Source: The Conversation – UK – By Lukas Slothuus, Postdoctoral Research Fellow, School of Global Studies, University of Sussex
Greta Thunberg and fellow climate activists demonstrating outside the Swedish parliament in 2019.Liv Oeian/Shutterstock
In 2022, Sweden took a rare step: the country banned all fossil fuel production.
The quirk is that Sweden has never actually produced any fossil fuels. So why would a country with no fossil fuel production decide to ban such production?
In a newly published study, I explain the curious case of this ban – and how it boosted Sweden’s reputation as a global leader on climate issues.
Sweden is often praised for its ambitious climate policies and fast reductions in climate-damaging emissions. Its former centre-left government decided to ban all exploration and extraction of coal, oil and gas just a year after its neighbouring oil and gas producer, Denmark, had done so. This was part of a growing international effort to phase out the supply of fossil fuels.
My research into the Swedish government’s ban comes as more than 50 nations attend a major initiative to develop a roadmap for phasing out fossil fuels, hosted by the Colombian government. I interviewed 17 high-profile people in Swedish climate politics, including some of the main architects of the ban.
I found that a single driver can play a decisive role. The ban was largely the result of a concerted effort by the Green party, which had campaigned on this issue for several years and already included it in its national election manifesto in 2014.
The Green party called on the Swedish Geological Survey to conduct a study on the potential effects of a ban, which provided the necessary scientific basis. It then used its proposal as a bargaining chip in negotiations with the Social Democrats, when forming a coalition government after the 2018 election.
That study showed how much easier it is to implement new climate policy when there is no strong fossil fuel industry and associated lobbying. And because the government had already banned uranium mining in Sweden in an attempt to make future nuclear power production more difficult, it had a blueprint for how to ban fossil fuel extraction.
The ban was mostly symbolic – but it may also have helped prevent future fossil fuel production in Sweden. Technological advances and exploding oil and gas prices can make previously untenable resources attractive to exploit. That would, of course, have harmful consequences for the climate, so the ban does have a material dimension.
In contributing to global momentum against fossil fuels, the ban bolstered Sweden’s reputation as a leading country in climate negotiations. This proved important: several of my interviewees pointed out how Sweden was able to push the EU toward a more ambitious position in its Fit For 55 climate package – a set of laws aiming to cut the EU’s emissions by 55% by 2030 – in part due to the respect the country commands from others on decarbonisation.
Following the ban, Sweden also joined the Beyond Oil and Gas Alliance of like-minded countries and regions working to encourage other countries to join the global movement for a phaseout.
Located on Colombia’s sun-kissed Caribbean coast, Santa Marta is at the heart of the country’s vast coal industry. As one of the world’s largest coal exporting countries, as well as a major oil and gas producer, the symbolism is clear: Colombia is not just talking the talk but walking the walk.
More than 50 countries including the UK, Brazil and Norway are gathering to agree a roadmap for the transition away from fossil fuels. This comes only months after the UN’s climate summit Cop30 in Brazil, where nations failed to agree to end reliance on fossil fuels and negotiations faltered in the face of powerful fossil fuel lobbying.
The first Transitioning Away from Fossil Fuels Conference takes place in Santa Marta on the Colombian coast. Jhampier Giron M/Shutterstock
Rather than let laggards like the US or Saudi Arabia obstruct negotiations, this conference brings together a “coalition of the willing”. Ahead of it, experts are laying the scientific and academic foundations for the political need for a phaseout. My colleagues and I are presenting our research into the failures and successes of first-moving countries trying to phase out fossil fuel production.
The following questions will be at the heart of discussions in Colombia.
What kind of financing do developing countries need to phase out their production and consumption of fossil fuels? How can the legal obstacles be overcome? What does a just, equitable and fair phaseout look like? And crucially, what can be learned from existing attempts to phase out fossil fuels?
In Sweden, climate policies have been gradually rolled back by its current rightwing government, which is not sending any representatives to Santa Marta. Yet the fossil fuel ban still stands.
Sweden’s ban did not lead to any direct reduction in global fossil fuel production. But it did name the problem and show the way for other countries. It provided an alternative pathway where future investment goes into renewables and green technologies, rather than climate-damaging energy sources.
Now it’s up to the countries attending the Santa Marta conference to make further progress on this long, difficult path to transitioning away from fossil fuels.
Lukas Slothuus receives funding from the Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council.
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Fannie Frederikke Baden, PhD Candidate, Art History and Visual Studies, Lund University
Can we ever really understand Chernobyl? As a researcher in visual culture, I find myself returning to this question again and again as I examine films, TV shows, documentaries, visual novels and artworks.
We know that the explosion occurred on April 26 1986 at 1:23am due to a safety test gone wrong, and that the radioactive contamination spread across the exclusion zone and far beyond, reaching other parts of Europe. Beyond these facts, however, things get shaky. Although the official death toll was, according to the World Health Organization’s 2005 report, less than 50, the real number is considered to be much higher, with thousands affected by the long-term consequences of exposure.
Radioactive contamination is what made this technological disaster so extraordinary. While many people may not be interested in decay chains or wavelengths, popular culture renders radioactive pollution immediately legible.
At the same time, these representations often operate in the space between historical fact and dramatisation. Although many can be criticised for exaggerating an already fantastical disaster, that dramatisation is also part of what keeps audiences engaged and ensures that Chernobyl remains alive in our cultural awareness.
Here are five of my favourite pop culture depictions of the Chernobyl disaster, that I believe give a pretty good glimpse of what the disaster entailed.
1. Chernobyl (2019)
This series is one of the best ways to understand or be introduced to Chernobyl. Over the course of five episodes, HBO’s drama series brought viewers through the social, political and bureaucratic aspects of the disaster.
The trailer for Chernobyl.
Following the scientist Valery Legasov (Jared Harris), as well as the story of firefighter’s wife Lyudmilla Ignatenko (Jessie Buckley), the series does a great job at narrating the disaster in compelling ways. It is visually well constructed with attention to every minor detail.
The series finds ingenious ways to visualise invisible radiation, while scientists’ struggle to force the truth into the open is heart-wrenching enough to hold the viewer through all five episodes.
