Are harp seals responsible for the stalled recovery of Atlantic cod?

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Tyler Eddy, Research Scientist, Fisheries & Marine Institute, Memorial University of Newfoundland

In June 2024, the Canadian government lifted the moratorium on northern cod fishing in Newfoundland and Labrador after 32 years. The decision was controversial because cod numbers had not recovered since they collapsed in the early 1990s.

The collapse of Atlantic cod stocks in Newfoundland and Labrador had a huge impact on the economic and social fabric of the province. The subsequent fishing moratorium in 1992 put nearly 30,000 people in the province out of work.

Several explanations have been put forward for the stalled cod recovery, including environmental conditions, historical overfishing and prey availability.

Another explanation has identified predation by harp seals as the reason cod numbers have remained low. However, given the severity of historical overfishing that occurred, Atlantic cod population growth may be impaired by a number of factors.

The Northwest Atlantic harp seal population was estimated at 4.4 million in 2024, the second-largest seal population in the world. Fishermen have long been concerned about the amount of fish that harp seals consume. However, a 2014 Fisheries and Oceans Canada study concluded that harp seals do not strongly impact the northern cod stock.

The concerns of fishermen about the impact of seals on fish stocks were heard by the Canadian government. In September 2023, the Department of Fisheries and Oceans announced funding for independent seal science. It was through this funding opportunity that I recruited postdoctoral fellow Pablo Vajas and MSc student Hannah West to dive deeper into the issue.

Historical overfishing

The magnitude and duration of overfishing increase the time fish stocks need to recover. By 1993, northern cod had declined by 99 per cent of its historical biomass, while the other Newfoundland Atlantic cod stocks declined by 77 per cent to 95 per cent. During the fishing moratorium on the offshore fishing fleet, inshore and recreational fisheries continued to operate, but fisheries catches were very low.

Capelin, a small forage fish that is important prey for cod and other predators, is linked to cod population growth and is included in the northern cod stock assessment. Capelin also collapsed in the 1990s and has not recovered to pre-collapse levels, limiting ecosystem productivity. It remains unknown why capelin has not recovered.

Do harp seals eat more than fisheries catch?

Harp seals eat a range of items — their diet varies by prey availability, season, location and time. In our recently published study, we compared diet estimates from stomach content analyses from 7,710 harp seals as well as laboratory analyses of muscle tissue using fatty acids and stable isotopes.

In general, our findings told a consistent story: harp seals are generalists that eat a range of prey, including American plaice, Arctic cod, Atlantic cod, Atlantic herring, capelin, flounder, redfish, sand lance, shrimp, squid and zooplankton. We incorporated these results into a food-web model of predator and prey interactions to calculate the total harp seal consumption of prey and their contribution to mortality. We compared these consumption and mortality rates to those from fisheries.

Our analysis revealed that harp seals consume a higher biomass of shared target species than caught by fisheries. Harp seal consumption rates were 24 times higher than fisheries catch rates for Atlantic cod, Greenland halibut and American plaice from 2018 to 2020.

We also found that harp seals caused 17 times more deaths of shared target species than fishing did. Stock assessments have reported elevated levels of northern cod natural mortality since the collapse. Consistently, our research found that the impact of harp seals on other species in the ecosystem has increased since the fish stocks collapsed.

The harp seal population has declined by 41 per cent since 1998, when it peaked at 7.5 million. This has happened while the number of harp seals harvested for their meat and pelts has also declined. Harp seals have recently been listed as near-threatened by the International Union for Conservation of Nature due to Arctic sea ice loss.

Marine ecosystems in a changing world

Newfoundland and Labrador’s marine ecosystems are highly dynamic. Since the cod collapse, ecosystems have been less productive, leading to a declining harp seal population and limiting the recovery of collapsed fish stocks.

Despite the decline in harp seal numbers, our findings show that harp seal predation remains an important factor that should be included in Atlantic cod stock assessments.

It should be noted that climate change is an additional factor affecting marine ecosystems and fisheries. More than ever, it is crucial to track the productivity of fish stocks and marine ecosystems to achieve sustainable resource management.

The Conversation

Tyler Eddy receives funding from the Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada, Fisheries and Oceans Canada’s Sustainable Fisheries Science Fund, and the Canada First Research Excellence Fund.

ref. Are harp seals responsible for the stalled recovery of Atlantic cod? – https://theconversation.com/are-harp-seals-responsible-for-the-stalled-recovery-of-atlantic-cod-269337

The Canadian Museum for Human Rights finally grapples with the Nakba

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Jonah Corne, Assistant Professor in the Department of English, Theatre, Film and Media, University of Manitoba

Even as it claims to champion the stories of global injustice, the Canadian Museum for Human Rights (CMHR) has struggled, if not refused, to meaningfully acknowledge Palestine for more than a decade.

Its newly announced exhibition to launch in the summer of 2026 — Palestine Uprooted: Nakba Past and Present — marks a significant reversal for an institution that has often been criticized for its silences.

The omission of Palestinian history dates all the way back to before the museum’s official opening in Winnipeg in 2014, when Palestinian-Canadian community advocate Rana Abdulla replied, fruitlessly, to the museum’s call for suggestions for content.

After years of continued advocacy from the Palestinian community in Winnipeg and across Canada — and in the midst of so much tragedy and what a UN commission of inquiry has called genocidal violence in Gaza — the announcement comes as a remarkable sliver of good news.

The development is also surprising because the museum, Canada’s first federal one located outside the nation’s capital, has historically had difficulties with the living legacy of settler colonialism — a key issue in discussions about Palestine — in Canada.

Prior to construction, the museum was criticized for failing to provide sufficient funds for a full excavation of the archeological heritage on the sacred Indigenous site where the museum is located. Until the stance was reversed in 2019, the museum had resisted describing the experience of Indigenous Peoples in Canada in terms of genocide.

Naming Palestinian dispossession

Bringing exhibition-level attention to the massive dispossession of Palestinians that occurred by the founding of the state of Israel in 1948 — an event known as al Nakba (Arabic for “the catastrophe”) — emerges as an ethically and educationally responsible move for the museum. It also signals a shift under CEO Isha Khan, who came on board in 2020 in the wake of the museum struggling to present an accountable and consistent message of human rights.

Despite its recent recognition of Palestinian statehood, the Canadian government has repeatedly resisted calls to grant the Nakba, and by extension Nakba Day, official acknowledgement. Neither has the Nakba had a place in the curricula of Canadian schools.

The CMHR’s Nakba exhibit therefore stands as an important repositioning in relation to these concerning national absences.

Of course, we don’t know how the exhibit — slated to involve oral histories, art and artifacts — will turn out. But judging only the title, the naming of the Nakba is immensely consequential and allows an opening to inquire further into the constellation of terms — dispossession, ethnic cleansing, settler colonialism, occupation and genocide — that cluster around it.

