Category: MIL-OSI

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Katie Pruszynski, PhD Candidate, Department of Politics and International Relations, University of Sheffield

The death of Jeffrey Epstein in 2019 was never going to be the end of his menacing presence in the American political orbit. More than six years later, the Department of Justice (DoJ) has now released millions of the “Epstein files” to a hungry and impatient audience.

But the DoJ’s conduct has set new questions in motion, this time about its own agenda in protecting powerful figures, including – according to his political opponents – the US president, Donald Trump. The unfolding saga reveals unsettling truths about elite power networks and our own ability to critically assess information in an era of extreme overload.

The Epstein Files Transparency Act compelled the DoJ to release the files to the fullest extent possible. The content is harrowing and shocking. But there are also a number of troubling implications in the DoJ’s actions in the build up to, and since, the release of the files, as well as in the manner in which sensitive information was handled.

Despite a statutory deadline of December 19 2025, the DoJ only began drip-feeding documents on the deadline day itself, drawing widespread criticism. And while an initial DoJ report identified 6 million “responsive” documents, the deputy attorney-general, Todd Blanche, claimed on January 30 that the cumulative release of 3.5 million documents met all legal obligations. This leaves 2.5 million documents effectively missing.

There were, predictably, accusations of a cover up. At the very least, in stalling the release of the files and then turning a trickle into a flood, the DoJ could reasonably be accused of malicious compliance; trying to bury damaging needles in mountainous haystacks.

Beyond the missing files, congressional oversight has been throttled. Secure “reading rooms” were established where sitting members, without staff, were able to review unredacted pages taking only hand-written notes. Quite the task with 3.5 million documents.

Most disturbingly, the DoJ’s redaction process appeared inverted. According to Democrat lawmaker, Ro Khanna, who has scrutinised unredacted versions of the files, high-profile names were shielded, yet the full names and contact details of 43 victims were published alongside graphic photographs of young women and potentially minors.

The DoJ acknowledged these “mistakes”, but in combination with the delayed release and the missing files, alarm bells are ringing that this, too, forms part of a more sinister strategy to divert attention away from the content of the files themselves through chaos.

Gambling on the attention economy

The DoJ appears to be making two significant gambles on the attention economy of the digital age. The first relies on information and crisis exhaustion. Releasing a massive data dump creates a triage and narrative challenge that few journalists or activists can meet.

This is not necessarily new: the practice, known in the US as “backing up the truck”, which involved the government when asked to divulge sensitive public documents, releasing a truckload of documents in which they hid the sensitive ones, is a time-honoured and devious tactic well known to journalists.

In a world where attention is a commodity, the Trump administration appears to be betting that the public simply lacks the bandwidth to process the Epstein revelations amid a sea of manufactured and organic distractions.

Consider the current pulls on even a mildly engaged citizen in the US. Since the start of the year, ICE and other immigration agencies have escalated their activities in US cities, most notably in Minnesota where they have killed two Americans without, critics say, probable cause or likely sanction.

The US captured the leader of Venezuela in a legally dubious military raid, and implied other Latin American leaders could face the same demise. Trump ramped up his threats to annex Greenland.

Meanwhile millions of Americans have seen their health insurance premiums soar as a result of Republicans declining to extend healthcare subsidies.

It is little wonder that there have been observations in US media outlets that the public response to the Epstein revelations has seemed muted in comparison to audiences in the UK and elsewhere. With “perma-crisis” as the baseline, the administration appears to be betting that public focus will be dragged away by the next trending issue.

The partisan shield

Americans are, in fact, responding to the revelations. And while there has been an unusually bipartisan horror at the content of the files, this issue, as with so many others, has served to entrench divisions and resentment towards the partisan “other”.

This is at the heart of the administration’s second gamble. Research demonstrates that increasingly, our partisan identity forms a crucial part of our whole social identity. In effect, who we support defines a large part of how we see ourselves in the world. So strong is the connection, that challenges to our partisan beliefs feel like an existential threat to who we are.

Confronted with such a threat, we are more likely to double down on those beliefs, even in the face of contradictory evidence. So much so, that in extreme cases, people are able to see any contrary views as evidence of a conspiracy against them, their peers and their leaders. Trump has long understood this hold he has over his base.

The Maga community produced the loudest calls for the Epstein files, believing they would expose a “deep state” paedophile ring involving the Clintons and Hollywood elites. Indeed, Bill Clinton is in the files, mentioned multiple times, although he denies any wrongdoing and there has been nothing published to suggest he has been involved in any.

But to maintain their cognitive consistency, supporters must convince themselves that while the files condemn their enemies, the more than 30,000 references to Donald Trump are part of a broad conspiracy to defenestrate their leader.

Looming on the horizon to focus minds are the 2026 midterm elections in November. Republicans and the Trump White House may be gambling once more on the attention economy having long since consigned Epstein to history. Democrats will have to fight to maintain focus on Trump’s behaviour both in the files and about the files while tackling the barrage of injustices that, in reality, feel much more relevant to Americans in their day-to-day lives.

The other names in the files, those of the victims, remain much further away from any kind of justice.

Katie Pruszynski 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. Epstein files: why the Trump administration is taking a big gamble by releasing millions of documents – https://theconversation.com/epstein-files-why-the-trump-administration-is-taking-a-big-gamble-by-releasing-millions-of-documents-275827

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Harold Lovell, Senior Lecturer, Glaciology, University of Portsmouth

It’s difficult to forget standing in front of a glacier that is advancing towards you, towering ice pillars constantly cracking as they inch forward. The motion is too slow to see in real time, but obvious from one day to the next.

