Category: The Conversation – Canada

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Margaret McKinnon, Professor and Homewood Research Chair in Mental Health and Trauma, Department of Psychiatry and Behavioural Neurosciences, McMaster University

Although mass shootings and gun violence have long plagued American communities, events like yesterday’s mass shooting at a high school in northern British Columbia are rare in Canada.

Following this tragedy, our communities may feel less safe and we may worry about family and loved ones.

The mental health and well-being of many Canadians will be impacted by this mass victimization event, including students and teachers present during the attack and their families, friends and peers. Supporters, including first responders and victim support providers, may also experience mental-health difficulties in the aftermath of the shooting.

Many survivors of mass shootings will experience symptoms of post-traumatic stress, anxiety and depression following the incident, with symptoms persisting one year or longer in a smaller group of survivors.

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Read more:
I research mass shootings, but I never believed one would happen in my own condo in Vaughan, Ont.

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Reactions to traumatic events

Reactions to traumatic events may manifest as emotional, cognitive, interpersonal and physical symptoms.

Emotionally, individuals may become more irritable, experience trauma-related nightmares or struggle with feelings of guilt for not having done more to prevent or mitigate the event.

Cognitive reactions can involve difficulties with concentration, memory or making decisions.

Interpersonally, trauma survivors may find it harder to trust others who were not involved in the incident, or they may notice increased tension and conflict within family relationships.

Physical reactions can include gastrointestinal issues, headaches and difficulty sleeping.

Women, younger Canadians, and people belonging to racial and ethnic minorities are more likely to experience mental-health difficulties following exposure to gun violence.

The mental health and well-being of these groups, along with that of all survivors, should be carefully monitored, and early access to mental-health and well-being supports provided.

Community impacts

Communities are also impacted by mass shootings, including via mental distress associated with fear and anxiety and through school and business closures.

These impacts can persist past the immediate aftermath of the incident, pointing to the need for not only individual mental-health supports for survivors and supporters, but also public health interventions that can support the needs of the community.

Following mass victimization events like school shootings, promoting a sense of physical and emotional safety and providing opportunities for social support from family, friends and the community can assist in healing.

This may include providing for physical needs, such as blankets, and nourishing food, as well as promoting community connection through groups and organizations. Metaphorically speaking, it’s important for survivors and their supporters to remember to put their oxygen mask on first to best assist others.

Family support also contributes to recovery. Parents are encouraged to provide warmth and support, spend time and encourage talking to one another, and maintain routines and social connections as much as possible.

Support network resource

For a directory of mental health services across Canada, a mental health self-assessment tool and individual and community mental health tool kits, see
The Canadian Emergency Response Psychosocial Support Network (CanEMERG), which can can connect you with mental-health resources from coast to coast to coast.

CanEMERG was developed at McMaster University and is supported by financial contributions from the Public Health Agency of Canada.

Margaret McKinnon receives funding from the Public Health Agency of Canada, the Canadian Institutes of Health Research, National Defence, Veterans Affairs Canada, the Canadian Institute of Military and Veteran Health Research, the Worker’s Safety Insurance Board, Homewood Health and Homewood Research Institute, the AllOne Foundation, the FDC Foundation, the True Patriot Love, the Military Casualty Support Foundation, the Cowan Foundation and St. Joseph’s Healthcare Hamilton.

– ref. Tumbler Ridge shootings highlight the need for mental health support for survivors and their community – https://theconversation.com/tumbler-ridge-shootings-highlight-the-need-for-mental-health-support-for-survivors-and-their-community-275766

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Emma G Duerden, Canada Research Chair, Neuroscience & Learning Disorders, Associate Professor, Western University

Alarm clocks, maps, books, flashlights, watches, radios, MP3 players, Palm Pilots, remote controls, cameras, handheld recorders and other devices have all been gradually absorbed into a single one: the smartphone.

This convergence has brought unparalleled convenience into our fast-paced lives. Free internet-based calls and messaging, navigation, documentation, entertainment and even authenticator apps required to access work email have become essential daily functions and tasks.

For most of us, smartphones are no longer optional; they’re constant companions that have restructured how we work, communicate and move through the world.

Yet, as smartphones have become increasingly central to everyday life, a counter-trend has begun to take shape. In an effort to combat the attentional drain of smartphones, teens and young adults are deliberately reintroducing single-purpose technologies into their lives.

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Revival of single-use devices

Single-use devices include basic mobile phones with limited functionality (“dumb phones”), standalone digital and film cameras, MP3 players and iPods, e-readers such as Kindles and even paper planners and physical alarm clocks.

Several overlapping factors appear to be fuelling this move to digital minimalism. One is digital burnout and choice overload. Smartphones collapse multiple roles into a single interface, making it difficult to disengage from them. Persistent notifications and algorithmically curated feeds intensify this effect.

Rather than abandoning technology altogether, people are increasingly seeking to use it with greater intention. Instead of accumulating thousands of photos and screenshots on their phones, many young adults are purchasing cameras to capture the important moments, people and places in their lives.

Likewise, there’s a resurgence in iPod and MP3 player sales. These devices allow people to listen to music without advertisements, notifications or algorithmic recommendations.

Patterns of smartphone use help explain why such alternatives are appealing. Not surprisingly, mobile phone use has increased year after year for Canadian adults from 3.2 hours a day in 2019 to 5.65 hours 2023.

A 2022 Statistics Canada report found just over half of Canadians said they checked their smartphone first thing in the morning, and the last thing before bed. Forty-three per cent said they typically check their smartphone at least every 30 minutes.

Canadian adolescents are among the most digitally dependent, with a smartphone penetration rate of 87 per cent in 2021 and about  88 per cent of those aged 15 to 24 reporting that they check their phones at least once every hour.

Mobile phones and screens are deeply embedded in daily life globally. Worldwide, the average person now spends nearly six to seven hours a day looking at screens, with most of that time spent on mobile devices at almost four hours a day on phones alone.. In countries like the Philippines, Brazil and South Africa, daily mobile screen time regularly exceeds five hours.

By comparison, those in the United States and United Kingdom tend to spend slightly less time on their screens, but still a significant proportion of their waking hours engaged with digital devices.