Meanwhile, the word “uprooted” to describe what befell 750,000 Palestinians in 1948 is, if perhaps muted, not inaccurate.

Holocaust memory and Nakba denial

Pro-Israel groups have predictably condemned the museum’s announcement of the exhibition in statements consistent with a trend of Nakba denial in mainstream pro-Israel discourse.

What underpins such a trend, implicitly or explicitly, is a Zionist narrative that sees the Holocaust as both radically unique and as the ultimate justification for the founding of the Israeli state.




Read more:
The conflation problem: Why anti-Zionism and anti-semitism are not the same


Accordingly, to acknowledge the Nakba introduces a perceived impermissible rival to the Holocaust for suffering and remembrance, as well as a complicating factor that casts the founding of the Israeli state as something other than a strictly unimpeachable redemption for the Nazi genocide against Jews.

Attending to the Nakba requires that we see the creation of Israel as entailing a radical — and violent — escalation in a project of settler colonialism that, by 1948, had been underway for several decades, having received decisive momentum under the auspices of British colonialism from the Balfour Declaration of 1917.

This history deserves to be recognized, first and foremost for the sake of Palestinians living in and outside of Palestine who continue to endure the Nakba’s rippling aftermath. In addition, historical ignorance and amnesia are detrimental for the well-being of a society. Not to mention, the CMHR has an extensive and permanent Holocaust gallery.

This new exhibit might also help us to consider the ways in which the Holocaust and the Nakba can be thought of in constructive relation to one another. Such co-thinking is part of the project of an edited collection of essays, The Holocaust and the Nakba: A New Grammar of Trauma and History, where in the foreword, the late Lebanese intellectual, novelist and longtime activist for Palestinian liberation, Elias Khoury, articulates a compelling moral argument.

Khoury movingly affirms:

“The Holocaust is my responsibility as a member of the human race, despite it having been a product of European fascism. As such, my deeply ingrained moral duty is to be an active participant in the struggle against antisemitism as well as all other forms of racism anywhere in the world. This path leads me to continue the struggle against the Zionist colonialist occupation project in Palestine. Two wrongs do not make a right, one crime does not wipe out another, and racism is not remedied by counterracism.”

Khoury’s argument is consistent with what I have come to extract from the well-known mantra of Holocaust education, “never again.” I take the mantra’s lack of a specified referent as an open space where, without the burden of exact equation-drawing, one can speak out against racist, oppressive, eliminationist logics in any form that they may appear.

Historical accuracy and relevancy

Something must also be said about the claims by pro-Israel groups that the CMHR Nakba exhibition will be invalidatingly one-sided because of inattention to the Jewish (Mizrahi and Sephardi) displacement from Middle Eastern and North African countries in the wake of 1948.

The larger regional repercussions of the founding of the Israeli state bear no pertinence to the Palestinians’ own experience of dispossession: the focus of the exhibition and a topic that has been historically overlooked.

Moreover, the exoduses that occurred in Iraq, Yemen, Morocco and elsewhere were not perpetrated by Palestinians, so the call for “balance” in considering the Nakba vis-à-vis Mizrahi and Sephardi refugeehood is a non-starter.

In the face of such baseless attempts to cast doubt on the credibility of the exhibit, I hope that the CMHR will hold the line.

With its long overdue decision to engage substantially with Palestinians, who continue to endure a world-shaking crisis of displacement, occupation and genocide, the institution sets out on a crucial journey towards reestablishing its own credibility and fulfilling its ambitious aim of serving as a leading, capaciously inclusive space for exploring and educating about human rights.

The Conversation

Jonah Corne 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 Canadian Museum for Human Rights finally grapples with the Nakba – https://theconversation.com/the-canadian-museum-for-human-rights-finally-grapples-with-the-nakba-270351

The AI bubble isn’t new — Karl Marx explained the mechanisms behind it nearly 150 years ago

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Elliot Goodell Ugalde, PhD Candidate, Political Economy, Queen’s University, Ontario

When OpenAI’s Sam Altman told reporters in San Francisco earlier this year that the AI sector is in a bubble, the American tech market reacted almost instantly.

Combined with the fact that 95 per cent of AI pilot projects fail, traders treated his remark as a broader warning. Although Altman was referring specifically to private startups rather than publicly traded giants, some appear to have interpreted it as an industry-wide assessment.

Tech billionaire Peter Thiel sold his Nvidia holdings, for instance, while American investor Michael Burry (of The Big Short fame) has made million-dollar bets that companies like Palantir and Nvidia will drop in value.

What Altman’s comment really exposes is not only the fragility of specific firms but the deeper tendency Prussian philosopher Karl Marx predicted: the problem of surplus capital that can no longer find profitable outlets in production.

Marx’s theory of crisis

The future of AI is not in question. Like the internet after the dot-com crash, the technology will endure. What is in question is where capital will flow once AI equities stop delivering the speculative returns they have promised over the past few years.

That question takes us directly back to Marx’s analysis of crises driven by over-accumulation. Marx argued that an economy becomes unstable when the mass of accumulated capital can no longer be profitably reinvested.

An overproduction of capital, he explained, occurs whenever additional investment fails to generate new surplus value. When surplus capital cannot profitably be absorbed through the production of goods, it is displaced into speculative outlets.

Tech investments mask economic weakness

Years of low interest rates and pandemic-era liquidity have swollen corporate balance sheets. Much of that liquidity has entered the technology sector, concentrating in the so-called “Magnificent Seven” — Amazon, Alphabet, Meta, Apple, Microsoft, Nvidia and Tesla. Without these firms, market performance would be negative.

This does not signal technological dynamism; it reflects capital concentrated in a narrow cluster of overvalued assets, functioning as “money thrown into circulation without a material basis in production” that circulates without any grounding in real economic activity.

The consequence of this is that less investment reaches the “real economy”, which fuels economic stagnation and the cost-of-living crisis, both of which remain obscured by the formal metric of GDP.

How AI became the latest fix

Economic geographer David Harvey extends Marx’s insight through the idea of the “spatio-temporal fix,” which refers to the way capital temporarily resolves stagnation by either pushing investment into the future or expanding into new territories.

Over-accumulation generates surpluses of labour, productive capacity and money capital, which cannot be absorbed without loss. These surpluses are then redirected into long-term projects that defer crises into new spaces that open fresh possibilities for extraction.

The AI boom functions as both a temporal and a spatial fix. As a temporal fix, it offers investors claims on future profitability that may never arrive — what Marx called “fictitious capital.” This is wealth that shows up on balance sheets despite having little basis in the real economy rooted in the production of goods.




Read more:
Yes, there is an AI investment bubble – here are three scenarios for how it could end


Spatially, the expansion of data centres, chip manufacturing sites and mineral extraction zones requires enormous physical investment. These projects absorb capital while depending on new territories, new labour markets and new resource frontiers.

