Category: The Conversation – Global Perspectives

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Paul Formosa, Professor and Head of the Department of Philosophy, and Co-Director of the Macquire University Ethics & Agency Research Centre, Macquarie University

Jimmy Donaldson, better known as MrBeast, runs the most subscribed-to YouTube channel in the world (with 484 million subscribers) and has an estimated net worth of US$2.6 billion.

He is also a prominent philanthropist. Beyond his involvement in fundraising initiatives such as #TeamTrees, which claims to have planted more than 24 million trees worldwide, Donaldson runs a dedicated Beast Philanthropy YouTube channel.

He claims 100% of profits from this channel’s ad revenue, merch sales and sponsorships go towards helping others. This has included paying for 1,000 cataract surgeries, constructing a medical clinic for children rescued from slavery, and building 100 wells to provide clean water in Africa.

These impressive philanthropic endeavours have dramatically improved the lives of their recipients. How could any of this be controversial?

The murky ethics of ‘stunt philanthropy’

Many of Donaldson’s videos involve subjecting people to what might be seen as degrading or exploitative situations, in exchange for money.

In Donaldson’s “Ages 1 – 100 Decide Who Wins $250,000” video, contestants (including young children) are put in an intense competitive structure and forced to eliminate one another. We see a grown man help to intentionally eliminate an 11-year-old girl, which leads to her sobbing on camera.

In another video, he tells a random group of shoppers they will win US$250,000 if they are the last to leave the store. Under pressure to stay, they are kept from their families and forced to endure poor living conditions, with some experiencing emotional breakdowns.

These videos have been labelled by various critics as “poverty porn”, as they could be seen as exploiting the desperation of vulnerable people to generate clicks and ad revenue.

The Beast Games reality series, which airs on Prime Video, is also built around challenges designed to provoke contestants into backstabbing one another, experiencing emotional distress, and revealing depressing stories about how badly they need the money.

Allegations against Donaldson also extend to behind the scenes, particularly in regards to the culture of work in his companies.

In 2024, several contestants who took part in Beast Games filed a lawsuit against Donaldson’s MrB2024 and other companies involved in the production. They allege they were subject to “chronic mistreatment”, including the infliction of emotional distress, inadequate food and rest breaks, delays in receiving medication, exposure to dangerous conditions, and a failure to prevent sexual harassment.

More recently, a former Beast Industries employee sued two of Donaldson’s production companies after suffering alleged sexual harassment and gender bias at work.

You can’t morally offset exploitation of people

When it comes to assessing the ethics of Donaldson’s work, one option is to take a simple “consequentialist” perspective. Act consequentialism is the view that the right action is the one which leads to the most amount of good.

If a few people suffer exploitative conditions so many more people can enjoy life-saving surgery, then the moral calculus is likely to come out in favour of this situation. Of course, there are longstanding philosophical worries with such a view.

The 18th century philosopher Immanuel Kant argued it is wrong to use others as tools to achieve our own ends, even if our ends are morally admirable. Treating some people as mere means right now can’t be morally justified by promising to help others later on.

According to Kant, one’s motives for helping others are also important, and the moral worth of an action is determined by these motives. So helping others out of a sense of duty has a moral worth that doing the same act out of self-interest does not.

Is Donaldson’s philanthropy motivated by duty and care for others, or by clicks, esteem and ad-revenue? Or perhaps both?

We can’t know the answer. Although, Kant himself did believe all humans are likely to be morally corrupt at the very root of their character.

Consent and power

Irrespective of Donaldson’s motives, a broader point remains: his philanthropic videos are an integral part of his overall brand. The philanthropy helps to make the other, more exploitative videos (and the significant revenues they generate) more “morally palatable”.

After all, Donaldson could simply give his money away. He doesn’t need to make people compete, scheme and suffer for it.

One might counter that the participants have consented to being involved. But when you offer people in economically vulnerable situations potentially life-changing amounts of money to endure degrading conditions, the “voluntariness” becomes contestable.

This is not what ethicists consider “informed consent”. The offer can be so large that it clouds judgement. And for people without genuine alternatives, saying “no” may not be a realistic option.

The fact that Donaldson sometimes subjects himself to similar treatment, such as when he buried himself alive for seven days, deepens rather than lessens the worry, given the power asymmetries at play. He owns the production company, controls the conditions, and profits from the content in ways other participants do not.

The underlying structural concerns

When political problems, such as poverty, or a lack of access to healthcare or clean water, are reduced to entertainment, they undergo a form of what scholars call “depoliticisation”. Political failures that demand collective action, institutional reform and democratic deliberation instead become fodder for entertainment.

If we think we can help solve these problems just by watching viral videos, then we can avoid facing the structural issues that underpin them.

Paul Formosa has received funding from the Australian Research Council, and Meta (Facebook)

– ref. ‘Poverty porn’: the moral dilemma behind MrBeast’s billion-dollar empire – https://theconversation.com/poverty-porn-the-moral-dilemma-behind-mrbeasts-billion-dollar-empire-282050

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Thomas White, Associate Professor, School of Life and Environmental Sciences, University of Sydney

You’re cooking dinner, distracted, and your hand brushes a hot pan. Nerve signals race to your spinal cord and back to yank your arm away in a fraction of a second, with no thought required.

Then comes the pain. A sharp, spreading sting gives way to a pulsing ache, and you cradle your hand and run it under cold water until it subsides. That felt experience is distinct from the reflex that preceded it. While the reflex moved your body out of danger, pain drives you to protect the wound, recover, and learn to avoid similar mistakes in the future.

We readily accept that other people feel pain by reading cues in their behaviour, like the inspection and nursing of an injury. We extend this to some animals too – a dog licking its paw or a cat favouring a limb rightly stir our sympathies. But what happens when we turn that lens on animals far less like us?

In our new study, published in Proceedings of the Royal Society B, we searched for behavioural signs of pain in house crickets, one of the most widely farmed insects. After applying heat to an antenna, we found that crickets didn’t just reflexively flinch and recover. They nursed the harm, returning again and again to groom the affected site, much as we rub a burned hand.

