A little after 2pm on April 8, the Israeli military hit more than 100 targets in Lebanon in just ten minutes. Israel called the attack Operation Eternal Darkness and said it struck Hezbollah command and control centres across Lebanon. The Lebanese government said at least 300 people were killed and 1,000 injured.
The scale of the attack on Lebanon was reminiscent of the early days of the Gaza war in 2023 when Israel retaliated for the October 7 attacks, which killed more more than 1,200 people, with waves of aerial bombardment of Gaza.
Israel has a powerful and lethal army, and it’s been defending itself against attacks from Hamas, Hezbollah and Iran.
But why has it chosen such brutal military aggression?
Peleg, who is a professor of modern Hebrew studies at the University of Cambridge in the UK and author of the book New Hebrews: Making National Culture in Zion, thinks Israel’s view of itself began to change in the wake of the Holocaust. “There started a really problematic combination of defiance, aggression, and a sense of victimhood and it’s a very explosive and lethal combination,” he says.
In this week’s episode of The Conversation Weekly podcast, Peleg tracks how he sees Israel’s self‑image changed from self‑reliance to aggressive militarism, and how that history helps to explain the way it wages war today.
This episode of The Conversation Weekly was written and produced by Gemma Ware and Mend Mariwany. Mixing by Eleanor Brezzi and theme music by Neeta Sarl.
Listen to The Conversation Weekly via any of the apps listed above, download it directly via our RSS feed or find out how else to listen here. A transcript of this episode is available via the Apple Podcasts or Spotify apps.
Yaron Peleg 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.
In parts of Germany and Australia, a surprising thing is happening more and more often: households are being offered free electricity.
This is happening at times of day when there are high levels of energy being generated from solar or wind. It is caused because sometimes more electricity is being produced than people need. Only a limited amount of storage is available and most of it must be used immediately to keep the system stable.
As countries expand use of wind and solar power, these periods when people are not charged for the energy to run their washing machine or kettle will happen more often. When supply exceeds demand, electricity prices can fall sharply, and sometimes drop below zero. Negative electricity prices mean generators pay consumers to use excess electricity, and this has already started to happen in some European countries such as Germany and Spain. In 2024 alone, European power markets recorded over 1,000 hours of negative prices.
The Internationale Energy Agency expects solar capacity to more than double by 2030, making up almost 80% of new electricity worldwide. Renewables are also expected to meet over 90% of global electricity demand by 2030.
Recent data by energy think-tank Ember shows how quickly this shift is happening. In 2025, global low-carbon electricity generation rose by about 887 terawatt-hours, slightly more than the increase in demand. Solar met around 75% of this growth, while solar and wind together met almost all of it.
Paying consumers to use energy
In Australia, this is largely driven by rooftop solar, which produces large amounts of electricity in the middle of the day when household demand is low. In Germany, strong wind and solar output, especially at weekends, can create similar surpluses. These conditions are now occurring frequently enough to affect electricity prices.
The trend is spreading. In South Australia, negative electricity prices accounted for around a quarter of wholesale electricity in both 2023 and 2024. In California, the share of hours with negative pricing rose from about 4% in 2023 to 15% in 2024. Across Europe, countries such as Finland, Sweden, the UK and Germany are all starting to see similar patterns, although the UK is seeing the lowest level of hours with negative pricing compared to these other European nations.
Data from 2025 shows that this trend is continuing. Negative electricity prices are becoming more common, reaching around 6% of hours in countries such as France, Germany and Spain. In Spain, this doubled in 2025, compared with 2024. In France, they rose by almost half, while Germany and the Netherlands saw increase by around a quarter.
These patterns point to a deeper issue: electricity systems are not yet flexible enough to respond to rapid changes in supply, so have to give away energy to be able to cope.
Evidence from Australia shows how this is beginning to change. Negative electricity prices are now common in the middle of the day, when solar output is highest, with prices falling to zero or below for around two to three hours each day on average. At the same time, extreme price spikes are becoming less frequent.
At times when there’s lots of energy supply via solar in Australia electricity prices are being cut. anatoliy_gleb/Shutterstock
But for those on flexible tariffs, electricity can become cheaper or “free” during these periods, and in some cases these lower prices may be reflected in reduced unit costs or small bill credits.
However, not everyone will benefit equally. Households with batteries or smart systems are better placed to take advantage of this trend, as they can store energy to use later in the day, particularly in the evenings when typically use is highest.
This reflects a system that is beginning to adapt. According to the Australian Energy Market Operator, large-scale batteries are playing a growing role by storing electricity when it is abundant and releasing it when demand rises. This helps to smooth price fluctuations and stabilise the system.
Together, these changes mark a shift in how electricity systems operate. Now, as renewable energy generation grows, supply is increasingly shaped by the weather. This means demand must become more flexible in response.
UK policy
This shift is already influencing policy in other countries such as the UK. According to the UK’s National Energy System Operator, from summer 2026 households and businesses will be encouraged to use more electricity during periods of excess supply more often, particularly when solar generation is high and demand is low. The aim is to actively shift when electricity is used, helping to absorb surplus energy and improve system stability.
The timing is not accidental. As part of a shift towards renewables, particularly solar, continues to grow in the UK, for instance, periods of excess supply are becoming more common.