Yet as Altman’s admission suggests, and as U.S. President Donald Trump’s protectionist measures complicate global trade, these outlets are reaching their limits.

The costs of speculative capital

The consequences of over-accumulation extend far beyond firms and investors. They are experienced socially, not abstractly. Marx explained that an overproduction of capital corresponds to an overproduction of the means of production and necessities of life that cannot be used at existing rates of exploitation.

In other words, stagnant purchasing power prevents capital from being valorized at the pace it is being produced. As profitability declines, the economy resolves the imbalance by destroying the livelihoods of workers and households whose pensions are tied to equities.

History offers stark examples. The dot-com crash wiped out small investors and concentrated power in surviving firms. The 2008 financial crisis displaced millions from their homes while financial institutions were rescued.

Today, large asset managers are already hedging against potential turbulence. Vanguard, for instance, has shifted significantly toward fixed income.

Speculation drives growth

The AI bubble is primarily a symptom of structural pressures rather than purely a technological event. In the early 20th century, Marxist economist Rosa Luxemburg questioned where the continually increasing demand required for expanded reproduction would come from.

Her answer echoes Marx and Harvey: when productive outlets shrink, capital moves either outward or into speculation. The U.S. increasingly chooses the latter.

Corporate spending on AI infrastructure now contributes more to GDP growth than household consumption, an unprecedented inversion that shows how much growth is being driven by speculative investment rather than productive expansion.

This dynamic pulls down the rate of profit, and when the speculative flow reverses, contraction will follow.

A screenshot of a post from X illustrating that AI capex has added more to GDP growth than consumers' spending via a graph

(X/Twitter)

Tariffs tighten the squeeze on capital

Financial inflation has intensified as the traditional pressure valves that once allowed capital to move into new physical or geographic markets have narrowed.

Tariffs, export controls on semiconductors and retaliatory trade measures have narrowed the global space available for relocation. Since capital cannot readily escape the structural pressures of the domestic economy, it increasingly turns to financial tools that postpone losses by rolling debt forward or inflating asset prices; mechanisms that ultimately heighten fragility when the reckoning comes.

U.S. Federal Reserve Chair Jerome Powell’s openness to interest rate cuts signals a renewed turn toward cheap credit. Lower borrowing costs let capital paper over losses and pump up fresh speculative cycles.

Marx captured this logic in his analysis of interest-bearing capital, where finance generates claims on future production “above and beyond what can be realized in the form of commodities.”

The result is that households are pushed to take on more debt than they can manage, effectively swapping a crisis of stagnation for a crisis of consumer credit.

Bubbles and social risk

If the AI bubble bursts when governments have limited room to shift investment internationally and the economy is propped up by increasingly fragile credit, the consequences could be serious.

Capital will not disappear, but will instead concentrate in bond markets and credit instruments inflated by a U.S. central bank eager to cut interest rates. This does not avert crisis; it merely transfers the costs downward.

Bubbles are not accidents, but recurring mechanisms for absorbing surplus capital. If Trump’s protectionism ensures that spatial outlets continue to close and temporal fixes rely on ever riskier leverage, the system moves toward a cycle of asset inflation, collapse and renewed state intervention.

AI will survive, but the speculative bubble surrounding it is a sign of a deeper structural problem — the cost of which, when finally realized, will fall most heavily on the working class.

The Conversation

Elliot Goodell Ugalde 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 AI bubble isn’t new — Karl Marx explained the mechanisms behind it nearly 150 years ago – https://theconversation.com/the-ai-bubble-isnt-new-karl-marx-explained-the-mechanisms-behind-it-nearly-150-years-ago-270663

Thomas King: As we learn another ‘hero’ is non-Indigenous, let’s not ignore a broader cultural problem

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Celeste Pedri-Spade, Associate Professor, Department of Anthropology, McGill University

Years ago, when I first began researching Indigenous identity theft — something that intrigued me intellectually and impacted me personally — I remember trying to explain it to my Indigenous family members back home in northwestern Ontario.

We are Anishinaabeg and member citizens of Nezaadiikaang (Lac des Mille Lacs First Nation).

The women in my family responded with humour, seeing the absurdity of it all. My mother laughed and said: “Geez, I remember when not even Natives wanted to be Native … whatever happened to those times!”

Her comment highlighted a major shift in how desirable Indigenous identity has become, and how false claims tend to rise after events that draw public attention to the harms settler states have caused our families and communities.

This desirability is, indeed, heightened as educational institutions engage in processes of Indigenization and seek to recruit Indigenous people into faculty and administrative roles that assist them in advancing their reconciliation plans.




Read more:
Stolen identities: What does it mean to be Indigenous? Don’t Call Me Resilient Podcast EP 8 Transcript


Think of how many white settlers were quick to shake a Cherokee “princess” from their family tree after the Civil Rights Movement, or how recent cases of Indigenous identity fraud in Canada align with the era of Truth and Reconciliation. This era, we know, has revealed very hard truths about Canada’s relationship with Indigenous Peoples.

Cultural phenomenon

These patterns reveal more than individual acts of deception. They expose
a cultural phenomenon: when non-Indigenous people appropriate our lived experiences — our stories, struggles and traumas — on such a wide scale, it signals a broader cultural and social sickness and deterioration.

What we come to learn through the public “outings” of author Thomas King, Buffy Sainte-Marie, Mary Ellen Turpel-Lafond, Michelle Latimer and Joseph Boyden is that they offer a projection of “Indigenous success” that is often nothing more than settler fantasies: commodified versions of Indigeneity that Canadians find palatable.




Read more:
How journalists tell Buffy Sainte-Marie’s story matters — explained by a ’60s Scoop survivor


These figures become a kind of counterfeit currency, granting Canadians easy access to digestible versions of Indigenous identity and experience. But they are not ours, they are not us and they are not our stories. My mother believes this happens because Canadians do not truly want the truth of who we are, past or present.

This raises a hard question: how did these figures become Indigenous icons in the first place?

Western ‘hero’ narratives

Many Indigenous cultures caution against the concept of “heroes,” which is rooted in western narratives that elevate people as saviours. Turning people into heroes isolates collective struggles, conceals the systemic problems behind them and reinforces colonial ideas of individual exceptionalism — celebrating those who manage to succeed in oppressive systems instead of valuing relationships and community resilience.

Liberation doesn’t hinge on extraordinary individuals; it requires
structural transformation. When we elevate “heroes,” we risk distorting accountability and reinforcing inequity.

The truth is, these heroes were largely created by settler-controlled industries like publishing, media and academia — not by us. Their success was sustained by gatekeepers who valued marketable versions of Indigeneity over authentic voices. And while community voices questioned their authenticity from the start, we must ask why those warnings were ignored.