The frontiers of feeling

French philosopher René Descartes considered animals unfeeling biological machines, and for centuries the circle of moral concern barely extended beyond our own species.

But the boundaries have steadily crept outward. Recognition that mammals experience pain came first, followed by birds. Fish too, once assumed to lack the necessary brain structures, are now widely accepted as capable of pain-like states.

The leap into invertebrates has been greater and more contentious. Their nervous systems bear little resemblance to our own, so arguments from brain anatomy alone don’t carry us far. Instead, we look to behaviour. Does the animal respond to harm in ways that go beyond reflex, ways that are flexible, persistent, and sensitive to context?

Over the past decade, testable indicators for pain in non-humans have been developed and are increasingly accepted. These include learning from unpleasant events, trading off harms against rewards, and actively protecting the site of injury. Evidence meeting these criteria helped crabs and lobsters gain legal recognition as sentient under United Kingdom law in 2022.

Among insects, the evidence has been accumulating fast. Yet most of this evidence comes from bees. Bumblebees weigh the risk of harm against the richness of a food reward, and groom the site of an injury. Honeybees learn to associate particular smells with harmful stimuli and avoid them.

Far less attention has been paid to Orthoptera, the group that includes grasshoppers, locusts and crickets. That gap matters, because the house cricket (Acheta domesticus) is the world’s most widely farmed insect, with more than 370 billion reared annually.

Do crickets feel pain?

We tested 40 male and 40 female crickets, each experiencing three conditions in random order: a hot probe to a single antenna (65°C, to activate damage receptors but not cause lasting injury), the same probe unheated, or no contact at all.

We filmed their behaviour for ten minutes. Observers scoring the footage did not know which treatment any animal had received.

The results were clear. After the hot probe, crickets were more than twice as likely to groom the affected antenna compared to controls, and spent roughly four times longer doing so.

Could this simply reflect general disturbance rather than targeted care? Unlikely: grooming was directed specifically at the heated side, not spread evenly across both antennae as it was after gentle touch or no contact.

And the behaviour wasn’t a brief, reflexive reaction. It was elevated from the outset and tapered gradually over minutes, much like rubbing a burned hand as the felt sting slowly fades.

Small minds, big feelings

Subjective experience cannot be directly observed in any animal, not even humans.

But we have shown crickets respond to harm in a way that satisfies a key criterion many scientists and philosophers use to infer pain: flexible, directed self-protection. Combined with the knowledge that crickets possess damage receptors, can learn to avoid harms, and respond less to injury under morphine, the weight of evidence for an inner life is growing.

The practical stakes are real. Hundreds of billions of farmed insects are slaughtered each year by freezing, boiling and baking. Pesticides kill trillions more, optimised for lethality with no consideration of potential suffering.

If we take a precautionary approach, credible evidence of suffering should motivate proportionate protections well before we are certain.

Insects have been around for more than 400 million years and are far more behaviourally and cognitively sophisticated than once assumed. The question, then, may not be whether some insects feel, but why we ever assumed they couldn’t.

Thomas White receives funding from The Australian Research Council, the Arthropoda Foundation, and The Australia and Pacific Science Foundation. He is a scientific advisor for the registered charity Invertebrates Australia.

Kate Lynch receives funding from the Australian Research Council, the Arthropoda Foundation, and the Australia & Pacific Science Foundatio. She has previously received funding fromand the John Templeton Foundation.

– ref. 370 billion crickets are farmed for food every year. Scientists have discovered they may feel pain – https://theconversation.com/370-billion-crickets-are-farmed-for-food-every-year-scientists-have-discovered-they-may-feel-pain-279855

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Deborah Shnookal, Research fellow, Department of Spanish and Latin American Studies, The University of Melbourne

For months, US President Donald Trump has been fixated on Cuba. He’s issued threats and imposed additional sanctions on the island. The US military has conducted dozens of intelligence-gathering flights off the coast in recent weeks, suggesting a prelude to an invasion.

The Cuban government has indicated a readiness to negotiate with the Trump administration on some issues, such as migration, drug trafficking and investment openings for Cuban-Americans. But Cuba’s sovereignty is not negotiable.

After interviewing Cuban President Miguel Díaz-Canel last month, US journalist Kristen Welker seemed to catch on:

Nothing gets under [Cubans’] skin more than the notion that the United States can tell the Cuban government who should lead it or what it should be doing, how it should be governing, because that challenges the very idea of the sovereignty of the country.

This US obsession with controlling, influencing and coercing Cuba long predates Trump and even the Cold War. This is how President Theodore Roosevelt described the island in 1906:

I am so angry with that infernal little Cuban republic that I would like to wipe its people off the face of the earth. All we have wanted from them was that they would behave themselves and be prosperous and happy so that we would not have to interfere. And now, lo and behold, they have started an utterly unjustifiable and pointless revolution.

Understanding the current impasse between the two adversarial neighbours requires looking at this full arc of history. While the 1823 Monroe Doctrine sought to establish US predominance in the entire American continent, Cuba has always been a particular focus of Washington’s attention.

Read more:
Cuba has survived 66 years of US-led embargoes. Will Trump’s blockade break it now?

‘Americanisation’ of the island

From the moment the 13 American colonies declared independence from Britain, Americans assumed Cuba would become part of the union. Successive US administrations sought to purchase, annex or otherwise control Cuba, claiming this was inevitable by virtue of the laws of gravity and geography. It was also seen as part of a self-proclaimed “civilising mission”.

When the Cubans eventually defeated their Spanish colonial masters in 1898, the United States stepped in and occupied the island to thwart its independence.

At the time, at least one third of Cubans were former slaves or of mixed race. The US governor of Cuba, Leonard Wood, argued they were not ready for self-government.

Certainly, the US – especially the Southern former slave holders – didn’t want another Haiti in its neighbourhood. Haitian slaves had seized control of their island nation from the French in a violent rebellion in 1804, echoing the cries of the French revolution for liberty, fraternity and equality.

The US military occupation of Cuba ended in 1902 and Cuba formally declared independence – albeit with provisions. These allowed for future US intervention whenever Washington thought the Cuban people needed a guiding hand (which turned out to be fairly often).