Similar patterns were seen in countries such as Germany, where a rapid surge in solar generation urged a sudden need for greater system flexibility. In the UK, for instance, managing the grid during periods of low demand is becoming more complex, as electricity supply becomes increasingly driven by weather conditions rather than consumption patterns.
This is why flexibility is needed. In extreme cases, large imbalances between supply and demand can place significant strain on electricity systems. 2025’s blackout across Spain and Portugal, shows how quickly instability can happen if systems cannot respond effectively. In the UK, system operators stress that these conditions are actively managed.
Free electricity reflects a deeper shift in how the energy system works. As renewable power grows, excess supply is going to become even more common.
Salma Al Arefi 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.
All sorts of supplements are marketed online as being able to improve symptoms of the menopause.Pixel-Shot/ Shutterstock
Social media is saturated with menopause solutions: powders for brain fog, gummies for sleep or capsules promising hormonal balance. Supplements such as magnesium, lion’s mane, creatine and collagen are being marketed as must-haves for perimenopause and menopause. But how much of this is actually grounded in science?
During perimenopause and menopause, fluctuating and declining oestrogen levels can trigger symptoms such as hot flushes, night sweats, sleep disruption, anxiety, brain fog, joint pain and changes in muscle mass and body composition.
Hormone replacement therapy (HRT) remains the most effective treatment for many symptoms, but not everyone can or wants to use it. This is why alternative remedies attract so much attention.
Magnesium
Magnesium plays a role in more than 300 metabolic processes, including muscle relaxation, nerve signalling and blood pressure regulation. Several menopause-related symptoms overlap with areas where magnesium has effects.
For instance, many menopausal women experience sleep problems. Clinical trials in adults, including older women, show magnesium can improve how fast you fall asleep and reduce insomnia severity.
Anxiety can also be an issue for menopausal women. Meta analyses show magnesium supplements can modestly reduce anxiety symptoms – particularly in people with low magnesium levels. However, this research wasn’t specifically done in menopausal women.
Menopause also places women at higher risk of osteoporosis (weakened bones). As oestrogen levels fall during menopause, certain bone cells become more active, causing bone to be lost faster than it’s rebuilt.
But magnesium contributes to bone density by encouraging the formation of new bone. Given some older women may have low magnesium levels and low bone density, this supplement may help address this menopause-related issue.
However, magnesium has not shown benefit for hot flushes, weight changes or cognitive symptoms.
The type of magnesium you take matters. Magnesium citrate and glycinate tend to be better absorbed by the body, while magnesium oxide is absorbed less efficiently.
It’s also important to note high doses can cause diarrhoea and may affect the heart and nervous system. People with kidney disease should avoid supplementation unless medically supervised.
Lion’s mane mushrooms
Lion’s mane mushroom is promoted to help with brain fog, a common complaint for women going through the menopause.
Animal studies suggest lion’s mane extract may stimulate new brain cell growth and support the hippocampus – the brain structure involved in memory and emotional regulation.
But the small human trials that have been done show mixed results – with only some reporting mood improvements. Importantly, none of these studies involved menopausal women.
If you’re still keen to try the supplement, it’s usually well tolerated – though those with mushroom allergies should avoid it.
Creatine
Although researchers have studied creatine for decades, most of that work has focused on men. But emerging research suggests it has many benefits for women in perimenopause and menopause.
A 14-week study found creatine supplementation significantly increased lower body strength and improved sleep quality in perimenopausal women. These improvements in muscle strength are notable, given the increased risk of sarcopenia (loss of muscle mass and function) during menopause.
However, evidence in post-menopausal women is mixed. One review found creatine may offer minor short-term benefits in post-menopausal women, but sustained supplementation didn’t produce significant muscle or bone health improvements.
Creatine may also support the brain. Growing evidence suggests it may support memory, focus and mood – particularly during periods of hormonal fluctuation or mental fatigue. However, more research is needed specifically in menopausal women.
Perimenopausal women have about a 40% higher risk of developing depressive symptoms or receiving a depression diagnosis than premenopausal women (premenopause is the period before any menopausal changes; perimenopause is the transition phase leading to menopause, when symptoms begin to appear). Some limited data suggests that taking creatine alongside an antidepressant can accelerate symptom improvement in women.
Creatine is generally safe, though those with kidney disease should seek medical advice before taking it.
Collagen
Collagen supplements are widely marketed for skin elasticity, joint health and healthy ageing.
Collagen is the body’s most abundant protein, giving structure to bones, cartilage, tendons, ligaments, muscles and skin. As we age, collagen-producing cells become less active. This contributes to visible skin ageing and weaker bones that are more prone to fracture.
A year-long trial in postmenopausal women found daily collagen supplementation led to small but significant increases in bone mineral density compared with a placebo. This suggests collagen supplements may help counter age-related bone loss in postmenopausal women.
Research also indicates collagen supplements may ease joint discomfort and stiffness, particularly in people with osteoarthritis. This could be relevant for menopausal women as many experience the onset or worsening of joint issues during this time. However, more robust research in needed in menopausal women.
It’s important to note that collagen supplements differ widely due to how they’re produced and the source they come from. This makes the evidence hard to interpret.
