Category: The Conversation – UK

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Ursula F Ott, Professor of International Business, Nottingham Trent University

It is now almost a decade since the UK voted for Brexit and since the tariffs of US president Donald Trump’s first term increased global trade frictions. Brexit removed the UK from the European single market for goods and services. Now though, the country is proposing a pivot back towards alignment with EU regulations.

What could have not been widely predicted back in 2016 was the COVID pandemic, nor a war on European soil. The UK has been exposed to these shocks without the EU support system. So what may once have been impossible to imagine is now on the cards: adopting EU single market rules under new UK legislation.

In May 2025, the UK and EU reached a new trade agreement, paving the way for both sides to move closer on their economies and business. This was hastened by unpredictable US trade tariffs and a weakening of the US-UK-EU relationship. In addition, it has been estimated in a comprehensive study that Brexit has reduced the size of the UK economy by 6-8%.

Politically, the approach announced by the UK prime minister, Keir Starmer, is a courageous step. UK legislation would allow the country to adopt new EU laws without the need for parliament to vote each time. But any plan is certain to provoke strong opposition from the Conservatives and Reform UK.

However, it is a signal of the seriousness of the UK’s intentions to move closer to the EU by adapting to its regulations and giving up independence from EU law. That is a costly move for the UK in terms of its credibility, but the U-turn should reinforce its commitment to the EU.

But beyond this, there are three clear benefits to the UK.

1. The EU is built on rules and regulations that guide the bloc’s labour market, trade and security systems. Alignment would clearly help UK businesses, consumers and individual workers to manoeuvre within these systems.

2. By breaking from the single market, the UK chose a costlier approach to trading and investing across the EU border. Aligning regulations would reduce cross-border bureaucracy.

3. The EU is looking for new trading partners after supply chain disruptions from COVID and the Ukraine war – not to mention the current impact on oil and gas supplies. The EU does not need to rely on the UK, but a new direction in the relationship could reduce the threat of supply chain disruption in future.

A better deal for consumers?

So what could this mean for UK businesses and consumers? Food producers trading within the UK-EU zone would have a quicker turnaround of their fresh produce. This would reach shop shelves in the UK and EU more quickly, giving shoppers better-quality fresh foods.

Reducing the amount of complex paperwork and export health certificates at borders would allow a free flow of fresh food even between Great Britain and Northern Ireland (which remained part of the single market). This trade has been disrupted since Brexit and affects both trade between food producers due to paperwork and border delays, and food security.

Border checks, paperwork and adapting to legal requirements are expensive and so increase food prices (and with that, inflation). Bringing trade between the EU and the UK closer could reduce these costs, and should also allow producers to benefit more from global value chains.

US tariffs are at their highest levels since the second world war, and the knock-on cost effects of supply chain disruption in the Middle East make a strong case for strengthening ties between neighbours.

Going forward, it will be resilience rather than efficiency in trade that will be important for both businesses and nations. Both will want to be able to reconfigure networks at speed. If inflation rises due to product shortages, governments have limited fiscal space to offer direct support to citizens (which would mean increased levels of spending), or to cut taxes.

Another benefit could come in the form of foreign direct investment into the UK from overseas. In 2025, this began shifting from low-cost developing countries towards capital-intensive and technologically-driven investments in developed countries – and especially in the EU (Germany, Italy and France).

Alignment with EU regulation could give investors more confidence to commit to the UK. Foreign direct investment in renewable energy and AI products, for example, would benefit both the UK’s workers and its consumers.

This is a time of new geopolitical alliances, cooperation and blocs. Trading and investment options could help secure economic, political and societal stability in a volatile world. So far, this is a relatively small step by the UK – but starting to align to EU regulations could ease a complex relationship.

Ursula F Ott 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. With talk of closer EU alignment, the UK is signalling to Europe that it’s a partner worthy of trust – https://theconversation.com/with-talk-of-closer-eu-alignment-the-uk-is-signalling-to-europe-that-its-a-partner-worthy-of-trust-280961

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Mark Rawlinson, Associate Professor History of Art, University of Nottingham

Marking the 80th anniversary of the end of the second world war, Our Freedom: Then and Now is a nationwide photography project exploring how communities understand freedom.

The show opened at London’s Southbank Centre in April and is now touring the UK. This exhibition offers an alternative perspective to the idea that this is currently a nation divided. From the Highlands of Scotland to libraries in southwest England, it asks a simple yet powerful question: what did freedom mean in 1945, and what does it mean now?

The Socially Engaged Photography Network sent 22 photographers to work closely with community projects, ensuring the photographs were created in collaboration with participants. This approach is distinct from traditional photojournalism, which often speaks about rather than with the people photographed.

By spending time in places such as Maesteg Town Hall and libraries in Stornoway, artists including Johannah Churchill, Sam Ivin and Leticia Valverdes have focused on making photographs that portray the viewpoints of the people involved.

Projects marking the 80th anniversary of the end of the second world war can easily lapse into cliche, but Our Freedom: Then and Now avoids sentimentality. In fact, part of its power lies in engaging with the complexities of contemporary society and culture. It avoids simple slogans and instead the photographs foreground thoughtful reflections on conflict and the ongoing importance of finding common ground and sustaining connection.

As Stephanie Peacock, the UK’s minister for sport, tourism, civil society and youth, said at the launch, the project comes at an important time. With fewer people having direct memories of the war, sharing their reminiscences alongside the voices of schoolchildren and young artists creates a conversation between those who remember 1945 and those who will shape 2045.

This exchange fosters two forms of understanding: participants learn about themselves, and viewers learn about others. According to Simon Mellor, Arts Council England’s deputy chief-executive, these works bring local experiences into national conversations, offering a valuable space for dialogue in difficult times.