In the decades that followed, US business interests deeply penetrated every sector of Cuba’s economy and had complete sway over Cuban governments.

On a cultural level, Cuba rapidly became “Americanised” through a new US-style education system. Travel to the island picked up, too. The popular Terry’s Guide to Cuba reassured US visitors in the 1920s they would feel right at home because “thousands [of Cubans] act, think, talk and look like Americans”.

Castro’s mission

All of this changed with the rise of Fidel Castro.

During the Cuban Revolution, Castro announced in April 1959 that the revolutionary government would be “Cubanising Cuba”. This might seem “paradoxical”, he explained, but Cubans “undervalued” everything Cuban. They had become “imbued with a type of complex of self-doubt” in the face of the overwhelming US influence on the island’s culture, politics and economy.

US journalist Elizabeth Sutherland similarly observed at the time that Cubans suffered from a “cultural inferiority complex typical of colonised peoples”.

For North Americans, however, Castro’s blunt statement seemed at best to reflect ingratitude, and at worst, an insult. As the US broadcaster Walter Cronkite recalled:

The rise of Fidel Castro in Cuba was a terrible shock to the American people. This brought communism practically to our shores. Cuba was a resort land for Americans […] we considered it part of the United States.

At the heart of Cuba’s revolutionary project has been an assertion of Cuba’s sovereignty, independence and national identity. The drive has been to create a new, united and socially just Cuban nation, as envisioned by its great national hero and poet, José Martí.

So, for Cubans it’s a matter of history. For North Americans, it’s a matter of self-image. They had “convinced themselves,” writes historian Louis A. Pérez, of the “beneficent purpose […] from which [the US] derived the moral authority to presume power over Cuba”.

When the Obama administration finally resumed relations with Cuba in 2014, it felt like a historic shift was taking place. The US might finally respect Cuban sovereignty and engage with Cuba on equal terms.

As President Barack Obama said at the time:

It does not serve America’s interests, or the Cuban people, to try to push Cuba toward collapse. […] We can never erase the history between us, but we believe that you should be empowered to live with dignity and self-determination.

Trump has now reverted to Washington’s traditional neo-colonialist view of Cuba, proclaiming he can do what he likes with the island. Perhaps it is time to try a new approach. As the spectacular debacle of the US-backed Bay of Pigs invasion showed 65 years ago, Cubans remain ready to defend their independence and their right to determine their own future.

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

– ref. Why is the US so obsessed with controlling Cuba? – https://theconversation.com/why-is-the-us-so-obsessed-with-controlling-cuba-280729

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Rhys Parry, Research Fellow, Virology, The University of Queensland

For many people, news of a virus outbreak on a cruise ship immediately brings back memories of COVID spreading when the Ruby Princess docked in Sydney in March 2020. Of the passengers and crew who disembarked, 575 had COVID. The virus then spread to the community.

So it’s understandable people are concerned that passengers from the MV Hondius need to be quarantined after potential exposure to Andes virus, a rodent-borne hantavirus.

However, the comparison with COVID only goes so far. Andes virus is serious and authorities are right to respond cautiously. But experts, including from the World Health Organization, note it doesn’t have the characteristics needed to become “the next COVID”.

As of May 11, European health authorities have reported nine cases linked to the cruise ship, including seven confirmed and two probable cases. Three deaths have been reported.

Five Australians and one New Zealander are being repatriated to Australia for quarantine and monitoring. The passengers will initially quarantine at the Centre for National Resilience near RAAF Base Pearce in Western Australia.

Here’s what you need to know about Andes virus, the risk of transmission, and how it’s different to the virus that caused COVID.

How do hantaviruses spread?

Hantaviruses are a group of viruses usually carried by mice, rats and other rodents. People are most commonly infected after inhaling tiny particles of contaminated rodent urine, droppings or saliva.

Most hantaviruses are not known to spread between people. Andes virus is the exception. After the initial spillover from infected rodents, it is the only hantavirus with well-documented person-to-person transmission.

But that doesn’t mean it spreads easily between people. Further human-to-human spread is uncommon, but it can occur in close-contact settings such as households, among caregivers, during intimate contact, or after prolonged exposure in crowded or poorly ventilated indoor areas.

That is very different from SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID. SARS-CoV-2 spreads very efficiently through the air. People could infect others before they even realised they were sick.

Early estimates suggested each person infected with SARS-CoV-2 passed the virus to roughly two or more others, on average, in populations who had never encountered it before.

Andes virus can cause onward human-to-human transmission, but requires a perfect storm of conditions: symptomatic people in crowded, poorly ventilated spaces with close contact over time. This was the case on the MV Hondius.

This difference in transmission potential is why SARS-CoV-2 caused a pandemic and Andes virus has only produced contained outbreaks.

What are the symptoms of Andes virus?

Early symptoms of Andes virus infection can look like many other illnesses, including fever, headache, muscle aches, nausea and fatigue.

In some people, infection can progress to hantavirus pulmonary syndrome, a life-threatening condition in which breathing becomes difficult.

How long after contact can you get symptoms?

The WHO recommends people exposed to Andes virus monitor for symptoms for 42 days after their last potential exposure.

This reflects the outer limit of the time between infection and symptom onset. It doesn’t mean people are infectious for 42 days.

Australian authorities have announced the returning passengers will initially spend three weeks in quarantine, with further monitoring arrangements to follow.

Melbourne’s Doherty Institute will undertake the testing using polymerase chain reaction (PCR), which detects the virus’s genetic material and blood-based antibody testing, known as serology.

A negative test early after exposure is useful, but not always definitive. If the virus is still incubating, there may not yet be enough viral genetic material or antibody response to detect.

How does the virus progress?

The long incubation period reflects how Andes virus progresses, compared to SARS-CoV-2.

COVID symptoms typically appear within days because the virus replicates rapidly in the respiratory system.

Andes virus progresses differently. Severe disease is linked to blood-vessel dysfunction and inflammatory responses. The breathing problems associated with the complication hantavirus pulmonary syndrome aren’t caused by the virus directly destroying lung tissue, but by the immune system’s delayed response. This causes fluid to leak into the lungs and makes breathing difficult.

