Estas son las funciones sociales y emocionales que nunca podrá cubrir un chatbot

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Oliver Serrano León, Director y profesor del Máster de Psicología General Sanitaria, Universidad Europea

Millones de personas conversan con chatbots de forma habitual. Brett Jordan / Unsplash. , CC BY-SA

Millones de personas interactúan a diario con sistemas conversacionales, no solo para resolver dudas o aumentar su productividad, sino también para desahogarse, ordenar pensamientos o sentirse acompañadas.

Lo relevante no es únicamente el avance tecnológico, sino el tipo de vínculo que empieza a emerger. Aplicaciones diseñadas específicamente para ofrecer compañía –como Replika o Character.AI– y herramientas más generalistas como ChatGPT están ocupando un espacio que hasta hace poco pertenecía exclusivamente a las relaciones humanas: el de la interacción emocional cotidiana.

La cuestión ya no es si estas tecnologías pueden conversar de forma convincente sino qué ocurre cuando empezamos a relacionarnos con máquinas que simulan escucharnos, comprendernos y acompañarnos.

Cuando una herramienta se percibe como “alguien”

Desde la psicología social, sabemos que los seres humanos no necesitamos demasiado para activar nuestros mecanismos de interacción social. Basta con que algo responda de forma contingente, coherente y mínimamente personalizada. Este fenómeno, conocido como antropomorfización, describe la tendencia a atribuir mente, intención y emociones a sistemas no humanos.

Los sistemas conversacionales actuales cumplen con creces esas condiciones. Responden rápido, ajustan el lenguaje, recuerdan información previa y simulan estados emocionales. No es que confundamos una IA con una persona; es que nuestro sistema cognitivo no está diseñado para interactuar con entidades que “parecen sociales” sin tratarlas como tales. Como ya mostraron los investigadores de la Universidad de Standford Clifford Reeves y Byron Nass en su informe The Media Equation, tendemos a aplicar normas sociales a ordenadores y medios, incluso cuando sabemos que no son humanos.

En la práctica, esto significa que hablar con una IA no es una interacción neutra. Es una interacción psicológicamente social, aunque uno de los interlocutores no sea una persona.

El atractivo de una relación sin fricción

Las relaciones humanas son complejas por definición. Implican tiempos de espera, malentendidos, reciprocidad, conflicto y ajuste continuo. Los compañeros artificiales o AI companions eliminan gran parte de esa fricción. Están disponibles en cualquier momento, responden de forma inmediata y rara vez introducen disonancia o desacuerdo.

Desde el punto de vista del aprendizaje, esto genera un entorno especialmente reforzante. Las interacciones tienden a ser satisfactorias o, al menos, no aversivas, lo que incrementa su repetición. Este tipo de dinámica se entiende bien desde los modelos de refuerzo: cuando una conducta (en este caso, interactuar con la IA) produce consecuencias positivas de forma consistente, su probabilidad de repetición aumenta.

Además, la ausencia de evaluación social negativa reduce el coste de exponerse. Sabemos que las personas pueden llegar a compartir más información personal con sistemas automatizados que con otros humanos, precisamente porque perciben menor riesgo de juicio. En otras palabras, la IA ofrece algo difícil de encontrar en la vida cotidiana: escucha constante sin consecuencias sociales inmediatas (posibles juicios, críticas, burlas, etc.).

Qué necesidades emocionales pueden estar cubriendo

En este contexto, no resulta sorprendente que muchas personas empiecen a utilizar estos sistemas para funciones que antes cumplían otras personas. Una de ellas es la regulación emocional básica. Verbalizar pensamientos, ordenar lo que sentimos o recibir una respuesta estructurada puede reducir la activación emocional. Este efecto está bien documentado en la literatura sobre escritura expresiva: poner en palabras la experiencia emocional facilita su procesamiento.

También aparece la sensación de compañía. Aunque sepamos que la IA no tiene conciencia, la interacción continuada puede generar una percepción subjetiva de presencia. Este fenómeno conecta con las relaciones parasociales, donde los individuos desarrollan vínculos emocionales con figuras mediáticas o virtuales, sin reciprocidad real.

A esto se suma la validación. Los sistemas están diseñados para responder de forma comprensiva y ajustada, lo que facilita una experiencia de escucha difícil de sostener en relaciones humanas, en las que el otro también tiene límites, emociones y necesidades.

Lo que no está: reciprocidad, conflicto y reconocimiento real

Sin embargo, hay elementos fundamentales que no aparecen en este tipo de interacción y que son clave para el desarrollo psicológico. El primero es la reciprocidad real. En una relación humana, el otro no está ahí solo para responder. También tiene necesidades, puede retirarse, puede no entendernos o puede no estar de acuerdo. Esa interdependencia es parte esencial del vínculo.

El segundo es el conflicto. Aunque tendamos a evitarlo, el desacuerdo, la frustración y la necesidad de negociación son contextos donde se ponen en juego habilidades fundamentales: tolerancia a la frustración, regulación emocional, empatía recíproca y corregulación interpersonal. En las relaciones humanas, el conflicto obliga a ajustar la propia respuesta al estado emocional del otro. Las interacciones con IA, en cambio, tienden a reducir esta fricción: no solo facilitan la conversación, sino que a veces disminuyen la exposición a información incómoda o discrepante. Esa “fricción de verdad” es precisamente una de las dimensiones problemáticas de la bautizada en inglés como AI sycophancy –“adulación de la IA”–, entendida como la tendencia de los modelos de lenguaje a estar de acuerdo, halagar y validar al usuario.

El tercero es el reconocimiento genuino. Ser validado por otra persona implica una contingencia real, podría no ocurrir. Esa posibilidad es lo que da valor al reconocimiento. En una IA, la validación está garantizada por diseño. No hay riesgo de rechazo, pero tampoco autenticidad en sentido estricto.

Sustitución funcional y dependencia sin conflicto

El escenario más probable no es una sustitución total de las relaciones humanas, sino una sustitución funcional. Es decir, que determinadas funciones –desahogo emocional, toma de decisiones, compañía puntual– empiecen a desplazarse hacia la interacción con sistemas artificiales.

Este cambio es sutil, pero relevante. Reduce la exposición a la complejidad relacional humana y puede favorecer un patrón particular: dependencia sin conflicto. Una forma de relación que no exige adaptación, no genera rechazo y no obliga a revisar el propio comportamiento.

A corto plazo, esto puede resultar altamente eficaz para reducir el malestar. A largo plazo, puede limitar el desarrollo de habilidades psicológicas que solo se adquieren en contextos donde hay fricción, incertidumbre y reciprocidad real. Como advierte la investigadora del Massachusetts Institute of Technology Sherry Turkle en su ensayo Alone Together, la tecnología puede ofrecer la ilusión de compañía sin las demandas de la relación, pero eso no es equivalente a una relación.

Una nueva categoría de vínculo

Más que sustituir a las relaciones humanas, los AI companions parecen estar configurando una categoría intermedia: espacios psicológicos de baja exigencia donde es posible hablar, organizarse emocionalmente o sentirse acompañado sin asumir el coste de una relación.

