Category: The Conversation – UK

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Yaz Iyabo Osho, Director of Academic Professional Development, University of Westminster

Black women are underrepresented in senior roles in British academia. As of May 2024, there were only 70 Black women professors.

This is less than 1% of all female professors in the UK. Black women are also more likely to be employed on fixed-term contracts in academia.

In our research, we’ve reviewed academic studies on the experiences of Black women in UK universities to identify some of the key reasons for this under-representation.

Promotion to the role of professor typically requires evidence of sustained academic excellence. This includes high-quality research, winning grant funding and publication in high-impact journals. It also requires supervising PhD students and a record of disciplinary or institutional leadership.

Many Black women academics in the UK work in newer, less research-intensive institutions where teaching and student support loads are comparatively higher. This can limit time for research and publishing.

What’s more, these opportunities for promotion are unevenly distributed. Black women are more often overburdened with pastoral care, teaching and equality, diversity and inclusion work. This is labour that’s important to the university, but undervalued in promotion criteria.

Invisible labour

Evidence suggests that Black women scholars in academia experience gendered and anti-Black racism. This can severely affect their work environments, career progression and wellbeing in academic institutional spaces.

They have to grapple with the exhausting task of proving they belong in universities that are not built with them in mind. This sense of not belonging is reinforced by structural and symbolic signals. Hallways are adorned with portraits of white male scholars, reading lists dominated by western scholarship and disciplinary norms rooted in Eurocentric assumptions.

Addressing this question of belonging often means taking a lead on work to make these spaces more equitable. Black women may find themselves supporting Black and racially minoritised students who may feel more able to connect with them than other academics.

They may carry out extra work that their colleagues don’t. This includes promoting equality, diversity and inclusion initiatives and building support networks, while trying to meet the same research and scholarship demands as others.

Black women are often both highly visible and yet largely invisible in academia. They’re visible as they are one of a few standing out for their ethnicity – becoming symbols of diversity.

Yet their scholarship is frequently under-recognised or overlooked. At the same time, the additional labour they undertake often goes unseen and they are less like to have senior sponsorship than their peers.

The burden of being under scrutiny and engaging in emotional labour often weighs heavily on Black women. Black women also have to navigate sometimes hostile environments. This can take subtle forms, such as being excluded in meetings and being treated as less credible than non-Black colleagues.

Making connections

Despite the challenges faced by some Black women academics, there are independent networks outside of universities set up by Black academics that are dedicated to supporting women from racial minorities.

One of us (Yaz Iyabo Osho) founded Global Ethnic Majority Women in Academia. Others include the Black Female Academic Network and the Sisters in Higher Education Network. These networks collectively offer peer support and advocacy. They also run conferences, events and opportunities for development for Black women scholars.

These networks also offer vital forums for communication and collaboration. This is important for Black women academics when they encounter difficulties within their own institutions. Informal networks can also help foster social capital and peer support. This can be the difference between leaving a career in academia and staying put.

Collaborative spaces, peer networks and co-mentorship can build both professional capital and emotional resilience. These are not just discussion spaces outside of the university, but places for knowledge production, community building, and collective resistance.

Action from universities must take the intersecting oppressions Black women face seriously. Generic policies on equality, diversity and inclusion fail to account for how racism, sexism, ageism, and classism intersect in academic life.

Requiring Black women academics to do the emotional, pastoral and institutional labour of improving their own inclusion – at the expense of their career – is not true inclusion. Structural change and collective accountability is required.

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. Visible for diversity, invisible in research: the burdens Black female academics face in universities – https://theconversation.com/visible-for-diversity-invisible-in-research-the-burdens-black-female-academics-face-in-universities-260975

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Roman Birke, Assistant Professor in Modern European History, Dublin City University

The new US national security strategy marks a significant historical turn. It shifts the focus from global overpopulation to anxieties around population decline in the western world. Coupled with renewed criticism of Europe’s military weaknesses, the strategy updates longstanding anti-European narratives.

US-European relations have so profoundly influenced the course of the 20th and 21st centuries that New York University historian Mary Nolan refers to this era as the “transatlantic century”. The relationship revolved around military interventions and consumer cultures.

American involvement was decisive in both world wars and in the European wars following the breakup of Yugoslavia. Europe also emerged as a crucial area for the expansion of American consumerism and market norms.

On both sides of the Atlantic, the interplay between military interventions and market cultures shaped not only cooperation but also mutual resentment. In Europe, as early as 1902, people were beginning to express anti-American sentiments which were often centred on fears of cultural domination.

Later, British bands such as the Clash and the German band Rammstein amplified these perceptions in popular culture, with songs such as I’m So Bored with the U.S.A. (the Clash) and Amerika (Rammstein).

In turn, anti-European ideas in the US centred on perceived European military weakness – a critique with some historical evidence to support it. The lend-lease agreements supplied the UK and the Soviet Union with desperately needed military aid. Without it, neither country would have been able to sustain their war efforts against the Nazi advance in Europe.

After the cold war, Americans expected Europeans to assume a greater share of global security responsibilities. But, in two major cases, Europe fell short of these expectations.

During the internationally coordinated intervention against Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait in 1991, the US contributed more than half a million troops. The UK, France, and Italy together only contributed 93,000.

Germany supported the military campaign only financially. This imbalance prompted US commentator Charles Krauthammer to label the US “the lonely superpower”.