This means different products can behave very differently in the body. Grouping them together can therefore obscure important differences in how they work. For instance, hydrolysed collagen is absorbed far more easily than the collagen molecules found in food. This means collagen is more likely to reach tissues where they may support skin, joint and muscle health.
Side effects tend to be minimal, although people with liver or kidney conditions should consult a doctor or pharmacist first.
Final verdict
So, are supplements worth it? Based on the current evidence out there, magnesium and creatine seem to be the most beneficial. However, it’s clear more research is needed. Supplements can also be expensive – and their quality can vary widely.
While supplements can feel empowering, until stronger evidence emerges proving their benefits, a healthy lifestyle remains the best, evidence-based way to navigate perimenopause and menopause.
Dipa Kamdar does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Sophie King-Hill, Associate Professor at the Health Services Management Centre, University of Birmingham
There has been much talk about the sex work storylines in the recent series of the show Euphoria. One of the main characters, Cassie Howard (played by Sydney Sweeney), starts an OnlyFans account to fund her upcoming wedding. In the last two episodes, viewers have watched her create videos for different “audiences”.
In one video, for instance, she dresses up as a dog in a bid to attract those interested in the kink sub genre known as “pup play”. This is a form of fetishistic animal play in which canine traits are adopted through apparel and dog-like behaviours.
In another video, she acts sexually provocative while dressed as a baby with a dummy and pigtails. When explaining why to another character, she says it’s related to a subculture of people who want to dress as babies. She explains people want to see her with “teething rings, bassinets, some people even want to see me wear a diaper”.
This has drawnconcern from viewers over the portrayal and potential normalisation and glamorisation of adult sexual content styled to evoke infancy. As researchers of harmful sexual behaviours and online sexual cultures, we shared their concerns over the scene.
The writer of the show, Sam Levison, has stated that this storyline was intended as a dark satire of the nature of online sexual content. For Euphoria, this is simply part of a shock tactic, nothing more. However, the implications and cultural impact are far more harmful and far-reaching than that.
Warped logic
Cassie’s storyline does highlight a growing normalisation of sexual content that blurs the boundaries of damaging sexual interests and behaviours. However, how it handles this seems to imply that content like Cassie’s is acceptable and even legitimate.
It is important to note that OnlyFans’ acceptable use policy prohibits “illegal activity including actual, claimed, or role-played: exploitation, abuse, or harm of individuals under the age of 18.”
What Cassie is creating is content that sexualises children and young people; she is dressing up as a baby and acting provocatively. In our research, we see some people use warped logic to present their consumption of such content as legitimate. If the content features an adult role-playing as a child, they argue, then it is an acceptable way to indulge their sexual interest. It is not, according to their logic, reflective of harmful sexual interests in children, but a totally separate thing.
However, what researchers have found is that this sort of thinking, and the content that caters to it, confuses the boundary between adulthood and childhood. It also perpetuates, instead of stops, the sexualisation of childhood.
Shows such like Euphoria, especially ones aimed at young people, should have cultural accountability. We know that repeated exposure to these issues reshapes norms around sexuality, power and protection, particularly for young audiences navigating already complex digital environments. So such storylines in mainstream shows like Euphoria do really run the risk of aiding the normalisation and escalation of exploitative viewing practices.
One in 20 children in the UK experiences sexual abuse each year, and there is extensive work being done by charities on prevention, recovery and early intervention. Cultural portrayals that bear no relation to the profound pain, trauma and lifelong impact experienced by survivors run the risk of aestheticising, glamourising or trivialising sexual harm and risks undermining the work.
This storyline must also be understood within a wider socio-cultural context shaped by the exposure to prolonged and systemic sexual exploitation of children by powerful men, most notably through the Jeffrey Epstein case. Epstein’s abuse was enabled not only by individual actions, but by a cultural environment in which sexual access to young people was normalised, aestheticised and shielded by wealth, influence and networks of protection.
In the aftermath of these revelations, public sensitivity to the sexualisation of children and young people has markedly increased, alongside a growing recognition of how harmful sexual interests can be obscured through narratives of consent, glamour or alternative lifestyles. Against this backdrop, Euphoria’s depiction of sexualised infantilisation is especially troubling.
Kieran McCartan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Blane Savage, Lecturer in MA Creative Media Practice, University of the West of Scotland
Joan Eardley was one of the most unique and celebrated artists of her generation, but the international acclaim and recognition that her work deserves eluded her. Her paintings are not only foundational in Scotland’s cultural history, but continue to influence its creative landscape, particularly with those concerning dialogue around community and the poetics of place.
Currently on view in the National Galleries Scotland: Modern Two until June 28, Joan Eardley: The Nature of Painting, explores this popular post-war artist’s relationship to her predecessors and contemporaries.
Joan Kathleen Harding Eardley was born to a Scottish mother and English father in Sussex in 1921, and studied at Blackheath School of Art in London for a year before moving with her mother and sister to Glasgow during the outbreak of the second world war in 1939. She continued her studies at Glasgow School of Art and Hospitalfield in Arbroath, known as Scotland’s first school of fine art.
