Category: The Conversation – Canada

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Nick Turner, Professor and Future Fund Chair in Leadership, Haskayne School of Business, University of Calgary

What does it mean to love your job?

The language of love has become increasingly common in contemporary discussions of work. People say they want to love their jobs, organizations promise roles candidates will love, and recruitment ads frame employment as an emotional commitment rather than an economic transaction.

Yet despite its ubiquity, the idea of “loving your job” is rarely defined with precision. What does it actually mean to love your job? And is that kind of love always good for employees and organizations?

These questions matter for both employees and organizations. Our recent research set out to understand what employees are describing when they say they love their work, and whether that experience is always advantageous.

What does it actually mean to love your job?

In a series of studies led by Michelle Inness at the University of Alberta and co-authored with Kevin Kelloway at Saint Mary’s University, our research team set out to answer a simple question: what does it mean to love your job?

Across multiple studies involving thousands of employees, we found that loving your job is not the same as being satisfied with your work or feeling engaged. Instead, it reflects three experiences coming together.

The first is enthusiasm for the work itself. People who love their jobs genuinely enjoy what they do and feel energized by their work. This goes beyond momentary satisfaction and reflects a deeper emotional connection to the work.

The second is commitment to the organization. Loving your job involves feeling attached to the organization you work for, believing that its problems are your problems and finding meaning in your role within it.

The third is connection with others at work. This does not mean oversharing or blurring professional boundaries. Rather, it reflects feeling emotionally connected to the people or community at work. This sense of trust and belonging makes work feel personally significant.

Many employees are satisfied with their jobs without feeling emotionally connected to them. Others feel highly engaged without experiencing their work as deeply meaningful. Still others may love the work they do but feel little attachment to the organization or the people around them.

Love of the job is different. It reflects a rare alignment, where enthusiasm, commitment and connection come together at once.

Why love of the job can be powerful

When these elements converge, love of the job can function as a powerful psychological resource.

In our research, love of the job was associated with outcomes above and beyond job satisfaction and work engagement. Employees who loved their jobs reported higher psychological well-being and remained more involved in their work.

For organizations, this distinction is important. Love of the job is not another label for motivation or engagement, but reflects a deeper form of attachment that helps explain why some employees remain invested even when work becomes demanding.

Under supportive conditions, loving one’s job can contribute to both individual well-being and sustained performance.

When love becomes a vulnerability

There are some possible drawbacks. While we didn’t find evidence that love of the job directly causes burnout, overwork or exploitation, past research suggests that having a deep attachment to work can create vulnerability when organizational conditions are poor.

Employees who love their jobs often feel a strong sense of responsibility for their work and their organization. In supportive environments, this can be a strength; in unsupportive ones, it may make it harder to step back, set limits or recognize when demands have become unreasonable.

In other words, love of the job may heighten employees’ exposure to the effects of poor management.

This is especially relevant in organizations that encourage employees to bring their “whole selves” to work or frame work as a calling. When strong emotional attachment is celebrated without realistic workloads, fair compensation or respect for boundaries, devotion can turn into obligation.

A paradox for organizations

These findings from our research point to a paradox. In our studies, employees who reported a higher love of their job were more likely to go above and beyond their formal roles. More broadly, organizations tend to value employees who care deeply about their work, seeing them as more invested and willing to contribute.

But encouraging love of the job without protecting those who experience it can undermine the very outcomes organizations value. Love cannot be manufactured, demanded or treated as a performance metric. It also cannot be substituted for sound management practices.

Supporting love of the job means creating conditions where enjoyment, commitment, and connection can develop organically through meaningful work, supportive leadership and healthy job design. Love of the job does not replace good management; it depends on it.

Decades of research on job design, leadership, and employee well-being show that sustained positive attachment to work requires clear expectations, manageable demands and psychological safety. Love cannot compensate for chronic overload, unclear roles or lack of support.

Loving your job can be fulfilling when that love is freely experienced under healthy conditions. But when love is expected or leveraged in place of good management, it can become a source of strain rather than strength.

Nick Turner receives research funding from Cenovus Energy Inc., Haskayne School of Business’s Future Fund, and the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada (SSHRC).

Julian Barling receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada and the Borden Chair of Leadership.

Kaylee Somerville receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Council of Canada (SSHRC).

Zhanna Lyubykh receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada (SSHRC).

– ref. What it really means to love your job — and when that love can become a liability – https://theconversation.com/what-it-really-means-to-love-your-job-and-when-that-love-can-become-a-liability-275204

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Kerri Finlay, Professor, Department of Biology, University of Regina

The value of wetlands on the landscape cannot be overstated — they store and filter water, provide wildlife habitat, cool the atmosphere and sequester carbon. Yet, in the farmland area of Canada’s Prairies, wetlands are being drained to increase crop production and expand urban development.

While wetlands sequester carbon, they also naturally release greenhouse gases (GHG) into the atmosphere. That means the impact of wetland drainage on net GHG emissions was previously difficult to determine.

Our new study, however, has found that widespread wetland drainage on Prairie farmland releases 2.1 million tonnes of carbon dioxide equivalent (CO₂-eq) per year. That’s equal to more than five per cent of Prairie agricultural emissions from the industry as a whole. CO₂-eq is a metric used to to compare emissions from different greenhouse gases by converting amounts of those gases to the equivalent amount of carbon dioxide.

Our research team included Darrin Qualman from the National Farmers Union, Sydney Jensen, a then-graduate student at the University of Regina, as well as Murray Hidlebaugh and Scott Beaton, independent farmers in the Canadian Prairies.

Some tout wetland drainage as providing numerous benefits to agriculture. In addition to increasing arable land area, proponents argue that “proper drainage management … reduces the carbon footprint by cutting down equipment operation time, fuel and emissions, reduces the impacts of extreme weather events, and decreases overland flooding and nutrient washouts.”

This assertion of the environmental benefits associated with wetland drainage is not supported by science. Our work highlights a large increase in the carbon footprint associated with wetland drainage rather than a reduction, while other work documents impacts on streamflows and nutrient export, and the loss of ducks and other birds.

The impacts of draining wetlands

To quantify the net greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions associated with wetland drainage, our approach was to quantify GHG sources when wetlands are intact, and compare them with sources after drainage takes place to understand the net effect of wetland removal on emissions. The annual rate of wetland loss from existing data (10,820 hectares per year) was used to quantify associated carbon emissions for the region.