This was certainly my experience. I left the gallery surprised by the many ways freedom is experienced and understood across the UK. Whether it’s a veteran in Wolverhampton or a student in Hartlepool, the cumulative effect of individuals’ thoughts about freedom and community was fascinating and thought-provoking.

The exhibition is grounded by poet laureate Simon Armitage’s specially commissioned poem, Freedom Road. Echoing the participant photographs, the poem shifts its focus from grand images of liberation to the simple, everyday actions that make up real freedom. He writes:

You can’t dig up freedom like a potato

from the verges of Freedom Way, or pan it

from Freedom Beck like inklings of gold;

it won’t be delivered to Freedom Avenue

gift-wrapped in silver string.

Armitage suggests that freedom is most real when it goes unnoticed, such as the ability to disagree with a neighbour, walk where we want, and live as we choose. This idea aligns with the exhibition’s main goal: to show that freedom is something we live every day – not just a piece of history to remember now and then, but something current and vital.

The exhibition on tour

The exhibition’s tour is as ambitious as the work itself. After starting at the Southbank Centre, it travels to places like Eden Court in Inverness, the McKechnie Institute in South Ayrshire and the Strand Arts Centre in Belfast, bringing the art back to the communities that helped create it.

This return is important because it shows that art doesn’t just happen in big cities; it grows from local libraries and community centres and derives its power from these regional identities. In 2025, more than 530,000 people took part in the events and performances leading up to this exhibition.

By steering clear of easy sentimentality, Our Freedom: Then and Now does something more meaningful. It offers an honest look at how we live together. The exhibition recognises the difficult parts of our shared histories while reminding us of our shared humanity.

In a nation that can feel divided, Our Freedom: Then and Now uses photography to highlight what people have in common and where we might work harder to find those commonalities. It’s a reminder that, even though freedom requires work, it is not only worth it but necessary.

Mark Rawlinson 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. Our Freedom: Then and Now explores what freedom means to Brits, 80 years after the second world war – https://theconversation.com/our-freedom-then-and-now-explores-what-freedom-means-to-brits-80-years-after-the-second-world-war-280955

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Andreas Krieg, Associate Professor, Defence Studies Department, King’s College London

Following the last round of talks between the United States and Iran in Islamabad, Iran’s foreign minister and negotiator Abbas Araghchi declared in a post on X on April 17 that the Strait of Hormuz was “completely open”. This came after he also signalled that his government could be flexible over the issue of nuclear enrichment as well as Iran’s support for its proxies in the region.

Then came an abrupt correction. Mohammad Bagher Zolghadr, a former commander in the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps (IRGC) who was recently appointed as secretary of the Supreme National Security Council, is understood to have complained to the IRGC, submitting a report that criticised Araghchi for “deviation from the delegation’s mandate”.

The negotiating team was called back to Tehran. Araghchi was attacked by state-run media which said his post had “provided the best opportunity for Trump to go beyond reality, declare himself the winner of the war and celebrate victory.” And the Strait of Hormuz was declared closed.

This episode demonstrates the new reality in the Islamic Republic, where the IRGC increasingly calls the shots in all matters of statecraft and government. The rest of the state is a façade at most.

Over the six weeks of war, Iran’s former leadership has been decimated: the supreme leader, Ali Khamenei, was killed in a US strike on the first day of US and Israeli attacks. Many of his senior colleagues have also been killed. Iran is no longer best understood as a state with a powerful militia. It has become, more precisely, a powerful militia with a state – a political order with the IRGC at its core.

The other traditional centres of power – the government and the clergy – have effectively been relegated to mere front organisations. Amid the fog of war, even the new supreme leader, Mojtaba Khamenei, appears merely as a legitimising ornament. In any case, Khamenei is reported to have been severely injured in the attack that killed his father and is apparently taking no part in government.

So who is running the country? The answer points unmistakably to the IRGC and its leader, Ahmad Vahidi.

Guardians of the revolution

The IRGC was created after the 1979 revolution, precisely because Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini and his allies did not trust the conventional state apparatus to defend the revolution. Over time it grew beyond its role as guardians of the revolution into an all-encompassing, all-channel network. It became a military, an intelligence service, an economic conglomerate and a regional expeditionary network. Its internal security force, the Basij, gave it an arm of mass social control inside Iran. The Quds force was set up to export the revolution across Iran’s proxies in Lebanon, Iraq, Syria, Yemen and beyond.

Far from destroying this architecture, sanctions deepened it. They led to the creation of front companies linked to the IRGC doing illicit deals and operating circuits of patronage that enriched those closest to the centre of power. What emerged was a parallel state that gradually outgrew the formal one.

The IRGC is organised as a network with a core and a periphery. Its central hub decides strategy. This is surrounded by a network of decentralised cells capable of operating with a high degree of autonomy. This is called Iran’s “mosaic defence doctrine”. And it was built to operate precisely the way it is now: to keep fighting amid attempts at decapitation and disruption.

A new leader emerges

After IRGC chief Mohammad Pakpour was killed on the opening day of the conflict, Ahmad Vahidi, a former interior minister and a founding member of the IRGC, has emerged to take his place. After being appointed in an emergency capacity after his predecessor was killed, he has consolidated effective control as the civilian presidency has been hollowed out.

With the new supreme leader apparently incapacitated and the clergy sidelined, Vahidi and his group of allies – IRGC commanders and security council hardliners such as Ali Akbar Ahmadian and Mohammad Bagher Zolghadr – have set the mandate and red lines for the ceasefire talks.

The IRGC’s red lines are clear: it will not surrender uranium enrichment altogether; it wants to preserve its missile program and the axis of resistance; it wants sanctions to lifted and access to Iranian assets overseas that are presently frozen. Room for negotiation only exists on technical details about enrichment levels, timelines for lifting sanctions or the language of any deals that are agreed.

In times of war, states tend to centralise as civilian institutions shrink. Hard men tend to rise, especially after many of the influential political pragmatists, such as Ali Larijani, the former secretary of the security council, were deliberately taken out by Israel.

