Donald Trump’s ‘board of peace’ looks like a privatised UN with one shareholder: the US president

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

It is hard to believe that Donald Trump has only been back in the White House for a year. His accomplishments are many – but most of them are of questionable durability or benefit, including for the United States.

Even his UN-endorsed 20-point ceasefire and transition plan for Gaza released on September 29 2025 is now in danger of being subsumed in yet another grandiose fantasy of the American president: the so-called “board of peace” to be chaired by Trump.

This group of international dignitaries was originally intended to oversee the work of a more technical committee, comprising technocrats responsible for the day-to-day recovery and rebuilding of Gaza. But the board of peace’s charter makes no mention of Gaza at all.

Instead, its opening sentence declares that “durable peace requires pragmatic judgment, common-sense solutions, and the courage to depart from approaches and institutions that have too often failed”.

To make this break with such an unseemly past, the board of peace proclaims itself to be “an international organization” to “secure enduring peace in areas affected or threatened by conflict” and commits to conducting its operations “in accordance with international law”.

To which the immediate reaction is that unilateralism is increasingly the hallmark of Trump’s second administration. Settling conflicts is the prerogative of the UN. And, over the past year, the US has shown itself to be unconcerned about international law.

Membership of the board is by invitation from the chairman: Donald Trump – who has broad and flexible discretion on how long he will serve for and who will replace him when he does decide to go. Those invited can join for free for three years and buy themselves a permanent seat at the table for US$1 billion (£740 million) – in cash, payable in the first year.

With Trump retaining significant power over the direction of the board and many of its decisions it is not clear what US$1 billion would exactly buy the permanent members of the board – except perhaps a chance to ingratiate themselves with Trump.

There is no question that established institutions have often failed to achieve durable peace. Among such institutions, the UN has been a favourite target for Trump’s criticism and disdain, as evident in a recent directive to cease participating in and funding 31 UN organisations. Among them were the peace-building commission and the peace-building fund, as well as office of the special representative for children in armed conflict.

Is this the end for the United Nations?

The deeper and more tragic irony in this is threefold. First, there is strong evidence that the UN is effective as peace builder, especially after civil war, and that UN peacekeeping does work to keep the peace.

Second, there is no question that the UN does not always succeed in its efforts to achieve peace. But this is as much, if not more often, the fault of its member states.

There’s a long history of UN member states blocking security council resolutions, providing only weak mandates or cutting short the duration of UN missions. They have also obstructed operations on the ground, as is evident in the protracted crisis in Sudan, where the UN endlessly debates human suffering but lacks most of the funds to alleviate it.

Third, even though he is unlikely to ever admit it publicly, Trump by now has surely found out for himself that making peace is neither easy nor straightforward despite his claim to have solved eight conflicts.

And the more so if the “pragmatic judgement” and “commonsense solutions” that the charter to his board of peace subscribe to end up being, as seems likely, little more than a thin disguise for highly transactional deals designed to prioritise profitable returns for an America-first agenda.

Part of the reason why the UN has success as a peacemaker and peacebuilder is the fact that it is still seen as relatively legitimate. This is something that is unlikely to be immediately associated with Trump or his board of peace if it ever takes off.

Such scepticism appears well founded, particularly considering that among the invitees to join the board is the Russian president, Vladimir Putin, who is not particularly well known for his love of peace. Even Trump, on rare occasions, admittedly, seems to have come to this realisation. But it did not stop him from inviting Putin to join the board of peace.

What’s in it for Trump?

So, what to make of it all? Is it just another of Trump’s controversial initiatives that he hopes might eventually earn him the Nobel peace prize after all? Is it merely a money-making opportunity for Trump personally, or is it designed for his political and corporate allies, who might benefit from projects implemented by his board of peace? Ultimately, it might be any of these.

The real question needs to be about the consequences for the current system. What Trump is effectively proposing is to set up a corporate version of the UN, controlled and run by him. That he is capable of such a proposal should not come as a shock after 12 months of Trump 2.0.

More surprising is the notion that other political leaders will support it. This is one of the few opportunities they have to stop him in his tracks. It would not be a cost-free response, as the French president, Emmanuel Macron, has found when he did not appear sufficiently enthusiastic and Trump threatened the immediate imposition of 200% tariffs on French wine.

But more leaders should consider whether they really want to be Trump’s willing executioners when it comes to the UN and instead imagine, to paraphrase a well-known anti-war slogan, what would happen if Trump “gave a board of peace and no one came?”

The Conversation

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.

ref. Donald Trump’s ‘board of peace’ looks like a privatised UN with one shareholder: the US president – https://theconversation.com/donald-trumps-board-of-peace-looks-like-a-privatised-un-with-one-shareholder-the-us-president-273856

I research the harm that can come to teenagers on social media. I don’t support a ban

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Emily Setty, Associate Professor in Criminology, University of Surrey

Rawpixel.com/Shutterstock

The UK government has launched a consultation on introducing an Australian-style ban on social media for under-16s. The proposal is framed as a bold response to rising concerns about young people’s mental health, online abuse and exposure to harmful content.

At first glance, a ban sounds straightforward: keep children away from platforms that can cause harm. But as someone who has spent years researching young people’s digital lives, relationships and wellbeing, I believe that a blanket ban risks misunderstanding both the problem and the solution.

My research with teenagers consistently shows that the harms young people experience online are not separate from the harms they face offline. Bullying, racism, sexism, coercion, exclusion and body image pressures all pre-date social media. Digital platforms can amplify these problems, but they do not create them from scratch.

In focus groups I conducted with teenagers and research I carried out with young people during the pandemic, participants described online life as an extension of school corridors, peer groups and local communities. This is what scholars increasingly call a “post-digital” reality. Young people do not experience online and offline as separate worlds, but as a single, interconnected continuum.

If harms are socially rooted, then technical restrictions alone are unlikely to solve them. A ban treats social media as the problem, rather than asking deeper questions about why certain behaviours – harassment, shaming, misogyny, exploitation – occur in the first place.

We also need to ask why digital spaces have become the default arenas for meeting so many needs in the first place. Over years of funding cuts to youth services, reduced community spaces and intensified academic pressures, online platforms have filled a gap.

They did not simply colonise young people’s lives. They were invited into a vacuum created by adult policy decisions. A ban addresses the symptom of these developments while leaving the wider contexts untouched.




Read more:
Young people’s social worlds are ‘thinning’ – here’s how that’s affecting wellbeing


There is also a practical problem. Age-based bans are difficult to enforce. Young people are resourceful digital citizens. Many will find workarounds, migrate to unregulated platforms or simply lie about their age.

