Category: The Conversation – UK

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Will de Freitas, Environment + Energy Editor, The Conversation

This roundup of The Conversation’s climate coverage was first published in our award-winning weekly climate action newsletter, Imagine.

2025 was a brutal year for the climate: record temperatures, ever more extreme weather and so on. We rarely got a break from the bad news.

This week, rather than saying what’s going wrong, Imagine is looking at what’s starting to go right – and why it matters.

This isn’t blind faith. It’s what some academics call “grounded optimism”, based on data, momentum and the surprising resilience of people and ecosystems.

A positive tipping point?

We rightly spend a lot of time worrying about climate tipping points – the terrifying thresholds beyond which ecosystems collapse. Earlier this week we looked at the prospects of a sudden collapse in coral reefs, for instance.

But we rarely hear about “positive tipping points”. These are the moments when a sustainable technology or action becomes so affordable or popular that it kickstarts “irreversible, self-propelling change”.

The UK may have just passed one (tipping points, as the coral reefs author notes, are best noticed in hindsight). That’s according to Kai Greenlees and Steven R. Smith of the University of Exeter, who say the electric vehicle market is an example of a positive tipping point in action.

Despite misinformation campaigns, sales have surged in the UK, driven by a simple reality: they are getting cheaper and better.

“The more people buy them”, Greenlees and Smith write, “the cheaper and better they get, which makes even more people buy them – a self-propelling change towards a low-carbon road transport system.”

At the time of writing, the authors only had access to 2024 data, when electric vehicles made up 19.6% of new cars in the UK.

That figure, they wrote, “puts this sector close to the critical 20-25% range for triggering the phase of self-propelling adoption, according to positive tipping points theory”.

Data for 2025 UK sales was released on Tuesday. The share of electric vehicles? 23.4%.

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Read more:
UK may be on verge of triggering a ‘positive tipping point’ for tackling climate change

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From crisis to innovation

In Pakistan, solar is booming – not because of climate pledges, or activist pressure, but because the grid has become expensive and unreliable. Something similar is playing out across south Asia, says Reihana Mohideen of the University of Melbourne.

Mohideen writes:

“Importantly, these moves often aren’t about climate change. Reasons range from cutting dependence on expensive fossil fuels and international market volatility to reducing reliance on unreliable power grids to finding ways to boost livelihoods.”

The world recently passed a massive milestone: renewables have finally overtaken coal to become the world’s leading source of electricity. And some of the most exciting developments are taking place in less wealthy economies.

Whether it’s Nepal moving to electric vehicles to stop relying on imported petrol or the Maldives installing solar because diesel is too expensive to ship to outer islands, Mohideen says the result is the same: clean energy is no longer just for rich nations. It is becoming a logical economic choice everywhere.

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Read more:
Renewables have now passed coal globally – and growth is fastest in countries like Bhutan and Nepal

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China doubles down

We can’t talk about global hope without considering the world’s largest emitter.

This newsletter has noted before the confusing paradox of China fast rolling out green technologies while still burning a colossal amount of coal to keep the lights on.

In an article on China’s five green economy challenges in 2026, Chee Meng Tan of the University of Nottingham notes the country’s grid can’t quite handle all the new solar power, while a cut-throat price war threatens progress on electric vehicles.

But Beijing is doubling down on greening its economy, he says, and still aims to achieve “‘carbon peaking’, where carbon dioxide emissions have reached a ceiling by 2030, and ‘carbon neutrality’, where net carbon dioxide emissions have been driven down to zero by 2060.”

The challenges Tan identifies will need to be overcome. But the sheer scale of investment suggests that in China the momentum is now undeniably pointed towards a low-carbon future.

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Read more:
China’s five green economy challenges in 2026

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Where the wild things thrive

Finally, some good news for climate-threatened ecosystems.

It’s easy to assume that global warming hits everywhere equally. But nature isn’t that simple. Researchers working in east Africa and California’s Sierra Nevada mountains have identified what they call “climate change refugia”.

These are specific pockets of resilience that remain buffered from the worst effects of warming. They can be quite small scale: a shaded meadow, a deep lake, or a valley that harbours cool air.

Toni Lyn Morelli of UMass Amherst and Diana Stralberg of the University of Alberta have written about their work identifying and mapping these safe havens. Their work means conservationists can prioritise protecting the specific meadows where ground squirrels can survive, or the corridors in Tanzania where elephants and lions can find enough water to endure a drought.

Morelli and Stralberg say that by “identifying and protecting the places where species can survive the longest, we can buy crucial decades for ecosystems”.

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Read more:
Where the wild things thrive: Finding and protecting nature’s climate change safe havens

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Get a weekly roundup in your inbox instead. Every Wednesday, The Conversation’s environment editor writes Imagine, a short email that goes a little deeper into just one climate issue. Join the 45,000+ readers who’ve subscribed so far.

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– ref. A few reasons to feel hopeful about the climate in 2026 – https://theconversation.com/a-few-reasons-to-feel-hopeful-about-the-climate-in-2026-272930

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Will Shüler, Vice-Dean of Education and Senior Lecturer, School of Performing and Digital Arts, Royal Holloway, University of London

Belgian theatre director Ivo Van Hove is no stranger to American playwright Arthur Miller, directing acclaimed productions of A View From the Bridge at the Young Vic in 2014, with a transfer to London’s West End in 2015, and The Crucible on Broadway in 2016. Now he has another hit on his hands with his latest production of Miller’s All My Sons.

While Van Hove is known for using technology such as video screens on stage, this stripped-back production at the Wyndham Theatre allows the intensity of the play to reveal itself unfiltered.

Written in 1946, Miller’s play is set in a small nondescript post-war American town, and revolves around Joe Keller (Bryan Cranston), a former manufacturer of military aircraft parts, who has built a comfortable life and established himself as a respected figure in the community.