It was during this time that she began to shape her preference for painting everyday subjects. She used an RSA Carnegie Travelling Scholarship to travel through Italy and France in 1948 and 1949. On her return to Glasgow she spent time drawing and painting the industrial landscape of Port Glasgow, and Gourock. Eardley rented a studio in the city centre of Glasgow, and a few years later moved to Townhead in the east end, where local children became her favourite artistic subjects.
More than 30 of Eardley’s artworks are juxtaposed at Modern Two alongside figures of international renown including Claude Monet, Marc Chagall, John Constable, Jean Dubuffet and Antoni Tàpies, together with her contemporaries Henry Moore, Bet Low and William McTaggart.
It places Eardley within an international art world which blends post-impressionism, social realism and abstraction. Jackson Pollok and the French Tachistes were known to have influenced her practice.
The exhibition is further enriched by a selection of archival and photographic materials containing a range of sketches, photographs and personal artefacts giving a glimpse into the life behind the artworks which are on display in the adjoining Keiller Library.
There are also several of her large works situated in Paolozzi’s Kitchen restaurant adjacent to the two exhibition spaces, alongside the likes of Scottish artist and contemporary Anne Redpath.
Connections with painters
The first exhibition space includes several of Eardley’s social-realist figure depictions of 1950s inner-city Glaswegian children. The works have a joyful, raw, playful spirit to them, in spite of the squalid slum environment the children were living in. No artist has painted Glasgow’s “weans” (a local word for children) in the way that Eardley has.
In Children and Chalked Wall No.3 (1962-63), sisters Mary and Pat Samson are painted in Eardley’s signature bold unsparing style, with their affectionate, endearing smiles, both huddled together. Their cheery faces, animated by Eardley’s blocks of colour, emerge from a background layered with graffiti and collage, anchoring her work in social reality.
Her work is surrounded by portraits by Rembrandt van Rijn, Jean-Francois Millet, Jean Dubuffet, Edward Hornel and Bet Low. Children and Chalked Wall No.3’s highly prized neighbour in the exhibition is Marc Chagall’s The Horse Rider (1949-53), a surreal gouache painted work with a block of azure-blue textured background with three figures and a horse, set within a Paris circus. Like Eardley’s work, it is also social-realist and figurative, with abstract elements incorporated within it. The female horse rider is a recurring theme for Chagall.
Eardley’s Street Kids (1949–51) captures a fleeting moment of camaraderie among three local boys. It is quiet and reflective, telling the stories of real Glasgow children who lived close to Eardley’s studio in Townhead, and captures the friendliness and community spirit that Eardley admired.
She does not shy away from the material conditions of post-war urban life, alluding to poverty, dirt and the presence of neglect. Again, colour is blocked in with minimum detail and repeating patterns of brickwork ground the piece. There is a respect of their resilience in her portraiture.
Exhibition space two is focused on Eardley’s relationship with Catterline, a small coastal village in the north east of Scotland near Stonehaven. In 1954, she bought a cottage to work there. Catterline’s rugged coastal landscapes and dynamic seascapes were central to many of Eardley’s paintings, providing the perfect stage setting for her expressive creativity to flourish.
Eardley worked between Glasgow and Catterline for several years and there are stories during that time of Eardley leaving Glasgow when she heard a storm was coming. Like tornado chasers, she travelled across the country to capture the coming storm’s power on the shore front where she would set up hardboard canvases to paint in its centre amid the lashing wind and rain like a woman possessed.
Her beautiful atmospheric painting Catterline in Winter (1963) set with a grey sky and full moon lighting up the snow-covered landscape is positioned next to Claude Monet’s Grainstacks: Snow Effect (1891). Both have an otherworldly sense about them, evoking a still and silent feeling of deep winter muffled by the frozen earth.
Eardley’s Summer Fields near Catterline (about 1961) with its expressive brushstrokes, shows stalks of corn in a bright golden cornfield set by a grey and black background is the highlight of the show.
She was elected an Academician of the Royal Scottish Academy of Art in 1963, just prior to her untimely passing from cancer later that year aged 42. Eardley’s ashes were scattered on the beach at Catterline, creating a lasting connection between the artist and the place which inspired her later works.
By situating her practice within a collaboration of artistic significance, the exhibition highlights the extent to which her work contributes to the central concerns of 20th-century painting. Not least the tension between representation and abstraction in her work and the enduring challenge of responding to the world, whether urban or elemental.
Joan Eardley: The Nature of Painting is on at the National Galleries Modern Two in Edinburgh until June 28
Blane Savage 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.
Keir Starmer’s decision to fire Foreign Office chief Olly Robbins has contributed to “one of the worst crises in relations” between ministers and civil servants in modern times. The words of former cabinet secretary Gus O’Donnell, writing after Robbins was sacked for declining to inform Starmer that Peter Mandelson failed vetting for his ambassador role, are a stark warning for the prime minister.
Such a crisis has been building for some time. Historically, British civil servants and ministers had a strong bond based on a mutually beneficial partnership. Yet that partnership is badly frayed, and in its place a “them v us” relationship is emerging.
Under the previous Conservative government, ties between ministers and civil servants atrophied. A major source of tension was Brexit, amid frustration that officials were allegedly conspiring to derail Britain’s departure from the European Union.
