Is mineral water ‘natural’ if it’s filtered? The debate gripping France today has raged since the 18th-century

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Daniel Gettings, Sessional Tutor, Department of History, University of Warwick

A year ago, French newspaper Le Monde and Radio France broke a scandal in big water – Perrier was filtering its product. The filtering began due to worries about water contamination linked to climate change and pollution of spring sources.

It was also revealed that executives at parent company Nestle and French government ministers tried to keep it all quiet. They allegedly covered up reports of contamination and changed the rules to allow micro-filtration.

Under EU law, for a brand to market their products as “natural mineral water” it has to remain unaltered. French mineral water companies are now awaiting a ruling on what level of filtration is considered illegal “treatment”. The result could mean that, after 160 years, Perrier will no longer be able to be call its product “natural mineral water”.

Strikingly, the same issue was debated extensively by scientists during the 18th-century European spring water boom. These men considered the effects of human intervention on the product and what was lost in the process.

A spa boom

In the 17th and 18th centuries, medical interest, in addition to factors like travel for leisure, resulted in the proliferation of new spa towns across Europe.

In England, Buxton and Tunbridge Wells developed in the 1620s and 1660s respectively, while Harrogate, Cheltenham and Leamington came in the 1710s, 1750s and 1790s. Historical survey’s place the number of spas and wells offering healing mineral waters at around 350 in the 18th-century heyday.

Spas like Bath, Buxton and the Bristol Hotwell were thermal, offering hot bathing. However, other spa sources in England were not heated. This meant that those who wished to bathe had to do so in the cold, which was both undesirable, and at that time, considered dangerous. This was due to fears that the English cold climate, when combined with bodily exposure to cold water, could disrupt bodily rhythms an cause illness.

People bathing at bath spa
Public Bathing at Bath, or Stewing Alive, by Isaac Cruikshank, 1825.
Wikimedia

As a result, many of the cold spas focused on offering health benefits through drinking their waters. When hailing the qualities of the newly discovered waters at Scarborough in 1660, Yorkshire doctor Robert Wittie declared they had “gained such credit” that people: “Come above an hundred miles to drink of it, preferring it to all other medicinal waters they had formerly frequented.”

He later described the health benefits he gained from drinking them:

I had lost two pound and a half of my weight… I found after it better agility of body, and alacrity of spirit then before.

In 1654, the doctor Edmund Deane had similarly described the effects of the waters of Knaresborough: “Those waters at the Spaw doe presently heal, and (as it were) miraculously cure diseases, which are without all hope of recovery.”

Testing the waters

As the number of spas grew, so did the options for consumers. As a result, the 18th century saw increasing attention and experimentation on mineral waters by scientists. Rather than questioning the health benefits, they instead compared waters to one another, experimenting on them to determine processes that produced and changed healing properties.

For example, British doctor George Turner, who translated and expanded upon a German work about the spa of Bad Pyrmont, in 1733. His work discussed experiments on the waters of the spa and the minerals that could be determined within. It noted that if left standing, the carbonated water lost its potency: “Whence it is, that so spiritous a liquid does so easily turn to a flat insipid water.”

He also suggested that boiling caused mineral waters to lose some invisible element important to its proper function. “Why so many globules of air arise out of mineral waters when it is warmed?” he asked, only to conclude that when “spirits fly out of any liquid” they go “incognito without any tumult”. As they “flew”, so too did whatever gave these waters healing properties, making chemical recreation in a lab impossible.

An early mineral water bottle.
An example of glass bottle that would have held English mineral water between 1801 to 1900.
The Board of Trustees of the Science Museum, CC BY-NC-ND

Historians of science have suggested that works like this foregrounded the concept of “gas”, which came more conclusively later in the century.

During experiments on the Scarborough waters, doctor Peter Shaw and natural scientist Stephen Hales each sought to determine the nature of the “subtle sulphurous spirit” in which they felt the “principal virtue of the Chalybeate (flavoured with iron) Waters resided”.

Similar experiments also involved extensive filtering, with physician John Nott in 1793 adding solutions to the waters of Italy’s Pisa and France’s Verdun before filtering them and performing further tests on “what remains in the filter”.

Scottish physician, Thomas Short, had concluded previously that filtering waters was both an important natural process. He described “the several strange alterations that water undergoes, by being strained through different strata of minerals”. But also that the body inherently filtered “raw” mineral waters through its skin when bathing, allowing only those smaller minerals in to provide the health effect, he claimed.

These scientists used their burgeoning chemical understanding to conclude that processes performed on waters fundamentally changed them, going from “spiritous” cures to “flat insipid water”. Even lacking the full knowledge or vocabulary to express why, they felt their processes and tools were incapable of recreating the waters of nature.

Legacies of these ideas can be seen in our changing attitudes to food and drink. Modern branding and consumer value is placed on a lack of processing. We are increasingly concerned with capturing and consuming the natural as it is, before human intervention has muddied it.

In so doing, we continue the ideas of those concerned with mineral waters all that time ago. By filtering their waters, no matter how little Perrier claim it affected them, we feel as though some spirit of the natural has perhaps been lost.


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The Conversation

Daniel Gettings 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. Is mineral water ‘natural’ if it’s filtered? The debate gripping France today has raged since the 18th-century – https://theconversation.com/is-mineral-water-natural-if-its-filtered-the-debate-gripping-france-today-has-raged-since-the-18th-century-263149

Young Europeans are losing faith in democracy – here’s how to earn it back

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Patricia Justino, Professor and Deputy Director, World Institute for Development Economics Research (UNU-WIDER), United Nations University

A recent Europe-wide survey has revealed an alarming picture: fewer than six in ten young Europeans believe that democracy is the best form of government. One in five say they would support authoritarian rule under certain circumstances. And only 6% believe their political system functions well.

This suggests something more than disillusionment: the foundational trust democracy relies on is eroding. Why are young people losing faith in democracy? And what will it take to restore it?

Trust in democracy begins with trust in its institutions: governments, courts and public services. When these institutions are seen as unresponsive, unaccountable or unfair, confidence in democracy falters.

The UN World Social Report 2025, which I co-authored, shows that institutional trust is declining globally. This shift is most pronounced among the young: according to latest available barometer data, over a quarter of those born in the 1990s report having no trust at all in their governments. This figure is around 17% for those over 65 years old. This is not a temporary dip. This is a generational shift in how citizens relate to power.

For many years, Europe seemed to defy this trend compared to other regions. Younger generations were more trusting of institutions than their elders. But that pattern has reversed. Today, they are more sceptical, more disillusioned – and more open to alternatives.

Why democracy feels broken

At the heart of this crisis lies inequality, insecurity and eroding trust.

First, persistent inequality widens social distances between social groups, fueling resentment and a belief that the system is rigged. While income inequality in Europe has not risen as sharply as elsewhere, this masks growing generational gaps. According to the IMF, incomes for working-age Europeans have stagnated since the 2007-08 financial crisis. Young people now have the lowest median incomes of any age group, even as pensioners’ incomes have grown.