Concerns raised

In cases of a “pretendian” — false claims of Indigeneity — there are people firmly grounded in community who raise concerns right from the beginning because they cannot find themselves in the paragraphs and crescendos of those who don’t sing or speak truth. As Indigenous Peoples, we need to reflect on why such voices are often not collectively amplified and protected.

Underlying identity fraud is a belief that Indigenous Peoples are “not good enough” — that impostors can be better Natives than us. They reconcile their theft by convincing themselves they can achieve what we cannot, that we need them to “be us.” That is profoundly damaging.

It reinforces colonial hierarchies and perpetuates the idea that our worth must be validated through settler recognition.

Power to repair harm

In King’s recent opinion piece in The Globe and Mail, he wrote he was devastated to learn, contrary to what he believed, that he did not have Cherokee ancestry. He discovered this, he said, after he requested a meeting with Tribal Alliance Against Frauds, an American Cherokee organization, because he was aware of “a rumour that appeared” accusing him of not being Cherokee.




Read more:
Fraudulent claims of indigeneity: Indigenous nations are the identity experts


He said he’ll need to “survive a firestorm of anger, disbelief and betrayal” and will then “sort through rubble to see if there is anything left of my reputation, of my career.”

This was the most troubling for me — not only because it sounds like self-victimization, but because King has the power to repair harm. Accountability begins with truth-telling: admitting the false claim, making no excuses and disclosing and returning all benefits gained.

It means returning awards, redirecting funds and submitting to processes defined by the affected Nation — in King’s case, the Cherokee Nation. It means investing in long-term reparations that strengthen Indigenous self-determination, such as funding community priorities, supporting displaced Indigenous writers and investing in the brilliance of future generations.

We are more than stories

Accountability is not a one-time op-ed; it is an ongoing commitment, verified by Indigenous oversight and grounded in relational ethics.

King once wrote: “The truth about stories is that that’s all we are.” I admit to referencing it in my own writing. It is poetic, but incomplete.

We are more than stories. We are land. We are family. We are community. And we deserve a future where our identities are not commodities, where our truths are not distorted for profit or prestige and where accountability is measured not by words but by actions that build trust and repair harm.

The Conversation

Celeste Pedri-Spade 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. Thomas King: As we learn another ‘hero’ is non-Indigenous, let’s not ignore a broader cultural problem – https://theconversation.com/thomas-king-as-we-learn-another-hero-is-non-indigenous-lets-not-ignore-a-broader-cultural-problem-270773

Dependants? Why Canada should recognize migrant spouses and partners with more accuracy

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Goodnews I. Oshiogbele, PhD Student, Sociology, Western University, Western University

What comes to mind when you hear the word “dependant?” A child relying on a parent, or an elderly family member needing care? In Canada’s immigration system, the term is applied much more broadly than that.

It includes all spouses and common-law partners of immigrants or principal applicants, regardless of whether they rely financially on their significant other or not. According to Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada’s (IRCC) current definition, a dependant is “a spouse, common-law partner or dependent child of a permanent resident or principal applicant.”

On paper, this seems neutral and clear. But in practice, it flattens the diverse realities of migrant families.

This definition does not adequately reflect the diverse experiences of many accompanying spouses and partners who are highly skilled, financially independent, co-providers — or even the primary breadwinners — in their households.

“Dependant” as a catch-all term

Words matter in immigration policy because they shape perceptions, and those perceptions shape policies, which in turn shape identities.

Generally, the term “dependant” carries connotations of financial reliance, vulnerability and even passivity. Labelling all spouses and partners “dependants” suggests they are passive followers rather than active contributors, not only in family migration decisions but also in immigrant integration outcomes such as socioeconomic standing and a sense of recognition and belonging.

As one principal applicant and migrant partner in London, Ont., shared with me in an interview for this piece regarding her family’s experience using IRCC’s online application portal:

“The application page was confusing because of the word ‘dependant.’ For us, my partner is never a dependant. He has a secure job and earns more than I do. We are a dual-income household and no one is an economic dependant. So, when I saw the word ‘dependant’ on the website, I wondered if I was on the wrong website and thought it was application information for children or older parents who are true dependants.”

Furthermore, research tells us a different story that challenges the dependant label.

A Statistics Canada study found that many spouses and common-law partners of economic immigrants had similar qualifications to the principal applicants, partly thanks to what sociologists call “positive assortative mating” or homogamy. This concept refers to the tendency for people to enter romantic relationships with partners of similar background or social status.

Similarly, research by immigration and family economist Ana Ferrer and the Pew Research Center suggests that immigrant wives in professional households frequently contribute income comparable to or greater than their husbands, challenging the idea of passive dependency.

Furthermore, some accompanying spouses enter the workforce faster than their principal applicant spouses. This is common in situations where, for example, the principal applicant is retraining or seeking credential recognition. Many others contribute financially across borders, sending remittances to family members living abroad.

A matter of equity and inclusion

This issue is not simply about accuracy in terminology, although that is essential. It is also about inadvertently classifying others unfairly, promoting gender inequality and marginalizing some migrant family members.

Most accompanying spouses and partners are women and labelling them uniformly as dependants even when they include co-providers and primary earners, reinforces outdated stereotypes.

Migrant male spouses and partners also face their own identity struggles, despite their qualifications.

Statistics Canada data reveals persistent gender differences in labour market outcomes among newcomers, with immigrant women having a labour force participation rate of 78.2 per cent in 2021, significantly lower than the 90.2 per cent for immigrant men. While this arguably reflects global gender norms that many migrant families bring with them, it could also be linked with their sense of identity.

Canada prides itself on being a leader in immigration policy and in creating an inclusive society. Therefore, while other long-established immigration systems across the globe may continue to use this term this way, IRCC could consider clarifying it. Currently, the dependant label may unintentionally reinforce perceptions of dependency that do not reflect the evolving realities of modern migrant families.

Making invisible contributions visible

Gendered assumptions about who earns, who cares and who follows continue to shape how immigrant families are represented, and, in turn, treated by institutions. In addition to ongoing commendable efforts to make Canada more gender-inclusive, a long-term rectification of this issue requires more societal refinement in how we think about gender and work among newcomers.

Addressing this issue constructively would involve both policy reflection and a broader social conversation. In policy terms, it begins with precision — recognizing that not all spouses or partners depend economically on the principal applicant. In social terms, it means valuing the visible and invisible work migrants do, whether it is paid labour, unpaid care or transnational remittances.

In the meantime, here’s a simple fix that can address the semantic problem: In its current definition of a dependant, IRCC already distinguishes between dependent children and non-dependent adult children. The department could consider a similar approach for accompanying spouses and partners.

A small but meaningful change — such as specifying “a dependent spouse or common-law partner” — could help clarify the definition and better reflect the realities of today’s migrant families. For those affected, it will help improve their sense of identity, how they are perceived in public, the bureaucratic policies and practices affecting them and their overall integration experiences.