A new trend or old habit?

The turn toward single-purpose devices may appear to be a reaction to smartphones specifically, but efforts to unplug from technology long predate them.

Organized “cellphone free” days were already being promoted as early as the 2000s, already fuelled by unease with “always available” connectivity. What has changed in recent years is not the desire to step back, but who is being most affected and what they are stepping away from.

Today’s single-use movement is being driven largely by people who are deeply embedded in digital work and culture: international workers, those who are self-employed, professionals, those working in creative industries, students and parents.

Research on digital disconnection shows that people are most likely to disengage when they experience persistent time pressure, cognitive overload, blurred work–life boundaries or emotional fatigue from constant exposure to online content.

In that sense, the turn to dumb phones, dedicated cameras or e-readers is less about nostalgia and more about an attempt to use digital tools that help us focus and create, rather than platforms that are designed to constantly capture our attention.

Stepping back from screens

Reducing screen time and social media use can have profound benefits on cognition and well-being. One study found that limiting social media use to around one hour per day reduced symptoms of anxiety, depression and fear of missing out, while improving sleep among young people aged 17 to 25.

Another study blocked internet access on participants’ smartphones for two weeks. A staggering 91 per cent of participants reported improvements in their mental health, life satisfaction and ability to sustain attention, with the effects comparable to reversing 10 years of age-related cognitive decline.

Participants spent more time socializing, exercising and spending time in nature, all of which are associated with improved well-being.

Research on forced digital disconnection also offers insight into the immediate effects of removing internet-enabled devices. In Swedish detention centres, for example, inmates are issued basic mobile phones with no internet access. Ethnographic research shows this eliminated compulsive phone checking and made communication slower and more deliberate.

While the context is extreme, it highlights that once devices designed for endless engagement are removed, patterns of attention and behaviour can change almost immediately.

Thinking of unplugging?

Voluntary forms of disconnection have started gaining traction. Digital detox retreats, for instance, offer a chance to step away from the constant pull of online life. Whether in off-grid cabins or rural retreats, these escapes allow time for reading, board games, cooking and nature walks. They offer a deliberate pause from the looming sense of urgency to be online and the pressure to perform for an audience.

If you’re curious about experimenting with single-purpose devices, a full break from smartphones isn’t necessary. Many people begin by identifying the functions that feel most disruptive, such as social media or constant messaging and relocating others to separate tools.

Simple steps include using an e-reader for reading, a standalone alarm clock to keep phones out of the bedroom or a dedicated music player for commuting.

A more moderate approach includes installing an app that can monitor screen time use, like Brick, or switching smartphone displays to greyscale to mitigate distractions and boost focus by removing colours that grab attention and trigger dopamine loops.

If all the hours spent scrolling were suddenly yours, an entire extra month a year, what would you do with that time? Perhaps it’s time to think about stepping off the feed and reclaiming the moments that are intrinsically meaningful and chosen by you.

Emma G Duerden receives funding from the Canada Research Chairs program.

Rubina Malik 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. Burned out by smartphones, young people are choosing flip phones, cameras and MP3 players instead – https://theconversation.com/burned-out-by-smartphones-young-people-are-choosing-flip-phones-cameras-and-mp3-players-instead-273545

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Tandeep Sidhu, Assistant Professor, Department of Sociology and Criminology, University of Manitoba

The Toronto Police Service is embroiled in an unprecedented crisis following a criminal investigation that led to several officers being charged with a list of drug trafficking, theft, conspiracy, fraud and other offences related to an organized crime investigation.

Project South was a seven-month long investigation that disrupted a criminal network that used information supplied to them via police databases.

The details of Project South were disclosed during a news conference that featured senior police officers bizarrely wearing bullet-proof vests. The core of these allegations involve claims of officers leaking information to this network that contributed to a series of violent crimes, including a conspiracy to murder a correctional officer.

Image management strategies activated

Toronto police Chief Myron Demkiw promised that no stone would be left unturned in the investigation and said the actions of a few officers did not define the force. He requested an independent external investigation before announcing the Project South charges.

The head of the Toronto Police Association, Clayton Campbell, similarly said there is “nothing our members hate more than a corrupt cop.”

Ontario’s inspector general of policing announced the province will lead a review of police services to address corruption in policing.

These public statements and requests for a probe are best understood through the lens of police image management, which refers to the array of what are essentially marketing strategies employed by police services to maintain their public image.

The police employ a series of strategic communications in times of crisis, and in their routine corporate communications, to convey a curated image to the public. Like other public relations strategies, this can obscure systemic issues in policing.

The statements from Demkiw and Campbell serve several functions, all of which are intended to safeguard the public image of policing. They disavow the charged officers, protect the reputation of the larger policing community and demonstrate a public-facing commitment to change.

Demkiw’s request for an external investigation, outlined during the news conference, is a strategy that allows the Toronto Police Service to be seen as taking the issue seriously and pre-empts public calls for such a response.

Police misconduct in Toronto and beyond

Allegations of misconduct against the Toronto Police Service have persisted for decades and include charges of corruption, theft, evidence management, misleading the court and fraud, among other offences.

A 2020 study investigating the experiences of inner-city Toronto residents subjected to police raids also demonstrated that allegations of theft, violence and intentional property damage are commonplace.

Some researchers have argued that a double standard exists for police services in terms of officers accused of corruption and other forms of misconduct. They argue that police often demand harsh sentences and punishment for members of the public, but face less severe consequences when misconduct is addressed internally.

A lesser-known form of police misconduct surrounds the abuse of police databases. Officers across Canada have used databases to stalk former partners, interfere in investigations for friends and family, form intimate relationships, access the personal information of and monitor lawyers and leak information.

While Campbell noted that searches on police databases leave digital footprints, this does little to prevent their abuse.

Like ticket-fixing, database abuse is difficult to detect. The true scope of database abuse is immeasurable, owing to the vast volume of data and searches officers perform, which makes it difficult to distinguish legitimate policing activity from illegitimate activity. What is known about its prevalence should be regarded as the tip of the iceberg.

Why bother?