One of us (Harold) experienced this during fieldwork in 2012 at Nathorstbreen on the Arctic archipelago of Svalbard, which was moving forwards more than 10 metres per day.

Encounters like this are rare. Most of the world’s glaciers are retreating rapidly as the climate warms, and thousands are likely to disappear altogether within the next few decades.

However, a small fraction of glaciers do the opposite, and repeatedly speed up and advance for months or years after a long period of stagnation and retreat. This is known as glacier surging, and it has long puzzled scientists.

It might be tempting to view advancing ice as an antidote to the gloomy picture of disappearing glaciers, but the polar opposite is true. Surges can accelerate ice loss, make glaciers more vulnerable to climate change, and create serious hazards for people living downstream of them.

We have just published a global study of over 3,000 surging glaciers to find out what’s causing them to move like this. Our work also summarises, for the first time, the hazards caused by these glaciers, and how surging is being affected by climate change.

Why some glaciers surge

During surges, glaciers accelerate from a slow crawl to tens of metres per day – sometimes within weeks. The fastest phase, when ice can flow at over 60 metres a day, typically lasts a year or more – although some glaciers have surged for up to 20 years. The return to low speeds and even stagnation can happen abruptly over days, or over several years.

Nathorstbreen dramatically advanced more than 15 kilometres in roughly a decade during its surge, which began in 2008 – transforming the entire landscape in a matter of years.

The onset of surging is thought to be controlled by changes beneath the glacier. In surge-type glaciers, water generated by melting ice does not immediately drain away, but gathers at the bottom of the glacier. This reduces friction between ice and the ground, making it easier for ice to slide faster.

When that water eventually drains, the glacier slows again. Some glaciers experience repeated surges separated by years or decades of low ice flow – but the exact timing of surges is hard to predict.

Global hotspots of surging ice

Our study shows that at least 3,000 glaciers have surged at some point. That’s only about 1% of all glaciers in the world, but they tend to be large, so represent about 16% of the global glacier area.

Notably, they are found in dense geographical groupings across the Arctic, the Himalayas and other high mountains in Asia, and the Andes – but are largely absent elsewhere. This is primarily controlled by the climate: surges do not generally happen where conditions are currently too warm, such as in the European Alps or mainland Scandinavia, or too cold and dry, such as Antarctica.

Other factors such as size and underlying geology are also important for determining which glaciers surge in a region and which do not.

Some of the hotspots are found in populated regions, where surging glaciers can become hazards. The advancing ice can overrun infrastructure and farmland, and block rivers to form dangerous lakes that can release devastating floods when the ice breaks. An unstable lake formed by a surge of Shisper Glacier in the Karakoram mountain range drained multiple times from 2019 to 2022, causing extensive damage to the Karakoram Highway, a key connection between Pakistan and China.

Fast-moving ice can cause deep cracks (crevasses) to form, affecting travel in regions such as Svalbard where glaciers provide highways between isolated human settlements. It also disrupts tourism and recreation activities, such as where climbers use glaciers to approach peaks. When glaciers surge into the sea, they release numerous icebergs in a short space of time that could present a risk to shipping and tourism.

Surging is changing as the climate warms

Climate warming is already reshaping how and when glaciers surge. In some regions, surges are becoming more frequent; in others, they are declining as glaciers thin and lose the mass needed to build towards a surge. Heavy rainfall, intense melt periods or other extreme weather have also been shown to trigger earlier-than-expected surges, and these factors may become more important in a warming climate.

Together, this paints a picture of the increasing unpredictability of glacier surges. Some regions might experience less surging as the world warms, while others might see an increase. It is feasible that glaciers that have never surged before may begin to, including in areas where there are no records of past surges, such as the fast-warming Antarctic peninsula.

Surging glaciers remind us that ice does not always respond to warming in simple and predictable ways. Understanding these exceptions, and managing the hazards they create, is critical in a rapidly changing world.

Harold Lovell receives funding from NERC.

Chris Stokes receives funding from the NERC.

– ref. Some glaciers can suddenly surge forward – with dangerous consequences – https://theconversation.com/some-glaciers-can-suddenly-surge-forward-with-dangerous-consequences-273976

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Ian Williams, Professor of Applied Environmental Science, University of Southampton

I grew up on the beaches of Pembrokeshire in south-west Wales. Visits to Tenby were my family’s summer ritual: sand between our toes, paddling in rockpools, strawberry syrup on ice cream.

But 30 years ago, I vividly remember walking along Tenby’s North Beach with my mother and grandmother. No crowds. No laughter. Just the hush of waves sliding over dark, tar‑smudged sand. The holiday postcards had gone grey.

At about 8pm on February 15 1996, the Sea Empress oil tanker missed her tug escort into port by minutes. The ship veered inside the mouth of Milford Haven and struck rocks near St Ann’s Head.

Over the next stormy week, it grounded and re‑grounded many times, creating more damage to the hull each time. About 72,000 tonnes of North Sea crude oil were spilled. This was Britain’s worst coastal oil disaster in a generation.

The fightback was messy. Weather worsened. Control systems to manage the spill were strained. Nine separate releases of oil stained the sea as wind and tide shoved a wounded tanker around the edges of the Pembrokeshire Coast national park.

Aircraft spread dispersants to try to break up the oil spill. Rough seas helped break oil into smaller droplets. This kept oil suspended in the water (not just floating on the surface), which can increase exposure and toxicity for sea and plant life, even as the visible surface layer declined.

At the same time, because the spilled oil contained a lot of relatively volatile petrol components and the weather was windy and the sea choppy, an estimated 35-45% evaporated in the first two days.

