Category: MIL-OSI

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Darrell Evans, Professor of Environmental Science and Sustainability, Purdue University

President Donald Trump directed the Pentagon and other federal agencies to begin releasing government files related to UFOs and unidentified anomalous phenomena – called UAP – in February 2026, following years of pressure from Congress, military whistleblowers and the public.

Congress formally mandated UAP investigations through the National Defense Authorization Act in December 2022. The Pentagon’s official UAP investigative body, the All-domain Anomaly Resolution Office, AARO, now carries a caseload exceeding 2,000 reports dating back to 1945. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth confirmed this figure earlier this year.

The cases were submitted by military personnel, pilots and government employees describing aerial objects that could not be explained as known aircraft, drones or weather phenomena. Governments in Japan, France, Brazil and Canada also have their own formal UAP investigation programs.

Yet modern research universities remain almost entirely absent from this conversation. No major university has established a dedicated UAP research center. No federal science agency offers competitive grants for UAP inquiry. No doctoral programs train researchers in UAP methodology. The gap between what governments openly acknowledge and what universities are willing to study is, at this point, difficult to explain on purely intellectual grounds.

I have navigated this gap while conducting my own UAP research. My work developing the temporal aerospace correlation tool, a standardized framework for correlating civilian UAP sighting reports with documented rocket launch activity from Cape Canaveral, is currently under peer review at Limina: The Journal of UAP Studies.

Designing that framework meant making methodological decisions without community standards, without institutional funding and without the professional infrastructure many researchers in established fields take for granted. What is missing is not interest or data – it is the shared scaffolding that turns isolated curiosity into cumulative science.

Stigma is measurable

The most rigorous evidence for the gap between faculty interest in UAP and faculty willingness to study it UAP comes from peer-reviewed studies by Marissa Yingling, Charlton Yingling and Bethany Bell, published in the scholarly journal Humanities and Social Sciences Communications.

Across 14 disciplines at 144 major U.S. research universities, 1,460 faculty responded to their 2023 national survey. Most surveyed believed UAP research was important. Curiosity outweighed skepticism in every discipline that was part of the study. Nearly one-fifth had personally observed something aerial they could not identify. Yet fewer than 1% had ever conducted UAP-related research.

The gap was not explained by intellectual dismissal, but it was in part explained by fear. Researchers were not primarily deterred by intellectual skepticism because they doubted the topic’s merits. Instead, they feared they might lose funding, face ridicule from colleagues or find their careers quietly derailed. Faculty reported being told to “be careful.”

A 2024 follow-up study found that roughly 28% said they might vote against a colleague’s tenure case for conducting UAP research, even when they personally believed the topic warranted study.

Historian and philosopher of science Thomas Kuhn argued that scientific communities suppress anomalous questions not because those questions are unanswerable, but because they fall outside the boundaries the community has collectively decided are worth investigating.

Sociologist Thomas Gieryn called this suppression “boundary work,” referring to the active process by which scientists police what counts as legitimate science.

For UAP researchers, the data and tools to study the phenomenon exist. What may not exist is social permission to use them without professional consequence.

Creating an academic discipline

Academic disciplines do not emerge spontaneously. They require dedicated journals, agreed-upon methods, graduate programs and professional societies.

The history of cognitive neuroscience demonstrates how disciplines emerge. Before the 1980s, researchers at the intersection of neuroscience and cognitive psychology faced resistance from both parent disciplines.

These fields achieved mainstream acceptance only after targeted funding from the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation, new brain-imaging tools and the gradual formation of academic programs that created career pathways for researchers. Researchers at the nexus of these fields did not wait for central questions to be resolved. They built infrastructure, and the infrastructure made progress possible.

UAP studies as a discipline is developing some of these elements, but largely outside universities. The Society for UAP Studies, a nonprofit of scholars and researchers, operates Limina as a double-blind, peer-reviewed journal and has convened international symposia drawing researchers from physics, philosophy of science and the social sciences. But a nonprofit scholarly society without tenured faculty does not constitute a discipline.

To turn UAP studies into a recognized academic field would require three things.

First, funding. The Yingling studies found that competitive research grants would do more to unlock faculty participation than any other single factor. Without grants, researchers cannot hire students to assist them, maintain instruments or sustain the multiyear projects that produce meaningful results.

Second, shared methodological standards – these would entail agreed-upon procedures for collecting, recording and evaluating UAP reports – would mean findings from one research group can be compared and built upon by others.

Third, institutions could publicly affirm that they will evaluate appropriately rigorous UAP scholarship on its scientific merits during tenure reviews. Several universities have already done this for gun violence research and psychedelic-assisted therapy studies.