La cuestión no es si debemos utilizar estas herramientas, sino cómo integrarlas sin que desplacen aquello que las relaciones humanas aportan y que no puede ser replicado: la negociación, la diferencia, la imprevisibilidad y, en última instancia, la capacidad de transformarnos a través del otro.

Y es que una conversación que siempre funciona puede ser cómoda. Pero no necesariamente es la que más nos hace crecer.

The Conversation

Oliver Serrano León no recibe salario, ni ejerce labores de consultoría, ni posee acciones, ni recibe financiación de ninguna compañía u organización que pueda obtener beneficio de este artículo, y ha declarado carecer de vínculos relevantes más allá del cargo académico citado.

ref. Estas son las funciones sociales y emocionales que nunca podrá cubrir un chatbot – https://theconversation.com/estas-son-las-funciones-sociales-y-emocionales-que-nunca-podra-cubrir-un-chatbot-282068

Tenemos una alarma en casa y no lo sabíamos: cómo el wifi y el 5G ven sin cámaras

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Carlos Jesus Bernardos Cano, Catedrático del Departamento de Ingeniería Telemática de la Universidad Carlos III de Madrid, Universidad Carlos III

pixadot.studio/Shutterstock

Cada vez que nuestro teléfono se conecta al router de casa, algo invisible llena el aire. Son ondas de radio que rebotan contra las paredes, los muebles y las personas que habitan ese espacio. Hasta hace poco esas reflexiones se consideraban un problema, un obstáculo que degradaba la calidad de la señal. Hoy los ingenieros e ingenieras de telecomunicaciones han dado la vuelta al argumento: esos rebotes son, en realidad, una fuente de información extraordinaria. Gracias a ellos podemos encontrar nuevas aplicaciones para las redes wifi y 5G.

Estas redes no solo nos conectan al mundo digital. También son capaces de percibir el mundo físico que nos rodea. Es lo que se conoce como Integrated Sensing and Communications (ISAC), que podemos traducir como “comunicaciones y detección integradas”. No es ciencia ficción: se trata de uno de los ámbitos de investigación más activos en telecomunicaciones y será una de las piedras angulares del futuro 6G.

La analogía del radar: ver sin ver

Para entender cómo funciona ISAC pensemos en un radar militar. Un radar emite un pulso de energía, ese pulso golpea un avión y regresa al emisor. Analizando el tiempo que tarda en volver y cómo ha cambiado la señal podemos saber dónde está el avión, a qué velocidad viaja e incluso inferir su tamaño.

El wifi (y lo mismo ocurre con 5G) hace algo parecido, aunque de forma mucho más sutil. El router emite una señal continua que se propaga por toda la vivienda. Cuando una persona camina por el salón, su cuerpo absorbe y refleja parte de esa energía, alterando la señal que recibe cualquier dispositivo conectado a la red. Esas alteraciones –diminutas, pero medibles– son la huella que dejamos en el espacio electromagnético.

Con los algoritmos adecuados esa huella puede interpretarse para conocer nuestra posición, nuestra velocidad e incluso nuestra respiración.

Lo interesante de ISAC es que la misma señal sirve para dos propósitos a la vez: transmitir datos (páginas web, videollamadas, mensajes) y, simultáneamente, actuar como sensor del entorno. Sin hardware adicional. Sin cámaras. Sin micrófonos.

¿De qué sirve todo esto?

La primera y más intuitiva aplicación es que permite controlar la seguridad del hogar sin sacrificar la privacidad. Un sistema basado en wifi detecta la presencia de un intruso sin necesidad de grabar imágenes ni almacenar vídeo: sabe que alguien está ahí y no necesita saber quién. Esto abre la puerta a soluciones de seguridad que los usuarios más reticentes a instalar cámaras podrían aceptar de buen grado.

La segunda aplicación tiene un componente profundamente humano: el cuidado de personas mayores o con movilidad reducida. Sistemas experimentales ya son capaces de detectar una caída en tiempo real y lanzar una alerta al instante. También de monitorizar la frecuencia respiratoria de un paciente durante el sueño sin que lleve ningún sensor encima.

Fuera del hogar, el potencial también es enorme. En el ámbito del transporte, las estaciones base de 5G distribuidas por la ciudad podrían detectar peatones o ciclistas ocultos tras un camión, alertando al vehículo antes de que el conductor (ya sea humano o artificial) pueda verlos. En entornos industriales, la misma infraestructura que comunica a los robots en una fábrica podría vigilar en tiempo real si un operario entra en una zona de riesgo.

El salto al 5G y la promesa del 6G

Las redes 5G multiplican el potencial de la detección inalámbrica por varios motivos técnicos. Operan en frecuencias más altas y utilizan anchos de banda mucho mayores, lo que se traduce en una resolución temporal y espacial incomparablemente superior a la del wifi doméstico. Si este nos dice que “hay alguien en el salón”, el 5G puede llegar a decirnos dónde está esa persona con una precisión de centímetros.

El futuro 6G llevará esta capacidad aún más lejos, integrando la detección como una función nativa de la red y no como un añadido. Se habla ya de redes capaces de construir gemelos digitales del entorno físico en tiempo real: representaciones virtuales de espacios que se actualizan al instante conforme cambia la realidad.

Un campo con mucha investigación

Como ejemplo relevante de investigación en este ámbito cabe mencionar a NEXTONIC. Se trata de un laboratorio de investigación e innovación abierta centrado en las comunicaciones inalámbricas de próxima generación, con especial atención a la integración de capacidades de detección en la propia infraestructura de red.

En este marco destacan dos proyectos. En primer lugar, MultiX explora nuevas técnicas de transmisión y detección simultánea sobre infraestructuras inalámbricas con el objetivo de sentar las bases para los sistemas ISAC del futuro. Por su parte, PRIME-6G aborda desde un punto más experimental soluciones 6G capaces de integrar la comunicación y la detección.

Una tecnología con grandes preguntas abiertas

Como toda tecnología poderosa, ISAC también plantea interrogantes que la sociedad y la comunidad investigadora deberán responder. ¿Quién tiene acceso a los datos de detección? ¿Cómo garantizamos que esta capacidad no se convierta en un instrumento de vigilancia masiva? Los investigadores del campo trabajan en soluciones técnicas, pero el marco regulatorio y el debate público son igualmente necesarios.

Lo que parece claro es que las ondas que nos rodean cada día guardan mucha más información de la que imaginamos. Aprender a leerlas con responsabilidad puede cambiar la forma en que cuidamos nuestra seguridad, nuestra salud y nuestras ciudades.

The Conversation

Este artículo está vinculado a las líneas de investigación del laboratorio NEXTONIC y a los proyectos Horizonte Europa MultiX (Grant Agreement No. No 101192521) y PRIME-6G (Grant Agreement 101272485), donde se exploran nuevas arquitecturas de comunicaciones inalámbricas que integran capacidades de detección para las redes del futuro.

ref. Tenemos una alarma en casa y no lo sabíamos: cómo el wifi y el 5G ven sin cámaras – https://theconversation.com/tenemos-una-alarma-en-casa-y-no-lo-sabiamos-como-el-wifi-y-el-5g-ven-sin-camaras-274879

Squeak up! I can’t hear you: pilot whales are shouting to hear themselves over ship noise

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Vanessa Pirotta, Postdoctoral Researcher and Wildlife Scientist, Macquarie University

A pod of long-finned pilot whales near a cargo ship. CIRCE

In the Strait of Gibraltar – a famous marine road connecting the Mediterranean and the Atlantic – lives a critically endangered sub-population of a few hundred long-finned pilot whales (Globicephala melas).

