De Caracas a Teherán: la diplomacia de Trump y su impacto en los mercados de hidrocarburos

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Eszter Wirth, Profesora de Economía Internacional (ICADE), Universidad Pontificia Comillas

Clare Louise Jackson/Shutterstock

A principios de 2026 el petróleo cotizaba a 60 dólares por barril, su nivel más bajo en los últimos cuatro años, en medio de expectativas de precios a la baja y un aparente exceso de oferta mundial. Las expectativas de que la intervención estadounidense en Venezuela impulsara la extracción contuvieron los precios, que ni siquiera los esfuerzos de la OPEP+ lograron elevar. Sin embargo, en las últimas semanas el barril ha alcanzado los 70 dólares, reflejando las nuevas tensiones en Oriente Medio.

¿’Déjà vu’ de enero?

La amenaza de Donald Trump de escalar el conflicto militar con Irán ha adquirido en las últimas semanas un tono cada vez más agresivo. Los despliegues navales y aéreos en Oriente Medio recuerdan a las movilizaciones de Washington en Venezuela del pasado enero y al despliegue ruso en la frontera ucraniana hace cuatro años. Una vez que están movilizados equipos y buques, retirarlos sin entrar en combate resulta políticamente costoso, con el riesgo de que la amenaza pierda credibilidad si no desemboca en acciones.

Mientras tanto, las negociaciones entre las autoridades estadounidenses e iraníes en Ginebra sobre el enriquecimiento de uranio siguen estancadas. Los dirigentes iraníes se mantienen firmes y rechazan concesiones significativas, posponiendo cualquier avance.

Queda la incógnita de cómo se desarrollaría una posible intervención estadounidense. La retórica de Trump y el intenso despliegue militar sugieren que su estrategia sería derrocar al régimen de Teherán y ejercer una presión máxima similar a la observada en Venezuela, sustituyendo al líder supremo Ali Khamenei por una figura que esté dispuesta a seguir las órdenes de la Casa Blanca.

El estrecho de Ormuz, epicentro del riesgo… otra vez

Las tensiones entre Trump e Irán se han trasladado inmediatamente a los mercados energéticos a través de la “prima de riesgo geopolítico”, el sobrecoste financiero generado por la inestabilidad y las tensiones.

Un elemento clave es el estrecho de Ormuz: cualquier riesgo de conflicto en la región genera una prima de riesgo porque por ese paso transita alrededor de una quinta parte del petróleo mundial, proveniente de los grandes exportadores del Golfo –Arabia Saudí, Kuwait, Irak, Emiratos Árabes Unidos– y una cuarta parte del gas natural licuado (GNL), mayormente procedente de Catar.

Aunque un conflicto armado podría interrumpir el comercio en el estrecho de forma parcial –de hecho, Irán anunció la semana pasada su cierre temporal para la realización de ejercicios militares–, un cierre total y prolongado de Ormuz es poco probable, tanto por razones militares como económicas. Geográficamente, el estrecho es relativamente ancho y sus rutas de navegación se encuentran en aguas de Irán y Omán, no es un cuello de botella estrechísimo que se pueda bloquear con un par de barcos.

Además, el bloqueo prolongado significaría un suicidio económico para Irán. Su economía depende en gran medida del tránsito libre de mercancías, hidrocarburíferas y no hidrocarburíferas, a través del estrecho. Aunque el país envía al exterior cerca de 23 millones de toneladas de trigo al año, también necesita importar grandes volúmenes de productos agrícolas para abastecer su mercado interno. En caso de cierre, se dispararía el precio del petróleo, pero también devastaría sus ingresos y podría arrastrar a más países vecinos.

En el mercado de gas natural el impacto es más indirecto, pero igualmente relevante. Irán es un productor importante y comparte con Catar el mayor yacimiento del mundo. Las sanciones o posibles daños en sus infraestructuras podrían tensionar el mercado regional y reducir la oferta de GNL, afectando a Europa y Asia. Además, al ser el petróleo y el gas bienes sustitutivos, un repunte del petróleo suele incrementar también la cotización del gas.

El precio del gas natural de referencia en Estados Unidos (Henry Hub) ha registrado gran volatilidad en 2026, en parte debido a la ola de frío que azota al país. En el TTF neerlandés, el mercado gasista de referencia para Europa, el gas subió esta semana de los 29 € por megavatio hora a 33,5 €.

¿Estará Trump tensando la cuerda más de lo que le conviene?

Un bloqueo del estrecho, aunque fuera breve, encarecería el petróleo y crearía una espiral inflacionista global, incluida la de EE. UU. Dicho escenario sería incompatible con la prioridad de Trump de aliviar el alza de precios antes de las elecciones legislativas de mitad de mandato para retener el máximo de escaños para los republicanos.

Sin embargo, la lógica política puede ser más compleja: la Casa Blanca podría confiar en que el shock fuese breve, liberando reservas estratégicas o pidiendo aumentos de producción a países aliados. Trump incluso podría confiar en que el coste económico fuese compensado por una política exterior exitosa. El problema es que los mercados hidrocarburíferos tienden a reaccionar con rapidez y a corregirse con lentitud, de modo que incluso una interrupción corta puede dejar efectos persistentes en las expectativas y precios.

The Conversation

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

ref. De Caracas a Teherán: la diplomacia de Trump y su impacto en los mercados de hidrocarburos – https://theconversation.com/de-caracas-a-teheran-la-diplomacia-de-trump-y-su-impacto-en-los-mercados-de-hidrocarburos-276683

De licántropos y nahuales a ‘furros’ y ‘therians’: la identidad humana siempre fue un poco animal

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Fabian Acosta Rico, Doctor en Antropología Social , Universidad de Guadalajara

El término completo en inglés para therians es therianthropic, que en su desglose etimológico significa animal salvaje (therion) y hombre (anthrōpos). El hombre animal o bestial, así sería su definición literal.

No es tan nuevo. Nos recuerda a Mowgli, el niño lobezno de El libro de la selva, o a Tarzán, el hombre mono. Personajes de la literatura, las historietas anglosajonas y el cine. Y he aquí, en los therians, a sus nuevos y contemporáneos reinventores.

Esta idea persistió en el mito de los licántropos u hombres lobos. Más que seres malignos, estos fungían como guardianes de los bosques.

En tiempos más arcaicos y culturas animistas se creía en la igualdad espiritual entre bestias, plantas, hombres y cualquier otra manifestación de la naturaleza. El nahual, conectado con el animal totémico de la tribu, podía, simbólicamente, romper su forma humana y transformarse chamánicamente en el oso, el cuervo, el lobo o el ciervo. Todo ello envuelto en la sacralidad.

Sobre el tema se puede revisar la obra clásica de Mircea Eliade: El chamanismo y las técnicas arcaicas del éxtasis.

Mito y envidia del animal

El movimiento therian no se remonta directamente a estas épocas. Pero si es una reminiscencia de esa ancestral conexión, mezclada con algo de la envidia que ha sentido el hombre por el animal.