Economic insecurity compounds the sense that wealth and opportunity are unequally distributed. Many young Europeans feel stuck, unable to afford housing, build stable careers or plan their futures. In the Young Europe 2025 survey, more than one-third say that ensuring affordable living costs should be a top political priority. Yet, the institutions meant to provide security and opportunity are often seen as ineffective and out of touch.

My research confirms that perceived inequality and insecurity are among the strongest predictors of distrust. When institutions fail to protect people from risk or deliver on promises, the social contract that underpins democracy unravels.

The generational bargain of progress is breaking down. Many young Europeans no longer believe democracy guarantees upward mobility or protects their dignity. This disillusionment has been compounded by the crises that have defined their coming of age: from the migrant crisis, the pandemic and climate anxiety to the war in Ukraine, these shocks have shaken faith in institutions’ ability to respond to uncertainty.

How to rebuild trust in democracy

Trust will not be restored by rhetoric alone. Democracy must prove it can deliver tangible results.

This means meeting the basic expectations of younger generations: affordable housing, decent work, a habitable planet and meaningful participation in political processes.

One of the most effective ways to rebuild trust is through universal, inclusive social protection. Where public services are seen as fair, accessible and reliable, trust in institutions tends to be stronger. Social protection is not just a safety net. It is a visible signal that the state works for everyone, not just the privileged few. Governments serious about restoring legitimacy should start here.

But protection must also be inclusive across generations. Across Europe, pension spending remains high while the programmes young people rely on – unemployment insurance, housing support, childcare – are often underfunded across European countries.

A young man looks dejectedly at a bill
Young people’s wages have stagnated, and many are struggling to afford housing or make ends meet.
fizkes/Shutterstock

Europe’s rapidly-aging population means younger generations will be outnumbered at the ballot box for the foreseeable future. Policies must consciously account for this disparity and ensure that the needs of young people are not sidelined.

Young Europeans are not rejecting democracy because they prefer authoritarianism. They are rejecting a version that feels unaccountable, unresponsive and unfair.

We have seen what happens when democratic decay goes unchecked: divisions deepen, civic space shrinks and authoritarianism takes root. Trust can be rebuilt. But it requires political courage, inclusive institutions and social protection systems that reflect young people’s realities. Democracy cannot run on nostalgia. It must prove that it works for everyone. Young people are asking to be taken seriously, to be heard, respected and given a stake in the future. We would do well to listen.

The Conversation

Patricia Justino 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. Young Europeans are losing faith in democracy – here’s how to earn it back – https://theconversation.com/young-europeans-are-losing-faith-in-democracy-heres-how-to-earn-it-back-261193

Some people just don’t like music – it may be down to their brain wiring

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Catherine Loveday, Professor, Neuropsychology, University of Westminster

Krakenimages.com/Shutterstock

When I ask a lecture theatre full of students how they would feel if they could never listen to a piece of music again, most are horrified. Many have been plugged into their headphones until the moment the class begins. But without fail, one or two will shyly admit that their lives would not change at all if music didn’t exist.

Psychologists call this “music anhedonia”, meaning an absence of pleasure for music. And a new paper from neuroscientists in Spain and Canada suggests it is caused by a problem with communication between different parts of the brain.

For many of us, apathy towards music seems unfathomable. Yet, for 5%-10% of the population, this is their norm.

I see it often in my own research and practice in people with memory loss, where I ask people to select favourite songs as a way of accessing significant memories.

It has always fascinated me that some people look at me blankly and say, “I’ve never been that bothered by music”. It is such a contrast to the majority who love to talk about their first record, or the tune played at their wedding.

Recent evidence shows considerable variation in the depth of people’s emotional response to music. Around 25% of the population are hyperhedonic, which is an almost obsessive urge to engage intensely and frequently with music.

Research in this field typically uses the Barcelona Music Reward Questionnaire (BMRQ), which asks people about the significance of music in daily life: how often they listen to records, whether they hum along, and if there are songs that give them a shiver down the spine.

Low scorers are classified as having music anhedonia and many researchers further verify this in the lab by measuring heart rate, sweat response and breathing while music is playing. For most of us, these physiological markers change dramatically during emotional songs. But in those with music anhedonia, there are often no physiological effects at all.

One theory is that reduced enjoyment for music may reflect a more generalised anhedonia, an absence of pleasure for anything. Often, this is linked to disruption to the reward pathways in the brain, in areas such as the nucleus accumbens, orbitofrontal cortex and insula.

It is a common feature of depression, which, along with other mood disorders, can correlate with a lack of response to music . However, this does not explain specific music anhedonia, where people happily enjoy other rewards such as food, socialising and films, but remain indifferent to music.

Man scowling at violin
Not every child made to take music lessons grows up to thank their parents.
foto-lite/Shuttersock

An alternative possibility is that people with reduced interest in music simply don’t understand it, perhaps due to difficulties with processing melody and harmony. To test this, we can look at people with amusia – a deficit in music perception, which affects the ability to identify familiar tunes or detect wrong notes. This occurs when there is reduced activity in key regions in the frontotemporal cortex in the brain, which handles complex processing of pitch and melody. However, some people with the condition have an extreme and obsessional love of music.

In any case, other research shows that those with music anhedonia often have normal musical perception, with no problem recognising songs or distinguishing major from minor chords.

So, what is going on? The new paper provides a detailed analysis of all the research in this field to date. The researchers explain that while the brain networks underlying music perception and reward are both intact in people with music anhedonia, the communication between them is severely disrupted. There is little to no traffic between the auditory processing parts of the brain and the reward centre.

People with typical responses to music have significant activity in this pathway, which is higher for pleasant music than for neutral sounds. A 2018 study showed that you can increase music-induced pleasure by artificially stimulating these communication tracts using magnetic pulses.

The new analysis may give scientists insights into clinical conditions where everyday rewards seem to be reduced or enhanced, for example eating disorders, sex addictions and gambling problems.

These findings also challenge the common assumption that everyone loves music. Most people do, but not all, and the variation comes down to differences in the wiring of the brain. Sometimes it follows brain injury, but more often people are born this way, and a March 2025 study found evidence of a genetic link.

Music is everywhere – in shops, gyms, restaurants, healthcare settings – and it can be incredibly powerful. But perhaps we should resist the urge to see it as a panacea and respect the fact that for some, silence is golden.

The Conversation

Catherine Loveday 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. Some people just don’t like music – it may be down to their brain wiring – https://theconversation.com/some-people-just-dont-like-music-it-may-be-down-to-their-brain-wiring-263066

The ‘third nuclear age’ is a politically motivated label that seeks to justify a renewed arms race

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Tom Vaughan, Lecturer in International Security, University of Leeds

US nuclear weapons testing in Nevada, 1953. National Nuclear Security Administration

In August 1945 the United States dropped atomic bombs on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, killing more than 200,000 people, overwhelmingly civilians. Eighty years on from this slaughter – which the then US army commander and later president Dwight D. Eisenhower called “completely unnecessary” – is an apt time to ask how the world has changed since Japan’s skies lit up with atomic fire.

