Category: The Conversation – Global Perspectives

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Marlee Bower, Senior Research Fellow, Matilda Centre for Research in Mental Health and Substance Use, University of Sydney

Without even realising it, your world sometimes gradually gets smaller: less walking, fewer days in the office, cancelling on friends. Watching plans disintegrate on the chat as friends struggle to settle on a date or place for a catch-up.

You might start to feel a bit flat or disconnected. Subtle changes in habit and mood take hold. Could you be … lonely?

It’s not a label many of us identify with easily, especially if you know you’ve got friends, or are in a happy relationship.

But loneliness can happen to us all from time to time – and identifying it is the first step to fixing it.

So, what is loneliness?

Loneliness is the distress we feel when our relationships don’t meet our needs – in quality or quantity.

It’s not the same as being objectively alone (otherwise known as “social isolation”).

You can feel deeply lonely even while surrounded by friends, or totally content on your own.

Loneliness is subjective; many people don’t realise they’re lonely until the feeling becomes persistent.

What are some of the signs to look for?

You may feel a physical coldness, emptiness or hollowness (I’ve heard it described as feeling like you are missing an organ). Some research shows social pain is experienced similarly in the brain to physical pain.

Behavioural signs may include:

• changes in routine
• trouble getting to sleep or staying asleep
• changed appetite (maybe you’re eating more or less than you normally would, or have less variety in your diet)
• withdrawing from plans you would usually enjoy (perhaps you’re skipping a regular exercise class, or going to shows or sports events less often).

Emotionally, you may feel:

• a persistent sadness
• tired
• disconnected
• like you don’t belong, even when you are with others.

You may also feel more sensitive to rejection or criticism.

But you’re not alone and you’re not broken.

Loneliness is a normal response to disconnection.

The late US neuroscientist John Cacioppo described loneliness as an evolutionary alarm system.

In the past, being separated from your tribe meant danger and risk from predators, so our brains developed a way to push us back towards connection.

The pain of loneliness is designed to keep us connected and safe.

Why is it often hard to recognise loneliness?

Sadly, there’s still a lot of stigma around admitting loneliness, especially for men.

Many people resist identifying as lonely, or feel this marks them as a “loser”.

But this silence can make the problem worse.

When no one talks about it, it becomes harder to break the cycle of loneliness, and the stigma remains.

While passing loneliness is normal, chronic or persistent loneliness can hurt our health.

Research shows chronic loneliness is associated with:

• depression
• anxiety
• weakened immunity
• heart disease
• earlier death.

Loneliness can also become self-reinforcing. When loneliness feels normal, it can start to shape how you see the world: you expect rejection, withdraw more and the cycle deepens.

The earlier you notice you’re lonely, the easier it is to break.

But I’m in a relationship, have loads of friends and a rewarding job

Yes, but you can still be lonely.

Most of us need different kinds of relationships to thrive. It’s not about how many people you know, but whether you feel connected and have a meaningful role in these relationships.

You may feel lonely even with strong friendships if you are lacking deeper connection, shared identity or a sense of community.

This doesn’t mean you’re ungrateful, or a bad friend.

It just means you need more or different kinds of connection.

OK, I’ve realised I am lonely. Now what?

Start by asking yourself: what kind of connection am I missing?

Is it one-to-one friendships? A partner? Casual social interactions? A shared purpose or community?

Then reflect on what’s helped you feel more connected in the past. For some, it’s joining a choir, a book club or a sports group. For others, it may be volunteering or just saying “yes” to small social moments, like chatting with your local barista or learning the name of the local butcher.

If you’re still struggling, a psychologist can help with tailored strategies for building connection.

The structural causes of loneliness

It’s also important to remember loneliness is often not because of personal failings or overall mental health.

My own research shows loneliness is often shaped by structural factors, such as poor planning in our local neighbourhood environments, financial inequality, work pressures, social norms, or even long-term effects of restrictions from the COVID pandemic.

We are also learning more about how climate change can disrupt social connection and worsen loneliness due to, for example, higher temperatures or bushfires.

Loneliness is normal, common, human and completely solvable.

Start by noticing it in yourself and reach out if you can.

Let’s start talking about it more, so others can feel less alone too.

Marlee Bower receives funding from the Henry Halloran Urban and Regional Research Initiative, the BHP Foundation, AHURI and NHMRC. She is affiliated with the University of Sydney Matilda Centre for Research in Mental Health and Substance Use and Australia’s Mental Health Think Tank.

– ref. How can I tell if I am lonely? What are some of the signs? – https://theconversation.com/how-can-i-tell-if-i-am-lonely-what-are-some-of-the-signs-261262

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Duncan Caillard, Postdoctoral Research Fellow, School of Communication Studies, Auckland University of Technology

Jason Momoa’s historical epic Chief of War, launching August 1 on Apple TV+, is a triumph of Hawaiians telling their own stories – despite the fact their film and TV production industry now struggles to be viable.

The series stars Momoa (Aquaman, Game of Thrones) as Kaʻaina, an ali’i (chief) who fights for – and later rises against – King Kamehameha I during the bloody reunification of Hawaii.

Already receiving advance praise, the nine-episode first season co-stars New Zealand actors Temeura Morrison, Cliff Curtis and Luciane Buchanan, alongside Hawaiian actors Kaina Makua, Brandon Finn and Moses Goods.

A passion project for Momoa, the Hawaiian star co-created the series with writer Thomas Pa’a Sibbett after years in development. With a reported budget of US$340 million, it is one of the most expensive television series ever produced.

It is also a milestone in Kānaka Maoli (Native Hawaiian) representation onscreen. Controversially, however, the production only spent a month in Hawaiʻi, and was mostly shot in New Zealand with non-Hawaiian crews.

Momoa has even expressed an interest in New Zealand citizenship, but the choice of location is more a reflection of the troubled state of the film industry in Hawaiʻi. On the other hand, it is a measure of the success of the New Zealand screen industry, with potential lessons for other countries in the Pacific.

Ea o Moʻolelo – story sovereignty

Set at the turn of the 19th century, Chief of War tells the moʻolelo (story, history) of King Kamehameha I’s conquest of the archipelago.

Hawaiʻi was historically governed by aliʻi nui (high chiefs), and each island was ruled independently. Motivated by the threat of European colonisation and empowered by Western weaponry, Kamehameha established the Hawaiian Kingdom, culminating in full unification in 1810.