These are not isolated examples. Research into near-death experiences and adverse childhood experiences followed similar trajectories, moving from being a professional liability to mainstream legitimacy after the removal of institutional barriers.

The international comparison

This gap in UAP scholarship is unique to the United States. France’s GEIPAN, a dedicated investigation unit within its national space agency, has operated since 1977. It has publicly archived approximately 5,300 French UAP cases, of which about 2% to 3% remain unexplained after rigorous analysis.

In 2020, Japan formalized UAP reporting protocols for its Self-Defense Forces, the branch of the Japanese military responsible for national defense. By June 2024, more than 80 lawmakers had formed a parliamentary UAP investigation group that by May 2025 had formally proposed a dedicated UAP research office to the defense minister. Canada launched its own multiagency UAP investigation survey in 2023.

None of these actions has produced a corresponding response from American research universities. Universities provide independent, peer-reviewed analyses that government programs structurally cannot.

The University of Würzburg in Germany became the first Western university to officially recognize UAP as a legitimate object of academic research in 2022, when it formally added UAP investigation to its research canon. Researchers at Stockholm University and the Nordic Institute for Theoretical Physics in Sweden have been actively publishing peer-reviewed UAP research since 2017, most recently in Scientific Reports in October 2025.

Congress has passed legislation, the Pentagon is reporting on its investigations, and the president has directed federal agencies to begin releasing records. So the question no longer is whether governments take UAP seriously – it is whether universities will follow, and which ones will get there first.

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

– ref. While the US government is investigating unidentified anomalous phenomena, academic researchers studying them face stigma – https://theconversation.com/while-the-us-government-is-investigating-unidentified-anomalous-phenomena-academic-researchers-studying-them-face-stigma-277722

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Jose Abisambra, Professor of Neuroscience, University of Florida

“Yes, doctor. My dad’s first fall was on his 65th birthday. He stood in the driveway and suddenly dropped backwards on his back. After he fell two more times, we came to the clinic.”

The symptoms the patient’s son described didn’t fit the usual diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease. The family noted mood changes, including outbursts of anger. When the patient tried reading, the words “jumped” at him. Instead of looking down the page with his eyes, he moved his entire head. While his hands didn’t shake, he noticeably moved around more slowly.

Dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s. The doctors weren’t convinced this was the right diagnosis, but it was the best they could come up with. He was given medications for Parkinson’s. They treated his symptoms with physical therapy and blood thinners to prevent clots if he got injured from a fall. But his condition worsened, and he died within 10 years.

He had been misdiagnosed. He actually had progressive supranuclear palsy, a rare and aggressive neurodegenerative disease with similar symptoms to Parkinson’s. The late Rev. Jesse Jackson, who died on Feb. 17, 2026, at age 84, had a similar experience of misdiagnosis.

About 6 to 10 in 100,000 people are affected by progressive supranuclear palsy, totaling around 30,000 patients in the United States. But because this disease is often misdiagnosed, the real numbers are likely higher. It shares similar symptoms with Parkinson’s, making it very challenging to distinguish between the two. In fact, PSP is also called atypical parkinsonism. Moreover, the brain cells of people with PSP share similar pathological signs with 20 other neurodegenerative disorders.

There are no biological tests to screen for progressive supranuclear palsy and no therapies specifically for this disease. Patients like Jackson are stuck with treatments that don’t improve their quality of life. In our recently published research, my neuroscience lab identified a potential biomarker that could help change how doctors approach this disease.

Genetics of progressive supranuclear palsy

Rare genetic changes can increase someone’s risk of developing progressive supranuclear palsy.

For example, researchers found that a single mutation on the gene coding for the stress sensor protein PERK increases a person’s risk of developing the disease. PERK helps relieve stress from a part of the cell that acts as a warehouse for newly made proteins. When the cell becomes stressed, PERK dials down the production of new proteins and gives this warehouse time to recover.

Many labs worked to find why this single change in DNA could unleash a devastating life sentence. My team and I had previously found that alterations in a key protein involved in neurodegenerative diseases, tau, can activate PERK, which further weaponizes abnormal tau against cells.

After identifying three other PERK mutations, the field focused on targeting PERK as a way to treat the disease. However, results were conflicting: Both increasing and decreasing PERK activity improved cell survival and brain function in animal and cell models.

Then researchers made a crucial discovery: Unlike properly functioning PERK, the mutant form of this protein could not eliminate tau clumps in the brain. This meant that the brain normally has a way to get rid of toxic tau, but this mechanism was compromised in people who have the mutation.

Treatment strategies that could change the activity of PERK, even in sick patients, could provide a way to fight this disease.

