Source: The Conversation – UK – By Keighley Perkins, Research Associate School of Journalism, Media and Culture, Cardiff University; Swansea University
Voters in Wales will soon go to the polls to elect members of an expanded Senedd (Welsh parliament) under a new proportional voting system. As the campaign has developed, public service broadcasters have sought not only to report events but to educate, inform and engage audiences with an unfamiliar electoral process.
Our analysis suggests they are increasingly doing so through digital platforms. We analysed all election news content produced online and on social media by major broadcasters between April 8 and April 24, including BBC Wales, ITV Wales, S4C, Channel 4 and Sky News.
The findings point to a move towards formats designed for audiences who are more likely to encounter news online than through traditional television.
This matters because people increasingly come across political content passively, through algorithmically curated feeds rather than actively seeking it out. In that environment, the type of content produced – and how it’s presented – can play a decisive role in shaping public understanding of the election.
One prominent feature of digital coverage has been the use of explainers. These aim to demystify the election by breaking down how the Senedd works, how the voting system has changed and which policy areas are devolved to Wales or reserved to Westminster.
Many of these explainers adopt a more informal and accessible tone than their broadcast equivalents. They’re designed to cut through in fast-moving social media feeds where political information competes for attention.
A significant proportion focus on policy. Of the 19 explainers identified in our analysis, seven centred on specific issues, most commonly immigration. This reflects persistent public confusion about where responsibility lies.
Our recent survey found that nearly a third of people in Wales did not know immigration is controlled by the UK government. Against that backdrop, broadcasters have often made this distinction explicit. In 82% of online and social media items mentioning immigration, journalists clearly stated that responsibility lies with Westminster.
Broadcasters have also used explainers to clarify changes to the electoral system. This includes the move to a closed-list proportional system. Public awareness of this change remains low, however. Only 7% of respondents in our survey correctly identified the system, while 58% said they did not know.
Meet the leaders
Alongside explainers, broadcasters have used digital formats to introduce audiences to the leaders of Wales’s six main political parties. This has reinforced the campaign’s increasingly presidential tone, with party leaders dominating media appearances.
In a devolved context, this is not always straightforward, given the presence of both UK-wide and Welsh political figures. But digital formats have provided new ways to foreground Welsh leaders.
Short, one-to-one interviews have become an important feature. Formats such as the BBC’s Quickfire Questions and ITV’s Chippy Chats mix light-touch prompts – like “What song have you got on repeat?” – with more substantive questions about policy priorities.
These formats inject personality into political coverage. Leaders are presented not only as decision-makers but as people with interests and personalities. This is particularly significant given relatively low public awareness of Welsh political figures.
Our recent survey found that fewer than half of respondents could identify the leader of Plaid Cymru, Rhun ap Iorwerth, despite the fact he could become the next first minister.
At the same time, the informal tone has not entirely displaced scrutiny. In ITV’s Chippy Chats for example, the Welsh Liberal Democrat leader Jane Dodds was challenged on her voting record in the Senedd. It’s a reminder that accountability can still be built into more conversational formats.
Informing voters in a digital campaign
Taken together, these approaches suggest broadcasters are using digital platforms in distinct and complementary ways. Explainers aim to address gaps in public knowledge. One-to-one interviews make political leaders more visible and relatable.
This reflects a broader transformation in how election coverage is produced and consumed. As more people encounter political information online, public service broadcasters play an increasingly important role in countering misinformation and improving understanding of politics and public affairs.
The challenge is now to strike the right balance. Broadcasters must produce content that engages audiences. But they shouldn’t lose sight of the need to inform them and to scrutinise the claims made by political parties.
Keighley Perkins receives funding from AHRC for research into broadcasters’ impartiality.
Maxwell Modell receives funding from the AHRC for research into broadcasters’ impartiality.
Stephen Cushion has received funding from the BBC Trust, Ofcom, AHRC, BA, ESRC and Welsh Government.
Co-working spaces have become a familiar part of the working landscape. A convenient alternative to working from home or an employer’s office, they have become the favoured option of millions of the world’s freelancers, entrepreneurs and remote workers.
In the UK, there are over 4,000 co-working venues to choose from. Prices vary, depending on location and facilities, but with a dedicated desk costing around £200 per month, it’s worth knowing how to make the most of what these spaces offer.
So how do you choose the right co-working space for you? And how do you get the maximum benefit? Here are four practical tips to consider:
1. Identify your needs
Not all co-working spaces serve the same purpose. Some people are simply looking for a quiet desk outside the home, while others want a social environment where they can meet people, exchange ideas and build connections.
Being clear about what you want, whether it’s productivity, networking opportunities or skill development, is the first step.
Smaller, independently run spaces often place greater emphasis on community building, with managers who organise regular informal events such as “lunch and learn” sessions or workshops. These environments can create more opportunities for social interaction and learning.
By contrast, larger corporate-style spaces may offer more polished facilities and business services, but with fewer opportunities for facilitated interaction. Choosing the right co-working environment means considering the type of space and how you plan to use it.
2. Give it a try
Co-working spaces are often advertised as being open and inclusive. But research I worked on with colleagues shows that experiences can vary depending on factors such as age, gender or professional background.
Some spaces will probably feel more welcoming than others, particularly ones where equality, diversity and inclusion are a deliberate part of their design and ethos.
Many spaces are now also set up with specific groups in mind. For example, some cater to female entrepreneurs, while others offer tailored support for neurodivergent workers.
Before committing, it’s worth visiting a space, attending an event, or trying a short term pass (for a couple of days or a week) to see whether it feels like a good fit.
3. It’s more than a desk
It’s easy to treat co-working spaces as simply a place to work. But research suggests much of its value lies in the connections, community and everyday interactions it makes possible.
Casual conversations in the kitchen or spontaneous exchanges over lunch can help build communication skills, expand professional networks, and spark new collaborations. Evidence suggests that these benefits tend to be particularly strong for those who are newer to a city, earlier in their careers, or working independently. They may have have less established local networks or fewer everyday opportunities for office-based interaction, making them more likely to seek out social connections within co-working spaces.