When only one of his sons, Chris (Paapa Esseidu), comes home from the war, it leaves their mother Kate (Marianne Jean-Baptiste) pining for news of her missing son, Larry. Four years later, Kate is forced to confront the possibility that Larry is never coming home when his former girlfriend Ann (Hayley Squires) gets engaged to Chris.

Ann is also the daughter of Joe’s former business partner, imprisoned during the war for selling faulty aircraft components that led to the deaths of American soldiers. Ann’s brother George arrives to stop her from marrying Chris and accuses Joe of being the one responsible for the defective parts – and by extension the reason Larry is missing. What unfolds is a relentless investigation of what we choose to believe and what we choose to take responsibility for within families and society.

The stripped-back nature of the production allows for the captivating performances to sing. Cranston, Esseidu, Jean-Baptiste and Squires all give faultless performances that keep audiences captivated throughout. The play’s climax, when Cranston utters the line the play is named for, is genuinely heartwrenching.

Power of the Greek tradition

In the programme notes, Van Hove articulates his distaste for Miller being performed “very realistically and very naturalistically”. Instead, he points to Miller’s works as “more akin to the emotional savagery of a Greek tragedy”. In many ways, this staging recalls strong Greek theatre roots and engages imaginatively with the ancient form.

The scenery and lighting design by Jan Versweyveld mirror the space in ancient Greek theatre, an area I explore in my work. Historically, Greek tragedies were mostly set outside of a house and the stage consisted of a facade structure with one central door.

In All My Sons, the main characters come from the house to have their familial and social discussions and disagreements in public. The only glimpses of indoors are through a large circle above the door – less a window and more a cutaway into the interior, echoing the way ancient Greek theatre would stage elements of plays on top of the central house structure.

Scenically, the play begins with a striking image of Kate outside at night, beneath an imposing tree that topples in a storm and comes crashing to the earth. The tree remains unrooted but fixed in the centre of the stage throughout the play, a silent tribute to the missing son, still at the centre of their lives.

This echoes the opening of Aeschylus’ Prometheus Bound, which begins with the protagonist being nailed to rock where he stays throughout the tragedy. These scenic choices pick up on the influence of ancient tragic structure on Miller’s piece.

All My Sons charts the downfall of Joe, a pillar of the community, who is brought low through his own hubris – reminiscent of Sophocles’ Oedipus, Aeschylus’ Agamemnon, and Euripides’ Bacchae.

The plot involves other classic Greek tragedy tropes, such as a long-lost figure returning with news about the past, and children being polluted by the sins of their parents. The denouement is precisely as Aristotle prescribes for a tragedy: a simultaneous discovery of information and a reversal of fortunes.

An essential component to Greek tragedy is the chorus. While we do not get a singing-dancing one in Miller’s play, the neighbour characters (Jim and Sue Bayliss, Lydia and Frank Lubey, and little Bert) function like a Greek chorus.

They observe and comment on the action, push the storyline forward and are there to listen to the characters articulate their thoughts. Importantly, their presence is felt when they are offstage, as Joe, Chris, and Ann are all consumed by how the neighbourhood perceives them.

Most striking is the play’s engagement with a mythic past. First staged in 1947, in All My Sons Miller was referencing the second world war. In this production, no specific war is mentioned, nor is a specific time period evoked by the scenery design or costumes. As such, the play feels set in a different and unspecified time, creating distance between the world of the play and the spectator.

This technique is employed by Miller in The Crucible, which critiques 1950s McCarthyism by setting a play during the Salem witch trials in late 17th-century Massachusetts.

This is precisely how Greek tragedies were set: in a distant, mythic past. This allowed spectators in ancient times to reflect on the themes and ideas of the play in relation to their own world, without the play coming across as too on the nose or moralising.

With All My Sons, what becomes striking is how apposite the play is in relation to our world: to what extent will we allow capitalism to go unchecked? How does the society work if people are not accountable for their actions? And to what extent can other people’s bad decisions be used to justify our own?

Like a Greek tragedy, this production picks at a societal scab and forces us to confront the raw wound beneath. All My Sons is an excellent example of contemporary theatre engaging with historic theatre traditions to mesmerising effect.

All My Sons is on at the Wyndham Theatre, London until March 7 2026.

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Will Shüler 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. All My Sons: director Ivo Van Hove powers up Arthur Miller’s post-war play with a Greek tragedy staging – https://theconversation.com/all-my-sons-director-ivo-van-hove-powers-up-arthur-millers-post-war-play-with-a-greek-tragedy-staging-272917

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Mark Wilkinson, Professor of Orthopaedics, University of Sheffield

Around 117,000 people living in England and Wales had a hip replacement in 2024. Although hip replacements are often thought of as a surgery that mainly older people need, reports from previous years show that around 43% of these operations are done in people aged 50 to 69 years old.

There are many reasons someone in their 50s might need to have a hip replacement. Having the operation done when necessary – regardless of how young you may be – can help you get back to a pain free, active lifestyle.

Why would someone in their 50s need a hip replacement?

The main reason a person in their 50s would need to have a hip replacement is due to arthritis. Although this condition is more common as people get older, it can still happen in younger people. Take Liam Gallagher, for instance. The 53-year-old underwent hip surgery in 2023 due to arthritis.

Arthritis occurs when the cartilage surrounding a joint begins wearing down over time – leading to pain, stiffness and reduced mobility.

Usually, arthritis of the hip is caused by a problem with the shape of the hip joint. For some this is due to hip dysplasia – a problem with the hip that can be evident at birth, where the joint hasn’t developed properly.

Problems with the hip joint can also emerge as young children grow – a condition known as Perthes’ disease.

The hip joint can become misshapen in teenage years as well, developing a bump where the joint meets the thigh bone. This is called a cam lesion and is a very common cause of early arthritis in men.

The other type of hip damage that can occur in younger people is joint inflammation caused by inflammatory arthritis – though this is less common. Inflammatory arthritis occurs when the body mistakenly attacks the hip joint, leading to symptoms such as pain, stiffness and weakness in the joint.