At the end of the 1990s, the Nato-led bombing campaign against Serbia was likewise carried largely by the US. US aircraft conducted 70% of strike missions and 90% of defence missions. Without American intelligence support, meanwhile, the campaign would have faltered.

As one leading German diplomat admitted: “Kosovo was two or three sizes too big for us.”

The Iraq war in 2003 reinforced US perceptions of European weakness. Countries like Germany and France did not support the war and, in the language of the hawkish American right, these countries were cast as emasculated and mocked as “Euroweenies” and “EU-nuchs”.

US defence secretary Donald Rumsfeld, a leading advocate of the war, was celebrated as a hyper-masculine “stud”.

It is a striking twist that today’s “America first” conservatives embrace the critique of the Iraq intervention that had been aired in Europe. It is, they say, not their war. But Europe’s continued dependence on the US, particularly in its support to Ukraine, appears to confirm perceptions of military weakness.

Population enters the debate

Anti-European sentiments related to military interventions have a long history. Now, concerns about Europe’s native population decline represent a new element of the US national security strategy.

In modern history, population trends have consistently generated anxiety. They ranged from Malthusian fears of food shortages in the late 18th century to 20th-century worries about global overpopulation.

As I show in my own research, Europe and American thinkers were key in shaping this debate. Advocates of population control on both sides of the Atlantic coordinated campaigns to reduce global fertility rates, particularly in developing countries.

Overpopulation arguments still simmer. But it has recently been overshadowed by a major shift towards concerns about population decline.

Elon Musk has become the American embodiment of this trend. Not only did he father many children but turned demographic decline into a political cause. He has argued that a “collapsing birth rate is the biggest danger civilization faces by far”.

In Europe, this position is embraced by populist anti-immigration parties. Their resentments resonate because they tap into real demographic trends.

Between 1990 and 2020, central and eastern Europe’s population fell by 8%. The sharpest declines were experienced by some of the poorest countries, among them, Bulgaria – where population fell by 24% – and Romania – where it fell by 17%.

Populist rightwing parties in the US and in Europe advocate boosting native birth rates. They present this as an alternative to a perceived western European model that relies on immigration to sustain welfare states.

In their 2020 study for the Journal of Democracy, sociologist Ivan Krastev and legal expert Stephen Holmes note that the “preoccupation with demographic collapse … manifests as a fear that the arrival of unassimilable foreigners will dilute national identities and weaken national cohesion”.

The speeches of leading rightwing populists, including Hungary’s prime minister, Victor Orban, and Serbia’s president, Aleksandar Vučić, vividly illustrate this worldview. Orban insists that, contrary to western Europe, “we Hungarians have a different way of thinking. Instead of just numbers, we want Hungarian children. Migration for us is surrender.”

Vučić similarly warns that without a demographic turnaround, Serbians “will stand small chances to speak about our own survival in the territory of the rest of Serbia”. Comparable sentiments are echoed by western European anti-immigration parties, including Germany’s AfD or France’s Rassemblement National and became a major feature of Trump’s presidency.

Overall, the new US national security strategy marks the culmination of a wider realignment in which the conservative right on both sides of the Atlantic has rallied around demographic decline as a central political concern.

This perceived decline now constitutes a central pillar of US national security thinking. For Europe, meanwhile, Washington’s attempts to bolster European rightwing parties may themselves become a source of instability and polarisation in the years to come.

Roman Birke 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. America’s anti-European attitudes are centred on perceptions of military weakness and the decline of native populations – https://theconversation.com/americas-anti-european-attitudes-are-centred-on-perceptions-of-military-weakness-and-the-decline-of-native-populations-271800

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Mark Chadwick, Lecturer in Law, Nottingham Trent University

“We’ve just seized a tanker on the coast of Venezuela – a large tanker, very large, the largest one ever seized actually,” said Donald Trump on December 10. In a dramatic operation, US forces had just taken over an oil tanker called Skipper, which was sanctioned by the US in 2022 while sailing under a different name. “I assume we’re going to keep the oil,” the US president added later.

Venezuela has been under US-imposed sanctions since 2019, when Trump was first in the White House. And recent months have seen US forces target several vessels in the Caribbean, predominantly off the coasts of Venezuela and Colombia, each alleged to be trafficking drugs from the region. These strikes have killed more than 80 people so far.

The seizure of the Skipper marks the latest episode in the increasingly hostile relationship between Trump and Venezuela’s president, Nicolás Maduro. But what does international law have to say about the seizure?

Offering an official legal justification, US attorney-general Pam Bondi stated that US forces acted in execution of “a seizure warrant for a crude oil tanker used to transport sanctioned oil from Venezuela and Iran”. She added that the tanker had been sanctioned for many years “due to its involvement in an illicit oil shipping network supporting foreign terrorist organisations”.

The exact position of the seizure is not clear. Some accounts say it was seized “on the coast of Venezuela”, while others suggest the operation took place “in international waters”.

Assuming the seizure took place either in Venezuelan coastal waters or on the high seas, the international legal regime is governed by the 1982 UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (Unclos). The US is not a party to the convention, though it accepts the content as binding.

As a starting point, Unclos confers exclusive jurisdiction to the “flag state”. The Skipper appears to have been flying the flag of Guyana, which borders Venezuela, though Guyanese authorities were quick to attest that the ship was not registered there.

No other state is permitted to board or to enforce jurisdiction unless the seizure takes place in the seizing state’s coastal waters or the situation falls within a specific exception set out within Article 110 of the convention.