More uncompromising figures, notably Boris Johnson’s chief strategist Dominic Cummings, believed that the permanent civil service was “an idea for the history books”. In his view, it was time to cut back the permanent bureaucracy, and bring in outsiders to rewire the state. Cummings threatened that a “hard rain” would fall. Ministerial relations with civil servants sank to a new low.
The expectation within Whitehall was that the election of a new government under Starmer would restore order and civility. After all, Starmer was himself a former permanent secretary at the Crown Prosecution Service, who believed in the ethic of public service. The fractured ties between officials and ministers would be repaired.
It has not, so far, worked out that way. In key respects, relationships appear to have deteriorated further. This has now been exacerbated by the summary dismissal of Robbins over the Mandelson affair.
Why do such tensions between officials and ministers in Whitehall persist? A key factor is that civil servants clearly believe they are less equipped to support ministers than they were 20 years ago. This has come up frequently in my interviews and private conversations with current and former civil servants.
Increasingly, the civil service lacks the experience and tools to advise ministers on policy. This problem began in the 1980s, with the rise of new public management – government reforms in several countries emphasising efficiency through markets and competition. Attention shifted towards operational delivery, away from policy-making. There has been a marked loss of intellectual capacity, while some civil servants bemoan the absence of creative policy thinkers in Whitehall.
Another issue is that the civil service appears less willing to look outwards, exacerbating what political scientists Ivor Crewe and Anthony King describe as “operational and cultural disconnect”. Officials in government departments appear more detached than ever from frontline professionals (the so-called “street-level bureaucrats” who manage public services), as well as from citizens and communities.
Who is responsible?
To blame the civil service for the current malaise is surely mistaken. After all, politicians are elected to lead and provide a coherent sense of direction. Civil servants support ministers’ ambitions by faithfully implementing the government’s agenda.
The Starmer administration came to office without a credible governing strategy. Apart from woolly rhetoric about “missions”, incoming ministers had no clear conception of how to strengthen government effectiveness.
A particular gap related to improving performance in public services, notably education, health, criminal justice and public transport. Most governments arrive in Whitehall with instincts about how to achieve change. Some use the central state alongside targets to mandate improvement. Others adopt bottom-up mechanisms including giving citizens more of a voice in shaping public services, while extending choice and competition in the organisation of provision.
Yet Starmer’s ministers appear to have no consistent approach. For example, NHS policy combines top-down directives with exhortation about creating a “community-led” service. The result is widespread confusion. In turn, slowness to deliver change breeds frustration among ministers, leading almost inevitably to attacks on the capability of civil servants, escalating tensions further.
It was the prime minister himself who declared that “too many people in Whitehall are comfortable in the tepid bath of managed decline”, setting the tone for the rest of his government. Yet, inexperienced politicians are naive about the time it takes to secure sustainable improvement.
The dismissal of Robbins appears to be a continuation of the recent era in which ministers treated their relationships with officials with casual disregard. When crises erupt or policies appear to fail, civil servants are made culpable.
Yet such blame games are destructive, not least because they make it harder for civil servants to discharge their essential constitutional function of “speaking truth to power”.
In an atmosphere of growing distrust, officials are less likely to highlight problems in proposed policies. Where career promotion relies on doing what ministers are perceived to want, the risk is that propriety and ethics are negated, having a “chilling effect” on the wider civil service.
A dominant characteristic of civil service reform in recent decades is making officials more “responsive” to ministers. For example, permanent secretaries are employed on time-limited contracts intended to create pressure to perform. Moreover, increasing the contestability of policy advice by turning to political advisers, thinktanks, NGOs and the private sector disrupts the monopoly which civil servants previously held in the policy-making process (although that was always something of a myth).
Such a dynamic increases the pressure on civil servants to comply with what ministers demand. Otherwise, in a more competitive policy landscape, they risk marginalisation. Consequently, the civil service is less likely to fulfil its crucial role in acting as a break on overweening executive power and unchecked authority. That is detrimental to the fulfilment of good government.
Patrick Diamond receives funding from the ESRC as part of the governance and institutions project at the Productivity Institute. He is a former government special adviser, a member of the Labour party and the Fabian Society.
The announcement by the government that a legal ban will be placed on mobile phones in English schools marks a continued shift in tone, if not necessarily in substance, around the control of devices in educational settings.
What is being presented as a decisive intervention into children’s wellbeing is, in practice, the legal amplification of a reality that already exists across most schools. According to research last year by the Children’s Commissioner, around 90% of secondary schools and almost all primary schools already restrict phone use in some form.
These restrictions range from outright bans to locking phones away or “not seen, not heard” approaches (where phones are allowed on school premises, and may be kept in pupils’ bags, but must not be used). The ban will make existing guidance for schools statutory.
This raises an immediate question: if the practice is already widespread, why make it law?
There are, on the surface, reasonable arguments for moving from guidance to legislation. First, this gives school leaders clarity. A statutory footing removes ambiguity and may strengthen schools’ position when challenged by parents.
Second, it provides consistency between schools. A legal requirement creates a baseline expectation across the system, reducing variation between schools.
And finally, there is political signalling. The government is able to demonstrate action on an issue that resonates strongly with public concern.
However, the policy also illustrates a dynamic in education and online safety policy I have written about at length – a move from practice to performance.