How deadly is it?

Fatality rates vary significantly between hantavirus species.

European and Asian hantaviruses typically cause death in less than 1–15% of cases, while hantavirus pulmonary syndrome from American strains, including Andes virus, can reach up to 50%.

For context, in 2025, eight countries across the Americas reported 229 hantavirus cases and 59 deaths. These are severe infections, but they remain rare events.

A virus doesn’t become a pandemic simply because it’s deadly.

Read more:
Hantavirus: here’s what you need to know about the infection that killed Gene Hackman’s wife, Betsy Arakawa

Can Andes virus be treated?

There is no specific antiviral drug for Andes virus. Health care for infected people focuses on close monitoring, supporting their breathing and managing complications to the heart and kidneys.

There is no licensed vaccine to prevent Andes virus.

However, there is also good news in how quickly the scientific response has come together after this outbreak started. Swiss laboratories collaborated quickly to sequence the complete genetic code of the virus from one patient and made it publicly available within days.

This gave researchers around the world a reference to compare other cases against. This can support faster confirmation of suspected cases, while helping public health teams identify which cases are linked to the outbreak and who needs monitoring or isolation.

Bottom line

The instinct to see another COVID in every viral outbreak is understandable but, in this case, misleading.

The Andes virus is dangerous to those infected, but it isn’t a good candidate for pandemic spread. It incubates slowly, typically spreads through close contact, and transmission appears most efficient when people are symptomatic.

It’s important to get the Andes virus under control but it’s not a pandemic threat like COVID.

Rhys Parry receives funding from the Australian Research Council (ARC) and the National Health and Medical Research Council (NHMRC).

– ref. Hantavirus is very different to COVID. Here’s why the ‘Andes virus’ won’t cause the next pandemic – https://theconversation.com/hantavirus-is-very-different-to-covid-heres-why-the-andes-virus-wont-cause-the-next-pandemic-282595

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By John Kerr, Senior Research Fellow, Department of Public Health, University of Otago

Four percent of Americans – roughly 12 million people – believe that “lizard people” secretly control the Earth. At least, that was the finding of an infamous 2013 public opinion survey.

Do so many people really believe such outlandish claims? Or do results like these partly reflect people giving silly answers or deliberately skewing surveys for fun?

US psychiatrist Alexander Scott believes the latter plays a significant role.

Using the survey as an example, he coined the term “the Lizardman constant” to describe the idea that a certain amount of noise and trolling will always exist in surveys about unusual beliefs.

As Scott warned: “Any possible source of noise – jokesters, cognitive biases, or deliberate misbehaviour – can easily overwhelm the signal.”

As researchers who study uncommon beliefs such as conspiracy theories, we wanted to investigate how this kind of cheeky trolling can muddy the waters.

Trolls and true believers

Building on earlier Australian research, we surveyed New Zealanders to test how common dishonest or joking responses were in conspiracy theory surveys.

We did this in two ways. First, we directly asked people a yes/no question at the end of the survey:

“Did you respond insincerely at any earlier point in this survey? In other words, did you give any responses that were actually just joking, trolling, or otherwise not indicating what you really think?”

Second, we included in the survey a “conspiracy theory” so ridiculous we could assume most, if not all, people who said they believed it were taking the mickey.

We asked them if they believed:

The Canadian Armed Forces have been secretly developing an elite army of genetically engineered, super intelligent, giant raccoons to invade nearby countries.

In our representative online sample of 810 New Zealanders, 8.3% of respondents confessed to being insincere in the survey.

Another 7.2% said they thought the Canadian raccoon army theory was probably or definitely true. That proportion – similar to findings from Australia – would equate to more than 300,000 adult New Zealanders.

To complicate things slightly, there was some overlap between those admitting to insincere answers and those claiming to believe the raccoon conspiracy. Combined, 13.3% of respondents fell into one or both groups – roughly one in eight people not appearing to take the survey seriously.

Importantly, these respondents were also much more likely to endorse other conspiracy theories, inflating estimates of how widespread those beliefs really are.

For instance, 6.5% of the full sample endorsed the claim that governments around the world are covering up the fact that 5G mobile networks spread coronavirus.

But once we removed the insincere responders, that figure dropped by more than half to 2.7%.

Across 13 different conspiracy theories, the estimated proportion of believers fell substantially once those respondents were excluded.

Another interesting insight from our study was that people endorsing contradictory conspiracy theories were much more likely to show signs of responding insincerely.

Previous studies have found some people appear to believe conspiracy theories that directly contradict each other. In our survey, for example, some participants agreed both that COVID-19 is a myth and that governments are covering up the fact that 5G networks spread the virus.

But nearly three-quarters of those respondents also showed signs of joking or dishonest answers.

This suggests genuinely believing contradictory conspiracy theories may be less common than previously thought.

Not every conspiracy believer is joking

Our findings add further weight to the idea that surveys may overestimate how many people truly believe some conspiracy theories – thanks, in part, to trolls.

But does that mean all conspiracy theory research is bunk?

Fortunately not. Most research in this area is not focused on counting conspiracy believers, but on understanding why people hold these beliefs and what effects they can have.

We tested several well-established findings from earlier conspiracy theory research to see whether they still held up once insincere respondents were removed from the data.

For example, previous studies have found that people who endorse conspiracy theories are more likely to see the world as a dangerous and threatening place.

We found the same pattern. In fact, removing insincere respondents made little difference to the broader relationships identified in earlier research.

Nevertheless, we recommend that future surveys include ways to gauge whether respondents are answering sincerely and account for this in the analysis. At the very least, researchers should acknowledge that trolls and joking responses can distort their results.

While our research suggests some people are taking the mickey in surveys, it also shows a significant minority genuinely appear to believe some of these claims.

In some cases – such as believing authorities are covering up the fact that the Earth is flat – this may be relatively harmless. But other conspiracy beliefs can lead to real-world harm.

Good-quality research is essential for understanding how sincere believers end up down these rabbit holes, and how those beliefs influence real-world behaviour.