This risks driving online activity underground, away from any oversight of parents, teachers and support services. Instead of engaging with young people where they already are, a ban could make it harder to identify those who are struggling and need help.

A recent joint statement signed by more than 40 children’s charities, digital safety experts and bereaved families warns of the danger that blanket prohibitions may isolate vulnerable young people from peer support networks and crisis resources.

What young people say they need

Many young people are critical of social media. In my research on online harms and influencer culture, young people frequently describe feeling exhausted by comparison culture, constant notifications and the pressure to be “always on”. They often say they want more time offline and more meaningful face-to-face connection.

Teenagers with phone sat on steps
Teens want more authentic experiences and to be able to talk to adults about social media.
SeventyFour/Shutterstock

This ambivalence shows that young people are not passive victims of technology but can identify problems and articulate the kind of digital lives they want. They ask for better education, more honest conversations and greater adult understanding.

They want to learn how to set boundaries, recognise coercion and algorithmic manipulation, and manage conflict. Above all, they want to be taken seriously as partners in solving the problems they face.

A blanket ban treats young people as a single homogeneous group, ignoring the diversity of their experiences, needs and circumstances. It assumes that what is protective for one young person will be protective for all, rather than recognising that risks and benefits are shaped by identity, relationships, resources and context.

What parents are really worried about

Parents’ perspectives add another important layer. In research colleagues and I have carried out with families, many parents express deep ambivalence about social media. They worry about online harms and often voice a nostalgic desire to return to a pre-internet era of childhood.

Yet this nostalgia is rarely about technology alone. It is more often an expression of feeling out of control as parents, in the face of powerful tech companies, complex digital cultures and broader social changes they perceive to be reshaping their children’s lives.

Parents describe feeling torn between wanting to protect their children, while recognising that digital communication is central to modern friendship and learning. They fear both the risks of their children being online and the risks of exclusion from being offline.

In this context, a ban can feel like an attractive proposition. It promises to restore a sense of order and authority. But it risks misdiagnosing the problem. What parents are asking for is not simply prohibition but more support to navigate these tensions, including clearer regulation of platforms, better education in schools and more resources to help families manage digital life together.

The illusion of simple fixes

The appeal of a ban lies in its simplicity. But complex social problems rarely yield to simple technological solutions.

Real progress will be slower and less headline-grabbing. It involves investing in high-quality relationships and sex education that reflects young people’s digital realities, and supporting parents to have informed conversations. It means regulating platform design to reduce exploitation and harassment, and holding social media companies more accountable. And it requires rebuilding the offline services and spaces that give young people genuine alternatives.

Social media is not an external danger that young people occasionally visit. It is woven into their everyday social worlds. By cutting young people off from the spaces through which they meet real personal, interpersonal and social needs, a ban risks leaving them unmoored.

A generation growing up in a networked world needs guidance, not exclusion from the spaces where their lives unfold. Policy must start from how young people actually live, not from adult fears about technology. If we want young people to be safer online, the answer is not to ban their digital lives, but to help them navigate them.

The Conversation

Emily Setty receives funding from ESRC, Leverhulme Trust, University of Surrey and various government, third-sector and for-profit organisations.

ref. I research the harm that can come to teenagers on social media. I don’t support a ban – https://theconversation.com/i-research-the-harm-that-can-come-to-teenagers-on-social-media-i-dont-support-a-ban-273835

Trump is testing Europe – and the clock is ticking

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Georgios Samaras, Assistant Professor of Public Policy, King’s College London

A year into Donald Trump’s second presidency, he is pressing ahead with a volatile agenda that tests the limits of the international order.

Europe, by contrast, looks disorganised in the face of the threats Trump is making to annex Greenland and strategically hesitant overall. Rather than setting out a coherent approach, the response risks splintering into reactive moves shaped by domestic constraints.

If this pattern continues, the fallout could be far more serious than many seem to grasp – especially as Trump appears willing to brush aside international law and go after European leaders personally whenever it serves his political brand.

European leaders are sending markedly inconsistent signals. French president Emmanuel Macron has been more assertive than most. He has framed Trump’s posture as a “new colonial approach”, rejecting what he depicts as politics conducted through intimidation rather than rules.

Perhaps his deep unpopularity at home helps explain his more decisive stance against Trump – an attempt to project himself as a tougher, more explicitly pro-European leader.

By contrast, German chancellor Friedrich Merz has prioritised de-escalation. He warns against a spiral of retaliation, while still signalling that Europe could respond if coercion intensifies.

Like Macron, Merz has had a difficult year since winning the 2025 federal election. But his cautious style suggests he is inclined to test the waters and avoid escalating tensions with the US. After all, most of his policy moves over the past 12 months have done little to lift his popularity.

Italian prime minister Giorgia Meloni, meanwhile, has positioned herself as a potential mediator, seeking to manage the confrontation rather than confront it head-on. Unlike Macron and Merz, she remains popular in Italy, and her voters appear to approve of her approach to Trump and the US so far. Her recent comments suggest she intends to stay the course.

That lack of coherence is compounded by the strategic hedging of Trump-aligned leaders inside the EU. Viktor Orbán of Hungary and Robert Fico of Slovakia have avoided explicit pushback on threats to Denmark’s sovereignty, focusing instead on their bilateral channels with Trump and other agenda items. This behaviour risks weakening collective deterrence by signalling disunity at the very moment unity is most consequential.

Different dynamics

A similar pattern was clearly visible after the US abducted Nicolás Maduro from Venezuela. While EU and UK responses emphasised process and dialogue, they avoided taking a stance on the legality of those actions – even as legal scholars and public institutions raised serious concerns about compliance with international law.

Europe has a narrowing window to treat these episodes as a single strategic problem. Downplaying the threats coming out of the White House as bluster does not reduce the risk – it in fact lowers the political cost of escalation on the US’s part and makes an eventual attempt at annexation easier to present as “inevitable”.

If threats of territorial revisionism are met with hedging by Europe and talk of “monitoring”, they begin to look like another negotiating style rather than what they are – a direct challenge to the post-war European security order.

Trump has never disguised his contempt for the contemporary political mainstream. He has repeatedly lent political oxygen to far-right projects across Europe, treating them as ideological kin rather than as democratic outliers. Europe therefore needs to face a blunt reality: this crisis is politically damaging whatever course leaders choose. More power for Trump is more power for the far right.

Hostility towards Trump is widespread among the general public in Europe. This should not be treated as background noise. It is a political signal that voters expect clarity. When that clarity does not materialise, the message received by the public is that the political system is either unable or unwilling to defend basic principles and security.