The IRGC was not suddenly conjured by this war, but prepared by decades of institutional entrenchment, economic capture and delegated coercion. The IRGC’s military dictatorship in the making needed this war to consolidate its influence over competing nodes in the network – most importantly the clergy.

This has profound consequences for the negotiations. Instead of being straightforward bargaining between statesmen, Washington’s real estate moguls turned negotiators are speaking to Iranian counterparts who are on a short lead held by the IRGC. Progress in negotiations should not be judged by what Iran’s diplomats say in public, but by what the guard allows to be implemented in practice.

Trump and Israel’s failed decapitation strategy leaves a potent system in place that feels emboldened by the desperation in the White House to find a diplomatic off-ramp. To think that this war-hardened system of hardliners will capitulate is wishful thinking.

The past few days have made it clear that the IRGC is now a militia with a state using the civic and military institutions of the Islamic Republic as its outer skin. While there is room for negotiation to build a mutually acceptable deal, the US administration needs to be realistic about where the IRGC’s red lines are and what card it actually has to play against a resilient network with a very high threshold for pain.

Andreas Krieg 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. Who is calling the shots in Iran? – https://theconversation.com/who-is-calling-the-shots-in-iran-281066

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Elizabeth Stanway, Reader in Astronomy and Astrophysics, University of Warwick

Dan Dare: Pilot of the Future was a groundbreaking science fiction comic serial, first appearing in the UK comic The Eagle in 1950. Now, more than 75 years later, a reinvention of the series is underway, with the first new graphic novel written by Alex de Campi (Bad Girls and Madi) with art by Marc Laming (Marvel’s Star Wars). set for later this year.

As science fiction enthusiast and a scientist, I am excited to see what it will be like. I’m sure I’m not alone, as a number of scientists – including the late astrophysicist and cosmologist
Stephen Hawking and planetary scientist Colin Pillinger – cited Dan Dare’s exciting vision of the future as instrumental in their decision to pursue science.

Daniel McGregor Dare is an officer in the Britain-based Interplanet Space Force (ISF). Faced with overpopulation and starvation on Earth, the ISF is tasked with exploring the possibility of crop production or trade on Venus. After initial problems, Dan Dare and a small group of colleagues are able to reach the surface of the planet. Once there, they find a habitable world with two native species: the friendly Therons, and the inimical Treens, with the latter led by their “super-scientist” the Mekon. Defeating the Mekon, and making arrangements for food supply with the Therons, Dare opens up the solar system, and ultimately the wider galaxy, to humanity.

While the concept of Dan Dare originated with a clergyman, Marcus Morris, its formative years and storylines were shaped by a very different man. Writer and artist Frank Hampson was known for the attention he paid to the science, working from detailed models and reference photographs. He gave thought to plausible design and stayed abreast of developing vehicle technologies and concepts, while also working with a scientific advisor.

In an early story, “The Red Moon Mystery” (serialised in The Eagle in 1952), for instance, he had the character Professor Peabody explain planetary orbits, magnetic fields and spectroscopic biosignatures to a young audience. He also drew a sequence with accurate representations of the Royal Observatory at Herstmonceux in Sussex, and a character closely based on the astronomer royal of the time, Sir Harold Spencer Jones.

This level of precision both added to the verisimilitude of his stories and appealed to an enthusiastic audience that saw a bright future in space exploration, an audience that included budding scientists Hawking and Pillinger.

Sadly, the level of scientific accuracy in the series declined after Hampson’s departure, with writers introducing more bizarre aliens and unexplained interstellar travel. But its engagement, from the very beginning, with technical accuracy and scientific plausibility, continues in many ways and is also part of the reason for its longevity and why it remains relevant.

A new Dan Dare

Despite its many reinventions over the decades, much of this premise has remained unchanged. Dare has always represented humanity’s best, and is typically shown as an optimistic exemplar of bravery, chivalry and honour. The Kickstarter page for the new Dan Dare: First Contact novel makes it clear that the current creative team respects the character’s origins. As the new reboot’s writer Alex de Campi says:

if you are already a Dan Dare fan, there’s a ton of references to the classic stories as well as a sincere respect for Frank Hampson’s legacy from our entire creative team.

But like the 1990s graphic novel written by Scottish comic writer Grant Morrison or the 2010s audio dramas made by B7 Productions, there will be some changes in the story. For instance, these iterations have given more agency to Dare’s female scientist colleague Professor Jocelyn Peabody. They have also typically been darker and more cynical regarding the political or commercial interests funding human spaceflight.

The new Dan Dare team also acknowledge Hampson would have expected changes in scientific and contextual representation:

In First Contact, the science is updated, making Dan’s world one we can understand from our current point of view: a world of bickering oligarchs, broken nations, and climate disaster. The stakes are immediate: humanity is only just getting faster-than-light travel.

As I’ve discussed in my own work on the relationship between science and science fiction, the stories have always reflected our changing understanding of solar system habitability. Already by 1950, scientific studies were making it clear that Venus was uninhabitable, although popular culture and even school textbooks often retained the older visions. As a result, more recent versions have tended to gloss over issues such as the origin of the Treens, sometimes relocating their civilisation to cloud cities high in the atmosphere of Venus.

The changing science shouldn’t be a surprise: the role of science fiction has always been to mirror and extrapolate as much from the sociopolitical concerns of a time as from its technology and science. Good science fiction has always balanced accurate science with fine storytelling and a critical eye towards social trends and their logical extremes. The new Dan Dare project will do so for a new audience, adding to a remarkable eight-decade long record of popular engagement with space science.