So what value does an “independent” probe into Ontario police services offer? Considering the hard-to-detect nature of many forms of police misconduct, the efficacy of such an initiative is debatable.

There is also an inherent contradiction at play. The probe is being directed at all Ontario police services, suggesting that these forms of misconduct are systemic.

But Ontario Premier Doug Ford referred to a “few bad apples” in response to the public uproar following the Project South charges, suggesting there’s no systemic issue in place.

So why launch such an expansive probe that will likely cost taxpayers millions of dollars if these acts of misconduct are limited to a select few officers?

Demkiw’s request for an independent probe is an admission that police misconduct is systemic, but places the onus for repair onto an independent institutional body. As I’ve argued previously, police services cannot be trusted to repair these issues. This strategy not only allows police forces to appear as though they take internal corruption seriously, but insulates them from future criticism when officers engage in misconduct.

Considering there are already calls for Demkiw to resign, inaction would mark the end of his career.

Nonetheless, while the probe promises to investigate the “totality of the landscape” of policing in Ontario, the public should regard these efforts as a form of image management that insulates police forces from serious, genuine scrutiny.

Better ways to prevent corruption

While the police are mitigating the damage stemming from Project South, the question of how to prevent these abuses arises.

The existing mechanisms for detecting database abuse, for example, are inherently reactive. These issues are brought to the attention of the police following the misconduct.

One strategy to address this issue is a more robust system of random audits that function as a general “integrity check” on the police use of databases. This would function in tandem with a requirement that officers provide a detailed explanation of why searches on people are performed, creating a more substantive digital footprint that may be audited.

This strategy will inherently be met with resistance from police unions and researchers who partner with the police who have drawn attention to the occupational stress stemming from police reporting requirements.

But the research drawing attention to report writing and its proposed relationship to occupational stress fails to adequately consider that report writing is not only an expected function of the police — it may also be a critical avenue for accountability.

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. Toronto’s Project South charges point to systemic issues beyond police corruption – https://theconversation.com/torontos-project-south-charges-point-to-systemic-issues-beyond-police-corruption-275408

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Paul Hamilton, Associate Professor of Political Science, Brock University

National Flag Day, Feb. 15, marks the 61st anniversary of Canada’s Maple Leaf. Fading in the public consciousness are the debates that accompanied Prime Minister Lester B. Pearson’s proposal to replace the Red Ensign in the 1960s.

Of course, Canada isn’t the only state to have considered changes to its national flag. There are numerous example of flags redesigned to reflect a variety of political agendas.

Flags are treated with reverence in public ceremonies. As we’re witnessing as we take in this year’s Winter Olympic Games, flags brand a nation. They serve as a symbol uniting diverse populations of citizens who share this instant sign of belonging.

Irish political scientist Benedict Anderson referred to these populations as “imagined communities” united by symbols, mass media and myth. Flags are great examples of what British social psychologist Michael Billig refers to as “banal nationalism”. But while flags are often taken for granted, proposals to redesign them can arouse great passion.

Canada versus New Zealand

The Canadian process differed from New Zealand’s, which is interesting since the two cases share so much else in common.

Canada and New Zealand are both British settler states with large Indigenous and immigrant populations. Neither achieved independence by revolution and both retain strong ties to the Commonwealth.

These ties have been reinforced by the First and Second World Wars, when Canadians and New Zealanders shed blood with Great Britain.

Canada became self-governing in 1867, but relied on Westminster to pass constitutional amendments until 1982. New Zealand became self-governing in 1907, but only ended Britain’s role in some legislative matters in 1986.

Both countries also experienced a post-war reassessment of their ties to their colonial pasts, evident in the Union Jack occupying the upper left quadrant of each flag. But the efforts to redesign the Canadian and New Zealand flags followed different pathways.

In the case of Canada, the process ended with an entirely new flag. In the case of New Zealand, the status quo prevailed.

Canadian debate

The debate in Canada was dominated by political leaders, accompanied by lively coverage in the media. Conservative John G. Diefenbaker defended the status quo, while Pearson championed a new design.

The question was whether the new flag should represent a fresh start or retain symbols of a colonial past. Polls revealed that about half of Canadians wanted a new flag, enough to engage politicians but not enough to establish a clear direction.

Canada’s flag debate, which inspired the longest parliamentary session in history, was the country’s top news story of 1964. Politicians tinkered with designs to appease British imperialists, Québec and those who wanted something new.

After more than 200 Conservative speeches — and on the recommendation of the 15-member all-party committee — Parliament voted 163 to 78 in favour of the new flag in December 1964.

The flag was raised for the first time on Feb. 15, 1965. When Diefenbaker died in 1979, his coffin was draped with both the Maple Leaf and the Red Ensign, the symbol he fought so hard to keep, perhaps signalling a societal transition.

According to a recent poll, the flag is now the national symbol that Canadians are most proud of (79 per cent).

New Zealand votes

Unlike Canada, New Zealand held a public consultation about its proposed flag redesign involving two referendums in 2015-16.

The rationale for change was similar to Canada’s but also inspired by mix-ups where the New Zealand flag was mistaken for the Australian one. The referendum was promised by John Key’s National Party after it won the 2014 general election.

A public consultation attracted 10,292 designs, including one featuring a Kiwi firing a laser from its eyes.

Voters were asked to select one of five designs in the first referendum held in November and December 2015. The winner, featuring a silver fern and no Union Jack, was then pitted against the official flag in the second referendum held from March 3-24, 2016. Ultimately, almost 60 per cent of voters chose to keep the official flag that had been adopted in 1902.

In Canada, there was little consultation with Indigenous Peoples about the new flag.

In New Zealand, Maori voters mainly supported the status quo, partly out of a concern with the connection to the British monarchy, the guarantor of the Treaty of Waitangi. A new flag without a Union Jack could have signalled a step toward republicanism and a weakening of Maori political rights and status.

National identity

In both countries, the chance to change the flag represented an opportunity to reflect on their national identity. The New Zealand process took public opinion seriously, but binary referenda may not be the ideal method for choosing a new flag and turnout was low (67 per cent).