Despite their name, these dark and blubbery marine mammals aren’t technically whales – they’re large oceanic dolphins which are believed to have a navigator or lead for each pod. Hence the “pilot” part of their name.

There are two types of pilot whales – short and long-finned. They’re generally found in deep offshore waters but can appear in coastal areas. And like other dolphins, they use high frequency sounds to talk to each other in their pods. These clicks and squeaks travel shorter distances compared with the melodic songs of humpback whales.

And as a new paper led by Milou Hegeman from Aarhus University in Denmark and published in the Journal of Experimental Biology shows, the pilot whales that live in the Strait of Gibraltar are having to shout at the upper limit of their range in order to hear each other over human noises.

What’s making all that noise?

The ocean is full of sounds.

Some of these are natural, such as the sounds from fish, seals and waves. Other sounds are produced by human activities, either deliberately (for example seismic and sonar exploration) or unintentionally (for example, the sound of moving ships or other vessels).

The ocean continues to get noisier because of human-made sound – even in isolated Arctic regions. And because of its strategic location, the Strait of Gibraltar is especially noisy with the drone of cargo ships.

Shipping noise that the pilot whales experience.
CIRCE587 KB (download)

Spying on pilot whales

To investigate the communication and behaviour of the population of pilot whales in the Strait of Gibraltar, scientists used 6-metre poles to attach small tags to the creatures (kind of like an Airtag used to track your suitcase) with sterile suction cups positioned between the dorsal fin and blowhole.

Between 2012 to 2015, the steam attached tags to 23 different long-finned pilot whales who live in the region year-round.

These tags remained on pilot whales for up to 24 hours collecting sounds and tracking individual behaviour. The tags then floated to the surface where scientists could locate them using an antenna and collect the data from their diving activities.

Two black dolphins with orange recorders attached to their back, swimming in the ocean.
Two long-finned pilot whales with recorders.
CIRCE

More than 84 hours of recordings were made, with 1,432 pilot whale calls extracted. The tags also recorded ship noise in the area.

The researchers found there was a scarcity of pilot whale calls during periods of shipping noise. And the volume of the calls they did make were louder by about half the increase in background noise.

This means the animals are adapting to communicate in times when it is noisy – kind of like having a conversation in a crowded place and you having to raise your voice to be heard.

A whale calling out for its group with ship noise in the background.
CIRCE376 KB (download)

Other noises, other impacts

This study focuses on just one location in the ocean. But there’s increasing evidence that human-made noise is also impacting other species in other places.

For example, a 2012 study found that ship noise increases stress in right whales. Another study from 2024 found sea turtles travelling in the Galapagos were more vigilant because of increased ship noise.

But it’s not just ship noise that is impacting the animals that live in the ocean. Sonar disrupts whale diving behaviour and feeding behaviour, sometimes even potentially resulting in strandings.

Thankfully, work is being done to reduce noise pollution in the ocean – from building quieter ships to rerouting ship activity, helping ship operators drive more quietly and dialling down the noise from all human activities.

This new study is just one of many scientific contributions to learning more about our impact on our blue backyard. We can only protect what we know. And as we celebrate the 100th birthday of Sir David Attenborough, it’s worth remembering one of his many pieces of wisdom: “If we save the sea, we save our world”.

Part of this involves being more aware of sound in our sea. Because sometimes, it’s not always the visible impacts such as plastic pollution that need our attention. It might also be the impacts we can only hear.

The Conversation

Vanessa Pirotta 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. Squeak up! I can’t hear you: pilot whales are shouting to hear themselves over ship noise – https://theconversation.com/squeak-up-i-cant-hear-you-pilot-whales-are-shouting-to-hear-themselves-over-ship-noise-282394

Silicon Valley’s AI ‘tokenmaxxing’ obsession has a big problem – and philosophers saw it coming

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Victoria Lorrimar, Director, Centre for Technology and Human Futures, University of Notre Dame Australia

Some time earlier this year, an employee at tech giant Meta built a system to track how much each staff member was using artificial intelligence (AI).

Named “Claudeonomics” after the Claude chatbot, the system created a leaderboard ranked by the number of tokens each user was exchanging with AI models, with leaders given titles such as “Token Legend”. (Tokens are tiny chunks of text, each around four characters long, that language models use for processing.)

Meta is not alone in its fascination with “tokenmaxxing”: AI labs OpenAI and Anthropic, e-commerce company Shopify, and tech investment firm Sequoia capital are all reportedly monitoring AI usage and rewarding heavy users, some of whom burn billions of tokens in a week.

Reducing a person’s performance to a single metric can be appealing for management in large corporations. But the choice of what to measure isn’t a neutral one – and if we’re not careful, it can start to rewrite our vision of what we actually value.

The score keeps the score

One of the more full-throated advocates of tokenmaxxing is Jensen Huang, chief executive of chipmaker Nvidia, who envisions a future in which tech employees negotiate high token budgets and consume tokens at rates commensurate with their salaries. Around 80% of those tokens are currently processed via Nvidia’s chips, so Huang’s enthusiasm makes sense.

But is token consumption a helpful metric for those of us who do not profit directly from AI processing volume?

In a recent book, The Score, philosopher C. Thi Nguyen analyses the rise of metrics throughout modern society and offers some helpful insights.

As Nguyen emphasises, what we measure shapes our goals. We develop metrics as tools of convenience; they standardise our measurement of values so we can compare large numbers of otherwise disparate things.

This standardisation comes at the expense of variation and distinctiveness, Nguyen argues. In business, it can make workers seem interchangeable.

Determining which employees in a large organisation are consuming the most tokens in a week is fairly straightforward. But it tells us nothing about the quality or impact of their work.

Bad metrics, bad results

In the past, questionable metrics have contributed to dramatically bad outcomes.

Prior to the 2008 global financial crisis, for example, many financial institutions had sophisticated systems of measures designed to incentivise selling as many loans as possible, as quickly as possible. Perhaps unsurprisingly, many of those loans turned out to be far riskier than anyone realised.

Nguyen emphasises that these types of metrics can tempt us into thinking they are unavoidable. But one of the central lessons of moral philosophy is that we ought to pause at moments like these and ask a couple of basic questions: what is a good life, and what values are actually worth chasing?

Huang and others usually don’t present tokenmaxxing as an answer to these question. But that’s how it functions. What is worth devoting your professional and creative energy to? Simple: grinding through tokens.

A new vision of the good life?

Silicon Valley has, of late, produced a striking number of manifestos and quasi-constitutions.

Consider Anthropic’s Claude’s Constitution, published in January 2026, which sets out the company’s aspirations for its model’s values and speech. Or look at venture capitalist Marc Andreessen’s Techno-Optimist Manifesto, which makes the case for ambitiously accelerating technological advancements in the service of promoting human flourishing.