Such exceptions apply where there are reasonable grounds for suspecting that the ship is engaged in piracy, the slave trade or, in certain circumstances, unauthorised broadcasting. Exceptions also apply when the ship is without nationality or when the ship is, in reality, of the same nationality as the seizing warship.

Thus, it appears that Bondi’s claim that the Skipper was seized in accordance with domestically imposed sanctions has no standing in international law.

The International Tribunal on the Law of the Sea is also clear that states cannot unilaterally and arbitrarily board and enforce domestic law against foreign-flagged ships outside their own coastal waters unless Unclos provides an exception for doing so. Claims of suppressing criminality or terrorism would not, of themselves, suffice – certainly in relation to seizures on the high seas.

However, the fact that the ship’s registration in Guyana has come under question does open up a possible legal avenue for the seizure. This is because Unclos permits boarding in circumstances where a ship “is without nationality”.

In such circumstances, international law treats ships as “stateless vessels” and as outside the protection of any country. This is a claim that the US advanced in 1982 when seizing a stateless vessel off the eastern US coast controlled by suspected drug traffickers.

Researchers are divided, though, on whether there is a general right to retain the proceeds of such seizures under international law. And notwithstanding the doubts over the Skipper’s registration, this is not the legal approach that the US has sought to rely on.

A further, and perhaps more consequential, question remains: whether the seizure of the Skipper could be characterised as an act of war on the part of the US. International law is concerned with the objective existence of armed conflict rather than declarations of war and, in theory, an instance of “invasion or attack by the armed forces of a state on the territory of another state” would qualify. This could, potentially, include the seizure of another state’s vessel.

Relatively small-scale engagements, however, are not thought to qualify as “armed conflict”. For instance, France’s sinking of a UK-flagged ship called Rainbow Warrior in Auckland, New Zealand, in 1985 is not generally considered to have created a situation of “armed conflict”. Similarly, the Israeli raid on the Comoros-flagged Mavi Marmara in 2010 is not considered to have created a situation of armed conflict between those states.

Other approaches to establishing the existence of armed conflict look at levels of intensity or the organisation of any fighting between militaries. Though, at least for now, the threshold is unlikely to be met with regards to Venezuela and the US. The apparently stateless nature of the Skipper also creates a technical barrier to establishing a situation of “invasion” and, in turn, “armed conflict”.

One last question remains: whether Venezuelan officials were right to characterise the US military as “pirates, high seas criminals, [and] buccaneers”. It’s a tempting comparison to make, certainly, with the tendency to brand waterborne foes as “pirates”, an age-old rhetorical device that dates at least as far back as Roman orator Cicero, writing in the first century BC.

However, it is erroneous to apply the label to state or state-sponsored acts, with Article 101 of Unclos being clear that piracy can only be committed by private actors operating from private vessels. Whatever other legal issues the seizure might raise, being characterised as piracy is not one of them.

Mark Chadwick has previously received funding from the Arts & Humanities Research Council

– ref. What does international law tell us about the US seizure of an oil tanker off the coast of Venezuela? – https://theconversation.com/what-does-international-law-tell-us-about-the-us-seizure-of-an-oil-tanker-off-the-coast-of-venezuela-271859

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Andy Levy, Reader in Psychology, Edge Hill University

Vaping among teenagers is a growing global health problem.

In the UK, schools are reporting a surge in young people struggling with dependence, including cases of students needing medical attention after vaping in class. In the Netherlands, researchers have found that many teenagers wake up at night specifically to vape, a sign of growing nicotine addiction in adolescents.

And in New Zealand, a widely shared image of a teenager’s blackened, shrivelled lung after three years of vaping renewed fears about the speed at which harm can develop.

These stories show how far vaping has drifted from its original purpose. Once introduced as a safer alternative to cigarettes, it is now embedded in youth culture, driven as much by social influence as by nicotine itself.

E-cigarettes have now become a lifestyle accessory: sleek, flavoured and often perceived as harmless. But behind the clouds of “strawberry ice” and “blueberry burst” vapour lies a powerful lesson in how misinformation shapes behaviour, based less on chemistry than on psychology.

Understanding why vaping feels safe, appealing and difficult to quit requires looking not only at the device but at how our minds process risk, reward and social cues.

Psychology shows that people rarely process health information in nuanced ways. Faced with complex or uncertain evidence, including emerging research on vaping, our brains reduce it to simple categories, such as safe or unsafe.

This mental shortcut helps us make quick decisions without examining every detail. When people hear that vaping is less harmful than cigarettes, many take it to mean harmless, because judging relative risk feels complicated. Brightly coloured devices, sweet flavours and wellness-focused marketing reinforce the perception that vaping is good or safe, even without long-term evidence.

This simplification helps explain why misinformation spreads easily. Once a behaviour is mentally categorised as safe or desirable, people are less likely to question it or seek contradicting evidence. Our natural tendency to think in binaries leaves complex health messages open to distortion, strengthening the influence of marketing and social cues.

Social influence then amplifies the effect. When friends, peers and influencers post vaping content online, the behaviour becomes not just visible but celebrated, making it feel socially normal and desirable. Social proof encourages experimentation and reinforces the idea that quitting would mean losing belonging, identity or enjoyment.

Social media platforms magnify these cues, circulating anecdotes, trends and endorsements. The result is 1 million people in England vaping despite never having smoked regularly, under the illusion of safety.

Vaping took off not only because people were misinformed, but because their brains had reasons to keep believing it was safe. Loss aversion, the tendency to feel losses more intensely than gains, explains part of this.