How PERK connects to PSP

My team and I wanted to understand how PERK promotes the abnormal accumulations of tau protein that causes progressive supranuclear palsy.

First, we genetically engineered cells to express normal or mutant PERK. As expected, while both forms of PERK carried out nearly identical functions, mutant PERK did not sufficiently clear out tau. Our next step was to identify which proteins PERK actually affected.

We hypothesized that both versions of PERK reduced the production of different proteins. To test this, we tagged cells with an antibiotic that attaches to newly made proteins.

Surprisingly, only four proteins differed between normal and mutant PERK cells, suggesting we’d found a potential key to understand how progressive supranuclear palsy develops and how it kills brain cells.

One of the proteins we identified, DLX1, was previously associated with the disease. After confirming that DLX1 is enriched in the brains of people with PSP, we tested how changing DLX1 levels would affect fruit flies engineered to produce high levels of tau in their brains.

We found that reducing DLX1 levels in the flies minimized the damage tau causes on cells. These findings strongly imply that DLX1 plays a role in the development of progressive supranuclear palsy.

Future of PSP treatment

Effectively treating diseases requires identifying how they damage cells at the molecular level. Early diagnosis is especially critical to opening an effective therapeutic window before irreversible damage occurs.

Our study offers the first evidence linking key proteins involved in the development of progressive supranuclear palsy, which has major implications for how it’s treated and diagnosed. For example, screening for higher DLX1 levels in the brain or blood could confirm a diagnosis of the disease. Also, developing drugs that reduce DLX1 could potentially reduce symptoms in patients.

Importantly, our team identified three other proteins we are currently testing to see whether they can also offer improved diagnostic and therapeutic value. Combination therapies that target these proteins could potentially help improve patients’ lives.

As researchers work toward more accurate diagnoses and treatment, patients can have more hope to alleviate the devastating consequences of progressive supranuclear palsy.

Jose Abisambra receives funding from the National Institutes of Health. Prior research funding for his work originated from the Department of Defense, the Alzheimer’s Association, the Rotary Club, and the CurePSP foundation. He is a consultant for CurieBio and co-editor-in-chief of the scientific journal Brain Research.

– ref. Jesse Jackson’s misdiagnosis of Parkinson’s is common – new genetic discovery could lead to treatment for this deadly disease – https://theconversation.com/jesse-jacksons-misdiagnosis-of-parkinsons-is-common-new-genetic-discovery-could-lead-to-treatment-for-this-deadly-disease-276944

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Itay Ravid, Associate Professor of Law, Villanova University

Nearly one-third of U.S. children reported missing are Black, even though Black people constitute roughly 14% of the U.S. population.

To address one dimension of this problem, Pennsylvania and a few other states, including Alabama and Massachusetts, have in recent years proposed legislation to reform missing child alert systems. Not all missing children cases trigger an Amber Alert – the nationwide emergency alert system for missing children – but those that do receive greater public and media attention. These states suggest implementing an “Ebony Alert” that focuses on children of color.

Pennsylvania state Rep. Gina Curry introduced a bill “specifically tailored to finding missing Black and Brown youth” in June 2024 and reintroduced it in January 2025. It is currently sitting in the Children and Youth Committee.

Pennsylvania and the other states where these laws are pending are taking a cue from California, which started its statewide Ebony Alert program in January 2024. California’s system aims to guarantee that cases of missing Black youth are treated fairly by law enforcement agencies and the public is alerted in similar fashion and through the same venues offered under Amber Alerts.

I am a law professor who studies victimization and inequalities in the criminal legal system. In a recent legal paper, attorney Tanisha Brown and I examined how Ebony-like laws might save more Black children who go missing.

Our study focuses specifically on Black children, though we recognize that the disproportionate number of missing children from Native American and other marginalized communities also deserve attention and further inquiry.

The crisis of missing Black children

Our original data analysis suggests that the probability of Black children going missing is three times that of white children.

The May 2025 Minority and Missing Report – a collaborative effort among leading law enforcement and various civil society groups – also highlighted the disproportionate number of missing Black, American Indian and Alaska Native children.

These disparities extend beyond reporting rates for missing children.

Black children are also more vulnerable to trafficking and exploitation than white children. Structural inequalities, such as poverty, housing instability and overrepresentation in the foster care system, compound their risks.

Amber’s role in the disparities

The Amber Alert system was adopted in the early 2000s. Amber stands for America’s Missing: Broadcast Emergency Response. It is a powerful and comprehensive alert infrastructure that distributes information about a missing child through radio, television, text messages, highway signs, email notifications and major online platforms, including Google and Facebook.

Many of the kids who go missing are victims of crime – abducted from their neighborhoods, homes and schools, subjected to physical and psychological abuse, and, in some tragic cases, killed. Amber Alerts mobilize communities to assist in the search process.