The series is an important example of what authors Dean Hamer and Kumu Hinaleimoana Wong-Kalu have called “Ea o Moʻolelo”, or story sovereignty, which emphasises Indigenous peoples’ right to control their own narrative by respecting the “the inalienable right of a story to its own unique contents, style and purpose”.

Chief of War is also the biggest Hawaiian television series ever produced. Although Hawaiʻi remains a popular setting onscreen, these productions have rarely involved Hawaiians in key decision-making roles.

Sea of troubles

The series hits screens at a time of major disruption in Hollywood, with streaming services upending established business models.

“Linear” network television faces declining viewership and advertising revenue. Movie studios struggle to draw audiences to theatres. The consequences for workers in the the industry have been severe, as the 2023 writers strike showed.

Those changes have had a catastrophic impact on the Hawaiʻi film industry, too.

Long a popular location – Hawaii Five-O (1968-1980, 2010-2020), Magnum P.I. (1980-1988, 2018-2024) and Lost (2004-2010) were all shot on location in Hawaiʻi – it is an expensive place to film.

Actors, crew and production equipment often have to be flown in from the continental United States, and producers compete with tourism for costly accommodation.

An industry in transition

These are not uncommon problems in distant locations, and many governments try to attract screen productions through tax incentives and rebates on portions of the production costs.

New Zealand, for example, offers a 20-25% rebate for international productions and 40% for local productions. Hawaiʻi offers a 22-27% rebate.

But this is less than other US states offer, such as Georgia (30%), Louisiana (40%) and New Mexico (40%). Hawaiʻi also has an annual cap of US$50 million on rebates.

To make things even harder, Hawaiʻi offers only limited support for Indigenous filmmakers. Governments in Australia and New Zealand provide targeted funding and support for Aboriginal, Torres Strait Islander and Māori filmmakers.

By contrast, the Hawaiʻi Film Commission doesn’t provide direct grants to local filmmakers or producers (Indigenous or otherwise). Small amounts of government funding have been administered through the Public Broadcasting Service, but this is now in jeopardy after US President Donald Trump recently cut federal funding.

The Hawaiʻi screen industry faces a perfect storm. For the first time since 2004, film and TV production has ground to a halt. Many workers now doubt the long-term sustainability of their careers.

Lessons from Aotearoa NZ

While there are lessons Hawaiʻi legislators and industry leaders could learn from New Zealand’s example, there should also be a measure of caution.

The Hawaiʻi tax credit system is out of date. But despite industry lobbying, legislation to update it failed to reach the floor of the legislature earlier this year. New tax settings would help make local production viable again.

Secondly, decades of investment in Māori cinema have seen it become diverse, engaging and creatively accomplished. Hawaiʻi could benefit from greater direct investment in Hawaiian storytelling, respecting its cultural value even if it doesn’t turn a commercial profit.

On the other hand, New Zealand has a favourable currency exchange rate with the US which can’t be replicated in Hawaiʻi. And New Zealand film production workers have seen their rights to unionise watered down compared to their American peers.

But if Hawaiʻi can get its settings right, a possible second season of Chief of War may yet be filmed there, which could mark a genuine rejuvenation of its own film industry.

Duncan Caillard 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. A Hawaiian epic made in NZ: why Jason Momoa’s Chief of War wasn’t filmed in its star’s homeland – https://theconversation.com/a-hawaiian-epic-made-in-nz-why-jason-momoas-chief-of-war-wasnt-filmed-in-its-stars-homeland-261742

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Lucinda Chambers, PhD Candidate in Marine Bioacoustics, UNSW Sydney

Late in the evening, the Antarctic sky flushes pink. The male leopard seal wakes and slips from the ice into the water. There, he’ll spend the night singing underwater amongst the floating ice floes.

For the next two months he sings every night. He will sing so loudly, the ice around him vibrates. Each song is a sequence of trills and hoots, performed in a particular pattern.

In a world first, we analysed leopard seal songs and found the predictability of their patterns was remarkably similar to the nursery rhymes humans sing.

We think this is a deliberate strategy. While leopard seals are solitary animals, the males need their call to carry clearly across vast stretches of icy ocean, to woo a mate.

A season of underwater solos

Leopard seals (Hydrurga leptonyx) are named after their spotted coats. They live on ice and surrounding waters in Antarctica.

Leopard seals are especially vocal during breeding season, which lasts from late October to early January. A female leopard seal sings for a few hours on the days she is in heat. But the males are the real showstoppers.

Each night, the males perform underwater solos for up to 13 hours. They dive into the sea, singing underwater for about two minutes before returning to the water’s surface to breathe and rest. This demanding routine continues for weeks.

A male leopard seal weighs about 320 kilograms, but produces surprisingly high-pitched trills, similar to those of a tiny cricket.

Within a leopard seal population, the sounds themselves don’t vary much in pitch or duration. But the order and pattern in which the sounds are produced varies considerably between individuals.

Our research examined these individual songs. We compared them to that of other vocal animals, and to human music.

Listening to songs from the sea

The data used in the study was collected by one author of this article, Tracey Rogers, in the 1990s.

Rogers rode her quad bike across the Antarctic ice to the edge of the sea and marked 26 individual male seals with dye as they slept. Then she returned to record their songs at night.

The new research involved analysing these recordings, to better understand their structure and patterns. We did this by measuring the “entropy” of their sequences. Entropy measures how predictable or random a sequence is.

We found the songs are composed of five key “notes” or call types. Listen to each one below.

A remarkably predictable pattern

We then compared the songs of the male leopard seals with several styles of human music: baroque, classical, romantic and contemporary, as well as songs by The Beatles and nursery rhymes.

What stood out was the similarity between the predictability of human nursery rhymes and leopard seal calls. Nursery rhymes are simple, repetitive and easy to remember — and that’s what we heard in the leopard seal songs.

The range of “entropy” was similar to the 39 nursery rhymes from the Golden Song Book, a collection of words and sheet music for classic children’s songs, which was first published in 1945. It includes classics such:

• Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star
• Frère Jacques
• Ring Around a Rosy
• Baa, Baa, Black Sheep
• Humpty Dumpty
• Three Blind Mice
• Rockabye Baby.

For humans, the predictable structure of a nursery rhyme melody helps make it simple enough for a child to learn. For a leopard seal, this predictability may enable the individual to learn its song and keep singing it over multiple days. This consistency is important, because changes in pitch or frequency can create miscommunication.

Like sperm whales, leopard seals may also use song to set themselves apart from others and signal their fitness to reproduce. The greater structure in the songs helps ensure listeners accurately receive the message and identify who is singing.

An evolving song?