2. Chernobylite (2021)
The horror indie video game Chernobylite allows players to wander freely around Chernobyl’s exclusion zone – one of the most radioactively contaminated areas on Earth.
With time and climate change, the structures and buildings within the zone are at increasing risk of disappearing from both wildfires or age that leaves buildings crumbling. In an effort to preserve the zone, the creators of Chernobylite began to 3D scan it. Left with a virtual map, they decided to turn their project into a video game.
The trailer for Chernobylite.
In Chernobylite, players can roam freely and uncover the mystery of the zone. Although embellished with green glowing crystals and monsters, the game does offer a setting that allows you to walk around and experience the zone while scientists tell you information about the disaster.
This game is a wonderful way to experience the zone at a distance. It is photo-realistic and allows the players to really locate some of the famous landmarks of the zone (such as the Ferris wheel or the monument for the firefighters).
3. Chernobyl Abyss (2021)
This Russian disaster film follows fictional firefighter, Alexey Karpushin (Danila Kozlovsky) through some of the challenges in the immediate aftermath of the Chernobyl disaster.
The trailer for Chernobyl Abyss.
To save his son from radiation poisoning, Karpushin agrees to become a “liquidator” in exchange for having him sent to a care facility in Switzerland. Around 600,000 military personnel were drafted as liquidators – sent to high-radiation zones (often wearing inadequate protection) to clear radioactive debris and manage contaminated waste.
While it’s not a perfect film, it gives a good impression of the emotional and individual toll of the disaster.
4. The Babushkas of Chernobyl (2015)
Amid the tragic and often action-driven representations of Chernobyl, this documentary feels hopeful rather than bleak. It portrays life in the exclusion zone (some people have returned to live on their generational land) in all its complexity.
More importantly, it’s a reminder that while the zone may be reduced to a story for those of us watching from afar, for the people who live there, it remains a home.
The trailer for The Babushkas of Chernobyl.
5. YouTube
Before the escalation of the Russo-Ukrainian war in 2022, the zone was frequently visited. In fact, after the release of HBO’s Chernobyl series, tourism allegedly increased by 40%.
In a space where souvenirs like a stone from the ground are illegal to pick up, many instead captured the zone through their camera lens. Viewing videos from tourists and “stalkers” (illegal explorers) on YouTube, offers one of the best ways to gain insights into how the Chernobyl disaster has affected the land.
Many of these tourists capture the samoesely (resettlers), wildlife and guides who talk about the zone and what the disaster means to them.
Fannie Frederikke Baden received funding from Lund University.
When a couple marry in a church, synagogue or mosque, the ceremony does more than sanctify a union. Often, it binds two families to an institution.
For centuries, marriage and child-rearing have been among the main ways adults are integrated into congregational life. Couples who share the same faith tend to be more observant, and they often raise children within that tradition – bringing the next generation into congregational life. More marriages mean more families in pews and more children raised in the faith.
At the same time, the share of unmarried Americans who belong to a religious congregation has fallen well below that of married Americans. According to the Pew Research Center’s 2023–24 Religious Landscape Study, 68% of married adults identify as Christian, compared with about 51% of never-married adults. Twenty-four percent of married Americans are religiously unaffiliated, compared with 39% of Americans who never married.
As a behavioral economist and a business school professor, I study what I call the “solo economy”: how the rise of single adults is reshaping workplaces, taxes and consumer markets. Religious institutions are the latest domain to face the same shift. They are not simply confronting lower marriage rates. Many of them, I contend, are reckoning with the consequences of treating unmarried adults as incomplete members of the community.
Alarm across faiths
According to the Survey Center on American Life, the gap in religious membership between married and unmarried Americans has widened substantially since the 1990s.
Communities that have historically built their infrastructure around married families are feeling the shift most acutely: couples retreats, small groups organized by life stage, children’s programs, and leadership roles that quietly assume a spouse. The cumulative effect is less about overt exclusion than about whom the institution imagines when it pictures itself.
People chat during a meeting after a Mass for singles in the Jesuit church in Warsaw, Poland, on Sept. 24, 2013. Wojtek Radwanski/AFP via Getty Image
In an April 2021 address during a churchwide conference, M. Russell Ballard, then one of the top leaders in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, acknowledged that more than half of adult church members were widowed, divorced or not yet married – and that some “wonder about their opportunities and place in God’s plan and in the Church.” In July 2024, the church expanded its “young single adult” category from ages 18–30 to 18–35.
In evangelical Christianity, sociologist Katie Gaddini’s research for her book “The Struggle to Stay” found that women – especially those over age 35 – often felt overlooked, excluded from leadership and valued less because they had not married.
At a women’s conference in London, one attendee captured the tension: “I’m so tired of fighting Christian church leaders to be treated equally, but I don’t want to leave the church. So, what do I do?”
In Modern Orthodox Judaism, similar patterns of exclusion have emerged. A 2022 Nishma Research survey found that singles reported the lowest sense of community connection of any group studied: 69 on a 100-point scale, compared with 81 for married members. Another 2022 report, by Brandeis University sociologist Sylvia Barack Fishman, described unmarried members feeling “ignored and invisible” in synagogue life, sometimes treated as if they were broken people waiting to be fixed.
On my podcast, sociologist Ari Engelberg, author of “Singlehood and Religion,” described how unmarried adults in Israel’s Religious Zionist community internalize their single status as a religious failing. The community treats marriage as so central to observant life that remaining single can feel like falling short.
Doubling down
Religious institutions’ responses to the rise of singles have split in two directions.
Some have reasserted marriage as the expected path to adulthood, belonging and spiritual maturity. Pope Francis, for example, repeatedly warned about declining birth rates, calling the trend a “tragedy” in a 2021 address. In a 2023 worldwide broadcast, Dallin H. Oaks, who is now the president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, urged single adults to date more, marry earlier and not delay having children. And in June 2025, the Southern Baptist Convention passed a resolution lamenting “willful childlessness” and calling for laws that “incentivize family formation.”
In qualitative research with single churchgoers, a consistent theme emerges: Marriage comes up regularly in sermons – in illustrations, examples and applications – while singleness almost never does.
That instinct is understandable. But a strategy built for a society where most adults married young is a poor fit for one where many never will.