To issue an Amber Alert, law enforcement must determine that specific statutory conditions are met, including the age of the child, law enforcement’s belief in imminent danger of serious injury or death, and the sufficiency of existing information to assist in recovery. Crucially, children who are categorized as “runaways” are excluded from Amber eligibility.

Advocacy groups for missing children argue that for a host of reasons, including implicit and explicit racial bias, Black children who go missing are disproportionately labeled as runaways. This excludes them from the protections of the Amber system and reduces the likelihood of them being found.

Even when an Amber Alert is initiated, some data suggests that Black children are less likely to be recovered than white children.

States respond with Ebony Alerts

California’s Ebony Alert system ensures that all cases involving missing Black youth receive public notification comparable in scope and visibility to Amber Alerts. It offers different criteria for the initiation of the alerts. For example, an Ebony Alert may be issued when law enforcement determines that an individual went missing under “unexplained and suspicious circumstances.”

The Pennsylvania proposal generally follows California’s provisions, while stating that it is intended for “young people of color.”

These efforts publicly acknowledge and attempt to address the disproportionate impact of missing-child crises on Black communities. They also shine light on the limitations of formally colorblind frameworks like Amber, as Amber’s race-neutral design has, in practice, produced racially disparate outcomes – with potential life-or-death consequences.

Addressing Amber’s structural flaws

In order to fix the Amber Alert system in states without Ebony Alert legislation, we propose three reforms that would reduce flaws in its design.

1. A more holistic evaluation of missing child cases: Currently, all Amber factors must be present to initiate an alert. Our approach suggests that no single factor should stop an alert from being issued. Doing so will require law enforcement agents to approach each case with more complexity and nuance, including recognizing particular community needs.

2. A broader spectrum of “at risk” conditions: Law enforcement can issue alerts in cases beyond the most typical cases of “serious risk to bodily integrity or death.” This might include “unexplained and suspicious circumstances” or recognizing that the missing person might be subject to trafficking.

3. Shift the burden within law enforcement decision-making: To mitigate bias in alert initiation, we propose that law enforcement bear the burden of explaining why not to initiate an alert – instead of why to – when they cannot explain circumstances behind a child going missing.

Together, these reforms could significantly address existing problems within the Amber system itself.

Equal protection challenges

The design of Ebony Alert laws, however, raises a constitutional question: Can such laws withstand equal protection challenges?

Under current doctrine, Ebony Alert laws would likely be considered a racial classification subject to strict scrutiny, an almost impassable legal hurdle. The 2020 Students for Fair Admissions Inc. v. President and Fellows of Harvard College, in which the Supreme Court ruled that several race-conscious admission programs at Harvard and the University of North Carolina violated the equal protection clause, might have further challenged this type of legislation.

To pass strict scrutiny, laws must be narrowly tailored interventions that serve a compelling state interest.

As Brown and I argue, the interests and context of Ebony Alert laws differ meaningfully from those in the Students for Fair Admission case. Ebony is law-enforcement legislation aimed at protecting children who are victims of crime. Courts have long recognized that “safeguarding the physical and psychological well-being of a minor” is a compelling interest.

Ebony Alert laws also address documented racial disparities in the Amber system that undermine equal protection and public safety. According to case law, race-conscious measures may be deemed compelling when “essential to accomplishing criminal system objectives within a community served,” including maintaining trust and perceptions of fairness. These points are developed more fully in our paper.

To be sure, Ebony Alerts are not a panacea. As the Minority and Missing Report emphasizes, there are broader issues, such as inconsistent reporting protocols, inadequate training and strained relations between marginalized communities and police.

Nonetheless, Ebony Alert proposals invite a broader reckoning with how race-neutral systems can produce racially unequal outcomes. Carefully designed race-conscious remedies may be necessary to fulfill the criminal legal system’s most basic promise: protecting children’s lives.

Read more of our stories about Philadelphia and Pennsylvania, or sign up for our Philadelphia newsletter on Substack.

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

– ref. Nearly 1 in 3 missing children in the US are Black, driving Pennsylvania and other states to propose ‘Ebony Alerts’ to ensure equal protection and public safety – https://theconversation.com/nearly-1-in-3-missing-children-in-the-us-are-black-driving-pennsylvania-and-other-states-to-propose-ebony-alerts-to-ensure-equal-protection-and-public-safety-275388

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Coalter G Lathrop, Senior Lecturing Fellow in International Law, Duke University

Americans have a reputation for being bad at world geography, and the current U.S. administration is no exception, particularly when it comes to correctly identifying what is – and is not – part of the United States of America.