Leopard seals sound very different to humans. But our research shows the complexity and structure of their songs is remarkably similar to our own nursery rhymes.

Communication through song is a very common animal behaviour. However, structure and predictability in mammal song has only been studied in a handful of species. We know very little about what drives it.

Understanding animal communication is important. It can improve conservation efforts and animal welfare, and provide important information about animal cognition and evolution.

Technology has advanced rapidly since our recordings were made in the 1990s. In future, we hope to revisit Antarctica to record and study further, to better understand if new call types have emerged, and if patterns of leopard seal song evolve from generation to generation.

Tracey Rogers receives funding from ARC.

Lucinda Chambers 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. Rockabye baby: the ‘love songs’ of lonely leopard seals resemble human nursery rhymes – https://theconversation.com/rockabye-baby-the-love-songs-of-lonely-leopard-seals-resemble-human-nursery-rhymes-262113

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Amin Saikal, Emeritus Professor of Middle Eastern and Central Asian Studies, Australian National University; and Vice Chancellor’s Strategic Fellow, Victoria University

When it comes to dealing with two of the biggest current crises in the Muslim world – the devastation of Gaza and the Taliban’s draconian rule in Afghanistan – Arab and Muslim states have been staggeringly ineffective.

Their chief body, the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation (OIC), in particular, has been strong on rhetoric but very short on serious, tangible action.

The OIC, headquartered in Saudi Arabia, is composed of 57 predominantly Muslim states. It is supposed to act as a representative and consultative body and make decisions and recommendations on the major issues that affect Muslims globally. It calls itself the “collective voice of the Muslim world”.

Yet the body has proved to be toothless in the face of Israel’s relentless assault on Gaza, triggered in response to the Hamas attacks of October 7 2023.

The OIC has equally failed to act against the Taliban’s reign of terror in the name of Islam in ethnically diverse Afghanistan.

Many strong statements

Despite its projection of a united umma (the global Islamic community, as defined in my coauthored book Islam Beyond Borders), the OIC has ignominiously been divided on Gaza and Afghanistan.

True, it has condemned Israel’s Gaza operations. It’s also called for an immediate, unconditional ceasefire and the delivery of humanitarian aid to the starving population of the strip.

It has also rejected any Israeli move to depopulate and annex the enclave, as well as the West Bank. These moves would render the two-state solution to the long-running Israeli–Palestinian conflict essentially defunct.

Further, the OIC has welcomed the recent joint statement by the foreign ministers of 28 countries (including the United Kingdom, many European Union members and Japan) calling for an immediate ceasefire in Gaza, as well as France’s decision to recognise the state of Palestine.

The OIC is good at putting out statements. However, this approach hasn’t varied much from that of the wider global community. It is largely verbal, and void of any practical measures.

What the group could do for Gaza

Surely, Muslim states can and should be doing more.

For example, the OIC has failed to persuade Israel’s neighbouring states – Egypt and Jordan, in particular – to open their border crossings to allow humanitarian aid to flow into Gaza, the West Bank or Israel, in defiance of Israeli leaders.

Nor has it been able to compel Egypt, Jordan, the United Arab Emirates, Bahrain, Sudan and Morocco to suspend their relations with the Jewish state until it agrees to a two-state solution.

Further, the OIC has not adopted a call by Malaysian Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim and the United Nations special rapporteur on Palestinian territories, Francesca Albanese, for Israel to be suspended from the UN.

Nor has it urged its oil-rich Arab members, in particular Saudi Arabia and the UAE, to harness their resources to prompt US President Donald Trump to halt the supply of arms to Israel and pressure Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu to end the war.

Stronger action on Afghanistan, too

In a similar vein, the OIC has failed to exert maximum pressure on the ultra-extremist and erstwhile terrorist Taliban government in Afghanistan.

Since sweeping back into power in 2021, the Taliban has ruled in a highly repressive, misogynist and draconian fashion in the name of Islam. This is not practised anywhere else in the Muslim world.

In December 2022, OIC Secretary General Hissein Brahim Taha called for a global campaign to unite Islamic scholars and religious authorities against the Taliban’s decision to ban girls from education.

But this was superseded a month later, when the OIC expressed concern over the Taliban’s “restrictions on women”, but asked the international community not to “interfere in Afghanistan’s internal affairs”. This was warmly welcomed by the Taliban.

In effect, the OIC – and therefore most Muslim countries – have adopted no practical measures to penalise the Taliban for its behaviour.

It has not censured the Taliban nor imposed crippling sanctions on the group. And while no Muslim country has officially recognised the Taliban government (only Russia has), most OIC members have nonetheless engaged with the Taliban at political, economic, financial and trade levels.

Why is it so divided?

There are many reasons for the OIC’s ineffectiveness.

For one, the group is composed of a politically, socially, culturally and economically diverse assortment of members.

But more importantly, it has not functioned as a “bridge builder” by developing a common strategy of purpose and action that can overcome the geopolitical and sectarian differences of its members.

In the current polarised international environment, the rivalry among its member states – and with major global powers such as the United States and China – has rendered the organisation a mere talking shop.

This has allowed extremist governments in both Israel and Afghanistan to act with impunity.

It is time to look at the OIC’s functionality and determine how it can more effectively unite the umma.

This may also be an opportunity for its member states to develop an effective common strategy that could help the cause of peace and stability in the Muslim domain and its relations with the outside world.

Amin Saikal 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 Muslim world has been strong on rhetoric, short on action over Gaza and Afghanistan – https://theconversation.com/the-muslim-world-has-been-strong-on-rhetoric-short-on-action-over-gaza-and-afghanistan-262121

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Dee Ninis, Earthquake Scientist, Monash University

Today at about 11:30am local time, a magnitude 8.8 earthquake struck off the coast of Russia’s Kamchatka Peninsula in the country’s far east.

Originating at a depth of roughly 20 kilometres, today’s powerful earthquake – among the ten strongest in recorded history and the largest worldwide since 2011 – has caused building damage and injuries in the largest nearby city, Petropavlosk-Kamchatsky, just 119 kilometres from the epicentre.

Tsunami warnings and evacuations have reverberated through Russia, Japan and Hawaii, with advisories issued for the Philippines, Indonesia, and as far away as New Zealand and Peru.

The Pacific region is highly prone to powerful earthquakes and resulting tsunamis because it’s located in the so-called Ring of Fire, a region of heightened seismic and volcanic activity. All ten most powerful earthquakes recorded in modern history were located on the Ring of Fire.