Research into why people embrace conspiracy theories – and the real-world consequences of those beliefs – remains important.

But when surveys suggest millions may believe in lizard overlords or genetically engineered raccoon armies, it is also worth remembering the “Lizardman constant”: some respondents may simply be having us on.

The authors acknowledge the contributions of Rob Ross, Mathew Ling and Stephen Hill to this article.

John Kerr is supported by a Royal Society Te Apārangi Mana Tūānuku Research Leader Fellowship.

This research was supported by the Marsden Fund Council from Government funding, managed by Royal Society Te Apārangi.

Mathew Marques 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. Conspiracy theories: do 300,000 Kiwis really believe Canada is building an army of mutant super-raccoons? – https://theconversation.com/conspiracy-theories-do-300-000-kiwis-really-believe-canada-is-building-an-army-of-mutant-super-raccoons-282478

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Julien Cooper, Lecturer, Department of History and Archaeology, Macquarie University

We have been on a years-long campaign of satellite remote sensing of the vast desert landscapes in Eastern Sudan.

This involved using satellite aerial imagery to systematically and painstakingly search for archaeological features in Atbai Desert of Eastern Sudan, a small part of the much larger Sahara.

Our team – which includes archaeologists from Macquarie University, France’s HiSoMA research unit, and the Polish Academy of Sciences – wanted to tell the story of this desert region between the Nile and the Red Sea, without having to excavate.

One mysterious archaeological feature stood out. We kept finding large, circular mass graves filled with the bones of people and animals, often carefully arranged around a key person at the centre.

Likely built around the fourth and third millennia BCE, all these “enclosure burial” monuments have a large round enclosure wall, some up to 80 metres in diameter, with humans and their cattle, sheep and goats buried inside.

Our new research, published in the journal African Archaeological Review, reveals how we found 260 previously unknown enclosure burials east of the Nile River, across almost 1,000km of desert.

Who built them?

Already known from a few excavated examples in the Egyptian and Sudanese deserts, these large circular burial monuments have long puzzled scholars.

What seemed once isolated examples emerge now as a consistent pattern. It is suggestive of a common nomadic culture stretching across a vast stretch of desert.

Most are within the borders of modern Sudan on the slopes of the Red Sea Hills. Unfortunately, satellite imagery alone cannot communicate the whole story of these enclosure burial builders.

The carbon dates and pottery from the few excavated monuments tell us these people lived roughly 4000–3000 BCE, just before Egyptians formed a territorial kingdom we know of as Pharaonic Egypt.

But these “enclosure burial” nomads had little to do with urbane and farming Egyptians.

Living in the desert and raising herds, these were Saharan desert nomads through and through.

A new elite?

Some enclosures show “secondary” burials arranged around a “primary” burial of a person at the centre – perhaps a chief or other important member of the community.

For archaeologists, this is important data for discerning class and hierarchy in prehistoric societies.

The question of when Saharan nomads became less egalitarian has plagued archaeologists for decades, but most agree it was around this time of the fourth millennium BCE that a distinctive “elite” class emerged.

This is still a far cry from the sort of huge divisions between ruler and ruled as seen in societies such as Egypt, with its pharaohs and farmers. However, it ushers in the first traces of inequality.

Animals held in high esteem

Cattle seem very important to these prehistoric nomads (a theory also supported by ancient local rock art in the area).

Burying themselves alongside their herd, these nomads show they held their animals in esteem.

Thousands of years later, local nomads chose to reuse these now “ancient” enclosures for their burial plots – sometimes almost 4,000 years after they were first built.

In other words, the prehistoric nomads created cemetery spaces that lasted for millennia.

What happened to these people?

No one can say for sure.

The few dates we have for these monuments cluster between 4000–3000 BCE, nearing the end of a period when the once-greener Sahara was drying, a phase scientists call the “African Humid Period”.

From north to south, the summer monsoon gradually retreated, reducing rainfall and shrinking pastures. This led nomads to abandon thirsty cattle, increase the mobility of their herds, migrate to the south or flee to the Nile.

The monuments are overwhelmingly located near what were then favourable watering spots; near rocky pools in valley floors, lakebeds and ephemeral rivers.

This tells us that when the monuments were being built, the desert was already quite challenging and dry.

At some point, as grass and bush made way for sand and rocks, keeping their prized cattle became unsustainable.

Having large herds of cattle in this desert, at this period, may have been a way of showing off an expensive and rare possession – a prehistoric nomad’s equivalent to having a Ferrari. This may help explain why cattle were frequently buried alongside their owners in enclosure burial monuments.

A bigger story

These enclosure burials are only one part of the greater story of human adaptation to climate change across North Africa.

From the Central Sahara, to Kenya and Arabia, keeping cattle, goats and sheep transformed societies. It changed the food they ate, the way they moved around, and community hierarchies.

It’s no coincidence communities changed how they buried their dead at the same time as they adopted herding lifestyles.

These burial enclosures tell us even scattered nomads were extremely well-organised people, and expert adapters.

Our discovery reshapes the story of the Sahara deserts and the prehistory of the Nile.

They provide a prologue for the monumentalism of the kingdoms of Egypt and Nubia, and an image of this region as more than pharaohs, pyramids and temples.

Sadly, many of these enclosure monuments are currently being destroyed or vandalised as a result of unregulated mining in the region. These unique burials have survived for millennia, but can disappear in less than a week.

Maria Gatto (Polish Academy of Sciences) was an author on our paper. We also want to acknowledge Alexander Carter, Tung Cheung, Kahn Emerson, Jessica Larkin, Stuart Hamilton and Ethan Simpson from Macquarie University for their contribution. We are also grateful to the National Corporation of Antiquities and Museums (Sudan).

Julien Cooper receives funding from the Australian Research Council, (Future Fellowship, FT230100067).

Maël Crépy receives funding from the CNRS (HiSoMA) and the Ifao (NOMADES research program).

Marie Bourgeois receives funding from Ifao (NOMADES research program).