Alternatively, particularly in the immigration application system, the term dependant could be replaced with “secondary applicant” or “accompanying family member” to clearly distinguish the principal applicant from those accompanying them. While IRCC may have operational considerations, exploring better alternatives could lead to significant systemic improvements.

The Conversation

Goodnews I. Oshiogbele is a member of the International Union for the Scientific Study of Population (IUSSP) and the Canadian Population Society (CPS).

ref. Dependants? Why Canada should recognize migrant spouses and partners with more accuracy – https://theconversation.com/dependants-why-canada-should-recognize-migrant-spouses-and-partners-with-more-accuracy-265744

Tracking with care: The ethics of using location tracking technology with people living with dementia

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Madalena Pamela Liougas, PhD Candidate, Rehabilitation Science Institute, University of Toronto

Imagine you’re 83 years old, living with dementia in a long-term care home. Lately, your caregivers keep asking you to wear a bracelet on your wrist 24/7. They say it’s for your safety, so they can locate you quickly when needed.

At first, you think it’s OK, and it looks like a watch, so you go along. But you soon notice it never comes off. You must wear it everywhere, even in private spaces like your bed and bathroom. This becomes annoying, especially when you realize that it doesn’t have any functions that are useful to you.

What you may be unaware of is that it also collects information about your daily movements.

This technology is a real-time location system (RTLS), and it’s becoming increasingly common in hospitals and long-term care homes. They are promoted as improving physical safety and quality of care and are used for nurse calls, contact tracing, preventing unaccompanied exits and more.

Research demonstrating RTLS’s worth is sparse, and its use raises questions around data security, privacy and control. This is the case for those most affected by RTLS — older adults, family caregivers and direct care staff — whose perspectives are often overlooked in technology research.

Older people sitting at a table and a younger person standing, speaking with them
Care staff in a study said it was often simpler to locate residents in person.
(Pexels/Jsme Mila)

Real-time location systems

An RTLS works like an indoor GPS. Residents under care at a long-term care home (and sometimes staff) wear a tag or a bracelet with a sensor that communicates with beacons placed throughout the walls and ceilings of the building. The system enables the tracking of people wearing the sensor in real time, and collects movement data. It can also send automated geo-fencing alerts, such as when someone enters or exits a room.

Interest in RTLS in long-term care and other health-care settings largely stems from the belief that they can be useful for predicting changes in health and well-being if clinical algorithms could be developed to analyze movement data.

As part of a larger project, our research team conducted a study with residents, family caregivers, direct care staff and administrators in one home that purchased an RTLS. Administrators and family caregivers told us that RTLS could make care safer and more efficient by increasing staff’s ability to continuously monitor residents and enable quicker intervention.

However, staff informed us that it was often simpler to locate residents in person, and that they lacked time and resources for continuous remote monitoring of residents or to investigate and respond in real time.

This reinforced our findings from an earlier study of this technology in a hospital setting that similarly suggested that RTLS may increase staff workload. More concerningly, we found that administrators, staff and caregivers had limited awareness of this technology’s ethical implications, including its impact on residents, and lacked the knowledge and skills to involve residents in decision-making.

Power and control

In the setting we studied, consent for the use of RTLS came from substitute decision-makers — often a family caregiver — as most residents of the home lived with severe cognitive impairment or dementia. Many caregivers consented quickly, believing RTLS would help staff stay aware of residents’ whereabouts, without fully considering residents’ preferences. Few family caregivers involved residents in the consent process, despite their legal obligation as their substitute decision-makers to align decisions with residents’ values.

While most residents agreed to wear the bracelet, some explicitly rejected the idea of sharing their location data with family or staff. Over time, many wearers found no direct value in it and frequently described it as uncomfortable and heavy.

Caregivers didn’t fully know what data was collected by RTLS, who owned the data or how it would be used to improve care beyond localization. Still, most believed that having more information about residents’ movements was beneficial and morally justified the continuous surveillance.

Although privacy rights are protected by law in Canada and the United States, many family caregivers told the researchers they believed residents gave up those rights by entering long-term care. Some also sought access to RTLS data collected about their family members, expecting it would be shared to enhance transparency, although this never happened.

Staff faced their own challenges. Some were unsure how to explain RTLS’s benefits and risks to residents and to their families or respond to residents’ concerns. They lacked guidance on whether to respect a resident’s refusal to wear the tracking bracelet or override it based on family consent.

This left staff uncertain about how to balance residents’ autonomy with their duty of care, and contributed to moral distress among employees.

Future considerations

Our research suggests RTLS offers uncertain benefits and creates new challenges in an already under-resourced sector. Its use also raises ethical concerns, particularly around surveillance and control, which can exacerbate power imbalances and perpetuate digital ageism and digital ableism.

Digital ageism refers to discrimination on the basis of age that intersects with digital economies. Examples include limited or stereotypical representation of old age or older people in data training sets, tech design that doesn’t reflect the heterogeneity of older users, the push to replace humans with technologies in caring for older adults and automated algorithmic decision-making that discriminates against older adults.

Decision-making around RTLS needs to fully involve those who will be affected by these technologies. Before deciding to wear a tracking bracelet, residents and families should be supported in discussing this with care staff who help them to understand and reflect on:

  • What information will this technology collect?
  • Who will see it?
  • How will it be used in practice to improve my care?
  • Are these improvements worth compromising my privacy?

This is ethical decision-making: transparent, collaborative and grounded in dignity.

The Conversation

Alisa Grigorovich receives funding from AMS Healthcare (Fellowship in Compassion and Artificial Intelligence) and SSHRC.

Madalena Pamela Liougas 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. Tracking with care: The ethics of using location tracking technology with people living with dementia – https://theconversation.com/tracking-with-care-the-ethics-of-using-location-tracking-technology-with-people-living-with-dementia-268459

Could a national, public ‘CanGPT’ be Canada’s answer to ChatGPT?

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Fenwick McKelvey, Associate Professor in Information and Communication Technology Policy, Concordia University

As generative artificial intelligence (AI) tools like ChatGPT, Google Gemini and others reshape the digital landscape, much of the conversation in Canada has focused on commercial innovation.

But what if AI were developed as a public utility rather than as a commercial service? Canada’s long history with public service media — namely the CBC and Radio-Canada — offers a useful model for thinking about how AI could serve the public amid growing calls for a public interest approach to AI policy.

Commercial AI has largely been built on the assumption that user-generated content posted online is available to train commercial AI. Focusing so much on the technical success of generative AI ignores that its innovations depend on access to global cultural knowledge — the result of treating the internet as a “knowledge commons.”

AI would have been impossible without public data, and much of that data was taken without contributing back to the public system. Canada, in fact, has a historical link to AI innovation.