Here’s why the underlying structure of our planet makes this part of the world so volatile.

Why does Kamchatka get such strong earthquakes?

Immediately offshore the Kamchatka Peninsula is the Kuril-Kamchatka Trench, a tectonic plate boundary where the Pacific Plate is being thrust beneath the Okhotsk Plate.

While tectonic plates move continuously relative to one another, the interface at tectonic plates is often “stuck”. The strain related to plate motion builds up until it exceeds the strength of the plate interface, at which point it is released as a sudden rupture – an earthquake.

Because of the large areas of interface at plate boundaries, both in length and depth, the rupture can span large areas of the plate boundary. This results in some of the largest and potentially most damaging earthquakes on earth.

Another factor that affects the rates and sizes of subduction zone earthquakes is the speed at which the two plates are moving relative to each other.

In the case of Kamchatka, the Pacific Plate is moving at approximately 75 millimetres per year relative to the Okhotsk plate. This is a relatively high speed by tectonic standards, and causes large earthquakes to happen more frequently here than in some other subduction zones. In 1952, a magnitude 9.0 earthquake occurred in the same subduction zone, only about 30 kilometres away from today’s magnitude 8.8 earthquake.

Other examples of subduction plate boundary earthquakes include the 2011 magnitude 9.1 Tohoku-Oki Japan earthquake, and the 2004 magnitude 9.3 Sumatra-Andaman Indonesia “Boxing Day” earthquake. Both of these initiated at a relatively shallow depth and ruptured the plate boundary right to the surface.

They uplifted one side of the sea floor relative to the other, displacing the ocean above it and resulting in devastating tsunamis. In the case of the Boxing Day earthquake, the sea floor rupture happened along a length spanning roughly 1,400km.

What is likely to happen next?

At time of writing, approximately six hours after the earthquake struck, there have already been 35 aftershocks larger than magnitude 5.0, according to the United States Geological Survey.

Aftershocks happen when stress within Earth’s crust is redistributed following the mainshock. They are often as large as one magnitude unit smaller than the mainshock. In the case of today’s earthquake, that means aftershocks larger than magnitude 7.5 are possible.

For an earthquake of this size, aftershocks can continue for weeks to months or longer, but they typically will reduce in both magnitude and frequency over time.

Today’s earthquake also produced a tsunami, which has already affected coastal communities on the Kamchatka Peninsula, the Kurile Islands, and Hokkaido, Japan.

Over the coming hours, the tsunami will propagate across the Pacific, reaching Hawaii approximately six hours after the earthquake struck and continuing as far as Chile and Peru.

Tsunami scientists will continue to refine their models of the tsunami’s effects as it propagates, and civil defence authorities will provide authoritative advice on the expected local effects.

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Read more:
Tsunami warnings are triggering mass evacuations across the Pacific – even though the waves look small. Here’s why

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What are the lessons from this earthquake for other parts of the world?

Fortunately, earthquakes as large as today’s occur infrequently. However, their effects locally and across the globe can be devastating.

Apart from its magnitude, several aspects of today’s Kamchatka earthquake will make it a particularly important focus of research.

For instance, the area has been seismically very active in recent months, and a magnitude 7.4 earthquake occurred on 20 July. How this previous activity affected the location and timing of today’s earthquake will be a crucial focus of that research.

Like Kamchatka and northern Japan, New Zealand also sits above a subduction zone – in fact, above two subduction zones. The larger of these, the Hikurangi subduction zone, extends offshore along the east coast of the North Island.

Based on the characteristics of this plate interface, and geological records of past earthquakes, it is likely the Hikurangi subduction zone is capable of producing earthquakes at magnitude 9. It hasn’t done so in historic times, but if that happened it would produce a tsunami.

The threat of a major subduction zone earthquake never goes away. Today’s earthquake in Kamchatka is an important reminder to everyone living in such earthquake-prone areas to stay safe and heed warnings from civil defence authorities.

Dee Ninis works at the Seismology Research Centre, is Vice-President of the Australian Earthquake Engineering Society, and a Committee Member for the Geological Society of Australia – Victoria Division.

John Townend receives funding from the Marsden and Catalyst Funds of the Royal Society Te Apārangi, the Natural Hazards Commission Toka Tū Ake, and the NZ Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment. He is a former president and director of the Seismological Society of America and president of the New Zealand Geophysical Society.

– ref. Kamchatka earthquake is among top 10 strongest ever recorded. Here’s what they have in common – https://theconversation.com/kamchatka-earthquake-is-among-top-10-strongest-ever-recorded-heres-what-they-have-in-common-262223

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Milad Haghani, Associate Professor and Principal Fellow in Urban Risk and Resilience, The University of Melbourne

Last night, one of the ten largest earthquakes ever recorded struck Kamchatka, the sparsely populated Russian peninsula facing the Pacific. The magnitude 8.8 quake had its epicentre in the sea just off the Kamchatka coast.

Huge quakes such as these can cause devastating tsunamis. It’s no surprise this quake has triggered mass evacuations in Russia, Japan and Hawaii.

But despite the enormous strength of the quake, the waves expected from the resulting tsunami are projected to be remarkably small. Four metre-high waves have been reported in Russia. But the waves are projected to be far smaller elsewhere, ranging from 30 centimetres to 1 metre in China, and between 1 and 3 metres in parts of Japan, Hawaii and the Solomon Islands, as well as Ecuador and Chile on the other side of the Pacific.

So why have authorities in Japan and parts of the United States announced evacuation orders? For one thing, tsunami waves can suddenly escalate, and even the smaller tsunami waves can pack surprising force. But the main reason is that late evacuation orders can cause panic and chaos. It’s far better to err on the side of caution.

Too early is far better than too late

When tsunami monitoring centres issue early warnings about waves, there’s often a wide range given. That represents the significant uncertainty about what the final wave size will be.

As earthquake scientists Judith Hubbard and Kyle Bradley write:

the actual wave height at the shore depends on the specific bathymetry [underwater topography] of the ocean floor and shape of the coastline. Furthermore, how that wave impacts the coast depends on the topography on land. Do not second-guess a tsunami warning: evacuate to higher ground and wait for the all-clear.

If the decision was left to ordinary people to decide whether to evacuate, many might look at the projected wave heights and think “what’s the problem?”. This is why evacuation is usually a job for experts.

Behavioural scientists have found people are more likely to follow evacuation advice if they perceive the risk is real, if they trust the authorities and if there are social cues such as friends, family or neighbours evacuating.