Many in the military as well as academics and nuclear theorists argue that a “third nuclear age” has begun. By this they mean that a new and different set of nuclear threats are emerging which fundamentally challenge the existing tenets of nuclear “deterrence”. The response, some argue, is to invest heavily in our nuclear weapons systems to secure ourselves against this new age of uncertainty.

To understand this claim, it’s worth looking back at the history of the nuclear era. Most (but not all) scholars working on “nuclear ages” accept that the first nuclear age, between 1945 and 1991, was characterised by the cold war nuclear stand-off between the world’s two nuclear armed superpowers: the US and the Soviet Union.

The second nuclear age, from 1991 to 2014, is usually understood to have started when the cold war ended. Policymakers worried about “proliferation” – the spread of nuclear weapons to new states and even non-state terrorist groups. Western policy focused on countering this process, often through military means.

The third nuclear age, which is thought to have begun in 2014, it thought to reflect a new set of challenges. This will involve the entry of more nuclear-armed states into the fray, erosion of longstanding non-proliferation and arms control agreements and the development of so-called “strategic non-nuclear weapons”. This term refers to non-nuclear technologies, including artificial intelligence (AI) command and control networks, hypersonic missiles and advanced missile defence systems.

There are fears that non-nuclear armed “adversaries” might use these systems to directly attack other states’ nuclear arsenals, undermining their ability to deliver a retaliatory nuclear strike. This is likely to pose a challenge to established practices on which the doctrine of nuclear deterrence is based.

But how much has really changed in the past decade? No new nuclear powers have emerged – the most recent was North Korea in 2006. China, often seen as the bogeyman of the third nuclear age, has had a nuclear weapons capability since 1964. AI integration into nuclear command and control systems, while extremely risky, has yet to happen.

Reliable missile defence against modern nuclear warheads is still widely considered to be technologically impossible. The impact of hypersonic missiles on the calculus of nuclear deterrence is debated, since intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs) are already very fast.

In short, what’s different this time around?

Western-centric thinking

A more penetrating line of questioning is to ask about the politics underlying the idea of a third nuclear age. Ideas are never neutral, and they shape our understanding of the world. The third nuclear age concept (like that of the second nuclear age before it) came out of the US defence establishment, which was trying to understand how it could remain globally dominant against challenges to its supremacy from China.

The idea has since been filtered through academia and back into the policy world, where it has started to gaincommon sense status”: as night follows day, the dawn of the third nuclear age is around the corner. But this is neither objective nor inevitable. It’s a conceptual tool for thinking about nuclear politics in a particular way.

It’s a US-centric perspective reflecting a fear that western dominance of the nuclear arena is under threat. US and allied militaries need to progressively integrate new technologies into their nuclear systems and modernise their arsenals to deal with a “more uncertain” world, ignoring the fact that massive risk and uncertainty have always been a built-in feature of nuclear deterrence strategies.

Here, the biggest threats to nuclear stability come not from the thousands of nuclear warheads held by the established nuclear weapons states, but from would-be disruptors who can threaten nuclear arsenals with non-nuclear systems – echoing old second nuclear age fears about proliferation.

This is why Iran remains a villain of the story alongside China, as we can see from the hyperbole about Iran’s “hypersonic” missile capabilities and how its behaviour gave Israel and the US the excuse to launch “counter-proliferation” strikes against its nuclear facilities in June this year.

Graphic showing nuclear stockpiles 2025.
Nuclear stockpiles, 2025.
Federation of American Scientists, CC BY-NC

It bears repeating that Iran is still not a nuclear-armed state. But the new emphasis placed on non-nuclear technologies in third nuclear age thinking also puts states which don’t even have nuclear programmes in the crosshairs of Iraq-style wars of aggression in the name of “counter-proliferation”.

New arms race

To be crystal clear: the nuclear world is as dangerous as ever. The problem is that third nuclear age thinking, with its focus on supposedly unprecedented disruptions, leads us to think that new solutions are necessary. “Old” ideas about nuclear disarmament become irrelevant, because the instabilities introduced by new technologies supposedly make it impossible for nuclear weapons states to give up their arsenals.

The third nuclear age becomes a conceptual stalking horse for a fresh nuclear arms race.

When the British armed forces chief Admiral Sir Tony Radakin warned of a dawning third nuclear age in December 2024, he was not making a neutral observation. He was arguing for resources to be funnelled into nuclear modernisation at the expense of welfare and healthcare programmes. Today, before any modernisation, Britain maintains a first-strike deliverable total of 31 megatons of nuclear explosive power. That’s more than 2,000 Hiroshimas’ worth of destruction.

So we should be sceptical of this concept. The threat of nuclear annihilation has been with us since August 1945 and comes – as always – from nuclear weapons and the states who operate them.

The Conversation

Tom Vaughan 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 ‘third nuclear age’ is a politically motivated label that seeks to justify a renewed arms race – https://theconversation.com/the-third-nuclear-age-is-a-politically-motivated-label-that-seeks-to-justify-a-renewed-arms-race-263009

Three reasons plastic pollution treaty talks ended in disagreement and deadlock (but not collapse)

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Steve Fletcher, Professor of Ocean Policy and Economy, University of Portsmouth

New Africa/Shutterstock

The latest round of negotiations for a UN global plastics treaty has ended without a deal. After more than three years of talks, deep divisions remain. Agreement is only marginally closer than before talks began. For many countries, campaigners and observer organisations, the outcome is deeply disappointing.

After the final intense meetings which went through the night in Geneva, the chair of the intergovernmental negotiating committee that governs the treaty discussions formally closed the session on August 15 without agreement on the treaty text. This is not the end. The process has not collapsed.

However, there is no confirmed date or venue for the next round of negotiations and no mandate for formal intersessional activities. Many delegates called for a period of reflection and even a reset of the process to allow for a refreshed approach.

As in previous negotiation rounds, progress was slow. Talks were hampered by procedural ambiguity, deliberate delay tactics from fossil fuel and petrochemical countries opposing an ambitious treaty, and the sheer complexity of the issues on the table. Time ran out before a consensus could be reached.

As the talks wrap up, we reflect on three aspects that contributed to this ongoing deadlock:

1. Chair’s efforts fell short

Ambassador Luis Vayas Valdivieso took a more active role than in earlier sessions, pushing the pace and producing two draft treaty texts to focus debate. The first draft omitted key provisions, including limits on plastic production, global rules for regulating plastic products, controls on harmful chemicals and strong financing arrangements.