If nearly all schools already restrict phones, then the legal change risks being largely symbolic. Sector leaders have acknowledged that “a statutory ban… doesn’t really change very much”.
More critically, it reframes a question of professional judgement as one of compliance. Since 2011, headteachers have had the authority to discipline pupils and set behaviour policies, including banning phones. What changes here is not capability, but the removal of discretion or, arguably, trust in school leadership.
Need for clarity
And, paradoxically but predictably, while the policy may be unnecessary for some, it is insufficient for others. Campaigners and politicians have already criticised the move for potentially retaining flexibility – particularly the “not seen, not heard” model – which they argue fails to meaningfully remove phones from the school day.
Olivia Bailey, parliamentary under-secretary of state in the Department of Education, insisted in the most recent debate that “We are categorically crystal clear that there is no access to phones at any point during the school day”, and that references to “not seen, not heard” approaches had been removed from guidance.
But she also stated: “It is not for me to determine how a headteacher enforces their discipline and behaviour policies in their school.” Therefore, there is a chance a school adopting such an approach might not be challenged without a particularly fastidious Ofsted inspection.
Perhaps the most significant gap in the policy, therefore, is not its intent, but its execution, which has resulted in professionals asking for more guidance. Schools currently use a range of methods: confiscation, lockers, locked pouches, or behavioural rules. These approaches carry costs – financial, logistical, and in how they affect relationships between staff and pupils. Sector leaders have already pointed to the need for funding to support secure storage systems. Enforcement, too, remains ambiguous.
A legal requirement does not eliminate the day-to-day realities of managing compliance. This includes managing pupils concealing devices, disputes with parents, uneven application across staff and varying support from senior leaders around classroom discipline.
Facing pressure
The government had previously resisted calls for a statutory ban, arguing it was unnecessary. The new announcement appears to have been driven less by new evidence and more by political pressure in the House of Lords and from campaign groups.
There is a broader cultural push toward restriction, whether school phone bans or proposals for wider social media limits. Some countries have already put social media bans in place, although their effectiveness remains to be seen.
Banning phones in classrooms is not, in itself, particularly controversial. Many schools have done so for years with little fuss. What is new is not the ban, but the decision to legislate it.
That shift tells us less about phones and more about the current policy climate: one in which guidance becomes law, discretion becomes compliance, and familiar practices are recast as solutions to increasingly expansive problems.
Andy Phippen 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.
Duolingo recently revealed a seemingly genius trick to assess candidates for a senior position. Hiring managers at the language-learning app read applications and cover letters, scheduled phone interviews and asked all the usual questions about skills and ambitions. But they also found out about how the candidates behaved in the taxi ride to the interview – and it cost one candidate a senior position.
The idea behind the recruitment approach is that if someone is rude to a taxi driver, they might be rude at work – especially to those who are junior to them. In the Duolingo case, the candidate ticked lots of boxes for the role. But when the company heard how they treated the driver, the candidate wasn’t offered the job.
This resonates with research that found that people will work hard to make a good impression in a job interview and that these efforts can mask what they are genuinely like.
After all, most people can avoid being rude in a one-off, high-stakes situation. But being friendly at all times can probably only be achieved by those who are genuinely warm people. By assessing people when they are not aware they are being monitored, Duolingo hoped to filter out the truly friendly from those who work hard to fake it.
Duolingo is not the first company to come up with the idea of looking at candidates’ behaviour outside the interview room. Companies look at prospective employees’ social media for exactly the same reason. People might reveal more of their true selves on social media when they don’t know they are being watched by potential employers.
But from the candidate’s perspective, there are several issues with Duolingo’s taxi driver test. First, it may not be ethical to use behaviour to make a hiring decision that is outside of the candidate’s consent.
Second, it is unclear what a taxi driver is evaluating when they judge a passenger’s behaviour. Maybe someone is nervous about the interview or is stressed because getting to the interview on time on top of their other responsibilities made them rush. Under these circumstances, candidates might seem less friendly than they otherwise would be.
Other candidates might prefer to quietly review their interview notes instead of chatting with the driver. Again, this does not signal a rude person – maybe just an introverted one.
Fake only goes so far
But still, are behaviour tests like these a good idea in principle for a hiring manager?
Research suggests that Duolingo might be going overboard in its efforts to detect those who are faking being friendly to make a good impression. Although people have been shown to use a variety of strategies to impress in job interviews and beyond (flattery or “humblebragging”, for example), my research has found that many of these tactics are not particularly effective.
This is because people can generally see through insincere efforts to make a good impression. For example, people often forget that in job interviews, discussing their hard work will make them relatable and increase their job prospects. This is because people like to discuss their talents and achievements to make themselves seem competent, but they forget that success usually comes from hard work as well. Discussing it actually makes their success stories seem more sincere and relatable.
And the same is true for thanking others and asking the interviewer questions. If a candidate mainly brags about themselves and treats the conversation as a one-way street, no taxi driver test is needed to identify them as a poor candidate.
People are generally not savvy self-presenters who can fake a good impression consistently. A regular job interview with an experienced hiring manager who can ask about the skills they would bring to the organisation should be enough to identify those who just fake being friendly.
As clever as the taxi driver test sounds, a coffee and a chat with the candidate can probably reveal more crucial information to make sure the right person is hired.