Intact wetlands emit GHGs such as carbon dioxide, methane and nitrous oxide, so their removal eliminates these natural emissions from the landscape. The presence of wetlands in fields can also require repeated machinery passes and lead to double fertilization around wetland margins, both of which contribute to GHG emissions.

When wetlands are drained, carbon-rich sediments are exposed to the air, allowing rapid decomposition and the release of carbon dioxide. Drainage also expands cropland area, leading to additional GHG emissions from farming activities on the newly cultivated land. It often requires the removal of rings of willow trees surrounding wetlands, with the resulting debris typically burned or composted, producing further emissions.

Our results show that the amount of carbon dioxide released from exposed soil from drained wetlands far exceeded any other source. This was much larger than emissions when wetlands were intact, including natural wetland emissions and emissions from multiple passes with machinery. Additional emissions from farming the former wetland and the removal of vegetation also made a small contribution to the overall balance.

Overall, we estimate that wetland drainage contributes to an annual increase in emissions of at least 2.1 million tonnes CO₂-eq (recognizing that stored carbon will be released over a multi-year period). It is worth noting that this includes natural emissions from intact wetlands, but emissions that are not human-caused are not typically targeted in an effort to achieve GHG reductions.

For example, reducing methane emissions from livestock is a strategy to reduce agricultural GHG emissions, but emissions from wild animals are not considered or incorporated in the same way. Our estimate swells to 3.4 million tonnes of CO₂-eq per year when we exclude natural wetland GHG emissions; this represents an increase of approximately eight per cent above currently quantified GHG emissions from the agricultural industry in the Prairie provinces.

Canada’s GHG Inventory

Canada uses a National Inventory Report to quantify GHG emissions from different jurisdictions and industries, but emissions associated with wetland drainage are not currently included. Emissions of 3.4 million tonnes of CO₂-eq from a single year of wetland drainage are substantial and exceed several emission sources currently described in the report.

For example, emissions from wetland destruction are greater than agricultural emissions from gasoline combustion in trucks or from poultry and swine manure in the Prairie provinces. Including emissions from wetland drainage in the National Inventory Report would provide a more accurate accounting of total agricultural emissions and better position the country to meet its climate commitments.

Prairie farmers play a key stewardship role in this landscape — preserving wetlands on their land provides a public good. Retaining wetlands would create many additional benefits: maintaining wildlife habitats, groundwater recharge, nutrient retention, as well as drought and flood mitigation. These wetland services help address global and regional crises related to biodiversity loss, climate change, lake eutrophication and flooding.

Research shows there is public willingness to pay to restore wetlands in the Prairie provinces. There is additionally a need to reduce conflict and increase collaboration in conversations on agricultural water management in the Canadian Prairies and develop policies that incentivize and enable landowners to consider the environmental benefits of wetlands in their decision making. By better understanding the costs of GHG emissions resulting from wetland drainage, we can better preserve wetlands in the Canadian Prairies.

Kerri Finlay receives funding from the Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council (NSERC) of Canada, Canada Research Chair (CRC) program, Canada Foundation for Innovation (CFI), the Saskatchewan Ministry of Agriculture (Agricultural Development Fund), Saskatchewan Cattlemen’s Association (SCA). The research reported here was funded by the National Farmers’ Union.

Colin Whitfield receives funding from Canada’s Federal Tri-Agencies, Canada Foundation for Innovation, Environment and Climate Change Canada, Agriculture and Agri-Food Canada (Bridge to Land Water Sky Living Lab, Central Prairies Living Lab).

Lauren Bortolotti receives funding from Environment and Climate Change Canada, Alberta North American Waterfowl Management Plan Partnership, and the Prairie Habitat Joint Venture. She is an employee of Ducks Unlimited Canada.

– ref. Draining wetlands produces substantial emissions in the Canadian Prairies – https://theconversation.com/draining-wetlands-produces-substantial-emissions-in-the-canadian-prairies-273549

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Anthony Wong, Post-Doctoral Fellow, Immunology, University of British Columbia

We are now approaching six years since COVID-19 was declared a pandemic by the World Health Organization, yet talk of vaccines and our immune systems persists in our cultural conversations — from political arenas to the dinner table.

The vaccination conversation has extended beyond the scientific community, resulting in controversial changes to the recommended vaccination schedule for children amid other changes to public health policy and funding cuts to vaccine development.

These changes coincide with reports of rising outbreaks of infectious diseases like measles in Canada and other countries that have historically been measles-free.

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US experiencing largest measles outbreak since 2000 – 5 essential reads on the risks, what to do and what’s coming next

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Scientific evidence points to vaccines helping, rather than hindering, our immune systems. Each of us possesses a team of immune cells dedicated to protecting us against outside enemies or “pathogens” — harmful bacteria or viruses that can make us sick, like the viruses that cause COVID-19 or the common cold.

Front-line defenders

There are two kinds of players on our team of immune cells with distinct roles. The first are “front-line defenders” that stand guard and can respond immediately to intruding pathogens that enter our home turf.

These kinds of immune cells, called “innate” immune cells, are found in peripheral tissues around our bodies, including our respiratory tract, digestive tract and even on the surface of our skin. Their job is to rapidly clear pathogens by eating them in a process called “phagocytosis” (derived from an ancient Greek word meaning “to eat”) or releasing toxic compounds into their surrounding environment to target the pathogen indirectly.

Usually, innate immune cells can fight off intruding pathogens on their own. However, sometimes the enemy team is so formidable that front-line defenders are overwhelmed and call for backup.

Advanced responders

Another play that innate immune cells can make when things get tough is to pass the immune response on to the second kind of immune player, the “advanced responders.”

These immune cells, known as “adaptive” immune cells, must be activated by innate immune cells that have encountered the pathogen in order to respond.

Innate immune cells instruct adaptive immune cells on how to recognize the enemy based on unique molecular components of the bacteria or virus on the enemy team — and once adaptive immune cells acquire their target, they mount a powerful and highly specific response to the target pathogen.

Adaptive immune cell players include B cells, which secrete antibodies — small molecular agents that bind to the target pathogens and clear them from the body — as well as T cells, which can directly kill cells infected by the pathogen or provide extra support to B cells.

Importantly, a portion of adaptive immune cell populations can retain memory of the specific virus or bacteria they learned to fight off in an infection — so if you were to encounter that same pathogen again in the future, your adaptive immune cells would be able to clear the infection much faster, without needing activation from innate immune cells.

Training the team

While our team of immune cells can develop protection against a pathogen after fighting an infection, vaccines train it in advance — without requiring us to get sick.