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Read more:
Next wave: what Australia can learn from New Zealand’s flag referendum

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In the Canadian case, it seems highly unlikely that such an important change would be enacted today by a simple vote in the House of Commons. A third option, for any country, would be a citizens’ assembly that could deliberate over a longer period and solicit the views of all community members.

A flag is not just a national garment; it’s the national self-portrait. Debates about designs are debates about who we are and can arouse great passion. Such debates are not trivial — they’re essential parts of the evolving nation-building project.

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. Flag politics in Canada and New Zealand resulted in drastically different outcomes – https://theconversation.com/flag-politics-in-canada-and-new-zealand-resulted-in-drastically-different-outcomes-274905

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Sonia S Anand, Associate Vice-President Global Health, McMaster University

Most Canadians either know personally or are aware that getting an appointment with a family doctor can be difficult. Across the country, it’s estimated that 6.5 million people do not have a family doctor or nurse practitioner they see regularly.

For women who live on the margins — those experiencing poverty, racism, trauma, care-giving stress or unstable housing — the barriers to care are even greater.

From adolescence through to mid-life, such women often put their own health needs last. Even if they have a family doctor, the structural realities of care — uneven geographical access, long waits, limited appointment slots and rigid scheduling systems — are difficult for most people to navigate. For women with limited resources of income, time and agency, the barriers to access are, too often, insurmountable.

Life satisfaction is lower among women in Canada than men, and serious conditions such as cardiovascular disease, cancer or reproductive health problems are often diagnosed late. For many women, cultural norms may make it difficult to raise issues such as sexual health, contraception or depression within a 15-minute medical visit, especially if they lack language or gender concordance with their family doctor.

The World Health Organization (WHO) estimates that primary care can deliver more than 90 per cent of essential health services, but only if people can access it. For women who live on the margins, gaining this access is difficult.

Real-world needs not met

In 2023, the federal government’s agreement with the provinces committed to expanding access to family health services, especially in rural and remote areas, and to supporting health workers while reducing backlogs.

Under this plan, Ontario was designated receive $2.5 billion between 2023 and 2026 to strengthen family health services, including $90 million specifically to expand inter-professional primary care teams in high-need communities and to help existing teams manage rising costs.

Ontario’s Primary Care Action Plan has committed to incentives and investments to improve rates of attachment to team-based primary care. But it’s not clear if these can overcome the barriers for marginalized women.

There are other forces that impact the availability of access to family physicians. Studies from the United States indicate that if primary care physicians followed every preventive and chronic-care guideline, they would need 27 hours a day — more than half of that devoted to prevention alone.

The system as designed may not be able to meet the real-world needs of patients, especially those with complex social and health circumstances.

A bridge to access: Learning from global innovation

Women on the margins often experience stigma, mistrust and have a scarcity mindset, and are unable to prioritize their own health needs. As a result, they end up in walk-in clinics or emergency departments at a late stage of serious illnesses. Our current system — stretched and time-deficient — is not optimized for preventive, trust-based, community-embedded care.

As physicians and population health researchers, we propose importing and adapting a proven innovation from the Global South — the Community Health Worker model, first endorsed by WHO and UNICEF in the 1978 Alma-Ata Declaration.

A community health worker (CHW) is typically a trusted member of the local community who understands the challenges of those who are sick or socially excluded. With targeted training, CHWs can conduct basic health screenings for conditions such as high blood pressure, diabetes, breast and cervical cancer, and reproductive and mental health problems.

Importantly, CHWs act as bridges to primary care physicians, meaning when a woman’s screening reveals a concern, the CHW can prioritize her for a physician review. This approach builds trust, continuity and access — creating the “first mile” of connection to the health system for women who might otherwise remain invisible.

Unlike nurses, CHWs do not require professional credentials, though many have college or allied-health backgrounds such as a personal support worker or occupational therapy assistant. Their greatest assets are trust, cultural competence and mobility — the ability to meet marginalized women where they are at.

Implementation is key

The CHW model has the potential to deliver community-based, first-contact access — what we call “A Bridge to Access.” These workers can provide the first mile of care, ensuring that prevention, screening and support reach the women who need it most.

While CHWs can be equipped with digital or artificial intelligence (AI) enabled screening tools to optimize the connection with care, technology should complement — not replace — human connection. Digital tools can support communication and record-keeping, but relationships and trust remain the foundation of effective care.

Money alone cannot fix Canada’s patchwork health-care system of today. Funding is necessary, but innovation is essential. The CHW model — an evidence-based success in countries from India to Indonesia — represents an opportunity for reverse innovation: bringing proven global strategies from the Global South to Canada.

If implemented well, CHWs have the potential to strengthen first-contact accessibility, foster trusting relationships and deliver person-centred, integrated care. For women on the margins, this could mean earlier diagnosis, greater continuity and restored faith in a system they currently cannot access easily.

Testing and evaluating the CHW model in Canada offers a path to close the health-equity gap for women and other underserved populations. If successful, it could be scaled across provinces, contributing to a stronger, more inclusive health-care system — one that delivers on prevention, screening and primary care for those most in need.

Sonia Anand receives funding from Public Health Agency of Canada, and the CIHR. She receives speaking honoraria from pharmaceutical companies. She volunteers for the Heart and Stroke Foundation of Canada.

Gina Ogilvie receives funding from Canadian Institutes of Health Research.

Cathy Risdon 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. For women who live on the margins, health care is often out of reach. Here’s how we can build a bridge to access – https://theconversation.com/for-women-who-live-on-the-margins-health-care-is-often-out-of-reach-heres-how-we-can-build-a-bridge-to-access-273453

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Julie McCarthy, Professor of Organizational Behavior and Human Resource Management, University of Toronto

As loneliness reaches epidemic levels worldwide, work has become one of the main settings where connection is either strengthened or lost. In 2023, Vivek Murthy, the former surgeon general of the United States, labelled loneliness an “epidemic,” warning that its consequences rival those of other major health risks.

This concern is echoed globally. The World Health Organization now estimates that roughly one in six adults worldwide experience significant loneliness.

Work sits at the centre of this crisis. For most adults, work is the primary social environment outside of family and close friends. Drawing on a comprehensive review of more than 200 studies, my colleagues and I synthesized decades of research across the fields of management, psychology and health.