In that context, institutional credibility erodes fast, and the far right gains. If the mainstream appears weak, evasive and unserious in the face of the gravest security risk Europe has confronted since the second world war, it appears illegitimate.

Very few far right figures (with the exception of the French National Rally’s Jordan Bardella) have said anything about the current situation. Silence is not necessarily a weakness here, because it often looks strategic.

Trump wants allies, and much of the European far right also wants Washington’s blessing. Yet this creates an awkward tension: when a US president openly threatens European territory, the far right’s usual claims about the primacy of sovereignty could be thrown off balance.

The direct approach

One obvious place for the centre to look is to the left – not for comfort, but for political clarity. Across Europe, many leftwing parties have responded to Trump’s imperialist posture in direct, unambiguous terms.

In the UK, Green party leader Zack Polanski has called for the removal of US forces from British bases. In Germany, Die Linke has argued for European unity and resistance in the face of Trump’s threats. In France, senior figures in La France Insoumise have gone further, openly raising Nato withdrawal in response to US policy.

The point is not that every one of these positions is a blueprint. It is that responses exist – credible, legible, and politically coherent – for a continent facing an escalating threat, including the prospect of coercion against Greenland.

While the centre fragments, parts of the left have been willing to name what is happening and set out lines of action. The centre should pay attention – and catch up, fast.

The Conversation

Georgios Samaras 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. Trump is testing Europe – and the clock is ticking – https://theconversation.com/trump-is-testing-europe-and-the-clock-is-ticking-273990

Valentino: the Italian designer who broke into French haute couture with his elegant style and signature red

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Naomi Braithwaite, Associate Professor in Fashion and Material Culture, Nottingham Trent University

On the advent of the seasonal haute couture catwalk shows in Paris, the fashion industry mourns the loss of another iconic designer. Valentino Garavani has died at the age of 93. He was the creator of the House of Valentino and renowned as one of Italy’s greatest couturiers.

For Valentino, fashion was about creating beautiful dresses. He was famously quoted as saying: “I know what women want. They want to be beautiful.” However, his notions of “ideal beauty” were met with some controversy through his career, in particular his defence of skinny models on the runway in 2007.

After a childhood in Italy surrounded by and inspired by fashion, a young Valentino moved to Paris in 1950 to study at the prestigious École des Beaux Arts
and Chambre Syndicale de la Couture Parisienne.

It was during this time that he apprenticed with couturiers, including Balenciaga and Guy Laroche. Haute couture, defined as “high dressmaking”, is distinct from ready-to-wear fashion. The couturier is a designer who uses bespoke techniques and makes one-off garments for individual customers. Couture garments are made by hand with specialised techniques and luxurious materials.

In 1959, following the founding of his design studio in Rome, Valentino designed his first ready-to-wear collection. This collection included strapless mid-length dresses in block colours and showcased what was to become known as the eponymous Valentino style. This was fashion that embodied elegance and sophistication with meticulous attention paid to accentuating the female silhouette through the use of sumptuous materials.

In 1960, Valentino opened the luxury fashion house, Valentino, with the support of his business and life partner Giancarlo Giammetti. It was his first couture show in 1962 at The Pitti Palace in Florence that was to launch Valentino onto the global fashion stage. Critics were astounded by his exquisite tailored dresses in sumptuous materials, including a parade of red dresses that were to become his signature look. The looks on show exuded elegance and showcased Valentino’s ability to inject a modern stance on classic styling..

The success of Valentino’s 1962 show was reinforced soon after when, French Vogue dedicated their front cover to an Italian designer for the first time. From then on Valentino became the designer to the stars, creating iconic looks for celebrities including Jackie Kennedy and Audrey Hepburn. Kennedy chose a Valentino gown to marry her second husband, Aristotle Onassis, in 1968.

In 1973, Valentino became the first Italian designer to be welcomed into the Fédération de la Haute Couture et de la Mode (the Federation of Haute Couture and Fashion). This was unusual for an organisation which privileged couture as part of France’s heritage. Membership is restricted to those who demonstrate outstanding craftsmanship and creativity. The federation’s recognition of Valentino’s contribution to haute couture was a testament to the techniques that he gained in Paris as a student and apprentice of couture fashion.

Valentino became the first Italian to present haute couture on Paris runways. Undoubtedly, his success in Paris paved the way for Italy’s other legendary designers, Giorgio Armani and Gianni Versace, to show at haute couture week.

Over the years the Valentino brand has expanded to include menswear and accessories. In 1998, the label was sold to an Italian holding company for an estimated US$300 million (£223 million), with Valentino continuing as designer until his retirement in 2008.

Valentino will probably be most renowned for his iconic red dresses. Red was first featured in Valentino’s 1959 collection with the La Fiesta dress. The colour became a signature style throughout his career.

“Rosso Valentino” received a registered trademark in 1985 and has its own pantone made from a formula that blends 100% magenta, with 100% yellow and 10% black. When Valentino retired in 2008, his last catwalk show was held at the Musee Rodin in Paris, and for the finale the models all wore dresses in his signature red.

Today Valentino is under the creative direction of Alessandro Michele who, following news of the death of Valentino, reflected on him as “an almost mythical figure”.

The death of Valentino follows a few months after the loss of Giorgio Armani. Valentino and Armani were both creative visionaries who placed Italian fashion on the global stage. Their fashion houses were built through their hard graft and creative genius and they will be remembered simultaneously as a leading generation of designers from a time before fashion was significantly commercialised and run by conglomerates.

The Italian fashion industry has certainly taken a huge hit with the loss of two of its most legendary designers. However, both Valentino and Armani have left an undeniable mark on fashion, that will continue to define Italy’s dominance in the global fashion industry.

Reflecting on a life in fashion, Valentino’s approach to silhouette, fabric and his distinctive signature red colour, reveals a designer who leaves a huge mark on fashion globally too. To look back at his work is to see that he undoubtedly fulfilled his wish to make women beautiful.


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The Conversation

Naomi Braithwaite 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. Valentino: the Italian designer who broke into French haute couture with his elegant style and signature red – https://theconversation.com/valentino-the-italian-designer-who-broke-into-french-haute-couture-with-his-elegant-style-and-signature-red-273948

Why everyone should be a student of American studies

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Sarah Trott, Senior Lecturer in American Studies and History, York St John University

The US president Donald Trump’s domestic and foreign policy has surprised much of the world, particularly US allies. It breaks with expectations about how the US has traditionally behaved.