When vaping seems harmless, the perceived losses of quitting, such as stress relief, enjoyable flavours, social connection and identity, feel immediate and real, while the long-term risks seem distant or unlikely. People hold on to vaping not just because they underestimate the dangers, but because stopping feels like giving up something valuable.

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Together, these forces create a self-reinforcing cycle. Binary thinking simplifies risk, social proof builds desirability and loss aversion makes quitting feel costly. Misinformation does not just mislead. It reshapes how people think, turning a harm-reduction tool into a socially embedded, hard-to-quit habit.

The rise of vaping reveals a deeper issue in how health information spreads. In the digital age, public understanding changes faster than scientific consensus. Online trends and anecdotes often outrun the slow, careful process of research, and young people are particularly susceptible.

Once misinformation takes hold, it is difficult to reverse. One in ten UK secondary school pupils currently vape, even though the NHS warns that long-term effects remain uncertain.

If misinformation helped drive the vaping boom by exaggerating its benefits, reversing the trend requires changing what people believe they stand to gain. Improving media literacy is a start, helping people spot when relatable content is actually advertising, when trends are engineered or when claims are overstated.

Public health messages also need to meet people where they are, using short, engaging content that feels native to social media. When influencers and peers highlight the real costs of vaping, such as money, energy and lung capacity, and expose the marketing behind its appeal, perceptions can shift. This taps into loss aversion by making continued vaping feel like the bigger loss.

Combining media literacy with relatable, well-targeted content can change vaping perceptions, make psychological biases work in favour of health and help people resist misleading narratives.

Ultimately, addressing the vaping boom requires understanding the minds and social environments of those caught up in it, not just the science behind the device.

Andy Levy 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 misinformation may be fuelling teen vaping – https://theconversation.com/how-misinformation-may-be-fuelling-teen-vaping-269476

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Gemma Ware, Host, The Conversation Weekly Podcast, The Conversation

Oecusse, a rugged, remote district of Timor-Leste in south-east Asia, is usually a pretty sleepy place. It’s located on the western side of Timor island, part of Indonesia, and is isolated geographically from the rest of Timor-Leste, which has governed the eastern side of the island since 2002.

But in August, Oecusse was rocked by a large police raid on a suspected scam centre, later linked by a UN report to organised crime networks running scamming operations across south-east Asia. Dozens of foreign nationals were arrested.

All this came at a bad time for Timor-Leste, shortly before its admission into the Association of South East Asian Nations (ASEAN) in October.

And then in early September, a Facebook post by one of Timor-Leste’s highest political officials made some explosive allegations about a  murky criminal underworld trying to get a foothold in the country.

In this episode of The Conversation Weekly podcast, we speak to Michael Rose, an anthropologist and adjunct lecturer at the University of Adelaide who has lived and worked in Timor-Leste, about how Asia’s scamming gangs set their sights on Timor-Leste as their next frontier – and the movement to keep them out.

Listen to the interview with Michael Rose on The Conversation Weekly podcast, and read the article he wrote for The Conversation about the issue.

This episode of The Conversation Weekly was written and produced by Katie Flood and Gemma Ware, with production assistance from Mend Mariwany. Mixing by Michelle Macklem and theme music by Neeta Sarl. Gemma Ware is the executive producer.

Newsclips in this episode from Australia News 7, CNN and ABC News Australia.

Listen to The Conversation Weekly via any of the apps listed above, download it directly via our RSS feedor find out how else to listen here. A transcript of this episode is available via the Apple Podcasts or Spotify apps.

Michael Rose 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. Asia’s scamming gangs target Timor-Leste as their next frontier – but they may have misjudged the small island nation – https://theconversation.com/asias-scamming-gangs-target-timor-leste-as-their-next-frontier-but-they-may-have-misjudged-the-small-island-nation-271776

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Stefan Wolff, Professor of International Security, University of Birmingham

Since Donald Trump’s return to the White House in January, many European observers have been in a state of wilful denial. They have been hopeful that Trump 2.0 would be largely the same as his first administration where the rhetoric was worse than the reality.

Their approach has been based on the assumption that a mixture of calculated deference, avoidance of a full-on trade war and increased commitments to Nato defence spending would keep Washington engaged in the defence of Ukraine against Russia’s invasion. And, crucially, it would preserve the American nuclear umbrella that has protected Europe since the end of the second world war.

But the US national security strategy for 2025, published on December 4, has blown those assumptions out of the water and forced America’s allies, particularly those in Europe, to confront a harsh new reality. Not only can they not count on the United States to be in their corner when the chips are down. They will have to allow for US indifference – even outright hostility – for the foreseeable future.

Since he came to power in January vowing to end the war in Ukraine “in 24 hours”, the US president’s frequent pivots between Russia on the one hand and the status quo US policy towards Ukraine and its European allies on the other delayed the inevitable insight in major European capitals that Trump’s national security strategy provides. Now it’s clear: the transatlantic alliance that was the cornerstone of European security and underpinned the liberal international order has ceased to exist.

What has been revealed is a narrow view of American commercial interests. It’s a parochial 19th-century focus on the western hemisphere which avoids any recognition of the threat posed by Russia. The US under Trump has abdicated American leadership and rejects the idea of standing up to geopolitical challenges unless they are in America’s backyard or threaten US commercial interests.

Washington has turned its back on a longstanding alignment with its democratic allies in Europe and elsewhere. Rooted in the enlightenment tradition, this anchored the US and its erstwhile allies firmly in the rule of law in domestic and international affairs.