Lo vemos en el mito de Epimeteo, el titán que, por encomienda de Zeus, repartió todos los dones a los animales de la creación. El último en la fila, el hombre, no recibió nada. Ni garras afiladas, ni alas, ni colmillos. Un ser indefenso al que rescata otro titán, Prometeo, con el fuego y la razón robados a los dioses.

Esta envida ancestral es superada gracias al imperio de la fe cristiana y sus dos caras. Por un lado, la teocéntrica: Dios, el dispensador de vida, el referente y dador de sentido. Y, por otro, la antropocéntrica, con el hombre Dios encarnado en el Cristo Jesús.

Antes de los therians fue el carnaval

Como dato curioso, cabe recordar que en el Medievo existían precedentes de therians, con permisos acotados para ejercer su vinculación con las bestias. Con la máscara de la bestia que mejor simbolizaba su proclividad pecadora, desfilaban en el carnaval hombres y mujeres disfrazados de cabras lujuriosas, cerdos glotones o urracas chismosas. Se puede consultar el capítulo sobre el significado de las fiestas carnavalescas del libro Símbolos fundamentales de las ciencias sagradas, de René Guénon.

Tuvo que morir Dios, por el imperio de la razón, la ciencia y la tecnología, para que el ser humano, ahora hijo de “natura” y esculpido por la evolución, fuera plenamente libre. Libre moral y ontológicamente. Libre de todo esencialismo creacionista, dispuesto a soñar con toda licencia en ser, deconstruidamente, lo que le viniera en gana.

Soy lo que dicta mi autopercepción. ¿Y si me percibo como un animal desafiando todo humanismo antropocéntrico? ¿Qué me lo impide? Es así como surge, en plena modernidad, allá por los años 90 del siglo pasado, el movimiento therian, en el marco del temprano internet.

La postmodernidad arrastra cierto pesimismo a manera de desencanto de las promesas de la modernidad. El hombre, emancipado de Dios, tomó posesión de “natura” cual tierra de conquista. La misma que, fiel al credo del progreso, expolió hasta el límite. En el afán de crear su propio paraíso terrenal empleando el musculo tecno-científico, conjuró la distopía del cambio climático, del desastre ecológico. Es el antropocentrismo de la modernidad, depredando el mundo sin conciencia.

Generaciones como los milenial y los centenial han reaccionado avergonzándose de su humanidad. Renegaron del piramidal especismo, que colocaba al ser humano en la cumbre de la cadena alimenticia.

Esta misantropía con causa animó al movimiento therian, todavía marginal. Abjurar de mi propia humanidad, comprendiendo que podemos aprender de la sencillez instintiva del animal. En esa admiración moral, algunos vieron viable mimetizarse con las bestias.

Hijos del poshumanismo

Aunque los therians no tienen de momento un credo oficial, podemos atribuirles, uno por uno, los rasgos antropológicos y culturales de su movimiento, que sería el poshumanismo.

Carente de una esencia o forma arquetípica, el poshumanismo dice que el ser humano es un ser arrojado, por naturaleza, al mundo sin un plan o destino. Inexorablemente, está en constante transformación evolutiva. Carente de definición, puede convertirse en cualquier cosa, accidental o deliberadamente.

El therian decide parcialmente identificarse con un animal y las circunstancias culturales lo facultan para hacerlo. Le dan la justificación para montar su postmoderno carnaval, pero no como oda al pecado. Su mascarada es más un juego de niños menores que aman y admiran, no chamánicamente, un animal.

Antes que los therians, los furros, quienes muy probablemente sean sus antecesores en el mundo friki, surgido en este caso entre la comunidad otaku (seguidores y admiradores de la cultura pop japonesa), figuraban en ese mundo cultural como los más repudiados.

“El “furro”, más estético y lúdico

El “furro”, por un asunto estético y lúdico, gusta de disfrazarse de personajes de animales antropomórficos de anime o manga, como los populares Beastar o Retsuko.

Rechazados dentro de la subcultura del cosplay (afición por disfrazarse de personajes de ficción), el furro no lanza manifiestos ni desnuda su alma hablando de su identidad animal. Gusta de ir a convenciones de cómic, vistiendo sus botargas de tiernos personajes de animación.

En contraste con la discrecionalidad del furro, el therian busca escaparate y micrófono sobre todo en las redes sociales e intenta formar manada con otros iguales, que portan máscaras de zorro, perro, gato, etc.

El repudio a los therians los ha puesto en el disparadero como parte del catálogo de neurodivergentes de esta postmodernidad. Pero, sin exageraciones ni alarmismos, no pasan de ser una tribu urbana. Una de muchas, generada por las condiciones culturales, sociales, antropológicas y hasta religiosas de esta modernidad liquida.

No son la joven vanguardia del galopante transhumanismo. Lo suyo no pasa de ser un pasatiempo pueril que hace reminiscencia con el ancestral animismo. Una fusión del primitivo chamanismo con el moderno poshumanismo.

Dando un vaticinio, es muy probable que los therians, igual que ocurrió con los emos, sean sólo una moda pasajera que se magnificó como movimiento de tribu urbana gracias a las redes sociales y a internet. La red siempre esta ávida de sensacionalismo y exotismo y los therians calificaron para ser la noticia del momento, hasta que otra excentricidad de la postmodernidad los destrone.

The Conversation

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

ref. De licántropos y nahuales a ‘furros’ y ‘therians’: la identidad humana siempre fue un poco animal – https://theconversation.com/de-licantropos-y-nahuales-a-furros-y-therians-la-identidad-humana-siempre-fue-un-poco-animal-276608

Más allá de la mirada: ‘Sorda’, ‘Sirāt’ y el poder del sonido cinematográfico

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Manuel Nicolás Meseguer, Profesor titular del Departamento de Comunicación y Director del Aula de Cine, Universidad de Murcia

Imagen de la película _Sorda_. Distinto Films

Dos de las películas españolas más relevantes de 2025, Sorda, de Eva Libertad, y Sirāt, de Oliver Laxe, han situado el sonido en el centro de su desarrollo, hasta el punto de que esta última también ha sido nominada al Óscar a Mejor Sonido. Son obras muy distintas, pero en ambas el tratamiento sonoro ocupa un lugar estructural.

La dimensión sonora es consustancial al lenguaje cinematográfico y su relevancia narrativa, expresiva y sensorial resulta incuestionable. Cuanto más sólido es un proyecto y más riguroso es el trabajo de puesta en escena, mayor atención se concede al diseño sonoro y a su potencial expresivo.

Sin embargo, la atención consciente del espectador al plano sonoro sigue siendo menor que la que presta al plano visual. Se suele decir que la audiencia solo se da cuenta del sonido cuando es malo. Conviene recordar también que solo en una sala de cine, con las condiciones acústicas y técnicas para las que fue concebida la película, puede apreciarse plenamente su experiencia sonora. El minucioso y costoso trabajo de diseño, edición y mezcla está pensado para ese entorno. En el ámbito doméstico, lo que escuchamos es necesariamente una versión reducida de ese trabajo.