Although most people with inflammatory arthritis will be prescribed medication to treat it, sometimes symptoms can worsen. In such instances, a hip replacement may be performed to help reduce symptoms.

Are more young people having hip replacements?

Hip arthritis isn’t becoming more common in younger people. However, as hip replacements continue to improve and patient demand changes, surgeons are offering it to patients at a younger age.

The surgery is safe and reliable, so we can treat younger patients with greater confidence of long-term success.

Recent improvements in materials and surgical techniques also means a modern hip replacement can last for at least 20 to 30 years in patients – meaning many years of pain relief and mobility.

Is it better to have a hip replacement when you’re younger?

The right time to have surgery depends less on your age and more on your general health – considering the amount of pain and disability your hip is causing. You need to carefully weigh the benefits and risks of surgery against the problems arthritis causes for your life.

Younger patients don’t necessarily have a faster recovery or achieve better outcomes than older patients. It depends, in part, on why they needed surgery.

Younger patients can also have different expectations of what they’ll be able to do with their hip replacement. For example, some may want to get back to high levels of physical activity that just might not be possible. Although a hip replacement can improve mobility and reduce pain, it can’t give you back the joints you had when you were a teen.

It’s true as well that joint replacements don’t tend to last as long in younger patients compared to older patients. This is partly because young people are generally more active – and also because they simply have longer to live and more time to wear out the implant.

Does the surgery differ in younger patients?

In principle, hip replacement surgery is the same operation no matter your age. But there are some slight variations.

In patients aged 70 and older, the prosthesis components are usually glued to fix them to the bone, commonly called a cemented hip. The moving parts are typically made of metal and plastic.

But in younger people, the surgeon may use implants that rely on bone growing onto the surface to fix the replacement joint in place – commonly called a cementless (or uncemented) hip. The moving part of the joint will also be separate to the part that fixes onto the bone. This means they can easily be changed if they become very worn over the years without having to change the whole joint replacement.

In younger people, the moving parts may also be made of different materials – such as ceramic, as it’s more hard-wearing than metal.

How have hip replacements changed over the years?

The biggest advance in joint replacement materials came about with the development of very hard-wearing plastics and ceramics about 15 to 20 years ago.

These have transformed the life expectancy of a joint replacement which means that the majority of modern replacements now last decades. This is quite a different expectation to hip replacement surgery done in the 1980s or 1990s, which only lasted around ten years.

Could new therapies reduce the need for hip replacements someday?

New surgical techniques and therapies are being explored to see whether they may improve hip replacement outcomes.

For instance, a clinical trial is currently underway to understand whether robotic-assisted surgery leads to better hip replacement outcomes compared to conventional surgery techniques.

The use of 3D printing also appears to be promising. This technology allows for complicated implant shapes to be made. This would be beneficial in rare instances where a standard prosthesis wouldn’t fit properly.

Stem cell therapy may hold promise too. This therapy could reduce or eliminate the need for joint replacement entirely by treating arthritis itself. However, we don’t yet have clear clinical evidence showing this treatment works. It will still be years before researchers know if it’s a safe and reliable therapy for arthritis.

Hip replacement surgery is very safe and effective and current implants should last several decades. While new technologies and treatments are emerging, the bar is set very high to achieve better outcomes than conventional hip replacement surgery.

Mark Wilkinson receives funding from Arthritis UK, Medical Research Council, UKRI, and the Health Quality Improvement Partnership.

– ref. People as young as 50 can need a hip replacement – here’s everything you need to know about this common surgery – https://theconversation.com/people-as-young-as-50-can-need-a-hip-replacement-heres-everything-you-need-to-know-about-this-common-surgery-269051

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Kate Davies, PhD candidate, Nottingham Trent University

Hedgehogs have been part of human culture for thousands of years. Across different societies, they’ve been symbols of fertility, protection and healing, as well as fear, superstition and suspicion.

Today, 17 species of hedgehog are found across Europe, Africa and Asia, many of which live in close proximity to people, a closeness that has helped shape the stories told about them.

Long before written history, hedgehog-like imagery could be found in symbolic art linked to fertility and renewal, suggesting these animals mattered to people for far longer than written records can reveal.

In ancient Egypt, they were seen as guides and protectors, admired for their ability to survive winter through hibernation, a powerful symbol of rebirth. However, the Egyptians also hunted them for sport and used their spines in folk remedies, including those thought to cure baldness.

Hedgehogs also historically took on more unsettling roles. In parts of China, early stories described hedgehog spirits that could shapeshift into human form and bring misfortune. Later traditions, however, recast them as sacred household protectors and healers.

Hedgehogs’ horrible history

In Britain, hedgehogs were viewed largely as negative until relatively recently. During the middle ages, they were closely associated with witchcraft. One widespread belief was that witches could transform into hedgehogs to cause harm and mischief. They were also thought to sneak into fields at night to steal milk directly from cows’ udders.

Another long standing belief was that hedgehogs carried stolen fruit on their spines. Medieval illustrations often showed them sneaking through orchards with apples skewered on their backs, an image that still appears in children’s books and birthday party treats today. Some long-standing myths also persist, with well meaning people offering them milk, despite hedgehogs being lactose intolerant.

Although some of these stories survive today as charming curiosities, others had more serious consequences. Hedgehogs were officially classed as “vermin” under the Preservation of Grain Act 1532, alongside a long list of other animals.

Parishes were required to kill them, with bounties of three pence paid for each hedgehog, a significant sum at the time. Communities that failed to meet their quotas could even be fined. Hedgehogs remained on these vermin lists for centuries.

It’s estimated that over the 140 years from 1660 to 1800, around half a million hedgehogs were destroyed in this way – a figure comparable to a substantial proportion of the UK’s current population. And they weren’t alone, wildcats, otters and pine marten (to name but a few) were all once persecuted in the same way, and are now among the UK’s most legally protected species, after suffering significant population declines.