Many high-ambition countries pushing for strong measures and outcomes, rejected the first draft as imbalanced, unambitious and unfit for further discussion. A second draft, issued just before 1am on the final night after intense consultations, included some improvements but still left out these core elements. Many nations again saw it as one-sided, tilted towards the demands of lower-ambition countries and petrostates.

2. Entrenched positions remain

Throughout the negotiations, lower-ambition states gave little ground. They refused to compromise on their “red lines” while expecting others to give up on theirs.

This repeated familiar arguments over the purpose and scope of the treaty, despite these having been outlined in the UN mandate to deliver the treaty three years ago. Many believe a different approach is needed that focuses more time on points of disagreement, rigorously tests opposing arguments, and actively seeks areas of compromise.

microplastics in sand, with metal spoon
Plastic pollution is ubiquitous.
chayanuphol/Shutterstock

3. Reluctance to vote

The process still relies on consensus for decision-making. In the final plenary, many delegates, particularly those with economic interests in plastics, stressed that consensus is essential. Yet over the past three years, some delegations have urged the chair to break deadlocks by moving to a vote – a rule of UN negotiations that must be applied when consensus cannot be reached.

Voting is seen as politically explosive, with serious implications for multilateralism. So far, the chair has resisted calling a vote, and higher-ambition countries have not pressed for it either, despite their repeated statements about urgency and ambition. Beyond rejecting treaty texts they considered weak, many did not use the tools available to them to push for a stronger outcome. As a result, stalemates have persisted.

The road ahead

The intersessional period – the time between now and the next formal meeting – is critical. Without a fixed date for the next stage of the process, this is the time to reset and prepare for decisive progress. One key focus must be to bridge political divides. High-ambition countries need to build broader alliances and find shared ground with those who may not fully back their vision but are open to stronger action.

Key details such as financing mechanisms, monitoring and reporting systems, and legal models for compliance should be developed now, outside formal negotiations, to save time later. And higher-ambition nations such as those in the EU, Panama, Colombia, Australia, the UK and small island states should coordinate more closely and be willing to use procedural tools such as voting when needed, even if politically uncomfortable.

The goal set by the UN in 2022 to end plastic pollution across its full life cycle is still achievable. But it will require governments to use the coming months to regroup, have frank political discussions and commit to a more decisive approach when they next meet.

The world cannot afford another round lost to procedural deadlock. The plastics crisis is worsening. The science is clear. The solutions are well known. What is missing is not knowledge, but the will to match words with binding action.


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The Conversation

Steve Fletcher receives funding from the World Economic Forum, Natural Environment Research Council (NERC), Economic and Social Research Council (ESRC), Aquapak Ltd, Defra, and the Flotilla Foundation. He is a member of the United Nations International Resource Panel and is the NERC Agenda Setting Fellow for Plastic Pollution.

Antaya March receives funding from the Flotilla Foundation, Defra, World Economic Forum, and the British Academy.

ref. Three reasons plastic pollution treaty talks ended in disagreement and deadlock (but not collapse) – https://theconversation.com/three-reasons-plastic-pollution-treaty-talks-ended-in-disagreement-and-deadlock-but-not-collapse-261327

Who was Jane Austen’s best leading man? These experts think they know

Source: The Conversation – UK – By James Vigus, Senior Lecturer in English, Queen Mary University of London

To mark the 250th anniversary of her birth, we’re pitting Jane Austen’s much-loved novels against each other in a battle of wit, charm and romance. Seven leading Austen experts have made their case for her ultimate leading man, but the winner is down to you. Cast your vote in the poll at the end of the article, and let us know the reason for your choice in the comments. This is Jane Austen Fight Club – it’s breeches at dawn.

Edward Ferrars, Sense and Sensibility

Championed by James Vigus, senior lecturer in English, Queen Mary University of London

Edward Ferrars, supposedly “idle and depressed”, gets a bad press. Even Elinor, who loves him, struggles to decipher his reserve. The explanation – his secret engagement to scheming Lucy Steele – seems discreditable. Yet among Sense and Sensibility’s showy, inadequate men, reticent Edward (alongside Colonel Brandon) is a hero.

Unlike Willoughby, who jilts Marianne to marry for money, Edward dutifully sticks with Lucy, wanting her to avoid penury. Significantly, Elinor approves. Edward has an “open affectionate heart”, this inwardness contrasting Willoughby’s more superficial “open affectionate manners”. And his “saucy” teasing of Marianne’s fashionable love of picturesque landscapes elicits her first-name-terms affection for him.

Edward, though, is serious – a Christian stoic like Elinor. Resistant to family pressure, he “always preferred” the church, an understated vocation. No orator, Edward speaks plainly: “I am grown neither humble nor penitent by what has passed. – I am grown very happy.” This happiness, the moral luck of gaining Elinor and a clergyman’s living, is credible because it’s deserved.

Henry Tilney, Northanger Abbey

Championed by Sarah Annes Brown, professor of English literature, Anglia Ruskin University

There are many reasons why I love Jane Austen, but the charm of her leading men isn’t high on the list. In Austen’s novels, a witty and charming male should be approached with extreme caution. He is likely to prove an unsuitable suitor who must be rejected in favour of someone worthier – and duller.

But Northanger Abbey’s Henry Tilney is the exception. This is particularly true of the earlier part of the novel. There, he teases Catherine by imagining how she’ll describe her first meeting with him at the Lower Rooms in Bath in her diary.

He then goes on to gossip about ladies’ fashions with chaperone Mrs Allen. She asks for his opinion on Catherine’s own gown: “It is very pretty, madam,” said he, gravely examining it; “but I do not think it will wash well; I am afraid it will fray.”

It is very difficult to imagine Mr Darcy concerning himself with such trifles.
Admittedly Henry becomes a bit more finger-wagging in the second half of the novel – but then, he has been saddled with Austen’s silliest heroine.


This article is part of a series commemorating the 250th anniversary of Jane Austen’s birth. Despite having published only six books, she is one of the best-known authors in history. These articles explore the legacy and life of this incredible writer.


Colonel Brandon, Sense and Sensibility

Championed by Michael Meeuwis, associate professor of literature, University of Warwick

Austen wrote Colonel Brandon’s background to reflect the violence and seductions of the 18th-century novel. He nearly elopes with his brother’s wife Eliza, then he rescues Eliza and her daughter (also named Eliza) after seduction by someone else. Finally, he fights a duel with Willoughby over Eliza junior.

Here, Austen suggests that women in the 18th-century novel were generally so interchangeable they didn’t even need separate names. Sense and Sensibility’s heroine, Elinor, is magnificently unimpressed by his story. She “sighed over the fancied necessity of this; but to a man and a soldier she presumed not to censure it.”

Such wry commentary is only possible in a novel where quieter life prevails – and Brandon becomes a romantic hero of that world too. In marrying him, Marianne gains access to his library, where she may read – and perhaps even write – the kinds of books where women have names.