President Donald Trump’s April 2025 executive order “unleashing America’s offshore critical minerals” provides an example. It purports to “unleash” seabed minerals both within and far outside U.S. jurisdiction.

The minerals on the U.S. seabed are America’s. The minerals on the international seabed are not “America’s.” The administration plans to authorize companies to mine in international areas, nonetheless.

I have studied the international agreements and customary rules governing the oceans since the Law of the Sea Convention entered into force in 1994. The Trump administration’s attempt to unilaterally exploit the seabed resources of the global commons will severely undermine part of the rules-based international order that the U.S. built and of which it has been the main beneficiary.

The scramble for critical minerals

The U.S. has been trying to secure access to critical minerals that are essential for modern technology. These materials include nickel, manganese and cobalt for large batteries and copper for the power grid. All can be found on land, but some can also be found at the bottom of the sea.

Of particular interest are polymetallic nodules – agglomerations, typically smaller than a potato, containing manganese and other metals and found in the silt of the deep ocean floor. An Australian mining executive described these nodules as “an EV battery in a rock.”

The Clarion Clipperton Zone, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, contains one of the highest concentrations of polymetallic nodules. But whose nodules are they?

My ocean

In September 1945, President Harry Truman claimed for America a large part of the seabed extending from its shores, areas that, before Truman’s claim, were shared by the international community.

In reaction, countries around the world spent the next five decades hammering out a system to limit how much of the seabed that coastal countries could claim, and establishing rules that would govern the remaining shared areas of the oceans.

The resulting arrangement, finalized in 1994, gives countries that border the ocean authority over the resources in the water and seabed within 200 nautical miles (370 kilometers) of their coasts, known as “exclusive economic zones,” and, for some countries, additional areas of seabed beyond that limit.

add kilometer number in the caption

The United States enjoys one of the world’s largest exclusive economic zones today. It includes an area totaling over 4 million square miles (10 million square kilometers) – larger than all 50 U.S. states combined – and an additional nearly 400 million square miles (1 million square kilometers) of seabed extending even farther offshore.

In those areas, the United States controls the exploitation and management of living and nonliving natural resources, including seabed minerals.

Our ocean

But exclusive economic zones were only one part of what the Law of the Sea Convention negotiators called a “package deal.”

The other part of the deal retains the remaining areas – approximately half of the planet’s seabed – for the international community. It’s known as “the Area,” and its resources are considered the common heritage of mankind. To prevent a free-for-all, no single country can authorize mining in the Area. Instead it is managed by the International Seabed Authority for the benefit of humankind as a whole. To date, the ISA has executed 31 contracts with countries and companies to explore the mineral resources in the Area.

One hundred and seventy-one countries have joined the convention so far. However, the United States, despite being one of its primary architects, is the only industrialized nation remaining outside the treaty.

Nonetheless, the U.S. has long considered the treaty to reflect rules of customary international law. Where the Area is concerned, the U.S. respected the terms of the package deal – until now.

‘America’s’ offshore critical minerals

Trump’s offshore mining order relies on a U.S. statute enacted in 1980 as an interim measure pending completion of negotiations related to the Area. It authorized the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration to license exploration and permit commercial recovery of polymetallic nodules on the seabed in areas outside U.S. jurisdiction.

When that 1980 statute was enacted, there was a spurt of commercial interest. The U.S. issued four exploration licenses. Two were relinquished in the 1990s. In the 30-plus years since the international community finalized the package deal, even the company holding the two remaining NOAA licenses – Lockheed Martin – has considered them largely worthless unless the U.S. ratifies the Law of the Sea Convention.

That changed in April 2025 when Trump, citing the 1980 U.S. law, ordered the NOAA to “expedite the process for reviewing and issuing seabed mineral exploration licenses and commercial recovery permits in areas beyond national jurisdiction.”

A few days later, Canadian mining firm The Metals Company submitted an application via its wholly-owned subsidiary TMC USA to mine polymetallic nodules in the Area under U.S. unilateral authority. TMC USA touted its application for mining areas in the nodule-rich Clarion Clipperton Zone – in the middle of the Area – as a “world first”.

The International Seabed Authority condemned the move and reminded countries that “unilateral exploitation of resources that belong to no single State but to all of humanity is prohibited.”

Is that legal?

So, does the Trump administration’s plan violate U.S. international obligations?

The answer is maybe.

The U.S. is not a party to the Law of the Sea Convention, so it is not bound by the treaty. But scholars disagree on whether U.S. unilateral mining would violate obligations arising from rules of customary international law.

The United States is not the only player in this game. If any of the 171 countries that have subscribed to the treaty were to participate in or allow their citizens to participate in U.S.-authorized mining activity in the Area, they would violate their treaty obligations. Any other convention partner could bring them before the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea in Hamburg, Germany.