This is mainly due to Trump’s speed and bluntness of decisions, his breaks with longstanding norms and his unpredictable style. But the capture of Venezuelan president, Nicolás Maduro, and the mounting tension over America’s threatened occupation of Greenland are not isolated events. Neither is the government’s stance over immigration policy and citizenship. They’re rooted in longstanding struggles for power, justice and equality.

This is what makes the academic subject of American studies – in decline in UK universities – so relevant. American studies examines the nation’s history, literature, politics and social movements. By doing so, it helps contextualise current conflicts. Political polarisation, racial tensions, culture wars and debates over identity are placed within a broader historical framework.

During Trump’s presidencies, the US has projected a more muscular, transactional approach to global affairs. At the same time, it has also reconfigured its own traditional ideals. This shift has affected everything from security and trade to climate and technology.

Expanding our understanding of how American society, culture and politics works helps us anticipate instability. This could be through formal education like an American studies course or through building our own knowledge.

The American experiment

America has long understood itself as an “experiment” rather than a finished nation. It’s a political project constantly being tested, revised and debated. This idea is embodied in the US Constitution. It was designed not as a fixed blueprint but as a living framework, capable of change through amendments.

American history is rife with examples of how democracy has been an ongoing (and flawed) project, not a completed one. The nation’s history is marked by struggles over who gets to participate in the democratic process. This includes the exclusion of women, the LGBTQ+ community, African Americans and Native Americans, and the fight for voting rights and civil liberties. Understanding this history can help contextualise the current political landscape. It reminds us that the issues we face today are not entirely new.

American studies can’t fully explain the present without grounding students in the Constitution’s foundational architecture. This includes the separation of powers into equal branches, the system of checks and balances, and the assumption that no single person or institution should dominate the republic.

These principles have been challenged before. During the Civil War, the survival of constitutional democracy itself was at stake. During the McCarthy era – a period of persecution of people with left-wing views in the 1940s and 50s, led by US senator Joseph McCarthy – fear eroded civil liberties. Understanding what is occurring during the Trump administration therefore requires situating him not as an anomaly outside the system, but as a stress test within the American experiment. This stress reveals both the vulnerabilities and the resilience of the constitutional order.

Past and present

Trump’s recent capture of Maduro follows months of military campaigning and years of strained relationships. The possibility of a US-led invasion of Venezuela stems back to 2017, when Venezuela slid towards political unrest. The erosion of democracy, accusations of human rights violations and economic collapse led to humanitarian crises.

The US has a long history of interventions, peace operations and force-backed diplomacy that long predates this event, such as in Cuba (1961), the Dominican Republic (1965), Grenada (1983) and Panama (1989). These examples all fit into a long tradition of US intervention rooted in the Monroe Doctrine (1823) and later expanded by the Roosevelt Corollary (1904). Together, these doctrines supplied the ideological and legal justification for US involvement in Latin America.




Read more:
The ‘Donroe doctrine’: Maduro is the guinea pig for Donald Trump’s new world order


The mounting tension over America’s heavy strategic interest in Greenland echoes cold war anxieties. It is reminiscent of the great-power rivalry, strategic geography and militarisation that defined that era.

More significantly for global relations and stability, it potentially jeopardises the future of Nato. As The US is one of Nato’s principal architects, guarantors, and its military backbone, this is alarming. America’s historical association with the alliance has been defensive and leadership-driven.

The recent killing of Renee Good by a US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agent in Minneapolis has refocused the debate over America’s immigration enforcement. The expansion in power and visibility of ICE fits into a long history of questioning “What is an American?”. It’s been a topic of debate since the 18th century.

Debates over immigration reflect deeper questions about national identity. The US vice-president, J.D. Vance, questioned New York City’s then-mayoral candidate Zohran Mamdani’s American citizenship. He linked American identity to the American civil war. This raised a highly problematic – if not shocking – interpretation of “Americanness”.

By looking back at these historical moments, we can better understand the root causes of contemporary problems. In short, understanding America’s past is a vital tool for understanding and navigating the global present.

The Conversation

Sarah Trott 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 everyone should be a student of American studies – https://theconversation.com/why-everyone-should-be-a-student-of-american-studies-273385

Why Trump is attacking the UK over Chagos Islands – and what it tells us about Britain’s place in the world

Source: The Conversation – UK – By James Brocklesby, Lecturer in History, Sheffield Hallam University

The US and UK maintain a joint naval base on Diego Garcia. zelvan/Shutterstock

The UK formally agreed to transfer sovereignty over the Chagos Islands to Mauritius in May 2025. With the Trump administration’s explicit support, this move ended one of the longest-running territorial disputes in Britain’s remaining overseas territories.

The decision has been hailed by some as a long-overdue act of decolonisation, condemned by others as a strategic misstep. Unexpectedly, Donald Trump has now reignited the debate, branding the deal an “act of great stupidity”.

Why has this small chain of remote Indian Ocean islands become such a flashpoint?

The roots of the crisis lie in the dismantling of Britain’s empire in the 1960s. The Chagos archipelago was historically administered as part of colonial Mauritius, then a British colony. In 1965, three years before Mauritian independence, the UK separated Chagos from Mauritius to create a new territory: the British Indian Ocean Territory.

The creation of a new colony was an act shaped by cold war strategy. Mounting economic and strategic pressures in the late 1960s – including the devaluation of the pound in 1967 and the Labour government’s 1968 decision to withdraw British forces east of the Suez Canal – together curtailed Britain’s regional defence role in the Indian Ocean.

As Britain retreated “east of Suez”, it still wanted a secure military foothold in the Indian Ocean, particularly one that could be used jointly with the US. Diego Garcia, the largest island in Chagos, was ideal: isolated, strategically positioned between Africa and Southeast Asia, near major trade routes and capable of hosting a major naval and air facility.

The costs were met by the UK, with £3 million paid to Mauritius to cede the islands. But the price of this strategy was paid by the Chagossians. Between 1967 and the early 1970s, the islanders were forcibly removed from their homes and relocated to Mauritius and the Seychelles. Their removal was brutal: families were separated, livelihoods destroyed, and a distinct island community effectively erased.

Why the UK changed course

By the 21st century, Britain’s legal position was increasingly untenable. In 2019, the International Court of Justice ruled that the separation of the Chagos archipelago from Mauritius had been unlawful and that the UK should “terminate” its administration “as rapidly as possible”. The UN General Assembly backed this view with an overwhelming but non-binding vote.

Mauritius has consistently argued that the islands are a stolen part of its national territory, and therefore their decolonisation is incomplete. Over time, this case gained traction – Britain’s continued control of Chagos came to symbolise the unfinished business of empire.