Edmund Bertram, Mansfield Park

Championed by Jane E. Wright, senior lecturer in English literature, University of Bristol

Edmund Bertram, the older cousin of Austen’s heroine, Fanny Price, in Mansfield Park, isn’t as dashing, wildly rich, or immediately appealing as some of Austen’s other leading men. A second son with a compromised inheritance, he is a matter-of-fact character training to be clergyman. He also exhibits misjudgment in falling in love (or infatuation) with the unsuitable Mary Crawford.

However, in addition to his seriousness about the church and responsibility in managing his father’s estate, he is the only one of Austen’s leading men who – against his family’s unkindness – is not only consistently caring towards the leading lady, but both notices her intelligence and takes trouble to support it.

In the fluctuations of the novel’s plot, he and Fanny offer care, caution, and comfort to each other, so that, in some respects, they might be said to come to their eventual marriage on slightly more equal terms.

Fitzwilliam Darcy, Pride and Prejudice

Championed by Penny Bradshaw, associate professor of English literature, University of Cumbria

On one level, Mr Darcy needs no championing. Cultural evidence (from branded tea-towels and other merchandise, to multiple portrayals on screen) suggests that he remains the most popular of Austen’s heroes.

His “fine, tall person” and “handsome features” are clearly important factors here, but his chilly reserve and initial dismissal of Elizabeth Bennet as merely “tolerable” do not immediately endear him to the reader.

The source of Darcy’s very great appeal lies partly in the fact that he begins to love her in spite of his own prejudices and because, while Darcy does undoubtedly admire Lizzie’s appearance (including her “fine eyes”), his admiration extends to qualities which, at this point in time, were hardly typical of the fictional heroines of romance.

Lizzie bears little resemblance to the usually rather passive and often victimised heroines encountered in countless popular novels of the late-18th and early-19th century. Crucially, Darcy is drawn to the “liveliness” of Lizzie’s mind and as a hero he therefore validates a new kind of heroine: a woman whose wit and intelligence is as much a part of her attraction as physical appearance.

Captain Wentworth, Persuasion

Championed by Emrys D. Jones, senior lecturer in 18th-century literature and culture, King’s College London

Frederick Wentworth isn’t meant to be admired from a distance like certain other Austen love interests. At various points in Persuasion, his thoughts are relayed to us through the free indirect discourse that more usually channels the inner lives of Austen’s heroines. And then, in the extraordinary penultimate chapter of the novel, we get his longing and his frustration straight from the source, in probably the most beautiful love letter in the history of literary fiction.

“Tell me not that I am too late,” he implores Anne Elliot. Notwithstanding his illustrious naval career, Wentworth is more vulnerable in that moment than any of the leading men before him. He writes of his soul being pierced, of his feelings overpowering him, using language that would, anywhere else in Austen, be mocked as excessive or indulgent. Wentworth carries it off, and in doing so proves that he’s a different kind of hero.

George Knightley, Emma

Championed by Christine Hawkins, teaching associate in school of the arts, Queen Mary University of London

George Knightley is underappreciated. “A sensible man about seven or eight and thirty” of a “cheerful manner” he is often undemonstrative, unshowy and cool. Not the classic dreamboat. But Knightley shows his worth through his honesty, trustworthiness and reliability.

Unlike the ostentatious Darcy, Knightley doesn’t offend and alienate everyone he meets. He is thoughtful and kind to others, championing the derided farmer Mr Martin, covering Harriet’s social embarrassment, and soothing the wounded feelings of Miss Bates. Knightley shows his sense of social responsibility. He is intelligent, practical and grounded.

Knightley is also Emma’s devoted lover: “I have not a fault to find with her … I love to look at her”. He sees her best qualities. But crucially, he questions her behaviour when he must (“I will tell you truths”) offering guidance and support when she acts wrongfully. Knightley is a secure, confident man, and his happy union with Emma is based on what every woman surely wants – equality and respect.

Now the experts have made their case, it’s your turn to decide which of Austen’s seven leading men is her best. Click the image below to vote in our poll, and see if other readers agree with you.

This article features references to books that have been included for editorial reasons, and may contain links to bookshop.org. If you click on one of the links and go on to buy something from bookshop.org The Conversation UK may earn a commission.

The Conversation

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. Who was Jane Austen’s best leading man? These experts think they know – https://theconversation.com/who-was-jane-austens-best-leading-man-these-experts-think-they-know-252756

Understanding tick immunity may be key to preventing killer viruses from spreading

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Marine J. Petit, Lecturer in Virology, Section of Virology, Institute for Sustainability, University of Surrey

24K-Production/Shutterstock

A tiny tick crawls across your skin, potentially carrying a virus so lethal it kills up to four out of every ten people it infects. Yet that same tick shows no signs of illness whatsoever – it feeds, moves and reproduces as if nothing is wrong.

Scientists studying severe fever with thrombocytopenia syndrome virus (SFTSV) have long wondered why this happens. The pathogen, first identified in China in 2009, causes high fevers, bleeding and organ failure in humans, but leaves ticks completely unharmed.

Alongside colleagues, I conducted research into how ticks can carry deadly viruses without becoming ill themselves. Understanding these resistance mechanisms could help scientists develop new ways to block or weaken tick-borne diseases before they spill over into humans or animals.

The findings come as climate change pushes ticks into new territories around the world. The Asian longhorned tick that carries SFTSV has been identified in Australia, New Zealand and the eastern US, raising concerns the disease could spread to regions that have never seen it before.

Unlike mice, humans or even mosquitoes, ticks pose a unique scientific challenge: most of the molecular tools researchers use to study infection simply don’t work in ticks.

Instead, we turned to data analysis. We captured detailed molecular snapshots of infected tick cells, tracking thousands of genes and more than 17,000 proteins simultaneously. This allowed the team to study the cellular response comprehensively, at different time post-infection.

We found that while human cells respond to viral invasion by mounting aggressive immune responses, mobilising multiple defence systems to fight the infection, tick cells take a fundamentally different approach.

Survival strategy

Ticks do have immune systems but they operate very differently from ours. Like humans, ticks have cellular signalling pathways that help detect and respond to infection. Known as Toll, IMD and JAK-STAT, these pathways coordinate defensive responses and trigger the production of antimicrobial proteins.

But when infected with SFTSV, the tick’s immune system showed only minimal activity. Instead of launching full-scale defensive responses, these pathways remained largely quiet. The virus appears to have evolved ways to avoid triggering the tick’s immune alarm bells.

Instead, the tick cells made major changes to their stress response systems, their production of RNA and proteins, and the pathways that control cell death. (RNA is a molecule that carries genetic instructions – like a working copy of DNA – used by cells to make proteins.) Rather than attacking the virus head-on, tick cells seem to tolerate the infection, reorganising their internal machinery to manage the damage while continuing to function.

This approach makes evolutionary sense when you consider the constraints these tiny creatures face. Mounting a full-blown immune response is energetically expensive – it requires lots of resources and can harm the host’s own tissues.