If evacuations are done well, authorities will direct people down safe roads to shelters or safe zones located high enough above the ocean.

When people outside official evacuation zones flee on their own, this is known as a shadow evacuation. It often happens when people misunderstand warnings, don’t trust official boundaries, or feel safer leaving “just in case”.

While understandable, shadow evacuations can overload roads, clog evacuation routes, and strain shelters and resources intended for those at greatest risk.

Vulnerable groups such as older people and those with a disability often evacuate more slowly or not at all, putting them at much greater risk.

In wealthy nations such as Japan where tsunamis are a regular threat, drills and risk education have made evacuations run more smoothly and get more people to evacuate.

Japan also has designated vertical shelters – buildings to which people can flee – as well as coastal sirens and signs pointing to tsunami “safe zones”.

By contrast, most developing nations affected by tsunamis don’t have these systems or infrastructure in place. Death tolls are inevitably higher as a result.

More accurate warnings, fewer false alarms

A false alarm occurs when a tsunami warning is issued, but no hazardous waves arrive. False alarms often stem from the need to act fast. Because tsunamis can reach coastlines within minutes of an undersea earthquake, early warnings are based on limited and imprecise data — mainly the quake’s location and magnitude — before the tsunami’s actual size or impact is known.

In the past, tsunami alerts were issued using worst-case estimates based on simple tables linking quake size and location to fixed alert levels. These did not account for complex uncertainties in how the seafloor moved or how energy translated into how much water was displaced.

Even when waves are small at sea, they can behave unpredictably near shore. Tide gauge readings are easily distorted by nearby bays, seafloor shape and water depth. This approach often came at the cost of frequent false alarms.

A stark example came in 1986, when Hawaii undertook a major evacuation following an earthquake off the Aleutian Islands. While the tsunami did arrive on time, the waves didn’t cause any flooding. The evacuation triggered massive gridlock, halted businesses and cost the state an estimated A$63 million.

In 1987, the United States launched the DART program. This network of deep-sea buoys across the Pacific and, later, globally, measure changes in ocean pressure in real time, allowing scientists to verify whether a tsunami has actually been generated and to estimate its size far more accurately.

When there’s a tsunami false alarm, it makes people more sceptical of evacuation orders and compliance drops. Some people want to see the threat with their own eyes. But this delays action – and heightens the danger.

Shifting from simple tables and inferences to observational data has significantly reduced false alarms and improved public confidence. Today’s tsunami warnings combine quake analysis with real-time ocean data.

What have we learned from past tsunamis?

In 2004, a huge 9.1 magnitude earthquake off the coast of Aceh in Indonesia triggered the Indian Ocean tsunami, the deadliest in recorded history. Waves up to 30 metres high inundated entire cities and towns.

More than 227,000 people died throughout the region, primarily in Indonesia, Sri Lanka, India and Thailand. All these countries had low tsunami preparedness. At the time, there were no tsunami warning systems in the Indian Ocean.

The even stronger 2011 earthquake and tsunami in Japan killed just under 20,000 people. It was a terrible toll, but far fewer than the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami. Evacuations took place and many people got to higher ground or into a high building.

In 2018, a 7.6 magnitude earthquake hit central Sulawesi in Indonesia, triggering tsunami waves up to 7 metres high. Citizen disbelief and a lack of clear communication meant many people did not evacuate in time. More than 4,000 people died.

These examples show the importance of warning systems and evacuations. But they also show their limitations. Even with warning systems in place, major loss of life can still ensue due to public scepticism and communication failures.

What should people do?

At their worst, tsunamis can devastate swathes of coastline and kill hundreds of thousands of people. They should not be underestimated.

If authorities issue an evacuation order, it is absolutely worth following. It’s far better to evacuate early and find a safe space in an orderly way, than to leave it too late and try to escape a city or town amid traffic jams, flooded roads and and widespread disruption.

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

– ref. Tsunami warnings are triggering mass evacuations across the Pacific – even though the waves look small. Here’s why – https://theconversation.com/tsunami-warnings-are-triggering-mass-evacuations-across-the-pacific-even-though-the-waves-look-small-heres-why-262224

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Zoe Doubleday, Marine Ecologist and ARC Future Fellow, University of South Australia

Every year off the South Australian coast, giant Australian cuttlefish come together in huge numbers to breed. They put on a technicolour display of blue, purple, green, red and gold, changing hues as they mate and lay eggs.

This dynamic, dreamlike display takes place in the upper Spencer Gulf, near Whyalla. This short strip of coastline is the only place in the world to host this spectacular event.

But South Australia’s killer algal bloom is advancing towards this natural wonder. If the algae reach the breeding site in the coming weeks or months, they could wipe the cuttlefish population out.

Now, scientists may have a chance to get there first, take some eggs and raise an insurance population in captivity. This rescue operation would be a world first.

Why are the cuttlefish so vulnerable?

The giant Australian cuttlefish congregate to mate in waters off Whyalla every winter, in a gathering known as a “breeding aggregation”. The sanctuary area received National Heritage status in 2023.

The displays of movement and colour take place as abundant males vie for the attention of a female. Each year it attracts tourists, photographers and marine life enthusiasts. To witness it, all you need is a thick wetsuit, mask and snorkel.

Cuttlefish are cephalopods, alongside octopus and squid. While cephalopods are adaptable to environmental change, their generations don’t overlap. This means the parents die before the offspring are born, and so the population cannot be replenished by the parents if the offspring are wiped out.

By now, in upper Spencer Gulf, most adult cuttlefish will be breeding and naturally dying off, leaving the eggs behind. They will incubate for about three months, then hatch and swim away.

What if the algal bloom reaches the cuttlefish?

The harmful microalgal bloom of Karenia mikimotoi first appeared in March this year on two surf beaches outside Gulf St Vincent, about an hour south of Adelaide. It is thought to have been triggered by a persistent marine heatwave coupled with prolonged calm weather, and possibly excess nutrients from the 2022–23 Murray River flooding event.

It has since spread to many corners of South Australia, and has now reached the lower to middle reaches of Spencer Gulf. Preliminary modelling revealed last week shows the bloom could spread through Spencer Gulf, up to Whyalla and across to Port Pirie.

The disaster has already affected about 400 types of fish and marine animals. And we know this algal species can rapidly dispatch cephalopods, both large and small. In other parts of South Australia already affected by the algal bloom, dead octopus and cuttlefish have been extensively photographed and recorded.

If the latest batch of eggs dies in the algal bloom, their parents will no longer be around to rebreed and restore the population next year. This means the population could go extinct.