Vaccines contain a component of a pathogen of interest or a compromised version of the pathogen, which does not have the capacity to cause disease.

For example, the COVID-19 vaccine contains a molecule called “mRNA” that encodes a small component of the virus that causes COVID-19, but not the virus itself.

This allows our immune cells to learn how to recognize and respond to the COVID-19 virus in advance of a potential infection. Specifically, the adaptive immune cells that will retain memory of the response can provide long-term protection if we encounter the real COVID-19 virus in the future.

Put simply, vaccines train our home immune players to prepare for the big game, before they face the enemy team — which is what any good coach would encourage.

Moving forward

Vaccines, including mRNA vaccines used for COVID-19, are not a new strategy of disease prevention — they have been safely and effectively used for decades to protect us from various infectious diseases.

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Read more:
It’s World Immunization Week. How prepared is Canada if vaccines are needed for a new pandemic?

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For example, a successful vaccination campaign against smallpox led to its eradication from the world in 1980, which is widely considered a milestone of modern medicine. Today, vaccines are tightly regulated and monitored by health-care officials, including local public health authorities such as pediatricians.

Here in Canada, new vaccine technology is currently being developed by leading researchers for COVID-19 and other diseases. These continued efforts will equip current and future generations with immune protection against old and new foes — and allow vaccines to continue to provide our team with a home advantage.

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Immunity and Society is a new series from The Conversation Canada that presents new vaccine discoveries and immune-based innovations that are changing how we understand and protect human health. Through a partnership with the Bridge Research Consortium, these articles — written by experts in Canada at the forefront of immunology, biomanufacturing, social science and humanities — explore the latest developments and their impacts.

Anthony Wong is a Post-Doctoral Fellow at the University of British Columbia that receives funding from Canadian Institutes of Health Research (CIHR), Health Research BC, and Canadian Biomedical Research Fund and Biosciences Research Infrastructure Fund (CBRF-BRIF) on behalf of the AVENGER project grant. Anthony Wong is affiliated with the Bridge Research Consortium (BRC).

– ref. How vaccines give our immune systems a home advantage – https://theconversation.com/how-vaccines-give-our-immune-systems-a-home-advantage-275066

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Naomi Andrews, Associate Professor of Child and Youth Studies, Brock University

Picture this: a group of girls are sitting at a table in the lunchroom when a boy walks by. One girl turns to another girl and laughingly says: “Oh, isn’t that your boyfriend? You should go kiss him!”

A different girl chimes in: “Yeah, go give him a big kiss!” The girl in question responds: “Shh, stop that. I don’t want him to hear you!” and she smiles, but her face goes red. Her friends continue, making kissing noises and laughing. The others in the group join in laughing as well.

How should the girl interpret that behaviour? Were the teasers being playful — or taunting her in an aggressive way?

The answer to that question is: it depends. Teasing is a common but complex behaviour that can serve pro-social functions, such as bonding, signalling relational closeness. But it can also have anti-social functions and harm the targeted person.

Like all complex social behaviours, teasing interactions are influenced by a number of factors, like the relationship between teaser and target, the content of the tease and the local and broader context.

Study about harmful or playful teasing

In our recent study, we developed a model that organizes these various factors and the links between them.

The study used semi-structured interviews with 27 university students, who we asked to describe a teasing interaction from their adolescence that they experienced as harmful and playful.

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Too many kids face bullying rooted in social power imbalances — and educators can help prevent this

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Based on the interviews with participants, we developed a model to capture the many dynamics involved in teasing (such as the relationship between parties) and profiles of both harmful and playful teasing that shows where these factors differ.

Power differences, motives

As described by research participants, harmful teasing often includes content that is sensitive to the target, and might include a power difference between teaser and target based on factors like gender or sexuality, culture or racialization, as well as wealth or popularity. Some harmful content expressed was about sexuality (more than one participant mentioned homophobia) and ethnicity or religion (one participant was teased about wearing her hijab).

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Read more:
Girls in hijab experience overlapping forms of racial and gendered violence

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Playful teasing, on the other hand, often happens between close friends and is based on positive motives (for example, to be friendly, for encouragement). However, there is also substantial overlap between playful and harmful teasing.

Teasing can also start out as playful but “cross the line” to become harmful. Our systematic review of existing research about peer teasing revealed that youth consider a few key factors to determine what “crosses the line.”

The teaser’s body language, facial expressions and tone of voice combine to indicate the meaning behind the tease. Intent is important, and a teaser whose intent is clearly playful is less likely to cross the line.

Changes across development

The interplay between relationships and teasing content is also important. Youth in our study indicated that friends should know what to say and what not to say. That is, given their closeness, friends should know what specific content would cross the line. That said, teasing from friends can still hurt, particularly because they can have intimate knowledge of the target’s vulnerabilities.

Other research also points to important changes across children’s development. For example, researchers have noted that teasing is almost always interpreted as harmful by younger children. It isn’t until adolescence that youth recognize the potential for teasing to be playful.

This suggests that advances in cognitive, social and emotional skills across the transition to adolescence may better help youth understand the complexity and nuance that can be a part of these interactions.

For adults working with youth — or thinking about their own lives — it’s important to remember a social interaction may look harmless from the outside, but can still have negative consequences for those involved.

As for the distinction between teasing and bullying, what our research shows is that some harmful teasing can be considered bullying as it meets the hallmarks of that negative behaviour (power differential, intent, repetition), but not always.

Limits of playful teasing

Based on findings from our review and across our multiple studies, we suggest some insights around the limits of playful teasing that could be relevant for youth or adults in their own lives — or adults supporting children and youth.

1. A good starting place for playful teasing is when the teaser has a positive, close relationship with the person they are teasing. The person being teased should feel comfortable enough to ask for the teasing to stop if they want; and then the teasing should stop right away.

2. Teasing shouldn’t involve part of the target’s identity or involve sensitive topics. This is why having a close, positive relationship is a good prerequisite, so that the teaser knows what topics are “off-limits.”

3. We should always be careful about teasing around an audience, as this can amplify the harm — even when the audience involves other friends.

4. Check in with the person you’re teasing and pay close attention to their reaction. Often playful teasing is reciprocal.

5. Repeated teasing — even about seemingly benign topics — is more likely to feel harmful.

Lastly, even if a teaser means to be playful, being teased can still hurt. Be prepared to make amends and engage in relationship repair if the playful tease “crosses the line” and harms someone.