For ticks, which feed only a few times in their life and live off limited energy reserves, a gentler response may be more sustainable. And because this virus has likely been infecting ticks for millions of years, the two have had time to adapt to each other.

Rather than killing the host, the virus may have evolved to fly under the radar, while the tick evolved ways to tolerate it – allowing both to survive and reproduce.

Unexpected antiviral guardians

We identified two key proteins that act as molecular RNA quality controllers. These proteins, called UPF1 and DHX9, are ancient guardians found in all complex life forms, from plants to humans. One of their normal functions involves monitoring and controlling the quality of RNA, the molecular messenger that carries genetic instructions around cells. Think of them as cellular proofreaders, constantly checking that genetic messages are accurate and functional.

My research team first identified these proteins when they appeared as cellular partners that directly interact with viral proteins inside infected cells. This discovery intrigued us because UPF1 and DHX9 were unexpected candidates – they aren’t typically associated with antiviral defence – yet they seemed perfectly positioned to detect or process viral RNA, likely because these proteins normally scan RNA for errors, making them well-suited to spot the unusual structures often found in viral genetic material.

To test whether these proteins fight the virus, we used genetic techniques to silence the expression of UPF1 and DHX9 in tick cells, essentially removing these molecular guardians. We found that SFTSV viral growth increased significantly when these proteins were absent, demonstrating their antiviral function.

This suggests that ticks may have evolved a different kind of immune defence known as non-canonical immunity. Instead of attacking viruses head-on using traditional immune systems, ticks seem to use more subtle strategies. In this case, their RNA quality-control proteins act as internal monitors. Because viral RNA often looks different from normal cellular RNA, these proteins may recognise it as unusual. Once detected, they can trigger internal control systems that slow down or block the virus from multiplying – helping the tick stay healthy without a full-blown immune response.

Our research has important implications because UPF1 and DHX9 proteins exist in human cells too. Understanding how they work in ticks could reveal new ways to strengthen human antiviral defences or develop treatments that enhance these natural quality-control mechanisms.

The research also opens possibilities for using these tolerance mechanisms to stop disease – either by strengthening similar defences in humans and animals, or by targeting them in ticks to break the chain of transmission. Future strategies might involve boosting antiviral proteins in wild tick populations or developing treatments that specifically target virus-tick interactions.

Traditional approaches to disease control are struggling to keep up, especially as climate change helps ticks expand into new regions. To prevent future outbreaks, we need a deeper understanding of how ticks, and the viruses they carry, interact with both humans and animals.

Learning how these tiny creatures tolerate deadly pathogens could be key to developing new tools that make people and animals less vulnerable to these diseases – or prevent ticks from passing them on in the first place.

The Conversation

Marine J. Petit receives funding from European Union’s Horizon 2020 Research and Innovation Program under the Marie Skłodowska-Curie grant agreement No 890970.

ref. Understanding tick immunity may be key to preventing killer viruses from spreading – https://theconversation.com/understanding-tick-immunity-may-be-key-to-preventing-killer-viruses-from-spreading-261689

Japan’s shifting memory of the second world war is raising fears of renewed militarism

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Lewis Eves, Lecturer in Government and International Relations, University of Essex

Eighty years have passed since Japan’s surrender ended the second world war. But the way Japan thinks about its wartime history is changing at pace. This is coinciding with a political shift that risks renewed Japanese militarism, an outcome that would complicate politics across east Asia.

Japan’s traditional narrative of the war originated in the post-war occupation, a period in which the US oversaw the demilitarisation of Japanese society. These efforts included the establishment and adoption of Japan’s current constitution in 1947.

Article 9 of the constitution renounces the use of force as a means of settling international disputes, thus limiting the Japanese military to being a purely defensive organisation. Japan has upheld Article 9 since its inception, transforming itself into a pacifist nation and pursuing a humanitarian and diplomatic foreign policy.

Tokyo refused to send personnel even for UN peacekeeping missions until the 1990s, when a Japanese military contingent arrived in Cambodia following its civil war. When its troops have been involved, they have only served in supporting rather than combat roles.

The US occupying force also developed a peace education programme for Japanese schools. This programme established the core themes and ideas surrounding Japan’s traditional narrative of the war.

The narrative renounces militarism and points to the second world war as a cautionary tale of the excesses of nationalism and aggression. It explains that Japan was misled by militaristic social elites and that the war was not in the best interests of the Japanese people.

Remembering war crimes

Japan’s traditional narrative also encourages introspective contemplation of Japanese war crimes, such as the massacre of Chinese civilians in the captured city of Nanjing between December 1937 and January 1938. These atrocities are considered shameful and are not usually discussed in public by traditionalists.

When support for militarism grows, however, survivors of the war share stories of the atrocities they witnessed or – indeed – participated in. One instance of this occurred in 2007, when references to some of Japan’s wartime atrocities were removed from school textbooks.

Prominent traditionalists spoke out against this, with Rev. Kinjo Shigeaki giving interviews warning against militarism. He shared the story of how, brainwashed by Japanese Imperial Army soldiers into believing American troops would rape all the local women and run over the men with their tanks, he murdered his mother and siblings in 1945.

Nowadays, the traditional narrative is most popular among older Japanese people who lived through the war or the immediate post-war period. By holding true a historical narrative that renounces militarism, traditionalists are in favour of Article 9 and Japan’s pacifistic foreign policy.

A group of Japanese troops patrolling a street in South Sudan on foot.
Japanese peacekeeping troops patrolling Juba, the capital of South Sudan, in 2015.
Richard Juilliart / Shutterstock

The revisionist narrative emerged in the 1950s. Since then, it has grown to challenge the traditional narrative in popularity. It seeks to explain that the war was morally justified as an effort to liberate east Asia from western imperialists.

At the same time, the revisionist narrative also explains that the war was misguided. Its proponents argue that, by attacking and subjugating neighbouring countries, Japan was merely mimicking western-style imperialism.

Accusing the west of corrupting Japan predates the revisionist narrative. An instance of it can be found as early as the Tokyo War Crimes Tribunal, which took place between 1946 and 1948. General Ishiwara Kanji, the wartime leader of the Imperial Japanese Army, argued that Japan was forced to open up by the west and to behave as a western power.




Read more:
‘Then the city started to burn, the fires were chasing me’ – 80 years on, Hiroshima survivors describe how the atomic blast echoed down generations


Ishiwara told the tribunal: “When Japan did open its doors and tried dealing with other countries, it learned that all those countries were a fearfully aggressive lot. And so for its own defence it took your own country as its teacher and set about learning how to be aggressive. You might say we became your disciples.”

This perspective underpins the revisionist narrative’s framing of the Japanese people as a primary victim of the war. That an otherwise peaceful people with good intentions made the error of mimicking the west, resulting in a war in which they suffered the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

By failing to condemn militarism, the revisionist narrative makes Japanese rearmament permissible. As a result, revisionists tend to oppose Article 9 and call for Japan to restore its military.