By 2022, James Cleverly, then the UK’s foreign secretary, opened negotiations with Mauritius to “resolve all outstanding issues” over the archipelago. In October 2024, the Labour government under Keir Starmer concluded that a negotiated settlement was preferable to decades more legal wrangling.

The deal struck with Mauritius did two things: it transferred sovereignty over the archipelago to Mauritius, while securing a 99-year lease on Diego Garcia to allow the existing US-UK military base to continue operating at a cost of £3.4 billion.

On paper, this protected British (and by extension US) strategic interests in the region while satisfying the legal argument from the UN. However, while the deal was initially supported by the US, the deal has come under attack from other UK political parties, and increasingly jars with Trump’s vision of the world.

Why the islands matter strategically

The significance of Chagos is its location. Diego Garcia is one of the most important western military installations outside Europe and North America. It has been described as “an all but indispensable platform” for US interests in the Middle East and East Africa, with B-52 bombers recently used from the base to strike Yemen.

In an era of renewed great-power rivalry, the island’s value has increased. As China expands its naval presence in the Indian Ocean, western governments see Diego Garcia as a counterweight. However, critics of the deal have raised questions about the China-Mauritius relationship, arguing this would allow China a crucial foothold in the region.

For the UK, the base also underpins its claim to still be a meaningful military actor beyond Europe. For this reason, sovereignty transfer was carefully managed. Britain was not abandoning the base, but ensuring an arrangement that kept western military access intact while removing the colonial stain.

On one level, the Chagos deal looks like a model of decolonisation. Britain accepted international law, acknowledged a historic wrong and negotiated a settlement.

Yet this is happening at a moment when global politics is becoming more overtly imperial in style. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, China’s assertive regional ambitions and Trump’s expansionist rhetoric about Greenland all suggest a world less governed by law and more by power.

In that context, Britain’s attempt to “do the right thing” over Chagos risks looking out of step. It reflects a rules-based worldview that is under pressure.

This creates a dilemma for Britain, which on January 20 vowed to “never compromise on national security”. The UK government defended the deal, saying it had to hand over the Chagos Islands because the military base was “under threat” from international legal action.

Britain is no longer an imperial sovereign with uncontested control over distant territories. It is a mid-sized power that must balance history, law, alliances and strategy.

This situation also exposes Britain’s continued dependence on the US for its global military clout and economic advantages. Without the US, Diego Garcia would be far less significant. The US substantially provides most of the base’s military capability. Trump’s criticism underscores a deeper vulnerability: Britain’s post-imperial identity remains tethered to American power.

The Conversation

James Brocklesby 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 Trump is attacking the UK over Chagos Islands – and what it tells us about Britain’s place in the world – https://theconversation.com/why-trump-is-attacking-the-uk-over-chagos-islands-and-what-it-tells-us-about-britains-place-in-the-world-273939

Come Down to a Lower Place – a Lovecraftian Korean tale about the oppression of female workers and their bodies

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Debra Benita Shaw, Reader in Cultural Theory in the School of Architecture and Visual Arts, University of East London

Honford Star

The writings of H.P. Lovecraft have seen a renewal of interest in recent years, despite the fact that he was a well-known racist and xenophobe. Writing in the early 20th century, he imagined monsters that gave form to fear of difference.

Creatures like Cthulhu, probably his best-known and most borrowed invention, effectively challenge human complacency about our place in the world as the most powerful species. Lovecraft describes Cthulhu as a “huge, formless white polypous thing; a “squid-head with writhing feelers” that inhabits the lost city of R’lyeh, described as “nothing of this or of any sane planet”.

His story The Call of Cthulhu recounts a documented history of human encounters with the monster that lead only to madness and death. Such monsters, and their strange domains, led the philosopher Graham Harman to coin the term “weird realism” to describe Lovecraft’s oeuvre.

Lovecraft’s stories also reveal his fear of women and the horror he saw in their capacity to give birth to the thing he perhaps feared above all – a hybrid race that would put an end to white supremacy. As Lovecraft expert Carl Sederholm has noted, Lovecraft’s stories abound with “creatures that ooze, pulsate and drip mostly from below the waist”.

It is this fear of women’s bodies and the attendant racism and misogyny bound up in it that is confronted in the recently published novella Come Down To A Lower Place by Seoyoung Yi. The novella is part of the Lovecraft Reanimated project by UK-based publisher Honford Star, in which leading Korean speculative fiction writers reimagine the works of Lovecraft.

The novel opens with Lee Seul, a team leader at Yukwang Construction, worrying about her vaginal discharge and struggling with a UTI (urinary tract infection). Seul has been tasked with investigating a smell seeping up from the basement of a prestigious department store, threatening the carefully curated ambience of the luxury goods department on the first floor. The plans for the original construction during the colonial era hint at something sinister.

A woman with tentacles around her.

Honford Star

The stinking slime that oozes from the basement heralds the arrival of Bin-o-Jae, a Lovecraftian monster formed from the despair of countless women subjected to misogynistic violence. It’s been created from such experiences as the suppressed pain of generations of female workers denied the breaks necessary to change their sanitary pads during their periods – “their knees twisting under bright lights, as they waited for a chance to go to the bathroom”.

Department stores in colonial Korea were known for propagating the emotional labour identified by the sociologist Arlie Russell Hochschild in The Managed Heart (1983). Like the flight attendants that Hochschild examined, female store attendants were expected to smile constantly and endure rude and dismissive customer attitudes without complaint.

In research published in 2018, social scientists Jinseok Oh and Howard Kahm reported on the case of Paek Inbong, a worker at the Hwasin Department Store in Seoul. In 1938, after constant bullying by her manager, Inbong took an overdose of sleeping pills. Talking about the experience, she said:

“[The manager] started scolding me for fidgeting and kept going until I could hardly breathe. I thought it would be better to die than to suffer like this. In order to show the agony felt by the employees, I decided to die.”

In exploring this kind of territory, Come Down To A Lower Place is unashamedly political. It espouses a return to the socialist feminism promoted by social theorists Michèle Barrett and Mary McIntosh, who argued for a recognition of gender roles and their expression in heteropatriarchal (straight and male-dominated) institutions, like marriage, as essential to the perpetuation of capitalism.

Yi’s book is certainly born of Korea’s 4B movement, a feminist movement with four tenets all of which start with “bi” (no) in Korean – bihon (no marriage), bichulsan (no childbirth), biyeonae (no dating) and bisekseu (no sex). Drawing on this, the book makes the case for women’s power to withdraw their labour, both as workers in the consumer economy and as wives and mothers.