Elizabeth Stanway 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. Dan Dare is blasting off again: why, as a scientist, I’m excited for the comics’ return – https://theconversation.com/dan-dare-is-blasting-off-again-why-as-a-scientist-im-excited-for-the-comics-return-281053

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Lou Harvey, Associate Professor of Education, University of Leeds

The idea of the “autism spectrum” is widely used in diagnosis, education and public discussion. First developed by the psychiatrist Lorna Wing in the 1980s, the term was intended to reflect the wide range of autistic experiences and needs.

But a growing body of research is questioning whether the concept still helps us understand autistic lives.

We are autistic researchers of communication, education and neurodiversity. Our research focuses on paying attention to how people express knowledge and experience when communication does not fit mainstream expectations, particularly when it goes beyond spoken language.

Across this work, one finding is consistent: both autistic and non-autistic people communicate meaningfully in various ways. But this variety is often overlooked or misunderstood by traditional models of autism.

These models tend to come from cognitive science and clinical practice, where autism is defined primarily as a communication “disorder”. They suggest that autistic people have difficulty speaking, maintaining eye contact, or engaging in back-and-forth conversation.

Diagnosis is typically based on external observation by doctors, rather than on autistic people’s own accounts of their experience.

When different perspectives are dismissed

Critics argue that this approach reflects what is known as “neuronormativity”. This is the belief that there is a standard or “normal” way to communicate, think and behave. It is rooted in an assumption that language, especially speech, is what makes us fully human. Therefore, when people communicate differently, their knowledge can be treated as less valid or harder to access.

Autistic scholar M. Remi Yergeau has argued that autism has often been framed as a “narrative condition” by cognitive scientists. In other words, it is assumed that autistic people are unable to express meaningful self-knowledge.

If someone’s way of communicating is already judged incoherent or unintelligible, their perspective can easily be dismissed. This means autistic people are not considered to be reliable sources of knowledge about their own lives.

Our research, and that of other autistic scholars, challenges this assumption.

Communication is more than words

There is increasing evidence that autistic people express themselves in a wide range of ways that are not always recognised as communication. Chris’s research, for example, shows how autistic people often communicate through deep engagement with particular interests. These interests can be a way of expressing identity, connection and meaning, rather than simply being a “symptom”.

Many autistic people also use rhythmic or repeated movement and sound – often referred to as “stimming” – or repetition of words and phrases, known as echolalia. These forms of expression can communicate comfort, distress, humour, joy or focus. They can also provide sensory regulation or pleasure. They may not fit conventional ideas of language, but they are meaningful.

However, because of the deeply ingrained belief that “real” communication must be verbal, these forms of expression have received little attention within mainstream science. Yet they point to something important: communication and knowledge are not just about words. They are also about feeling, and the things we cannot say.

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Read more:
What autistic people – and those with ADHD and dyslexia – really think about the word ‘neurodiversity’

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Research by the neuroscientist Antonio Damasio has shown that emotion is not separate from thinking but fundamental to it. Feelings shape attention, decision-making and understanding. In this sense, feeling is part of how we know the world. If we are to take people’s knowledge about themselves seriously, we must pay attention to it.

Our research builds on this idea, showing that communication and knowledge are not limited to what can be clearly spoken or measured.

From diagnosis to paying attention

Clinical diagnosis remains necessary because it enables access to support and services. But diagnosis alone may not fully capture how autistic people experience and communicate their needs.

We suggest a shift in emphasis. Rather than asking, “What is wrong with this person?” we may ask, “How can we pay attention to this person?”

Paying attention means taking feeling seriously as a way of knowing and recognising that language has limits. Research by Lou and colleagues has found that when spoken language is not available or not sufficient, other forms of interaction – such as art, play, care and simply being with others – can become more meaningful. These forms of communication are often harder to observe or measure than language, which may explain why they have received less attention in traditional research.

But they are fundamental to how many people, autistic or not, experience connection and understanding. Recognising this has practical implications. It means that decisions about education, support and policy are shaped by how autistic people actually experience the world.

In schools, this could lead to better identification of barriers and more responsive teaching practices. In policy, it could inform more effective approaches to special educational needs provision, diagnosis and employment support.

More broadly, it suggests that expanding how we understand communication could benefit everyone. All of us – regardless of whether we are autistic – have experiences that are difficult to express in words.

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Read more:
Why it’s time to rethink the notion of an autism ‘spectrum’

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The concept of the autism spectrum was originally intended to reflect diversity. But if it continues to rely on narrow assumptions about communication and knowledge, it may not fully capture that diversity in practice. Our work is part of a growing area of research exploring how to better recognise different forms of expression and understanding, including those that fall outside conventional definitions of language.

Taking these forms seriously does not mean abandoning science. It means broadening what we consider to be valid evidence, and who we recognise as knowledgeable about autistic experience. If we do this, we may find that approaches designed to support autistic people can support many others too.

Lou Harvey has received funding from the UK Arts and Humanities Research Council, the former Higher Education Funding Council for England, and the Society for Research into Higher Education.

Chris Bailey received academic funding from the UK Literacy Association (UKLA) to to total of £1400 for the Ruling Passions project that is mentioned in this article.

– ref. Why understanding autism means looking beyond spoken language – two autistic researchers of communication explain – https://theconversation.com/why-understanding-autism-means-looking-beyond-spoken-language-two-autistic-researchers-of-communication-explain-278633

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Anna Linder, Researcher in Health Economics, Lund University

Schools increasingly rely on testing, grading and performance accountability. In England, Ofsted inspections and school league tables sharpen the focus on measurable performance. Similar developments have taken place in Sweden, where repeated reforms have introduced earlier and more detailed assessments.

Performance-driven school environments shape young people’s wellbeing. Yet despite frequent reforms to evaluation systems, their psychological consequences rarely take centre stage in policy debates.

Our new study connects these trends with rising youth mental health issues. Our research shows that earlier and more formal grading can increase clinically diagnosed mental health problems, particularly among girls.