Persecution and protection

Although this act was eventually repealed, the killing of hedgehogs continued well into the 19th and early 20th centuries, particularly on shooting estates. Records suggest that tens of thousands were destroyed each year during this period, with the numbers killed declining between the 1960s and early 1980s. This may reflect changing attitudes and the introduction of wildlife protection legislation, but it is also possible that hedgehogs were becoming scarcer.

Today, hedgehogs are seen very differently in the UK at least. In 2016 they were voted Britain’s favourite mammal, beating red foxes, which came in second place, by a considerable margin. Public affection for hedgehogs has fuelled garden conservation campaigns, dedicated charities and a growing network of rehabilitation centres, caring for sick and injured animals – often supported by members of the public who actively manage gardens with hedgehogs in mind.

While attitudes towards hedgehogs have improved dramatically in recent decades, this has not been enough to halt their decline, with the species recently reclassified as “near threatened” on the International Union for Conservation of Nature red list. Understanding our cultural journey and changing attitudes towards hedgehogs helps explain both our desire to protect them and some of the mistakes we still make.

It also offers a warning, other species once dismissed as pests only gained serious protection once their declines became impossible to ignore. Species such as badgers and foxes continue to provoke strong and divided public opinion, much as hedgehogs once did – a reminder of how strongly stories shape which animals we choose to protect.

The hedgehogs journey from feared pest to beloved garden icon shows how powerful human stories can be, both in harming wildlife and in motivating protection. But affection alone isn’t enough.

Myths that once justified persecution still linger in softer forms, shaping well-meaning but sometimes harmful behaviour. Right now hedgehogs need protection. Simple actions, such as offering a shallow dish of water, creating hedgehog-friendly gardens, providing escape routes from garden ponds and reducing pesticide use, will all help to save this now much-loved mammal.

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

– ref. Why hedgehogs used to be hated – https://theconversation.com/why-hedgehogs-used-to-be-hated-272376

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Basil Germond, Professor of International Security, School of Global Affairs, Lancaster University

The dramatic seizure of the Russian-flagged tanker Marinera/Bella 1 in the north Atlantic, carried out by the US coastguard with British support, underscores the collision between maritime law and power politics.

Under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (Unclos), ships on the high seas enjoy freedom of navigation and fall under the exclusive jurisdiction of their flag state. (However, boarding a vessel without consent is lawful in exceptional cases such as piracy, statelessness, hot pursuit or under a UN mandate.)

The US has justified the operation through domestic sanctions law and a federal warrant. These sanctions were part of a broader US oil-export blockade targeting shipments of Venezuelan crude, specifically sanctioning tankers involved in transporting oil for the Venezuelan government and affiliated entities. They were not directed at Russia generally.

The US and the UK emphasised the vessel’s “statelessness”. Indeed, the tanker’s mid-voyage switch to a Russian flag raises questions about the regularity of its re-registration.

Under maritime law, fraudulent reflagging is a violation that can render a vessel stateless and open the door to enforcement. In this case, this position is obviously contested by Russia, which claims that a proper re-registration happened.

Moscow’s protest and reported naval shadowing – Russia reportedly dispatched a submarine and at least one surface vessel in proximity but did not engage – highlight the geopolitical stakes. When legal ambiguity meets strategic rivalry, the high seas become a stage for confrontation.

But the Marinera affair is more than a clash over a sanctioned vessel. It exposes the fragility of maritime law. Unclos was designed for a world of consensus, not for shadow fleets and geopolitical rivalries. Yet, from the Middle East to Venezuela to Ukraine, enforcement is moving from courtrooms to contested waters – and the risk of miscalculation and escalation is growing.

What is striking is how quickly “shadow fleets” – that is, clandestine vessels operating outside normal maritime governance to move sanctioned or high-risk commodities while concealing their true origin, ownership, or destination – have become central to global geopolitical tensions.

Their operations raise serious safety, insurance and accountability concerns. But for countries facing western sanctions, they are vital. Russia, for instance, is using its shadow fleet to generate revenue for its war effort by selling oil in defiance of international sanctions.

Russia and its war against Ukraine is one of two major flashpoints, the other being the various measures being taken by the US against Venezuela and Iran. In both cases, one side (Venezuela, Iran and Russia) uses shadow fleets to bypass American or western sanctions.

The other (US and Ukraine) meanwhile – each for their own reasons – aims to disrupt these operations. And they do so increasingly through the use of force.

For Ukraine, this is happening in the context of an open armed conflict (outside the remit of Unclos, a peacetime instrument). This arguably makes its attacks on commercial assets that aid Russia’s war machine legitimate under the logic of war.

For the US, enforcement stems from the sanctions regime and domestic law. So, the boarding of the Marinera signals Washington’s willingness to enforce sanctions outside its own territory, even at the risk of provoking Moscow. Although the re-registration might arguably be non-compliant with Unclos, the vessel was de facto sailing under the Russian flag.

Kremlin humiliated

In less than a week, the US has arrested Venezuelan president Nicolás Maduro
(a Kremlin ally), announced its withdrawal from numerous international organisations, boarded a vessel displaying the Russian flag, and issued bold statements of aggressive intent about other sovereign nations.

This suggests the Trump administration has entered a new phase of implementing the 2025 national security strategy. The strategy is to challenge the status quo through a calculated shift in risk management. It is clearly willing to accept short-term geopolitical uncertainty in exchange for what the administration frames as long-term national resilience.

The US decision to board a vessel sailing under a Russian flag is deeply embarrassing for the Kremlin. This humiliation comes just days after successful US strikes on Venezuela, an ally of Russia, underscoring Moscow’s inability to shield its partners. The episode follows similar failures with Assad in Syria and with Iran – the latter also exposing the ineffectiveness of Russian-supplied air defence systems.

The repercussions are global. Russia’s war in Ukraine now reaches beyond the Black Sea, extending into the Mediterranean – even possibly as far as west Africa – with strikes on suspected Russian sanctions‑evading vessels. The attack in the Mediterranean has been officially claimed by Ukraine, while the one off Senegal remains unacknowledged, though it appears to follow similar patterns.