Yi’s Bin-o-jae stands for the accumulation of frustration and anxiety that gave rise to 4B and for the liberatory potential of women’s anger. This monster has been waiting impatiently for a woman like Lee Seul, to unleash its power on the world, which, Yi hints, it plans to do on her wedding day.

Bin-o-jae is, like Cthulhu, squid-like and huge with writhing tentacles, described as not “gray like a squid’s” but “more like a piece of mammalian flesh – massive, red and covered in slime”. Equally, like Cthulhu, it defies full description as it partially emerges from the depths below the department store, hinting at further horrors to be revealed. However, its effects are quite different.

While Lovecraft’s protagonists succumb to madness, chronic fevers and suicide, Seul, at the end, embraces Bin-o-jae and, “despite the pain … throughout her body … strangely [feels] at peace”. As Seul is fitted for her wedding dress, she struggles to contain the monster that now fully inhabits her body and she promises it “just a little longer” before she releases it upon the world.

Lovecraft’s legacy therefore entails a somewhat delicious irony in this book. Bin-o-jae is Cthulhu repurposed to draw attention to women’s very real pain and the potential power of unleashing their anger in collective action.

As Yi demonstrates, poking the monster doesn’t always lead to horror and death; it may just lead you to the power you need to win the fight.

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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The Conversation

Debra Benita Shaw 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. Come Down to a Lower Place – a Lovecraftian Korean tale about the oppression of female workers and their bodies – https://theconversation.com/come-down-to-a-lower-place-a-lovecraftian-korean-tale-about-the-oppression-of-female-workers-and-their-bodies-273619

What Mark Zuckerberg’s metaverse U-turn means for the future of virtual reality

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Per Ola Kristensson, Professor of Interactive Systems Engineering, University of Cambridge

Mark Zuckerberg’s vision for the metaverse was meant to reimagine how we interact with each other and the world, providing us with an immersive world where we could seamlessly combine digital and physical information.

The parent company, renamed Meta along the way, had begun introducing headsets and reimagining everyday computing with its Project Orion augmented-reality glasses.

Now, however, Meta is making deep budget cuts to its Reality Labs division, which could see around 10% of the 15,000 employees working on the metaverse and related projects lose their jobs. Meta’s chief technology officer Andrew Bosworth confirmed the cuts to staff in a memo on January 13.

But my years of research with colleagues suggest this apparent U-turn is far from the end of the road for the technology. In search of commercial applications that stretch beyond gaming, it is, though, likely to signal a shift from virtual reality (VR) to less-immersive ways to merge the digital and real worlds.

This augmented reality approach has already been realised through products such as Microsoft HoloLens, which present virtual information within an optical see-through display.

Such augmented reality devices give the illusion of virtual information appearing in physical 3D space. They can also allow users to interact through both gestures and gaze, using integrated hand- and eye-tracking technology.

Meta’s CEO Mark Zuckerberg explains the metaverse in 2021. Video: Skarredghost.

The problem with virtual reality

After decades of research and development, VR technology is unquestionably a real product serving real needs. State-of-the-art headsets provide users with impressive immersive 3D environments along with integrated robust hand and eye tracking. Beyond gaming, virtual reality is used to train medical doctors, engineers, pilots, and many others.

But there is a conflict when it comes to more general, day-to-day applications. I and many others believe that with the advent of AI, new interfaces will be needed beyond the mobile phone to control and benefit from the applications in the work and home. At the same time, it is clear from our research that many people find VR headsets just too immersive, unsettling and impractical to use.

In a two-week user study in 2022, we compared working in virtual reality for an entire working week – five days in a row, eight hours each day – against a baseline of performing the same work using a standard setup with a regular display, external keyboard and mouse.

In this study, we asked 16 volunteers to do their ordinary office work, such as word processing, programming, creating spreadsheets, and so on. The headline result was that users could work in virtual reality for an entire workweek – but there were lots of issues in doing so.

Study participants using VR experienced a higher perceived workload as well as lower usability, lower perceived productivity, higher frustration, lower wellbeing, higher anxiety, a greater experience of simulator sickness and higher visual fatigue. In short, VR yielded worse outcomes on all key metrics.

Despite these results, in the interviews participants commented that they could see themselves using VR if headsets were lighter and if exposure to virtual reality was limited to a few hours at most.

In a follow-up research paper in 2024, we examined the video evidence we had collected in the study in detail. It showed what participants did while wearing the headset – adjusting it, managing the cable when it got in the way, eating and drinking by lifting up the headset halfway, receiving phone calls, and rubbing their faces.

Our analysis showed people did gradually get used to the VR headsets. Overall, participants adjusted their headset about 40% less frequently towards the end of the workweek, and removed the headset approximately 30% less frequently.

This tells us it is possible to work in virtual reality as we normally work with a physical desktop, keyboard and mouse. But if we arrange it so the VR setup replicates our ordinary setup then VR, unsurprisingly, performs worse. We are asking a virtual environment to perfectly replicate our physical work environment, which is impossible.

More importantly, it tells us something about trade-offs. Virtual reality provides a fully immersive virtual environment that transports users to completely different virtual worlds. But this has to be balanced against negative qualities such as poor ergonomics, nausea and fatigue.

Superhuman powers

For any form of extended reality – from augmented-reality smart glasses to something much more ambitious – to achieve mainstream success, it needs to provide more positive than negative qualities in relation to devices we are already familiar with, such as laptops, tablets and phones.

The solution, I believe, is to be bold and reimagine extended reality – not as a transplantation or extension of devices we already use in our daily lives, but as a medium that bestows us superhuman powers. In particular, it can enable us to seamlessly interact with computing systems in the 3D space around us.

In physical reality, you have to select a tool to use it: you pick up a spraycan, then push a button to spray-paint. In a desktop interface, you click the spraycan icon and can thereafter spray-paint using a mouse. But in extended reality, there is no need to first select the tool in order to use it – you can just do it with hand gestures.

Extended reality ‘hot gestures’ can be used to control digital tools . Video: University of Cambridge.

Simply by forming your hand as if you were holding a spraycan and pushing down your index finger to spray, the system can automatically recognise that you wish to use the spraycan tool. It will then allow you to spray-paint the digital items, modulated by your index finger pushing down a virtual spraycan button.

Extended reality can also provide a medium for interacting with personal robotics by, for example, showing the robot’s future movements in 3D space in front of us. As artificial intelligence becomes increasingly embedded in our physical reality, this will become more important.