Could we lose a species?

More than 100 cuttlefish species exist worldwide. The giant Australian cuttlefish is found throughout southern Australia, from Moreton Bay in Queensland to Ningaloo Reef in Western Australia.

However, the breeding aggregation is genetically distinct from even its closest cuttlefish neighbours in southern Spencer Gulf, about 200 kilometres away. And genetic evidence suggests the upper Spencer Gulf population could well be its own species, although scientists haven’t confirmed this yet.

Regardless, this cuttlefish population is truly unique. It is the only population of giant Australian cuttlefish, and the only population of cuttlefish worldwide, to breed en masse in such a spectacular fashion.

That’s why saving it from the algal bloom is so important.

Can we save this natural wonder?

Today I’ll be meeting with fellow marine and cephalopod experts at an emergency meeting convened by the South Australian government. There, we will discuss the feasibility of collecting an insurance population of eggs from the cuttlefish population.

Timing is everything. Two or three months from now, the eggs could be too developed to collect safely, because moving can trigger premature hatching. Even later, the eggs will have hatched and the hatchlings will have swum away.

Ironically, while the mass gathering of cuttlefish makes the species vulnerable to a permanent wipeout, it also makes them easier to rescue.

Collecting, transporting and raising eggs in tanks is a relatively straightforward process at a smaller scale. It has been done successfully for research purposes in South Australia.

Raising hatchlings is harder and more labour intensive. Then there is the question of what to do with them once they hatch. But the three-month incubation period would buy us time.

Zoe Doubleday receives funding from the Australian Research Council and is affiliated with the University of South Australia. She is also a Director of the Southern Ocean Discovery Centre and Board Member of the Aquaculture Tenure Allocation Board (Government of South Australia).

– ref. The giant cuttlefish’s technicolour mating display is globally unique. The SA algal bloom could kill them all – https://theconversation.com/the-giant-cuttlefishs-technicolour-mating-display-is-globally-unique-the-sa-algal-bloom-could-kill-them-all-262108

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Edward C. Holmes, NHMRC Leadership Fellow and Professor of Virology, University of Sydney

In late June, the Scientific Advisory Group for the Origins of Novel Pathogens (SAGO), a group of independent experts convened by the World Health Organization (WHO), published an assessment of the origins of COVID.

The report concluded that although we don’t know conclusively where the virus that caused the pandemic came from:

a zoonotic origin with spillover from animals to humans is currently considered the best supported hypothesis.

SAGO did not find scientific evidence to support “a deliberate manipulation of the virus in a laboratory and subsequent biosafety breach”.

This follows a series of reports and research papers since the early days of the pandemic that have reached similar conclusions: COVID most likely emerged from an infected animal at the Huanan market in Wuhan, and was not the result of a lab leak.

But conspiracy theories about COVID’s origins persist. And this is hampering our ability to prevent the next pandemic.

Attacks on our research

As experts in the emergence of viruses, we published a peer-reviewed paper in Nature Medicine in 2020 on the origins of SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID.

Like SAGO, we evaluated several hypotheses for how a novel coronavirus could have emerged in Wuhan in late 2019. We concluded the virus very likely emerged through a natural spillover from animals – a “zoonosis” – caused by the unregulated wildlife trade in China.

Since then, our paper has become a focal point of conspiracy theories and political attacks.

The idea SARS-CoV-2 might have originated in a laboratory is not, in itself, a conspiracy theory. Like many scientists, we considered that possibility seriously. And we still do, although evidence hasn’t emerged to support it.

But the public discourse around the origin of the pandemic has increasingly been shaped by political agendas and conspiratorial narratives. Some of this has targeted our work and vilified experts who have studied this question in a data-driven manner.

A common conspiracy theory claims senior officials pressured us to promote the “preferred” hypothesis of a natural origin, while silencing the possibility of a lab leak. Some conspiracy theories even propose we were rewarded with grant funding in exchange.

These narratives are false. They ignore, dismiss or misrepresent the extensive body of evidence on the origin of the pandemic. Instead, they rely on selective quoting from private discussions and a distorted portrayal of the scientific process and the motivations of scientists.

So what does the evidence tell us?

In the five years since our Nature Medicine paper, a substantial body of new evidence has emerged that has deepened our understanding of how SARS-CoV-2 most likely emerged through a natural spillover.

In early 2020, the case for a zoonotic origin was already compelling. Much-discussed features of the virus are found in related coronaviruses and carry signatures of natural evolution. The genome of SARS-CoV-2 showed no signs of laboratory manipulation.

The multi-billion-dollar wildlife trade and fur farming industry in China regularly moves high-risk animals, frequently infected with viruses, into dense urban centres.

It’s believed that SARS-CoV-1, the virus responsible for the SARS outbreak, emerged this way in 2002 in China’s Guangdong province.

Similarly, detailed analyses of epidemiological data show the earliest known COVID cases clustered around the Huanan live-animal market in Wuhan, in the Hubei province, in December 2019.

Multiple independent data sources, including early hospitalisations, excess pneumonia deaths, antibody studies and infections among health-care workers indicate COVID first spread in the district where the market is located.

In a 2022 study we and other experts showed that environmental samples positive for SARS-CoV-2 clustered in the section of the market where wildlife was sold.

In a 2024 follow-up study we demonstrated those same samples contained genetic material from susceptible animals – including raccoon dogs and civets – on cages, carts, and other surfaces used to hold and transport them.

This doesn’t prove infected animals were the source. But it’s precisely what we would expect if the market was where the virus first spilled over. And it’s contrary to what would be expected from a lab leak.

These and all other independent lines of evidence point to the Huanan market as the early epicentre of the COVID pandemic.

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Read more:
The COVID lab leak theory is dead. Here’s how we know the virus came from a Wuhan market

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Hindering preparedness for the next pandemic

Speculation and conspiracy theories around the origin of COVID have undermined trust in science. The false balance between lab leak and zoonotic origin theories assigned by some commentators has added fuel to the conspiracy fire.

This anti-science agenda, stemming in part from COVID origin conspiracy theories, is being used to help justify deep cuts to funding for biomedical research, public health and global aid. These areas are essential for pandemic preparedness.

In the United States this has meant major cuts to the US Centers for Disease Control and the National Institutes of Health, the closure of the US Agency for International Development, and withdrawal from the WHO.

Undermining trust in science and public health institutions also hinders the development and uptake of life-saving vaccines and other medical interventions. This leaves us more vulnerable to future pandemics.