The US–Venezuela crisis combines regime politics, narcotics and shadow fleet dynamics. And two of the world’s biggest economies, India and China, which are major consumers of Russian oil, are deeply entangled, giving these maritime developments a truly international scope.

The question remains as to whether the use of force will deter shadow fleet operations. These operate within a now well-established business model, with unscrupulous owners and captains willing to make easy money out of illegal and dodgy operations.

These are backed by Russia, Iran and, until now, Venezuela and enabled by willing buyers and open registries (national ship registries that allow foreign-owned vessels to register under their flag with minimal requirements, often for lower costs and fewer regulations).

That makes prospects for deterrence bleak. Yet the use of force against civilian shipping in neutral or international waters, almost unprecedented outside major wars, could mark a turning point.

On one hand, it demonstrates that Unclos cannot serve as a shield for sanctions evasion. On the other, it reinforces power politics at sea, opening the door to more hybrid warfare in the maritime domain. This dynamic could ultimately play into Moscow’s hands, given Russia’s proven expertise in hybrid and grey zone warfare.

Basil Germond 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 boarding of the Marinera and the rise of the shadow fleet in hybrid warfare – https://theconversation.com/the-boarding-of-the-marinera-and-the-rise-of-the-shadow-fleet-in-hybrid-warfare-273024

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Giles Gasper, Professor in High Medieval History, Durham University

The best location for a monastery was one that was close to water and wood. Many monastic chroniclers mention this.

Orderic Vitalis, born in England near Shrewsbury in 1075 and sent to the Norman monastery of St Évroult at the age of five, was explicit about this twin need. Water for washing, sanitation, drinking, for making ink, for making lime mortar, and wood for building, and perhaps for keeping warm.

The Benedictine version of monastic life was the most popular across the medieval period, although many others existed. The rule attributed to St Benedict was set down, in 73 chapters, to provide guidance for how monks should live their lives. They should be focused on the world that is to come, on life after death, as well as on obedience and humility.

Monks could not own anything or have personal wealth, even though monasteries as institutions could be very rich indeed. Material comfort was not high on the agenda, at least in theory. Indeed, a contrasting relationship between material discomfort and spiritual worth is often identifiable in the religious expression of the period. In many ways it was seen as the greater the physical discomfort, the greater the spiritual value. The Cistercians, who emerged as a distinctive monastic grouping at the very end of the 11th century, and who followed the Rule of St Benedict too, laid great emphasis on austerity in all areas of their lives.

The regulation of monastic communities provides the context for their attitudes towards being cold. Concession to cold in the Rule of Benedict was limited – that monks in colder regions would need more clothes is recognised. In general the only difference between winter and summer wear was a thick and woolly cowl (a hood which extended across the shoulders) for the colder months and otherwise a thinner one.

Benedict was writing in 6th-century Italy. Conditions in northern regions in later medieval centuries were quite different, in many respects, to the early medieval Mediterranean. Not least in how cold monasteries could get. Orderic had a description of the effects of the winter at the end of his fourth book (of 13) of his Historia ecclesiastica. After writing a little about disputes and clashes on the frontier between Normandy and Maine, in what is now France, he notes that:

Mortal men are oppressed by many misfortunes, which would fill great volumes if the whole take of them were written down. But now, numbed by the winter cold, I turn to other pursuits; and weary with toil, resolve to end my present book here. When the warmth of spring returns I will relate in the following books everything that I have only briefly touched upon or omitted altogether.

But one room in a monastery was kept warm in cold weather. The calefactorium, or calefactory, that is to say, the warming room, was equipped with a fire, and in some cases other treats.

Very few buildings within monastic compounds had fireplaces. The church buildings would have been unheated, and so would the dormitories. The warming house was an unusual and important location in this respect. While some warming rooms were larger they would still not have been able to fit all that many people in at a time. It is easy to imagine a group of ten or so monks huddled round the fireplace, with wood crackling, talking quietly (talking was also discouraged in monastic houses), and seeking some measure of warmth in a cold environment. And that image is probably not far from the truth.

Despite their evident value to the community warming houses do not feature prominently in written records. Nevertheless, surviving examples of buildings and textual references do allow insights into monastic lives, and the difference that the calefactory must have made. Examples from medieval England included the Cistercian house of Meaux in Yorkshire. Founded in 1141 nothing survives of the building but an extensive chronicle does.

The record of new buildings made under Abbot Thomas from 1182 onwards includes mention not only of a fine refectory (dining room) for the monks, built in stone, but also the warming house and a small kitchen. That these should be be entered into the chronicle amongst the achievements of the abbot, as a record to future generations of the community, says a lot about the value placed upon it. It is of interest too that while the refectory went up quickly, paid for by a donor to the monastery, the kitchen and warming room were put together gradually and as resource allowed.

The value of fire

While the warming house of Meaux exists only in its historical record, good surviving examples of other warming houses are common enough. Rievaulx Abbey in north Yorkshire is a good example.

The warming house at Rievaulx is next to the refectory, and was altered quite substantially over the period from the 12th to the 16th century. Eventually two storeys, the warming complex also included clothes-washing facilities for the monks in winter.

And then to Durham. Here we turn to The Rites of Durham, a wonderful treatise from the 16th century (and later), the last memory of the practices of the pre-Reformation monastic house.

It reveals that the warming room, here referred to as a common house, was on the right-hand side as you exited the cloister. And inside there was:

a fyer keept all winter for the mouncks to come and warme at, being allowed no fire but that onely; except the masters and officers which had their seuerall fires.

While medieval buildings were difficult to heat, the presence of warm rooms was an indication of the value put on warmth. And in the case of the Durham Cathedral priory’s common house the monks were provided with additional treats around Christmas time, if the account is to be believed. Figs, raisins, cakes and ale were offered and taken in moderation.