The ethno-nationalist, white supremacist and evangelical ideology of Trumpism articulated in the national security strategy only stands in sharp contrast to this past consensus and actively seeks to undermine it when it comes to Europe. The threat to European security is therefore not merely one emanating from the rupture of the transatlantic alliance. It also has the potential to accelerate further fragmentation inside Europe.

Trump’s comments in a recent interview with Politico that he would continue to back like-minded candidates leaves little doubt about the intentions of the Trump administration to interfere in European elections in favour of populist candidates that supposedly share Trumpist worldviews.

Wrecking ball

The Ukraine war is a perfect illustration of the volatility of US foreign policy under Trump. The US president has pursued an amateurish and egocentric negotiation process peppered with threats to walk away from the most severe challenge to international security in a generation.

Far from aiming to ensure security and the rule of law, Trump’s approach has clearly been driven by a desire for a plan that will enable the resumption of commercial relations with Russia and, he clearly hopes, involve some lucrative business deals – such as a possible revival of plans for a Trump tower in Moscow, something that was reportedly discussed by the Kremlin earlier this year as a way of cementing relations between the two countries.

Trump and his team fail to appreciate that the war in Ukraine is not simply an inconvenience. It is a profound long-term challenge to US interests. If Russia wins in Ukraine – on the battlefield or through a US-imposed peace deal – the Kremlin will have the opportunity to regroup and rearm. This would mean the continuation of an already intensifying hybrid war against Europe.

More likely than not, it would also embolden Putin to turn his sights on other parts of the former Soviet empire, for example by redoubling his efforts to destabilise Moldova.

Coalition of the willing

Trump has now openly turned against America’s erstwhile allies. The pretence that the US still backstops Nato’s security guarantee has become a fiction that, since the release of the national security strategy, is harder to maintain.

This leaves Europe in a difficult place. Both Nato and the EU struggle to speak with a single voice on existential issues. Governments in key European states – France, Germany, Italy and the UK, among others – are under pressure on multiple fronts. They are struggling to manage domestic crises from immigration to welfare reform at a time of rising populism. The bitter conflict in Ukraine, right on the doorsteps of Nato and the EU, adds considerably to this burden.

Efforts undertaken so far to strengthen Europe’s military and strategic autonomy can only go so far and so fast if they continue to depend on unanimity among member states. Finding the smallest common denominator to avoid dissenting states using their veto power often delays or waters down key decisions. This approach is unfit to deal simultaneously with a crisis of the current magnitude and the deliberate paralysis of the institutions that Trump and his allies are promoting.

A new “coalition of the willing” has gradually emerged from what might soon be the ruins of the European and transatlantic projects. If Nato founders, which is not now inconceivable, it may be Europe’s best hope of surviving in a world where it is no longer one of, or aligned with, the dominant great powers of the day. But for that to become a reality, the coalition of the willing needs to become a coalition of the able. And this is a test it has yet to pass.

Stefan Wolff is a past recipient of grant funding from the Natural Environment Research Council of the UK, the United States Institute of Peace, the Economic and Social Research Council of the UK, the British Academy, the NATO Science for Peace Programme, the EU Framework Programmes 6 and 7 and Horizon 2020, as well as the EU’s Jean Monnet Programme. He is a Trustee and Honorary Treasurer of the Political Studies Association of the UK and a Senior Research Fellow at the Foreign Policy Centre in London.

David Hastings Dunn has previously received funding from the ESRC, the Gerda Henkel Foundation, the Open Democracy Foundation and has previously been both a NATO and a Fulbright Fellow.

– ref. Donald Trump’s national security strategy puts America first and leaves its allies to fend for themselves – https://theconversation.com/donald-trumps-national-security-strategy-puts-america-first-and-leaves-its-allies-to-fend-for-themselves-271686

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Jolanta Burke, Associate Professor, Centre for Positive Health Sciences, RCSI University of Medicine and Health Sciences

Dick Van Dyke, the legendary American actor and comedian who starred in classics such as Mary Poppins and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, turns 100 on December 13. The beloved actor credits his remarkable longevity to his positive outlook and never getting angry.

While longevity of course comes down to many factors – including genetics and lifestyle – there is some truth to Van Dyke’s claims. Numerous studies have shown that keeping stress levels low and maintaining a positive, optimistic outlook are correlated with longevity.

For instance, in the early 1930s researchers asked a group of 678 novice nuns – most of whom were around 22 years of age – to write an autobiography when they joined a convent.

Six decades later, researchers analysed their works. They also compared their analyses with the women’s long-term health outcomes.

The researchers found that women who expressed more positive emotion early in life (such as saying they felt grateful, instead of resentful) lived an average of ten years longer than those whose writing tended to be more negative.

A UK study also found that people who were more optimistic lived between 11% and 15% longer than their pessimistic counterparts.

And, in 2022, a study which looked at around 160,000 women from a range of ethnic backgrounds found that those who reported being more optimistic were more likely to live into their 90s compared to pessimists.

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Do optimists really live longer? Here’s what the research says

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One potential explanation for these outcomes is related to the effects anger has on our heart.

People who tend to have a more positive or optimistic outlook on life appear to be better at managing or controlling their anger. This is important, as anger can have a number of significant effects on the body.

Anger triggers the release of adrenaline and cortisol, the body’s primary stress hormones – particularly in men. Even brief angry outbursts can lead to a decline in cardiovascular health.