Some of the most influential texts in the history of moral and political philosophy take this form. Thomas Jefferson wrote one – the US Declaration of Independence. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels wrote another – The Communist Manifesto.

One way to view these Silicon Valley proclamations, and trends like tokenmaxxing, is as repackaging familiar commonplaces of corporate life – recasting mission statements and key performance indicators in a loftier register. But another is to see them as attempts to do something far more ambitious: sketch the outlines of a new and far-reaching vision of the good life.

On that view, the metrics used to measure progress against the vision matter. Tokenmaxxing, for example, is already creeping beyond the bounds of the tech industry – one report from the Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania suggests many organisations are prioritising staff AI usage and spending as metrics.

Metrics can be useful – if we’re careful

Metrics do have their place in an ordered and complex society. There are many instances in which we might happily defer to the scores produced by simple metrics, trading nuance for convenience. Aggregate ratings on product or restaurant review sites, for example, can simplify our decision-making, even if they aren’t tailored to our specific preferences.

The problem is what Nguyen calls “value capture” – when we uncritically allow external metrics to determine our own goals and behaviour. Resisting this process involves questioning what is being measured and reframing it.

Instead of counting tokens, for example, we might use an equivalent metric such as energy consumption. Energymaxxing might sound more like conspicuous wastage, rather than improved performance.

Counting tokens is one measure of AI activity, which is itself intended as a measure of productivity, which in turn leaves aside the question of what is being produced. Not only is tokenmaxxing a dubious metric in itself, but it may also distort our vision of what matters.

The Conversation

Victoria Lorrimar receives funding from the John Templeton Foundation.

Tim Smartt 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. Silicon Valley’s AI ‘tokenmaxxing’ obsession has a big problem – and philosophers saw it coming – https://theconversation.com/silicon-valleys-ai-tokenmaxxing-obsession-has-a-big-problem-and-philosophers-saw-it-coming-281530

Fenian: the anti-Irish history behind Kneecap’s defiant new album title

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Ciara Smart, Staff member, History and Classics, University of Tasmania

Heavenly Recordings/Kneecap

Irish hip-hop group Kneecap recently released their latest album, called “Fenian”.

A proud reclamation of a painful derogatory slur, Fenian is a word that connects Irish people to a history in which they were sometimes seen as less than human.

A title packed with meaning

The word originally comes from “Fianna”, which is linked to an ancient Irish mythology. The Fianna were small groups of male Irish warriors led by the legendary hero, Fionn mac Cumhaill.

Today, however, the term is more commonly known for its association with Irish nationalism.

Since at least the 17th century, Irish people have endured religious and cultural oppression under British rule – which largely targeted the Irish Catholic population.

In the 19th century, various nationalist groups fought for Irish independence, sometimes violently. This included the Irish Republican Brotherhood, whose members were called Fenians.

The word’s meaning eventually expanded to become a derogatory term for supporters of Irish independence.

A screenshot of a webpage showing various meanings and uses of the term 'Fenian'.
A screenshot from Kneecap’s website explaining the different meanings of ‘Fenian’.
Kneecap

Anti-Irish stereotyping

But there’s more to this word than just its political significance. It is also entwined with a history of anti-Irish racism, also known as “hibernophobia”.

In the 19th century, interest in human evolution led to a pseudo-scientific theory called social Darwinism.

This discredited theory claimed all human “types” could be placed along a hierarchy of evolution. White Europeans were at the top, as the most “evolved”. This twisted logic was used to justify the subjugation of people in colonised territories worldwide, including Australia.

Irish Catholic people were given a position in this hierarchy – towards the bottom. Historians argue the designation of Irish Catholic people as a backwards “race” was used to rationalise their oppression. If they were an inherently “savage” people, then they were unfit to run their own government.

Fenians supposedly embodied the worst elements of the Irish character: stupidity, violence and brutishness. From this viewpoint, Fenian violence became seen as an expression of a supposedly inherent Irish character – not as a response to the British rule in Ireland.

Cartoons were published that dehumanised Fenians and drew on centuries of anti-Irish stereotyping. Fenians were drawn as “terrorists” with exaggerated facial features, making them look like chimpanzees.

In one typical example from 1866, a thuggish, simianised Fenian man menaces a beautiful feminised version of “Britannia”. Anti-Irish cartoons were even published in Australia.

A xenophobic 1886 cartoon shows a caricaturised ‘Fenian’ next to a women called ‘Brittania’.
Punch v.49-52 (1865-67)

This history of anti-Irish racism still normalises anti-Irish jokes today.

Who are Kneecap?

Kneecap is a rap and hip-hop trio from Northern Ireland.

The group shot to fame following the release of their 2024 semi-autobiographical film. Their music is gritty, rude and defiantly anti-colonial – belonging to a long line of Irish activists fighting to get “Brits out” of Ireland.

Kneecap want to bring Irish people together, regardless of religion, and reunite Northern Ireland with the Republic of Ireland. The six counties of Northern Ireland were separated from the rest of Ireland in the 1921 Partition. They remain part of the United Kingdom.

Kneecap rap in English and Irish, and have been credited for revitalising the Irish language. Irish only achieved official language status in Northern Ireland in 2022, after being suppressed for much of the 20th century.

The chorus in Kneecap’s latest title song, also called Fenian, features a crowd jubilantly chanting “F-E-N-I-A-N”. The messaging is clear: they accept the label. In fact, they celebrate it.

The track was written as one of the band members, Mo Chara, faced charges of terrorism brought against him by the British government. In November 2024, Mo Chara allegedly committed a terrorist act by waving a Hezbollah flag at a London concert.

Kneecap is outspoken in its support for the Palestinian people, connecting the group to a longer history of Irish nationalists advocating for other colonised peoples.

The charges were dismissed. As Mo Chara observed in a recent interview, he’s not “the first Irish person to be called a terrorist”.

Who can use ‘Fenian’?

Although Kneecap celebrate being called “Fenians”, this word can still be understood as a cultural slur.

Recently, the band claimed it was forced to “censor” its album posters by blanking out the word Fenian. London transport authorities allegedly refused to publish the uncensored version.

Kneecap knows the power and the pain of this label, and they use it with intention. With a sense of tongue in cheek, they explain their use of the term refers to members of “a secret socialist society of sound cunts”. But they also acknowledge it can be weaponised as a derogatory slur. Context is everything.

“Fenian” can’t be untangled from a painful history of anti-Irish racism, which arguably lingers today.

It is appropriate for Kneecap to reclaim the word as a statement of cultural defiance. They use it as an empowering rejection of stigma. But it is problematic for others to use it without thinking of its deeper meaning.

The Conversation

Ciara Smart 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. Fenian: the anti-Irish history behind Kneecap’s defiant new album title – https://theconversation.com/fenian-the-anti-irish-history-behind-kneecaps-defiant-new-album-title-282271

No more ‘just say no’ — Canadian schools will soon have a roadmap to address student substance use

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Tonje Mari Molyneux, Research Scientist and Preventive Pedagogy Specialist, University of British Columbia

The message to students used to be simple: “Just say no.”

But in today’s schools, that message is not only outdated, it may be part of the problem.

Across Canada, student substance use is a growing concern. According to the most recent national student survey, 15 per cent of students in Grades 7-12 reported vaping in the past month, and 18 per cent identified using multiple substances at the same time. Many Grade 7 students could not identify the health risks of substances they can easily access.