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Is teasing playful or harmful? It depends on a number of factors – https://theconversation.com/is-teasing-playful-or-harmful-it-depends-on-a-number-of-factors-273676

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Jennifer Guthrie, Assistant Professor of Microbiology and Immunology, Western University

Norovirus outbreaks have repeatedly shadowed major international events, and the Olympics are no exception. When thousands of athletes from around the world gather in one place, attention is usually on records broken and medals won. Yet the size and intensity of the Games can create conditions that allow infectious microbes to spread.

The outbreak at the 2026 Milan-Cortina Winter Games has already affected several teams, illustrating the real-world impact of such infections. Highly contagious and able to survive for days on surfaces, norovirus is one example of a pathogen that can move efficiently in these environments.

While norovirus outbreaks are often reported on cruise ships and in schools, global sporting events present additional challenges. Meals are served in centralized facilities, training and recreational spaces are shared and participants travel from countries around the world. In these environments, norovirus can spread rapidly through shared spaces and close contact.

Outbreaks at events like the Olympics are more than logistical setbacks. They reveal how the virus’s biology and the realities of mass gatherings make containment difficult.

What is norovirus?

Norovirus is a highly contagious virus that causes acute gastroenteritis, an inflammation of the stomach and intestines. It is the leading cause of food-borne illness worldwide, causing hundreds of millions of cases each year.

Although infections are often brief, typically lasting 24 to 72 hours, symptoms can be intense. Sudden onset vomiting, watery diarrhea, nausea, stomach cramps and sometimes low-grade fever or body aches are common. Most healthy adults recover quickly, but young children, older adults and people who become dehydrated can experience serious complications.

One reason norovirus spreads so efficiently is its extremely low infectious dose: fewer than 20 viral particles may be enough to cause illness. By comparison, many other viruses require far higher doses to trigger infection.

In practical terms, microscopic contamination on food, surfaces or hands can be enough to make someone sick. The virus spreads primarily through the fecal–oral route, via contaminated food or water, direct person-to-person contact or touching contaminated surfaces and then the mouth.

Norovirus is also remarkably resilient. It can survive on surfaces for days, withstand freezing temperatures and resist many common disinfectants. It is not reliably killed by alcohol-based hand sanitizers, making thorough hand-washing with soap and water essential. Adding to the challenge, infected individuals can spread the virus before symptoms appear and may continue shedding it for days after recovery.

These characteristics of high infectivity, environmental persistence, and the ability to spread before and after symptoms appear make norovirus particularly difficult to control, especially in settings where large numbers of people live, eat and interact in close proximity.

Why the Olympics are a perfect storm

The Olympic Games bring together thousands of athletes, coaches, support staff and spectators for several weeks of intense competition. With back-to-back events, team meetings and travel between venues, athletes are in near-constant contact with teammates, competitors and staff. In the shared spaces of the Olympic Village, even small exposures can allow infections to move quickly.

The rapid turnover of participants and the arrival of athletes from multiple countries further increase the risk. Different viral strains can be introduced, and those infected may unknowingly carry the virus to others or even back home.

In this environment, speed is everything: norovirus can cause illness within a day or two of exposure, allowing outbreaks to spread quickly and challenging even the most well-prepared health teams.

Containment challenges during major sporting events

Isolation, sanitation and rapid testing are critical but difficult at scale. Containing norovirus during a global event like the 2026 Winter Olympics highlights the practical hurdles organizers face. In early February, a norovirus cluster among the Finland women’s hockey team forced the postponement of their opening game against Canada, as more than a dozen players were either ill or quarantined, showing how quickly an infectious outbreak can disrupt competition plans.

Testing is a key limitation. Norovirus is often diagnosed based on symptoms, and although laboratory tests are available, results may be delayed and capacity strained during a massive event. Because people can spread the virus before symptoms appear, transmission may already be underway by the time cases are confirmed.

Sanitation must also intensify quickly. Norovirus survives on surfaces and requires chlorine-based disinfectants applied thoroughly to high-touch areas across venues and athlete housing. Scaling these measures across large facilities demands rapid co-ordination and staffing.

Isolation is another essential tool. Separating symptomatic or exposed athletes can interrupt transmission but may disrupt team routines. After one player on Switzerland’s women’s hockey team tested positive, the entire team entered precautionary isolation and missed the opening ceremony, showing how a single case can have wide-reaching effects.

Containment ultimately depends on co-ordination among organizers, medical teams and public health authorities, along with clear communication to safeguard both health and competition.

Beyond the Games

The Olympics showcase the best of global unity, but they also reveal how tightly interconnected our world has become.

Managing infectious diseases at events of this scale requires constant preparedness, reminding us that public health planning is as essential as athletic preparation.

Jennifer Guthrie receives funding from the Canada Research Chairs program, the Canadian Institutes of Health Research, and the Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada.

– ref. When norovirus hits the Olympics: The science behind the spread – https://theconversation.com/when-norovirus-hits-the-olympics-the-science-behind-the-spread-275782

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Adam Ali, Assistant Professor, School of Kinesiology, Western University

On Feb. 12, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) banned Ukrainian skeleton athlete Vladyslav Heraskevych from competition for wearing a helmet that featured images of fellow Ukrainian athletes who had been killed in Russia’s invasion of his home nation.

According to the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, close to 15,000 Ukrainian civilians have been killed and 40,000 have been injured since Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022.

Over the past four years, more than 450 Ukrainian athletes — including those adorned on Heraskevych’s helmet — have been killed, with many more injured or left with long-term disabilities.

The IOC’s decision has once again placed the Olympic movement at the centre of a longstanding debate over neutrality, political expression and human rights.

Neutrality and expression

The IOC stated that Heraskevych violated the athlete expression guidelines, saying:

“It is a fundamental principle that sport at the Olympic Games is neutral and must be separate from political, religious and any other type of interference. The focus at the Olympic Games must remain on athletes’ performances, sport and the harmony that the Games seek to advance.”

The IOC’s current rules on athlete expression stem from Rule 50 of the Olympic Charter, which doesn’t permit any kind of “demonstration or political, religious or racial propaganda” in Olympic areas.

The IOC’s decision has already been decried as unlawful and discriminatory by legal and human rights experts, who argue that it is inconsistent with the IOC’s application of its own policies in other instances.

For example, Italian snowboarder Roland Fischnaller displayed a Russian flag on his helmet, even though Russia’s national symbols were officially banned at the Games.

After Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the IOC initially barred Russian athletes from competing under their national flag but later permitted some to participate as neutral athletes. This has drawn criticism, particularly in cases where Russian athletes have been linked to activity supporting the war in Ukraine.