The added strain that chronic stress and anger put on the cardiovascular system has been linked to increased risk of developing conditions such as heart disease, stroke and type 2 diabetes. These diseases account for roughly 75% of early deaths. While stress and anger aren’t the only causes of these diseases, they contribute to them significantly.

So when Dick Van Dyke says he doesn’t get angry, it may well be one of the reasons for his longevity.

There’s also a deeper, cellular explanation behind stress’s influence on longevity, which relates to our telomeres. These are protective caps found on the ends of our chromosomes (the packages of DNA information found in our cells).

In young, healthy cells, telomeres remain long and sturdy. But as we age, telomeres gradually shorten and fray. Once they become too worn, cells struggle to divide and repair themselves. This is one reason ageing accelerates over time.

Stress has been linked to faster telomere shortening, which makes it harder for cells to communicate and renew. In other words, stress-inducing emotions such as uncontrolled anger may speed up the ageing process.

One study also found that meditation, which can help reduce stress, is positively associated with telomere length. So better anger management might just help support a longer life.

Added to this is the fact optimists appear to be more likely to engage in healthy habits, such as regular exercise or healthy eating, which can further support health and longevity by lowering risk of cardiovascular disease. Even Dick Van Dyke himself still tries to exercise at least three times a week.

Improving longevity

If you want to live as long as Dick Van Dyke, there are things you can do to manage your stress and anger levels.

Contrary to popular belief, trying to “let out” anger by punching a bag, shouting into a pillow or running until the feeling passes doesn’t actually help. These actions keep the body in a heightened state which impacts the cardiovascular system and can prolong the stress response.

A calmer approach works better. Slowing down your breath, counting them or using other relaxation techniques (such as yoga) can help calm the cardiovascular system rather than overstimulate it. Over time, this reduces strain on the heart, which can help you live longer. It’s important you aim to do this anytime you’re feeling particularly stressed or angry.

You can also boost positive emotions by trying to be more present in your daily life. By staying present, you become more aware of what’s happening around you and within you.

For instance, if you’re planning to go out for dinner with your partner, try to be more intentional in how you go about it. This could include booking a restaurant you both truly like, or asking to eat in a quieter spot in the restaurant so you have more time to catch up. Slow down and try to pay attention to the moment, taking in all the senses you’re experiencing as much as you can.

You can also boost positive emotions by making time for play. For adults, play means doing something simply because it’s enjoyable – not because it has any specific purpose. Play will give you a boost of positive emotions, which may in turn benefit your health.

Dick Van Dyke’s advice may be correct. While we can’t control everything that has an impact on our health, learning to manage anger and make room for a more positive outlook in life can help support both wellbeing and longevity.

Jolanta Burke 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. Dick Van Dyke credits his longevity to his positive outlook – and research says optimists live longer – https://theconversation.com/dick-van-dyke-credits-his-longevity-to-his-positive-outlook-and-research-says-optimists-live-longer-271320

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Lisa Slominski, PhD with the Department of Historical and Critical Studies, Kingston University

The 2025 Turner prize has been won by Nnena Kalu. It’s a historic win and a groundbreaking moment in the prestigious prize’s history.

Kalu is the first learning-disabled artist, the first artist with limited verbal communication, and the first artist whose practice is facilitated through a specialised studio (ActionSpace, established to support artists with learning disabilities) to win the prize. Her win is both extraordinary and overdue – a pivotal moment for inclusivity in British art and for the visibility of learning-disabled artists.

Kalu’s practice is defined by repetition, rhythm, and layering. She builds sculptural forms by tightly wrapping materials into pulsing, tactile structures, and her drawings accumulate depth through swirling, vortex-like motions.

After more than two decades of working, her recognition has accelerated. There have been acquisitions by Tate and the Arts Council Collection. She secured representation with gallerist Arcadia Missa.

She also presented to wide acclaim at Barcelona’s Manifesta 15 gallery in 2024 and Liverpool’s Walker Art Gallery in 2024 to 2025. These accomplishments have all contributed towards her Turner prize win.

I first met Kalu in 2018 when I curated her work in a group exhibition in North London. I worked with her longtime ActionSpace facilitator, Charlotte Hollinshead who helped Kalu to develop her individual arts practice and deliver an extensive range of commissions, projects, events and exhibitions.

Learning of Kalu’s interest in responding to existing architecture, we set aside a structural pillar in the gallery. When they arrived on site, Kalu began wrapping it with tape, film and string. I watched as the form accumulated colour, tension and movement. I was completely hooked.

Over the years, I continued to curate her work – including her first American exhibition in 2020 – and wrote about her practice in my book Nonconformers: A New History of Self-Taught Artists. As I spent more time with her, one question began to preoccupy me: how should curators address Kalu’s position as a learning-disabled artist when she cannot narrate her practice or its relationship to her identity in conventional communication terms?

This question has since become the centre of my PhD research at Kingston University. I now work closely with Kalu and ActionSpace to explore new, more expansive forms of curatorial and interpretive practice – including approaches that acknowledge facilitation, and support structures without diminishing artistic agency.

Kalu’s nomination in April unexpectedly became a critical case study for my research. Watching how the prize, its partners, and the media represented her offered a rare and highly visible window into how institutions handle practices that do not fit standard models of authorship or communication.

Some of the most promising work came from Tate’s Body in Rhythm, Line in Motion film – a short artist video that accompanies each Turner nominee. What stood out was how clearly and transparently it acknowledged the supportive ecosystem around Kalu.