Why does this matter?

Historical narratives change. It is at the Japanese nation’s discretion which narrative it favours, with both probably capturing some aspect of Japan’s complex wartime history. What is concerning, though, is that the current shift in how Japan remembers its wartime history may contribute to militaristic backsliding.

Japan held elections for its upper house, the House of Councillors, in July. The rightwing populist Sanseitō party secured over 12% of the national vote, up from 3.33% in 2022. Sanseitō is an ultranationalist and pro-revisionist party that glorifies Japan’s imperial past and promises to revoke Article 9.

Alongside other pro-revisionist parties, it draws significant support from young voters. Young people in Japan nowadays consume significantly more revisionist media than older generations, alluding to the popularity of this narrative among young voters.




Read more:
Rightwing populist Sanseitō party shakes Japan with election surge


Japan’s neighbours view Sanseitō and other revisionist parties with suspicion. China, which lost more than 20 million people following Japan’s wartime invasion, has condemned calls for Article 9 reform. Past efforts to reform Article 9 – or even just pursue a more assertive foreign policy – have triggered large anti-Japanese protests in cities throughout China.

East Asia is already rich with possible flashpoints for conflict and hostility. These include concerns over possible Chinese military action against Taiwan, North Korean military posturing and Russia’s growing influence in the region.

Adding a re-militarised Japan, no longer inhibited by the aggressions of its imperial past, would only complicate matters further.

The Conversation

Lewis Eves 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. Japan’s shifting memory of the second world war is raising fears of renewed militarism – https://theconversation.com/japans-shifting-memory-of-the-second-world-war-is-raising-fears-of-renewed-militarism-262809

How bad science is becoming big business

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Owen Brierley, Course Leader in the Department of Creative Industries, Kingston University

Fraudulent science is not about just a few bad apples. Joanna Dorota/Shutterstock

Researchers are dealing with a disturbing trend that threatens the foundation of scientific progress: scientific fraud has become an industry. And it’s growing faster than legitimate peer reviewed science journals can keep up with.

This isn’t about individual bad actors anymore. We’re witnessing the emergence of an organised, systematic approach to scientific fraud. This includes paper mills churning out formulaic research articles, brokerages guaranteeing publication for a fee and predatory journals that bypass quality assurance entirely.

These organisations disguise themselves behind respectable sounding labels such as “editing services” or “academic consultants”. In reality, their business model depends on corrupting the scientific process.

Paper mills operate like content farms, flooding journals with submissions to overwhelm peer review systems. They practice journal targeting, sending multiple papers to one publication, and journal hopping, submitting the same paper to multiple outlets simultaneously. It’s a numbers game. If even a fraction slip through, the fraudulent service profits.

Is this just a case of scientists being lazy? The answer is more complex and troubling. Today’s researchers face constraints that make these fraudulent services increasingly tempting. The pressure to continually produce new research or risk getting your funding cut, called the “publish or perish” culture, is a longstanding problem.

As well, governments around the world are facing financial struggles and are looking to trim costs, resulting in less funding for research. Less funding means increased competition.

This creates a catch-22 situation for researchers who need publications to win funding but need funding to conduct publishable research. Environmental factors compound the issue. Globalisation means individual researchers are lost in an ocean of competing voices, making the temptation to game the system even stronger.

In this environment, the promise of guaranteed publication can seem like a lifeline rather than a Faustian bargain.

AI: Acceleration at what cost?

The rise of generative AI has supercharged this fraud industry. Researchers are witnessing an explosion in research articles that appear to exploit AI software to produce papers at an unprecedented speed. These papers mine public data sets that offer surface level evidence. These hastily generated papers bear hallmarks of a paper mill production process, including evidence fabrication, data manipulation, ethics misconduct and outright plagiarism.

Where a peer reviewer might once have received ten submissions for a conference or journal in a year, they’re now drowning in 30 or 40 submissions with a shorter time frame (six months or less), with legitimate research buried in the avalanche.

AI chip on circuit board shaped like a brain.
AI has turned into a cat and mouse game for researchers and reviewers.
Blue Andy/Shutterstock

Overwhelmed reviewers, in turn, are tempted to use AI tools to summarise papers, identify gaps in the evidence and even write review responses. This is creating an arms race. Some researchers have started embedding hidden text in their submissions, such as white text on white backgrounds or microscopic fonts, containing instructions to override AI prompts and give the paper positive reviews.

The peer review system, academia’s safeguard against fraud, faces its own problems. Although it’s meant to ensure quality, it is a slow process where new ideas need careful examination and testing. History reminds us that peer review is essential but imperfect. Albert Einstein hated it.

Because the process is slow, many researchers share their findings first on pre-publication platforms, where work can be shared immediately. By the time the research reaches a legitimate science conference or journal, non peer review publications are already being distributed to the world. Waiting for the peer review process means a researcher risks missing getting credit for their discovery.

The pressure to be first hasn’t changed since Isaac Newton let his calculus discovery languish unpublished while Gottfried Leibniz claimed the kudos. What has changed is the scale and systematisation of shortcuts.

A rise in batch retractions (ten or more papers simultaneously withdrawn) signals that we’re not dealing with isolated incidents but with an industrial-scale problem. In the 1990s there were almost no batch retractions. In 2020 there were around 3,000 and over 6,000 in 2023.

In comparison, in 2023 there were 2,000 single paper retractions. This means that batch retractions of more than ten papers were three times higher than single paper retractions.

A path forward

If this were simply about weeding out unethical scientists, the systems we already have might suffice. But we’re facing a challenge to the network of checks and balances that makes science work. When fraudulent publications grow faster than legitimate science and when AI-generated content overwhelms human review capacity, we need better solutions.

The scientific community must reckon with how its own structures; the publication metrics, funding mechanisms and career incentives, have created vulnerabilities that unethical systems can exploit.

Until we address these systemic issues, the fraud industry will thrive, undermining the enterprise that has made our world safer, cleaner and more accessible. The question isn’t whether we can afford to fix this system—it’s whether we can afford not to.

The Conversation

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

ref. How bad science is becoming big business – https://theconversation.com/how-bad-science-is-becoming-big-business-262821

What’s the secret to fixing the UK’s public finances? Here’s what our panel of experts would do

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Steve Schifferes, Honorary Research Fellow, City Political Economy Research Centre, City St George’s, University of London

Unexpected growth in the UK economy isn’t enough to detract from the gaping hole in the country’s public finances. Speculation is ramping up about what steps the chancellor of the exchequer, Rachel Reeves, might take to plug the gap come the budget in autumn – and there are no shortage of ideas. The trouble is, each comes with risks and unknowns. Our experts have weighed up the evidence to offer their suggestions.