Ultimately, any vision of a metaverse (not just Zuckerberg’s version) will only succeed if it goes beyond current user interfaces. Extended reality must embrace the fact that it allows a seamless blending of virtual and physical information within our 3D world.

The Conversation

Per Ola Kristensson has previously consulted for Meta. He receives funding from EPSRC and Google.

ref. What Mark Zuckerberg’s metaverse U-turn means for the future of virtual reality – https://theconversation.com/what-mark-zuckerbergs-metaverse-u-turn-means-for-the-future-of-virtual-reality-273659

The truth about detoxes – by a liver specialist

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Trish Lalor, Professor in Experimental Hepatology, University of Birmingham

Pixel-Shot/Shutterstock

Every January, the same wave of “detox” promises rolls in. Juice cleanses, detox teas, charcoal capsules and liver “resets” all sell a familiar story: you overdid it over Christmas, your body is full of toxins, and you need a product to flush them out.

Here is the inconvenient truth. Your body already has a detox system. It is called your liver, supported by your kidneys and gut, and it has been doing this job your entire life.

I am a liver researcher. I study how this organ works, how it gets damaged and how it repairs itself. So if you are wondering whether you need to detox, my honest answer is that most healthy people do not. In fact, some popular detox trends are not just unnecessary, they can cause harm.

When people talk about detoxing, they usually mean getting rid of harmful substances. That is a real biological process, but it is not something you can switch on with a tea, a supplement or a three day cleanse. Detoxification happens continuously. The liver neutralises chemicals and breaks them down into forms the body can use or safely remove, with waste leaving mainly through urine and faeces. This process is well described in human physiology and toxicology research, including detailed accounts of liver metabolism.

If you are generally healthy and not repeatedly overwhelming your system, you do not need a reset. What the liver needs most is time and consistency, meaning fewer repeated insults and enough recovery time to repair itself between them.

Alcohol: the liver can cope, until it can’t

Alcohol is a useful example of how detoxification works, because everything you drink is processed directly by the liver. After drinking, alcohol is absorbed through the gut and carried in the bloodstream straight to this organ. Liver cells, called hepatocytes, break alcohol down in stages. One intermediate product, acetaldehyde, is toxic and contributes to hangover symptoms before being broken down further into acetate, which the body can use or eliminate.




Read more:
Hangovers happen as your body tries to protect itself from alcohol’s toxic effects


Problems arise with binge drinking or sustained heavy drinking. Under these conditions, the liver relies more heavily on alternative processing pathways that generate larger amounts of acetaldehyde and increase oxidative stress. This means toxic by-products are produced faster than they can be cleared. Over time, this damages liver cells, triggers inflammation and contributes to fibrosis, which is the build-up of scar tissue. If scarring becomes extensive, it can progress to cirrhosis, a stage where normal liver structure and function are severely disrupted, increasing the risk of liver failure and liver cancer.




Read more:
How alcohol contributes to the epidemic of liver disease


This is why how you drink matters, not just how much. Spacing drinks out keeps blood alcohol levels lower and gives the liver a better chance to keep up with detoxification.

Liver ‘cleanses’

When people replace alcohol and ultra-processed foods with liquids made from fruit, vegetables and herbs for a few days, they often feel better. That does not mean toxins have been pulled out of the liver. More often, it reflects lower calorie intake, fewer additives, increased fluid consumption and sometimes more fibre.

A short, sensible “cleanse” is unlikely to harm most healthy adults, but risks increase with very low calorie regimens, poorly regulated herbal ingredients or repeated long-term use.

Many detox products are sold as supplements rather than medicines, which means quality, dose and purity can vary widely. Higher doses and prolonged use increase the chance of adverse effects.

Some supplements have evidence in specific clinical settings. Vitamins D and E have been studied in certain liver diseases, and antioxidants such as N-acetylcysteine are used medically in cases of acute liver injury. These are targeted interventions used under medical guidance, not general detox tools, and they do not offset ongoing harmful behaviour.

Some high-dose detox “natural” supplements, such as green tea extract, can lead to liver inflammation, reflected in elevated liver enzymes on blood tests. This indicates liver cells are under stress or being damaged and, in severe cases, supplement-induced liver injury can progress to liver failure requiring a transplant.

Milk thistle and turmeric

Milk thistle and turmeric contain biologically active compounds with antioxidant and anti-inflammatory properties, and there is some evidence suggesting potential benefits in specific liver conditions. Milk thistle, for example, has been studied in alcohol-related liver disease and non-alcoholic fatty liver disease, but results are mixed and not strong enough to support routine use.




Read more:
Turmeric: here’s how it actually measures up to health claims


The main issues with both substances are dosing, formulation and study quality. Turmeric in food is poorly absorbed, which is why supplements often use concentrated extracts or additives to boost absorption. At that point, a culinary spice becomes a pharmacological dose. Higher doses increase the risk of side effects and interactions, and turmeric supplements, which are often concentrated sources of the active compound curcumin, have been linked to cases of acute liver injury. The UK Committee on Toxicity has warned about a potential risk to human health from turmeric and curcumin supplements. “Natural” does not automatically mean safe.

Activated charcoal

Activated charcoal binds substances, which is why it is used in medical settings for certain poisonings. It is non-specific, however, binding whatever is present rather than targeting toxins alone. That makes it useful in emergencies and risky in everyday use. Taking charcoal alongside medication may reduce how much of that medication your body absorbs. Charcoal supplements are not a safe response to suspected poisoning and do not replace medical advice.

Coffee enemas

Coffee, when consumed normally, is associated with better outcomes in several liver diseases and may be protective in some contexts. That evidence does not support putting coffee into the colon.

Enemas can cause burns, infections, dangerous imbalances in the salts your body needs to control nerves, muscles and heart rhythm, and bowel perforation. If you want coffee for potential liver benefits, drink it.

For most healthy people, the best liver support is unglamorous. It means keeping alcohol within recommended limits, avoiding binge patterns, eating a diet rich fibre and fresh fruit and vegetables, staying hydrated and allowing regular rest days from alcohol.

The liver is an extraordinary organ. It detoxifies the body every day without needing a cleanse, a tea or a reset. If you want to support it, focus less on dramatic short-term detox routines and more on reducing repeated strain over time. Consistency beats gimmicks.

And whatever you do this January, do not put coffee where it does not belong.


In the first episode of Strange Health, a new visualised podcast from The Conversation, hosts Katie Edwards and Dan Baumgardt put detox culture under the microscope and ask a simple question: do we actually need to detox at all?

Strange Health explores the weird, surprising and sometimes alarming things our bodies do. Each episode takes a popular health or wellness trend, viral claim or bodily mystery and examines what the evidence really says, with help from researchers who study this stuff for a living.