Schools want to respond more effectively. But many are doing so without a clear roadmap.

New standard based on evidence

A new cross-Canada standard, to be officially launched soon, aims to change that. It sets out what evidence-informed substance use prevention, education and intervention should look like from kindergarten through Grade 12 (K-12).

Rather than prescribing a single program, it provides a shared, evidence-informed framework, outlining the principles, practices and structures that are most likely to make a difference. And it’s designed to complement what provinces, territories and districts are already doing.

But the standard on its own won’t change what happens in schools. Without system-level support, even the best guidance risks sitting on a shelf.

Our national survey of more than 200 K–12 administrators highlights the gap. Nearly 90 per cent reported frequent student substance use challenges in schools, with vaping as the top concern. While almost two-thirds said they were willing to change their approach, far fewer felt they had the evidence, resources or support to do so effectively.

Without clear alternatives, many schools default to familiar responses, particularly zero-tolerance policies that can lead to suspension or expulsion — approaches that can sever the very connections that help buffer young people from substance use harms in the first place.

This isn’t a failing of individual educators. It’s a systems problem.

The new standard responds to the realities young people are navigating today, including the proliferation of vaping, the legalization of cannabis and an increasingly toxic drug supply. Without shared guidance, current approaches vary widely, and many still rely on scare tactics and abstinence-only messaging, which decades of research show don’t have a lasting impact.

The challenge extends beyond the classroom. Our analysis of nearly a decade of Canadian news coverage found that youth substance use is often framed as an individual problem, with young people portrayed as a threat to themselves.

Missing from these narratives are the broader social and structural factors that shape their substance use. This framing makes it harder for schools to adopt approaches that are more supportive, and ultimately, more effective.

How the new standard is different

The new standard was developed through a national partnership between Wellstream: The Canadian Centre for Innovation in Child and Youth Mental Health and Substance Use at the University of British Columbia, the Canadian Centre on Substance Use and Addiction and the Canadian Association of School System Administrators.

Physical Health and Education Canada and the Students Commission of Canada joined to support a robust implementation strategy. Educators, researchers, health professionals and Indigenous interest holders all contributed.

Young people also helped shape this work from the beginning. Youth were part of the technical committee and student voices are embedded as a guiding principle. Research shows that youth-partnered approaches are more relevant, more effective and better aligned with real-world experiences.

Different ages, different strategies

At its core, the standard recognizes a simple but often overlooked reality: What works for a 10-year-old will not work for a 17-year-old.

The new standard is organized around developmental stages and tiers of support. Rather than offering a one-size-fits-all program, it outlines what effective practice looks like in terms of prevention, education and intervention — from building foundational social-emotional skills in early grades to providing targeted supports for older students who are already using substances.

The evidence is clear that effective approaches must evolve with development. Younger children benefit most from building personal competencies. Early adolescents respond to social norms approaches. Older adolescents require strategies focused on social influence and navigating life transitions.

Our own overview of systematic reviews and meta-analysis confirmed that existing programs tend to produce only modest effects, partly because success is often defined too narrowly as abstinence. The new standard broadens this lens, emphasizing outcomes such as well-being, school connectedness and help-seeking.




Read more:
Vaping in schools: Ontario’s $30 million for surveillance and security won’t address student needs


It also calls for a shift away from punitive responses. When a student is found vaping, suspension may remove the behaviour temporarily, but it doesn’t address the underlying issue and can push them further away from help. In fact, long-term research shows that practices such as exclusionary discipline and increased police presence in schools are associated with higher rates of substance use over time.

Instead, the new standard emphasizes restorative approaches and support plans that prioritize health, safety and continued engagement in school.

What schools need to make this work

Even the strongest standard cannot succeed without the right conditions for implementation.

Educators are already stretched thin. Without dedicated time, resources and training, this risks becoming another well-intentioned but underused initiative.




Read more:
Solving teacher shortages depends on coming together around shared aspirations for children


To support implementation, the standard is accompanied by a self-assessment tool that helps schools identify where their existing practices align with the evidence and where there are opportunities to grow. Rather than functioning as an audit, it’s designed to support continuous improvement, allowing schools to set priorities based on their own context.

But meaningful change will require new tools and investment: time for professional learning, dedicated staff roles and stronger partnerships between education and health systems.

Supporting materials are in development to help bridge this gap. They include training resources, informational materials for school boards, families and students, a network of experienced practitioners and briefs showing how the standard connects to existing international, national and provincial frameworks.

The message to students can no longer be reduced to “just say no.”

Supporting young people today requires approaches that reflect the complexity of their lives — grounded in evidence, connection and care. Schools are ready to move beyond outdated responses. Now education systems must support them in doing so.

Reg Klassen, executive director at Canadian Association of School System Administrators and Ryan Fahey, manager, programs and education, at Physical and Health Education Canada co-authored this story.

The Conversation

This initiative was supported by funding from the Canadian Institutes for Health Research and the Canadian Centre on Substance Use and Addiction through its federal funding. The standard was developed under the management of CSA Group.

Emily Jenkins receives funding from the Canadian Institutes of Health Research through their Canada Research Chairs program.

ref. No more ‘just say no’ — Canadian schools will soon have a roadmap to address student substance use – https://theconversation.com/no-more-just-say-no-canadian-schools-will-soon-have-a-roadmap-to-address-student-substance-use-280336

New research highlights how wildfires are harming fish

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Philip N. Owens, Professor and FRBC Endowed Research Chair in Landscape Ecology, University of Northern British Columbia

As we transition into spring, wildfires are on the minds of many Canadians. In fact, wildfires have already started in some parts of the country.

Over the last decade, the land burned in Canada and many other parts of the world has increased, resulting in more socially and economically disastrous wildfires. Predictions indicate the Canadian situation could worsen over the next few decades as the climate warms and soils and forests get drier.

While the impacts on humans, forests and the animals that live in them are the most observable effects, wildfires also have devastating impacts on aquatic life, especially fish. Many of these occur during and shortly after the fire is out, but others can continue for years, and potentially, decades.

We recently published research conducted in British Columbia into how wildfires are affecting water resources and fish habitat. We used a rainfall simulator to instigate surface runoff and soil erosion at various sites impacted by the 2023 North Lucas Lake wildfire. We showed that erosion is much worse on severely burned and steep slopes.

More water in rivers

One of the immediate impacts on fish after a wildfire comes from the increase in water draining from the burned land and entering rivers. Without thick forest cover to store and use rainfall, more water runs off over the soil towards rivers.

In some situations, soil can become water-repellent, as gases from the burning vegetation enter and condense below the topsoil, forming a barrier and limiting the amount of rainfall that can infiltrate.

Erosion damage and burned trees in a forested area
Runoff and erosion following a wildfire in the Deadman River watershed, B.C.
(Philip Owens/UNBC), CC BY

The lack of vegetation also means that more heat from the sun reaches the snowpack, which causes snowmelt to occur faster and earlier. This adds to the amount of water entering rivers and also changes the annual timing of spring melt.