– ref. We found hundreds of huge ancient mass graves hidden in the Sahara desert – https://theconversation.com/we-found-hundreds-of-huge-ancient-mass-graves-hidden-in-the-sahara-desert-281978

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Tanya Latty, Associate Professor in Entomology, University of Sydney

Imagine trying to build a house without a blueprint, find a shortcut through an unfamiliar city without a map, or govern a large organisation with no leaders and no meetings.

It sounds impossible. Yet tiny-brained ants, working without leaders or blueprints, have been solving problems like these for millions of years – and no, the queen isn’t the boss telling them what to do.

By almost any measure, ants are a wildly successful group of animals – there’s an estimated 20 quadrillion of them on Earth and they thrive on every continent but Antarctica.

How have these minuscule animals managed to take over the world (and our kitchens)? The answer is teamwork.

Bustling colonies

Ants are social animals that live in colonies ranging from a few individuals to vast continent-spanning supercolonies containing billions of ants.

Bustling ant colonies display many of the features we associate with human societies, including:

• transportation networks
• collective care of the young
• food systems (including agriculture in some species)
• health care for injured nestmates.

In humans, this level of social complexity usually involves clear governance hierarchies, with leaders and middle managers directing our activities.

But ants don’t work that way. So who is in charge in an ant colony?

The answer is simple: no one.

The queen isn’t in charge

Ant colonies are a classic example of a self-organised system, where complex behaviour emerges from the combined actions of many ants. Each follow relatively simple rules while communicating and interacting with each other.

The human brain works in a similar way: individual neurons have simple behaviours and cannot think on their own, but together they give rise to the full range of human thought and behaviour.

The queen, whom many people assume is in charge, has little involvement in decision-making or leadership.

Instead, her role is to maintain the colony’s workforce by producing new ants.

In some ant species, workers will even kill their queens under particular conditions, such as declining productivity!

By working together, ant colonies are capable of complex behaviours and problem-solving skills far exceeding the abilities of an individual ant.

For example, some ant species run sophisticated transportation networks linking their colony to many food sources.

When a foraging worker finds a good source of food, such as some crumbs in your kitchen, she lays down drops of attractive chemicals called “pheromones” as she walks home.

Other ants in the colony are attracted to the trail, reinforcing it with more pheromones as they go. As a result, the colony can rapidly deploy large numbers of workers to quickly collect food.

While an individual ant is only aware of the foods she herself has visited, the trail network allows the colony as a whole to be “aware” of many foods.

Should a food source disappear or decline in quality, the colony can quickly refocus its efforts.

Ants can also optimise their trail networks by finding shortcuts.

Since pheromone trails evaporate over time, shorter paths that are traversed more quickly get reinforced more often. Longer paths, by contrast, receive less traffic and get reinforced less often, which in turn causes the pheromone trail to fade and become less attractive.

This simple feedback loop allows the colony to “discover” shorter routes that take less time to traverse while eliminating longer routes.

The resulting transportation network can be remarkably efficient.

Remarkable architects

Nest construction is another impressive example of the power of self-organisation.

Ant nests can be vast and intricately structured, with chambers for raising the young, food storage, and waste.

Yet no ant has a blueprint for the final nest design, nor is a boss ant in charge of directing construction activities.

Instead, ants use simple rules to create their remarkable nest architecture.

For example, in the black garden ant Lasius niger, nest building ants excavate soil and form it into small pellets.

These pellets carry chemical cues making other ants more likely to deposit their own pellets nearby.

Over time, this leads to the formation of structures such as pillars, walls, and eventually roofs, without any ant understanding the overall design.

This process, where individuals respond to cues left behind by other individuals, is called “stigmergy” and it underpins the construction of other insect-built structures such as termite mounds and honeycomb.

More humans, more problems – but not so for ants

The use of simple behavioural rules enables ants to coordinate remarkably effectively as a group.

In a study where groups were tasked with moving a T-shaped object through a tight space, human performance did not improve with group size.

When participants were instructed not to speak, performance actually declined as groups got bigger.

Similarly, it has long been known that as human group size increases, the performance of individual team members tends to decrease, a phenomenon known as the Ringelmann effect.

Ants, by contrast, showed the opposite pattern: as group size increased, their performance actually improved.

So next time you see a line of ants marching around your house, resist the urge to spray or whack them away.

Instead, take a moment to appreciate these tiny masters of teamwork.

Tanya Latty co-founded and volunteers for conservation organisation Invertebrates Australia, is former president of the Australasian Society for the Study of Animal Behaviour and is on the Education committee for the Australian Entomological Society. She receives funding from the Australian Research Council, NSW Saving our Species, and Agrifutures Australia.

– ref. In an ant colony, the queen isn’t in charge. So who is? – https://theconversation.com/in-an-ant-colony-the-queen-isnt-in-charge-so-who-is-278196

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Joel Scanlan, Adjunct Associate Professor, School of Law; Academic Co-Lead, CSAM Deterrence Centre, University of Tasmania

As of May 8 end-to-end encryption is no longer available on direct messages on Instagram.

Meta, in announcing the policy reversal, said it had done so because few people used the feature. But this has raised questions about its impact on user privacy and whether it will improve child safety on the platform.

Instagram has long been a focal point for discussion about online safety – whether in relation to body image concerns, cyberbullying or sexual extortion. This policy change by Meta directly affects how safety and moderation are implemented in private messages.

This is important considering research has found that perpetrators first contacted roughly 23% of Australian sexual extortion victims on Instagram, the second most frequent method of contact, behind Snapchat (at 50%).

What is end-to-end encryption?

End-to-end encryption is a way of scrambling a message so only the sender’s and recipient’s devices can read it. The platform carrying the message, in this case Instagram, can’t access it.

This same technology is present by default on WhatsApp, Signal, iMessage, and (since late 2023) Facebook Messenger.

Meta’s CEO Mark Zuckerberg first promised to bring end-to-end encryption across Meta’s messaging products back in 2019, under the slogan “the future is private”.

Instagram tested encrypted direct messages in 2021. It rolled them out as an opt-in feature in 2023.

End-to-end encrypted direct messages never became the default, and the low adoption rate of opting in to use the feature is Meta’s justification for removing it. As a spokesperson told The Guardian:

Very few people were opting in to end-to-end encrypted messaging in DMs, so we’re removing this option from Instagram.