¿Seguro que una imagen vale más que mil palabras?

Pocas frases están tan gastadas como esa que asegura que “una imagen vale más que mil palabras”. Una palabra, un silencio, una melodía o una atmósfera sonora pueden poseer la misma potencia estética que cualquier imagen. El valor narrativo o expresivo de un elemento visual o sonoro no depende de la cantidad de estímulos ni de su espectacularidad, sino de su pertinencia dentro del proceso comunicativo.

Nuestra experiencia cotidiana lo confirma: el oído es esencial en la percepción del mundo. El oído construye espacio, anticipa presencias, genera memoria y activa emociones.

Cuando el sonido tomó la palabra

La irrupción del sonido sincronizado en 1927 transformó radicalmente la historia del cine. El cambio afectó a las profesiones creativas –guionistas, intérpretes, directores, músicos– y a los oficios técnicos y de producción. A partir de entonces no bastaba con controlar la luz: también había que dominar el registro y el montaje del sonido. Cambiaron las infraestructuras y se transformó la experiencia del espectador.

Con la banda sonora –conformada por palabras, efectos, atmósferas, música y silencio– el control emocional adquirió una precisión inédita. El montaje incorporó un nuevo instrumental expresivo que ampliaba las posibilidades de significación. No hubo vuelta atrás. Incluso cineastas que han optado por películas prácticamente “no habladas”, como Jacques Tati, Michel Hazanavicius o Pablo Berger, han hecho un uso extraordinariamente creativo del sonido.

Desde entonces, la cuestión no ha sido si el sonido es importante, sino cómo se integra en la construcción del sentido.

‘Sorda’ y la quiebra del punto de escucha

Sorda, escrita y dirigida por Eva Libertad y protagonizada por Miriam Garlo y Álvaro Cervantes, se estrenó en la sección Panorama de la Berlinale en febrero de 2025. La protagonista del film es Ángela, una mujer sorda que afronta la conmoción vital de la maternidad junto a su pareja oyente, Héctor. Con este punto de partida, la percepción sonora se sitúa en el centro de la experiencia.

Ángela nos coloca en la posición de quien debe “escuchar con la mirada”. En su rostro percibimos la dificultad de seguir el ritmo comunicativo de las personas oyentes. La secuencia del parto, con mucha gente hablando a la vez incluso con mascarilla, adquiere una intensidad particular. Igualmente, la de la sobremesa con los compañeros de trabajo de Héctor resulta exasperante. La lectura labial no basta; los audífonos le generan malestar. En los entornos oyentes, el personaje encarna una fricción constante, bien por sobreprotección o bien por una inconsciente falta de consideración.

A lo largo de la primera mitad, la película apela a la empatía del espectador, dirigiendo su mirada hacia situaciones que evidencian la entrañable complicidad de los protagonistas y las actitudes de empoderamiento de Ángela.

Sin embargo, las sensaciones de seguridad de la protagonista se van deteriorando y en el tramo final se produce una ruptura decisiva: se quiebra el “punto de escucha”, utilizando el término del teórico Michel Chion. El espectador es situado abruptamente en la perspectiva auditiva de Ángela. La operación desestabiliza la narración y convierte el silencio en experiencia física. No se trata de una mera ausencia de sonido, sino de un desplazamiento perceptivo que conduce al espectador oyente a una experiencia sensorial que lo vuelve a conectar con Ángela.

La decisión es arriesgada porque altera la comodidad del relato y expone al espectador a una percepción que le es extraña. El sonido –o su supresión– se convierte así en herramienta ética además de estética.

‘Sirāt’: un (alta)voz clama en el desierto

Sirāt, dirigida por Oliver Laxe a partir de un guion coescrito con Santiago Fillol, se estrenó en la Selección Oficial del Festival de Cannes en mayo de 2025. En su recorrido por el desierto, la película reúne a un grupo de raveros y a un padre que, acompañado por su hijo pequeño, busca a su hija. El destino común es una rave perdida entre Marruecos y Argelia. A medida que avanzan, los vehículos, con sus pasajeros, van quedando a la deriva.

En este trayecto exterior e interior, el sonido construye el espacio y la historia tanto como la imagen. En puntos decisivos de la trama, como el momento en el que un grupo de vehículos decide escapar de la escolta militar, la realidad suena en su crudeza y simplicidad. Los ruidos de motores, las bocinas y la fricción de los neumáticos sobre los caminos pedregosos ofrecen un espectáculo épico junto a las imágenes de los camiones a la carrera envueltos por una nube de arena.

Además, el minucioso diseño de sonido de la película entrelaza de forma orgánica esos sonidos ásperos de un entorno hostil con la música trance y drone creada por Kangding Ray. En el inicio del film, los altavoces abren la puerta a la música techno y nos hacen compartir de forma explícita el trance de los que participan en la rave. Desde ese momento, los altavoces acompañan a los protagonistas en su viaje y contribuyen a que la presencia de la música fluya entre lo diegético (que sucede dentro de la película) y lo extradiegético (que solo ocurre para los espectadores) hasta el desenlace.

Es lo que sucede en momentos tan fascinantes como el que nos hace transitar entre las sensaciones místicas de los fieles musulmanes que giran alrededor de la Kaaba (en La Meca) y los camiones rodando por el desierto mientras aparece sobreimpreso el título de la película alrededor del minuto 29.

La experiencia sonora de Sirat, por tanto, articula intensas sensaciones físicas, con emociones viscerales y momentos de conmoción, contribuyendo decisivamente a convertir el viaje en experiencia mística y trascendental.

El cine desde la escucha

Sorda y Sirāt colocan la sensibilidad auditiva en el centro de la experiencia cinematográfica. En ambos casos, el dispositivo sonoro forma parte del relato y se manifiesta de manera explícita, convirtiéndose en una herramienta esencial para que cada película alcance sus objetivos.

En Sorda, se trata de que el espectador reconozca otras formas de conocer el mundo y contribuya a ampliar –y hacer más inclusivo– nuestro ecosistema comunicativo.

En Sirāt, el sonido nos hace participar sensorial y espiritualmente del viaje de los personajes. Los ritmos repetitivos de la música se funden con la realidad y generan una atmósfera envolvente que, como respuesta al impacto emocional de los sucesos, invita a una calmada introspección.


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The Conversation

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

ref. Más allá de la mirada: ‘Sorda’, ‘Sirāt’ y el poder del sonido cinematográfico – https://theconversation.com/mas-alla-de-la-mirada-sorda-sirat-y-el-poder-del-sonido-cinematografico-275985

Self-control is a strength, but being too good at discipline can backfire

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Christy Zhou Koval, Professor, Smith School of Business, Queen’s University, Ontario

Self-control has long been regarded as one of the strongest predictors of success. Most of us can picture that colleague who never misses a deadline, volunteers for extra projects and keeps everything running smoothly.

Research shows individuals who can resist short-term temptations in pursuit of long-term goals tend to fare better across nearly every aspect of life.