Canada, home of TMC, could find itself in that position. So could many nations whose citizens or companies have worked with TMC. If those partners continued their work with TMC USA under U.S. authorization, their home countries could be exposed to legal action.

The Area is not a domestic source

In announcing an expedited seabed mining application process in January 2026, NOAA Administrator Neil Jacobs mischaracterized polymetallic nodules in the Area as “a domestic source of critical minerals for the United States.”

To be clear, the United States has critical minerals on its land territory and within its area of exclusive seabed jurisdiction. It is beginning to explore those resources with an eye to possible future mining. These are domestic American sources of critical minerals – they are “America’s.” The minerals in the Area are not.

Yes, America needs critical minerals, but it should not undermine the system of international ocean governance – a system it engineered and from which it benefits perhaps more than any other nation – to get them.

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

– ref. In its hunt for critical minerals, the US is misconstruing what is and is not America’s – https://theconversation.com/in-its-hunt-for-critical-minerals-the-us-is-misconstruing-what-is-and-is-not-americas-278185

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Ahmed Ibrahim Yunus, Ph.D. Candidate in Environmental Engineering, Georgia Institute of Technology

Every day, food scraps disappear into trash bags, are hauled away and forgotten. But that waste could be turned into something productive.

Across the United States, about 97 million metric tons of food waste are discarded each year, of which about 37 million metric tons end up buried in landfills.

Once underground, that organic material breaks down without oxygen and releases methane, a short-lived yet powerful greenhouse gas.

At the same time, the nutrients and energy stored in that food are permanently lost. But there is a better way. Research my colleagues and I conducted found that communities across the country already operate facilities designed to handle organic matter: wastewater treatment plants. Many larger, well-funded plants already have the infrastructure to process food waste, though not every plant is ready to do so today.

Landfills are not designed for food waste

Food waste is fundamentally different from plastics, metals or glass. It’s organic and can decompose naturally. But when it’s placed in a landfill, its decomposition emits significant greenhouse gases.

Modern landfills are designed to capture the methane emitted, but even the most efficient systems still allow almost 58% to escape into the atmosphere. That food waste could be turned into energy or fertilizer, but instead it contributes to global warming.

By contrast, wastewater treatment plants process sewage using microbial communities that naturally break down organic matter. Many also capture methane produced during treatment and convert it into usable energy. Others recover nutrients such as phosphorus that can be turned into agricultural fertilizer. Over time, many plants have evolved from simple sanitation systems into resource-recovery facilities that generate power, reclaim materials and reduce environmental pollution.

These existing systems already process organic matter and could handle food waste, too.

What happens when food waste goes to a treatment plant

Our research examined what would happen if food waste were sent to wastewater treatment plants rather than landfills. We used real data from a full-scale plant that handles food waste along with sewage.

When we compared greenhouse gas emissions for the same food waste composition, we found that sending food to a landfill would emit 58.2 kilograms (129 pounds) of carbon dioxide equivalent per ton of food waste.

In comparison, we looked at a conventional wastewater treatment plant, the type of plant most common in the U.S. It achieved net-negative emissions of –0.03 kilograms (about 1 ounce) of carbon dioxide equivalent per ton of food waste treated. The plant captures over 95% of methane, compared to roughly 50% at landfills, saving the atmosphere from additional greenhouse gases.

But we found that the advanced treatment plant we studied reduced emissions further. In our analysis, the advanced facility achieved net-negative emissions of –0.19 kilograms (about 7 ounces) of carbon dioxide equivalent per ton of food waste treated.

Both conventional and advanced plants achieve these benefits in similar ways. Treating food waste at either type of plant prevents the 58.2 kilograms of carbon dioxide equivalent per ton that would otherwise escape from landfills. The plants capture biogas to generate renewable electricity, reducing the need to purchase power from the grid. They also recover enough nutrients to fertilize about 23 acres of farmland annually, reducing the need for synthetic fertilizers, which require energy-intensive mining and processing.

How the logistics work

Getting the food waste to a wastewater plant doesn’t mean people put their food scraps in the drain or grind them up with an in-sink disposal. At the plant we studied, food waste was collected separately, much like recycling or yard waste, and transported by truck to treatment plants. Our emissions calculations don’t include truck emissions, because trucks are used in the other methods of food waste disposal as well.

Some cities already collect food waste by truck to go to composting facilities. San Francisco has done so since 1996. And New York City has the nation’s largest curbside organics collection, which composts food waste from 3.4 million households.