In all, 11,000-16,000 tonnes of water-in-oil emulsion are estimated to have reached the shore – far less than the 72,000-120,000 tonnes of emulsion that could have beached. But even so, more than 120 miles (190km) of coastline were oiled. Birds, shellfish, marine and coastal habitats and the local tourism industry all took a hammering.

The UK government’s Marine Accident Investigation Branch found the immediate cause was pilot error – compounded by weak training, poor use of leading marks to help the tanker’s navigation, and no agreed master–pilot plan.

Salvage overseen by the Marine Pollution Control Unit (part of the UK Coastguard Agency) unfolded amid a stormy week. Muddled control was an issue alongside insufficient tug power and limited expert knowledge of the tidal streams. When big ships are in trouble, authority must be clear and tugs must be strong.

What’s changed since the disaster?

A lot has improved since the Sea Empress disaster.

The line of command is now much more direct. The UK created a single, empowered decision-maker – the secretary of state’s representative – to cut through competing interests in a major maritime emergency. The role dates from 1999 and exists because of lessons from the Sea Empress.

There’s also a clearer response plan in place. The national contingency plan for marine pollution incidents sets out who does what from the first call to the last waste bag. It links government, ports, regulators and science advisers, and outlines how to quickly set up a joint response centre for a coordinated approach to complex incidents.

Prevention of oil spills is high on the agenda. The UK government has identified marine environmental high-risk areas, including Pembrokeshire, to warn where a mistake can become a catastrophe.

Ships have also evolved to reduce the risk of big spills like this happening again. After the 1990s, single‑hull tankers were phased out under an amendment to international and national laws. New tankers had to be double‑hulled – designed with two completely watertight layers of steel – to reduce the risk of oil spills as the result of an accident.

By the mid‑2010s, single‑hull tankers were effectively gone from mainstream trade – a quiet revolution that prevented countless spills.

But not everything moved forward in a positive way.

In the 2000s, the UK stationed powerful government‑funded tugs around the coast. But in 2011, this fleet was axed on cost grounds, with a limited Scottish provision later restored and extended. A 2020 government‑commissioned study acknowledged that commercial towage hasn’t filled every gap, and that some sea areas are still at high risk of an oil disaster.

Risk has shifted, not vanished. Milford Haven is now one of Europe’s key liquefied natural gas (LNG) gateways. The South Hook and Dragon terminals, opened in 2009, can together meet up to a quarter of UK gas demand on peak days. That keeps homes warm and industry running. It also concentrates critical energy infrastructure in the same magnificent but exposed seascape that the Sea Empress scarred.

Lessons learnt

Three aspects of the handling of this disaster still guide my thinking as an environmental scientist today.

Hitting the oil hard at sea – and early on – can make a big difference. With the Sea Empress’s cargo of light crude in winter, rapid evaporation and dispersant‑aided dilution reduced shoreline oiling dramatically. It is often better to keep oil off beaches than have to scrape it off later – but you need surveillance, and then aircraft and trained people to be ready immediately.

Coasts need to be cleaned in a methodical way, for as long as it takes. Buried oil re‑emerges. Heavy machinery can drive residues deeper if you rush. Quiet persistence beats flashy photo ops.

The government’s Sea Empress environmental evaluation programme found that, while many habitats recovered faster than feared, some wildlife communities – from limpets to cushion stars – needed continued protection.

Prevention always costs less than compensation. Fines, funds and court cases don’t restore trust or nature quickly. Investing upfront – in trained pilots, rehearsed joint command, powerful tugs in the right places, modern kit and transparent science – is cheaper than rebuilding a reputation for clean beaches, safe seafood and thriving wildlife. That was true in 1996. It is truer now.

Thirty years on, I still see Tenby’s empty beaches when they should have been busy. I can still picture the sad faces of Pembrokeshire’s people. Wales has deep ties to the sea: trade, holidays, food, fun.

With better ships, clearer command and smarter plans, the risk of major oil spills can be minimised. But complacency is a fair‑weather friend. LNG cargoes, bigger vessels, tighter budgets and busier coasts all raise the stakes. Anything can happen after dark in a gale, when radios crackle, information is scarce, and decisions must be made quickly.

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Ian Williams receives funding from UK Research Councils, including the Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council’s Impact Acceleration Account.

– ref. Three decades on from Wales’ biggest oil spill, how the Sea Empress disaster changed shipping – https://theconversation.com/three-decades-on-from-wales-biggest-oil-spill-how-the-sea-empress-disaster-changed-shipping-274882

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Benedict Carpenter van Barthold, Lecturer, School of Art & Design, Nottingham Trent University

The forthcoming Tate Modern retrospective, Frida: The Making of an Icon, promises to go beyond the canvas to explore the construction of an artistic legend. At a recent breakfast press-briefing at KOL, a Mexican restaurant in London, co-curator Tobias Ostrander framed the exhibition as a study in how Frida Kahlo “constructed her own image and identity through her artwork and her appearance”.

The show, which arrives at Tate Modern this June following a debut at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston (MFAH), invites visitors to peel back the layers of a mononymic (known by just one name) myth on par with Elvis. But as Kahlo’s face becomes increasingly synonymous with consumer goods, a question remains: if we continue to “eat her up”, will any of her radical substance be left?

Since Kahlo’s death in 1954, the curators noted, the artist has come to serve the feminist and gay rights movements as a “symbol of radical criticality and self-invention”. Her refusal to adhere to traditional gender norms either in her presentation or sexual conduct, and her carefully crafted adoption of traditional Tehuana clothing (through her mother’s heritage) are just part of the appeal.