Early work in automated translation involved a tape reel that was anonymously sent to IBM in the 1980s containing Canadian parliamentary transcripts. The multilingual material helped train early translation algorithms. What if Canada intentionally trained the future of AI in the same way?

CanGPT: a Canadian public-service AI

A growing number of countries are experimenting with national or publicly governed AI models. Switzerland, Sweden and the Netherlands are all building AI systems with the goal of creating public AI services. The Canadian federal service has some of its own experiments with its own alternative to ChatGPT, CanChat, but it’s only an internal tool.

In Montréal, many arts-based organizations have begun discussing creating their own commons-based AI infrastructure and tools, but they lack infrastructure and resources to advance their mission. A national initiative could help.

There is precedent for this approach. When radio and television first emerged, many countries created public broadcasters — like the BBC (British Broadcasting Company) in the United Kingdom and the CBC in Canada — to ensure new communication technologies served democratic needs.

A similar approach could work for AI. Instead of letting companies build the future of AI, Canadian Parliament could sponsor the creation of its own AI model and expand the mandate of an organization like the CBC to deliver better access to AI. Such a public model could draw on materials in the public domain, government datasets and publicly licensed cultural resources.

CBC/Radio-Canada also has an enormous, multilingual archive of audio, video and text going back decades. That corpus could become a foundational dataset for a Canadian public-service AI, if treated as a public good.

A national model could become an open-source system available either as an online service or as a locally run application. Beyond providing public access, CanGPT could anchor a broader national AI strategy rooted in public values rather than commercial incentives.

Setting democratic boundaries for AI

Developing CanGPT would force a needed debate about what AI should and should not be able to do. Generative AI is already implicated in deepfake pornography and other forms of technology-assisted violence.

Today, the guardrails governing these harms are set privately by tech companies. Some platforms impose minimal moderation; others, like OpenAI, ban politicians and lobbyists from using ChatGPT for official campaign business. These decisions have profound political implications that shape content moderation and social media governance.

Content moderation and acceptable-use policies could be solved through normative principals embedded in CanGPT. A publicly governed AI model could allow Canadians to debate and define these boundaries through democratic institutions rather than through technology firms.

Why a public AI model matters

Public AI is a different tack than government’s infrastructure-heavy approach to AI. The federal government — despite growing concerns that we are in an AI bubble — has invested billions in a big, costly AI Sovereign Compute Strategy.

The policy might be ineffective, end up going largely to American firms and dismantle Canada’s capacity to build public-interest AI.

Canada’s AI agenda has a big environmental impact. A public-good framework could encourage the opposite: frugal, energy-efficient models that run on smaller, local machines and prioritize targeted tasks rather than massive, multi-billion parameter models like ChatGPT. A smaller public model could contribute to this by having a lower environmental footprint.

This approach could stand in direct contrast to the federal government’s efforts to build large-scale AI, as reflected in the massive data centre investments outlined in recent federal budgets. Canada has made major investments in big AI projects. If the bubble bursts, however, smaller-scale AI initiatives may offer a less risky future.

Imagining a public future for AI

Building CanGPT would not be simple. Questions remain about how to fund it, how to update it and how to maintain competitive performance compared with commercial AI.

But it would open a national conversation about AI’s social purpose, regulatory standards and the role of public institutions in digital infrastructure. CanGPT is, admittedly, a strange idea, but it might be precisely what is lacking in Canada’s approach to public service media and digital sovereignty.

At minimum, imagining a public AI model opens the possibilities of new ways to deliver on the promises of AI other than another subscription sold to us by Big Tech.

The Conversation

Fenwick McKelvey receives funding from Social Science and Humanities Research Council and the Fonds de recherche du Québec.

ref. Could a national, public ‘CanGPT’ be Canada’s answer to ChatGPT? – https://theconversation.com/could-a-national-public-cangpt-be-canadas-answer-to-chatgpt-231170

Beyond Zohran Mamdani: Social media amplifies the politics of feelings

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Merlyna Lim, Canada Research Professor, School of Journalism and Communication, Carleton University

Zohran Mamdani’s election as New York City mayor has spurred global celebrations and pride. Scores of social media users worldwide celebrate and claim him as one of their own.

Muslims across the globe, including in Indonesia — home to the world’s largest Muslim population, where I was born and raised — rejoice that he is Muslim. Indians take pride in Mamdani’s Indian roots. Ugandans cheer his victory because Kampala is his birthplace.

Representation does matter. It can be deeply affirming to see someone whose identity resonates with you succeed in a foreign political landscape.

However, Mamdani didn’t win simply because of who he is. He won because of what he did, the politics that his campaigns were based on — a platform that focuses on the cost of living, from utility bills to grocery bills to bus fares to child care to rent — and, more importantly, the feelings, the trust and cohesion generated in the network of people who organized with and for him.

As a scholar who examines digital media and information technology in relation to citizen participation and democracy, I know that political behaviour research has long observed that voters don’t choose based on policy alone: they vote based on identity, group belonging, emotional attachments and symbolic cues, all of which speak to “the politics of feelings.”

This refers to politics that mobilize and build power through shared feelings and emotional bonds.




Read more:
Zohran Mamdani’s transformative child care plan builds on a history of NYC social innovations


Identity, platform, visibility

That Mamdani is Muslim — the son of a South Asian African Muslim father and a Hindu Indian mother, born in Uganda — and that he has lived an immigrant community experience in New York is a formidable part of his story.

This profoundly matters in a political landscape that often marginalizes such identities — and helps explain why he has become so visible online and globally.

Viral videos, algorithmically boosted content and his public persona amplified this visibility. Online, the Zohran Mamdani phenomenon illustrates the power of emotion-driven mobilization, the process through which emotional currents bring people into alignment or connection with a cause, figure or community.

Identity and emotion have always been central to politics. Social media didn’t invent the politics of feelings; it accelerated and amplified them.

Branding a politician

Social media political participation doesn’t operate within a deliberative civic culture, but within an algorithmic marketing culture where algorithmic targeting and data-driven marketing principles shape how persuasion, visibility and emotion circulate.

Branding shapes the way content looks and feels. Algorithms push what’s likely to grab attention, and human users — naturally drawn to emotion — interact with it, feeding the system in return. Together, they produce a self-reinforcing loop where high-arousal content dominates, as a consequence of the interplay of marketing logic, machine learning and user behaviour.

The algorithm rewards emotion, not analysis. It privileges what’s instantly legible — a name, a face, a faith — over the collective labour and work behind a political movement.

Hope, pride as well as fear, outrage

Posts highlighting Mamdani’s Muslim, immigrant or brown identity, whether in celebration or attack, elicit emotions — hope, pride, fear or outrage. These emotions fuel engagement, which algorithms amplify, generating cycles of visibility which can simultaneously mobilize support and provoke backlash.




Read more:
The urgent need for media literacy in an age of annihilation


Indeed, the same identity categories that make him so celebrated abroad have also been weaponized against him at home in the United States.