There is a circular logic to this: Meta has killed off a feature it buried so deep that most users never knew it existed, then cited low usage as the reason for its removal.

What does this mean for Instagram users?

In practical terms, every message you send on Instagram now travels in a form Meta can read.

Meta’s privacy policy lists the content of messages users send and receive among the data it collects. In principle, this enables the company to use this data to personalise features, train artificial intelligence (AI) models, and deliver targeted advertising.

While Meta has publicly committed not to train its AI models on private messages unless users actively share them with Meta AI, it has made no equivalent public commitment about advertising.

That leaves open the possibility that Meta could use unencrypted Instagram direct messages for ad targeting. And without encryption, Meta’s AI commitment is now backed by policy alone, not by the technology itself.

A clear reversal

This reads as a clear reversal of Meta’s privacy-first posture which Zuckerberg announced seven years ago.

Meta has been under sustained pressure from law enforcement, regulators and child protection organisations who argue end-to-end encryption creates spaces where platforms can’t detect child sexual exploitation and grooming. Australia’s eSafety Commissioner has been clear that the deployment of end-to-end encryption “does not absolve services of responsibility for hosting or facilitating online abuse or the sharing of illegal content”.

This argument deserves to be taken seriously. The harms are real and disproportionately fall on young people.

However, sexual extortion research shows perpetrators don’t tend to stay on the platform where they make first contact, with more than 50% of sexual extortion victims saying perpetrators asked them to switch platforms.

Meta still uses end-to-end encryption on its other platforms, such as WhatsApp and Facebook Messenger, and it needs to apply a consistent approach to child safety. Predators routinely ask victims to switch platforms, so the company’s safety approach needs to work for Instagram and their end-to-end encrypted services.

A false choice

Meta and privacy advocates often frame this as a choice between end-to-end encryption or child safety. But that’s a false choice. It’s not an “either-or” situation, even if they make it sound like one.

The technology already exists to detect harmful content while keeping messages encrypted in transit. It just has to run in the right place: on the user’s device, before the device encrypts and sends the message, or after it receives and decrypts it.

On-device approaches have a contested history, and any deployment must be genuinely privacy-preserving by design. But technology companies must weigh the objection against the harms that continue to occur. A safety by design approach is needed.

On-device safety measures have been demonstrated at scale with Apple’s on-device nudity detection for images sent or received via Messages, AirDrop and FaceTime. A 2025 study demonstrated high-accuracy grooming detection using Meta’s AI model designed specifically for on-device deployment on mobile phones.

Recently, both Apple and Google have started to take measures towards app store–based age verification in some jurisdictions.

The highest-profile real-world deployment of these is Apple enabling device-level privacy-preserving age verification in the UK.

Social media and private messaging companies, along with operating system vendors (Microsoft, Apple, and Google), all have a role to play in ensuring harmful content is detected, whether or not end-to-end encryption is used. Progress has been slow. But we, as a community, need to demand more from these companies.

Joel Scanlan is the academic co-lead of the CSAM Deterrence Centre, which is a partnership between the University of Tasmania and Jesuit Social Services, who operate Stop It Now (Australia), a therapeutic service providing support to people who are concerned with their own, or someone else’s, feelings towards children. He has received funding from the Australian Research Council, Australian Institute of Criminology, the eSafety Commissioner, Lucy Faithfull Foundation and the Internet Watch Foundation.

– ref. Instagram can now read all users’ private messages. Will this make kids safer or just boost ad targeting? – https://theconversation.com/instagram-can-now-read-all-users-private-messages-will-this-make-kids-safer-or-just-boost-ad-targeting-282496

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Vanessa Pirotta, Postdoctoral Researcher and Wildlife Scientist, Macquarie University

In the Strait of Gibraltar – a famous marine road connecting the Mediterranean and the Atlantic – lives a critically endangered sub-population of a few hundred long-finned pilot whales (Globicephala melas).

Despite their name, these dark and blubbery marine mammals aren’t technically whales – they’re large oceanic dolphins which are believed to have a navigator or lead for each pod. Hence the “pilot” part of their name.

There are two types of pilot whales – short and long-finned. They’re generally found in deep offshore waters but can appear in coastal areas. And like other dolphins, they use high frequency sounds to talk to each other in their pods. These clicks and squeaks travel shorter distances compared with the melodic songs of humpback whales.

And as a new paper led by Milou Hegeman from Aarhus University in Denmark and published in the Journal of Experimental Biology shows, the pilot whales that live in the Strait of Gibraltar are having to shout at the upper limit of their range in order to hear each other over human noises.

What’s making all that noise?

The ocean is full of sounds.

Some of these are natural, such as the sounds from fish, seals and waves. Other sounds are produced by human activities, either deliberately (for example seismic and sonar exploration) or unintentionally (for example, the sound of moving ships or other vessels).

The ocean continues to get noisier because of human-made sound – even in isolated Arctic regions. And because of its strategic location, the Strait of Gibraltar is especially noisy with the drone of cargo ships.

Spying on pilot whales

To investigate the communication and behaviour of the population of pilot whales in the Strait of Gibraltar, scientists used 6-metre poles to attach small tags to the creatures (kind of like an Airtag used to track your suitcase) with sterile suction cups positioned between the dorsal fin and blowhole.

Between 2012 to 2015, the steam attached tags to 23 different long-finned pilot whales who live in the region year-round.

These tags remained on pilot whales for up to 24 hours collecting sounds and tracking individual behaviour. The tags then floated to the surface where scientists could locate them using an antenna and collect the data from their diving activities.

More than 84 hours of recordings were made, with 1,432 pilot whale calls extracted. The tags also recorded ship noise in the area.

The researchers found there was a scarcity of pilot whale calls during periods of shipping noise. And the volume of the calls they did make were louder by about half the increase in background noise.

This means the animals are adapting to communicate in times when it is noisy – kind of like having a conversation in a crowded place and you having to raise your voice to be heard.

Other noises, other impacts

This study focuses on just one location in the ocean. But there’s increasing evidence that human-made noise is also impacting other species in other places.