Her path-breaking adoption of a confessional mode in art, sharing her biographical and biological trauma as the central subject of her work, seems to presage the way identity is performed on social media today. If her purpose is to serve as a signifier of active agency, then Kahlo’s time has come.

As a public icon, Kahlo is a strangely open symbol. Some of the uses to which her image has been put are incompatible with what we know of her convictions. Despite being a lifelong (if intermittent) communist, Kahlo is a hugely ubiquitous brand. Alongside 80 of her works, the Tate retrospective will feature an unconventional display of licensed “merch”, from shoes and bags, to tequila and sanitary pads. The latter is bitterly ironic, given Kahlo’s own struggles with reproductive health.

The MFAH gift shop offers visitors the opportunity to “shop the collection”, with a pick of Kahlo planters, Kahlo “secular candles”, tote bags and more. The most memorable item is a strikingly weird “Two Fridas” fridge magnet. This transforms one of the artist’s most visceral paintings into a kitschy bit of kitchen bling. This is the challenge of the Kahlo legacy: the more ubiquitous her image becomes, the more its original and liberating meaning risks being flattened.

A tale of two kitchens

The exhibition’s parallel gastronomic tie-ins offer a useful way of considering the tension between the particular and the spectacular. Le Jardinier, the MFAH’s restaurant, makes a practice of creating “Culinary Canvas” desserts to honour the artists that the gallery shows. For Kahlo, they created In Bloom, “a vibrant reflection of the flowers in Mexican culture and Kahlo’s artwork … layered with guava cream, pineapple compote and hibiscus gelée.” It looks the picture.

In contrast, Tate Eat’s partnership with Santiago Lastra, the Michelin-starred founder of KOL, suggests a more grounded approach to cultural translation. Like Kahlo, Lastra is a proud Mexican, but rather than relying on imported ingredients, his method is to reinterpret from the British terroir.

The flavour of lime is recreated by the tart British berry sea buckthorn. Floral mango is reimagined through tempered butternut squash. This research-intensive translation liberates his cuisine from poor quality air-freighted produce, and, arguably, gets the British diner closer to a true Mexican experience.

I had the opportunity to enjoy Lastra’s food, after which I asked him about the common points between his cooking and Kahlo’s art. He replied that his involvement was about “showcasing Mexican culture in the UK – I think Frida, well, taking your roots somewhere else really tests them, putting them into a global city is where it is tested, and that’s how you know it’s good”. He went on to say that his mission is to share “the high quality of Mexico in terms of craft”.

Creative translation, like Kahlo’s adoption of indigenous clothing, or Lastra’s cooking, is the key to maintaining a creative legacy.

There are more than 100 artworks by artists who have been inspired by Kahlo coming to the Tate this June. Among them is Mary McCartney’s portrait of Tracy Emin as Frida Kahlo. Emin’s practice explores personal trauma and defiant survival, like Kahlo’s, and it is both fitting and disarming to be confronted by this combination of the two personae.

This is where Kahlo’s legacy finds its breath. Just as Lastra translates the tart snap of a Mexican lime into a British berry, artists like Emin translate Kahlo’s radical essence into a modern context. Without this kind of reimagination, an artist’s legacy loses its relevance. It becomes less magnetic and more of a magnet, stuck to a fridge.

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Benedict Carpenter van Barthold 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 Tate Modern is serving up Frida Kahlo – from canvas to cuisine – https://theconversation.com/how-tate-modern-is-serving-up-frida-kahlo-from-canvas-to-cuisine-275345

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Matt T. Clark, Visiting Research Fellow in Philosophy, University of Leeds

Just over 18 months ago, Keir Starmer said the “fight for trust is the battle that defines our age”. Now a scandal surrounding his former ambassador to Washington, Peter Mandelson, could end his political career, precisely because of the damage it could cause to public trust.

At the heart of the story are documents released by the US government showing that Mandelson continued to be friends with Jeffrey Epstein after his conviction for sex offences. The prime minister insists Mandelson lied about the depth of his friendship with Epstein, though he has acknowledged he knew that it continued after Epstein’s conviction.

Some reporting suggests that there was a view in Downing Street that the “risk” of appointing Mandelson as ambassador to the US – his past political career, his then publicly known relationship with Epstein – was less important than the benefit to the national interest. As Peter Kyle, secretary of state for business and trade, put it in September (before further files were released): “Britain needed someone with outstanding and singular talents”.

This implies a specific view of how politicians should behave. When the national interest is at stake, actions are acceptable that would otherwise be morally questionable. Some politicians seem to think political effectiveness can outweigh standards. Philosophers sometimes agree that politics makes “dirty hands” unavoidable. Machiavelli thought politicians should learn not to be good. To achieve important political ends, it can be necessary to act badly.

It’s striking that Downing Street might have thought that this extended to Mandelson’s alleged relationship with Epstein – and that even this could be traded off against improving the UK’s relationship with the White House.

Similar views appear to have been taken when it came to Boris Johnson. He was a man of whom high standards were not expected in office, but who could effectively deliver important political outcomes (an electoral victory, Brexit).

But a large majority the public believes standards should take priority over delivery in politics – according to research from UCL’s Constitution Unit.

This suggests the public and those in politics lack a common understanding of how the latter should behave. And that poses a problem for rebuilding trust. Philosophical perspectives suggest a common understanding of this kind is central if we are to be able to trust well.

What is trust?

When we talk about trust in politics, we often pass over what trust is. And it is frustratingly difficult to set out a clear definition. Researchers significantly disagree about how to conceptualise trust.

Philosophical views vary. Trust may be a demand to be ethically considered by others or to have a deep-rooted psychological need for attachment to others satisfied. It could be to rely on others acting out of goodwill towards you or your desire to do something overlapping with someone’s desire to do something else.