Through social media disinformation fuelled by racism and Islamophobia, Mamdani’s opponents have framed him as a “Muslim extremist,” “communist,” “jihadi terrorist,” “brown” and “dirty” or a “threat” to American values.

The flattening happens from both sides: he is either attacked for his identity or adored because of it.

The irony is sharp. For example, some Indonesians embrace a man named Mamdani — Mamdanis are part of the Khoja Shia community — while turning a blind eye to anti-Shia persecution at home.

Similarly, some Modi supporters claim Mamdani’s Indian heritage without acknowledging that he is a vocal critic of Modi.




Read more:
Listen: Indian PM Modi is expected to get a rockstar welcome in the U.S. How much is the diaspora fuelling him?


Identity becomes politicized

We can see similar dynamics elsewhere. Sadiq Khan’s visibility as a Muslim mayor of London generated both celebration and Islamophobic backlash on social media, amplified through viral videos, memes and algorithmically boosted news cycles.

In Canada, former prime minister Justin Trudeau’s youthful, multicultural and photogenic persona generated strong emotional attachment and global circulation while overshadowing his substantive political work.

This is how identity becomes politicized. By focusing the debate on who someone is, attention is diverted from what they stand for. It’s easier to categorize than to engage with structural critique.

In an algorithmic age, we consume politics in byte sizes, where visibility often displaces understanding and emotional attachment overshadows knowledge-seeking. It’s easier to celebrate a face than to join a struggle.

Emotion meets lived experience

But visibility is not the same as electoral power. We learn from Mamdani’s case that, for local politics, symbolism is rarely enough. It operates in a different register from national or global scales.

While Mamdani’s online persona benefited from algorithmic amplification, his campaign was also built on grassroots, volunteer-based mobilization combining door-knocking and neighbourhood conversations across the city of New York.

In local elections, voters aren’t distant algorithmic audiences. They’re neighbours, co-workers and community members who experience the effects of policy in their daily lives. A candidate’s identity, promises and track record must resonate with the residents’ tangible needs. Branding and emotional attachment help, but they cannot replace direct knowledge of local realities and persistent organizing work.

Mamdani platform

To cast a ballot for Mamdani in New York, voters needed to not only embrace his identities, but also his platform and the fact that, like Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, he’s unapologetically a democratic socialist.

The word “socialism” is not widely accepted in the United States, as it’s often conflated with “communism” — the remnant of Cold War anti-communism propaganda. It’s not popular in Indonesia, India and Uganda either.

Whether Mamdani will fulfil his voters’ expectations is too early to tell. What is clear is that his story isn’t just about Muslim pride or immigrant success. It’s about what’s possible when people organize across differences for a common cause. It’s about choosing to see beyond who someone is to what they stand for.

The Conversation

Merlyna Lim 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. Beyond Zohran Mamdani: Social media amplifies the politics of feelings – https://theconversation.com/beyond-zohran-mamdani-social-media-amplifies-the-politics-of-feelings-269792

Beyond Zohran Mamdani: Social media amplifes the politics of feelings

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Merlyna Lim, Canada Research Professor, School of Journalism and Communication, Carleton University

Zohran Mamdani’s election as New York City mayor has spurred global celebrations and pride. Scores of social media users worldwide celebrate and claim him as one of their own.

Muslims across the globe, including in Indonesia — home to the world’s largest Muslim population, where I was born and raised — rejoice that he is Muslim. Indians take pride in Mamdani’s Indian roots. Ugandans cheer his victory because Kampala is his birthplace.

Representation does matter. It can be deeply affirming to see someone whose identity resonates with you succeed in a foreign political landscape.

However, Mamdani didn’t win simply because of who he is. He won because of what he did, the politics that his campaigns were based on — a platform that focuses on the cost of living, from utility bills to grocery bills to bus fares to child care to rent — and, more importantly, the feelings, the trust and cohesion generated in the network of people who organized with and for him.

As a scholar who examines digital media and information technology in relation to citizen participation and democracy, I know that political behaviour research has long observed that voters don’t choose based on policy alone: they vote based on identity, group belonging, emotional attachments and symbolic cues, all of which speak to “the politics of feelings.”

This refers to politics that mobilize and build power through shared feelings and emotional bonds.




Read more:
Zohran Mamdani’s transformative child care plan builds on a history of NYC social innovations


Identity, platform, visibility

That Mamdani is Muslim — the son of a South Asian African Muslim father and a Hindu Indian mother, born in Uganda — and that he has lived an immigrant community experience in New York is a formidable part of his story.

This profoundly matters in a political landscape that often marginalizes such identities — and helps explain why he has become so visible online and globally.

Viral videos, algorithmically boosted content and his public persona amplified this visibility. Online, the Zohran Mamdani phenomenon illustrates the power of emotion-driven mobilization, the process through which emotional currents bring people into alignment or connection with a cause, figure or community.

Identity and emotion have always been central to politics. Social media didn’t invent the politics of feelings; it accelerated and amplified them.

Branding a politician

Social media political participation doesn’t operate within a deliberative civic culture, but within an algorithmic marketing culture where algorithmic targeting and data-driven marketing principles shape how persuasion, visibility and emotion circulate.

Branding shapes the way content looks and feels. Algorithms push what’s likely to grab attention, and human users — naturally drawn to emotion — interact with it, feeding the system in return. Together, they produce a self-reinforcing loop where high-arousal content dominates, as a consequence of the interplay of marketing logic, machine learning and user behaviour.

The algorithm rewards emotion, not analysis. It privileges what’s instantly legible — a name, a face, a faith — over the collective labour and work behind a political movement.

Hope, pride as well as fear, outrage

Posts highlighting Mamdani’s Muslim, immigrant or brown identity, whether in celebration or attack, elicit emotions — hope, pride, fear or outrage. These emotions fuel engagement, which algorithms amplify, generating cycles of visibility which can simultaneously mobilize support and provoke backlash.




Read more:
The urgent need for media literacy in an age of annihilation


Indeed, the same identity categories that make him so celebrated abroad have also been weaponized against him at home in the United States.

Through social media disinformation fuelled by racism and Islamophobia, Mamdani’s opponents have framed him as a “Muslim extremist,” “communist,” “jihadi terrorist,” “brown” and “dirty” or a “threat” to American values.

The flattening happens from both sides: he is either attacked for his identity or adored because of it.

The irony is sharp. For example, some Indonesians embrace a man named Mamdani — Mamdanis are part of the Khoja Shia community — while turning a blind eye to anti-Shia persecution at home.

Similarly, some Modi supporters claim Mamdani’s Indian heritage without acknowledging that he is a vocal critic of Modi.




Read more:
Listen: Indian PM Modi is expected to get a rockstar welcome in the U.S. How much is the diaspora fuelling him?