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Giles Gasper receives funding from Arts and Humanities Research Council, Research England, the John Templeton Foundation and the Leverhulme Trust

– ref. How medieval monks tried to stay warm in the winter – https://theconversation.com/how-medieval-monks-tried-to-stay-warm-in-the-winter-270829

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Alper Kara, Head of Department of Economics, Finance & Accounting, Brunel University of London

For many UK households, 2025 marked the beginning of the end of the mortgage rate shocks of the previous year. And while that did not mean a return to cheap borrowing, the easing of interest rates was clearly visible over the course of the year.

The Bank of England’s base rate, a key determinant of mortgage pricing, fell from 4.75% in January 2025 to 3.75% in December.

And mortgage rates followed suit. For a typical first-time buyer (a two-year fixed deal with a 10% deposit) rates fell from around 5.35% in January to about 4.49% by the end of the year.

House prices, meanwhile, did not surge, with annual growth slowed to around 0.7%. Overall, 2025 looked more like a period of cooling and stabilisation – certainly one of the calmer years for the housing market in the past decade.

And that calmness could be about to continue. Most forecasts suggest that the Bank of England base rate could fall further, potentially towards 3.25% by the end of 2026.

But the December 2025 decision is a useful reality check. While the Bank cut rates to 3.75%, it was by a narrow vote (five for, four against). That close split shows the Bank is still cautious about cutting interest rates too quickly.

This matters because mortgage rates do not simply track the base rate. Fixed-rate mortgages are priced mainly off what markets expect to happen over the next few years.

When markets start to anticipate cuts, lenders can reduce fixed rates before the Bank acts. And when those expected cuts are already priced in, there is less room for dramatic further falls.

That helps explain why borrowers may not see mortgage rates drop as far as they hope even if the base rate continues edging down. Those drops are often priced in early, and the remaining reductions can be slower and smaller.

Given the direction of travel, a reasonable expectation is that mortgage rates in 2026 will be a little lower, and a little less volatile.

By the end of 2026, if the base rate settles near the lower end of expectations at around 3.25%, mortgage rates are more likely to stabilise rather than fall sharply. Best deals might dip just below 3.5%, but most borrowers are still likely to face rates in the 3.75–4% range.

Predictable property?

Competition between lenders may help at the margins, but bigger falls would require clearer evidence that inflation pressures are easing sustainably, allowing the Bank to keep cutting rates beyond 2026.

If mortgage rates fall modestly and become more predictable, research suggests that the housing market typically responds with improved confidence. More people may feel they are able to move, and buyers are less likely to wait around while they wait for clarity.

But the general expectation for UK house prices in 2026 is modest growth rather than a runaway market. The Nationwide building society expects annual house price growth to remain broadly in the 2% to 4% range. Halifax’s predictions – of 1% to 3% – are more cautious.

Overall then, 2026 is likely to be a year of stabilisation with mortgage rates slightly lower, but not a return to the ultra-low rates of 2010s. But for households, the year should feel calmer and more predictable, with fewer mortgage shocks, supported by gradually improving affordability.

That said, borrowing is unlikely to feel cheap. And it is important not to assume that a falling base rate automatically guarantees cheaper mortgages, as much of that expectation may already be priced in.

For remortgagers, 2026 may bring fewer surprises, but it will still reward preparation. Households coming off very low fixed rates should start shopping early, compare product transfers with the open market, and pay attention to total costs, not just the headline rate.

For first-time buyers, 2026 may be not the worst time to buy. When rates stabilise and affordability improves gradually, planning becomes easier. But they should still be cautious about overstretching. A slightly cheaper mortgage does not necessarily offset high prices and transaction costs – or the ongoing cost-of-living pressures that many households face.

Alper Kara 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. What 2026 could hold for the UK housing market – https://theconversation.com/what-2026-could-hold-for-the-uk-housing-market-272403

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Lee Cronin, Regius Chair of Chemistry, University of Glasgow

Chemistry deals with that most fundamental subject: matter. New drugs, materials and batteries all depend on our ability to make new molecules. But discovery of new substances is slow, expensive and fragile. Each molecule is treated as a bespoke craft project. If a synthesis works in one lab, it often fails in another.

The problem is that any single molecule could have an almost infinite number of routes to creation. These routes are published as static text, stripped of the context, timing and error correction that made them work in the first place. So while chemistry is often presented as one of the most advanced sciences, its day-to-day practice remains surprisingly manual.

For centuries prior to the emergence of modern chemistry, alchemists worked by hand, mixing substances, adjusting conditions by feel, passing knowledge from teacher to student while keeping many secrets. Today’s chemists use far more analytical tools, yet the core workflow has barely changed.

We still design molecules manually using the rules of chemistry, then ask highly trained humans to translate these ideas into reality in the laboratory, step by step, reaction by reaction.

At the same time, we are living through an explosion in artificial intelligence and robotics – and chemists have rushed to apply these tools to molecular discovery. AI systems can propose millions of candidate molecules, rate and optimise them, and even suggest reaction pathways.

But frustratingly, these tools frequently hallucinate chemicals that cannot be made, because (unlike in the case of proteins) no one has yet captured all the practical rules for making molecules digitally.

Chemistry cannot become truly digital unless it is programmable. In other words, we need to be able to write down, in a machine-readable way, how to assemble molecules – including instructions, conditionals, loops and error handling – and then execute these instructions on different hardware in different places with the same outcome.

Without a language that allows chemistry to be executed, not just described, today’s cutting-edge AI tools risk generating little more than plausible-looking illusions of new chemical substances. This is where using the computer as an architecture to build a digital chemistry system, or “chemputer”, becomes imperative in my view.

Before computers, calculation was manual and mechanical. People used slide rules, tables and specialist devices built for specific tasks. But when Alan Turing showed that any computable problem could be expressed as instructions for a simple abstract machine, computation was liberated from having to be done on specific hardware – and progress became exponential.

Chemistry has never made that jump. Akin to chefs using individual methods to achieve the perfect souffle, researchers around the world have different ways of preparing chemicals. So while automation in chemistry exists, research remains largely artisanal in nature.