If you only show up, put your headphones while you work and then leave, you may miss out on some of the main advantages of co-working – the opportunity to connect with others and become part of a community. Making the most of these spaces often means being willing to take that first step, engage with others and gradually find your own circle.
4. Take advantage
If your work involves specialised tools, digital technology or continuous skill development, you may need more than just wifi and coffee from a co-working space.
Many now offer access to specialist software and cutting edge equipment such as 3D printers or virtual reality devices, which can be costly or difficult to access by yourself.
Some go a step further and organise workshops and training sessions, or even events that reflect the latest developments in a particular field. These resources can be particularly valuable for independent workers including freelancers and the self-employed, who may not have access to structured on-the-job training through an employer.
Using them can help you build practical, up-to-date technical and digital skills, especially as new technologies and AI continue to reshape the skills demanded in many industries. So don’t overlook what’s on offer, whether it’s a workshop, a new tool, or a piece of equipment. Making use of these opportunities can help you stay adaptable, keep learning and be better prepared for what comes next.
Overall then, co-working spaces can offer valuable opportunities to learn new skills, build networks and adapt to changing ways of working. But these benefits are not automatic and they are not the same for everyone.
Getting the most out of co-working often depends on how you use the space and whether it matches your needs. At its best, co-working is not just about renting a desk, but about finding an environment where you can connect, learn and grow.
Zihan Wang receives funding from Made Smarter Innovation: Centre for People-Led Digitalisation, at the University of Bath, University of Nottingham and Loughborough University. The project was funded by the Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council (EPSRC) (grant number EP/V062042/1).
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Nima Shokri, Executive Co-Director, Institute for Water, Environment and Health (UNU-INWEH), United Nations University; Technical University of Hamburg
The Strait of Hormuz – the narrow waterway through which between 20% and 25% of the world’s seaborne oil normally passes – has been effectively closed for just over two months.
As tensions have escalated, Iran has restricted passage through the Strait, while the US has imposed a naval blockade on Iranian shipping, sharply limiting Tehran’s ability to export crude. On May 3, the US president Donald Trump announced Project Freedom, by which US warships would escort vessels from countries not involved in the conflict through the Strait. But some reports have suggested that Iran has since fired on several ships attempting to transit and the waterway remains effectively closed.
The immediate consequences are tankers stranded, prices surging, and Iran rapidly running out of places to store its oil. Analysts now warn that storage could fill within weeks, forcing producers to shut wells altogether.
But the deeper story lies far below the surface. Oil wells are not designed to be switched off and on at will. And when they are, the damage can linger long after the crisis has passed.
To understand why, it helps to ditch the idea of oil fields as underground lakes. In reality, oil sits trapped inside microscopic pores in rock, typically a hundredth of a millimeter wide, held there by pressure, temperature, and a delicate balance between oil, gas and water.
Shutting them down, especially abruptly and for long periods, can alter their internal balance in ways that are difficult, sometimes impossible, to reverse. Production works because the system is in motion. When a well is open, pressure differences drive oil toward the wellbore (a drilled channel connecting the oil reservoir to the surface). Over time, that pressure naturally declines, which is why operators use techniques such as water or gas injection to maintain flow.
The key point is that reservoirs are dynamic. They depend on continuous management to remain productive.
Shut the well and the movement of the oil stops. The consequences begin almost immediately. One of the first changes occurs in pressure distribution. While shutting down a well can temporarily allow pressure to build back up near the wellbore, the broader reservoir may experience uneven redistribution.
The US blockade of Iran means Iran’s storage is almost full.
In fields that rely on carefully managed injection, where water or gas is pumped in to push oil out, halting operations disrupts that system. The injected fluids can migrate unpredictably, sometimes bypassing oil-rich zones entirely when production resumes. The fluid can chose a different path for movement so it may no longer push the oil out of the reservoir.
Then there is the chemistry. Crude oil is not a uniform substance; it contains heavier components such as waxes and asphaltenes — long-chain hydrocarbons and dense, complex molecules that can solidify or precipitate out under changing conditions. Under stable flow conditions, these remain dissolved. But when flow stops and temperatures or pressures change, these components can essentially clog the tiny pores in the rock or the well itself. Once deposited, these materials can restrict flow unless expensive – and not always successful – techniques are used to repair the damage.
Water adds another layer of complexity. All reservoirs contain formation water (the naturally occurring water trapped in the rock alongside oil and gas), and in some cases injected seawater. When a well is shut in, water can intrude into zones that previously produced mostly oil. Over time, this “water invasion” can become entrenched, meaning that when production resumes, the well produces far more water and far less oil. Separating and disposing of that water is costly, and in some cases the oil production becomes uneconomic.
There are also mechanical risks. The well itself is lined with steel casing and cement, and is designed to operate under certain conditions. Long shutdowns can lead to corrosion, scaling (mineral build-up), or even structural integrity issues. In extreme cases, restarting a well can require significant reworking, akin to reopening a mine that has partially collapsed.
Perhaps the most misunderstood aspect is what happens at the scale of the whole oil reservoir over longer periods. Some reservoirs are highly sensitive to pressure changes. If pressure drops too low or fluctuates unpredictably, the rock structure can compact. This compaction reduces the pores available to store and transmit fluids, permanently lowering the field’s production potential.
Gas behaviour also matters. In many reservoirs, gas is dissolved in oil under high pressure. When pressure falls below a certain threshold, gas comes out of solution, which forms bubbles that can block flow pathways . If this happens unevenly during a shutdown, it can leave behind pockets of oil that are effectively stranded.
All of this helps explain why operators are cautious about shutting in production unless they have to. It is not just a matter of lost revenue during downtime – it’s the risk of losing future production capacity altogether. That said, not all wells suffer equally. Some reservoirs are more resilient.
In many cases, particularly in large conventional fields, production can be restored relatively quickly after a shutdown, as seen in past disruptions. But this doesn’t mean the reservoir is unaffected – even when output returns, subtle changes can reduce efficiency, increase costs, or leave some oil permanently unrecovered. In practice, this can mean a reduction in how much oil is ultimately recoverable. Some pockets may become harder to access or uneconomic to produce under normal conditions, even if they remain physically in place. That does not imply the oil is lost forever, but it can shift part of it beyond reach with current technology or prices, effectively lowering the field’s long-term yield.