Katie Edwards, a health and medicine editor at The Conversation and Dan Baumgardt, a GP and lecturer in health and life sciences at the University of Bristol share a longstanding fascination with the body’s improbabilities and limits, plus a healthy scepticism for claims that sound too good to be true.

Strange Health is hosted by Katie Edwards and Dan Baumgardt. The executive producer is Gemma Ware, with video and sound editing by Sikander Khan. Artwork by Alice Mason.

Dan and Katie talk about two social media clips in this episode, one from 30.forever on TikTok and one from velvelle_store on Instagram.

Listen to Strange Health via any of the apps listed above, download it directly via our RSS feed or find out how else to listen here. A transcript is available via the Apple Podcasts or Spotify apps.

The Conversation

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

ref. The truth about detoxes – by a liver specialist – https://theconversation.com/the-truth-about-detoxes-by-a-liver-specialist-272761

Trump’s second term is proving different from his first. This time it’s imperial

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Matthew Mokhefi-Ashton, Lecturer in Politics and International Relations, Nottingham Trent University

The key difference between Donald Trump’s first and second presidencies can be summed up by his two official portraits. The first after his victory in 2016 shows a smiling Trump, probably delighted to have won against the odds and, at least in theory, willing to work with his opponents.

The second shows a more brooding figure glaring into the camera – a man who recognises that a sizeable chunk of the country is never going to like him and does not care. This second image encapsulates what I see as the twin themes of Trump’s second term: revenge and legacy.

In 1973, American political scientist Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr introduced the concept of the “imperial presidency”. He argued that the separation of powers that lies at the heart of US democracy had become overbalanced under the presidency of Richard Nixon in favour of the executive branch.

In response to the Vietnam war and the Watergate scandal, where operatives working for Nixon bugged the Democrat National Committee’s headquarters and he tried to cover it up, Congress reasserted itself. The war powers resolution of 1973, for example, required the president to consult with Congress before committing US armed forces to conflict.

Trump's first presidential portrait.
Trump’s first presidential portrait, taken after his election victory in 2016.
Shealah Craighead / Wikimedia Commons

The Obama administration also shows how effectively a president’s agenda can be derailed when one party puts its mind to it. Republicans blocked Obama’s appointments to the judiciary and significantly watered down his main achievement, the Affordable Care Act.

However, Trump’s second administration has seen the imperial presidency reach its peak. He has wielded this power against his political enemies, whether other politicians, media organisations or foreign governments, more forcefully than at any point during his first presidency.

This has been shown by various legal cases, as well as his threat to sue Paramount over a pre-election interview with rival presidential nominee Kamala Harris on CBS News that Trump felt unduly favoured her. Paramount settled by agreeing to pay US$16 million (£11.9 million) to Trump’s future library.

Trump's second presidential portrait.
Trump’s 2024 presidential portrait.
United States Library of Congress / Wikimedia Commons

It is also striking how much more organised Trump’s second administration has been. There will forever be a debate about whether Trump really expected to win back in 2016, but it’s obvious there had been a lack of planning. This was shown by the disjointed policy agenda and appointments to key positions of people who were either not as loyal as he would have wished or not up to the roll.

Trump’s first national security advisor, Michael Flynn, lasted only 24 days in his post, while communications director Anthony Scaramucci lasted ten. Trump’s government is staffed by ultra-loyalists this time round, including Deputy Chief of Staff Stephen Miller, FBI Director Kash Patel and Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth.

There have still been embarrassing mistakes, including the leak of information about imminent military strikes in Yemen. But Trump’s government has been notably more focused and organised than in his initial presidency.

Miller’s America First Legal Foundation, for example, spent the Biden years creating policy agendas and drafting executive orders. Because of this pre-planning, Trump could appoint his second cabinet much faster than his first and hit the ground running. What followed was a flurry of executive orders and legislation on immigration, federal regulations and the economy.


On January 20 2025, Donald Trump was sworn in as the 47th president of the United States. His first year in office has seen profound changes both in his own country and across the globe. In this series, The Conversation’s international affairs team aims to capture the mood after the first year of Trump’s second coming.


Cementing his legacy

Trump cannot run for the presidency again according to the US constitution, despite his trolling on the subject. While his first presidency was focused on his ultimately failed efforts at reelection, the next three years are all about legacy.

Every US president has actions that can be undone by their successors. In Trump’s case, future Democratic presidents can change the renamed Gulf of America back to the Gulf of Mexico. But Trump’s second term has also seen him aim for seismic changes that cannot be easily reversed.

Chief among these is Greenland. What was initially perhaps a passing fancy to bring the Danish-administered territory under US control has turned into a key pillar of his post-presidency ambitions. If Trump succeeds in making Greenland part of the US, then he will have increased the size of the US’s land possessions by roughly 22%.

It would be difficult for any future president to hand it back without being accused of weakness and ceding territorial gains. Similarly, cementing Venezuela as a client state would reshape regional dynamics in ways that will be difficult to reverse. Appointing himself as chair of the Gaza “peace board” for life again speaks to a man trying to create a permanent legacy.

Another aim is reconfiguring the federal government. This process was started during his first term by reshaping the Supreme Court to give it a conservative majority that, barring accidents or illness, will last over 20 years. Trump has now turned his attention to the rest of the system.

His aim is to appoint judges and administrators that cannot be removed easily by future administrations, cementing his policy agenda on a generation. Trump has repeatedly stated his wish to fire Jerome Powell, the chair of the Federal Reserve, and replace him with someone more in tune with his thinking.

The main obstacle is Congress. Trump’s first term taught him that the much-lauded checks and balances of the US constitution are stronger on paper than in practice. With strength of will, billionaire supporters and a disposition to take legal action, these mechanisms can be circumvented or ignored. But they can slow him down.

This is why the midterm elections in November are so important. If a president’s party holds the House and Senate when they enter office, as was the case for Trump after the 2024 election, they often lose it two years later. And if the Democrats gain control of the House then they can hobble his legislative agenda.

In some ways, Trump’s biggest legacy will be the resurgence of the imperial presidency. He has shown future administrations what can be done if they’re willing to ignore political norms. On many occasions during his first term Trump voiced variations of “nobody has done what I’ve been able to do”. In his second term, he seems set on turning political rhetoric into indisputable fact.

The Conversation

Matthew Mokhefi-Ashton 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. Trump’s second term is proving different from his first. This time it’s imperial – https://theconversation.com/trumps-second-term-is-proving-different-from-his-first-this-time-its-imperial-273712