As a researcher who has spent years studying workplace dynamics, I set out to examine what happens to these highly disciplined individuals. What I found was surprising: the very trait that makes them valuable — their high levels of self-control — can also come with hidden costs.

Self-control as a social signal

My colleagues and I conducted six studies examining how people treat others based on their perceived self-control. We defined perceived self-control as a person’s beliefs about someone else’s level of self-control, such as resisting temptations, staying focused and persisting in the pursuit of goals.

Across our studies, self-control functioned as a powerful social signal.

In one study, participants read about a student who either resisted the temptation to purchase music online (demonstrating self-control) or gave in to it, then imagined working with this student on a group project. Participants expected substantially higher performance from the student who had demonstrated self-control, even though resisting an impulse to buy music had nothing to do with academic ability.

We replicated this pattern in a workplace context. Participants read about an employee who either stuck to a savings goal or struggled with it. Even though saving money has nothing to do with job performance, participants expected the self-controlled employee to have an accuracy rate roughly 15 per cent higher than the employee who showed less self-control.

In another experiment, we asked people to delegate proofreading work among student volunteers. Participants consistently assigned about 30 per cent more essays to volunteers they believed had high self-control, compared to those with moderate or low self-control, even when all volunteers were described as academically qualified.

The hidden costs of high self-control

A particularly revealing set of findings suggests that observers typically underestimate the cost of self-control.

In one study, we asked participants to complete a demanding typing task requiring a high degree of self-control. Observers who were told that someone had high self-control estimated the task required less effort. But those actually doing the work found it equally draining regardless of their self-control levels. This perceptual gap is problematic because it demonstrates that exerting self-control is physically costly.

Recent research shows people will pay money to avoid having to exercise self-control. In experiments where dieters could pay to remove tempting food from their presence, most did; and they paid more when stressed or when temptation was stronger.

High self-control individuals are doing more cognitively demanding work than their peers. They are exercising self-control more frequently. And because they do it well, observers don’t see the effort required. Research suggests that people with high self-control are perceived as more robot-like, as if their discipline means they don’t struggle like everyone else.

In one of our studies using 360-degree feedback data, we analyzed archival survey data collected from MBA students and their coworkers and supervisors.

Employees who were higher in self-control reported making more personal sacrifices and feeling more burdened by coworkers’ reliance. Their colleagues, however, did not recognize this burden. While they acknowledged the sacrifices these individuals made, they did not perceive the strain they were under.

The spillover into home life

The more capable you seem, the more you’re asked to carry. For high self-control individuals, that reputation can become a fast track to burnout in the office and at home.

In an experiment with romantic couples, participants with high self-control reported feeling more burdened by their partners’ reliance on them. This sense of burden reduced their overall relationship satisfaction.

When people high in self-control are overwhelmed at home because partners assume they can handle everything, that exhaustion can carry over into work. Similarly, when high self-control individuals are overburdened at work, it can diminish their energy and presence in their personal relationships.

This creates a vicious cycle in which highly self-controlled individuals are asked to do more at both work and at home, and the cumulative demands can result in burnout.

Burnout is a widespread issue in the workplace. A Deloitte survey found that 77 per cent of professionals have experienced burnout at their current job.

Breaking the cycle

Our findings revealed a problematic cycle: the more self-control individuals were perceived to have, the more others expected of them and the more responsibility they were assigned.

For people with high self-control, our findings underscore the importance of setting boundaries in the workplace. Saying yes to everything is unsustainable. Because disciplined employees often make demanding tasks appear effortless, colleagues and loved ones may underestimate how much they are asking of them.

For managers, our findings suggest the importance of distributing responsibilities fairly and checking in with employees about workload. Managers should ask explicitly about their employees’ capacity rather than inferring it from past performance.

Self-control remains one of the most valuable traits a person can have. But when we assume it comes effortlessly to those who demonstrate it, we risk burning out the people we depend on most. Acknowledging the hidden burden is necessary if we want capable people to thrive.

The Conversation

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

ref. Self-control is a strength, but being too good at discipline can backfire – https://theconversation.com/self-control-is-a-strength-but-being-too-good-at-discipline-can-backfire-275634

How Canada-Cuba relations must navigate the dangers of the U.S. embargo

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Luiz Leomil, PhD candidate, Political Science, Carleton University

The United States government recently announced it will allow companies to resell Venezuelan oil to Cuba amid a severe fuel shortage on the island. Earlier this year, the U.S. cut off oil shipments to Cuba from its main supplier, Venezuela, after American forces abducted that country’s president.

Cuba’s ambassador to Canada, Rodrigo Malmierca Diaz, recently told Canadian MPs on the House foreign affairs committee that the U.S. was “suffocating an entire people.” He was referring to the decades-long American embargo against Cuba, which has become even more severe in recent weeks.

In his remarks, Diaz also urged Canada to follow through on a promised aid package to Cuba. Canadian officials have committed to sending an additional $8 million, which will be channelled through international aid organizations operating in Cuba.

This represents a modest and indirect commitment, especially in comparison with the initiatives undertaken by other countries. Mexico has sent more than 2,000 tons of direct humanitarian aid while continuing diplomatic talks on resuming oil supplies, and other countries in the Global South are reportedly preparing similar, more tangible responses.

In January, Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney delivered a widely praised address in Davos, Switzerland, that many saw as an apt diagnosis of the failings of the U.S.-led “rules-based international order.” In it, he urged middle powers such as Canada to act with greater honesty and consistency, applying the same standards to allies and rivals so that states can co-exist in an international order that actually functions as advertised.

The Davos speech set high expectations. These are now, however, fading as Carney’s government wavers in sending robust aid to the people of Cuba and in denouncing the most recent unlawful coercive measures imposed by the U.S.

Explaining restraint

Canada has crafted a longstanding image as one of the largest humanitarian contributors in the world. It also has historical and economic ties with Cuba. Canada was one of the few American allies to maintain diplomatic relations with Cuba following the 1959 revolution that overthrew the U.S.-backed regime.

Cuba is Canada’s top market in the Caribbean, and Canada is the Cuba’s largest source of tourists as well as its second-largest source of direct investment. Canada is also among the overwhelming majority of United Nations member states that regularly vote in support of resolutions condemning the U.S. blockade.

However, three factors help explain the gap between the Canadian government’s rhetoric and its actions.

First, geopolitical constraints are significant. Like other middle powers, Canada’s freedom to act in open defiance of the U.S. is tightly limited. Canada’s fundamental economic and security interests are reliant on the U.S., and this is unlikely to change anytime soon.

Canada is open to a high risk of American retaliation if it chooses to aid Cuba. Such risk is even more heightened under the Trump government, which has demonstrated a willingness to use coercive measures against Canada.




Read more:
3 ways Canada can navigate an increasingly erratic and belligerent United States


Second, domestic politics shape foreign-policy choices. Contrary to simplified assumptions in classical international relations theory, state behaviour is not determined only by systemic incentives but also by domestic constituencies and how important particular issues are to segments of the population.