By failing to define what trust is when we aim to restore it, we may act counterproductively or misdiagnose the problems we face.

A growing family of views in philosophy share a central insight. Trust requires more than just expectations about how a person will behave – it also relates to expectations about how a person ought to behave. Philosophers call these “normative expectations”.

I’m not trusting my partner to make dinner tonight simply because I think that he will. That’s just to rely on him. I trust him only if I think that there is a reason he ought to cook dinner tonight, and I think that he will act in line with this reason. Perhaps, I know he values fairness and that I cooked last night. Maybe he said he’d cook yesterday, and I know that I can take him at his word.

Philosophers debate exactly what these expectations are. Some think trust is concerned with commitments or obligations we should act in line with. Others think it’s that we expect a responsiveness to others counting on us.

All these views suggest a specific environment is required to allow us to trust well. We need some shared understanding of what we should do. If my partner recognises no reasons why he ought to cook me dinner tonight, he most likely won’t. If I come to trust him to do so and he doesn’t, then my normative expectation of him is likely to be wrong. My trust will be broken.

If that discrepancy about how we each think that we should behave grows, trust will be broken more often.

Misaligned politics

If we think about how politicians ought to behave, we can see how there might be a problem of trust.

The same Constitution Unit research shows that the public value standards like honesty and accountability. They think those in public life should behave in line with high standards.

Some politicians look at the same situation and see other reasons that suggest they ought to act differently. Where a relationship essential to Britain’s national security is at stake – or some other element of the national interest – then some politicians think they ought to overlook honesty and integrity.

This mismatch will lead to public trust being repeatedly broken.

Much discussion among politicians focuses on “delivery” as central to establishing trust. Actions will certainly matter. But more work should be done to ensure alignment between what the public expects of politicians and what they actually do. In a volatile world, a public conversation is needed on when – if ever – national need can outweigh these standards. Culture change in government and Downing Street will matter.

This is vital. Falling public trust in politics and distrust in politicians have been linked to voters switching off from politics and turning to protests or populist parties.

We need to align our expectations for high standards in public life. Then we need to require them of everyone, however useful they may be.

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Matt T. Clark is a member of the Labour Party.

– ref. Trust and ethics: the public and politicians no longer even agree on the basics – https://theconversation.com/trust-and-ethics-the-public-and-politicians-no-longer-even-agree-on-the-basics-275533

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Nicolas Forsans, Professor of Management and Co-director of the Centre for Latin American & Caribbean Studies, University of Essex

Cuba has reached a breaking point that even its crisis-hardened leadership cannot ignore. It is running out of fuel amid US pressure, having last received oil on January 9 from Mexico. This has prompted airlines such as Air Canada to cancel all flights to Cuba, hitting the tourism lifeline that accounts for most of the island’s foreign currency.

Massive power outages are now routine, and the UN has warned of a possible “humanitarian collapse” if Cuba’s oil needs go unmet. For the first time in decades, Cuba’s 67-year-old regime faces a crisis where its traditional survival tools – external bailouts, mass emigration and austerity – may no longer be enough.

Hostility between the US and Cuba dates back to 1960, when the newly socialist Cuban state nationalised American assets. Havana’s subsequent cold war alignment with Moscow then prompted an embargo in 1962 that prohibited almost all trade between the US and Cuba. Since then, Washington’s approach has cycled between pressure and limited engagement.

However, Donald Trump’s return to the White House in January 2025 has produced the most aggressive strategy in decades. And following the recent US capture and replacement of Venezuelan leader Nicolás Maduro, which resulted in Cuba losing its main oil patron, Washington has moved to close the island’s remaining energy lifelines. It has done so by threatening tariffs on countries that ship fuel to Cuba.

The Trump administration’s message to Havana is blunt: negotiate a deal on US terms or face an energy collapse that could push Cuba into a new “special period” (a reference to the 1990s when Cuba experienced severe economic crises after the dissolution of the Soviet Union). Havana has few options but to negotiate.

Trump and his secretary of state, Marco Rubio, have framed this operation as the next chapter in their effort to roll back left‑wing regimes in the western hemisphere. But despite this rhetoric, Washington’s goals are more strategic than they are ideological.

This is partly because delivering regime change in Cuba would be difficult. The regime has a strict ideological grip over the population and military that extends far beyond the current Cuban leader, Miguel Díaz-Canel. This makes it unlikely that removing him from office would bring about any real change.

The White House is most likely seeking a Cuba that is less of a security problem, less of a migration pressure valve and more of an economic opportunity – even if it remains formally communist.

What does the US want?

Preventing another mass exodus of Cubans to the US is a central objective. Over the past five years, more than 1 million Cubans have left their country, with hundreds of thousands entering the US. Trump has tightened those channels and has deported some recent arrivals, signalling that the “escape valve” that has helped Havana manage discontent is closing.

Any deal will therefore prioritise the Cuban government’s cooperation in discouraging departures, as well as guaranteeing its acceptance of deportation flights. Washington will also want to secure commitments from Cuba’s leaders to maintain basic social order so a humanitarian emergency does not spill into a migration crisis.

Meanwhile, the US has become alarmed in recent years by Cuba’s role as a listening post and foothold for its rivals. China has invested in intelligence facilities there aimed at intercepting US communications, while Russia signed a new military cooperation pact with Cuba in 2025.

Trump and Rubio may well see the energy chokehold as a chance to force Havana to close specific Chinese and Russian facilities or block future bases. Also likely are demands for some form of monitoring or transparency to reassure Washington that these activities are being rolled back.