But doubling down carries a real cost. When single adults hear, again and again, that the fullest version of faithful life is married life, many do not feel called upward. They feel pushed outward.
Adapting
Other religious communities are adapting.
In the U.K., the Single Friendly Church Network developed a guided audit to help congregations across denominations assess how welcoming they are to people who come alone. In the U.S., ministries such as Table for One have tried to move singles programming away from matchmaking and toward spiritual community. And Fishman’s 2022 report on Modern Orthodox Judaism urged synagogues to give singles leadership roles, committee seats and ritual honors, regardless of marital status — though whether those recommendations have taken hold remains an open question.
But adaptation raises its own question. Are these efforts designed to support single adults as full members of the community or to manage them toward marriage? There is a difference between welcoming singles and treating singlehood as a problem to solve.
I see several practical steps for religious institutions that want to keep unmarried adults engaged in their communities:
Count who is actually in the pews. Leaders may not realize how many of their members are single, divorced or widowed. The Single Friendly Church Network found that when congregations conducted demographic audits, many were surprised by the results.
Give singles real authority. Inclusion does not mean creating a special ministry and leaving decision-making to married people. It means leadership, voice and visibility.
Rethink the language of belonging. Sermons and announcements that reflexively address “families” and “couples” can make unmarried adults feel peripheral. Small linguistic changes can signal that they are not.
Build community rather than dating pools. The goal should not be to funnel unmarried adults toward coupledom. It should be to treat them as complete people whose spiritual lives matter now.
Religious institutions have joined employers, policymakers and consumer brands in facing the same choice: Adapt to a society with more single adults, or keep building for a world that no longer exists.
Peter McGraw does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Amazon’s AI shopping assistant, Rufus, on a computer monitor on Dec. 1, 2024, in New York. Company apps, including Rufus, may make it easier to shop, but consumers might balk at giving up too much of the shopping experienceAP Photo/Peter Morgan
Americans spend a remarkable amount of time shopping – more than on education, volunteering or even talking on the phone. But the way they shop is shifting dramatically, as major platforms and retailers are racing to automate commercial decision-making.
Artificial intelligence agents can already search for products, recommend options and even complete purchases on a consumer’s behalf. Yet many shoppers remain uneasy about handing over control. Although many consumers report using some AI assistance, most currently say they wouldn’t want an AI agent to autonomously complete a shopping transaction, according to a recent survey from the consultancy firm Bain & Company.
As scholars studying the intersection of law and technology, we have watched AI-assisted commerce expand rapidly. Our research finds that without updated legal measures, this shift toward automated commerce could quietly erode the economic, psychological and social benefits that people receive from shopping on their own terms.
Caveat emptor
Part of shoppers’ hesitation is about privacy. Many are unwilling to share sensitive personal or financial information with AI platforms. But more profoundly, people want to feel in control of their shopping choices. When users can’t understand the reasoning behind AI-driven product recommendations, their trust and satisfaction decline.
Shoppers are also reluctant to give away their autonomy. In one study involving people booking travel plans, participants deliberately chose trip options that were misaligned with their stated preferences once they were told their choices could be predicted – a way of reasserting independence.
Other experiments confirm that the more customers perceive their shopping choices being taken away from them, the more reluctant they are to accept AI purchasing assistance.
Although the technology is expected to get better, there have been some well-publicized missteps reported in financial and tech media. The Wall Street Journal wrote about an AI-powered vending machine that lost money and stocked itself with a live fish. The tech publication Wired cataloged design flaws, like an AI agent taking a full 45 seconds to add eggs to a customer’s shopping cart.
The business case for AI shopping
Consumers have good reason to be cautious. AI agents aren’t just designed to assist; they’re designed to influence. Research shows that these systems can shape preferences, steer choices, increase spending and even reduce the likelihood that consumers return products.
And companies are hyping these capabilities. The business platform Salesforce promotes AI agents that can “effortlessly upsell,”
while payments giant Mastercard reports that its AI assistant, Shopping Muse, generates 15% to 20% higher conversion rates than traditional search – that is, pushing shoppers from browsing to completing a purchase.
To retailers, AI tools are one way to convert searches into actual purchases. Rupixen on Unsplash., CC BY
Assistants with names like Sparky and Ralph are being promoted as the future of retail, while technologists are calling on companies to prepare their brands for the era of agentic AI shopping.
The real concern is not that these systems might fail, but that they may succeed all too well.
The human side to shopping
AI shopping agents do offer considerable benefits.
But there’s more at stake than these considerations.
While consumers have reason to focus on privacy and control, AI shopping agents carry some overlooked emotional risks, such as squashing the joy of anticipation. Psychologists have shown that the period between choosing a purchase and receiving it generates substantial happiness – sometimes more than the product or experience itself. We daydream about the vacation we booked, the outfit we ordered, the meal we planned. Automated buying threatens to drain this anticipatory pleasure.
This anticipation connects to another value: a sense of personal and ethical authorship. Even mundane shopping decisions allow people to exercise choice and express judgment. Many consumers deliberately buy fair-trade coffee, cruelty-free cosmetics or environmentally responsible products. The brands and products we choose, from Patagonia and Harley-Davidson to a Taylor Swift tour shirt, help shape who we are.
Shopping, moreover, has a communal dimension. We browse stores with friends, chat with salespeople and shop for the people we love. These everyday interactions contribute considerably to our well-being.
The same is true of gift-giving. Choosing a gift involves anticipating another person’s preferences, investing effort in the search and recognizing that the gesture matters as much as the object itself. When this process is outsourced to an autonomous system, the gift risks becoming a delivery rather than a meaningful gesture of attention and care.
Keeping human agency alive
AI shopping agents are likely to become part of everyday life, and the regulatory conversation is beginning to catch up, albeit unevenly.
Transparency has emerged as a central concern. Past experience with recommendation engines shows that undisclosed conflicts of interest are a real risk. The European Union has proposed a disclosure framework around automated decision-making, although its implementation was recently delayed. In Congress, U.S. lawmakers are considering bills to require companies to reveal how their AI models were trained.