We found that loneliness at work is not a marginal or temporary issue, but a systematic and consequential feature of modern working life. It shapes employee wellbeing, behaviour and performance in ways that extend well beyond the individual.

Why workplace loneliness matters

To understand why workplace loneliness matters, it helps to recognize that loneliness is a complex experience. It emerges when people perceive a gap between the social connection they want and what they believe they have. Because it is subjective, people can feel lonely even in busy, collaborative workplaces.

Loneliness is inherently distressing, but it does not remain confined to emotions. It shapes how people think and behave, influencing attention, motivation and everyday interactions at work.

Loneliness also differs in duration and form, with important implications. For some employees, loneliness is temporary, triggered by transitions such as starting a new role or moving into leadership. In these cases, loneliness can sometimes prompt reconnection.

For others, loneliness becomes chronic, settling into a self-reinforcing pattern that is harder to reverse and more damaging over time. These distinctions help explain why loneliness affects employees and organizations so differently.

Psychological and performance costs

The consequences of loneliness at work are both personal and organizational.

Employee well-being erodes. Loneliness, much like chronic stress, places sustained strain on people’s mental and emotional capacities. Research consistently links workplace loneliness to emotional exhaustion, psychological distress and feelings of alienation.

Loneliness has also been associated with physiological stress responses, including heightened cortisol levels. Beyond strain, loneliness also reduces positive emotions, life satisfaction and a sense of meaning, while increasing negative emotional experiences.

Engagement and effectiveness may also decline. Research consistently shows that lonely employees are less engaged in their work. They are more likely to withdraw from their roles, invest less energy and reduce their overall contribution to organizational outcomes.

Loneliness is also associated with impaired cognitive functioning, including diminished focus and concentration, which undermines productivity.

Behaviour and organizational outcomes

The psychological effects of loneliness have clear downstream consequences for behaviour, performance and health.

Workplace performance can suffer, as loneliness is negatively related to both self-reported and supervisor-rated job performance. Lonely employees have been found to be less committed and are often perceived as less approachable, which can translate into lower performance evaluations. There is also evidence that loneliness is associated with reduced creativity at work.

Research links workplace loneliness to higher levels of counterproductive work behaviours, including cyberloafing, problematic internet behaviours, poorer cybersecurity practices and higher absenteeism.

Loneliness is also associated with a diminished capacity for self-regulation, which plays a critical role in controlling attention, emotions and behaviour at work. When self-regulation is compromised, employees may struggle to stay focused and manage emotional responses effectively.

Health can also be affected. Loneliness is consistently linked to poorer mental and physical health. Among working adults, loneliness is associated with psychological distress, while broader research shows that loneliness is related to mental health difficulties.

How to reduce loneliness at work

Research points to several evidence-based approaches that can reduce loneliness when implemented thoughtfully. First, providing social support is one of the most reliable ways to reduce loneliness, particularly for people already at higher risk. Peer mentoring, group-based support and structured opportunities for connection are especially effective because they create safe environments where relationships can develop.

Building social skills also helps. Loneliness is not always about a lack of opportunity; it can also reflect difficulty initiating or sustaining social connections. Interventions that strengthen interpersonal skills, such as communication and relationship-building, can reduce loneliness by helping people feel more confident and about social interactions at work.

Volunteering reduces isolation. Volunteering has emerged as a particularly promising strategy for reducing loneliness. Engaging in meaningful, pro-social activities outside one’s core role can strengthen social bonds and increase feelings of connection, making it a valuable component of broader organizational strategies.

There is also growing evidence that mindfulness-based approaches can reduce loneliness by targeting unhelpful thought patterns, such as negative self-talk and pessimistic expectations about others. By encouraging present-focused awareness, mindfulness can help disrupt these patterns and support more adaptive social engagement.

Rethinking the design of work

The prevalence of loneliness at work raises a deeper question about the kind of workplaces we’re creating. Environments that consistently reward speed, output and constant availability without equal attention to connection can unintentionally foster isolation, even among highly capable and committed employees.

It is critical that employers design workplaces that allow people to belong as well as perform. Intentionally structuring work to include things like peer support programs, collaborative team rituals and opportunities for mindful focus can strengthen social connection while also improving engagement and performance.

Organizations that take this seriously are not just responding to a social problem but are investing in healthier, more resilient ways of working.

Julie McCarthy receives funding from SSHRC.

– ref. Loneliness at work matters more than we think – https://theconversation.com/loneliness-at-work-matters-more-than-we-think-265845

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Nicholas Marcelli, PhD Candidate in English Literature and Creative Writing, Queen’s University, Ontario

In an age of inequality and exploitation, a 1906 novel that exposed hazardous working conditions and unsanitary practices in Chicago’s meat-packing plants at the turn of the 20th century still pops up in discussions about unjust labour.

A 2025 Current Affairs story about health problems for workers in poultry and pork processing plants reported on by the U.S. Department of Agriculture suggests “we never left Upton Sinclair’s Jungle”.

A 2024 book, Barons: Money, Power, and the Corruption of America’s Food Industry explains how the Department of Labor’s discovery, in 2022, that “a contractor hired … to clean slaughterhouses employed over a hundred children in ‘hazardous occupations’ seems as if it came “straight out of ‘The Jungle.’”

What is it about Upton Sinclair’s 120-year-old novel that endures?

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Read more:
Radicals in the Democratic Party, from Upton Sinclair to Bernie Sanders

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Novel’s origins

In 1904, Sinclair was commissioned by an editor of the socialist newspaper the Appeal to Reason to write a novel about wage slavery. Sinclair reveals in his autobiography that he chose the Chicago stockyards as its setting because of a recent failed strike led by the Amalgamated Meat Cutters and Butcher Workmen of North America.

Beginning in October 1904, Sinclair lived for seven weeks among those he described as the “wage slaves of the Beef Trust” and went undercover in the plants by posing as an employee. He began writing on Christmas Day 1904, and three months later, the book was complete.

The Jungle appeared serially in the Appeal to Reason from February to November 1905 before being published as a full-length novel by Doubleday, Page & Co. in February 1906.