Our research examined a Swedish reform introduced in 2012 that moved the start of formal grading from grade eight (around age 14) to grade six (around age 12). This meant official grades and clearer signals of relative performance arrived two years earlier than before.

To estimate the effects, we compared children born just before and just after the reform cut-off. Because exposure depended strictly on date of birth, students on either side were similar in background but differed in whether they received earlier grades. We also accounted for certain underlying trends across this time period, such as an overall increase in mental health diagnoses over time. Comparing cohorts in this way allows us to isolate whether earlier grading itself led to changes in mental health diagnoses.

Our analysis draws on nationwide linked education and health registers covering more than 520,000 children born between July 1992 and June 2000. We examined psychiatric diagnoses recorded in outpatient and inpatient care during the year students entered grade nine (the end of lower-secondary school).

Earlier grades affect girls’ mental health

Earlier grading increased diagnoses of depression and anxiety among girls, with the largest effects among girls whose academic achievement ranged from low to average. Effects for boys were smaller and less consistent.

Among girls, the share diagnosed with depression or anxiety increased from 1.4% to 2.0%. While the absolute change (0.6 percentage points) may appear modest, psychiatric diagnoses at this age are relatively uncommon. The change represents roughly a two-fifths increase compared with before the reform.

Our findings point to academic pressure and social comparison as likely reasons for this increase in mental health problems. Formal grades make performance more visible at a younger age, clearly signalling how a child ranks among their peers. At a stage when young people’s understanding of themselves is still developing, this may heighten their sensitivity to comparison and perceived failure.

One plausible explanation is greater sensitivity to performance feedback among girls. In earlier research, we found that when girls received grades more favourable than their measured performance would predict, their mental health improved. This suggests they may be particularly responsive to evaluative feedback, and therefore more vulnerable when grading intensifies.

Wider consequences

Our findings indicate that academic pressure may contribute to gender gaps in adolescent mental health. If girls are more likely to internalise the pressure and stress of academic evaluation, earlier grading may unintentionally widen the well-documented existing gender disparities in mental health.

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Read more:
Making sense of the widening gender mental health gap: what teenage girls told us

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We do not argue that grading is inherently harmful. Grades can motivate, guide learning and inform parents and teachers. But timing and design matter. When evaluation becomes more formal earlier in schooling, unintended psychological costs can emerge alongside academic goals.

As grading systems continue to evolve, questions of timing and intensity deserve careful thought. Schools are not only institutions for measuring performance, but environments where young people form their identities. Designing education systems that support both learning and healthy development requires taking both aims seriously.

Education policy inevitably involves trade-offs. Systems designed to measure and raise standards also shape students’ daily experience. Our findings suggest that when policymakers move formal evaluation to younger ages, they should weigh mental health impacts alongside academic benefits.

Accountability policies should consider psychological effects. This does not mean abandoning grading, but evaluation systems should be sensitive to the development stage of students and accompanied by relevant support that helps students interpret feedback constructively.

Students respond differently to evaluation. Reforms that work well for some may create strain for others, particularly those already vulnerable to performance pressure. Monitoring wellbeing alongside academic outcomes can help identify unintended consequences early.

Anna Linder receives funding from the Swedish Research Council for Health, Working Life and Welfare and the Public Health Agency of Sweden.

Gawain Heckley currently receives funding from Swedish Research Council , Swedish Research Council for Health, Working Life and Welfare and Jan Wallanders och Tom Hedelius stiftelse.

Ulf Gerdtham receives funding from Swedish Council for Working Life and Social Research.

– ref. How school grades can affect mental health – particularly for girls – https://theconversation.com/how-school-grades-can-affect-mental-health-particularly-for-girls-277907

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Simon Kolstoe, Associate Professor of Bioethics, University of Portsmouth

How is it possible to spend tens of billions of dollars developing drugs to treat a serious disease that affects millions of people, and yet end up with something that does not work? This is a mystery that has bedevilled Alzheimer’s research for years.

A new review of the evidence has concluded that the leading class of Alzheimer’s drugs “probably result in little to no difference” in a range of measures, including reducing dementia severity. This finding was quickly used to further justify the NHS’s decision two years ago not to fund these drugs.

These findings are disappointing, not just for researchers and drug companies, but also for the tens of millions of people and their families suffering from the effects of a devastating disease.

Medical research is often reported through success stories, but Alzheimer’s disease has remained stubbornly resistant to the development of life-changing breakthroughs. This has not gone unnoticed. A couple of years ago, investigative journalists uncovered significant fraud in important studies underpinning some of the science behind the leading Alzheimer’s drugs.

While this fraud is not solely responsible for the lack of progress in Alzheimer’s research, it does reveal how vested interests can distort science and how commercial interests can sometimes override indications that a specific approach may not actually be working. It also reveals how social, political and economic factors can distort and hold back entire fields of research.

A century of science and still no answers

The German psychiatrist Alois Alzheimer first identified the disease that bears his name in 1906. Over the subsequent years, it was found to be characterised by abnormal protein deposits in the brain called amyloid “plaques” and similarly misfolded protein tau tangles.

As these misfolded proteins are not found in healthy brains, it was assumed that they were the cause of the disease. But subsequent studies showed that the amounts of these protein deposits did not correlate well with disease severity, unlike similar diseases, where misfolded protein deposits occurring in other parts of the body led directly to organ failure.

This complex relationship between the pathological changes in the brains of people with Alzheimer’s and the psychological progression of the disease has split the research field for many years.

At one point, those proposing that amyloid deposits (or at least the molecular processes leading to them) were the main cause of the disease were even referred to as “Baptists”, while those holding tau as responsible were called the “Tauists”. Although these have been the main two theories as to the cause of the disease, there have been numerous others, such as linking the disease to the abnormal behaviour of neurotransmitters, inflammation, presence of pollutants, age-related changes, DNA damage, viruses and even sleep disturbance.