An AI can design a thousand hypothetical drugs overnight. But if each one requires a human chemist to manually work out how to make it because the molecules generated are not constrained by the real-world rules of chemistry, we have simply moved the bottleneck. Design has gone digital, making has not.

Chemistry by computers

To properly digitise chemistry, we need a programmable language for matter to encode these real-world rules. This idea led me, with colleagues in my research laboratory at the University of Glasgow, to develop the process of chemputation back in 2012.

We built a concrete abstraction of what a chemical code would look like – with steps such as “add/subtract matter then add/subtract energy”. By translating these steps into binary code, it was possible to build the components of a chemputer.

The premise is simple. Chemistry can be treated as a form of computation carried out in the physical world. Instead of publishing chemistry as prose, it is published in executable code, as described in our new preprinted article. Reagents are data. Operations like mixing, heating, separating and purifying are instructions. A range of machines, such as those shown in the image below, play the role of processors.

Once chemistry becomes programmable, we expect many things to change. Reproducibility improves because processes are no longer interpreted by humans. Sharing becomes meaningful because a synthesis can be run, not re-imagined. Importantly, programmable chemistry allows feedback loops for error correction, with sensors monitoring reactions in real time.

Self-driving laboratories

Our ambitions for chemputation took a major step forward in June 2025 when Chemify, our University of Glasgow corporate spin-out, launched the world’s first chemifarm. At this facility in Glasgow’s Maryhill district, the process of chemputation is applied to making new molecules for drug and materials discovery.

It uses AI and robotics to enable the entire system to “self-learn”, and thus get better at making more advanced molecules over time. Discovery becomes an iterative, programmable process rather than a linear gamble.

This fits with the wider emergence of “self-driving” laboratories – robotic labs we pioneered that use AI and automation to enhance the speed and breadth of research.

Chemistry began as alchemy – a human art shaped by intuition and mystery, making potions, manipulating precious metals and building the first laboratory equipment. It has since grown into a rigorous science, yet never fully escaped its manual roots. If we want chemistry to keep pace with the digital age, especially in an era dominated by AI, we must now finish that transition.

Lee Cronin is the CEO and shareholder in Chemify and is the regius Professor at the University of Glasgow and recieves funding from many organisations including the UKRI Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council.

– ref. Chemistry is stuck in the dark ages – ‘chemputation’ can bring it into the digital world – https://theconversation.com/chemistry-is-stuck-in-the-dark-ages-chemputation-can-bring-it-into-the-digital-world-272610

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Roberta Garrett, Senior Lecturer in Literature and Cultural Studies, University of East London

For films and books about Shakespeare’s life, there is little source material to draw on beyond the few known facts of the great writer’s parentage, hometown, marriage, children, property and death. Shakespeare biopics therefore require considerable speculation and invention on the part of writers and directors.

Director Chloe Zhao’s earthy and sensuous film Hamnet is based on the book by Maggie O’ Farrell, who also co-wrote the screenplay. It not only foregrounds Shakespeare’s personal rather than professional life but does this by focusing chiefly on the experience of his previously maligned wife, Anne Hathaway (referred to as Agnes in the film).

From the 18th century to well into the 20th, Shakespeare biographers and researchers tended to represent Hathaway in highly negative terms. She was viewed as the “shrewish” wife that Shakespeare impregnated, was forced to marry and later escaped by fleeing Stratford for the exciting world of the London theatre.

This perception of Hathaway is grounded in sexist assumptions drawn from the few known facts of their marriage. Namely, that she was eight years his senior, he was only 18 when they wed, she was already pregnant and he spent many years of their marriage working in London.

The popular 1998 romantic comedy, Shakespeare in Love, reproduced the “shrewish” Hathaway narrative. She is absent from the film, but Shakespeare (Joseph Fiennes) dolefully comments on his sexless, loveless marriage and finds genuine passion instead with London-based heroine, Viola (Gwyneth Paltrow).

The more recent film, All Is True (2018) offers a different view. It depicts Hathaway and Shakespeare’s marriage in their twilight years, when the playwright has resettled in Stratford and is finally mourning the death of his son, Hamnet. Although Hathaway is central to the drama, she is depicted as an ageing and conformist provincial wife. Casting Judy Dench in the role alongside the much younger Kenneth Branagh as Shakespeare, also accentuated their age difference.

Hamnet’s Agnes

In sharp contrast, Hamnet’s Agnes (Jessie Buckley) is a young, robust and free-spirited woman who is associated with nature rather than dull domesticity.

Zhao and O’Farrell establish the themes of the film early on by opening with a scene of Agnes wandering in the richly toned mossy forest with her hawk. This view of Agnes draws on Shakespeare’s vision of the magical “green world”. But it also captures the atmosphere and skilled world-building of O’Farrell’s novel in which Agnes, like her long dead mother, is skilled and knowledgeable in turning herbs and flowers into remedies that are valued by the local community.

While many representations of Elizabethan life are centred on the largely male-dominated culture of politics and courtly life, Hamnet offers an account of the busy and productive life of an ordinary (if eccentric) Elizabethan wife and mother. Agnes is in charge of the labour-intensive life of the household. Her family home is situated in the centre of Stratford, boarded by a muddy, dirty, bustling thoroughfare. Women are shown as managing the core human processes of birth and death, birthing in an all-female environment and desperately struggling to keep their children alive in an age of precarious health and mortality.

As other critics have argued, the film’s climax – in which Hamlet is interpreted as the artistic expression of Shakespeare’s personal grief over the loss of his son – is one of the less convincing aspects of the film. Hamlet is essentially a revenge tragedy and Shakespeare’s plots were largely derived from classical and historical sources rather than personal experience.

Yet its heart-wrenching portrayal of Agnes’ anguish over her child’s untimely death is moving and persuasive, offsetting the modern misconception that as child mortality was higher, these experiences were less painful. The death of Hamnet is therefore recast as a tragedy for his mother, who birthed and raised him, rather than just the writer-genius, Shakespeare.