At the southeastern U.S. treatment plant we studied, trucks deliver food waste to a receiving station, where it’s processed to remove plastics, metals and other nonorganic materials before being blended into a slurry with the sewage solids. This mixture is then added to anaerobic digesters – sealed tanks where microorganisms break down organic material.

The methane that is produced is captured to generate electricity and heat. The remaining solid material is rich in nutrients and can be used to produce useful material, such as fertilizer.

We also found that adding food waste did not overload the plant or cause problems in its operation. The facility processed all of the county’s landfilled food waste – 107,320 tons annually, representing 38% of the county’s total food waste generation. Because of food waste’s lower density compared to wastewater, this added only 0.43% to the plant’s daily capacity. The plant consistently met effluent water regulatory standards. And at certain points, treatment efficiency improved as a result of the additional organic material, which supported the system’s biological processes.

The economics may surprise cities

Local officials, as well as taxpayers, are often worried about the potential costs of a project like this. Wastewater treatment is already expensive, and communities’ existing plants may be nearing capacity.

But the economic results from our analysis suggest that handling food waste in wastewater treatment plants can be financially viable. Towns already pay landfills and incinerators what are called “tipping fees,” based on the weight of the waste delivered. Wastewater treatment plants can also charge these fees.

They can also sell, or use themselves, the methane produced and sell the fertilizer. That additional income means plants can make money even if they charge lower tipping fees than landfills.

Not every wastewater plant is ready to accept food waste immediately. The facility we analyzed is large and well equipped. Smaller operations would likely require new or upgraded equipment, which would involve planning and local investment.

The overall finding of our research is that the limitation isn’t technological or financial. The core systems already exist to transform food waste into a recoverable resource: Cities already handle organic material every day. And they operate complex biological treatment systems. Our evidence suggests these facilities could, in fact, handle food waste in ways that are environmentally beneficial and economically realistic.

Ahmed Ibrahim Yunus receives funding from Georgia Tech’s Renewable Bioproducts Institute (RBI).

Joe Frank Bozeman III receives funding from Georgia Tech’s Renewable Bioproducts Institute (RBI).

– ref. How sewage treatment plants could handle food waste, sparing landfills and the climate – https://theconversation.com/how-sewage-treatment-plants-could-handle-food-waste-sparing-landfills-and-the-climate-275529

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Holly Willis, Professor of Cinematic Arts, University of Southern California

I teach a course on AI and filmmaking at USC’s School of Cinematic Arts, and lately, rather than planning each session well in advance, I’ve been structuring the class the night before. I’ll browse platforms like X, Substack and YouTube, selecting the most provocative articles and video clips to present the following morning.

It’s a testament to how quickly artificial intelligence’s relationship to filmmaking is evolving: Each week brings new – often startling – developments.

The next morning in class, my students and I debate the ethics, aesthetics and the storytelling changes taking place in these collaborations with AI.

And we’re not alone: Throughout Hollywood, everyone – aspiring actors and filmmakers, stars, screenwriters and studio execs – seems to have a take on what’s coming next. But I think three trends in particular are going to be hot topics of conversation at this year’s Oscars parties.

Nothing uncanny about this clip

In February 2026, a 15-second AI-generated video clip of Tom Cruise battling Brad Pitt on a burned-out highway overpass went viral.

Depending on the viewer, the video elicited either admiration, outrage or existential hand-wringing.

Created by Irish filmmaker Ruairi Robinson via a generative-AI tool called Seedance 2.0, the video marked yet another milestone in the propulsive growth of AI tools.

Seedance 2.0 – which was developed by ByteDance, the Chinese company behind TikTok – is now one of the many AI tools available to create short-form video clips. But unlike most AI-generated videos, Pitt and Cruise don’t look creepy, uncanny or animated in the clip, which almost perfectly mimics live-action footage. The appearance of two A-list stars in a fairly realistic scene created by a relatively unknown director using stolen likenesses jolted the industry.

The backlash was swift. Disney sent a cease-and-desist letter, claiming that the video was generated from a dataset that most likely includes Disney’s copyrighted characters. The actors’ union, SAG-AFTRA, pointed to the video’s “blatant infringement” of the actors’ likenesses, as well as their voices.

“SAG-AFTRA stands with the studios in condemning the blatant infringement enabled by Bytedance’s new AI video model Seedance 2.0,” the guild wrote in a statement. This practice, the guild added, “undercuts the ability of human talent to earn a livelihood,” while disregarding “law, ethics, industry standards and basic principles of consent.”

In class, after watching the video, we explored the ethics of using someone’s likeness without permission, the challenges facing actors who build careers based on their unique ability to embody characters, and what the future holds for our understanding of acting.

If filmmakers can prompt fake actors to deliver precise performances, where does that leave human actors?