Harrowing conditions

The book tells the story of Jurgis Rudkus, who is drawn to the stockyards by the promise of wealth after immigrating with his family from Lithuania to Chicago’s Packingtown neighbourhood. When family members, including the children, find work in the plants, they experience harrowing conditions.

As tragedy befalls them, the novel becomes a condemnation of early 20th-century capitalism, ultimately celebrating the virtues of socialism.

Although Sinclair’s novel is not without its flaws — for example, an unnamed critic in the March 3, 1906 edition of The New York Times wrote Sinclair’s “art is too obvious, his devices too trite” and “there is nothing spontaneous in the book save his imaginative descriptions of human misery” — the book portrayed vivid scenes.

Notably, The Jungle depicted child labourers, primarily Stanislovas Lukoszaite, a 14-year-old member of the family who is sent to work in a lard-canning factory.

Novel’s reception

While The Jungle was a novel, it simultaneously continues to be regarded as one of the most significant pieces of muckraking journalism —
pre-First World War writing concerned with exposing hardships or corruption and promoting social and political reform.

In journalism historian Bruce J. Evensen’s book, Journalism and the American Experience, he describes how Sinclair had hoped that when the novel was published, “it would expose the deplorable working conditions of killing and cutting gangs. Instead, it was his frightful description of food processing that provoked public outrage.”

This misplaced attention famously led Sinclair to declare in his autobiography: “I aimed at the public’s heart, and by accident I hit it in the stomach.”

All but one of Sinclair’s claims were proven true in a special investigation into the Chicago stockyards conducted in June 1906 at the request of President Theodore Roosevelt. Investigators confirmed the unsanitary working conditions in the meat-packing plants, but made no reference to child labourers.

In author Jack London’s review of The Jungle for Wilshire’s Magazine, he called the book “the ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’ of wage slavery,” a reference to Harriet Beecher Stowe’s 1852 novel, first serialized in an abolitionist newspaper.

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Read more:
How ‘Uncle Tom’ still impacts racial politics

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London described how Sinclair “painted a horrifying picture of the industry, which still haunts the American imagination.”

Depictions of child labourers

I contend that the endurance of The Jungle in the current popular imagination stems from its representation of children’s work in the meat-packing industry, particularly at a time, as Sinclair writes in the novel, when packers “worked all but the babies.”

Children were seen as essential because, as described by a character in the novel, Grandmother Majauszkiene, “there was always some new machine, by which the packers could get as much work out of a child as they had been able to get out of a man, and for a third of the pay.”

When Sinclair was writing, there may have been anywhere between 700 and 1,600 children under 16 years old working in the plants. Economist Edith Abbott, drawing from the 1905 Census of Manufacturers, writes that out of 74,134 employees nationwide, 974, or two per cent, were children.

Scant statistics around working children

In my doctoral research, I have found there are few statistics on the number of children working in meat-packing plants during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, either due to the lack of reporting or efforts by employers and families to avoid child labour laws. This view is reaffirmed by Sinclair’s contemporary, Algie Martin Simons, in his 1906 pamphlet, “Packingtown.”

Because of the scant statistics and lack of accurate reporting or testimony from child workers in the meatpacking plants of the early 20th century, The Jungle, as a literary work, is an important piece of evidence that children worked in these plants at all.

Today, advocacy groups like the Economic Policy Institute and The Child Labor Coalition and journalists who include Alice Driver and Hannah Dreier have been documenting the ongoing, simultaneous rise in child labour law violations. There has been a decrease in labour law protections — not just in meatpacking and agriculture, but in industries throughout the U.S.

The continuous necessity of reporting on child labour law violations reaffirms the view that we never left The Jungle.

‘The Jungle’ continues to resonate

Ultimately, while The Jungle has maintained a 120-year legacy as a buzzword for child labour and exploitative labour practices more broadly — in addition to its exposé of early 20th century meatpacking — my interest in the text stems from Sinclair’s work as author and mediator who represents exploitative labour to the public.

How does he, as someone who only lived in Packingtown for seven weeks, portray the workers and the community they belong to, or depict the abuse of workers? What issues are raised around fact-based reporting and fictionalization?

The same questions, of course, are relevant for all reporting and narratives, especially about exploited and marginalized groups.

Nicholas Marcelli has received an Ontario Graduate Scholarship from Queen’s University and the Province of Ontario to fund his doctoral research.

– ref. ‘The Jungle’ at 120: How a 1906 novel continues to surface in discussions about unjust labour – https://theconversation.com/the-jungle-at-120-how-a-1906-novel-continues-to-surface-in-discussions-about-unjust-labour-265234

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Maha Khawaja, PhD Student, McMaster University

Do you know how you prefer to give and receive love? Do you need words of affirmation? Spending quality time? Acts of service? Gifts? Or physical touch?

Figuring out what your “love language” is has become one of the most successful relationship ideas of the past two decades.

Why? Because the idea is simple, flattering and easy to apply.

Introduced by Gary Chapman, an American Baptist pastor, author and marriage counsellor, in his 1992 book The 5 Love Languages: The Secret to Love that Lasts, the idea is now a dominant framework in modern relationship advice.

While incredibly popular and often used as a “go-to” tool on first dates, recent research suggests that the idea lacks strong scientific evidence for its central claims.

Instead of scientific theory, love languages function like a culturally appealing system that individualizes relational strain, obscures power and substitutes a checklist for the harder work of understanding how relationships actually function over time.

A simple idea replacing scientific evidence

That popularity of love languages is exactly what makes them an archetype of bad pop psychology as they package a complex set of relational processes into a simple idea, providing a memorable vocabulary, and then get treated as explanation, diagnosis and solution all at once.

Most notably, this framework emerges from a pastoral counselling context rather than systematic research, and its core claim — that people have a stable primary language that should be matched for relational success — doesn’t apply well to how relational needs operate.

People typically value all five domains: quality time, words of affirmation, receiving gifts, acts of service and physical touch. They shift depending on stress, life stage, illness, caregiving demands and conflict history.

What gets named as a “primary” language is often better understood as a moving indicator of current deprivation — “this is what I’m not getting” — and not a durable trait. Because the categories are broad and emotionally resonant, they also invite the Barnum effect, in which the model feels deeply accurate precisely because it is flexible enough to fit most people most of the time.