While some might justifiably point to contradictions in the application of Olympic rules on athlete expression, as well within the policies themselves, the IOC’s decision illuminates a longer-standing concern.

As many scholars, activists and others have argued for decades, the IOC, with its current structure, is ill-equipped to provide global leadership in promoting peace and human rights through sport.

The limits of the Olympic Truce

This contradiction can be traced as far back as the Olympic Truce, first instituted in the 9th century BC in ancient Greece. In its contemporary form, the truce is intended to protect “as far as possible, the interests of the athletes and sport in general, and to harness the power of sport to promote peace, dialogue and reconciliation.”

In practice, however, peacemaking has been more of a rhetorical than actualized endeavour within the Olympic movement. The IOC frequently emphasizes sport’s perceived ability to help athletes and fans from different parts of the world overcome prejudice and discrimination through the Olympic Games.

Yet this key part of the Olympic mission is complicated by the IOC’s wish to maintain its image as an “essentially apolitical international organization, as political scientist Liam Stockdale has noted.

Maintaining a politically neutral stance while claiming to promote peace in global conflicts — such as the ongoing Russian invasion of Ukraine — is both contradictory and a purposeful form of naivete that allows the IOC to “sportswash” its way to further fill its financial coffers.

Although the IOC has often remained silent — and at times restricted athletes’ voices — on matters of social justice and human rights, its sanctions on Russia demonstrate that it is willing to take explicit positions when it deems necessary.

This stands in stark contrast to its banning of Heraskevych for highlighting the costs of Russia’s military adventure — Ukrainian lives.

Double standards at play

The debate over neutrality has also extended beyond Ukraine. The IOC has faced intense criticism over its continued silence towards Israel’s military campaign in Palestine following the Oct. 7, 2023 attacks by Hamas.

Israel’s actions have been described as constituting genocide by human rights organizations Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, an independent United Nations commission and academic experts.

Hundreds of Palestinian athletes have been killed in Israeli attacks, according to the Palestine Olympic Committee and the Palestinian Football Association.

Committees, sport clubs, scholars and other advocates have called for Israel to be banned from the 2024 Paris Games and the current Winter Games in Italy.

To date, however, the IOC has not imposed restrictions on Israeli athletes or officials, maintaining its position that the Games must remain politically neutral. This reveals the IOC’s double standards in determining whose human rights and livelihoods are worth speaking up for, and whose they consider disposable.

Such actions mean it’s that much more imperative for athletes like Heraskevych to continue using one of global sport’s largest spectacles to shed light on atrocities taking place in Ukraine, Gaza and elsewhere, while athletic feats are celebrated on the ice, slopes and half-pipes in Italy.

Adam Ali 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 IOC’s ban of a Ukrainian athlete over his helmet reveals troubling double standards – https://theconversation.com/the-iocs-ban-of-a-ukrainian-athlete-over-his-helmet-reveals-troubling-double-standards-275896

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Gwendolyn Blue, Professor, University of Calgary

The Canadian government’s recent approval of the first gene-edited animal to enter the food system has reignited debates over whether foods produced using genetic engineering techniques should be labelled.

Gene-edited animals, including faster-growing fish, heat-tolerant cows and disease-resistant pigs, have already been approved in the United States, Japan and several countries in South America. These decisions, including Canada’s approval, were made with limited public awareness and input.

Advocacy groups such as the Canadian Biotechnology Action Network, political parties including the Bloc Québécois and organic pork producers are calling for mandatory labelling of gene-edited meat in Canada.

Public demand

Public opinion research indicates that many Canadians view labelling gene-edited foods as essential. Polling commissioned by the Canadian Health Food Association suggests many Canadians want greater transparency about the use of gene editing for food production.

Studies in the United States also suggest that consumer acceptance increases when the benefits of gene editing are clearly communicated.

Similarly, a survey commissioned by the company that developed Canada’s first approved gene-edited pig found that many Canadians would consider purchasing gene-edited pork if health and environmental benefits were delivered.

Why label gene-edited meat?

Food labelling serves multiple purposes: it provides information about a product’s ingredients and the production methods involved. Labels also play a democratic role by promoting transparency and accountability. This in turn allows consumers to make choices that reflect health considerations as well as their ethical, political and environmental values.

Debates over the labelling of gene-edited meat often hinge on tensions between ethical principles such as protection and autonomy. On the one hand, governments are tasked with protecting the food supply and ensuring food safety. On the other hand, individual consumers have the right to know how food is produced and to make choices accordingly.

Proponents of labelling argue that consumers have a fundamental right to know what’s in their food, how it was produced and what potential risks are involved.

With gene-edited meat, public concerns include health and safety risks, as well as environmental consequences, animal welfare, corporate control of the food system via patents and licensing and threats to food sovereignty.

For example, gene-edited animals could potentially be harmed by unintended consequences, including off-target side effects. It is imperative to ensure traceability in commercial settings with clear mechanisms to report on animal health and welfare.

By enhancing consumer choice, labelling can also foster market competition.

Opponents of labelling argue that gene-edited foods are scientifically proven to be safe and that labelling could mislead consumers into assuming there is a risk where none exists. They argue that labels can create fear and confusion, potentially undermining the adoption of breeding techniques that could enhance health, reduce environmental impacts and improve food security.

Labelling also has political consequences. Market-based approaches shift responsibility to individual consumers, which can foreclose other avenues for collective decision-making about how food systems should be governed.

Mandatory versus voluntary labelling

Canada currently doesn’t require the labelling of genetically modified (GMO) or gene-edited foods. Under the Food and Drugs Act, labelling is mandated only when a product poses a health or safety concern.

This is at odds with approaches elsewhere. For example, the U.S. National Bioengineered Food Disclosure Standard requires companies to label genetically engineered foods, while decisions about the labelling of gene-edited foods are made on a case-by-case basis.

In Canada, voluntary labelling is permitted provided it’s truthful and not misleading. The Canadian Standards Board, scheduled soon to cease operations due to budget cuts, provides guidance on voluntary labelling for genetically engineered foods. Notably, its definition of genetic engineering excludes both conventional breeding and gene editing.

The Canada organics sector relies on voluntary non-GMO food labelling. Similar to international organic standards, certified organic products in Canada prohibit the use of genetically engineered and gene-edited seeds, feed and food.

Following Health Canada’s approval of gene-edited pigs in January, organic pork producer duBreton introduced Canada’s first verified non-gene-edited and non-cloned meat label.

This proposed label was also a response to a now-paused federal proposal to exclude cloned animals from the definition of novel foods, a move that would allow cloned meat to enter the market without consumer or government notification.