There are environmental risks too. Closure of wells may cut emissions in the short term, but pressure instability can increase methane leakage. Restarting wells often involves flaring and venting, adding further emissions. Over time, water intrusion and reservoir damage can raise the environmental cost per barrel, as more energy is needed to extract less oil.
Modern engineering can mitigate some risks through careful planning maintaining minimal circulation, managing pressure, or using chemical treatments. But these measures require time, coordination, and resources, which may not be available in a sudden geopolitical crisis.
The broader lesson is that oil production is not easily paused and resumed like a factory assembly line. It is a continuous interaction with a complex natural system. Interruptions especially abrupt, large-scale ones can leave lasting scars beneath the surface, long after the valves are reopened.
Nima Shokri is affiliated with Hamburg University of Technology.
Martin J. Blunt 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.
As King Charles concludes his transatlantic travels with a visit to Bermuda, a British Overseas Territory, he can take pride in a job well done. His four-day state visit to the US – which concluded with a wreath-laying at Arlington National Cemetery and a block party in Virginia – appears to have been a success.
Amid a period of heightened tension between President Donald Trump and Prime Minister Keir Starmer, the king’s carefully calibrated speech to a joint session of Congress has secured praise on both sides of the Atlantic (and on both sides of the Congressional aisle).
It was a remarkable performance: careful, diplomatic, occasionally pointed and at times both charming and witty. Perhaps we should not be that surprised. The king is a highly experienced diplomat, and while this was his first address to Congress, it was his 20th visit to Washington – as he himself noted.
But what does the undoubtedly warm American response to the king’s visit mean for the future of the US-UK “special relationship”?
On its own, no act of royal diplomacy, however well executed, can deliver an instant reset in US-UK relations. Nor can it force an American president of any stripe – let alone the current incumbent – to change tack or alter approach.
On this, history offers a salutary lesson. For all the positive impact of King George VI’s June 1939 visit to the US, when war broke out just a few months later, it did not lead to instant American intervention.
The queen’s visit in 1957 was similarly well received. But the work of rebuilding transatlantic trust – so damaged by the Suez crisis – remained ongoing in the months that followed.
This latest state visit will similarly offer no quick fix. But like its predecessors, it might shift the dial on the current US-UK dialogue – and perhaps help to temper the tone, at least for a while.
For the UK, there has already been one immediate win: Trump has decided to remove whisky tariffs in honour of the king’s visit. This will be very much welcomed by the Scottish whisky industry.
The potential long-term impact of the king’s visit is harder to ascertain. Not least because this will be determined by variables well beyond either his or Starmer’s control: contemporary geopolitics, especially as affected by the wars in Iran and Ukraine. Despite this week’s mutual exchange of praise and platitudes, the distance between London and Washington on these matters remains substantive.
Worlds apart
There was a brief glimpse of these differences in two of the speeches: the king’s to Congress and, on the same day, the president’s at the White House.
The king’s speech lingered on the shared ties of history and, especially, on democratic values and ideals. It included references to the importance of compassion and interfaith dialogue, and celebrated the strength of what the king called “our vibrant, diverse and free societies”.
President Trump’s speech at the White House a few hours earlier similarly featured references to the transatlantic connections born of history. But elsewhere, his tone and intent seemed rather different.
Trump celebrated “the blood and noble spirit of the British” – qualities which had provided American revolutionaries with a “majestic inheritance”. At one point, he even declared that the patriots of the American Revolution had been animated by the “Anglo-Saxon courage” in their veins. This is a claim on American history that one commentator has suggested “walks up to the edge of white nationalism”.
There are indeed echoes here of an early 20th-century diplomatic discourse known as Anglo-Saxonism. Once popular and pervasive among transatlantic writers and diplomats (including those of a nativist bent), it largely fell out of favour in the years between the world wars – its racial assumptions increasingly untenable.
As long ago as December 1918, President Woodrow Wilson explicitly told an audience of British dignitaries – including King Charles’s great-grandfather, George V – that they must not “think of us as Anglo-Saxons, for that term can no longer be rightly applied to the people of the United States”.
Wilson was the first serving US president to visit Britain, and, like Trump, had a British mother (Trump’s was from Tong on the Isle of Lewis, Scotland). Wil point – made in advance of the Paris Peace Conference – was that the US was a melting pot, not a monoculture.
King Charles’s speech hailed the importance of alliances (Nato), of multilateral institutions (the UN), and of the rule of law. These, he argued, are what has delivered eight decades of transatlantic peace and prosperity.
From the president, meanwhile, came a celebration of Anglo-American blood brotherhood. It was at times reminiscent of thinking (and language) which his predecessor Wilson – no “woke” radical – had called into question well over a century ago.
These two visions of the US-UK relationship, distinct in their underlying assumptions, reflect a broader geopolitical shift – one which has increasingly strained the transatlantic relationship in recent months.
The king’s vision, indicative of widespread sentiment in Europe, represents an affirmation of the post-1945 world order. The other, with its echoes of the early 20th century, is disruptive. Between them lies a chasm of significant proportions, and bridging it will be the task of today’s transatlantic diplomats.
Sam Edwards has previously received funding from the ESRC and the US-UK Fulbright Commission. Sam is a Governor of The American Library (Norwich) and a Trustee of Sulgrave Manor (Northamptonshire).
The UK has raised its terror threat level from “substantial” to “severe”, meaning an attack within the next six months is considered highly likely. The change means the threat level is at severe for the first time in four years. It came with a warning from the Home Office of an increased threat from individuals and small groups based in the UK.
Counter-terrorism in the UK centres on a strategy known as Contest – a key part of this is the Prevent programme. The primary objective of Prevent, as the name suggests, is to stop people becoming involved in terrorism or from supporting extremist ideologies.
As such, it is designed to deliver tailored early-intervention aimed at addressing risks of radicalisation, extremism and terrorism.
In my experience as a researcher in counter-terrorism studies, I have engaged extensively with Prevent practitioners. I have gained an insight into their work, which is carried out with commitment and dedication despite constraints in funding and resources.
A Prevent referral does not imply that someone has committed, or is suspected of committing, a criminal offence. Rather, it indicates that a professional with a statutory “Prevent duty” has raised concerns about someone’s behaviour, expressions or vulnerabilities. These professionals include teachers, healthcare workers and or social workers.