At the same time, the Trump administration will see a commercial upside. Cuba’s infrastructure is in tatters and years of mismanagement, US dollar shortages and rules blocking profit repatriation have scared off investors. But the island’s beaches, ports and location still offer long‑term potential.

In any deal, US negotiators would likely push for a significant expansion of the private sector, as well as access for US and allied companies in tourism, energy generation, grids, ports, telecoms and logistics. Crucially, Washington will want some guarantees that foreign investors can repatriate profits.

Many tourism businesses in Cuba are currently controlled by Grupo de Administración Empresarial (Gaesa), a military-run conglomerate that controls about half the economy. So a gradual loosening of Gaesa’s economic control, or at least clearer rules and partnerships that give foreign firms more say, are probable US demands.

This would not mean a wholesale “opening” overnight. The Cuban military would still control much of the commanding heights. But it would create real stakes for US and European businesses in the island’s gradual economic recovery.

Finally, Trump and Rubio need something more immediate they can sell to domestic audiences as proof that pressure has “worked”. Yet they are also wary of triggering uncontrolled regime collapse. That tension points towards symbolic, calibrated steps rather than full democratisation.

This is likely to involve the release of a number of political prisoners, especially those jailed after protests in 2021. It may also see controls on internet access and independent civic activity eased, and possibly some limited experiments with more competitive local elections.

What Washington wants in Cuba is not an immediate transition, but a narrative: that US pressure forced a long‑closed regime to crack the door open, creating space for future change while avoiding a sudden vacuum close to its shores.

For Cuba’s leaders, the priority is regime survival. They will give ground most readily on economic and foreign policy issues, where concessions can be packaged as tactical and reversible. But they are likely to resist anything that looks like real power‑sharing at home.

That makes a deal centred on fuel, finance, migration control and a partial strategic realignment the most likely near‑term outcome. Cuba’s political system will bend at the margins, yet it is unlikely that the US administration will want to break the regime entirely.

Nicolas Forsans 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 US is starving Cuba of fuel – here’s what a deal between them could look like – https://theconversation.com/the-us-is-starving-cuba-of-fuel-heres-what-a-deal-between-them-could-look-like-275765

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Ros Williams, Senior Lecturer in Digital Media and Society, University of Sheffield

For Reform parliamentary candidate and former academic Matt Goodwin: “Englishness is an ethnicity that is deeply rooted in a people that can trace their roots back over generations.” By contrast, he argues, liberal progressives believe “anybody can be English as long as they sign a piece of paper and identify with Englishness.”

This is not a novel definition, and for some, it may be completely uncontroversial. It’s not surprising that some people living in England can trace their ancestors back many generations.

But attempting to define a particular “ethnicity” is also an attempt to determine who is (and who is not) part of a given group. Policing these boundaries has serious consequences.

The idea of essential groups

To speak of an identity as one that can be traced “back over generations”, is to speak of human reproduction and generational transmission. These are central ideas in how, historically, people have been categorised into racial groups.

The biological sciences have a long history of dividing humans up. Take 18th-century Swedish biologist Carl Linnaeus’s Systema Naturae, the most influential attempt to classify the natural world, and the basis of contemporary zoological nomenclature. Linnaeus subdivided humans into four varieties that many of us would balk at today and has no basis in modern science: white Europeans, reddish Americans, tawny Asians, and blackish Africans.

In the centuries since, the number of groups has changed, as well as the language used to describe them. But the idea that we can inherit some innate qualities via generational inheritance – essentialism – underwrites these influential ideas. Essentialism would have it that you’re born as part of a group and all the “identifying” in the world cannot change that.

These divisions can also generate a sense of entitlement to certain rights or resources for one group over another. They have been used to justify violence, discrimination – some of the most shameful moments in human history. Indeed, racial essentialism became so dangerous that Unesco published a series of statements to flag the dangers of the impulse to divide ourselves like this.

The limits of categories

The world is in a constant state of push and pull. People move or are moved, for all kinds of reasons all the time. They settle and reproduce in different places. This is an empirical truth that limits the utility of essentialist ideas.

Essentialist thinking requires us to say both where, and when, we are from. Some will find it quite straightforward to demonstrate membership of a particular group but others will not. Many of us won’t be able to say that all of our ancestors (as far back as history allows us to trace) were all born in England.

Take Dame Kelly Holmes. She was one of the public figures Spectator editor Michael Gove mentioned when he interviewed Goodwin on this and other subjects. He asked: “Would you say that [she is] not really English?” Holmes is mixed race (a term that also leans on the idea of essential categories that somehow merge). She served in the army, won gold medals for England and Great Britain and received the honorific of Dame. But if only some of her “roots” can be traced “back over generations”, then does she not qualify as English?

Many of us will confound the groups that we are made to squeeze into because, ultimately, our roots long predate contemporary ideas of nation, identity and group.

Why do people invoke these ideas?

For me, what’s important here is not disproving the essential existence of groups, but trying to trace why they are being mobilised. Why do politicians want to define these categories?

Groups, identities and communities are made and remade. We come to feel a part of a collective. And this feeling is generated often in ways that seem somehow naturally occurring. We pray at the same place of worship; we listen to the same kinds of music. But our affiliations to particular groups do not exist in the wild.

Categories have social power. When you define a collective, it makes it possible to speak to that collective and to mobilise it. Collectives can be delineated in more and less definitive ways. Essentialist thinking is some of the most definitive and inflexible of all. At its worst, those outside a group are denied access to respect and safety.

So, why distinguish between those who belong and those who do not? Why debate whether public figures with ancestors born elsewhere, but born and raised in England, are “actually” English? Why evoke (but not invoke) essentialised ideas of race, using words like ethnicity?