When intimacy becomes a simplified checklist

Another problem with the five love languages is what they do to how people think about relational support. They turn intimacy into a problem of translation: if you just deliver the right behaviours in the right format, your partner will feel loved.

That can push couples toward transactional care (“I did your language, so you should be satisfied”) and away from curiosity and context (“What is happening for you this week? What support do you actually need?”). It also promotes a form of individualization in which relational issues become framed as mismatched preferences instead of relational processes that require ongoing work.

Once the label enters the relationship, it can function like a conversational dead end.

It also doesn’t seriously address conflict regulation, responsiveness or how couples cope under stress, all of which are areas where relationship science has far more to say. Many “love language” conflicts are not actually about the absence of gifts or affirmation, but are about chronic misattunement, uneven emotional labour, perceived disregard or an unsafe climate.

The structural conditions love languages ignore

Love languages can also obscure power and normalize inequality.

Some categories are easily folded into gendered divisions of labour, like how acts of service and emotional affirmation often land on women as feminized care work, while other partners receive the benefits without addressing uneven burdens.

The framework also sidesteps structural constraints like poverty, disability, illness, class and religious norms that shape what is possible.

When someone is overworked, sick or carrying the relationship’s invisible labour, the problem is rarely that their “language” is being spoken incorrectly. It is that relational and structural conditions make mutuality difficult, and “speaking languages” can become a way to manage the symptoms while leaving the conditions untouched.

The model is also particularly risky where consent and vulnerability are involved. Physical touch as a love language, for example, can be used to moralize access to someone else’s body, especially in contexts of sexual pleasure, coercion, post-partum recovery, trauma or chronic pain.

What sustains relationships beyond labels

The love languages framework tends to treat touch as an unambiguous good instead of a context-sensitive practice shaped by consent, safety, timing and bodily autonomy in health contexts like having cancer, disability, medication changes and depression. Intimacy largely shifts because bodies and conditions shift.

A model that encourages partners to “deliver touch” can easily misfire when what’s needed is patience, alternative sexual scripts and co-ordinated coping, not increased physical contact as proof of love.

Above all, love languages only thrive because they are marketable. They offer the satisfaction of self-knowledge, compatibility narratives and quick fixes.

Relationships, of course, are not solved by personalization alone. Importantly, they are shaped by mutual responsiveness, practical and emotional equity, the ability to repair after harm and the capacity to adapt to changing bodies and lives.

If love languages are useful at all, it is as a thin starting vocabulary for talking about care, and not as a diagnostic framework or substitute for confronting misattunement, power and the real conditions that make intimacy sustainable.

Maha Khawaja 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 seductive simplicity — and danger — of pop psychology’s ‘love languages’ – https://theconversation.com/the-seductive-simplicity-and-danger-of-pop-psychologys-love-languages-273296

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Tanya Joseph, PhD Student, Faculty of Education, Queen’s University, Ontario

As I walk into the classroom as a newly graduated teacher, I see children — each with unique abilities, interests and an eagerness to learn. This Ontario classroom was designed to be inclusive — a space where all students, regardless of their needs, can thrive.

Yet, as an educator, I find myself asking: Am I truly prepared to support every child? Have I received the training I need to guide each student on their learning journey including students with disabilities such as Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD)?

Many teachers entering the classroom after graduating from teacher education programs in Ontario will ask similar questions.

In the past, schooling for students with disabilities was accomplished through segregated education. However, in the last 20 years, Ontario has reformed its educational structure to include all students within the general education classroom.

In accordance with Ontario education policies, classroom teaching must be designed for all students and inclusive approaches must be used to mitigate discrimination and exclusion. One way educators seek to meet the needs of many diverse learners is through implementing frameworks like Universal Design for Learning or “differentiated instruction” in their classrooms.

Yet despite expanded teaching approaches and policy changes, a dual system still exists that involves children with disabilities such as FASD being excluded from the rest of the class.

Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder

FASD is a condition that occurs due to maternal alcohol consumption during pregnancy. As a consequence, children are born with brain damage and delays in neurodevelopment.

FASD may be the most prevalent disability in Canadian classrooms. FASD affects between 1.4 per cent and 4.4 per cent of the population in Canada — a prevalence greater than Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD), Down Syndrome and Cerebral Palsy combined.

FASD affects each individual in varied ways, and each person has unique strengths and faces varied challenges. Children with FASD exhibit a range of symptoms and varying degrees of impairment, including difficulties with motor skills, sensory processing, communication, academic achievement, memory, executive functioning, abstract reasoning, hyperactivity and adaptive behaviour.

As children with FASD experience academic difficulties and behavioural challenges, they require multifaceted supports, including instruction tailored to their unique learning profiles, individualized academic interventions and modified curricula aligned with the child’s developmental and ability levels.

Teachers must be responsive to the needs of students with FASD and proactive in providing supports to promote students’ success.

Teacher knowledge of FASD

In teacher education programs, teacher candidates receive training through a combination of coursework and placements. Although courses offered to teacher candidates that reflect special education may be compulsory, explicit instruction on specific disabilities, such as FASD, may be limited.

Currently, there is a lack of research completed in Ontario reflecting how teachers are prepared to support students with FASD. To gain deeper insight into the nature of teacher candidates’ knowledge and understanding of FASD — and their preparedness to teach these students — I collected data using a questionnaire administered to final year teacher candidates graduating in 2024 in a teacher education program accredited by the Ontario College of Teachers (OCT).

In this questionnaire, I examined teacher candidates’ knowledge, confidence in that knowledge, self-efficacy and overall preparedness and readiness to support students with FASD as they enter the profession.

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Read more:
The truth about fetal alcohol spectrum disorder

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Preliminary findings revealed teacher candidates reported feeling inadequately trained to support students with FASD, and most reported that they had not discussed FASD in their teacher education programs.

Experiences with disabilities were variable and specific knowledge of the needs of students with FASD was limited. While teacher candidates possessed knowledge of strategies to support students with disabilities such as ASD and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, they were largely unaware of the challenges faced by children with FASD.