So far, consumers seem to want to choose their own level of engagement – a signal that shopping, for many people, is more than just the efficient satisfaction of preferences. Perhaps the least-settled, yet most crucial question is whether AI shopping tools will be designed and regulated to serve users’ interests and human flourishing – or optimized, as so many digital tools before them, primarily for corporate profit.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Approximately 34% of U.S. fourth grade students without disabilities and 72% of students with disabilities scored below basic reading levels in 2024. Anna Maslennikova/iStock/Getty Images Plus
Recently, I worked with a group of elementary teachers in Iowa to select new reading textbooks and software. They wanted new materials to improve their district’s stagnant reading scores.
After several days of reviewing materials from a state-approved list, one of the teachers asked me, “Will any of these help my students learn to read?”
I said, “I think so, but I don’t know.”
The teacher looked disappointed. But my answer reflects a hard truth about what reading scholars like me understand about the best ways to teach people to read and boost their literacy. Although research suggests that elementary teachers should focus on helping students learn the sounds of speech, phonics, reading fluency, vocabulary and reading comprehension strategies, there is little evidence on how well these skills are packaged into the textbooks used in classrooms.
I am a professor of special education at the University of Iowa and the former director of the Iowa Reading Research Center.
I help schools across the country adopt new textbooks and software to improve their students’ reading and writing. Currently, I’m working with colleagues on a review of how elementary school teachers use new reading textbooks to improve their students’ literacy skills.
There is a crowded marketplace of reading textbooks and software for schools to purchase, and it is often difficult to determine which one is better than the others. As a result, schools may end up purchasing new, expensive materials that do little to improve reading skills.
Many elementary school students, including those with reading disabilities such as dyslexia, struggle to learn to read.
On the 2024 National Assessment of Educational Progress, a broad measure of reading development given to fourth grade students in every state, approximately 34% of students without disabilities and 72% of students with disabilities scored below basic levels. This means they displayed difficulty with multiple foundational reading skills and were reading below grade level.
The fact that many young students struggle to read at grade level is not a new problem. For the past 30 years, reading performance across the U.S. has remained largely unchanged.
Since 1992, the average NAEP reading score for fourth graders has varied by only a few points. In fact, NAEP scores for most students in fourth grade, the only elementary school grade measured by the NAEP, have declined since the COVID-19 pandemic.
Since 2019, a total of 42 states, including Californiaand Tennessee, have passed legislation intended to help students read better by training teachers to use evidence-based reading instruction. This means schools across the country are adopting new approaches to teach reading and using new textbooks.
For example, Louisiana in 2021 and Iowa in 2024 passed legislation that provided teachers with additional training, in addition to giving them state-approved reading textbooks that align with key areas of reading development, such as phonics and reading comprehension strategies.
As a result of these policies, reading scores are improving in some states. However, a substantial number of students across the country are still reading below grade level.
For example, Louisiana had a significant increase in fourth grade reading scores on the 2024 NAEP, rising from 55% of fourth grade students scoring basic or above in 2019 to 60% in 2024. However, 40% of fourth grade students still scored below basic, meaning they were reading below grade level.
Iowa had minimal increases in the reading proficiency of its students in 2024 statewide assessments, rising from 73% to 74% of sixth graders reading proficiently. Most elementary grades’ reading levels stayed the same from the prior year, with approximately 65% to 69% of students reading proficiently.
Despite this large number of students reading at grade level, nearly 70% of students with disabilities were reading below grade level in 2024.
To improve the scores of those still reading below grade level, new research that I and colleagues are doing is looking at the quality of reading textbooks promoted on state-approved lists.
New textbooks aren’t necessarily better
Reading textbooks play a pivotal role in how reading is taught. These textbooks have distinct daily lessons in which specific reading skills and content are taught, such as specific letter sounds or words. Textbooks not only include paper-based materials for students but also online apps and websites, as well as lesson plans for teachers.
There are a variety of textbook publishers and textbooks, and each textbook differs on what reading skills are taught and how often they are taught. For example, a recent review found textbooks differ drastically on the amount of time given for students to learn the sounds of speech. This time difference matters, as students’ reading performance suffered when too little or too much time was spent on learning the sounds of speech.
More than 36 states publish a list of approved reading textbooks, often referred to as high-quality instructional materials. States differ on which textbooks they consider to be of high quality, but they typically rely on the opinion of reading experts. Two popular nonprofit organizations that provide detailed reports on how reading experts rate textbooks include EdReports and The Reading League.
Despite using expert opinion to determine quality, ineffective textbooks still make it onto state-approved lists. A 2025 study by the Tennessee Reading Research Center found mixed effects for teachers who used state-approved textbooks to teach reading. In the study, students with dyslexia improved their reading on some measures, but overall their reading remained significantly lower than their peers.
Once a state promotes a reading textbook as high quality, it is likely to remain a staple in schools. Most states do not have systems in place to monitor which reading textbooks are used in schools and their potential effects on student reading performance.
Once a school adopts a textbook, it is likely in place for years. Adopting a new one is a time-consuming and expensive process. It can take several years to train staff and several hundred thousand dollars to pay for materials and training.
I think that we ultimately need scholars who research how kids learn to read to closely collaborate with schools as they use new reading textbooks, and then measure whether student reading performance improves. This will help them determine which reading textbooks improve student reading scores. The results of this research can then be shared with other schools across the U.S. that are considering new textbooks. Schools could then make informed decisions on which textbooks to purchase.
Without this kind of research, states may promote ineffective textbooks and leave schools with a confusing choice on which textbooks to use.
Shawn Datchuk consults to several curriculum companies, including Learning Without Tears, Heggerty, and Dyslexico. He receives funding from the Department of Education, Office of Elementary and Secondary Education.
Source: The Conversation – in French – By Xavier Bonnet, Directeur de Recherche CNRS à l’UMR 7372 en biologie et écologie des reptiles, Centre d’Etudes Biologiques de Chizé; La Rochelle Université
L’île de Golem Grad, en Macédoine du Nord, grouille de tortues d’Hermann. Pourtant, les prévisions estiment que la dernière femelle de l’île pourrait s’éteindre en 2083. Fourni par l’auteur
Sur l’île protégée de Golem Grad, en Macédoine du Nord, les tortues d’Hermann sont en train de s’autodétruire. En cause : la brutalité des mâles, qui épuisent les femelles et les poussent régulièrement du haut des falaises. De ce fait, on compte aujourd’hui cent mâles pour une seule femelle capable de pondre. Cette situation est l’unique exemple de suicide démographique à l’état sauvage connu à ce jour.