Named contributors spoke from their specific positions – facilitators, curators, and long-time supporters – describing what they observe in her process rather than speculating about intention. The video foregrounded the sounds of her making, the rhythm of her gestures, and the material build-up of the work as legitimate ways of understanding her practice.

If the Tate film offered examples of progress, excerpts of wider media responses revealed how much work remains. Some commentary simply misunderstood the context. A high-profile columnist dismissed the shortlist as “the soppiest ever” and described Kalu’s work as “academic” – an odd accusation for an artist who works entirely through processes developed instinctively at ActionSpace, which were not informed by an art historical discourse.

More troubling were moments when journalists framed Kalu’s disability as a reason to lower artistic expectations. One critic, speaking on BBC Front Row, remarked: “As an art critic, I found it very disappointing; as a human being, I feel I have to support it.”

This kind of response strips learning-disabled artists of agency. It assumes they cannot be both disabled and ambitious, disabled and professional, disabled and excellent. It conflates access with charity, facilitation with compromise, and disability with lack.

Kalu’s career, and now her Turner Prize success, demonstrate precisely the opposite.

Her win is an extraordinary milestone, but it is not an endpoint. The structures surrounding learning-disabled artists remain precarious. Supported studios like ActionSpace are essential cultural infrastructures, yet they operate with limited resources. Curators and institutions are still learning how to communicate about practices that do not fit familiar narratives of artistic intention or authorship.

The Turner Prize has cracked something open. It has made visible what many of us working in this field have long argued: that excellence emerges in many forms, that facilitation can be a creative engine rather than an obstacle, and that disabled artists are central, not peripheral, to contemporary art.

What comes next, how we talk about this win, how institutions respond, and which structures are resourced, will determine whether this moment becomes symbolic or genuinely transformative.

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.

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Lisa Slominski 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. Nnena Kalu has won the 2025 Turner prize – working with her has inspired my work and academic research – https://theconversation.com/nnena-kalu-has-won-the-2025-turner-prize-working-with-her-has-inspired-my-work-and-academic-research-271802

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Andy Levy, Reader in Psychology, Edge Hill University

Vaping among teenagers is a growing global health problem.

In the UK, schools are reporting a surge in young people struggling with dependence, including cases of students needing medical attention after vaping in class. In the Netherlands, researchers have found that many teenagers wake up at night specifically to vape, a sign of growing nicotine addiction in adolescents.

And in New Zealand, a widely shared image of a teenager’s blackened, shrivelled lung after three years of vaping renewed fears about the speed at which harm can develop.

These stories show how far vaping has drifted from its original purpose. Once introduced as a safer alternative to cigarettes, it is now embedded in youth culture, driven as much by social influence as by nicotine itself.

E-cigarettes have now become a lifestyle accessory: sleek, flavoured and often perceived as harmless. But behind the clouds of “strawberry ice” and “blueberry burst” vapour lies a powerful lesson in how misinformation shapes behaviour, based less on chemistry than on psychology.

Understanding why vaping feels safe, appealing and difficult to quit requires looking not only at the device but at how our minds process risk, reward and social cues.

Psychology shows that people rarely process health information in nuanced ways. Faced with complex or uncertain evidence, including emerging research on vaping, our brains reduce it to simple categories, such as safe or unsafe.

This mental shortcut helps us make quick decisions without examining every detail. When people hear that vaping is less harmful than cigarettes, many take it to mean harmless, because judging relative risk feels complicated. Brightly coloured devices, sweet flavours and wellness-focused marketing reinforce the perception that vaping is good or safe, even without long-term evidence.

This simplification helps explain why misinformation spreads easily. Once a behaviour is mentally categorised as safe or desirable, people are less likely to question it or seek contradicting evidence. Our natural tendency to think in binaries leaves complex health messages open to distortion, strengthening the influence of marketing and social cues.

Social influence then amplifies the effect. When friends, peers and influencers post vaping content online, the behaviour becomes not just visible but celebrated, making it feel socially normal and desirable. Social proof encourages experimentation and reinforces the idea that quitting would mean losing belonging, identity or enjoyment.

Social media platforms magnify these cues, circulating anecdotes, trends and endorsements. The result is one million people in England vaping despite never having smoked regularly, under the illusion of safety.

Vaping took off not only because people were misinformed, but because their brains had reasons to keep believing it was safe. Loss aversion, the tendency to feel losses more intensely than gains, explains part of this.

When vaping seems harmless, the perceived losses of quitting, such as stress relief, enjoyable flavours, social connection and identity, feel immediate and real, while the long-term risks seem distant or unlikely. People hold on to vaping not just because they underestimate the dangers, but because stopping feels like giving up something valuable.

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Together, these forces create a self-reinforcing cycle. Binary thinking simplifies risk, social proof builds desirability and loss aversion makes quitting feel costly. Misinformation does not just mislead. It reshapes how people think, turning a harm-reduction tool into a socially embedded, hard-to-quit habit.

The rise of vaping reveals a deeper issue in how health information spreads. In the digital age, public understanding changes faster than scientific consensus. Online trends and anecdotes often outrun the slow, careful process of research, and young people are particularly susceptible. Once misinformation takes hold, it is difficult to reverse. One in ten UK secondary school pupils currently vape, even though the NHS warns that long-term effects remain uncertain.

If misinformation helped drive the vaping boom by exaggerating its benefits, reversing the trend requires changing what people believe they stand to gain. Improving media literacy is a start, helping people spot when relatable content is actually advertising, when trends are engineered or when claims are overstated.