A lack of public engagement

The labelling of gene-edited meat raises several questions. Food labels can support consumer autonomy and transparency, but labels are not good at conveying complicated information. Labels also privilege market forces for making collective decisions, instead of other democratic processes such as public deliberation and stringent regulation.

In a regulatory context that largely promotes biotechnology while offering few opportunities for meaningful public engagement, it remains unclear whether labelling is the most effective democratic approach to gene-edited meat in Canada.

As gene-edited animals potentially become more common in global food systems, the question is not just whether to label these products, but which political opportunities labelling creates or restricts — and for whose benefit.

Gwendolyn Blue receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council. She is also affiliated with the Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council funded training program, Genome Editing for Food Security and Environmental Sustainability (GEFSES).

– ref. Gene-edited meat in Canada: To label or not to label? – https://theconversation.com/gene-edited-meat-in-canada-to-label-or-not-to-label-274904

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Tamara Krawchenko, Associate Professor, School of Public Administration, University of Victoria

In the past year, leaders of Alberta’s main separatist organization have travelled repeatedly to Washington, D.C., for quiet meetings with senior American government officials in the Treasury and State departments. They’ve reportedly discussed everything from adopting the American dollar to building an independent Alberta military.

These highly unusual interactions — which prompted Canada to warn the Donald Trump administration to respect Canadian sovereignty — are unfolding just as a new Angus Reid poll shows 29 per cent of Albertans would vote, or are inclined to vote, for separation if a referendum were held today.

This is a clear minority, but it’s also an indication of some discontentment. The more interesting question is why a province that has long been among Canada’s richest feels so hard done by that some are willing to contemplate breaking up the country.

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Read more:
What if Alberta really did vote to separate?

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Alberta defies the usual template

Andrés Rodríguez‑Pose, a professor of economic geography at the London School of Economics, argues that populist eruptions are rooted in regions suffering persistent economic decline, demographic loss and a pervasive sense that they have been “left behind” in a globalized economy.

In Europe and the United States, voters in deindustrialized regions have used the ballot box to punish political leaders for abandoning them. The core grievance is material and territorial: my region is poorer, ignored and slipping further behind.

Alberta does not fit that template.

Its economy has grown faster than any other province since 1950, and it still sits near the top of Canada’s income and employment league tables, even after oil price shocks.

In fact, a central anomaly of Canadian federalism is that Alberta’s economic heft far exceeds its population and representation in Ottawa, feeding a sense of under‑recognized importance rather than marginality.

Alberta is not a place that “doesn’t matter” economically; the anger of those who want to separate stems from believing it matters a great deal and is nonetheless disrespected.

A long history of grievance politics

To understand today’s sovereigntist turn, we need to situate it in Alberta’s political culture. For nearly a century, Alberta political leaders have fused populism, “western alienation” and oil politics into a powerful narrative about Ottawa exploiting the province’s resources.

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Alberta has long accused Ottawa of trying to destroy its oil industry. Here’s why that’s a dangerous myth

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From Social Credit premiers William Aberhart and Ernest Manning through to Progressive Conservative Peter Lougheed, provincial governments portrayed hard‑working Albertans as besieged by federal political leaders and eastern “money powers” siphoning off “their” oil wealth.

That story hardened during the National Energy Program in the 1980s and was revived against former prime minister Justin Trudeau’s climate policies and carbon pricing, which UCP governments portrayed as an attack on a fossil‑fuel‑based way of life.

Recent scholarship shows how this individualism, free‑market ideology and fossil‑fuel identity has been continually updated through the Reform Party, the “firewall” letter, Jason Kenney’s “Fair Deal Panel” and, most recently, Premier Danielle Smith’s Alberta Sovereignty Within a United Canada Act.

Alberta’s sovereigntist politics are therefore less an aberration than a radicalization of longstanding themes: populist anti‑elite rhetoric, resentment of Ottawa and a deep attachment to oil and gas.

The Alberta Prosperity Project

The Alberta Prosperity Project (APP) crystallizes this paradox. Its leaders speak the language of hardship and urgency — “we see the writing on the wall” — and claim Alberta must seize “freedom, prosperity and sovereignty” from a confederation that no longer shares its “values” and “entrepreneurship.”

Their draft fiscal blueprint, The Value of Freedom, promises that independence would unleash tens of billions in savings, eliminate personal income tax, slash other taxes and transform Alberta into “the most prosperous country in the world.”

Central to this case is the complaint that Albertans pay too much to Ottawa and get too little back in return — especially through equalization and other transfers. In this telling, sovereignty — or at least a radically “restructured” relationship with Canada — is the only way to stop Ottawa from siphoning off the fruits of Alberta’s oil.

Yet this narrative glosses over Alberta’s own choices. During boom years, successive Conservative governments — strongly backed by many of the same constituencies now drawn to sovereigntist rhetoric — cut taxes, kept royalties comparatively low and resisted building a large, Norway‑style savings fund.

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Read more:
Alberta budget means Albertans are trapped on a relentless fiscal rollercoaster ride

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At the same time, Alberta chronically under-invested in health care, education and social services relative to its fiscal capacity, leaving systems stretched even before the COVID-19 pandemic. When oil prices fell, the result was not simply federal neglect but the exposure of a model that had privileged low taxes and immediate consumption over long‑term resilience.

In other words, the Alberta Prosperity Project is right that Albertans feel squeezed — but its account of who did the squeezing is selective. Sovereigntists who blame Ottawa and equalization for every shortfall ignore the role of provincial policy in creating the ongoing boom-and-bust cycle in Alberta.

‘Fossilized’ regionalism

Another source of discontent lies in the collision between Alberta’s oil‑dependent economy and the global climate transition.

Scholars say Alberta regionalism is “fossilized” — decades of political and economic investment in oil and gas have locked in expectations about jobs, identity and provincial autonomy.

As federal and international climate policies intensify, many Albertans interpret decarbonization as a threat. In a 2023 poll, three in five Albertans said they believe the province is right to resist the federal government’s net-zero goals.

The fear is not that Alberta has been excluded from growth, but that it will be deliberately left behind in the next economy while its existing wealth is constrained or stranded.

The Alberta Prosperity Project’s fiscal plan doubles down on hydrocarbons, promising prosperity through continued or expanded oil and gas development while railing against “externally imposed limits” on emissions.

Idiosyncrasies

The Alberta Prosperity Project embodies the idiosyncrasies of this approach. It calls for an independent, low‑tax petro‑state, denounces federal redistribution and promises world‑leading prosperity. Yet it rarely acknowledges that the same political camp has historically opposed higher royalties, stronger stabilization funds and robust social investment when times were good.