Les populations animales de grande taille qui vivent dans des environnements favorables, stables et protégés n’ont aucune raison de s’éteindre. À moins qu’une catastrophe, telle qu’un incendie dévastateur, la destruction de leur habitat ou une surexploitation, n’anéantisse tous les individus ou affaiblisse la population, la rendant vulnérable aux maladies et à d’autres perturbations et aléas.
À l’abri des falaises escarpées qui bordent l’île de Golem Grad, sur le lac Prespa, en Macédoine du Nord, les tortues d’Hermann orientales (Testudo hermanni boettgeri) grouillent sur le plateau boisé. Elles se prélassent au soleil le matin, pâturent dans les prairies et se reposent, se courtisent ou s’accouplent en poussant de petits cris aigus. De prime abord, rien ne semble mettre en danger cette population.
Golem Grad, île de 18 hectares, abrite un lac perché à 850 mètres d’altitude et, sur son plateau, une forêt de genévriers grecs qui atteignent facilement 10 mètres de haut ainsi que de nombreux reptiles, serpents, lézards et oiseaux. Les falaises abruptes sont particulièrement dangereuses pour les tortues femelles lorsqu’elles sont harcelées par les comportements sexuels violents des mâles. Fourni par l’auteur
Comme pour d’autres espèces à longue durée de vie, un taux de survie élevé des adultes est essentiel au maintien des populations. Sur Golem Grad, les adultes n’ont pas de prédateurs, car ni les sangliers, les chiens, les rats ou les humains ne vivent sur cette île strictement protégée. Le climat méditerranéen d’altitude est également clément pour les reptiles.
Tous ces facteurs expliquent probablement l’extraordinaire densité de population d’environ 50 individus par hectare, la plus élevée connue pour les tortues. C’est d’ailleurs la facilité d’observation des tortues qui est à l’origine du suivi de terrain mis en place depuis 2008, fruit d’une collaboration scientifique fructueuse entre la Macédoine du Nord, la Serbie et la France. Ce programme de suivi à long terme a reçu le label SEE-Life du CNRS en 2023.
Mais les apparences sont trompeuses : cette population est dans un état critique. Les nombreuses données démographiques, comportementales, physiologiques et expérimentales recueillies pendant près de vingt ans montrent que, bien que très active sur le plan sexuel et reproducteur, cette population est en train de se suicider !
Le suicide démographique
Le suicide démographique est un processus théorique, étrange et contre-intuitif. Les conditions de son existence sont particulières. Pour une espèce donnée, il faut imaginer une population à forte densité où les accouplements violents menacent la survie des femelles. Cela conduirait progressivement à un déséquilibre du sex-ratio (proportion de mâles et de femelles dans une population), un excès de mâles, aggravant la pression sur des femelles toujours moins nombreuses et toujours plus harcelées, ce qui finirait par déclencher un cercle vicieux menant à la disparition des femelles et, à terme, à l’extinction.
Les systèmes d’accouplement coercitifs et violents sont courants dans la nature. Généralement, les mâles harcèlent les femelles jusqu’à obtenir l’accouplement, les blessant parfois. Dans certains cas, ces comportements peuvent entraîner la mort des femelles, comme chez les éléphants de mer, les moutons sauvages, les écureuils gris, les loutres, les cerfs, les grenouilles rousses, les drosophiles, les humains… Toutefois, de telles issues fatales ne profitent pas aux mâles qui n’auront pas de descendance si la femelle meurt lors de l’accouplement. Ces comportements sont ainsi mal adaptatifs et restent marginaux.
Différents mécanismes de régulation bloquent également l’émergence d’un cercle vicieux ou vortex d’extinction. Les femelles peuvent déployer un large éventail de stratégies d’évitement et de défense, telles que se cacher, rechercher la protection d’un mâle dominant ou former des alliances.
Par ailleurs, les mâles les plus violents produisent en général moins de descendants que ceux qui épargnent les femelles, leurs traits comportementaux ont donc moins de chance de persister au cours du temps. En outre, lorsqu’ils sont en surdensité, les mâles ont tendance à immigrer, ce qui relâche la pression sur les femelles. Ainsi, les conflits entre les sexes dans les systèmes d’accouplement coercitifs sont résolus par des équilibres efficaces, sans escalade.
Cependant, de rares expériences impliquant des animaux étudiés en captivité ont montré que les mâles peuvent avoir un fort impact négatif sur les populations lorsque le sex-ratio et la densité de population sont artificiellement biaisés et augmentés. Chez une crevette japonaise, l’excès de mâles réduit la fécondité des femelles tout comme les occasions de s’accoupler. Chez le lézard vivipare, les mâles en surnombre deviennent agressifs ce qui diminue la fécondité comme la survie des femelles.
Dans les conditions naturelles, la réalité écologique, comportementale et évolutive des populations est plus complexe : les femelles peuvent s’enfuir, par exemple, et il n’y a aucune raison pour que le sex-ratio et la densité de population atteignent des extrêmes.
Aucun suicide démographique n’avait jusque-là été observé dans la nature. Les tortues de Golem Grad, qui scient la branche sur laquelle elles se tiennent, apportent ainsi le premier exemple qui défie la règle : les mâles sont en train d’éliminer les femelles !
Qu’est-ce qui dérègle la population de Golem Grad ?
Quelques éléments sur les comportements sexuels et une comparaison avec une population témoin sont utiles pour comprendre ce qui se passe à Golem Grad.
Chez les tortues terrestres, le système d’accouplement est coercitif : les mâles poursuivent les femelles, les cognent, les mordent parfois jusqu’au sang et, en ce qui concerne les tortues d’Hermann orientales, les piquent au niveau du cloaque avec leur longue queue pointue jusqu’à ce qu’elles capitulent.