In situations like this, when there are many competing theories, researchers who start working on one theory can start to become entrenched. This is an unfortunate byproduct of competitive funding models, where research money tends to flow to the researchers who are most successful at arguing that their approach is the most promising and therefore worthy of receiving more research money. This is an interesting example of how science is not always an entirely objective endeavour.

This pressure on researchers to publish papers and attract funding is probably a contributing factor to the significant fraud linked specifically to some working on the amyloid hypothesis for Alzheimer’s. In one case, a researcher in the US was forced to resign from his university following the retraction of a much-cited paper, and the discovery that over 20 other papers may have similarly questionable data.

In a separate case, an academic faced fraud charges, while a pharmaceutical company they worked with came under investigation for allegedly misleading investors. Both of these cases were in connection with a different approach to treating Alzheimer’s, namely, targeting a protein called filamin A.

Indeed, controversies within Alzheimer’s research have become so frequent that they have inspired an entire book dedicated to examining the issue.

Matthew Schrag, a neuroscientist who played a key role in exposing elements of fraud in Alzheimer’s research, said: “You can cheat to get a paper. You can cheat to get a degree. You can cheat to get a grant. You can’t cheat to cure a disease. Biology doesn’t care.”

While scientific breakthroughs undoubtedly underpin much of modern life, the example of Alzheimer’s research serves as a reminder that the path from defining a problem to discovering a solution is rarely straightforward.

It would be nice to think that the main incentive for most researchers might be solving a problem or curing a disease, but the actual situation is far more complex. Research relies on funding, and researchers get jobs based on reputation, often in the form of publications. Because of this, the wrong behaviour can become incentivised.

The complexity of Alzheimer’s disease and the lack of obvious answers or cures make this field particularly susceptible to distortion by the social factors that can influence science.

As researchers and pharmaceutical companies compete for funding and investment, the science starts to get lost behind the games that are played. The end result is not only financial loss and lack of progress, but in the case of this devastating disease, millions of people also end up suffering through a lack of effective treatments.

Prior to moving into Bioethics Simon Kolstoe spent 17 years working on protein folding diseases (including Alzheimer’s) on grants funded by the MRC, BBSRC, Wellcome Trust and with a number of pharmaceutical companies. He receives no income from his former research in this area.

– ref. Alzheimer’s drugs offer little benefit, major review finds – and the reasons go deeper than the science – https://theconversation.com/alzheimers-drugs-offer-little-benefit-major-review-finds-and-the-reasons-go-deeper-than-the-science-280833

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Asrif Yusoff, Senior Lecturer and Employability Lead, University of Greenwich

It has been said that “people leave managers, not companies”. It’s easy to believe that this is true, either from personal experience or observation. Many workers can easily point to a line manager who dismissed their concerns or treated them unfairly.

But is it really fair to suggest that managers alone are the dominant cause of staff turnover? Our recent study indicates that in most cases, it’s a combination of both leadership and the organisation. We reviewed 39 papers from the past ten years – and the findings suggest something more nuanced.

People might leave a job if what is demanded of them significantly exceeds the resources they’re given. Managers do matter here because they can shape both sides of that equation. But leadership style alone can be overpowered when workload remains high and resources are consistently below par. In these conditions, even good managers struggle to retain people.

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Across the literature, leadership was shown to influence employee turnover in two ways. First, leaders set the tone for how their employees operate. Good relationships between managers and employees tend to clarify to workers what is expected from them, as well as a sense of autonomy and an ability to express oneself without fear (what we call psychological safety).

Within management theory, there are different types of positive leadership. These include “transformational” (real impact is felt), “servant” (leaders maximise team potential) and “ethical” (grounded on strong principles). Studies consistently link these favourable approaches to staff being less inclined to leave, due to stronger levels of trust and engagement.

Second, leaders intensify demands. Naturally, micromanagement or abusive supervision will strain relationships. When employees feel they are under constant pressure, they are more likely to disengage and plan their exit. In this respect, people do leave managers – because their boss’s behaviour creates conditions that make work feel unmanageable.

These conditions explain how leadership can influence workers’ intentions to leave. They also explain why organisations keep returning to manager coaching or training as an intervention to help them hold on to talented staff. But this could be a waste of time – leadership is just one part of the story.

When good management is not enough

In many of the reviewed studies, factors such as workload, scheduling and pay played a big role in someone’s decision to leave. A supportive manager may buffer strain to protect team members, but when workload is chronically heavy or people aren’t clear on how they can progress in the organisation, the manager’s positive influence will fade away.

This explains some common patterns. Organisations sometimes attribute turnover to bad managers when the deeper cause is an overly stretched workforce. Also, managers are frequently expected to compensate for problems they cannot control – things like understaffing, pay structures or working hours. A manager can only do so much to appease unhappy workers.

Evidence from the literature suggests the demands of work must be balanced with the resources provided (time, staff, money or equipment, for example). This can be a two-track approach.

Track 1: Structural improvement

One way that work structures can be improved is by reducing overload. This is of course easier said than done – it involves diagnosing what is pushing demands too far. Someone’s decision to leave begins with unclear priorities or unpredictable demands. Even small improvements such as a clearer allocation of work and strategies for prioritising tasks can reduce pressure.

Another angle is clarity on what employees have to do to progress within the organisation. Employees are more likely to leave when progression appears arbitrary or – even worse – political. Clarifying pathways and criteria for promotion (and following through) can reduce uncertainty and strengthen employees’ commitment.

This kind of change takes time, however. It may require some extra budget and stronger collaborations across teams. What’s key is addressing what can be changed across the organisation rather than placing the entire burden of retaining staff on leaders.

Track 2: Strengthening leadership

When change is slow, leadership becomes a more immediate lever. The goal is for leaders to not only be inspiring, but to “walk the talk”. Change must be felt, and it becomes tangible when leaders actually increase resources and reduce avoidable demands.