And if we know that cultivating boundaries of belonging can generate a sense of entitlement, then who risks being denied access, and to what? In a period of economic difficulty when public resources are already stretched, what is the next logical step after enough people can be made to agree on a clear definition of who is or is not English?

The essentialist claims we are hearing in the UK are not new, but they are powerful. So when politicians like Goodwin assert a desire to open a public debate on the categories they have selected – and even defined – we have to ask what purpose it serves.

Ros Williams has received funding from the ESRC

– ref. Matt Goodwin’s ‘English ethnicity’ rhetoric: it’s important to ask why politicians want to sort people into categories – https://theconversation.com/matt-goodwins-english-ethnicity-rhetoric-its-important-to-ask-why-politicians-want-to-sort-people-into-categories-275200

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Chloe Griffin, Research Fellow, School of Ocean & Earth Science, University of Southampton, University of Southampton

To an astronaut today, the Earth looks like a vibrant blue marble from space. But 700 million years ago, it would have looked like a blinding white snowball. This seems an unlikely cradle for life, yet new evidence suggests the frozen ocean featured restricted ice-free oases that provided a lifeline for our earliest complex ancestors.

During the Cryogenian period, from 720 million to 635 million years ago, the Earth was buried by massive ice sheets that marched from the poles to the tropics. Surface temperatures were as low as -50°C.

Because the bright, white surface of the planet reflected (rather than absorbed) the Sun’s energy – a phenomenon known as the albedo effect – the Earth remained locked in this extreme climate state, dubbed “Snowball Earth”, for tens of millions of years.

Scientists have long thought that when the ocean is sealed under a kilometre-thick shell of ice, the usual connection between the atmosphere and oceans would be prevented, muting climate variability – short-term variations in temperature, precipitation, or wind patterns.

However, our new research, published in Earth and Planetary Science Letters, challenges this status quo. By forensically decoding ancient rocks, we’ve discovered that the climate became briefly more dynamic than normally expected on Snowball Earth: it even oscillated to a rhythm strikingly like our own today.

Decoding climate cycles

The breakthrough came from the Garvellach Islands off the west coast of Scotland. These rocks formed during the Sturtian glaciation (720–660 million years ago), the first of two Snowball Earth events; the second of which is the Marinoan (650–635 million years ago). The Scottish islands contain a unique exquisitely preserved archive of Snowball Earth, locking in the secrets of this weird ancient world.

Specifically, laminated sedimentary rocks, or varves, act as natural data loggers. Picture a lake today: sediment settles quietly through the water column and on to the lake bed. Over time, these layers of sediment build up at the bottom of the lake. Thousands or millions of years later, geologists can use the physical, chemical and biological information trapped in the now ancient lake sediments to track how environmental conditions – including climatic ones – changed over time.

While modern sediments like this are easy to find, detailed climate archives from deep time are vanishingly rare – leaving us in the dark about how our planet’s climate behaved during Snowball Earth – until now.

We investigated a unique pile of rocks six metres thick, containing around 2,600 such varves, on the Garvellach Islands. What they revealed was, quite frankly, jaw-dropping. Microscopic and statistical analysis showed that these layers weren’t uniform, as you might expect locked in a Snowball state.

Instead, they conform to predictable cycles occurring over timescales of a few years to centuries. Perhaps yet more surprising is that almost the full suite of climate rhythms we know from today are preserved; from annual seasons to modern phenomena like El Niño (a climate pattern marked by warming of sea surface temperatures in parts of the Pacific Ocean), and longer-term cycles linked to solar activity lasting decades to centuries.

We certainly wouldn’t have expected El Niño cycles – a climate phenomenon that happens every two to seven years today – not least since this requires a seamless communication between the atmosphere and oceans, which is hard to envision on an ice-covered world.

A (partially) ice-free ocean?

The cycles in these ancient sediments do raise an intriguing possibility: could parts of the ocean have been ice-free during Snowball Earth? To get to the bottom of this, we used computer climate simulations to test different climate scenarios – put simply, seeing how changing the amount of ice on the oceans changes the patterns of surface temperature across the globe. We found that when the ocean was frozen completely solid, climate oscillations were largely suppressed.

Our simulations also show that vast areas of open water weren’t needed to restart these oscillations; if just a small fraction of the ocean surface was ice free – say, 15% or so – atmosphere ocean interactions could have resumed.

Comparing the simulated climate records to the patterns we decoded in the rock record, we think these sediments most likely document a patch of open water in the tropics, sometimes called an oasis. Such oases are used by many scientists to reconcile the survival of life with the near-global glaciation.

Interestingly, several other lines of evidence suggest a partially ice-free ocean at roughly the same time. So, could our rocks provide evidence for temporary warming during Snowball Earth? While they confirm temporary patches of warmth in the surface ocean, these rocks represent a snapshot of around 3,000 years in a multi-million-year glaciation – likely a fleeting “Slushball” state within an otherwise frozen world. Another recent study even argues that liquid water could persist at -15°C, but only if it were extremely salty.

Crucially though, our new analysis shows that the climate system has an inherent tendency to oscillate, even under the most extreme conditions. Could these oases in the sea have been life-rafts for the earliest complex animals?

Perhaps the biggest paradox of Snowball Earth is that this hostile deep-freeze triggered a biological revolution. Around this time, the diversity and abundance of multicellular life exploded – an event fuelled by phosphorus-rich dust ground up by the very glaciers that threatened to extinguish it. Scientists think this happened during the warm interval between the two Snowball glaciations.