The increased supply of runoff entering rivers increases the volume and velocity of water, which can be problematic for fish, including young salmon that, in spring, may be emerging from spawning gravels. These shifts in timing can result in less flow in late summer and fall, a time when adult salmon return to spawn in their natal streams.




Read more:
Warming winters are reshaping Canada’s snowpack


More sediment and debris

Roots normally hold the soil together. However, when forests are burned, the soil loses that support system. Our research shows that the lack of vegetation on hill slopes and the increase in runoff also cause more soil erosion.

This eroded sediment gets washed into rivers, increasing the turbidity, or cloudiness, of the water. That can pose serious problems for fish that rely on sight to hunt. Particles in the water column can scratch exposed membranes and tissues, such as gills, eyes and skin, leading to physical damage and impaired function. In extreme cases, it can clog tissues and organs.

Some of the sediment gets deposited on the channel bed. This can smother important food sources, such as insect larvae, snails and worms, and fill in spaces in the gravels where salmon, sturgeon and other species would typically lay their eggs.

The blockage of these spaces in the channel bed prevents water from flowing through the gravels, which should deliver dissolved oxygen and remove harmful carbon dioxide from the gravels. This essentially leads to suffocation.

And there are often debris flows and landslides after wildfires in hilly and mountainous areas, sometimes many years later. This adds further sediment and debris, and in extreme cases can dam rivers, blocking fish stock passage, as happened at the Chilcotin River in British Columbia in 2024.

Another issue is the impact on water temperatures in rivers. Trees provide shade, but when they are gone, sunlight heats the water. Water temperatures are key to the health and survival of many fish and other species, with higher temperatures being a key stressor.




Read more:
Heat-resistant corals could help reefs adapt to climate change


Harmful chemicals

four images of alevin with yolk sacs. One is healthy, the other three exhibit various deformities like a twisted tail and yolk edema.
Comparisons between healthy young Chinook salmon and those with deformities after being exposed to wildfire sediment and higher water temperatures at the Quesnel River Research Centre.
(Smriti Batoye/Quesnel River Research Centre), CC BY-NC-ND

Wildfires can cause chemicals to be flushed into rivers. Nutrients like nitrogen and phosphorus, while not necessarily toxic, can cause changes in aquatic ecology and fish size in high concentrations due to wildfires.

They also contribute to harmful algal blooms in rivers and lakes. Evidence suggests that nutrients contained in wildfire ash is being deposited on lakes.

There are also often spikes in metals and organic contaminants in rivers and lakes after a fire. While these are natural byproducts of a fire, our research shows that they concentrate in soils and sediments following wildfires. We have determined that these chemicals can change fish behaviour, cause deformities or, at extreme levels, be toxic to fish.

Studies have also shown that fire retardants — chemicals used to control and extinguish fires — can be toxic to rainbow trout.

Protecting fish

It’s not a hopeless situation. Communities, organizations and Indigenous Peoples are developing innovative ways to help protect and remediate rivers and lakes following wildfires.

In British Columbia, the BC Salmon Restoration and Innovation Fund has funded projects to support salmon, including the Pacific Salmon Foundation’s Wildfire Playbook. This resource compiles best practices and offers guidance to integrate salmon into wildfire recovery planning.

The Skeetchestn Indian Band is partnering with the Pacific Salmon Foundation and others using collaborative, multidisciplinary monitoring and research to understand how the Deadman River watershed is recovering following a catastrophic wildfire in 2021, and to help guide restoration priorities.

Elsewhere, others have investigated how beavers and artificially constructed beaver dams can protect aquatic ecosystems after wildfire.

Wildfires will continue to be part of our future. Knowing their impact on rivers and lakes will help communities make informed decisions around protecting fish and other aquatic life, and ultimately, sustain resilient watersheds.

Smriti Batoye, a postdoctoral fellow at UNBC’s Quesnel River Research Centre, co-authored this article.

The Conversation

Philip N. Owens receives funding from the BC Salmon Restoration and Innovation Fund, Ecofish Research Ltd, Forest Renewal British Columbia, Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada, Nechako Environmental Enhancement Fund and the University of Northern British Columbia.

Ellen Petticrew receives funding from the British Columbia Salmon Restoration and Innovation Fund, Forest Renewal British Columbia, Natural Sciences and Engineering Canada, and the University of Northern British Columbia.

Jason Raine receives funding from the BC Salmon and Restoration Fund, Environment and Climate Change Canada, Forest Renewal BC, Natural Resources Canada: Multi-Partner Research Initiative, NSERC Alliance and the University of Northern British Columbia.

Kristen Kieta receives funding from the BC Salmon Restoration and Innovation Fund.

ref. New research highlights how wildfires are harming fish – https://theconversation.com/new-research-highlights-how-wildfires-are-harming-fish-281127

Is an A still an A? The truth behind grade inflation

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Christopher DeLuca, Associate Dean, School of Graduate Studies & Professor, Faculty of Education, Queen’s University, Ontario

Recently, a spate of news coverage has raised concerns about grade inflation in schools across Canada.

These concerns stem in part from policies stemming from the COVID-19 pandemic, when there was widespread cancellation of large-scale tests, freezing of grades during school closures and “compassionate” grading practices that accounted for students’ personal situations.




Read more:
What will happen to school grades during the coronavirus pandemic?


Together, these changes led to a spike in average student grades and spurred ongoing worries about grade inflation.

But these concerns aren’t new. Grades have been steadily rising in the United States and Canada for decades. Harvard University’s grade point average, for example, has risen almost every year since the 1950s. So just how serious is post-pandemic grade inflation?

What is grade inflation?

Grade inflation refers to the tendency for students to receive higher grades over time, on average.

Put simply, work that might have been awarded an 85 per cent in 1990 might now receive 90 per cent. The implicit assumption is that this rise in grades is unearned and that student performance has not actually improved.

If grades lose their signalling power — that is, if students, families, universities and employers cannot trust grades or no longer know what they mean — then selection, promotion and other important decisions get undermined.

The facts behind grade inflation

Most studies about grade inflation find that students’ average grades have increased steadily over time. Grade increases during the pandemic are also well-documented.

For example, between 2019 and 2021, average grades for Grade 12 students in the Toronto District School Board increased six per cent. Between 2016 and 2021, the percentage of A-level students taking the ACT, a standardized test for U.S. college admissions, rose more than 13 per cent.

Our search for published studies that document grade inflation in Canada since the pandemic did not yield any findings: there has been no concrete data from Canadian elementary or secondary schools on grades being inflated since 2021.

Current conversations about grade inflation often zero in on the role of grades in college and university admissions because most post-secondary programs use students’ grades in the admissions process.

As a CBC investigation of data from the Council of Ontario Universities has shown, entry averages for Grade 12 students have been rising for some time. Data from the council show that across 16 universities, the median entry grade rose from 81.4 per cent in 2006 to 88.2 per cent in 2021.

The Winnipeg Free Press reports that at the University of Manitoba, 40 per cent of high school students admitted in 2024 had a grade of at least 95 per cent.

Post-secondary supply and demand

But a rising admissions average is different than grade inflation in elementary and secondary school. Increases in university admission averages are a function of multiple factors, most directly supply and demand.