Recent data illustrates the scale of the programme: between April 2024 and March 2025, 8,778 people were referred to Prevent. This is the highest figure recorded since data collection began in 2015.
Notably, a significant proportion of these referrals involve young people, with 36% (3,192 cases) concerning children aged 11 to 15. A further 1,178 cases involved those aged 16 and 17.
The criteria for referral are broad, and they can include observable changes in behaviour, expressing extremist views, or signs of vulnerability that could make someone more susceptible to being radicalised.
Referrals are assessed by a panel that often include representatives from education, social services and law enforcement. In many cases, referrals do not progress beyond this initial stage. Instead, they may be signposted to other teams, such as social services, for more support.
But where there are still concerns, individuals may be offered support through the Channel programme. This is Prevent’s primary de-radicalisation mechanism. Channel is voluntary and confidential, and referrals can come from anyone and from any context. They are often issued by the police and education sector.
The support is tailored to the specific needs in each case and may include mentoring and mental health support. Participation is voluntary, and individuals can refuse to be involved or stop participating at any point.
Critics argue that it can result in referrals based on ambiguous or misinterpreted behaviour. As such it has the potential to reinforce polarisation, particularly in relation to specific groups such as Muslims. This can clearly leave people feeling stigmatised, under surveillance or unfairly judged, particularly if they believe the referral was based on cultural, religious or political misunderstandings.
The scheme also has significant structural limitations as it functions as a time-limited intervention rather than a system of ongoing monitoring. Once a case is closed, the person is not subject to continuous oversight. This means that a previous referral does not eliminate the possibility of future risk – it simply means that the threshold for intervention was not met at that time.
It is important to remember that positive stories rarely get widespread attention. Every year, thousands of people in the UK receive early support and successfully disengage from radical and extremist ideologies.
Prevent operates in a difficult space between safeguarding and security, where risk is assessed before an offence occurs. While high-profile cases can amplify perceptions of failure, they do not reflect the full picture. Most referrals do not lead to further action, and many result in early, voluntary support that helps people disengage from harmful pathways.
At the same time, concerns around ambiguity and stigma remain valid. In short, rather than seeing Prevent as a measure of guilt, it’s important to recognise its limitations and its role as an early intervention tool.
Elisa Orofino 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.
People in the UK are now spending fewer years in good health than they did a decade ago, according to a new analysis by the Health Foundation. The UK now sits near the bottom of a 21-country comparison, ahead only of the US.
A drop in healthy life expectancy is explained through many causes: obesity, alcohol, drugs, suicide, chronic disease, poverty and widening inequality. But one of the most powerful causes sits atop them all: housing. Where and how people live is one of the main factors explaining how health risks are created and distributed across society.
The UK Housing Review is an annual independent review of housing policy and evidence, written by housing experts and published by the Chartered Institute of Housing. Its latest edition, which we contributed to, identifies several interrelated ways that housing affects health.
A key one is affordability – housing costs shape where people can live, whether they can heat their homes, whether they can afford food and transport, whether they can move for work, whether they can leave unsafe or unsuitable housing and whether they live with chronic financial stress.
In the UK, housing costs are high by historical standards and poor housing remains widespread. The review notes that private rents are now at their highest recorded share of earnings, while millions of homes in England still contain serious health and safety hazards.
When housing is unaffordable, people are forced to make tradeoffs. For example, trading affordability for damp or overcrowded homes. They cut back on heating, food, medication, transport and social participation. They move further from public services, work and support networks. Affordability problems also force many people into cheaper, less secure, tenancies.
The Building Research Establishment, an independent research organisation, has estimated that poor housing costs the NHS in England £1.4 billion each year. More than half of this is attributed to cold homes, which increase the risk of respiratory illness, cardiovascular problems and poor mental health. They are especially dangerous for older people, babies and people with existing health conditions.
But the wider costs are even greater. Poor sleep, stress, disrupted schooling, insecure work, social isolation and caring strain all affect mental and physical health. They increase pressure on families and, over time, on health, education and social care systems.
Cold homes can cause serious and widespread health problems. Jelena Stanojkovic
Historically in the UK, social housing has provided some protection to people unable to access good quality affordable housing in the open market. But the stock of social rented housing in the UK has declined. This means that people are increasingly dependent on (often expensive) market rental, where the quality, size and location of housing depend much more directly on income.
The rise of the private rented sector this century has meant that more households are exposed, not just to higher housing costs, but also to shorter tenancies and fewer protections than social housing traditionally provided.
The Renters’ Rights Act increases security, but does not remove “no fault” evictions altogether and does little to protect tenants from economic pressures that can result in eviction. The cognitive burden of worrying about eviction, arrears, repairs or the next rent increase is a direct health risk.
Recent evidence also suggests that insecure housing can result in measurably faster biological ageing, equivalent to the effects of more traditional health concerns like smoking.
Additional weeks of biological ageing per year from different factors
Amy Clair
The number of people living in temporary accommodation has risen dramatically, reaching over 130,000 households at the beginning of 2025. This is a 156% increase compared with 2010, largely driven by the poor affordability and insecurity of the private rented sector and lack of social housing. Temporary accommodation is inadequate housing, particularly for children. Living in temporary accommodation was a contributing factor in the deaths of at least 104 children in England between 2019 and 2025, 76 of whom were under one year of age.
This is not about housing quality alone. Temporary accommodation reflects multiple risks brought together: poverty, overcrowding, poor conditions, instability, lack of space for safe infant sleep, poor access to services and wider racial and social inequality. The National Child Mortality Database identifies temporary accommodation as a contributing factor to vulnerability, ill health or death, not necessarily as the sole cause. Emerging evidence also links temporary accommodation with stillbirth and neonatal death.
ONS data shows a very large difference in healthy life expectancy between the most and least deprived areas. In 2022-24, healthy life expectancy in the most deprived areas of England was just 49.8 years for men and 48.2 years for women, compared with 69.2 and 68.5 years in the least deprived areas.
Housing contributes to this difference, determining whether people live in homes that support recovery or deepen stress, whether children grow up in stable and safe environments, and whether older people can remain warm and independent.