Further learning opportunities

Although teacher candidates were familiar with Universal Design for Learning and differentiated instruction, they need to be flexible, prepared to advocate for their students and able to adapt these frameworks to the individual needs of students with FASD.

These teachers may face the challenge of supporting a child with FASD in their first year of teaching.

The assumption that teachers are ready upon entering the classroom with the training they receive must be revised. Additional curricular and/or learning opportunities should be provided that are responsive to teachers’ particular contexts to further develop their knowledge and preparation, including around strategies to support a child with FASD.

Resource to support children with FASD

As teacher candidates continue to prepare to support students with FASD in the classroom, it is necessary to review the curriculum taught in teacher education programs to ensure that FASD is discussed with emphasis on the nature of the condition and best practices to support the child.

A valuable resource for both teacher candidates and current teachers in the classroom is the Canada FASD Research Network, which provides evidence-based information on FASD.

This resource includes past and current research completed in Canada, and provides tools and resources for parents/caregivers, educators and professionals who may support individuals with FASD.

An earlier version of this article was published in the Queen’s University Knowledge Forum.

Tanya Joseph 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 most prevalent disability in classrooms may be FASD — and supporting students is vital – https://theconversation.com/the-most-prevalent-disability-in-classrooms-may-be-fasd-and-supporting-students-is-vital-272553

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Erica Kilius, Assistant Professor of Anthropology, University of Northern British Columbia

In northern climates, February has a particular heaviness. Even though we’ve passed the longest night of year, the days often feel darker, longer and more draining than December ever did. For society’s “night owls,” whose internal clocks naturally run later, this stretch of winter can be especially challenging.

As a biological anthropologist who studies sleep (and a night owl living in the North), I see this unfold every winter, and science offers a clear explanation for it.

The major reason can be found in our circadian system, the body’s internal 24-hour clock, which relies on morning light to stay aligned with the Earth’s day. After months of dim, delayed sunrises, that system is running low on the cues it needs to keep us alert and energized.

To understand this winter misalignment, it helps to look at our evolutionary history. Early human ancestors evolved near the equator, where sunrise and sunset are consistent throughout the year. In this stable environment, daylight serves as a reliable zeitgeber (German for “time giver”), synchronizing our internal clock to the external world.

But at higher latitudes, the light-dark cycle swings dramatically across seasons. Winter brings long nights, weak sunlight and more time indoors, and our internal clocks slowly drift later without that consistent morning light. Many people feel this misalignment as fatigue, irritability, low mood, difficulty waking or even difficulty falling asleep despite exhaustion.

These symptoms can intensify as winter progresses. Seasonal Affective Disorder, a seasonal pattern of depression, is more prevalent in northern regions.

February’s perfect storm

Our chronotype, or our biological preference for mornings (people known as “larks”) or evenings (night owls), can shape how strongly we feel these effects. It’s influenced by genetics, age and environment, and research has found that chronotype shifts later with increasing latitude. In other words, the farther north you live, the more likely you are to be a night owl.

This makes intuitive sense: when sunrise creeps toward 8 a.m., the body’s clock shifts later in response . The problem is that our social schedules don’t shift with it. School and work start times remain rigidly fixed, regardless of daylight hours.

In fact, our society is built around early chronotypes — it’s a lark-centred world — and these larks are often praised as disciplined or productive. In contrast, late chronotypes are often blamed for staying up late or struggling to wake on time.

But from an evolutionary perspective, chronotype variation may have been adaptive. The sentinel hypothesis proposes that having different chronotypes in a group staggers sleep and wake times across the night, thus helping early humans maintain vigilance against night-time threats.

We all had our shift on the night watch — a built-in, rotating system of protection in our species. Yet in the modern world, the strengths of night owls (including increased openness and extraversion) are often overlooked.

What’s important to note is that late chronotypes aren’t choosing a different schedule. They are biologically tuned to a later rhythm. Forcing them into early mornings creates what researchers call social jet lag — the chronic mismatch between biological time and social time.

Social jet lag is strongly associated with increased caffeine use and alcohol use, higher rates of smoking and greater risk-taking behaviours. The chance of being overweight has been found to increase by 33 per cent for every hour of social jet lag.

February creates the perfect storm: while limited daylight affects everyone, late chronotypes face the added burden of social jet lag layered with this circadian misalignment. So what does this mean for health, and in particular, getting through the dark days of February?

Winter strategies for night owls

There are several practical, evidence-based strategies that can help align our circadian rhythms and reduce social jet lag during this last sprint of winter.

First, seek morning light, even if it’s weak. Morning light is the most powerful signal that synchronizes your circadian clock. If you can, get outside within the first hour of waking. If you can’t, use bright, indoor light strategically: bright light therapy in the first 30 minutes of waking can help shift the circadian clock earlier and improve mood.

In the afternoons and evenings, switch to using warm-toned bulbs instead. And avoid blue light from screens in the last hour before going to bed, as it’s a known suppressant of melatonin (the “darkness” hormone).

For late chronotypes, it’s important to keep a consistent schedule. While sleeping in on weekends can help recoup sleep loss, it also unfortunately increases social jet lag. Slowly shifting your bedtime on weekends earlier by around 10-15 minutes can more closely align free- and work-day rhythms.

It’s also critical to work with your biological rhythms, not against them. Try to structure your workday strategically: hold off on cognitively demanding tasks until late morning or early afternoon, when your circadian rhythm (and thus your alertness) is at its peak, and reserve early mornings for simpler tasks.

Lastly, emerging findings suggest that saunas may play a beneficial role in sleep health. Something to consider on cold, snowy days.

February may feel long, but it’s also the turning point; the slow return of light is already underway.

For those who naturally run on later schedules, remember that your chronotype is not a character flaw. Late chronotypes are more common for us northerners, shaped by our genetics and the environment around us. The goal shouldn’t be to force ourselves into someone else’s rhythm, but to find ways to live in better alignment with our own biology and the world we inhabit.

Erica Kilius 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. February is hard on ‘night owls’ in northern climates, but there are ways to cope – https://theconversation.com/february-is-hard-on-night-owls-in-northern-climates-but-there-are-ways-to-cope-275047