In with the old

Since 2023, the skyline of the Las Vegas strip has been dominated by an illuminated orb called the Sphere: an entertainment complex featuring a 360-degree LED screen covering 160,000 square feet (14,864 square meters). The Sphere recently surpassed 2 million tickets sold for a reimagining of the classic 1939 film “The Wizard of Oz.”

The film, which premiered in August 2024, was shortened, its color was enhanced, and it was stretched to expand across the interior of the dome. AI was used to transfer the imagery from the film’s original, modest aspect ratio to the giant dome. This required generating new imagery around the edges of the original shots in what’s known as “AI outpainting.” The technology was also deployed to boost the original film’s resolution and to enhance certain scenes.

Some critics fretted that this fairly radical augmentation of the original classic would offend viewers. Instead, it has drawn them in droves to the Sphere, where they’ve been willing to shell out between US$100 and $200 per ticket.

Not bad for a movie about a girl from Kansas made in 1939.

Given the resounding success of “The Wizard of Oz,” experts expect producers to plumb the film archives for other potential hits and enhance them with AI before screening them in venues as varied as IMAX theaters and Cosm, another 360-degree dome with locations in Los Angeles, Dallas and Atlanta.

Or AI can simply be used to create material that was never completed for a historic film.

In fact, The New Yorker recently profiled AI media entrepreneur Edward Saatchi, who is working to recreate and reincorporate lost footage from Orson Welles’ 1942 feature “The Magnificent Ambersons.” While Welles was in Brazil shooting a documentary, executives at RKO Radio Pictures reedited the film without his approval after a poor preview screening. They cut around 45 minutes, replaced the original ending with a happier one and destroyed most of the footage that had been removed.

Saatchi’s idea is to build a dataset that includes the existing film, as well as scripts, notes, images and even new performances by actors. Then he plans to use his AI platform, Showrunner, to create new scenes from this data.

While Saatchi hopes to honor the director’s creative vision by producing the film he originally intended, his efforts open up some thorny questions.

Is it appropriate to take an existing artwork and revise it without the creator’s input? Isn’t there something sacrosanct about a film, the intentions of the director and the performances of the actors in a film’s original form? To what extent should these questions be overlooked if refashioning old movies will introduce them to new audiences?

Fewer opportunities?

There’s also an undercurrent of anxiety in my classes. What will happen, my students often wonder, once they graduate?

They’re worried that within a year or two, AI will have replaced entry-level film industry jobs, from concept artists to apprentice-level editors, before they’ve even had a chance to enter the workforce.

They have reason to fear.

In 2024, the Animation Guild published a sobering report claiming that by 2026, “creative workers will be facing an era of disruption, defined by the consolidation of some job roles, the replacement of existing job roles with new ones, and the elimination of many jobs entirely.”

Some of those predictions have borne out: 41,000 jobs in film and television have disappeared in Los Angeles County alone over the past three years.

But I’ve tried to counter the hard statistics with some stories of thoughtful practices.

For example, filmmaker Paul Trillo at the AI studio Asteria has talked about how he seeks to keep artists at the center of the process. When he detailed the company’s work on a music video for the singer-songwriter Cuco, he was keen to highlight the number of artists working on the project. Yes, AI tools were used. But they were integrated in a way that replaced the tedious work, not the creative practice.

“Rather than removing [artists] from the process, it actually allowed them to do a lot more so a small team can dream a lot bigger,” Trillo explains at the end of the video.

In January 2026, the management consulting firm McKinsey published a report that largely echoes Trillo’s positive outlook. It forecasts more adoption of AI throughout the industry. But it also points to ways that the technology could lead to different kinds of work and open up new possibilities. For example, as AI-generated scenes become commonplace, studios will need technicians who know how to blend real footage with digitally created worlds. And as AI lowers the cost of producing polished films and shows, it could allow more “micro-studios” and independent filmmakers to create professional-quality content.

At the same time, the report also quotes a studio executive who concedes that AI could represent “a more significant platform shift than we have ever seen before in our industry.”

So it’s no wonder my students, along with varied critics, commentators and industry professionals, are nervous.

However, from where I stand, I’m convinced that the industry will weather this radical disruption. It’s adapted to big changes in the past: the addition of sound in the 1920s, the threat posed by videotape in the 1980s and streaming in the 2000s.

In the end, people will always crave new, artfully told stories. While the filmmaking tools and job market may be in transition, that core need for storytelling is not going away.

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

– ref. As the Oscars approach, Hollywood grapples with AI’s growing influence on filmmaking – https://theconversation.com/as-the-oscars-approach-hollywood-grapples-with-ais-growing-influence-on-filmmaking-273766