If the government is serious about its stated aim to “halve the gap in healthy life expectancy between the richest and poorest regions”, housing policy must become health policy.
That means investing in social housing, enforcing decent standards in the private rented sector, making homes warmer, safer and more accessible, and recognising temporary accommodation, overcrowding and insecurity as public health failures, not just housing management problems.
It also means changing the way that success is measured. Housing policy is too often judged by supply numbers, prices or tenure outcomes. These matter, but they are incomplete. A healthy housing system should also be judged by whether people can live in homes that are affordable, secure, decent, suitable and resilient to climate change.
The decline in healthy life expectancy is a warning light. It tells us that the UK is not only failing to keep people well for longer, it is failing to provide the foundations of health.
Emma Baker receives funding from the Economic and Social Research Council, the Australian Research Council, The National Health and Medical Research Council, and the Australian Housing and Urban Research Institute.
Amy Clair receives funding from the Australian Research Council and the Australian Housing and Urban Research Institute.
Mark Stephens receives funding from ESRC, the EU/Innovate UK and the Australian Housing and Urban Research Institute (AHURI).
Three Reading Women in a Summer Landscape by Johan Krouthén (1908).WikiCommons
We asked ten literary experts to recommend the climate poem that has spoken to them most powerfully. Their answers span over 200 years and a range of emotions from sorrow, to anger, fear and hope.
This article is part of Climate Storytelling, a series exploring how arts and science can join forces to spark understanding, hope and action.
1. Death of a Field by Paula Meehan (2005)
Published in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis, Paula Meehan’s Death of a Field critiqued the environmental impact of the Celtic Tiger economy in Ireland.
The poem anticipates the destruction of the titular field by property developers with little regard for native ecologies: “The end of the field as we know it is the start of the estate.”
Death of a Field read by Paula Meehan.
The global effects of the climate crisis are seen from a uniquely local perspective as the displacement of Irish wildlife mirrors the effect of colonial violence. “Some architect’s screen” is simply the latest iteration of imperial technologies that seek to plunder Irish landscapes. The poem gains further strength by refusing to replicate a hierarchical relationship to nature by preserving its many mysteries:
Who can know the yearning of yarrow
Or the plight of the scarlet pimpernel
Whose true colour is orange?
Jack Reid is a PhD Candidate in Irish literature
2. Darkness by Lord Byron (1816)
Darkness imagines the fallout of a volcanic eruption that has destroyed the Earth. The “dream” that the poem mentions was inspired by genuine weather conditions during the “year without a summer” in 1816, caused by the eruption of Mount Tambora in Indonesia the previous year.
Darkness by Lord Byron.
Sulphur in the atmosphere caused darkness and low temperatures across Europe. In Lake Geneva, Lord Byron experienced the infamous “haunted summer” of darkness.
Byron’s depiction of climate catastrophe is bleak, with words like “crackling”, “blazing” and “consum’d” bearing resemblance to contemporary reports of wildfires caused by climate change. After a famine, all elements of Byron’s Earth, from the clouds to the tide, eventually cease to exist: “Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless– / A lump of death – a chaos of hard clay.” Read as a portent of the Anthropocene, Byron’s poem urges readers to seriously consider the future of mankind.
Katie MacLean is a PhD candidate in English Literature
3. Mont Blanc by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1817)
Byron’s close friend Percy Bysshe Shelley was also inspired by the “year without a summer”. He witnessed temperatures drop, volcanic ash hanging heavy in the air and crops failing. While his wife Mary used the gloomy climatic event to inform her novel Frankenstein (1818), Shelley channelled them into his poem Mont Blanc.
A reading of Mont Blanc.
In his ode, Shelley describes a timeless “wall impregnable of beaming ice”. By drawing on his scientific reading, he then explains his fears regarding global cooling and the possibility of vast glaciers eventually covering the alpine valleys.
He imagines “the dwelling-place / Of insects, beasts, and birds” being obliterated and mankind forced to flee. While Shelley saw this process as “destin’d” and inevitable, it is clear that Mont Blanc is a poem with catastrophic climate change at its heart. In 2026, it is difficult to read in any other way.
Amy Wilcockson is a research fellow in Romantic literature
4. Characteristics of Life by Camille T. Dungy (2012)
There’s something gloriously elastic about invertebrates: the spinelessness of a worm, the pulsing of the jellyfish, the curling of an octopus. Spiders, snails and bees, too, with their exoskeletons on display, invite us to see things “inside-out”.
These are the thoughts I have when I read Characteristics of Life by Camille T. Dungy, which opens with a snippet from a BBC news report claiming that “a fifth of animals without backbones could be at risk of extinction”. What would a world be without the “underneathedness” of the snail beneath its shell beneath the terracotta pot in the garden? Or “the impossible hope of the firefly” whose adult lives span only a handful of human weeks?
Camille T. Dungy speaks about nature and poetry.
Dungy speaks from a “time before spinelessness was frowned upon”, and from a world where to dismiss a being as “mindless” (jellyfish have no brains) or even “wordless” would be “missing the point” entirely. As I think of these creatures that dwell beyond our usual line of vision – flying, crawling, tunnelling and swimming – I find my perspective on our beautiful world turning and shifting.
Janine Bradbury is a poet and a senior lecturer in contemporary writing and culture
The speaker’s request of passing her “last years with less anxiety” appears to be denied by a god who first responds by changing her into “a tiny spider / launching into the unknown / on a thread of gossamer” and who, when she begs to “be a bigger / fiercer creature”, turns her into “a polar bear / leaping between / melting ice floes”.
A reading of Prayer at Seventy by Vicki Feaver followed by an explanation by the poet.
Both images present creatures who are in precarious positions, their futures uncertain, reflecting the state of a person contemplating the unknowns of old age and death. But the poem moves beyond the personal. The reference to the melting ice floes is not solely metaphorical: it reminds us that the planet itself is in danger and every living thing is therefore vulnerable – and will be increasingly so.
Walrus, from Jessica Traynor’s 2022 collection Pit Lullabies expresses the quiet anxiety a mother has for her child in the world of climate breakdown.