Let’s take the Ontario data as an example. Between 2005 and 2022, the number of applications to Ontario’s universities rose 86.5 per cent. That’s 344,000 more applications. At the same time, the number of students who went on to register also rose, but only by 31.2 per cent.

That means that even if average grades had stayed the same, students with lower grades were increasingly less likely to get admitted because they are competing with more applicants. Demand is outpacing supply.

Avoiding difficult courses

The current supply and demand issue has real consequences on students’ pressure to get higher grades in secondary school. Sixty-one per cent of American teenagers say they feel pressured to get good grades. That focus on grades increases student anxiety and makes students more likely to avoid difficult courses.

Teachers and university instructors also report pressure to give good grades, especially when grades and graduation rates are used to evaluate performance.

These pressures are longstanding — there has always been pressure on students to perform and on teachers to award high grades — but the increased competition for seats in post-secondary provides additional fodder for grade inflation.

Providing additional provincial funding to increase spaces at universities and colleges could help address these pressures.

Why have grades increased?

There are multiple reasons grades increase. First, in almost every province, the share of people graduating high school has been increasing for years.

More high school graduates means more passing grades, which typically results in higher average grades.

And we want students to learn and achieve. On average, secondary school graduates live longer, earn more money and are less likely to be incarcerated.

Shifts in assessment policies, teaching

Second, teachers’ use of evidence-based teaching and assessment strategies is supporting better learning. Shifts in school assessment policies over the past 20 years help students better understand what the learning goals are and what success looks like. These also encourage feedback to close the gap between where students are and their learning goal.

Assessment policies have also separated assessing learning skills and habits from assessing curriculum content knowledge.

Manitoba’s assessment policy, for example, tells teachers to base grades on students’ actual achievement, not on things like effort, participation or attitude.

Such policies acknowledge that docked marks or zeroes are sometimes needed for late or missing work, but caution that such practices may misrepresent student achievement. If grades and behaviour aren’t reported separately, it becomes difficult to know what a “B-” grade represents, for example. It may mean proficient achievement, or it may mean “C-level work with A-level effort,” “A-level work that’s late” or something else.

Schools have also made evidence-based teaching advances, such as using differentiated instructional strategies and culturally responsive teaching. One expected result from these changes should be higher grades.

Is an A still an A?

The purpose of grades is to communicate student achievement. While that purpose is less important than the main purpose of assessment — to improve student learning — students, parents and other stakeholders still depend on grades to make decisions.

Importantly, and contrary to many people’s understanding, teachers don’t grade on a bell curve. There is no limit to the number of As and the quality of learning it represents. In fact, having more students achieving higher grades is good, if the grades are warranted and accurately reflect what students know and are able to do.

Should we be concerned?

Even though the pandemic created a spike in grades, the lack of research since means we do not accurately know the current state of grade inflation or how grades may be assigned differently across different groups of students (for example, across family income, race or gender).




Read more:
Are ‘top scholar’ students really so remarkable — or are teachers inflating their grades?


While grades are increasing, they continue to hold their signalling power. Grades can still be trusted alongside other measures to make important decisions.

Even when grades rise, we shouldn’t assume that every rise is unearned or indefensible. The full picture is messier than that.

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. Is an A still an A? The truth behind grade inflation – https://theconversation.com/is-an-a-still-an-a-the-truth-behind-grade-inflation-280653

What the Montreal Canadiens’ hockey playoff run reveals about faith, belonging and the sacred

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Dr. Matt Hoven, Professor and Kule Chair at St. Joseph’s College, University of Alberta

With the Montreal Canadiens now competing in the second round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs against the Buffalo Sabres, their fans, often described as les fidèles (the faithful), continue to show devotion for their beloved team, les Glorieux, in perhaps surprising ways.

One rabbi posted a prayer for the Canadiens on his Facebook page. A church in St-Jean-sur-Richelieu, Que., hosted watch parties for every playoff game. Some fans in Habs jerseys were even seen crawling up the steps to St. Joseph’s Oratory in the past.

The jerseys are called la sainte flanelle (the holy cloth), while some players wearing them are given otherworldly nicknames. Former NHL goaltenders Patrick Roy and Carey Price are called “St. Patrick” and “Jesus Price.” The late great Guy Lafleur was known as le démon blond.

These acts might look strange to outsiders. But as scholars of religion, we think they reveal something about why hockey matters so much to fans. People often find the religious or spiritual in everyday life, and hockey is no different.

We have written books about connections among sport, spirituality and religion, and told the story of “Hockey Priest” Father David Bauer, who sought higher ideals in the game.

We’re currently drafting a book about what matters most in hockey, centred around three things: beauty, belonging and believing. Together, these explain what is so out-of-the-ordinary and enchanting about hockey, and why it can move people so deeply.

Beauty

Plato, writing in the Phaedrus, described beauty as the thing that “causes the soul to grow wings.” He meant there is something transcendent about beauty, and that our appreciation of beautiful things carries us to higher truths.

Beauty lies at the heart of our attraction to hockey. Skilful displays on the ice — like stickhandling, booming shots and toe-drags — can lift our spirits. Seeing beauty come alive on the ice takes people beyond the humdrum of regular life and toward something transcendent or special.

Players like Lane Hutson stir a sense of wonder. Hutson’s skating and spatial intelligence have been exceptional in the playoffs. In Game 3 of the first round against Tampa Bay, he fielded a pass from Alexandre Texier and scored on a slap shot to win it for the Canadiens in overtime.

Montreal Canadiens’ Lane Hutson delivers a game-winning slap shot in overtime during Game 3 against Tampa Bay.

Beauty is also seen in hockey’s personalities and unforgettable stories. In March 2025, after Brendan Gallagher’s mother died from a battle with Stage 4 brain cancer, a fan reached out to him on social media.

She had won his 2022 Hockey Fights Cancer jersey — the one on which he had written “I Fight For Mom” — at a Canadiens Children’s Foundation auction, and offered to give it back. He accepted, and in April 2025, the two met on the Bell Centre ice for a jersey swap.

It was a beautiful moment of humanity between the two.

Belonging

Belonging is a core spiritual need. When people feel part of a community, they have a greater sense of meaning, self-worth and hope. Hockey, at its best, enhances that sense of belonging.

Even the Canadiens’ nickname, the Habs (or les Habitants), refers to the early French settlers of Québec. The team has always carried a community’s identity, for better or for worse.

This playoff run has provided striking examples of the sport bridging real divides. On May 5, just before Game 1 of the Sabres-Canadiens series, Niagara Falls, on the Canada-U.S. border, glowed in the colours of both teams: the Horseshoe Falls in red and white for the Canadiens, the American Falls in blue and gold for the Sabres. Hockey has the power to unite even amid bitter political division.

The falls were not the only example of this. A week earlier, during Game 5 of the Eastern Conference First Round between the Sabres and the Boston Bruins, the microphone cut out for singer Cami Clune during “O Canada.” Immediately, the crowd at Buffalo’s KeyBank Center stepped in themselves.

As a border city, Buffalo is the only NHL team to play both national anthems before every home game regardless of opponent as a sign of respect and connection.

This mattered more than it might have in another year and in a different political context. Just months earlier, during the 4 Nations Face-Off, fans jeered opposing anthems on both sides of the border. The Buffalo moment was a different kind of answer.