It presents the climate transition as an illegitimate imposition rather than a predictable structural shift that responsible governments could have prepared for.

Recent revelations that APP leaders have been workshopping state‑building with senior U.S. officials shows this isn’t just a symbolic protest, but an attempt to secure external backing for an oil‑centred future that Canada’s constitutional order and climate obligations cannot sustain.

Alberta’s sovereigntist discontent is a three-way collision: long‑cultivated politics of grievance against Ottawa; a self‑inflicted fiscal and social vulnerability rooted in decisions made during boom years; and a global energy transition that threatens a deeply embedded regional identity.

The danger? In insisting on a future of perpetual oil‑funded prosperity while railing against transfers and federal authority, movements like APP offer Albertans a superficially compelling story that cannot be reconciled with either Canada’s Constitution or the realities of a warming world.

Tamara Krawchenko is a Research Lead with the University of Victoria-led Accelerating Community Energy Transformation initiative; a Research Fellow with the Institute for Research on Public Policy; an expert panelist with the Canadian Climate Institute and; a board member with Ecotrust Canada.

– ref. As Alberta separatists court the U.S., prosperity is fuelling a sovereigntist turn – https://theconversation.com/as-alberta-separatists-court-the-u-s-prosperity-is-fuelling-a-sovereigntist-turn-274914

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Taylor McKee, Assistant Professor, Sport Management, Brock University

As the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milan Cortina unfold, the world is once again turning its gaze to the podium. But for most nations, the importance of the Olympics extends well beyond medals.

The Games are a place where nations tell stories about themselves: who belongs, who represents them and how secure that nation feels in the world. National sporting events offer a way to make abstract ideas like sovereignty and belonging visible.

As humanities scholar Homi K. Bhabha argues in his book on nationhood, nations are not fixed entities, but are continually retold, like stories. The Olympics provide one of the most visible stages for nations to shape narratives about themselves.

At a time when Canada and other countries are feeling pressure about their sovereignty, the Olympic Games are taking on heightened symbolic meaning.

But Indigenous athletes, in particular, reveal the limits of using sport to perform national unity, and show how multiple sovereignties continue to exist within “Team Canada.”

Forging a nation through sport

One of the earliest Canadian sports stories ever told was explicitly about forging something new under the weight of empire. In 1867, days after Confederation, a working-class crew from Saint John, New Brunswick, competed in rowing at the Paris Exhibition, a world’s fair held in France.

The “Paris Crew” quickly became a national symbol, not just because they won, but because the victory felt like a young country holding its own against an older imperial world. It became a story of Canadians carving out space on an international stage that was not designed with them in mind.

Over time, what it meant to see Canada represented in sport started to change. By the early 2000s, a familiar insecurity lingered.

This sentiment did not survive Canada’s exceptional performance at Vancouver 2010 when the country won a historic 14 gold medals.

In the lead-up to those Olympics, the federal government invested heavily in a high-performance system built to deliver medals. Even the name of the initiative — Own the Podium — put it plainly. Excellence was no longer a wish for Canada, but the standard, and the resources followed.

When sovereignty feels unsettled again

Today, the ground feels less stable again. Canada’s relationship with its closest ally, the United States, is under intense strain due to ongoing tariff disputes and repeated threats to Canadian sovereignty from the American president.

Canadians are testing their mettle by discerning whether they have the skills and endurance to publicly defend and perform sovereignty on the national stage.

Sport is an ideal forum for this because it’s already built as a competition among national units, even when lived reality is far more regional and local.

This renewed attention to sovereignty can feel like a throwback to the Paris Crew moment, when defeating bigger powers looked like a form of self-determination.

Dual narratives

The effort to balance the complexities of national pride and sovereignty under a colonial shadow takes on even more complexity through the participation of Indigenous athletes.

Following Alwyn Morris and Hugh Fisher’s 1000-metre sprint kayak gold medal at the 1984 Summer Olympics, Morris gave an eagle feather salute to his grandfather. This moment is widely remembered as a positive example of Indigenous resurgence through sport, and a reclaiming of cultural space.

At the same time, as Morris himself has explained, the gesture was a reminder that Indigenous identity does not dissolve into “Team Canada,” even during moments many Canadians want to read as uncomplicated unity.

That is why Morris’s salute still matters. It shows how representation can hold two truths at once. Morris was awarded gold while wearing red and white, but he claimed his win as one for “the other part of who [he] is,” showing how Indigenous sport stories cannot be reduced to a single national storyline.

Indigenous resistance through sport

Perhaps the longest-running example of Indigenous resistance through sport is the Haudenosaunee Nationals lacrosse team, which competes internationally as a sovereign nation.

Contemporary lacrosse reflects a version of the sport that is much different than what Haudenosaunee People have traditionally revered as a “medicine game.” In the late 1800s, when “The Creator’s Game” was colonized and rebranded as “Canada’s National Game,” Indigenous peoples were barred from competition.

Today, the Haudenosaunee Nationals are the only sports organization in the world to compete in international competitions while representing an Indigenous confederacy as a sovereign nation.

Representing the Haudenosaunee, the Nationals embody Indigenous reclamation and resurgence. With lacrosse returning to the 2028 Summer Olympics, the Haudenosaunee’s claim for sovereignty is once again on the line.

Canada’s national story

For most Canadians, international sport is the easiest place to feel the nation in real time. A flag goes up. An anthem plays. A medal table is refreshed. In a few minutes of speed, grace and accuracy, complicated questions about history, economy and belonging collapse into a simple narrative.

Through these articulations of Indigenous sovereignty, representation and resurgence, Indigenous athletes have reminded “Team Canada” why this narrative isn’t as simple as it feels. For Indigenous Canadian athletes, participation is about representing the communities that came together to believe in them.

It’s about celebrating family strength, healing inter-generational trauma and leading a new path. It’s about resisting threats to sovereignty and reclaiming what was taken away.

That is exactly why sport becomes so charged when Canadians feel our sovereignty is under pressure, whether that pressure is literal, symbolic or both. In sport, athletes are asked to do more than win medals — they are asked to stand in for Canada itself and to reassure audiences that the country is coherent, respected and capable of protecting what is considered ours.

Taylor McKee receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada

Janelle Joseph receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council.

