrains emotional expression.

These pressures interact across biological, psychological and social frameworks, creating conditions in which psychosis risk becomes elevated. The show’s understated portrayal of this trajectory offers a culturally specific, psychologically accurate narrative rarely seen in British television.

In a media landscape where the mental health of British South Asian Muslims is often sensationalised or overlooked, Bait offers an important counternarrative. It shows that the intersections of identity, discrimination and cultural expectation are not abstract ideas but lived experiences that shape psychological wellbeing.

The show’s quiet strength lies in revealing these dynamics without being preachy – inviting audiences and practitioners to better understand how culture, racism and mental health intertwine.

Jolel Miah 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. Bait sheds light on British-Pakistani mental health struggles rarely seen on screen – https://theconversation.com/bait-sheds-light-on-british-pakistani-mental-health-struggles-rarely-seen-on-screen-280102

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Christoph Siemroth, Associate Professor (Senior Lecturer) in Economics, University of Essex

The price of oil has changed a lot in the last few weeks. There have been dips as well as peaks, but generally, since the the start of the US-Israeli attacks on Iran at the end of February, the black stuff has been getting more expensive.

As a direct result, petrol and diesel prices in the UK have also rocketed.

Motorists have felt the steep rise on petrol station forecourts, while some fuel sellers have been accused of profiteering and ripping off customers. There have also been calls for the government to intervene to prevent costs from spiralling out of control.

But what can it actually do to bring petrol prices down?

One option might be to impose price caps, setting a legal limit on what motorists can be charged for a litre of fuel. But a major problem with this idea comes down to a lack of supply.

Taking the Strait of Hormuz as a perfect example, if fewer tankers from Kuwait and Qatar are getting through, that means there is less oil available. As stocks runs low, it is impossible for everyone to get the same amount of fuel at the same price as before.

If price caps were introduced (with the supplier taking on the full impact of the discount), the countries and firms with oil to sell would naturally shift their sales to countries willing to pay higher prices. So a price cap would probably lead to empty petrol pumps in the UK.

There have already been shortages in France, where one major fuel provider implemented its own price cap and was subsequently inundated with customers.

In contrast, high fuel prices may persuade households to cut down on consumption, which is helpful when there is less oil available. After all, people don’t switch from travelling by car to public transport (which is often less convenient) unless there is a good reason to do so. High fuel prices are a good reason.

Research suggests that in the UK, a 10% increase in petrol prices can lead to a reduction in demand of up to 5%. So, high prices are a way of adjusting consumption to cope with the lower supply.

Duty calls

In the longer term, households might invest in a way which reduces their dependence on future fossil fuel consumption. Maybe, instead of a big SUV, the next family car will be be smaller or electric.

In the short term, though, demand for petrol and diesel will remain. Not all commuting and travelling can be cancelled or postponed. People need to get to work, children need to go to school.

A more promising policy intervention could be temporary fuel duty discounts – reducing the proportion of fuel costs which ends up in the Treasury. Unlike with price caps, oil exporters’ incentives to sell in the UK are not diminished by reducing fuel duty. So fuel duty cuts wouldn’t cause supply issues.

The issue here is that fuel duty cuts reduce government revenue at a time when it is already seriously stretched. Fuel duty receipts account for almost 2% of UK government income.

Also, the measure is not very targeted. Wealthy households with multiple vehicles would benefit more than a single mother struggling to pay for petrol to get to work.

Making allowances

Another option, favoured by some economists, is based on one-off transfers of money from the state directly to some motorists.

Instead of fuel duty cuts, the government could pay out a fixed sum to those in particular need (much like the winter fuel allowance for heating bills). This could be paid to households under a certain income threshold that own a car.

When a similar transfer scheme for gas was implemented in Germany in 2022 after Russia shut off gas pipelines, firms and households received compensation based on past consumption. Germany was able to reduce its gas consumption by about 20% during that time.

Unlike a fuel duty cut, compensation does not change depending on the amount of fuel bought. So the incentive to cut down on fuel consumption wherever possible remains.

Indeed, households that leave the car at home will profit, as they keep the transfer. This is as it should be: households that use less fuel get rewarded, while those that need it still have some support.

Many economists like this proposal because it keeps prices as an accurate reflection of supply shortages, while providing targeted relief. Neither price caps nor fuel duty cuts achieve this.

Christoph Siemroth previously received funding from the UK Economic and Social Research Council.

– ref. What can governments do when petrol prices rocket? – https://theconversation.com/what-can-governments-do-when-petrol-prices-rocket-280094

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Debra Kelly, Professor of French and Francophone Studies, Cultural Historian, University of Westminster

Director François Ozon’s new film adaptation of Albert Camus’s novel L’Étranger (The Outsider, 1942) confronts a considerable task: turning a brief, philosophical novel into a cinematic experience.