While stripping wallpaper from the box room of her house, the poet discovers a mural of the Walrus and the Carpenter from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Traynor takes part of Lewis Carroll’s poem about the Walrus and the Carpenter walking along the beach, eating the vulnerable oysters, and weaves it into her own poem.
Jessica Traynor reading poems from her collection Pit Lullabies.
Carroll’s absurd verse includes what, at that time no doubt, seemed like an impossible image of a “boiling hot” sea. In the 21st century, this is no longer an absurdity, as Traynor knows. She makes a connection with Carroll’s poem, imploring her child:
Sleep as the sun rises and ice melts
and for want of the freeze a walrus
pushes further up a cliff-face.
It’s a complex poem that reimagines a key work of children’s literature, connecting it with the reality of the changing world. All the while the mother keeps her fears at bay for the sake of her child, “brows[ing] washing machines” with a “ball of tears” in her throat.
Ellen Howley is an assistant professor of English
7. Ocean Forest, co-created by the We Are the Possible programme
Ocean Forest is woven out of words, research, ideas and stories shared by scientists, educators, health professionals, youth leaders, writers and artists. They took part in creative writing workshops to co-create the anthology Planet Forest – 12 Poems for 12 Days for the UN Climate Conference in Brazil in 2025.
In the shallows, alert to change,
the minuscule, overlooked creatures
weave between seagrass, and weed –
live their shortened lives.
When ships pass overhead, when sands shift,
fish navigate swell, migrate beyond
where coral’s been bleached, through schools
of silenced whales and barely rooted mangroves
struggling to thrive in darkening water.
Deeper down,
pressure builds, species exist, unaware,
undisturbed. As heat and waves rise there’s hope
the unfound, the unnamed, the unpolluted
in the remotest ocean forests will survive.
Through uniting disciplines and voices the poem takes unexpected shifts. It demonstrates that climate change affects and erodes the habitats that lie beneath the surface and that urgent action is needed to protect disappearing species.
Yet, there is also a glimmer of hope – that in the deepest, darkest parts of the ocean, where temperatures are near freezing and there are bone-crushing pressures, maybe there are creatures that will survive human interference and pollution.
Sally Flint is a lecturer in creative writing and programme lead on the We Are the Possible programme
8. Di Baladna (Our Land) by Emi Mahmoud (2021)
Emtithal “Emi” Mahmoud is a Sudanese poet and activist, who has won multiple awards for her slam poetry performances. Mahmoud performed Di Baladna at the United Nations Climate Change Conference in 2021.
Poetry – especially spoken word – helps people connect emotionally with the human side of climate-driven displacement, a topic that’s often explained only through technical language. The language of emissions targets, temperature thresholds, or policy frameworks can distance people emotionally from its consequences. Yet poetry can cut through this abstraction.
Di Baladna (Our Land) read by Emi Mahmoud.
Mahmoud’s performance gave voice to those forced from their homes by environmental collapse, reminding listeners that climate change is not only an environmental crisis but a deeply human one, with profound effects on individuals, families and communities.
By merging vivid natural imagery with the rhythms of displacement and lived testimony, the poem urges listeners to replace passive awareness with empathy. Mahmoud implores us to feel the loss, fear and resilience of displaced communities, looking beyond news headlines and images of victimisation. Engaging with such work helps transform climate refugees from statistics into people.
Clodagh Philippa Guerin is a PhD candidate in refugee world literature
9. Flowers by Jay Bernard (2019)
At first glance, Jay Bernard’s Flowers is circular poem (one that begins and ends in the same place) but you soon realise that the circle isn’t going to complete. It opens:
Will anybody speak of this
the way the flowers do,
the way the common speaks
of the fearless dying leaves?
And closes:
Will anybody speak of this
the fire we beheld
the garlands at the gate
the way the flowers do?
And the answer seems to be, no: no one will speak of these things – the “coming cold” and the “quiet” it will bring – only the things themselves as they die. With the songs Where Have All the Flowers Gone? by Pete Seeger and Blowin’ in the Wind by Bob Dylan in its DNA, Flowers has the eternal power of a folk-lyric – prophetic and unignorable.
Kate McLoughlin is a professor of English literature
10. Place by W.S. Merwin (1987)
Climate change poetry – should it be a thing? How do poets avoid the oracular pomp it threatens? Browsing my small library I’m shocked anew to realise most poets lived and died blissfully innocent of our condition.
OK, what about the late John Burnside’s lyric Weather Report (“this is the weather, today / and the weather to come”). It poignantly extrapolates from a sodden summer to his sons’ futures: “a life they never bargained for / and cannot alter”. Heartbreaking. Or the odd dread of spring in Fiona Benson’s Almond Blossom, a season characterised as Earth’s, “slow incline … inch by ruined inch”. Ditto.
W.S. Merwin reads Place.
But then I reach back to the great American poet W.S. Merwin’s short prayer Place to find that grace-note of hope which surely needs to thread through all poems, whether they speak of climate change, mortality or love: “On the last day of the world / I would want to plant a tree.” Me too.
Steve Waters is a playwright and professor of scriptwriting at the University of East Anglia
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, The Conversation UK may earn a commission.
Amy Wilcockson receives funding from Modern Humanities Research Association as Research Fellow for the Percy Bysshe Shelley Letters project.
Steve Waters receives funding from AHRC
Clodagh Philippa Guerin, Ellen Howley, Jack Reid, Janine Bradbury, Julie Meril Gardner, Kate McLoughlin, Katie MacLean, and Sally Flint 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.
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Toby Matthiesen, Senior Lecturer in Global Religious Studies, University of Bristol
Dubai’s port and airport plus some residential buildings and hotels were struck by Iranian missiles and drones.Maria_Usp / Shutterstock
The United Arab Emirates (UAE) announced on April 28 that it will leave the global oil producers’ cartel Opec. Its decision is the latest sign that the war in the Middle East has not only deepened animosities between Iran and its Gulf neighbours, but among the Gulf states too.
Founded in 1960, Opec is a rare success story among multilateral organisations in the region. Its policies paved the way for Gulf oil producers to have enough funds to buy back or renationalise their oil resources, and finance the spectacular development of their states.
The organisation has survived all major revolutions and wars in the region thus far – though Qatar left in 2019 when it was blockaded by its Gulf neighbours.