Identity becomes politicized

We can see similar dynamics elsewhere. Sadiq Khan’s visibility as a Muslim mayor of London generated both celebration and Islamophobic backlash on social media, amplified through viral videos, memes and algorithmically boosted news cycles.

In Canada, former prime minister Justin Trudeau’s youthful, multicultural and photogenic persona generated strong emotional attachment and global circulation while overshadowing his substantive political work.

This is how identity becomes politicized. By focusing the debate on who someone is, attention is diverted from what they stand for. It’s easier to categorize than to engage with structural critique.

In an algorithmic age, we consume politics in byte sizes, where visibility often displaces understanding and emotional attachment overshadows knowledge-seeking. It’s easier to celebrate a face than to join a struggle.

Emotion meets lived experience

But visibility is not the same as electoral power. We learn from Mamdani’s case that, for local politics, symbolism is rarely enough. It operates in a different register from national or global scales.

While Mamdani’s online persona benefited from algorithmic amplification, his campaign was also built on grassroots, volunteer-based mobilization combining door-knocking and neighbourhood conversations across the city of New York.

In local elections, voters aren’t distant algorithmic audiences. They’re neighbours, co-workers and community members who experience the effects of policy in their daily lives. A candidate’s identity, promises and track record must resonate with the residents’ tangible needs. Branding and emotional attachment help, but they cannot replace direct knowledge of local realities and persistent organizing work.

Mamdani platform

To cast a ballot for Mamdani in New York, voters needed to not only embrace his identities, but also his platform and the fact that, like Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, he’s unapologetically a democratic socialist.

The word “socialism” is not widely accepted in the United States, as it’s often conflated with “communism” — the remnant of Cold War anti-communism propaganda. It’s not popular in Indonesia, India and Uganda either.

Whether Mamdani will fulfil his voters’ expectations is too early to tell. What is clear is that his story isn’t just about Muslim pride or immigrant success. It’s about what’s possible when people organize across differences for a common cause. It’s about choosing to see beyond who someone is to what they stand for.

The Conversation

Merlyna Lim 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. Beyond Zohran Mamdani: Social media amplifes the politics of feelings – https://theconversation.com/beyond-zohran-mamdani-social-media-amplifes-the-politics-of-feelings-269792

New study finds Pacific Northwest birds are becoming more common in the mountains as the climate warms

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Benjamin Freeman, Assistant Professor, School of Biological Sciences, Georgia Institute of Technology

We know that climate change is affecting animals and habitats across our world, but figuring out how isn’t always easy. In fact, for years, I told audiences we simply could not know how mountain birds in the Pacific Northwest were responding to climate change. But as my recent research proves, I was mistaken.

It wasn’t for lack of scientific interest — biologists worry that mountain species are vulnerable to warming temperatures. It wasn’t for lack of personal interest — I grew up among the snow-capped mountains of the region and wanted to know what was happening in my own backyard. It was because we lacked the data.

Specifically, I thought there was no historical data describing where Pacific Northwest birds lived along mountain slopes prior to recent climate change. Historical data provides a crucial baseline. With good historical data in hand, researchers can compare where species live now to where they used to live. In protected landscapes where people aren’t directly changing the habitat, climate change is the main force that could impact where birds live.

As a postdoctoral fellow at the University of British Columbia, I had found historical datasets and conducted resurveys in far-flung locations from Peru to Papua New Guinea. Yet I did not know what was happening to the birds living in the mountains visible from campus.

The city of Vancouver is visible in the distance from nearby mountain peaks
Researchers conducted surveys in the mountains near Vancouver, B.C. to find out how climate change is impacting birds that live in the area.
(Benjamin Freeman)

Then, one day I found a scientific paper describing an impressive bird survey from the early 1990s from these nearby mountains. I contacted the lead author, wildlife ecologist Louise Waterhouse, who told me she still had the original data and was interested in a resurvey.

The expectation is that mountain species should respond to hotter temperatures. Some species like the warmer areas at the base of the mountain, while others require cold areas near the mountain top.

Bird surveys

The general prediction is that plants and animals will move to higher elevations where temperatures remain cool, as if they are riding a slow-motion escalator. This spells trouble for mountaintop species, which have nowhere higher to move to. For them, climate change can set in motion an “escalator to extinction.”

To determine whether this was true, I first had to relocate the locations that Waterhouse and her colleagues had surveyed. Global positioning system units did not exist at the time, so they marked their survey locations on maps. I spent days in the forest, tracing my finger along the map as I walked through the woods.

Luckily for me, Waterhouse conducted her surveys in old-growth forests. With their towering trees and massive decaying logs on the forest floor, it was easy to tell when I stepped from the surrounding younger forest into one of these ancient groves.

Then I had to do the modern surveys. This required waking up at 4 a.m. for a month. Birds are most active in the early morning, so that’s the best time to conduct research.

While it’s never fun to set an early alarm, it was glorious to spend dawn among giant trees listening for birds. One morning a bobcat padded along a mossy log just a couple of metres from where I stood.

Another day a barred owl swooped noiselessly past me like a forest ghost. And every morning I conducted survey after survey, scribbling the species I encountered in my notebook.

What we found

After the survey work was completed, our team analyzed the data. We found that temperatures have increased by around 1 C in southwestern British Columbia since the early 1990s.

We wondered whether this warming would set the escalator to extinction in motion. But the main response we found was that species still live in the same slices of mountainside but have become more abundant at higher elevations. That suggests most species living in old-growth forests in this region are resilient to climate change so far.

Our resurvey is kind of like going to your doctor for a routine physical exam, but for an entire bird community. We found most species are doing well, akin to a general good report from your doctor. But we also identified problems.

Most notably, the Canada jay has dramatically declined and is on the escalator to extinction. This grey-and-white bird, also known as “whiskey jack,” is well-loved for its bold behaviour and intelligence and is considered by some to be Canada’s national bird. Follow-up research is urgently needed to help these charismatic jays persist in this region.

Our study provides a clear picture of how birds are responding to climate change in the mountains near Vancouver. This information is directly useful to land managers and conservationists.

I think back to the years when I said this study was impossible. If I hadn’t come across Waterhouse’s study that one grey afternoon, the hard-won data that she and her team collected might have been lost.

Now, as an assistant professor at Georgia Tech, I have created the Mountain Bird Network to save and share such legacy datasets from mountains across the globe. Who knows what other mountains have high-quality historical data?

Thinking about mountain birds, I realize my toes are tapping as I look to the alarm clock and decide that maybe I need more 4 a.m. wake-ups in my life.

The Conversation

Benjamin Freeman receives funding from the David and Lucille Packard Foundation.

ref. New study finds Pacific Northwest birds are becoming more common in the mountains as the climate warms – https://theconversation.com/new-study-finds-pacific-northwest-birds-are-becoming-more-common-in-the-mountains-as-the-climate-warms-270041