In Canada today, there is no broad public movement demanding robust government aid to Cuba. By contrast, there are vocal constituencies mobilized in support of Ukraine that keep assistance to that country politically salient and prioritized.

Third, officials in Global Affairs Canada have long favoured taking what they regard as a pragmatic approach toward Cuba. That posture helps explain Canada’s reluctance to provide direct, high-profile assistance during acute shortages or crises.

Canada did not intervene during Cuba’s 2024 blackout crisis, for example. On the other hand, the same approach has also led Canada to be less critical of political issues in Cuba, unlike its firmer stance toward the Venezuelan or Nicaraguan governments.

This approach has generally allowed Canada to preserve a baseline level of diplomatic engagement and safeguard economic and strategic interests. In recent years, this posture has become partly institutionalized within Global Affairs Canada and is regarded as the most workable and sustainable policy line.

Aid by proxy, unfulfilled commitments

In recent years, Canada has preferred to send assistance to Cuba through international aid organizations, but these efforts are unlikely to be sustainable given the scale of the humanitarian needs the country may face.

It remains unclear whether Canada will adopt a more robust strategy, departing from this established approach, to support Cubans. While facing their own constraints, it’s more likely that leadership in countries from the Global South, including Mexico, China and Brazil, will take action.

The outcome is twofold. Not only is the Canadian government failing to live up to a humanitarian image it has promoted on the world stage, but the international community also applauded a Davos speech that was both conflicting and somewhat disingenuous.

At times in his speech, Carney was realistic and incisive, exposing the weaknesses in the United States-led rules-based order. At key moments, however, Carney suggested that Canada still supported those rules and was willing to defend them through a more honest and equitable approach. Here, the tension between diagnosis and prescription was never resolved.

When it comes to the U.S. blockade of Cuba, Canada’s options are widely perceived as limited, and the country is seen as being forced to “go along to get along,” as Carney said in Davos. However, the blockade also presents Canada with an opportunity to showcase how middle powers can chart their own course.

Carney also said middle powers have the “the capacity to stop pretending, to name reality, to build our strength at home and to act together.” If Canada continues to equivocate on Cuba, Carney’s speech will come to reflect a familiar pattern in Canadian foreign policy: rhetorical candour about global inequities combined with reluctance to challenge them.

The Conversation

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

ref. How Canada-Cuba relations must navigate the dangers of the U.S. embargo – https://theconversation.com/how-canada-cuba-relations-must-navigate-the-dangers-of-the-u-s-embargo-276875

What the Jeffrey Epstein files reveal about how elites trade toxic gifts and favours

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Hugh Gusterson, Professor of Anthropology & Public Policy, University of British Columbia

Following horrifying revelations about Jeffrey Epstein’s systematic sexual assaults and trafficking of underage girls, the United States Department of Justice has been forced to publicly release millions of the late sex offender’s emails and texts.

I am an anthropologist of elites who conducted field work among the secretive community of nuclear weapons scientists. The Epstein files opens a window into the even more closely guarded world of capitalism’s 0.1 per cent.

Anthropologists study people through what renowned American anthropologist Clifford Geertz called “deep hanging out” — mingling informally and taking notes on what we see. We call this “participant observation.”

People like Bill Gates and Elon Musk do not welcome anthropologists bearing notebooks. But the Epstein files, where the global elite are talking to each other in private — or so they thought — open a peephole into their world.




Read more:
Andrew’s arrest: will anything like this now happen in the US? Why hasn’t it so far?


And what do we find there?

On a mundane level, we can see how they spend sums of money most of us can only dream about.

For example, we learn that in 2011, billionaire Mortimer Zuckerman, owner of the New York Post and U.S. News and World Report, spent US$219,000 on his collection of horses, $50,000 on skiing and $86,000 to insure his private art collection.

But the Epstein files are most interesting for what they reveal about a web of gifts, favours and financial transactions that knit together what would otherwise be a disparate sprawl of bankers, developers, tech bros, media personalities and high-profile academics.

A web of gifts and favours

A century ago, French anthropologist Marcel Mauss argued in The Gift that, across cultures, gifts are a way to create relationships of solidarity and obligation.

“No gift is given but in the expectation of a return,” he wrote.

This is evident in Epstein’s relationship with Leon Black, at the time the billionaire CEO of Apollo Global Management and chairman of the Museum of Modern Art in New York.

Epstein claimed his advice on Black’s finances saved the billionaire as much as $2 billion. In exchange, Black steered at least $158 million to Epstein and gave $10 million to one of Epstein’s charities, Gratitude America.

Black then made Epstein a trustee of the Debra and Leon Black Foundation, and Epstein invested in a startup where two of Black’s sons were on the board.

Epstein also helped Black manage his $2.8 billion art collection. He advised on selling individual works at a profit, getting paid by museums for loaning artworks and using art as collateral for bank loans.

Incidentally, one of the lessons I take from this is that billionaires do not look at art the way I do. I may buy (modestly priced) artworks because I like to look at them. Billionaires like Black and Zuckerman see them as investments.

Favours could also be exchanged, zig-zag style, among several people to create network solidarity. Epstein asked Leon Botstein, president of Bard College, to make sure Woody Allen’s daughter was admitted, while also gifting Allen $10,000 worth of shirts and luxury underwear.

Brad Karp, head of the Paul Weiss law firm, asked Epstein if he could intercede with Allen to get a job on his movie set for his son. In turn, Epstein asked Karp for help with a woman’s visa, and Karp steered $158 million from his client, the aforementioned Leon Black, to Epstein.

Collecting academics

When there is an asymmetry among the resources of two people, gifts lead to subordination, not reciprocity. Mauss referred to this as the “poison in the gift.”

We see this in Epstein’s transactions with academics whose research he bankrolled. He collected academics the way his billionaire friends collected artwork — Botstein, president of Bard; Larry Summers, president of Harvard; Lawrence Krauss, celebrity physicist; Dan Ariely, organizational psychologist; and the evolutionary psychologists and biologists Steven Pinker, Robert Trivers, Stephen Kosslyn, Martin Nowak, Joscha Bach and Nathan Wolfe to name a few.

Epstein was drawn to these academics because of his interest in eugenics, which he needed them to legitimize. He thought Black people were intellectually inferior and wondered if they could be improved through genetic modification. In a typo-ridden message, he texted German cognitive scientist Bach:

“Maybe climate change is a good way of dealing with overpopulation.. The earths forest fire… too many people, so many mass executions of the elderly and infirm make sense… if the brain discards unused neurons, why shold society keep their equivalent.”

And he talked about creating new superhumans by seeding batches of women with his own sperm.

After spending days reading Epstein’s messages to his associates, it reveals something essential about the contemptuous way they view the rest of the world.

One of them, lawyer Kathryn Ruemmler, texted Epstein that she would “get gas at a rest stop on the New Jersey Turnpike, will observe all of the people there who are at least 100 pounds overweight … and will then decide that I am not eating another bite of food for the rest of my life out of fear that I will end up like one of these people.”