Lucas Rotondo 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 Indigenous athletes challenge simple ideas of national unity at the Olympics – https://theconversation.com/how-indigenous-athletes-challenge-simple-ideas-of-national-unity-at-the-olympics-274408

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Myriam Denov, Professor and Canada Research Chair in Children, Families and Armed Conflict, McGill University

Editor’s note: This story is the first in a series of articles from Canada’s top social sciences and humanities academics. Click here to register for In Conversation with Myriam Denov, Feb. 25 at 1 p.m. ET. This is a virtual event co-hosted by The Conversation Canada and the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

From Gaza to Ukraine and from Sudan to Myanmar, war rages across the globe, exacting its gravest toll on those least implicated in the violence: children. Today, an estimated 520 million children worldwide — or one in six — live in conflict zones. Yet even when fighting subsides and peace agreements are signed, violence doesn’t always end. War’s impact endures.

Northern Uganda provides a case in point. During the decades-long conflict from 1987 to 2006, the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), led by Joseph Kony, was formed to overthrow the Ugandan government and became well-known for the atrocities and war crimes it committed against civilians. The LRA abducted an estimated 80,000 children into armed conflict — a tactic meant to terrorize communities and swell the LRA’s ranks.

“Rose,” for example, was just 14 years old when the LRA abducted her from school in the mid-1990s. For eight years, she was held captive, forced to fight, coerced into a so-called “marriage” with an LRA commander and subjected to relentless abuse, including sexual violence. Her daughter, Grace, was born of that violence. Grace spent her early childhood in LRA captivity amid brutality, hunger, bombardment and displacement.

When Rose courageously escaped the LRA with Grace after eight years in captivity, they returned not to support but to rejection. Their community viewed them with fear and suspicion. Grace was stigmatized at school, within her extended family and in the wider community, branded “Kony’s child” after the rebel leader. Without stable housing and repeatedly displaced, Grace was forced to leave school and sell goods in the marketplace to support her family.

One day on her long rural walk to the market, the unimaginable happened. Grace was raped, later learning that she was pregnant as the result of the rape. In 2018, and still a teenager, Grace gave birth to Alice, a third-generation child whose life has already been shaped by a war that officially ended years earlier.

War does not end with ceasefires, but is transmitted across generations through stigma, violence, poverty and social exclusion. And despite their inherent connection to conflict, children born of war remain largely invisible in post-conflict discussion and justice efforts.

The war after the war

Sexual violence has long been used as a weapon of war. In recent years, the world has begun to acknowledge its devastating consequences for survivors, including physical injury, psychological trauma, economic marginalization and social exclusion. What remains far less visible are the intergenerational legacies of these crimes, particularly for children born of wartime sexual violence.

My ongoing research with children and youth like Grace shows they often face challenges strikingly similar to those of their mothers.

Many struggle to feel they belong, either within their families or their communities. They are frequently subjected to stigma and rejection. This stigma takes the form of being labelled “violent,” “dangerous” or “rebel children,” who are said to be cursed with “bad spirits” within their families, communities, schools and peer groups. This makes it difficult to develop a secure belonging and identity.

These children are also more likely to experience family and community violence and to encounter barriers to education, health care, land, inheritance, employment and legal rights.

Grace described the hostility she continues to face — and how the violence does not necessarily stop with the second generation — in stark terms:

“Life is hard here because people stigmatize us … they have turned their hate against us. In my family, they hate those of us who were born in captivity. My uncle beats us and said he would kill us. He doesn’t want rebel children, Kony children, at home … I know my child will face stigma. As long as my family is not willing to accept me, I believe they will reject my child as well.”

Rose also fears that Alice will one day inherit the same stigma, echoing Grace’s concerns:

“I feel it is possible my grandchild may be stigmatized because of my daughter’s past. They will say, ‘You see this beautiful child? Her mother was born in the bush.’”

For these families, war has not ended, it has simply changed shape. As one young man in my research who was born of sexual violence during wartime put it: “The war that we are now faced with is stigma.”

How resilience is passed down

And yet violence and devastation are not the whole story. Recognizing intergenerational harm does not mean reducing these families and their lineage to trauma alone.

Across generations and alongside profound loss, there is also resilience, resolve and an unyielding determination to build a different life.

Children born of war in northern Uganda are acutely aware of the sacrifices their mothers made to keep them alive. One young man recalled his mother’s escape from the LRA, carrying him through the bush while evading armed fighters, surviving on stolen cassava and refusing to leave his side even when confronted by death. “She held my hand,” he said. “She never left me.”

These memories of protection and survival are not just recollections of pain, they are sources of strength. Many children draw on them to imagine a future not defined solely by violence. Despite poverty, ostracism and ongoing marginalization, Grace spoke with clarity about what she wants for Alice:

“I want my child to be a doctor. I will support my child in every way possible to achieve this dream.”

This capacity to endure, adapt and hope is not accidental. It reflects what I have described as intergenerational resilience — the ways families transmit strength, meaning and survival strategies across generations, even in the aftermath of extreme violence.

Like a family heirloom, this resilience is forged through collective experience and memory. It equips young people with tools to confront adversity and reframes resilience not as an individual trait, but as a relational and intergenerational process rooted in family bonds and care.

What recognition makes possible

Too often, children born of war are reduced to dehumanizing labels in the countries where the war/genocide has occurred, often referring to them as “children of hate” or “bastards.” Such portrayals obscure both the violence that produced their marginalization and the extraordinary capacities they demonstrate to survive it.

If we continue to treat war as something that ends when peace agreements are signed, we will fail generations of children like Grace and Alice. Post-conflict recovery efforts, transitional justice processes and humanitarian responses must reckon with the fact that war’s harms are cumulative and intergenerational. This requires the meaningful inclusion of children born of war in reconciliation processes, reparations, community sensitization efforts and formal recognition in inheritance and citizenship law.

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Read more:
Why Canada must step up to protect children in a period of global turmoil

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This also means addressing stigma as a form of ongoing violence, ensuring access to education, employment and legal rights for children born of war and recognizing them not as symbols of past atrocities, but as rights-bearing individuals with futures worth investing in.

As one young participant who is part of my ongoing research in northern Uganda declared, reclaiming a narrative so often denied to them: “We are the light that came out of darkness.”

Intergenerational harms are not unique to northern Uganda, they are unfolding wherever war engulfs children today. And if we are serious about ending war’s toll on children, we must listen — and act accordingly.

Myriam Denov receives funding from the Social Science and Humanities Research Council of Canada, and the Canada Research Chair Program.

– ref. The war after the war: How violence is passed down through generations – https://theconversation.com/the-war-after-the-war-how-violence-is-passed-down-through-generations-273669