Janina Steinmetz does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Martin Lang, Senior Lecturer and Programme Leader in Fine Art , University of Lincoln
The shortlist for the Turner prize 2026 brings together four artists whose practices are firmly rooted in sculpture and installation. Their work, in diverse ways, tests how material form can carry political, ecological and symbolic meaning.
This year’s Turner prize jury (chaired by Alex Farquharson, director of Tate Britain) is composed of Sarah Allen (South London Gallery), Joe Hill (Yorkshire Sculpture Park), Sook-Kyung Lee (The Whitworth) and Alona Pardo (Arts Council Collection). They praised the shortlisted artists for their material intelligence and their capacity to link sculptural language to wider systems of power, memory and belief. Here is a round up of this year’s shortlisted artists.
Simeon Barclay: performance, place and British ruin
Simeon Barclay is nominated for The Ruin, shown at the Institute of Contemporary Arts (ICA), London in January 2025 and later at the Hepworth Wakefield in Yorkshire. His work combines performance, sculptural installation, spoken word and live brass music. This combination nods obliquely to the industrial and musical traditions of his Yorkshire upbringing.
Barclay’s practice frequently returns to British national identity as something shaped by labour, landscape and decay. In The Ruin, industrial materials become resonant rather than merely symbolic: scaffolding, sound and breath are choreographed to produce an atmosphere that feels both ceremonial and unstable. The presence of brass instruments (historically tied to civic pride and working-class culture) introduces a solemnity that is repeatedly undermined by fragmentation and collapse.
Barclay’s work stages Britishness as something assembled and disassembled in real time. Spoken language slips between declaration and hesitation, while the sculptural setting refuses to settle into monumentality. It is a practice less concerned with nostalgia than with the ways national identity is continually rehearsed, strained and repaired.
Marguerite Humeau: sculpting belief systems
Marguerite Humeau is nominated for Orisons (2023), originally produced for the Black Cube Nomadic Art Museum, and for her subsequent exhibition Torches at ARKEN Museum in Denmark. Her contribution to the shortlist brings an overtly speculative dimension into dialogue with sculpture.
Humeau’s work often begins with research into non-human intelligence and biological communication systems. In Orisons, a large-scale sculptural elephant emerges as a central figure. However, it is not as an image of wildlife, but a stand-in for matriarchal knowledge and collective memory. Elsewhere in her practice, attention shifts dramatically in scale, from insects and wasps to ecosystems that exceed human comprehension.
The jury highlighted Humeau’s “cinematic” approach, and this is apt. Her installations are immersive, carefully lit and choreographed, producing a sense of narrative without storyline. Yet the work resists being pinned down. Instead, sculpture becomes a speculative tool for imagining belief systems that sit outside rationality: an attempt to materialise what cannot be directly known, only inferred.
Kira Freije: softness, armour and the human figure
Kira Freije is nominated for Unspeak the Chorus, her exhibition at the Hepworth Wakefield in Yorkshire. Her sculptures take the form of life-size hybrid beings – part animal, part human, part automaton – constructed from fabric, metal and aluminium casts taken from her body and the faces of people close to her.
Freije’s work consistently plays hardness against softness. Industrial materials such as aluminium are used not for rigidity, but for their capacity to receive impressions through casting. The results are surfaces that appear armoured yet vulnerable. Faces emerge as partial traces, embedded within bodies that refuse stable identity categories.
These figures don’t dominate space so much as inhabit it uneasily. Suspended between animation and stillness, they suggest forms of collectivity that are fragile, negotiated and embodied. The jury noted her transformation of everyday and industrial materials, but it is the emotional economy of the work – its careful calibration of exposure and defence – that gives it weight.
Tanoa Sasraku: sculpture and petro-politics
Tanoa Sasraku completes the shortlist with Morale Patch, exhibited at the ICA in 2025. Her work looks at oil as a system of power, examining how petro-politics shapes corporate identity, military culture and national symbolism.
In Morale Patch, Sasraku disrupts minimalist sculptural grids by inserting objects laden with meaning: paperweights awarded to mark milestones in oil extraction, flags mounted on crates that evoke pallets or coffins, and repeated references to military terminology. The title points to the symbolic language used to maintain cohesion within structures of extraction and violence.
Sasraku juxtaposes American and Scottish flags, drawing attention to unexpected national entanglements within global energy systems. Sculpture here operates as a critical inventory, cataloguing how abstract economic forces find expression in objects designed to reassure, reward or commemorate.
Sculpture and the institutions that shape it
This year’s prize arrives at a moment when sculpture, funding structures and art education are becoming unusually entangled. For the first time, the prize will be hosted within a university setting, Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art (known as MIMA, part of Teesside University). The Turner prize is run by Tate, an Arts Council England (ACE) National Portfolio Organisation (NPO) – as is MIMA. This means that ACE funds a national prize presented in an ACE-funded space, which also functions as a teaching and research environment.
In recent years, there have been clear connections between funding and nomination with some shortlisted artists holding NPO status. This is a pattern that my research has identified as part of the wider instrumentalisation of British art funding.
Then there are the concerns raised by the Independent Review of Arts Council England’s critical assessment of ACE’s increasing institutionalisation and its sidelining of artistic quality.