Pour arriver à monter sur la femelle, le mâle insiste longtemps en la poursuivant, lui mordant les pattes et la cognant, jusqu’à ce qu’elle capitule. Fourni par l’auteur
Comme les tortues d’Hermann abondent en Macédoine du Nord, nous avons donc pu étudier une autre population très dense située sur les bords du lac à 4 kilomètres de l’île. Génétiquement très proche de celle de Golem Grad, elle vit dans un environnement protégé et sans falaise. Les femelles sont grandes, lourdes (beaucoup pèsent entre 2,5 kg et 2,9 kg) et très fécondes comme le montrent les radiographies. Un peu plus nombreuses que les mâles, elles résistent efficacement à leurs assauts intermittents. Aucun problème démographique n’y a été détecté, les projections démographiques suggèrent un accroissement de la population.
Avec l’extrémité cornée de leur queue, les mâles utilisent piquent le cloaque des femelles et finissent régulièrement par les blesser (Golem Grad). Fourni par l’auteur
Mais à Golem Grad, la situation est bien différente. Sur le plateau, plus de 700 mâles adultes patrouillent à la recherche de la quarantaine de femelles adultes. Par ailleurs, si les conditions physiologiques et environnementales ne sont pas adéquates, une femelle tortue d’Hermann peut très bien ne pas pondre d’œufs après un accouplement. Si elles sont, par exemple, trop maigres et trop stressées, les femelles n’arrivent à accumuler de réserves dans les follicules ovariens et les œufs ne se développent pas.
Il y a donc en réalité plus de 100 mâles par femelle capable de pondre. Pourtant, l’étude des nouveau-nés et des juvéniles montre que le sex-ratio n’est pas biaisé à la naissance. Les mâles en surnombre agissent souvent en meute de trois à huit. Ils harcèlent les femelles à longueur de journée, les blessent et se couchent à côté d’elles le soir, prêts à recommencer le lendemain. Les femelles n’ont pas beaucoup de répit ni assez de temps pour s’alimenter. Elles sont maigres (très peu dépassent 1,6 kg, le maximum étant 1,75 kg) et produisent, quand elles le font, deux fois moins d’œufs que celles de la population témoin.
Ne pouvant fuir, elles sont régulièrement acculées sur le bord des falaises, les mâles insistants les poussent dans le vide. Un GPS avec un accéléromètre installé sur une femelle a ainsi enregistré sa chute de plus de 20 mètres,le 18 juillet 2023 ; elle est morte brisée en deux avec ses trois œufs.
Cette femelle vivait sur le plateau, elle a été victime d’une chute de plus 20 mètres. Elle a probablement été poussée par des mâles insistants. Les femelles de moins en moins nombreuses sont de plus en plus harcelées, ce qui met en place un cercle vicieux ou « suicide démographique » (terme à ne pas confondre avec les dérives complotistes portées par l’extrême droite). Fourni par l’auteur
Depuis le début de l’étude, nous identifions toutes les tortues retrouvées mortes sur le terrain où les carapaces se conservent longtemps. Parmi les femelles décédées, 22 % ont fait une chute mortelle, cette proportion est de 7 % chez les mâles.
Avec des collègues britanniques, nous avons également mis au point une horloge épigénétique, mesurant l’âge des individus grâce à une prise de sang. Les plus vieux mâles ont plus de 60 ans, la plus vieille femelle 35 ans. Ces résultats sont cohérents avec les analyses morphologiques, de croissance et démographiques. Le taux de survie est anormalement bas chez les femelles, et ce problème est causé par la brutalité des mâles.
Le vortex d’extinction
Au fil du temps, la baisse du nombre des femelles adultes et de leur fécondité freine le recrutement. Nous avons ainsi pu identifer sur le terrain 45 femelles adultes en 2009, puis 37 en 2010, 20 en 2024 et seulement 15 en 2025.
Or, il faut environ quinze ans à une femelle pour atteindre l’âge adulte. Frustrés par le manque de partenaires sexuels, les mâles s’accouplent donc avec d’autres mâles, des cadavres, des pierres et des femelles immatures. Ils impactent ainsi précocement leur survie et aggravent le problème démographique. Il est possible de modéliser le fonctionnement de la population en intégrant les paramètres ci-dessus. Il est aussi possible de faire des prédictions.
La dernière femelle pourrait mourir en 2083, les mâles persisteront des décennies, car ces tortues peuvent vivre plus de quatre-vingts ans, puis finiront par mourir à leur tour. Il s’agit d’une prédiction, peut-être que la population actuellement au bord de l’extinction va se redresser, même si nous ne voyons pas comment. Si le rythme de vie très lent des tortues nous a offert la chance d’observer un vortex d’extinction dans la nature, et donc de vérifier une théorie étrange, c’est surtout le suivi de terrain intensif qui nous a apporté les données et l’inspiration.
Xavier Bonnet a bénéficié du soutien de SEE-Life CNRS.
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Bamo Nouri, Honorary Research Fellow, Department of International Politics, City St George’s, University of London
Let’s begin with a simple question that rarely gets a straight answer: what would victory over Iran actually look like? In Washington and Jerusalem, the answers tend to sound definitive: eliminate Iran’s nuclear capability, break its regional power, perhaps even force political change at the top. It’s the language of decisive war, the kind with a clear endpoint.
But shift the perspective to Tehran, and the definition changes completely. Victory, for Iran, is survival. That asymmetry shapes the entire conflict. In wars like this, the side that needs less to claim success often has the advantage – and, right now, Iran needs far less.
There is no denying the military imbalance. The US and Israel can strike with extraordinary precision and reach. They have demonstrated that repeatedly – targeting infrastructure, leadership and strategic assets.
But tactical success has yet to translate into political outcome. Iran’s state hasn’t fractured. Its governing system remains intact, and its networks – military, regional, ideological – continue to function. Even its most sensitive capabilities, including nuclear expertise, remain resilient.
The deeper miscalculation lies in assuming Tehran is playing the same game as Washington. It isn’t. Iran is not trying to defeat the US or Israel outright. It is trying to outlast them, complicate their objectives and raise the cost of progress until it becomes unsustainable.