Coaching (continuous nurturing and support) is increasingly cited as a prerequisite for leaders. This is not only because it promotes empathy. Coaching is useful because it can offer better clarity for employees. It also helps to uncover workload challenges early.

Related to this is how work is distributed. When duties are allocated transparently, it reduces people’s perceptions of unfairness and prevents avoidable overload. This is actually a more feasible action compared to changing the behaviour of managers.

But where managers are abusive or authoritarian, attempts to hold on to staff will fail unless the managerial behaviour is addressed. Toxic leadership can easily accelerate staff losses beyond the level that structural changes can repair in the short term.

Staff turnover is not always a purely individual decision. Some studies indicate that when people start to leave a workplace, it can start a trend. Employees can also begin to make comparisons within teams, particularly when opportunities appear uneven.

For organisations, this makes monitoring staff turnover a form of early warning system. An exodus should trigger an investigation, targeted support and action where necessary. Unfortunately, there’s no one-size-fits-all solution.

In summary, people do leave managers, but they also leave organisations. Both leadership behaviour and the design of workplaces shape this decision. Retention improves when organisations see leadership and structural change as complementary levers in the same system.

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. The old adage that people leave managers, not companies is true – but only up to a point – https://theconversation.com/the-old-adage-that-people-leave-managers-not-companies-is-true-but-only-up-to-a-point-280879

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Jonathan R. Goodman, Assistant Research Professor, Psychiatry, University of Cambridge

Until a few years ago, no one had heard of bixonimania. Then, in 2024, a group of scientists posted findings online announcing the condition, which they claimed affected the eyes after computer use. However, the scientists had made it up – not just the work, but the authors’ names, affiliations, locations and funding, which was the University of Fellowship of the Ring and the Galactic Triad.

Large language models like ChatGPT and Gemini treated it as real anyway, and in doing so, helped turn a fictional disease into a legitimate-sounding health concern.

Bixonimania is not an isolated case. Being deceived – whether you are a person or an AI model – is concerningly common, in science and beyond. Whether we’re talking about AI hallucinations, state-backed disinformation or just everyday lies, humans have a remarkable knack for naivety, owing to our biases and increasing need to outsource learning to others. These are problems we – individually and collectively – urgently need to better understand and overcome.

Our shared fascination with deception may help explain the popularity of The Traitors, a TV programme built around the tension between trust and suspicion, where contestants must decide who among them is deceiving the group.

The show captures something intrinsic to being human: the persistent threat of being unsure about whether we’re placing trust effectively. Yet in the modern era of mass digital communication and AI, we’re now almost constantly faced with a similar threat, often without realising it.

At a recent event at the Cambridge Festival, we aimed to highlight this risk through a Traitors-themed science event. Four panellists presented work, all of which could have been a lie. The audience was asked to vote on which of the presenters was deceiving them and why.

We deliberately made the presenters and their work outlandish. From their varying backgrounds and with varying accents, the panellists presented their work in global health, climate, media and astrophysics. Some dressed formally, while one – a Nigerian researcher presenting her work on immigration in a healthcare context – wore clothes linked to her ethnic identity.

We were interested in exploring which of these signals – accent, gender, ethnicity, and dress and presentation style – influenced the audience’s decisions. Both content and presentation styles influenced them, but the signals they relied on led them to the wrong conclusions, rating the traitors as more credible than honest researchers.

The ones who received the most votes were the two “faithful” researchers (to use the language of The Traitors) – Ada, from the non-profit Development Media Initiative, and Sarah, an astrophysicist working in galactic archaeology.

Ada’s team had saved lives by sharing health information with communities in the global south through running ten radio broadcasts daily. The audience thought the results were implausibly impressive.

“Ada’s data is too good to be true,” one person reported in our questionnaire. She was also presenting work she hadn’t personally contributed to. Even though this is common in large collaborations, this distance led to perceptions of a lack of confidence, undermining her credibility.

Sarah, an astrophysicist, had presented her subfield of galactic archaeology – the study of the Milky Way’s formation history through the chemical signatures of ancient stars. Yet with only four minutes to speak, she was unable to convey significant depth. The audience read that as a lack of understanding.

The outlandishness of her field’s name also harmed perceptions of her legitimacy. “Galaxy [sic] archaeology is too cool a name to exist,” one audience member wrote.

By contrast, the two traitors, Jack and Joyce, received the fewest votes. Jack was an actor who created the persona of a climate researcher specialising in rain. Joyce presented her own work but falsified the results.

Interestingly, Joyce’s personal connection to her work – she is a Nigerian woman conducting research into Nigerian communities – helped to convince the audience of her authenticity. “Joyce’s presentation sounded very considered and genuine – the process of her research and recounts of her personal experiences sounded like she had lots of interest in the area,” one person wrote.

The event was meant to be fun and engaging. Yet we also wanted to illustrate the many ways people can misrepresent themselves, whether in science or beyond. Our traitors showed that lies don’t just have to be about who you are (Jack is an actor, not a researcher) but about what you say (Joyce is a researcher but falsified her results).

Misinformation has always existed. What’s new is the speed at which it spreads, the tools that generate it, and how convincingly it mimics the real thing.

Why maths isn’t enough

Our collective capacity to recognise false information is also at risk. This is because, as a society, we continue to promote the importance of hard science subjects at the expense of the critical thinking skills derived from studies of the arts, humanities and social sciences.

This can be seen, for example, in the 2023 UK governmental push to require all school students to take maths until age 18. No such push exists to promote and develop the critical thinking skills of young people. It’s easy to see how increasingly convincing falsehoods like bixonimania’s existence can be accepted as truth, especially when touted by AI models.

Tools are helpful. AI is a tool, the internet is a tool, the media is a tool. But it’s up to us to ensure that we are using them and not being manipulated by them.