Hopefully, most of the world is not like them.

The Conversation

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

ref. What the Jeffrey Epstein files reveal about how elites trade toxic gifts and favours – https://theconversation.com/what-the-jeffrey-epstein-files-reveal-about-how-elites-trade-toxic-gifts-and-favours-275727

Why media were able to report the identities of Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor and Peter Mandelson as they were arrested

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Polly Rippon, University Teacher in Journalism, University of Sheffield

When someone is arrested and under police investigation, we usually don’t know their names. Police reveal only their gender, age and the crime for which they are under suspicion, and the media reports it.

The arrests of Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor and Peter Mandelson were a striking exception to this practice. When the police said they had “arrested a man in his sixties from Norfolk” on February 19, newspapers widely reported that it was the former prince. The image of him in the back of a car after questioning featured on nearly every front page the following day.

Days later, Mandelson was arrested at his London home. Again, police said simply they “arrested a 72-year-old man”, and the media confirmed it was the former US ambassador.

The police investigations into both men, on suspicion of misconduct in public office, were prompted by US officials’ release of a tranche of emails from the Epstein files. Both men are suspected to have passed sensitive information to the paedophile financier while serving in official positions. Both deny any wrongdoing.

Why was the media allowed to report their names?

Privacy law in the UK is enshrined in the European convention on human rights. The ECHR bans intrusion into a person’s private life, which means citizens under investigation, or arrested by the police, have “a reasonable expectation of privacy”. This is to protect those who are arrested or investigated but never charged with a criminal offence.

Legally and ethically, journalists shouldn’t breach the privacy of people under investigation. However, the public interest exceptions in the Independent Press Standards Organisation editor’s code and the Ofcom code for broadcasting allow for breaches when reporting on matters of public interest – this includes detecting and exposing crime or wrongdoing, particularly when the suspect in question is someone in a position of power. Your average theft by an unknown civilian doesn’t count.

In the cases of Mountbatten-Windsor and Mandelson, there is clearly a strong public interest. One is a member of the royal family, the other a senior politician. Both held positions of power and influence, and were longtime friends of one of the most notorious convicted sex offenders in history.

In such a case, a media organisation being sued for breach of privacy may have a defence if it can demonstrate there was a strong public interest, and it reported the information because it was deemed to be of high value to society. The ECHR also protects public interest journalism.

Other high profile people named by the media at the point of arrest due to exceptional public interest include BBC newsreader Huw Edwards, who pleaded guilty to possessing indecent images of children. Also named by the media on arrest was presenter Russell Brand. He is currently awaiting trial on sexual offence charges, which he denies.

Once charged with criminal offences, suspects become defendants, appear in court and can be officially named.

The College of Policing has just released new guidelines around police communications with the media. The guidance in relation to naming of suspects at arrest protects their right to privacy.

It says the names of those arrested or suspected of a crime should only be released “in exceptional circumstances, where there is a legitimate policing purpose to do so”, for example when a dangerous suspect is on the run.

How Cliff Richard shaped today’s privacy laws

Prior to 2013, police did release the names of those being investigated, or would at least confirm names to the media if asked. But a change in privacy law came after the police investigation into singer Cliff Richard, which toughened up the legislation.

In 2014, South Yorkshire Police raided Richard’s Berkshire home while he was out of the country. The star was unaware he was being investigated on suspicion of historical sexual assault allegations (dropped in 2016 due to lack of evidence). Richard only discovered the police probe because the raid was broadcast live on BBC News, with helicopter shots and a running commentary.

He successfully sued the BBC for £2 million for breach of privacy, telling a judge that the BBC identifying him had smeared his name and reputation around the world.

This case marked a major shift, establishing that suspects have a “reasonable expectation of privacy” before being charged with a criminal offence.

This was reinforced in the case of Alaedeen Sicri a 26-year-old Libyan arrested by police after the Manchester Arena bombings in 2017. He was later released without charge following the attack, which killed 22 people.

Sicri was not identified by Greater Manchester Police, but MailOnline published his name, images and other details after his arrest. He successfully sued Associated Newspapers Ltd and was awarded £83,000 in damages.

In the 2016 case of ZXC v Bloomberg, a businessman successfully sued Bloomberg for breach of privacy because it reported he was under investigation by a UK law enforcement agency. This was something the financial news organisation discovered by reading a confidential letter sent to him. The judge ordered his identity should not be published and awarded him £25,000 in damages. The ruling was upheld by the Court of Appeal and the Supreme Court.

These cases all demonstrate the delicate balancing exercise between the rights of the media to report on an ongoing police investigation and an individual’s right to privacy.

A democracy needs both privacy and public interest reporting. Privacy is the shield that allows people to lead their lives without unwanted interference. But public interest journalism is the spotlight that prevents the rich and famous from abusing their power and holds them to account.

The Conversation

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

ref. Why media were able to report the identities of Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor and Peter Mandelson as they were arrested – https://theconversation.com/why-media-were-able-to-report-the-identities-of-andrew-mountbatten-windsor-and-peter-mandelson-as-they-were-arrested-276916

Reporting the names of arrested people is against the law – why the Andrew and Mandelson cases were exceptions

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Polly Rippon, University Teacher in Journalism, University of Sheffield

When someone is arrested and under police investigation, we usually don’t know their names. Police reveal only their gender, age and the crime for which they are under suspicion, and the media reports it.

The arrests of Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor and Peter Mandelson were a striking exception to this practice. When the police said they had “arrested a man in his sixties from Norfolk” on February 19, newspapers widely reported that it was the former prince. The image of him in the back of a car after questioning featured on nearly every front page the following day.

Days later, Mandelson was arrested at his London home. Again, police said simply they “arrested a 72-year-old man”, and the media confirmed it was the former US ambassador.

The police investigations into both men, on suspicion of misconduct in public office, were prompted by US officials’ release of a tranche of emails from the Epstein files. Both men are suspected to have passed sensitive information to the paedophile financier while serving in official positions. Both deny any wrongdoing.

Why was the media allowed to report their names?

Privacy law in the UK is enshrined in the European convention on human rights. The ECHR bans intrusion into a person’s private life, which means citizens under investigation, or arrested by the police, have “a reasonable expectation of privacy”. This is to protect those who are arrested or investigated but never charged with a criminal offence.

Legally and ethically, journalists shouldn’t breach the privacy of people under investigation. However, the public interest exceptions in the Independent Press Standards Organisation editor’s code and the Ofcom code for broadcasting allow for breaches when reporting on matters of public interest – this includes detecting and exposing crime or wrongdoing, particularly when the suspect in question is someone in a position of power. Your average theft by an unknown civilian doesn’t count.

In the cases of Mountbatten-Windsor and Mandelson, there is clearly a strong public interest. One is a member of the royal family, the other a senior politician. Both held positions of power and influence, and were longtime friends of one of the most notorious convicted sex offenders in history.