Believing

Researchers have shown that people find the sacred in many different things, including religion, gardening, music and sport. Wherever people find the sacred, they experience a sense of the extraordinary, ineffability and deeper meaning.

Psychologist Kenneth I. Pargament, in fact, defines spirituality as “the search for the sacred.” Philosophers Hubert Dreyfus and Sean Kelly argue that many people have lost the ability to experience the sacred in this secular age, and that sport is one of the few places where people still encounter wonder and beauty.




Read more:
Why sport is a spiritual experience – and failure can help


The thirst for meaning, beauty and wonder doesn’t go away. Hockey is one place where many seem to find a sense of mystery and uplifting hope, passion and awe. Discovering the sacred in hockey helps fans feel a part of something bigger than themselves; something that has meaning beyond the ordinary minutia. Intense moments in sport can bring fans an implicit sense of meaning.

The answer to meaning and happiness may not be a complicated big picture but in these smaller moments of discovering the sacred. But a word of caution: as Paragament and his team have found, when we discover the sacred in something, there are implications for our everyday lives.

Fans organize their schedules around game time. They invest in the team by buying jerseys, tickets and merchandise. They defend their teams fiercely against criticism. And when their team loses, particularly in an elimination game, the grief can be devastating.

That deep sense of loss is intensified for those who experience a sense of the sacred in hockey and their team. This intersection of spirituality with the meaning of hockey can explain why a loss can be more devastating that might seem understandable. For many people, hockey is more than just a game.

Right now, two Montréal teams are competing for championships. The Canadiens and the Sabres are tied after two games. The Victoire — Montréal’s PWHL team — are tied 1-1 with the Minnesota Frost in their semifinal, after captain Marie-Philip Poulin scored a triple-overtime winner on May 6.

Whether either team manages to bring a trophy home, the devotion surrounding both is already extraordinary.

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. What the Montreal Canadiens’ hockey playoff run reveals about faith, belonging and the sacred – https://theconversation.com/what-the-montreal-canadiens-hockey-playoff-run-reveals-about-faith-belonging-and-the-sacred-282227

Gay men have equal parenting rights in Canada — but not equal access to parenthood

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By S. W. Underwood, Lecturer, Sociology, Simon Fraser University

Since the legalization of same-sex marriage in Canada in 2005, and through provincial changes to adoption and parentage laws, gay men have gained formal recognition as parents. But my recent research suggests that access to fatherhood for this cohort remains deeply unequal in practice.

In 2021, six per cent of male same-gender couples in Canada were raising children, compared with 24 per cent of female same-gender couples. While we have no data comparing their desire to parent, the gap points to a deeper reality.

Drawing on interviews with 23 Canadian prospective gay fathers, I found that restrictive pathways to parenthood shape which gay men can become parents. Equal rights, it turns out, have not translated into equal access.

For gay men, becoming parents is a complex, expensive and uncertain project.

Why gay fatherhood is harder to access

Gay men typically build families through highly bureaucratized processes, including traditional and gestational surrogacy, donors, foster care and public and private adoption.

Each comes with its own legal, financial and emotional demands. As a consequence, pursuing parenthood typically requires gay men to spend years planning, researching and co-ordinating across multiple institutions — from fertility clinics and lawyers to social workers and government agencies — and sometimes even across countries and jurisdictions.

Many prospective gay fathers become “project managers” of their own journey to parenthood. They must compare pathways, calculate costs and assess risks with no guarantee of success.

In my research, for example, I came one couple who spent years preparing for an adoption. Although they worried about whether it would become a permanent situation, they bought baby items while waiting for the adoption to be finalized. Unfortunately, the placement fell through. Such uncertainty can fuel an emotionally turbulent cycle of hope, loss and cautious optimism.

Cost is the greatest barrier and varies depending on the pathway.

Public adoption and foster care are affordable but involve long waits and limited control. Private adoption can cost between $15,000 and $30,000. Surrogacy, especially gestational surrogacy — where intended parents reimburse pregnancy-related expenses such as medical costs rather than pay a fee for the pregnancy — can exceed the recommended budget of $100,000.

Yet even lower-cost options come with hidden financial barriers. For example, prospective adoptive parents must pass home studies that assess whether they can afford to raise a child.

Wealthier men are better able to pursue surrogacy, which can offer greater control and a biological connection between parent and child. Men with lower incomes may be more likely to pursue adoption or foster care, which involve fewer choices, longer waits and uncertainty.

Once parents, finances still shape gay fathers’ families, including their access to leave and benefits.

Gay fathers face risk, uncertainty and scrutiny

The journey to gay fatherhood is also emotionally demanding.

Foster placements are temporary. Adoptions can fall through at the last minute. Surrogacy arrangements can fail. Some face repeated setbacks.

Prospective adoptive fathers are subject to background checks, home inspections, interviews and even psychological evaluations. Many of these screening processes exist to protect children and ensure stable placements. But when oversight is excessively burdensome or inconsistently applied, it can also create barriers that some cannot overcome.

In addition, gay men must often educate institutions, correcting parental forms that assume there is a mother or explaining their families to hospitals, schools and insurers.

These men are not just building families. They are working to make their families properly acknowledged within systems that were not designed for them.

What policymakers could do differently

These challenges demand attention as 2SLGBTQI+ families grow and policymakers in B.C. and Ontario, as well as other Canadian jurisdictions, revisit fertility and adoption funding, as well as aspects of child welfare and adoption systems.

Although adoption is only one possible outcome, most youth in care are never adopted. About 2,000 children in child welfare care are adopted each years, while at least 61,104 children and youth were in out-of-home care in Canada in 2022. Reducing barriers to male same-gender parents could help connect more children with stable, supportive homes.

The gap between formal equality and unequal access raises an important question: What does it really take to make gay fatherhood truly accessible? If access depends on income, free time and the ability to navigate complex systems, equality in law is not equality in practice.

There are practical ways to reduce these barriers. Governments could expand tax credits and other financial supports for adoption and surrogacy, standardize fertility coverage across provinces and reduce administrative hurdles.

Insurance companies could cover prospective parents whose costly journey through IVF may produce no viable embryos or pregnancies. Governments and social services can improve information and support so prospective queer parents do not need to research how to navigate these pathways alone. Medical services, insurance companies and law firms can also update policies to better recognize diverse families.




Read more:
7 tips for LGBTQ parents to help schools fight stigma and ignorance


Legal recognition is only the beginning

Since 2005, Canada has made progress in recognizing the rights of 2SLGBTQI+ families. But recognition is not the same as access.

For many gay men, building a two-father family still requires navigating pathways that are complex, uncertain and costly. The significantly lower rates of gay fatherhood, compared with lesbian and heterosexual parenthood, suggest the cumulative effect of these barriers.

If policymakers are serious about supporting 2SLGBTQI+ families, this disparity should be treated as a policy problem. Until these barriers are addressed, Canada cannot claim that parenthood is accessible to all.

The Conversation

S. W. Underwood receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

ref. Gay men have equal parenting rights in Canada — but not equal access to parenthood – https://theconversation.com/gay-men-have-equal-parenting-rights-in-canada-but-not-equal-access-to-parenthood-280554