In The Traitors, we have little to go on to determine what is true. Yet in the real world, we have the ability to check the truth of claims. With effective caution and critical thinking, it is entirely possible to determine what is trustworthy, but it requires thinking for ourselves. Trust is ours to give, and we need to learn to give it wisely.

Jonathan R. Goodman receives funding from the National Institute of Health Research, the Wellcome Sanger Institute, and the Wellcome Trust.

Mariam Rashid receives funding from the Isaac Newton Trust and the Kavli Foundation.

– ref. The fake disease that fooled the internet — and what it says about all of us – https://theconversation.com/the-fake-disease-that-fooled-the-internet-and-what-it-says-about-all-of-us-280615

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Dipa Kamdar, Senior Lecturer in Pharmacy Practice, Kingston University

Metformin has a strong claim to being one of the most influential medicines of the past century. For decades, it has underpinned the treatment of type 2 diabetes, helped millions of people control their blood sugar, and inspired a second life in research on everything from ageing and cancer to heart health and fertility.

Its story begins not in a laboratory but in a plant, galega officinalis, also known as French lilac or goat’s rue. For centuries, the plant was used in folk remedies for symptoms we now recognise as associated with diabetes, including excessive thirst and frequent urination. In the early 20th century, scientists isolated blood sugar-lowering compounds from it. After years of refinement and testing, metformin emerged as a relatively safe and effective medicine, and was introduced in the UK in the late 1950s.

Large clinical trials, which are carefully designed studies in people to test how well treatments work, confirmed what many doctors already suspected. Metformin was not only effective at lowering glucose, the body’s main form of sugar, but also at reducing diabetes-related complications. It became the main treatment for type 2 diabetes across much of the world.

Metformin is a biguanide drug, a class of medicines that lowers blood sugar, and it works by helping the body use insulin more effectively. Insulin is the hormone that helps move glucose from the bloodstream into cells for energy. Metformin reduces the amount of glucose released by the liver, improves the way muscles take up glucose from the blood, and reduces how much glucose is absorbed from food in the gut.

Metformin also activates an enzyme called AMPK, often described as the cell’s energy sensor. Enzymes are proteins that help chemical reactions happen in the body.

When AMPK is switched on, it reduces the liver’s production of new glucose, a process called gluconeogenesis, and encourages tissues such as muscle to take up and use more glucose. Unlike some other diabetes medicines, metformin does not usually cause weight gain, and on its own it rarely causes low blood sugar.

Beyond diabetes: promise and limits

Metformin’s strong reputation has also led researchers to explore possible uses beyond diabetes, although the evidence is mixed. One common off-label use, meaning a medicine is prescribed for a condition it has not officially been approved to treat, is polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS).

Many people with PCOS have insulin resistance, which means their bodies do not respond properly to insulin and need to produce more of it to keep blood glucose stable. High insulin levels can stimulate the ovaries to produce more androgens, a group of hormones that includes testosterone.

Raised androgen levels can disrupt ovulation and contribute to irregular or absent periods. By improving insulin sensitivity, metformin can help reduce these effects and may help regulate the menstrual cycle.

Metformin has also been studied for its possible effects on ageing and longevity. Although early findings are intriguing, there is still no conclusive evidence that it slows ageing in humans, and it is not approved for that purpose.

Some research has suggested that metformin may have neuroprotective effects, meaning it could help protect the brain and nervous system, particularly with long-term use. But the evidence is inconsistent, and large, long-term clinical trials are still needed to determine whether metformin really can protect against dementia and other neurodegenerative diseases.

These possible uses highlight metformin’s versatility, but they also underline the importance of medical oversight. Metformin is generally well tolerated, but like all medicines, it can cause side-effects. The most common are nausea, stomach discomfort, diarrhoea, changes in taste, and loss of appetite. These often improve over time or when people switch to slow-release formulations, which release the drug more gradually. Taking metformin with food can also help.

Another recognised issue is vitamin B12 deficiency, which has repeatedly been observed in people with type 2 diabetes who take metformin. This may happen because the drug reduces how well vitamin B12 is absorbed in the gut.

Over time, low vitamin B12 can lead to anaemia or peripheral neuropathy. Anaemia means the body does not have enough healthy red blood cells to carry oxygen properly, while peripheral neuropathy refers to nerve damage, usually in the hands or feet, that can cause tingling, numbness, pain or weakness.

A rare but serious side-effect is lactic acidosis, a dangerous build-up of lactic acid in the blood. If too much builds up, it can make the blood dangerously acidic and, if untreated, may lead to organ failure. This is more likely in people with severe kidney or liver problems, which is why regular monitoring is important. Healthcare professionals may also advise temporarily stopping metformin before certain medical procedures or if someone becomes severely unwell.

For decades, the advice was simple: start with metformin. In 2026, however, the National Institute for Health and Care Excellence (Nice) updated its guidelines for type 2 diabetes, signalling a move towards earlier and more intensive treatment. The new guidance recommends that most people should be offered an SGLT-2 inhibitor, such as dapagliflozin, alongside metformin from the start.

SGLT-2 inhibitors are drugs that help the kidneys remove excess glucose from the body in urine. This approach aims not only to control blood sugar, but also to protect the heart and kidneys earlier in the course of disease, reflecting a broader shift towards more personalised treatment.

That does not mean metformin has been pushed aside. It remains a cornerstone of diabetes care and is still widely prescribed. But the landscape is changing, and treatment is becoming more tailored to the individual.

Metformin may be old, but it continues to adapt to modern medicine. As diabetes care becomes more personalised and new treatment options emerge, metformin remains a reliable, affordable and effective foundation. Its story is far from over. Sometimes the most transformative medicines are not the newest or the flashiest, but the ones that stand the test of time.

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.

– ref. The 10 pence pill that underpins diabetes care – and may do much more besides – https://theconversation.com/the-10-pence-pill-that-underpins-diabetes-care-and-may-do-much-more-besides-276136