The amplification of conspiracy theories about the origin of COVID has promoted a dangerously flawed understanding of pandemic risk. The idea that a researcher discovered or engineered a pandemic virus, accidentally infected themselves, and unknowingly sparked a global outbreak (in exactly the type of setting where natural spillovers are known to occur) defies logic. It also detracts from the significant risk posed by the wildlife trade.

In contrast, the evidence-based conclusion that the COVID pandemic most likely began with a virus jumping from animals to humans highlights the very real risk we increasingly face. This is how pandemics start, and it will happen again. But we’re dismantling our ability to stop it or prepare for it.

Edward C Holmes receives funding from the Australian Research Council and the National Health and Medical Research Council (Australia). He has received consultancy fees from Pfizer Australia and Moderna, and has previously held honorary appointments (for which he has received no renumeration and performed no duties) at the China CDC in Beijing and the Shanghai Public Health Clinical Center (Fudan University).

Andrew Rambaut receives funding from The Wellcome Trust and the Gates Foundation.

Kristian G. Andersen receives funding from the National Institutes of Health, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and the Gates Foundation. He is on the Scientific Advisory Board of Invivyd, Inc. and has consulted on topics related to the COVID-19 pandemic and other infectious diseases.

The views and opinions expressed in this publication are solely those of the author in their personal capacity and do not necessarily reflect the views, positions, or policies of Scripps Research, its leadership, faculty, staff, or its scientific collaborators or affiliates. Scripps Research does not endorse or take responsibility for any statements made in this piece.

Robert Garry has received funding from the National Institutes of Health, the Coalition for Epidemic Preparedness Innovation, the Wellcome Trust Foundation, Gilead Sciences, and the European and Developing Countries Clinical Trials Partnership Programme. He is a co-founder of Zalgen Labs, a biotechnology company developing countermeasures for emerging viruses.

– ref. How conspiracy theories about COVID’s origins are hampering our ability to prevent the next pandemic – https://theconversation.com/how-conspiracy-theories-about-covids-origins-are-hampering-our-ability-to-prevent-the-next-pandemic-261475

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Prudence Flowers, Senior Lecturer in US History, College of Humanities, Arts and Social Sciences, Flinders University

1965, a trending new song by TikTok sensation and country music rebel Jessie Murph, is prompting heated online conversation about the status of women in the United States.

A retro sound and kitschy 1960s look mark the song and its confusingly pornographic (and age-restricted) music video. 1965 is muddled in its posturing, at turns sarcastic yet simultaneously conveying a wistfulness about the “simpler nature” of heterosexual romance in the 1960s.

Amid the nods to Lana Del Rey and Amy Winehouse, perhaps the most striking aspect is Murph’s visual homage to Priscilla Presley, who began dating Elvis in 1959 when she was 14 years old.

1965’s chorus has attracted particular controversy. Murph croons, in a lilting doo-wop style, about her willingness to “give up a few rights” for a man’s love and affection.

In the US, where hard-won rights are currently under attack, 1965’s seeming fetishisation of submission and female powerlessness has angered many listeners. Murph has claimed the song is “satire” – but a look at the legal and social status of American women in 1965 highlights how misplaced this attempt at irony is.

Women and the law in the US

In 1963 and 1964, federal laws prohibited discrimination in relation to pay or civil rights. But the idea that women might participate fully and equally in society was largely seen as a joke.

Federal and state governments, along with the private sector, had to be compelled through feminist action to take these rights seriously.

Into the 1970s, sex discrimination in education and housing was legal. So was employment discrimination against pregnant women and women with young children.

Job advertisements were often sex segregated. Women only gained the right to have a credit card or mortgage in their own name in 1974.

Sex, intimacy, relationships

In the 1960s, reproductive rights and bodily autonomy were in their infancy.

In 1965, married couples gained the right to contraception. This right was extended to unmarried people in 1972.

Although a tiny number of states began repealing abortion laws in the late 1960s, death from illegal and unsafe abortions were a common occurrence until the Supreme Court’s Roe v. Wade decision of 1973.

Between World War II and 1973, approximately 4 million pregnant unmarried mothers placed their children for adoption, many under duress, in a period now called the baby scoop era.

Into the 1970s, Black, Latina and Indigenous women were coercively sterilised, often through eugenics programs.

Divorce was only possible if one spouse could persuade a judge the other had committed cruelty, adultery or desertion. In 1969, California became the first state to legalise no-fault divorce.

Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, feminists demanded that police and the courts stop treating domestic violence as a private matter. Only in 1993 was marital rape considered a crime in all state sexual offence codes.

Even today, the overwhelming majority of perpetrators who commit rape or sexual assault will not face trial.

Race and sexuality

Although women’s suffrage was achieved in 1920, African Americans, Latinos and Native Americans were prevented from voting in many states by literacy tests, poll taxes and violence.

In 1965, after decades of civil rights struggle, federal legislation prohibited racial discrimination in voting, expanding to protect non-English speaking citizens in 1975.

Until 1973, homosexuality was considered a sociopathic personality disorder that might necessitate psychiatric institutionalisation.

In 2003, laws criminalising consensual same-sex activity were found unconstitutional. In 2015, same-sex marriage became legal nationwide.

There are still no federal laws that protect LGBTQI+ people against discrimination in education, housing, employment or public accommodations.

The personal is political

Faced with immediate backlash, Murph has claimed the song is obviously satirical, asking “r yall stupid”.

To Teen Vogue she insisted “On the record, I love having rights […] bodily rights specifically.”

But for satire to work, it requires shared sets of knowledge, values and assumptions. The ironic posturing in 1965 is too muddled – lyrically and sonically – to be effective. Instead, for many it looks and sounds like just another celebration of restrictive gender politics.

Online, many have compared Murph to a “tradwife”, the increasingly popular genre of social media influencer who make content romanticising homemaking, large families and submission to husbands.

Tradwives are primarily white and offer a fantasy version of historical domesticity, often cosplaying a 1950s aesthetic. Some tradwives are overtly far right in their politics, others explicitly reject feminism and the “lie” of equality.

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Read more:
Far-right ‘tradwives’ see feminism as evil. Their lifestyles push back against ‘the lie of equality’

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This vision of family and gender is echoed in contemporary Christian Nationalist and MAGA discourse.

Project 2025, the 900-page conservative wish list for the Trump 2.0 administration, called for government to “replace ‘woke’ nonsense with a healthy vision” of family and sexuality, framed as heterosexual and patriarchal.