Bite the bullet – raise income tax

Maha Rafi Atal, Adam Smith Senior Lecturer in Political Economy, University of Glasgow

Rachel Reeves and the Labour party made three promises to the electorate last summer: to repair broken public services, to reduce immigration and to avoid an income tax hike. Unfortunately for Reeves, the three promises are at odds with one another.

To raise the revenue needed to invest in public services without a tax rise, the government needs economic growth. This is so it can raise the funds by taxing the same share of a larger pie. Restrictions on migration, however, are a drag on the growth of key sectors of the economy. This includes areas such as finance, the creative industries and higher education.

The chancellor has instead tried to raise other taxes, including employer national insurance contribution rates. But because these taxes hit businesses (which may pay for them by cutting back elsewhere) they can be a drag on growth too. In more prosperous global times, Reeves might have got around this by borrowing, but the UK’s borrowing costs are much higher than those faced by the last Labour government.

At some point, then, Reeves will have to choose between raising income tax and allowing cuts to public services. Voters tell pollsters they would much rather face the tax rise. This might take the form of a raise in the basic rate (a change of just 1% could raise as much as £8 billion), or it might take less direct forms like an extended freeze on the tax thresholds.

If the money is used to rebuild services, there’s time for that to bear political fruit before the next election. Holding off on income tax to avoid political blowback in the short term is penny-wise, pound-foolish in the long run.

Inheritance tax – progressive vote-winner or punishing aspiration?

Conor O’Kane, Senior Lecturer in Economics, University of Bournemouth

One of the things Labour is thought to be considering is changes to inheritance tax (IHT). The view is that, given property has appreciated so much in recent years, changes to the thresholds and rules around gifting could raise the revenues required to eliminate the shortfall. As an example, gifts given seven years or more before someone dies are not currently liable for IHT. This approach may appease those Labour backbenchers who have been calling for a wealth tax to finance public spending.

However, IHT brings political as well as economic risks. In the 2024 autumn budget, cuts to tax breaks for farmers passing on their businesses drew fierce criticism and angry protests. Opposition parties are likely to label any change to IHT as a “death tax”.

Economically, it will be difficult to predict how much revenue IHT changes would raise, as there may well be loopholes that can be exploited to avoid the new charges. But Labour could sell changes to IHT as progressive – put simply, those who benefited more from increases in property values pay a little more. Opposition parties, however, could frame it as a tax on aspiration.

There are no easy solutions here. Labour will need to tread carefully and will be keen to avoid policy rollbacks like those they recently experienced with winter fuel allowance and disability benefits.




Read more:
Wealth taxes don’t always work the way governments hope they will. Here are some alternatives


Keep freezing income tax bands – and hope voters don’t notice

Steve Schifferes, Honorary Research Fellow, City St George’s University

Rachel Reeves faces a challenging task in the budget this autumn. Based on her own fiscal rules, there is a large hole in the public finances that will need to be filled. And as she has ruled out major changes to these fiscal rules, while also facing pressure to increase spending from within the Labour party, it is clear that she will have to raise taxes.

So it is likely that, whatever else she does, continuing the freeze (which is due to expire in 2028) on the basic and higher rate of income tax for another two years is likely to top her agenda. The freeze on thresholds is already projected to have increased income tax receipts by £40 billion per year by 2028, and extending it to 2029-30 could increase government tax receipts by an additional £7-£8 billion a year. This would make a substantial contribution to bridging the fiscal shortfall.

For one thing, it is the continuation of an existing policy and will not take effect until the 2028/29 fiscal year, when the current freeze ends. This makes it harder for people to gauge its real effects on their income. Although it will attract criticism for breaking her income tax pledge, it would be politically easier to justify than direct changes in tax rates. And unlike wealth taxes, it is difficult to avoid.

Cutting tax relief for pensions could be a hidden pot of cash

Jonquil Lowe, Senior Lecturer in Economics and Personal Finance, Open University

Debates about tackling government debt typically centre on cutting spending or raising taxes. But a third option, often overlooked, is restricting tax reliefs. An obvious candidate is pension tax reliefs over and above the basic rate, which benefit the better-off and are skewed towards men (since women’s ability to save is often suppressed due to unpaid care work).

The various income tax and national insurance reliefs for pension schemes (tax relief on contributions, tax-free income and gains for pension funds and tax-free lump sum at retirement) cost the government £52 billion in 2023-4.

By design, any system that gives people tax relief up to their highest marginal rate is regressive (it benefits the better-off more than those who are less well off), and around two-thirds of pension tax reliefs go to higher-rate and additional-rate taxpayers.

Advocates may argue that tax reliefs are necessary to encourage people to save for retirement. But the evidence does not support this. First, the only step up in UK pension saving in modern times has been due to the introduction of auto-enrolment in 2012 – not tax reliefs.

Second, research suggests that when tax-relieved savings schemes are introduced, they prompt a shift of existing savings. That is to say, people tend to move other savings into their pensions for the tax benefits rather than actually putting more money away overall for the future. But clearly, tax relief does not help people to save more if they don’t have the extra funds in the first place. And on social justice grounds, does it make sense for the mass of taxpayers to subsidise the relatively well-off who can readily save anyway?

wind turbines in the sea off the coast of the UK
Investing in clean energy could pay dividends for the UK economy.
Ian Dyball/Shutterstock

Invest – and outgrow the fiscal black hole

Guilherme Klein Martins, Lecturer in Economics, University of Leeds, and Research Associate at the Research Center on Macroeconomics of Inequalities (Made/USP)

The UK should pass a modern golden rule focused on investment. The government should write into law a multi-year minimum for net public investment – at least 3% of GDP – so that capital spending can’t be raided when money for everyday spending is tight. Britain’s main constraint to economic growth is weak supply – service backlogs, infrastructure bottlenecks and lasting scars from under-investment that hold down productivity and labour supply. This will not recover by itself.

International evidence shows that each 1% of GDP in public investment raises output by roughly 1.5% over a few years. The combination of a higher GDP and increased tax receipts should make this policy at least neutral in terms of the debt-GDP ratio.

And Reeves must think strategically. Alongside sectors where the UK aims to build a comparative advantage – areas such as clean energy, life sciences, advanced manufacturing and digital/AI – it must also cover social and general infrastructure. This means the NHS, schools and skills, care and local transport.

To keep choices disciplined and transparent, the government could publish a list of projects, ranked and updated regularly. Spending watchdog the Office for Budget Responsibility could then scrutinise the assumptions behind the growth and revenue payoffs. The message is simple: protect and stabilise investment to raise growth and help Britain outgrow the fiscal hole.

The Conversation

Jonquil Lowe is is a member of the Women’s Budget Group’s policy advisory group

Conor O’Kane, Guilherme Klein Martins, Maha Rafi Atal, and Steve Schifferes 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. What’s the secret to fixing the UK’s public finances? Here’s what our panel of experts would do – https://theconversation.com/whats-the-secret-to-fixing-the-uks-public-finances-heres-what-our-panel-of-experts-would-do-263164