In such a case, a media organisation being sued for breach of privacy may have a defence if it can demonstrate there was a strong public interest, and it reported the information because it was deemed to be of high value to society. The ECHR also protects public interest journalism.

Other high profile people named by the media at the point of arrest due to exceptional public interest include BBC newsreader Huw Edwards, who pleaded guilty to possessing indecent images of children. Also named by the media on arrest was presenter Russell Brand. He is currently awaiting trial on sexual offence charges, which he denies.

Once charged with criminal offences, suspects become defendants, appear in court and can be officially named.

The College of Policing has just released new guidelines around police communications with the media. The guidance in relation to naming of suspects at arrest protects their right to privacy.

It says the names of those arrested or suspected of a crime should only be released “in exceptional circumstances, where there is a legitimate policing purpose to do so”, for example when a dangerous suspect is on the run.

How Cliff Richard shaped today’s privacy laws

Prior to 2013, police did release the names of those being investigated, or would at least confirm names to the media if asked. But a change in privacy law came after the police investigation into singer Cliff Richard, which toughened up the legislation.

In 2014, South Yorkshire Police raided Richard’s Berkshire home while he was out of the country. The star was unaware he was being investigated on suspicion of historical sexual assault allegations (dropped in 2016 due to lack of evidence). Richard only discovered the police probe because the raid was broadcast live on BBC News, with helicopter shots and a running commentary.

He successfully sued the BBC for £2 million for breach of privacy, telling a judge that the BBC identifying him had smeared his name and reputation around the world.

This case marked a major shift, establishing that suspects have a “reasonable expectation of privacy” before being charged with a criminal offence.

This was reinforced in the case of Alaedeen Sicri a 26-year-old Libyan arrested by police after the Manchester Arena bombings in 2017. He was later released without charge following the attack, which killed 22 people.

Sicri was not identified by Greater Manchester Police, but MailOnline published his name, images and other details after his arrest. He successfully sued Associated Newspapers Ltd and was awarded £83,000 in damages.

In the 2016 case of ZXC v Bloomberg, a businessman successfully sued Bloomberg for breach of privacy because it reported he was under investigation by a UK law enforcement agency. This was something the financial news organisation discovered by reading a confidential letter sent to him. The judge ordered his identity should not be published and awarded him £25,000 in damages. The ruling was upheld by the Court of Appeal and the Supreme Court.

These cases all demonstrate the delicate balancing exercise between the rights of the media to report on an ongoing police investigation and an individual’s right to privacy.

A democracy needs both privacy and public interest reporting. Privacy is the shield that allows people to lead their lives without unwanted interference. But public interest journalism is the spotlight that prevents the rich and famous from abusing their power and holds them to account.

The Conversation

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

ref. Reporting the names of arrested people is against the law – why the Andrew and Mandelson cases were exceptions – https://theconversation.com/reporting-the-names-of-arrested-people-is-against-the-law-why-the-andrew-and-mandelson-cases-were-exceptions-276916

Will 2026 be another slugageddon?

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Christopher Terrell Nield, Lecturer, Chemistry and Forensic Science, Nottingham Trent University

Art_Pictures/Shutterstock

British gardeners and farmers may remember 2024 with a shudder – it was widely referred to as “the year of the slug”. Vast numbers of slimy slitherers chomped their way through raspberries, laid waste to lettuce and toppled tomato plants.

Directly sown crops were demolished, early carrots did not germinate and main crop potatoes were damaged.

Will we see a repeat of the slugageddon in 2026?

Slugs are well suited to the UK’s damp, mild climate and have a wide diet, but only a few species feed on live plants. Slugs and snails are actually an important part of the decomposition cycle, meaning they help the composting process. Apart from those that eat your plants, they can be considered a gardener’s friend, as long as their populations remain stable.

Outbreaks of insect pests, for example, occur when checks on population growth such as predators, competitors or environmental constraints are removed.

So, what conditions favour growth of slug populations and how well did 2024 match these?

Slugs need moist conditions as they have little or no shell and their protective mucus is water based. Slugs can reproduce throughout the year, but do so mostly in spring and in autumn. They can overwinter in the egg, juvenile or adult stage. To avoid frost and predators they seek dark, damp, insulated areas, such as underground, beneath pots or within compost heaps. Slugs are resilient and most survive the winter especially under mild conditions, but hard frosts will kill them.

If it’s mild, slug populations actually increase as early plant growth in late winter provides adults with additional energy to lay eggs. These eggs can hatch in ten days, but take up to 100 days if it’s cold. Over a typical one year life span a slug can lay up to 500 eggs.

And a warm wet spring or summer with frequent rain allows populations to disperse and grow.

Reduced predator numbers also benefit slugs, with many, such as hedgehogs, facing population declines. Toads are also in decline, as are birds such as thrushes.

Grey colour slug eating leaf.
Slug numbers can change dramatically year to year.
Fotoz by David G/Shutterstock

Weather matters

The year 2024 had conditions ideal for slug breeding; a mild winter, high moisture levels in spring and summer, and no long dry spells.

According to the Met Office, 2024 climate statistics showed the UK is heading outside the “envelope of historical weather observations”. The year 2024 was the fourth warmest year since 1884. Overall it was a little wetter than average, but central and southern England had 25-30% more rain than normal, making the area both warm and damp.

In addition, 2023 had been the UK’s second warmest year, and wetter than average. This combination promoted slug population growth, setting the base for the 2024 increase.

In contrast, 2025 weather was less favourable for slugs as it varied from cold to extreme heat with little rainfall. Slug populations are disrupted by dry and unstable conditions. However, it is difficult to predict population trends when there is instability. For example, climate change is making it difficult to predict butterfly numbers.

In 2025, slug numbers declined from the 2024 peak. However, there were issues with slugs decimating some field crops and returning rainfall produced an upturn in slug numbers in autumn 2025.

Following a cold snap before Christmas 2025, UK winter was mild and very wet, with persistent cloud cover trapped by high pressure over Scandinavia. Some areas had 50% of annual rainfall in the first six weeks of 2026, with widespread flooding. When this pattern shifted, cold arctic air entered the UK. Spring could be chilly as March frequently exceeds December for snowfall and there can be cold snaps in April.

Thus, the picture for 2026 is complicated. Although flooding can kill overwintering eggs and adults, a mild wet winter will have reduced slug mortality. It may also affect slug predators. Beetles used for slug control in conservation agriculture can survive short term inundation but their larvae in saturated soil probably won’t. Flooding also creates lots of ready food for slugs from plants that have died in the water, a potential slug fest as it dries in spring.

With a global temperature above 1.4°C, compared to pre-industrial levels, the Met Office predicts a warm 2026. In addition, the UK government’s Environment Agency predicted a drought in 2026, before the winter’s heavy rainfall.

Overall the conditions point towards increased slug populations but probably not as bad as 2024.




Read more:
In defence of slugs


So, what can we do to help our gardens survive a possible 2026 slugageddon?