Hamnet’s representation of Agnes/Anne is, of course, almost entirely speculative. Only the wealthiest of women were literate at this time, so unlike her husband, Hathaway left no written traces. However, as Zhao and O’Farrell’s feminist film clearly illustrates, women’s lack of formal education and career opportunities did not mean that they contributed less to their communities – or that we should regard their lives as less meaningful.

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Roberta Garrett 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. Hamnet: by centring Anne Hathaway, this sensuous film gives Shakespeare’s world new life – https://theconversation.com/hamnet-by-centring-anne-hathaway-this-sensuous-film-gives-shakespeares-world-new-life-272969

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Jonathan Paul, Associate Professor in Earth Science, Royal Holloway, University of London

Greenland, the largest island on Earth, possesses some of the richest stores of natural resources anywhere in the world.

These include critical raw materials – resources such as lithium and rare earth elements (REEs) that are essential for green technologies, but whose production and sustainability are highly sensitive – plus other valuable minerals and metals, and a huge volume of hydrocarbons including oil and gas.

Three of Greenland’s REE-bearing deposits, deep under the ice, may be among the world’s largest by volume, holding great potential for the manufacture of batteries and electrical components essential to the global energy transition.

The scale of Greenland’s hydrocarbon potential and mineral wealth has stimulated extensive research by Denmark and the US into the commercial and environmental viability of new activities like mining. The US Geological Survey estimates that onshore northeast Greenland (including ice-covered areas) contains around 31 billion barrels of oil-equivalent in hydrocarbons – similar to the US’s entire volume of proven crude oil reserves.

But Greenland’s ice-free area, which is nearly double the size of the UK, forms less than a fifth of the island’s total surface area – raising the possibility that huge stores of unexplored natural resources are present beneath the ice.

Greenland’s concentration of natural resource wealth is tied to its hugely varied geological history over the past 4 billion years. Some of the oldest rocks on Earth can be found here, as well as truck-sized lumps of native (not meteorite-derived) iron. Diamond-bearing kimberlite “pipes” were discovered in the 1970s but have yet to be exploited, largely due to the logistical challenges of mining them.

Geologically speaking, it is highly unusual (and exciting for geologists like me) for one area to have experienced all three key ways that natural resources – from oil and gas to REEs and gems – are generated. These processes relate to episodes of mountain building, rifting (crustal relaxation and extension), and volcanic activity.

Greenland was shaped by many prolonged periods of mountain building. These compressive forces broke up its crust, allowing gold, gems such as rubies, and graphite to be deposited in the faults and fractures. Graphite is crucial for the production of lithium batteries but remains “underexplored”, according to the Geological Survey of Denmark and Greenland, relative to major producers such as China and South Korea.

But the greatest proportion of Greenland’s natural resources originates from its periods of rifting – including, most recently, the formation of the Atlantic Ocean from the beginning of the Jurassic Period just over 200 million years ago.

Greenland’s onshore sedimentary basins such as the Jameson Land Basin appear to hold the greatest potential of oil and gas reserves, analogous to Norway’s hydrocarbon-rich continental shelf. However, prohibitively high costs have limited commercial exploration. There is also a growing body of research suggesting potentially extensive petroleum systems ringing the entirety of offshore Greenland.

Metals such as lead, copper, iron and zinc are also present in the onshore (mostly ice-free) sedimentary basins, and have been worked locally, on a small scale, since 1780.

Difficult-to-source rare earth elements

While not as intimately related to volcanic activity as nearby Iceland – which, uniquely, sits at the intersection of a mid-ocean ridge and a mantle plume – many of Greenland’s critical raw materials owe their existence to its volcanic history.

REEs such as niobium, tantalum and ytterbium have been discovered in igneous rock layers – similar to the discovery (and subsequent mining) of silver and zinc reserves in south-west England, which were deposited by warm hydrothermal waters circulating at the tip of large volcanic intrusions.

Critically among REEs, Greenland is also predicted to hold sufficient sub-ice reserves of dysprosium and neodymium to satisfy more than a quarter of predicted future global demand – a combined total of nearly 40 million tonnes.

These elements are increasingly seen as the most economically important yet difficult to source REEs because of their indispensable role in wind power, electric motors for clean road transport, and magnets in high-temperature settings like nuclear reactors.

The development of known deposits such as Kvanefield in southern Greenland – not to mention those not yet discovered in the island’s central rocky core – could easily affect the global REE market, owing to their relative global scarcity.

An unfortunate dilemma

The global energy transition came about due to increasing public recognition of the manifold threats of burning fossil fuels. But climate change has major implications for the availability of many of Greenland’s natural resources that are currently blanketed by kilometres of ice – and which are a key part of that energy transition.

An area the size of Albania has melted since 1995, and this trend is likely to accelerate unless global carbon emissions fall sharply in the near future.

Recent advances in survey techniques, such as the use of ground-penetrating radar, allow us to peer with increasing certainty beneath the ice. We are now able to obtain an accurate picture of bedrock topography below up to 2 km of ice cover, providing clues as to the potential mineral resources in Greenland’s subsurface.

However, progress is slow in prospecting under the ice – and sustainable extraction is likely to prove even harder.

Soon, an unfortunate dilemma may need to be addressed. Should Greenland’s increasingly available resource wealth be extracted with gusto, in order to sustain and enhance the energy transition? But doing so will add to the effects of climate change on Greenland and beyond, including despoiling much of its pristine landscape and contributing to rising sea levels that could swamp its coastal settlements.

Currently, all mining and resource extraction activities are heavily regulated by the government of Greenland through comprehensive legal frameworks dating from the 1970s. However, pressures to loosen these controls, and to grant new licences for exploration and exploitation, may increase amid the US’s strong interest in Greenland’s future.

Jonathan Paul 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. Greenland is rich in natural resources – a geologist explains why – https://theconversation.com/greenland-is-rich-in-natural-resources-a-geologist-explains-why-273022