Together, these issues raise questions about how closely programming, funding frameworks and art education may begin to mirror one another. Universities, some of which are NPOs or host NPO-adjacent arts centres (as we do at the University of Lincoln), risk reproducing rather than challenging dominant artistic norms.
Yet this year’s shortlist complicates that concern. It’s notably strong on artistic grounds, driven less by identity-led rationales than by a renewed commitment to sculpture as a way of thinking about power, ecology and belief.
Marguerite Humeau stands out as a possible winner. Her work exemplifies a post-postmodern sensibility shaped by new materialist thought: sculpture no longer represents the world so much as participates in it, modelling forms of non-human intelligence and agency through matter itself.
Humeau’s ability to combine speculative research with rigorous fabrication gives her work both intellectual ambition and genuine aesthetic appeal. These are qualities that suggest the Turner Prize, for all its institutional entanglements, still has the capacity to reward artistic excellence.
Martin Lang does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Lukas Slothuus, Postdoctoral Research Fellow, School of Global Studies, University of Sussex
Greta Thunberg and fellow climate activists demonstrating outside the Swedish parliament in 2019.Liv Oeian/Shutterstock
In 2022, Sweden took a rare step: the country banned all fossil fuel production.
The quirk is that Sweden has never actually produced any fossil fuels. So why would a country with no fossil fuel production decide to ban such production?
In a newly published study, I explain the curious case of this ban – and how it boosted Sweden’s reputation as a global leader on climate issues.
Sweden is often praised for its ambitious climate policies and fast reductions in climate-damaging emissions. Its former centre-left government decided to ban all exploration and extraction of coal, oil and gas just a year after its neighbouring oil and gas producer, Denmark, had done so. This was part of a growing international effort to phase out the supply of fossil fuels.
My research into the Swedish government’s ban comes as more than 50 nations attend a major initiative to develop a roadmap for phasing out fossil fuels, hosted by the Colombian government. I interviewed 17 high-profile people in Swedish climate politics, including some of the main architects of the ban.
I found that a single driver can play a decisive role. The ban was largely the result of a concerted effort by the Green party, which had campaigned on this issue for several years and already included it in its national election manifesto in 2014.
The Green party called on the Swedish Geological Survey to conduct a study on the potential effects of a ban, which provided the necessary scientific basis. It then used its proposal as a bargaining chip in negotiations with the Social Democrats, when forming a coalition government after the 2018 election.
That study showed how much easier it is to implement new climate policy when there is no strong fossil fuel industry and associated lobbying. And because the government had already banned uranium mining in Sweden in an attempt to make future nuclear power production more difficult, it had a blueprint for how to ban fossil fuel extraction.
The ban was mostly symbolic – but it may also have helped prevent future fossil fuel production in Sweden. Technological advances and exploding oil and gas prices can make previously untenable resources attractive to exploit. That would, of course, have harmful consequences for the climate, so the ban does have a material dimension.
In contributing to global momentum against fossil fuels, the ban bolstered Sweden’s reputation as a leading country in climate negotiations. This proved important: several of my interviewees pointed out how Sweden was able to push the EU toward a more ambitious position in its Fit For 55 climate package – a set of laws aiming to cut the EU’s emissions by 55% by 2030 – in part due to the respect the country commands from others on decarbonisation.
Following the ban, Sweden also joined the Beyond Oil and Gas Alliance of like-minded countries and regions working to encourage other countries to join the global movement for a phaseout.
Located on Colombia’s sun-kissed Caribbean coast, Santa Marta is at the heart of the country’s vast coal industry. As one of the world’s largest coal exporting countries, as well as a major oil and gas producer, the symbolism is clear: Colombia is not just talking the talk but walking the walk.
More than 50 countries including the UK, Brazil and Norway are gathering to agree a roadmap for the transition away from fossil fuels. This comes only months after the UN’s climate summit Cop30 in Brazil, where nations failed to agree to end reliance on fossil fuels and negotiations faltered in the face of powerful fossil fuel lobbying.
The first Transitioning Away from Fossil Fuels Conference takes place in Santa Marta on the Colombian coast. Jhampier Giron M/Shutterstock
Rather than let laggards like the US or Saudi Arabia obstruct negotiations, this conference brings together a “coalition of the willing”. Ahead of it, experts are laying the scientific and academic foundations for the political need for a phaseout. My colleagues and I are presenting our research into the failures and successes of first-moving countries trying to phase out fossil fuel production.
The following questions will be at the heart of discussions in Colombia.
What kind of financing do developing countries need to phase out their production and consumption of fossil fuels? How can the legal obstacles be overcome? What does a just, equitable and fair phaseout look like? And crucially, what can be learned from existing attempts to phase out fossil fuels?
In Sweden, climate policies have been gradually rolled back by its current rightwing government, which is not sending any representatives to Santa Marta. Yet the fossil fuel ban still stands.
Sweden’s ban did not lead to any direct reduction in global fossil fuel production. But it did name the problem and show the way for other countries. It provided an alternative pathway where future investment goes into renewables and green technologies, rather than climate-damaging energy sources.
Now it’s up to the countries attending the Santa Marta conference to make further progress on this long, difficult path to transitioning away from fossil fuels.
Lukas Slothuus receives funding from the Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council.