You can water in parasitic nematodes. These only attack slugs and snails, where they transmit a lethal bacterial infection. It’s a wildlife-friendly option, if a bit expensive.

Put down bark, cat litter, sand or grit. Copper tape may be effective, but physical barriers don’t always work. Smear the edge of pots with petroleum jelly. Creating habitats for slug predators will boost your defences too.

Slugs are nocturnal so water plants in the morning so the soil can dry before they become active. Remove slugs under torchlight, or set pitfall traps. Grow slug-resistant plants such as such as sedum, rosemary and geraniums.

It seems counter intuitive to attract slugs, but compost heaps can redirect them from vulnerable plants. Ferric phosphate slug pellets are effective, but must be targeted around your most vulnerable plants as they can harm wildlife that eats slugs.

Whatever methods you use, remember that most slugs are our friends and an important part of the ecosystem.


Do the seasons feel increasingly weird to you? You’re not alone. Climate change is distorting nature’s calendar, causing plants to flower early and animals to emerge at the wrong time.

This article is part of a series, Wild Seasons, on how the seasons are changing – and what they may eventually look like.


The Conversation

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

ref. Will 2026 be another slugageddon? – https://theconversation.com/will-2026-be-another-slugageddon-275614

The beginner’s guide to video games – where to start if you don’t think you like games

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Tom Garner, Senior Lecturer of Human Computer Interaction, Department of Computing, Sheffield Hallam University

Rose Tamani/Shutterstock

In 1997 I was 13 and decidedly not a gamer. I liked film, music and Stephen King novels – but I had been “blessed” with two parents who believed video games rotted your brain. They did, however, invest in a home PC, seemingly under the impression I would be drawn only to its educational functions.

Their faith was misplaced when I discovered Blade Runner (1997), an adventure game based on the 1982 Ridley Scott film that I had not seen. Before, I had understood games as “collect coins, jump on enemies, avoid spikes, get a high score”. Now I was a detective conducting something called a Voight-Kampf test. I was scouring crime scenes, analysing CCTV footage and piecing together the narrative of a crime that kept escalating the more I proceeded.

By the end I was grappling with whether to turn my character’s back on every part of their life, whether their memories were their own, whether they were even human and the broader question of how a person can act morally when they cannot be certain of themselves – or their perception of reality.

This was my entry point into a lifelong love of video games. I’m still enamoured with their ability to directly involve you in the story, to challenge your decision making and values, knowing the consequences would play out in front of you, affecting situations and characters you had become emotionally invested in.

There is growing evidence that factors such as burnout from passive streaming culture are increasingly encouraging people towards video games – and yet many people still feel excluded from them. If you’re among that group, you may assume games are all too violent, too juvenile, too technical, or simply “not for you”.

The great shame here is that games tell deep and immersive stories and present beautiful worlds in ways that are wholly unique to the medium. If you don’t engage with games, you’re increasingly missing out on meaningful new stories and aesthetics.

Here are three different kinds of potential player and the video games I would prescribe for each one.

1. The aesthetic wanderer

Potential player one is an “aesthetic wanderer”. If this is you, you love music, immersive visual arts, installations and exhibitions. You find yourself are drawn to places, whether urban or nature, that evoke mood and feeling.

The trailer for Firewatch.

Aesthetic wanderers are driven by the sensory pleasure of atmosphere and the personal meaning they extract from interpretation of art and environment. They likely perceive video games to be loud, time-pressured, visually oppressive and goal-obsessed.

If this sounds familiar, then your route to video games should be through titles that prioritise exploration, the autonomy of self-pacing and a beautiful – or possibly disgusting – world. So long as it’s evocative.

Try playing Journey (2012), a wordless traversal across a desolate yet beautiful landscape, with flowing character movement that blends interaction with music, sound and atmosphere – offering an immersive, resonating and contemplative experience.

Alternatively, Firewatch (2016) offers a slowly unfolding mystery wrapped in a summer trek in the Wyoming wilderness, emphasising reflective presence in a lonely landscape and a narrative revealed naturally through a dialogue.

A more involved, but equally beautiful classic is Shadow of the Colossus (2018) – an at times deafeningly silent world in which you are drawn into conflict with vast, awe-inspiring creatures and are confronted with moral unease in your actions.

2. The pre-digital native

Potential player two is the pre-digital native. If you’re in this camp then you grew up before video games became established. You may be intrigued by games but believe you have missed the proverbial boat. You may view games as juvenile, a distraction from “genuine” pursuits, or even morally questionable.

The trailer for Return of the Obra Dinn.

Your love of cinema and literature is based in story over spectacle, and you also appreciate opportunities for growth and personal reflection. You may also be concerned that video games present a risk to your perceived competence, not in a cognitive or cultural sense, but in the fiddly physical controls that may require precise and immediate motor actions.

If you fit into this player type, seek out games that emphasise cognitive capability over motor-skills, with critical thinking over fast reactions. You could consider contemporary detective games, such as Her Story (2015) and Return of the Obra Dinn (2018).

3. The cultural sceptic

Lastly, potential player three is the cultural sceptic. If you’re in this group, you might believe video games were simply not made for you. You may observe a deluge of games targeting young men, with male protagonists, aggressive competition-based mechanics and even hostile exclusionary communities. You are interested, but feel the need to culturally protect yourself.

The cultural sceptic values autonomy and growth through new experiences. You may especially value relatedness, seeking credible characters that you can connect with. You are drawn to opportunities to collaborate, and you particularly enjoy art as a shared experience.

The trailer for Split Fiction.

If this sounds like you, consider games that feature cooperative multiplayer experiences like It Takes Two (2021), a puzzle platformer about a couple on the brink of divorce who find themselves trapped in the bodies of two of their daughter’s dolls. Here narrative and gameplay are inseparable as the game explores matters of relationship breakdown but also reconciliation and perspective through cooperation.

You may also find yourself drawn to games built around themes that fall outside of the “guns, gore and muscles” trope, such as Gone Home (2013), a first-person exploration game in which the player-protagonist uncovers journals to follow her sister’s journey to understanding and accepting her sexuality.

Alterntively, What Remains of Edith Finch (2017), a collection of interwoven stories in which the player inhabits the final moments of Finch’s relatives in a way that demonstrates how interactive experiences can explore a genuinely wide range of themes, and can tell stories in ways that would be impossible in any other medium.

If explored openly, there is no demographic barrier to all video games. A few months ago, I introduced my partner to the farming simulation game Stardew Valley (2016), a game I have been playing for about five years. She enjoys ballet, romantic fantasy novels and Sabrina Carpenter. She hadn’t played a game since the mid-90s. Her farm is now better than mine. A lot better.

For you, my potential player, this is an invitation and not a lecture. I’d love you to take the opportunity to engage with video games on your own terms, to challenge your initial assumptions and perhaps discover a new cultural love.


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The Conversation

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

ref. The beginner’s guide to video games – where to start if you don’t think you like games – https://theconversation.com/the-beginners-guide-to-video-games-where-to-start-if-you-dont-think-you-like-games-273737