The culture wars waged by Donald Trump and Republicans directly target rights relating to gender and sexuality.

Since Roe v. Wade was overturned in 2022, 19 states now ban or restrict abortion.

Trans rights are under sustained and devastating attack.

Prominent conservative voices call for an end to no-fault divorce laws and same-sex marriage.
Federal Republicans have opposed efforts to codify the right to contraception and in vitro fertilisation (IVF).

The history of social movement activism is a history of struggle. Feminists, women of colour and LGBTQI+ movements fought against considerable resistance to establish rights that are now too often taken for granted.

In this moment of conservative backlash, it is vital that we interrogate any move that frames rights as accessories in a costume rather than foundational to equality.

Prudence Flowers 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. Women’s rights in the US are in real danger of going back to 1965 – so Jessie Murph’s new song is no laughing matter – https://theconversation.com/womens-rights-in-the-us-are-in-real-danger-of-going-back-to-1965-so-jessie-murphs-new-song-is-no-laughing-matter-261862

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Ming Gao, Research Fellow of East Asia Studies, Lund University

Japan’s embassy in Laos and its Ministry of Foreign Affairs has issued a rare and unusually direct advisory, warning Japanese men against “buying sex from children” in Laos.

The move was sparked by Ayako Iwatake, a restaurant owner in Vientiane, who allegedly saw social media posts of Japanese men bragging about child prostitution. In response, she launched a petition calling for government action.

The Japanese-language bulletin makes clear such conduct is prosecutable under both Laotian law and Japan’s child prostitution and pornography law, which applies extraterritorially.

This diplomatic statement was not only a legal warning. It was a rare public acknowledgement of Japanese men’s alleged entanglement in transnational child sex tourism, particularly in Southeast Asia.

It’s also a moment that demands we look beyond individual criminal acts or any one nation and consider the historical, racial and structural inequalities that make such mobility and exploitation possible.

A changing map of exploitation

Selling and buying sex in Asia is nothing new. The contours have shifted over time but the underlying sentiment has remained constant: some lives are cheap and commodified, and some wallets are deep and entitled.

Japan’s involvement in overseas prostitution stretches back to the Meiji period (1868-1912). Young women from impoverished rural regions (known as karayuki-san) migrated abroad, often to Southeast Asia, to work in the sex industry, from port towns in Malaya to brothels in China and the Pacific Islands.

If poverty once pushed Japanese women abroad to sell their bodies, by the second half of the 20th century – fuelled by Japan’s postwar economic boom – it was wealthy Japanese men who began travelling overseas to buy sex.

Around the 2000s, the dynamic flipped again. In South Korea, now a developed economy, men travelled to Southeast Asia – and later to countries such as Russia and Uzbekistan – following routes once taken by Japanese men.

Later in the same period, the flow took an even darker turn.

Japanese and South Korean men began to emerge as major buyers of child sex abroad, particularly across Southeast Asia, the Pacific Islands and even Mongolia.

According to the United States Department of State, Japanese men continued to be “a significant source of demand for sex tourism”, while South Korean men remained “a source of demand for child sex tourism”.

The UN Office on Drugs and Crime and other organisations have also flagged both countries as key contributors to child sexual exploitation in the region.

From exporter to destination: Japan’s new role in the sex trade

A more recent and troubling shift appears to be unfolding within Japan.

Amid ongoing economic stagnation and the depreciation of the yen, Tokyo has reportedly become a destination for inbound sex tourism. Youth protection organisations have observed a notable rise in foreign male clients, particularly Chinese, frequenting areas where teenage girls and young women engage in survival sex.

What ties these movements together is not just culturally specific beliefs, such as the fetishisation of virginity or the superstition that sex with young girls brings good luck in business, but power.

The battle to protect children

The global campaign to end child sex tourism began in earnest with the founding of ECPAT (a global network of organisations that seeks to end the sexual exploitation of children) in 1990 to confront the rising exploitation of children in Southeast Asia.

Despite legal frameworks and international scrutiny, the abuse of children remains disturbingly common.

Several factors converge here: endemic poverty, weak law enforcement and a constant influx of wealthier foreign men. Add to that the digital age of information and communication technologies, where child sex can be advertised, arranged and commodified through encrypted platforms and invitation-only forums, and the crisis deepens.

While local governments often pledge reform, implementation is inconsistent.

Buyers, especially foreign buyers, often manage to evade consequences. However, in early 2025, Japan’s National Police Agency arrested 111 people – including high school teachers and tutors – in a nationwide crackdown on online child sexual exploitation, conducted in coordination with international partners.

Why this moment matters

The shock surrounding the Laos revelations and the unusually direct response from Japanese authorities offers a rare opportunity to confront the deeper systems at work.

Sex tourism doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It’s enabled by uneven development, transnational mobility, weak regulation and social silence. But this moment also shows grassroots activism can force institutional action.

Japan’s official warning wasn’t triggered by a government audit or diplomatic scandal. It came because Ayako Iwatake saw social media posts of Japanese men boasting about buying sex from children and refused to look away.

When she delivered the petition to the embassy, it responded quickly. Less than ten days later, the Foreign Ministry issued a public warning, clearly outlining the legal consequences of child sex crimes committed abroad.

Iwatake’s action is a reminder: it doesn’t take a government to expose a system. It takes someone willing to speak out – even when it’s uncomfortable. As she told Japanese newspaper Mainichi Shimbun:

It was just too blatant. I couldn’t look the other way.

It’s commendable that Japan acted swiftly. But a warning alone isn’t enough. Japan should strengthen and expand its international cooperation to combat these heinous crimes.

A more decisive model can be seen in a recent case in Vietnam, where US authorities infiltrated a livestream child sex abuse network for the first time in that country. Working undercover for months, they coordinated with Vietnamese officials to arrest a mother who had been sexually abusing her daughter on demand for paying viewers abroad.

The rescue of the nine-year-old victim showed what serious cross-border intervention looks like.

But for every headline-grabbing scandal, there are hundreds of untold stories.

The Laos case should be the beginning of a broader reckoning with how sex, money and power move across borders – and who pays the price.

Ming Gao receives funding from the Swedish Research Council. This research was produced with support from the Swedish Research Council grant “Moved Apart” (nr. 2022-01864). Ming Gao is a member of Lund University Profile Area: Human Rights.

– ref. A rare, direct warning from Japan signals a shift in the fight against child sex tourism in Asia – https://theconversation.com/a-rare-direct-warning-from-japan-signals-a-shift-in-the-fight-against-child-sex-tourism-in-asia-261554