Though the book is short, it is dense and readers often discover it requires multiple readings. Camus’s spare prose conceals profound questions about morality, society and human existence. Translated into over 75 languages with millions of copies sold, The Outsider has inspired stage, screen, radio and even graphic and manga adaptations. It has long been a set text in schools and universities, often perplexing young readers, just as it did a young Ozon. This film offers an invitation to return and reflect on Camus’ work.

The story follows Meursault (Benjamin Voisin), a French-Algerian office worker living in Algiers. The novel famously opens with the death of his mother, whose funeral he attends with apparent emotional detachment. He begins a relationship with Marie (Rebecca Marder), who formerly worked in the same office and becomes involved with Raymond (Pierre Lottin), a neighbour entangled in a violent dispute.

Meursault’s life changes dramatically when he shoots a young Arab man on a sun-drenched beach. The act leads to his arrest and the second part of the novel focuses on his imprisonment and trial. Throughout, Meursault remains a detached observer of the absurdity of existence and the moral expectations of society.

Ozon’s adaptation closely follows this narrative while expanding certain perspectives giving the film its own vitality and richness.

Camus and the challenges of adaptation

In a recent Curzon audience Q&A, Ozon observed that this is a novel every reader has already visualised and staged in their own mind. The director faced not only the expectations of readers’ imagined versions of the story but also the iconic stature of Camus himself.

Born into a poor French settler family in Algeria, afflicted by tuberculosis, Camus rose to become a journalist, playwright, actor, philosopher, member of the French Resistance, world-famous novelist and Nobel laureate (in 1957). His death at the age of 46 in a fatal car accident little more than two years later, with an unused train ticket to Paris in his pocket, added a mythic aura to his life and work.

Shot compellingly in black and white, Ozon’s film moves fluidly between the opening 1930s archive images of Algiers to the film’s recreated streets and natural landscapes with their play of light and shadow. The heat of the sun, the glare of the sea and the tactile presence of sand are central to the story, while also reflecting Camus’s own love of Algeria’s natural riches.

Camus described the story as both abstract and intensely physical – rooted in flesh and heat. Ozon’s film captures that tension between the intellectual and the sensory.

The title of the novel sets up the ambiguities of interpreting and adapting it. Published as The Outsider in the UK and The Stranger in the US, both titles seemingly settle the possibilities of Meursault’s status.

In French, “étranger” may mean stranger, foreigner or outsider – a multiplicity Ozon preserves in his adaptation. Voisin, incarnating Meursault’s stillness and silences on screen, moves between these roles. Among the French quarter’s neighbours, cafes and small businesses, he is just another man. Algerian passers-by, merely glimpsed here, are the strangers, foreigners, outsiders.

Among the Arab prisoners Meursault is imprisoned with, he is suddenly “the foreigner”. The film traces his inexorable shift from detached observer to condemned outsider. The confrontation with the chaplain, a climactic moment in the novel, is key to Ozon’s own vision. Here, Meursault refuses conventional consolation, embodying the “rebel” of Camus’s later philosophical work.

Reclaiming Camus’s ambiguities

The colonial context of L’Etranger has often been politically contested. Camus’s unfinished autobiographical novel, Le Premier Homme (The First Man, 1994) was found at the scene of his death. It reflects his position on Algeria (and on poverty, class and education), which is more complex than trial by the political convictions of various critics allows.

Camus’s detachment from Algerian nationalist movements, along with his choice not to name Arab characters in his fiction (or to avoid them altogether), drew sustained criticism from the French Left and Algerian nationalists in the 1950s and 60s. His vision of a multicultural Algeria – seen by some as utopian and by others as implicitly racist – was later criticised by postcolonial scholars as well. However, these ambiguities are inseparable from Camus’s literary and moral vision and his lived experience.

Ozon’s adaptation speaks to contemporary audiences by giving form to these ambiguities. By expanding the presence of his lover Marie, Ozon provides subtle insights into Meursault, a man condemned because he doesn’t play the game and refuses to lie, as Camus later described him in a 1955 American edition of the novel. Ozon also gives agency to the murdered man’s sister Djemila (also nameless in the novel). These female performances provide the film’s emotional centre.

The film’s careful attention to Algeria, both past and present, meanwhile, reframes The Stranger as a story not just of one man, but of a society. Following the bloody civil war in 1990s Algeria, Camus was “recuperated” by Algerian dissidents against the rise of fundamentalism and reclaimed by new generations of Algerian writers. The final scene of the film honours the murdered “Arab” with the name Moussa, which has been taken from Kamel Daoud’s knowing re-telling, Meursault, Contre-enquête (The Meursault Investigation; 2012).

In doing so, Ozon takes his own place in reclaiming Camus’s moral fable in all its ambiguities. The Stranger retains Camus’s philosophical challenge: to confront the absurdity of existence without surrendering to despair.

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

Debra Kelly 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. In The Stranger François Ozon captures the many ambiguities of Albert Camus’s novel – https://theconversation.com/in-the-stranger-francois-ozon-captures-the-many-ambiguities-of-albert-camuss-novel-279718