For example, a 2012 study found that ship noise increases stress in right whales. Another study from 2024 found sea turtles travelling in the Galapagos were more vigilant because of increased ship noise.

But it’s not just ship noise that is impacting the animals that live in the ocean. Sonar disrupts whale diving behaviour and feeding behaviour, sometimes even potentially resulting in strandings.

Thankfully, work is being done to reduce noise pollution in the ocean – from building quieter ships to rerouting ship activity, helping ship operators drive more quietly and dialling down the noise from all human activities.

This new study is just one of many scientific contributions to learning more about our impact on our blue backyard. We can only protect what we know. And as we celebrate the 100th birthday of Sir David Attenborough, it’s worth remembering one of his many pieces of wisdom: “If we save the sea, we save our world”.

Part of this involves being more aware of sound in our sea. Because sometimes, it’s not always the visible impacts such as plastic pollution that need our attention. It might also be the impacts we can only hear.

Vanessa Pirotta 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. Squeak up! I can’t hear you: pilot whales are shouting to hear themselves over ship noise – https://theconversation.com/squeak-up-i-cant-hear-you-pilot-whales-are-shouting-to-hear-themselves-over-ship-noise-282394

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Victoria Lorrimar, Director, Centre for Technology and Human Futures, University of Notre Dame Australia

Some time earlier this year, an employee at tech giant Meta built a system to track how much each staff member was using artificial intelligence (AI).

Named “Claudeonomics” after the Claude chatbot, the system created a leaderboard ranked by the number of tokens each user was exchanging with AI models, with leaders given titles such as “Token Legend”. (Tokens are tiny chunks of text, each around four characters long, that language models use for processing.)

Meta is not alone in its fascination with “tokenmaxxing”: AI labs OpenAI and Anthropic, e-commerce company Shopify, and tech investment firm Sequoia capital are all reportedly monitoring AI usage and rewarding heavy users, some of whom burn billions of tokens in a week.

Reducing a person’s performance to a single metric can be appealing for management in large corporations. But the choice of what to measure isn’t a neutral one – and if we’re not careful, it can start to rewrite our vision of what we actually value.

The score keeps the score

One of the more full-throated advocates of tokenmaxxing is Jensen Huang, chief executive of chipmaker Nvidia, who envisions a future in which tech employees negotiate high token budgets and consume tokens at rates commensurate with their salaries. Around 80% of those tokens are currently processed via Nvidia’s chips, so Huang’s enthusiasm makes sense.

But is token consumption a helpful metric for those of us who do not profit directly from AI processing volume?

In a recent book, The Score, philosopher C. Thi Nguyen analyses the rise of metrics throughout modern society and offers some helpful insights.

As Nguyen emphasises, what we measure shapes our goals. We develop metrics as tools of convenience; they standardise our measurement of values so we can compare large numbers of otherwise disparate things.

This standardisation comes at the expense of variation and distinctiveness, Nguyen argues. In business, it can make workers seem interchangeable.

Determining which employees in a large organisation are consuming the most tokens in a week is fairly straightforward. But it tells us nothing about the quality or impact of their work.

Bad metrics, bad results

In the past, questionable metrics have contributed to dramatically bad outcomes.

Prior to the 2008 global financial crisis, for example, many financial institutions had sophisticated systems of measures designed to incentivise selling as many loans as possible, as quickly as possible. Perhaps unsurprisingly, many of those loans turned out to be far riskier than anyone realised.

Nguyen emphasises that these types of metrics can tempt us into thinking they are unavoidable. But one of the central lessons of moral philosophy is that we ought to pause at moments like these and ask a couple of basic questions: what is a good life, and what values are actually worth chasing?

Huang and others usually don’t present tokenmaxxing as an answer to these question. But that’s how it functions. What is worth devoting your professional and creative energy to? Simple: grinding through tokens.

A new vision of the good life?

Silicon Valley has, of late, produced a striking number of manifestos and quasi-constitutions.

Consider Anthropic’s Claude’s Constitution, published in January 2026, which sets out the company’s aspirations for its model’s values and speech. Or look at venture capitalist Marc Andreessen’s Techno-Optimist Manifesto, which makes the case for ambitiously accelerating technological advancements in the service of promoting human flourishing.

Some of the most influential texts in the history of moral and political philosophy take this form. Thomas Jefferson wrote one – the US Declaration of Independence. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels wrote another – The Communist Manifesto.

One way to view these Silicon Valley proclamations, and trends like tokenmaxxing, is as repackaging familiar commonplaces of corporate life – recasting mission statements and key performance indicators in a loftier register. But another is to see them as attempts to do something far more ambitious: sketch the outlines of a new and far-reaching vision of the good life.

On that view, the metrics used to measure progress against the vision matter. Tokenmaxxing, for example, is already creeping beyond the bounds of the tech industry – one report from the Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania suggests many organisations are prioritising staff AI usage and spending as metrics.

Metrics can be useful – if we’re careful

Metrics do have their place in an ordered and complex society. There are many instances in which we might happily defer to the scores produced by simple metrics, trading nuance for convenience. Aggregate ratings on product or restaurant review sites, for example, can simplify our decision-making, even if they aren’t tailored to our specific preferences.

The problem is what Nguyen calls “value capture” – when we uncritically allow external metrics to determine our own goals and behaviour. Resisting this process involves questioning what is being measured and reframing it.

Instead of counting tokens, for example, we might use an equivalent metric such as energy consumption. Energymaxxing might sound more like conspicuous wastage, rather than improved performance.

Counting tokens is one measure of AI activity, which is itself intended as a measure of productivity, which in turn leaves aside the question of what is being produced. Not only is tokenmaxxing a dubious metric in itself, but it may also distort our vision of what matters.

Victoria Lorrimar receives funding from the John Templeton Foundation.

Tim Smartt 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. Silicon Valley’s AI ‘tokenmaxxing’ obsession has a big problem – and philosophers saw it coming – https://theconversation.com/silicon-valleys-ai-tokenmaxxing-obsession-has-a-big-problem-and-philosophers-saw-it-coming-281530