Saudi Arabia, the largest oil producer in Opec, holds substantial leverage within the group. This has led to tension with the UAE, which has for some time pushed for higher production quotas for itself, given its spare capacity. These efforts have been to no avail.
However, its decision to leave Opec is about more than merely frustration with the organisation.
Though it was very close to Saudi Arabia in the mid-2010s, the UAE has in recent years drifted apart from its larger neighbour. This has been driven by a number of regional issues including the countries’ diverging strategies in wars in Yemen and Sudan, and their respective relations with Israel.
The two countries have also recently become serious economic competitors. And although both states have been hit hard by Iran in the current war, the conflict seems to have accelerated their rivalry.
Iran responded to US-Israeli attacks in February by launching strikes on countries around the Gulf and blockading the Strait of Hormuz. Peter Hermes Furian / Shutterstock
Saudi Arabia is the largest and richest country in the Gulf. But many of its transformative economic projects require political stability and a high oil price to succeed. The war has exposed the limits of its policy of tentative outreach to Iran, and of its partnership with a US that is so closely allied with Israel. So, the Saudis have strengthened defence ties with nuclear-armed Pakistan.
These deepening ties have been met with dismay in the UAE, which has close ties to India. The Emiratis have been critical of Pakistan during the war, calling on Islamabad to condemn the Iranians more forcefully – something that is not possible due to Pakistan’s role as a mediator in peace negotiations.
At least partly in frustration at its response to the war, the UAE recently demanded that Pakistan repay a US$3.5 billion (£2.6 billion) loan. Saudi Arabia immediately came to the rescue by providing Pakistan with financial support.
The UAE’s announcement to leave Opec coincided with a meeting of the Gulf Cooperation Council in the Saudi Arabian capital Riyadh, where members sought to find common ground on the Iran war. This was a major affront to the Saudis.
Other Gulf frictions
The war has sparked other frictions in the Gulf, including reviving old tensions between the UAE and Iran over three islands – Abu Musa, Greater Tunb and Lesser Tunb – that Iran occupied at the time of Emirati independence from Britain in 1971. These islands strengthen Iran’s strategic position along Gulf shipping lanes.
The UAE has long claimed sovereignty over the islands, while Iran claims they were always part of its territory. Iran’s control of the three islands is thought to be part of a secret deal between Britain and the Shah of Iran around 1970, whereby the shah would renounce a claim Iran maintained to Bahrain in return for the islands.
This and other historic border disputes in the region, including between the UAE, Saudi Arabia and Oman, remain some of the most sensitive topics in modern Gulf history. For a forthcoming book on the rise of the Gulf states, I have tried to access relevant UK Foreign Office documents, but have had numerous freedom-of-information requests denied on closed material dating back to the 1960s and earlier.
Failaka Island off Kuwait’s coast remains partially abandoned due to the heavy damage that was inflicted during the 1990 Iraqi invasion. Sebastian Castelier / Shutterstock
The northern Gulf state of Kuwait has also been hit hard during the conflict. Here, many attacks seem to have come from Shia militias based in Iraq. These attacks have revived traumatic memories of Iran-linked political violence in the 1980s, and Iraq’s invasion in 1990.
States that cannot bypass the closed Strait of Hormuz – such as Bahrain, Kuwait and Qatar – have experienced the most economic damage from the war. To balance its budget, Bahrain is already dependent on aid by wealthier Gulf states. The UAE, Saudi Arabia and Oman, on the other hand, have the geographical means to bypass Hormuz.
Oman, which controls one side of the strait, may well benefit in the long run. This could either be through a new arrangement with Iran to charge vessels a toll, or because its ports on the Arabian Sea will increase in significance – perhaps even resurrecting some of Oman’s former glory, when it was a major regional power. This is not something neighbouring UAE and Saudi Arabia would like to see.
The reckless US-Israeli attack on Iran has thus opened up old faultlines, and could create new ones between states around the Gulf. It is also undermining the few avenues of regional cooperation that remain. This makes a fragmented and dangerous region even more so.
Toby Matthiesen 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.
Actor Sarah Michelle Gellar, best known for her role as teenage demon slayer Buffy Summers, recently shared in an interview that she uses an “EMS suit” during workouts to stay fit. And she’s not the only one who has made this form of exercising a trend – with celebrities from Tom Holland to Cindy Crawford all using EMS workouts to get fit.
EMS, short for electromyostimulation, uses electrical impulses to support muscle contraction. The idea is that the machine uses electricity to stimulate your muscles to work harder, to help you get more out of your workout without lifting heavy weights.
Some companies even claim that a 20-minute EMS session (roughly half an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer), can deliver the same benefits as hours in the gym. For people who are short on time, dislike traditional exercise or want a novel way to stay motivated, this sounds very tempting.
But while EMS does have some evidence-based benefits, particularly in rehabilitation settings, it’s far from a miracle shortcut to getting fit.
In clinical contexts, EMS works by sending small, electrical impulses through pads placed on the skin. Just like with regular workouts, these impulses stimulate nerves, triggering muscles to contract. Physiotherapists have used EMS for decades to help patients recovering from injury or surgery, especially when regular movement is difficult.
It has even been used in spaceflight simulations, in which participants have to lie in a bed tilted slightly downwards for extended periods to replicate the effects of being in space on the body. This can cause muscles to weaken, and research has explored EMS as a countermeasure loss during these conditions, particularly when combined with resistance exercise.
What is new is the rise of “whole body EMS” in the fitness industry. Instead of placing electrodes on a single muscle group, users wear the suit or vest. It contains multiple electrodes targeting the arms, legs, glutes, back and core. During a session, people perform squats, lunges, arm raises and more, while the suit pulses to intensify muscle activation.
In practice, the benefits depend heavily on who you are and how you train.
Does it work?
Research suggests EMS can help maintain strength and muscle mass after five to six weeks of treatment compared with doing a conventional exercise programme. A meta analysis in 2023 supports this, outlining how between one to three whole-body EMS sessions per week for six to 12 weeks can result in modest improvements in muscle mass, strength and power.
Another separate study also reported strength gains after a similar frequency of use in non-athletic, sedentary adults.