But for life to thrive after the ice, it first had to survive the second (Marinoan) glaciation. Our study offers a viable solution to this puzzle: if tropical oceans weren’t entirely frozen over, but held pockets of open water, these oases would have acted as habitable refuges.

Rather than a planet frozen solid, our work paints a picture of an “oscillating” world where thin cracks in the ice or more expansive patches of open water formed habitats that allowed, even encouraged, the colonisation of life.

By maintaining biodiversity during Earth’s most extreme ice age, these oases ensured that when the ice finally melted away, life was ready to bloom into the complex ecosystems we see today – eventually leading to us.

Thomas Gernon receives funding from the WoodNext Foundation, a fund of a donor-advised fund program. He is affiliated with the GFZ Helmholtz Centre for Geosciences, Potsdam, Germany.

Chloe Griffin 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. Snowball Earth wasn’t fully frozen: ice-free oases sheltered early life – https://theconversation.com/snowball-earth-wasnt-fully-frozen-ice-free-oases-sheltered-early-life-275240

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Grace Marks, Graduate Teaching Assistant in History and English Literature, Edge Hill University

Many people imagine the Victorians to be the stern “we are not amused” type, yet they had a pretty cruel sense of humour when it came to Valentine’s Day. While today’s lovers often exchange cute (and cheesy) cards, the Victorians loved to send insulting “vinegar Valentines”.

I first discovered this peculiar practice in 2019, when I designed a small exhibition at The Atkinson arts hub in Southport as part of a larger show about Victorian humour. Researching the cards was eye-opening and a lot of fun, and I think of them every Valentine’s Day when I look at the more sentimental and affectionate fare on sale now.

Posted to unwanted suitors or people one disliked, vinegar Valentines were cheaply produced cards with unflattering images and offensive poems. These anonymous illustrations and verses were intended to represent the unfortunate recipient and point out their flaws, as well as leaving them guessing who sent it.

The last word in bad romance, these mock valentines were particularly popular in Britain and America from the 1840s onwards. They featured many different types of caricatures.

Some cards focused on the recipient’s looks, exaggerating or shrinking facial features to look as unpleasant as possible. The illustration above depicts a women with squashed, unappealing features – and the accompanying verse highlighted these flaws. The rhyme, A Beanery Beauty, states:

Though nothing more homely e’er walked on two feet,

In your own mind you’re everything lovely and sweet,

That you’re not a heart-breaker’s a fact I’d impart –

You may break lots of dishes, but nary a heart.

The card lampoons the recipient’s presumptions that she is attractive and good-tempered. However, the verse cuts through the supposed good opinion the lady has of herself by asserting that she would never be admired enough to be loved. The line describing how she “may break lots of dishes, but nary a heart” is the zinger. Not only is the poor woman deemed unattractive, she’s clumsy too.

Women were not the only recipient of Valentine’s Day hate mail – men were denigrated if considered to be unappealing flirts. A common feature of vinegar Valentines was to depict the recipient as an animal. My favourite features a snake in a blue smoking jacket with a black top hat, and a horrified lady in the background.

The accompanying poem states the man is a “rattlesnake”, hence the image, and describes the “bitter” life a lady would lead with the recipient as a spouse. It ends with the cautionary line that a lady would “not accept the ring / Or evermore ‘twould prove a sting”.

These cards were phenomenally popular and demonstrate what happens when love goes wrong. But how did Victorians actually meet their potential spouses?

A Victorian version of online dating

A new method of courtship in the Victorian era was placing a matrimonial advert in a newspaper or periodical. These advertisements were much like a modern-day dating profile, where readers would submit their “bio” to the paper and wait for it to be published.

One paper that regularly featured matrimonial adverts was Ally Sloper’s Half-Holiday, an illustrated weekly that focused on the leisure pursuits of the late-19th century.

An early version of the comic strip, the Half-Holiday established an enormous readership, reaching 340,000 people. Most stories followed the fictional exploits of idle schemer Ally Sloper, who skulked and sloped about the alleyways of East London in the late 19th century. The “half-holiday” referred to the half day on a Saturday when people were free to indulge in leisure activities, and which for many coincided with football matches.

The dodgy Sloper was the main recurring character, but the paper also regularly featured his glamorous daughter, a music-hall actress and founder of Tootsie’s Matrimonial Agency. The paper liked to pretend their fictional characters were a genuine family, and offered real services to their readers. As the most romantic character, Tootsie Sloper was the natural figurehead for romance-seeking readers. Hopeful advertisers often described themselves as “fond of fun” and wanted their partners to be “jolly”.

Others played with humour in their ads, like the “Two Young Gentlemen” who described themselves to be “not painfully repulsive, but not precisely dangerously handsome”. Despite fears that dating adverts were full of scammers – much like catfishing today – they provided a novel way for partners to meet, and allowed regular readers the fun of speculating about the advertisers.

Victorians were not the perpetually grim-faced, serious bunch that old photographs often make out. They were fun-loving people who enjoyed playing practical jokes on one another. Matrimonial adverts allowed Victorian lovers to have more control over how they presented themselves to potential partners, and express their humour for all to see.

Vinegar Valentines were one of many ways the Victorians shared their sense of humour, while rejecting any unwanted attention. Insulting in nature, these cards were were intended to make the recipient feel foolish, much like the jokes found in comic papers at the time.

But spare a thought for the poor souls who received one of these cruel cards before the era of prepaid postage. They had to pay to receive their insults!

Grace Marks 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. Vinegar Valentines: how cruel Victorians sent insulting cards to their unwanted suitors – https://theconversation.com/vinegar-valentines-how-cruel-victorians-sent-insulting-cards-to-their-unwanted-suitors-275714