Public health messages also need to meet people where they are, using short, engaging content that feels native to social media. When influencers and peers highlight the real costs of vaping, such as money, energy and lung capacity, and expose the marketing behind its appeal, perceptions can shift. This taps into loss aversion by making continued vaping feel like the bigger loss.

Combining media literacy with relatable, well-targeted content can change vaping perceptions, make psychological biases work in favour of health and help people resist misleading narratives.

Ultimately, addressing the vaping boom requires understanding the minds and social environments of those caught up in it, not just the science behind the device.

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

– ref. Why teenagers won’t quit vaping, even when the risks are clear – a psychologist explains – https://theconversation.com/why-teenagers-wont-quit-vaping-even-when-the-risks-are-clear-a-psychologist-explains-269476

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Elisabeth Schweiger, Lecturer in International Politics, University of Stirling

The Trump administration’s push to label drug traffickers as “narcoterrorists” and kill them at sea has generated global outrage. But the controversy risks missing the larger story.

Experts, non-governmental organisations and the UN have condemned the strikes as unlawful assassinations and Washington’s claim that it is acting in self-defence does not appear to hold up to legal analysis.

Yet these attacks are not a dramatic break. They extend a decades-long pattern of US “targeted killings”, from Yemen to Somalia to Syria. These attacks are almost always justified through controversial legal interpretations and have often been met with muted international opposition.

There’s a chance that the current narrative doesn’t address the deeper, more meaningful criticisms of the thinking behind it.

Recent escalations by the Trump administration in targeting what the White House describe as narcoterrorists in the Caribbean have sparked significant debate. The attacks against accused drug traffickers have been extensively reported and the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights has called on the US government to halt the “extrajudicial killing of people aboard these boats, whatever the criminal conduct alleged against them”.

The Trump administration has vaguely justified the attacks through the right to self-defence in an armed conflict against narcoterrorists. But that claim has been refuted by UN experts, who have pointed out that “international law does not permit the unilateral use of force abroad to fight terrorism or drug trafficking”.

Under international law, the use of force in self-defence can only be justified if an armed attack against a state has occurred first or is imminent. For a situation to be classed as an armed conflict, certain threshold requirements need to be reached. Simply declaring that you are in an armed conflict with a group does not make it so.

Furthermore, criminals are not combatants, no matter how politically and socially problematic they may be. As such, lethal actions against them infringe upon fundamental human rights obligations – such as the right to life and the right to a fair trial.

‘War on terror’

The assaults and their justifications undoubtedly represent a troubling new development in US military practices. Yet the focus on attacks against drug criminals in the Caribbean obscures the similarities to current military operations conducted by the US against people they have designated as terrorists in the Middle East and Africa.

These have received barely any attention in public debates even though hundreds of people have recently been killed in Yemen, as well as in attacks in Syria, Iraq and Somalia.

The current campaign in the Caribbean is part of a broader pattern. For more than two decades, successive US administrations have carried out targeted killings overseas under contested definitions of what combatants are and what constitutes an armed conflict during the so-called “war on terror”.

The US-led campaign against Islamic State killed thousands of people, with civilian deaths estimated between 8,000 and 13,000 between 2014 and 2019. US airstrikes in Somalia and Yemen continue. Strikes at the port of Ras Isa and Sadaa’s remand migration detention centre a few months ago appear to have killed at least 150 civilians and injuring 200 more.

A witness, interviewed by Amnesty International described the attack on the migration centre: “They said they woke up to find dismembered bodies around them. You could see the shock and horror on their faces.”

It is worth remembering that the UK and other European powers have often participated in and facilitated such attacks and rarely challenged their legality.

Many countries have been fearful of directly confronting the US and objecting to these infringements of international law. As I have showed elsewhere, the legality of targeted killing strikes of terrorists outside of armed conflict has been consistently rejected by the overwhelming majority of countries.

States have characterised such practices by Israel as extrajudicial executions and have indicated concern over US practices – but they have often stopped short of openly opposing a global superpower.

So the strikes in Venezuela follow a pattern used regularly by the US and others. The Trump administration may have justified its strikes by coming up with the new and deeply problematic category of narcoterrorists. But the underlying logic remains unchanged. The US claims the authority to execute any individual it deems a threat – wherever and whenever it chooses.

Normalising murder

The consequences of this pattern are hardly unforeseeable. Experts have long warned that normalising such practices risks undermining the prohibition on the use of force and of extrajudicial killings. This potentially sets a precedent for powerful states to use lethal force against anyone they deem inconvenient.

The risk is that the monstrosity of this logic becomes obscured and the idea of targeting non-combatant narcoterrorists is eventually normalised once the initial surge of outrage fades. Already, the discussion in some quarters is beginning to shift from whether such strikes should occur to how they should be conducted, focusing on issues like target identification.

And while the attacks on drug traffickers rightly attract scrutiny, comparatively little attention is paid to the continuing, systemic use of lethal operations in parts of Africa or the Middle East, which often takes place under similar legal rationales.

This relative silence is significant. As I argue in my forthcoming book Silent War, this lack of protest and media attention – and the silence in public debates – not only reflects orientalist assumptions and power asymmetries. It also effectively enables and legitimises such political aggression.

Elisabeth Schweiger 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. Donald Trump’s strikes against narcoterrorists are new but the logic behind them isn’t – https://theconversation.com/donald-trumps-strikes-against-narcoterrorists-are-new-but-the-logic-behind-them-isnt-271688