For people who are sedentary, or have joint pain, EMS may offer an alternative to stimulating muscles without the stress of exercise.
However, it is not a substitute for the broad, well established, whole-body health benefits of regular exercise, which extend beyond muscles to the cardiovascular and metabolic systems, among others.
This distinction becomes clearer when we look at regular exercisers. A recent study, which examined EMS use in athletes and trained sportspeople, found little to no benefit on performance measures such as jumping, sprinting or agility.
Furthermore, studies examining strength outcomes report inconsistent findings, with results varying widely depending on the EMS protocol used and how it’s combined with conventional training.
Taken together, these findings suggest that for people who are already active, EMS probably won’t provide a meaningful edge as conventional exercise is already very effective. Lifting weights, sprinting or doing bodyweight exercises all produce strong, natural muscle contractions without the need for electrical stimulation.
Should you try it?
Overall, the research on EMS is promising but far from definitive. Many studies are small, short term, or use differing protocols, making comparisons difficult.
Some combine EMS with exercise, while others compare it to doing nothing at all. This makes it challenging to determine whether improvements come from EMS alone, its combination with exercise or because participants are just being more active.
Because EMS can produce strong, involuntary muscle contractions, overuse can also lead to severe muscle soreness or, in rare cases, a condition called rhabdomyolysis. This occurs when muscle tissue breaks down rapidly and releases proteins into the bloodstream, harming the kidneys.
Several cases of rhabdomyolysis have been reported after intense EMS sessions, even after a single workout. For this reason, it is recommended to start slowly, stay hydrated and use EMS under professional supervision.
Cost is another factor. Whole body EMS sessions can be expensive, and purchasing a suit for home use can be even more costly. For many people, that money might be better spent on evidence-based, personal training or structured exercise programmes.
For those that can afford it, EMS should be viewed as a supplement, not a substitute, for regular exercise. The strongest evidence for improving health, fitness and body composition still comes from simple, consistent habits: lifting weights a few times a week, walking more, cycling, swimming, jogging or following a gym programme.
There’s no shortcut around the basics. EMS may add a spark, but it can’t replace the benefits of real exercise.
John Noone 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.
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Rita Fontinha, Associate Professor of International Business and Strategy, Henley Business School, University of Reading
A century ago, the five-day working week helped reshape society. It was introduced at scale by industrial pioneers to address not only worker wellbeing but also economic pressures.
US industrialist Henry Ford was among the first to give workers two full days off per week, 100 years ago this month. Ford suspected that giving workers a “weekend” would increase overall productivity – and he was correct.
Today, as advances in artificial intelligence accelerate and concerns about job security grow, a similar question is emerging. Could reducing working time again help societies adapt to these seismic changes?
The evidence increasingly suggests it can, but not in the simplistic way that is often portrayed. The four-day week is not just a workplace benefit. It is a potential tool to improve wellbeing, support families and rethink how work is distributed in society.
Research across multiple countries, including large-scale pilots in the UK and Portugal, shows that reducing working time can deliver meaningful benefits for both employees and organisations.
In a 2025 study of four-day week adoption, my colleagues and I found improvements in sleep, exercise and quality of working life. There were positive implications for both the mental and physical health of employees.
Our research showed productivity at work can also increase, alongside reductions in absenteeism and staff turnover. And it can be beneficial for an employer’s social image.
However, the most important insight is not about productivity but what happens outside work. After all, time is a social resource, not just an economic one.
When people move to a four-day week, they do not simply rest more. They reallocate time in ways that have broader implications for society.
Across our research, participants said they spend more time with family and friends, engaging in community activities and investing in their physical and mental health by exercising and practising hobbies and self-care activities.
These are not trivial changes. Over time, they contribute to stronger social ties, better mental health and more resilient communities.
There are also important gender implications. Early findings suggest that reduced working time can lead to fathers being more involved in caring for their children and other domestic responsibilities. While this does not automatically solve gender inequality, it creates conditions that make more equal divisions of labour possible.
In this sense, the four-day week is not just about work. It is about how societies organise care, relationships and everyday life.
The challenge in service sectors
Critics of a four-day week often point out that it is harder to implement in service sectors such as healthcare, childcare, manufacturing, hospitality or retail. This is true, but it is not a reason to dismiss the idea.
In these sectors, work is tied to time, presence and staffing levels. Reducing working hours often requires more complex redesign, including changes to rotas, additional hiring or upfront investment. Colleagues and I have highlighted this when addressing the UK case of the NHS.
But these challenges should be seen as design problems, not impossibilities. In fact, the potential benefits to society may be even greater in these sectors. Improved wellbeing and reduced burnout among healthcare staff and care workers can translate into better quality of service and fewer mistakes.
Reduced working hours for healthcare staff could lead to fewer clinical mistakes. Iryna Inshyna/Shutterstock
A more important concern is inequality. If working time reductions are adopted unevenly, there is a risk that some workers will be excluded – often those in lower-paid or frontline roles. This is a valid concern, but not an argument against the four-day week. Rather, it is an argument for implementing it more thoughtfully.
Instead of asking whether all jobs can adopt the same model, the focus should be on how different forms of reduced work time can be adapted across sectors. This could include shorter daily hours, staggered schedules or phased time reductions.
The future of work
The renewed interest in reducing the amount of time we spend working is not happening in isolation. It is closely linked to broader debates about automation, productivity and the future of work.
If technological advances continue to increase productivity, a fundamental question arises: who benefits from these gains?
Historically – during the Great Depression, for example – working time reductions have been one way of redistributing those benefits. Compared with more radical proposals such as universal basic income, the four-day week offers a more direct and socially embedded way of sharing gains in productivity.
The four-day week is not a universal solution, and it will not look the same everywhere. But the evidence shows working less can go hand-in-hand with maintaining productivity.
It can also support a shift towards a society where time is valued not only as an economic input, but as a foundation for wellbeing, relationships and participation in community life.
A century after the five-day week helped define modern work, there may be another turning point on the horizon. This time, the real question is not whether we can afford to reduce working time, but whether we can afford not to.
Rita Fontinha’s employer, the University of Reading, has received funding from the Portuguese Government and the Azores Regional Government to conduct academic research on four-day working week pilots.