This logic is visible in how the conflict has unfolded. The battlefield extends beyond direct confrontation into shipping lanes, energy markets and regional alliances. Disruptions in the Strait of Hormuz are not incidental – they are pressure points with global consequences.
Iran’s strategy is not about dominance but entanglement. It doesn’t need battlefield superiority if it can draw its adversaries into a conflict that is too costly to resolve and too complex to conclude.
When wars stall, the instinct is to escalate: more bombing, strikes on energy infrastructure, even, in extremis, “boots on the ground”. The assumption is that more force will finally produce a different outcome.
But Iran is not a passive target. It has already shown a willingness to retaliate across the region, including against Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Qatar, Kuwait, Bahrain, Oman, as well as targets in Jordan and Iraq. Strikes on Iran’s energy systems would not stay contained – they would invite retaliation against these same states, widening the conflict.
There is another constraint: American is estimated to have already used up around 45% to 50% of key missile stockpiles, including roughly 30% of its Tomahawk missile inventory. So the stark reality is that escalation is no longer just about willingness, but capacity — and in any wider war, the question may not be how far the US can go, but how much it has left.
The consequences would also extend beyond the battlefield. Iran’s response would be sustained attacks on neighbouring countries, on their power, fuel, and water systems, rendering parts of the region increasingly unlivable as temperatures soar over summer. Huge numbers of people would be forced to leave, risking another large-scale displacement crisis.
Even then, the core reality remains unchanged. Iran is built for endurance – any ground campaign would likely become prolonged and attritional. More importantly, escalation misses the point – the problem is not a lack of force, but the absence of a political objective that force can realistically achieve.
Compounding the problem is a quieter but equally significant reality; the US and Israel do not appear to be fully aligned in their end goals. Israel’s posture suggests a pursuit of maximal outcomes – deep, possibly irreversible weakening of Iran’s system, if not outright regime collapse. The US, by contrast, appears to oscillate between coercion, containment and negotiation.
These are not just differences in emphasis – they are differences in strategy. Wars fought without a shared definition of victory rarely produce victory at all. What they produce instead is sustained military activity without strategic convergence – constant movement, but little progress toward resolution.
No conclusion in sight
At some point, it becomes necessary to describe things as they are. This is no longer a war moving toward a decisive conclusion. It is a conflict settling into a pattern – strikes followed by pauses, ceasefires that hold just long enough to prevent collapse, and negotiations that advance just enough to avoid failure.
And those ceasefires tell their own story. Their repeated extension reflects not progress, but constraint. Washington, under Donald Trump, has strong incentives to keep talks alive, avoid deeper escalation, and end the war sooner rather than later. The alternatives – regional war or global economic shock – are far harder to manage. That dynamic gives Tehran leverage. It does not need to concede quickly when delay itself strengthens its position.
Time, in this sense, is not neutral. The longer the conflict drags on, the more it intersects with the most sensitive pressure points of the global economy. Energy markets are stressed, with supply routes under strain and reserves tightening. Industries that depend on stable fuel flows – aviation, shipping, manufacturing – are increasingly exposed.
What began as a regional conflict has morphed into systemic risk. Even limited disruption can ripple outward, affecting prices, supply chains and political stability. The longer the stalemate persists, the greater the cumulative strain and the closer it edges toward a broader economic shock.
Who really holds the advantage?
In purely military terms, the answer is obvious: the US and Israel retain overwhelming superiority. But wars are not decided by capability alone. They are decided by how goals, costs, and time interact.
In that equation, Iran’s position is stronger than it appears. It has set a lower threshold for success, demonstrated a higher tolerance for prolonged pressure, and shown an ability to impose costs beyond the battlefield. Most importantly, it does not need to win. It only needs to prevent its adversaries from achieving their aims. So far, it has done exactly that.
Which brings us back to the original question: can the US and Israel win this war? If winning means forcing Iran into submission or fundamentally reshaping its strategic posture, the answer is increasingly difficult to avoid – they cannot.
What they can do is continue. Manage the conflict, contain its spread and shape its margins. But that is not victory. It is endurance.
The real danger is not defeat, but the persistence of a belief that just a little more pressure, a little more escalation, or a little more time will produce a different result. If that belief is wrong, then this is not a war on the verge of being won. It is a war that cannot be won at all. A forever war.
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.
We’re delighted to announce that The Conversation Prize for writers is back for another year.
This annual competition invites academics and researchers to bring their work to life for a wider audience. It’s an opportunity to turn your research, expertise and insights into a compelling longform story that also has the potential to be developed into a bestselling nonfiction book. Whether you’re exploring new findings, re-examining established ideas, or sharing unique perspectives from your field, the prize celebrates clear, engaging writing that connects specialist knowledge with the world beyond academia.
In addition to a £1,000 prize for the winning article and online publication with The Conversation Insights, our partners Faber and The Curtis Brown Group will again be offering mentorship to develop your book from a book editor and a literary agent.
The Conversation Prize is an amazing opportunity to raise the profile of your research and access new audiences for your work. The support from the lovely people at Curtis Brown and Faber was amazing – they gave me fantastic practical advice on how to develop my work. If you’ve got an interesting idea, a new angle or a piece of research that deserves to be more widely known, this is the competition for you.
Yvonne Reddick, reader in English literature and creative writing at the University of Central Lancashire, and a runner up in the competition for Mountains of Fire – her moving account of what hillwalking with her father taught her about the origins of oil exploration – said:
Entering the writers’ prize was life-changing. I met my agents, Sabhbh Curran and Elliot Prior, and they have helped me to shape the project I know I was born to write. Sharing our research with a wide audience is increasingly important given today’s focus on impact, engagement and knowledge exchange – but the prize also brings the utter joy of sharing your work in The Conversation and beyond.
Nicholas Carter, lecturer in physical geography at the University of Oxford, and a runner up in the competition for his article on how lichens are bringing stones to life, said:
The writers’ prize proved pivotal in securing me both wonderful representation and a book deal for ‘Living Stone’ with Penguin Viking, while opening doors to other work opportunities along the way.
Submissions will be in the form of a 2,000-word article written for a non-academic audience and in the following subject areas: History, Arts + Culture, Business + Economy, Education, Environment, Health, Politics + Society, Science + Technology or World. As part of your submission, we’d also like you to include an idea for a trade nonfiction book on your article subject. Please pitch your proposed book idea in 350 words or less and explain why you’re the right person to write this book.
The competition will close on Sunday 5th July at 11.59pm BST.
To enter, please email your 2,000-word article, plus the following information, to uk-prize@theconversation.com:
Name
Institution
Country
Email
Telephone no.
Your book idea [max 350 words]
Please provide a brief summary of a trade nonfiction book idea based on your article. Tell us why this topic deserves a deeper dive and why it would appeal to an audience of non-academic readers.
About you [max 100 words]
Tell us a little about you – your current role, your area of expertise and any relevant research to your book idea. Why would you be the right author for this book?
Please disclose any conflicts of interest that should be mentioned in relation to your article or book idea.
[Pdf] – please read carefully.
You can find out more about what we’re looking for [Pdf].
La Grande Conversation recevait Dominique Méda, sociologue du travail et professeur à l’Université Paris Dauphine.
Pourquoi travaillons-nous ? Cette Grande Conversation (l’émission mensuelle de The Conversation et CanalChat en partenariat avec l’Académie des sciences) avec la sociologue Dominique Méda, professeure à l’Université Paris Dauphine, revient sur les multiples fonctions du travail : source de revenu, mais aussi d’identité, de reconnaissance sociale, de structuration du temps et de sens.
Pourquoi le travail continue-t-il d’occuper une place aussi centrale dans nos vies, alors même qu’il est souvent associé à la fatigue, à la frustration ou à la souffrance ? C’est le paradoxe qu’explore Dominique Méda dans son livre _Le travail. Pourquoi travaillons-nous ?_, en revenant sur ce que le travail nous apporte au-delà du revenu : une identité, une reconnaissance, une place dans la société, mais aussi une manière de structurer le temps et de donner sens à l’existence.
Mais de quel travail parle-t-on exactement ? Pourquoi certaines activités choisies librement nous permettent-elles de nous épanouir, quand des tâches proches deviennent pénibles dès lors qu’elles s’exercent sous contrainte ? Pourquoi les métiers les plus utiles restent-ils souvent les moins reconnus ? Et comment repenser le travail à l’heure où les jeunes s’en détournent, où les conditions se dégradent et où les frontières entre activité, emploi, engagement et soin deviennent plus floues ?
On April 15, United States Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth led a prayer session at the Pentagon. But instead of quoting from any recognised canon of sacred scripture, Hegseth’s prayer sounded unmistakably like Samuel L. Jackson’s “Jules”, a hitman character from Quentin Tarantino’s iconic 1994 film Pulp Fiction.
In his interrogation of white-collar criminal Brett, Jules delivers a heavily embellished monologue that draws from, and expands on, Ezekiel 25:17. The scene climaxes, in typical Tarantino style, with the brutal murder of Brett and his colleagues.
Hegseth’s version, which he said was recited by the Sandy 1 Combat Search and Rescue (CSAR) mission in Iran, deviates only slightly from Jackson’s monologue.
The biggest difference in this case is the symbolism. The target here is not a bunch of college kids with a briefcase they shouldn’t have, but the nation of Iran. Hegseth is the mobster and the American military are the hitmen on a violent but “divinely sanctioned” war.
The tone has changed, too. While Jackson’s monologue is highly dramatic, stylised, and imbued with more than just a little irony, Hegseth’s reframe renders it serious and devotional.
Leaving aside the cognitive dissonance of an avowedly “Christian” administration conflating Tarantino with scripture, this moment speaks to a rather unsettling relationship between Trump, pop culture and religion.
As president, he has continued to tap into pop culture dialogues. He uses the power of social media and AI to promote his brand and policies, while weighing in on the culture wars.
On May 4 of last year (Star Wars Day), Trump posted an image on X of himself as a muscular Jedi, via the official White House account. However, he seems unaware that by brandishing a red lightsaber he is actually representing himself as a Sith Lord, the epitome of evil in the Star Wars universe.
In October, he posted an AI-generated video of himself in Top Gun mode, pouring what appeared to be faeces on protesters attending a No Kings rally.
He also took advantage of the buzz surrounding the Catholic Church’s 2025 conclave, and the popular film of same name, by posting an AI image of himself as the Pope.
By using the shared texts, cultural energy and narratives of pop culture, Trump is able to slam his opponents, take advantage of a polarised political context, and whip up support from his base.
These moments allow his administration to shape public conversation and draw attention back to them, sometimes with the explicit disapproval of the content creators involved. Responding to Trump’s Star Wars post, Mark Hamill (the actor who played Luke Skywalker) said the post was: “proof this guy is full of Sith”.
Bigger than Jesus?
Trump’s supporters have historically viewed his engagement with popular culture as humorous, cheering on their hero in the White House. But detractors sense a darker side. Each of these moments symbolically elevates the Trump administration, often at the expense of others.
The May 4 post is a case in point. The target here is the “radical Left” and Trump is raised to the rank of Jedi master (or Sith Lord). In the Top Gun video, Trump demonstrates his disdain for citizens exercising their democratic right to protest.
What connects these examples is the hubris of the administration, centred around its seemingly charismatic leader. Trump’s engagement with contemporary culture has shifted from relatively harmless cameos to putting himself at the centre of a Manichaean battle of good versus evil. Using both pop culture and religious references, he frames himself as a divine figure, fighting a cosmic war for the soul of the universe.
The most recent (and most on-the-nose example) of Trump’s hubris came earlier this month. As part of his continuing war of words with Pope Leo XIV, he posted an AI photo depicting himself as Jesus.
Here, he elevates himself beyond the union of ecclesiastical and political power to the highest possible authority figure in Christianity.
In doing so, he parallels the Ancient Roman emperors who conceived of themselves as “sons of God” and demanded allegiance and worship from their subjects (often at the tip of a blade).
The emperor cult of the Roman Empire is still very much alive in Trump’s America.
In these entanglements of pop culture, religion and politics, the MAGA movement sends a clear message to anyone with a ear to listen: this is our Master Jedi, our Maverick, our Messiah, even, and he will respond with “great vengeance and furious anger” against his enemies.
Brent Keogh 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.
