Category: The Conversation – USA

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By David Ikenberry, Professor of Finance, Leeds School of Business, University of Colorado Boulder

For years, I’ve puzzled over a question that seems to defy common sense: If stock markets are hitting records and tech innovation seems endless, why aren’t companies pouring money back into new projects?

Yes, they’re still investing – but the pace of business spending is slower than you’d expect, especially outside of AI.

And if you’ve noticed headlines about sluggish business spending even as corporate profits soar, you’re not alone. It’s a puzzle that’s confounded economists, policymakers and investors for decades. Back in 1975, U.S. public companies reinvested an average of 25 cents for every dollar on their balance sheets. Today, that figure is closer to 12 cents.

In other words, corporate America is flush with cash, but it’s surprisingly stingy about reinvesting in its own future. What happened?

I’m an economist, and my colleague Gustavo Grullon and I recently published a study in the Journal of Finance that turns the field’s conventional wisdom on its head. Our research suggests the issue isn’t cautious executives or jittery markets – it’s about how economists have historically measured companies’ incentives to invest in the first place.

Asking the wrong Q

For decades, economists have relied on a simple but appealing ratio – Tobin’s Q, named after the famous economist James Tobin – to gauge whether companies should ramp up investment.

They calculate this by dividing a company’s market value – what it would take to purchase the firm outright with cash – by its replacement value, or how much it would cost to rebuild the company from scratch. The result is called “Q.” The higher the Q, the theory goes, the more incentive executives have to invest.

But reality hasn’t conformed to fit the theory. Over the past half-century, Tobin’s Q has gone up, yet investment rates have gone down sharply.

Why the disconnect? Our research points to one key culprit: excess capacity. Many U.S. companies already have more factories, machines or service capability than they can use. By not correcting for this issue, the traditional Tobin’s Q will overstate the incentive that companies have to grow.

To see this, consider a commercial real estate company that owns a portfolio of office buildings. In recent years, with the rise of e-commerce and remote work, many of their properties have been running well below capacity. Now suppose a few new tenants start paying rent and begin absorbing a portion of that empty space. Stock prices will rise in response to seeing these new cash flows, which in turn will lead Q to rise.

Traditionally, this increase in Q would suggest that it’s a good time to invest in new buildings – but the reality is quite different with idle capacity still in the system. Why pour money into building another office tower if existing ones still have empty floors?

This key idea is that what matters isn’t the average value of all assets – it’s the marginal value of adding one more dollar of investment. And because capacity utilization has been steadily eroding over the past half-century, many firms see little reason to invest.

That last point may come as a surprise, but the U.S. economy, with all its factories and offices, isn’t nearly as abuzz with activity as it was after, say, World War II. Today, many sectors operate well below full throttle. This growing slack in the system over time helps explain why companies have pulled back on their rate of investment, even as profits and market values climb.

Why has capacity utilization fallen so much over the past half-century? It’s not entirely clear, but what economists call “structural economic rigidities” – things such as regulatory hurdles, labor market frictions or shifts in cost structure – seem to be part of the answer. These factors can drag businesses into a state of chronic underuse, especially after recessions.

Why it matters

This isn’t just an academic debate. The implications are profound, whether you closely follow Wall Street or just enjoy armchair economic policy debates. For one thing, this dynamic might help explain why tax cuts haven’t spurred investment the way supporters have hoped.

Take the 2017 Tax Cuts and Jobs Act, which slashed the top corporate tax rate from 35% to 21% and introduced full expensing for equipment investments. Supporters promised a wave of new investment.

But when my colleague and I looked at the numbers, we found the opposite. In the four years before the tax cuts, publicly traded U.S. firms had an aggregate investment rate, including intangibles, of 13.9%. In the four years after the tax cut, the average investment rate fell to 12.4% – in other words, no evidence of a bump.

Where did those liberated cash flows go? Instead of plowing this newfound cash after the tax cuts into new projects, many companies funneled it into stock buybacks and dividends.

In retrospect, this makes sense. If a company has excess capacity, the incentive to invest should be more muted, even if new machines are suddenly cheaper thanks to tax breaks. If the demand isn’t there, why buy them?

Even with the most generous tax incentives, the core challenge remains: You can’t force-feed investment into an economy already swimming in excess capacity. If companies don’t see real, scalable demand, tax breaks alone aren’t likely to unlock a new era of business spending.

That doesn’t mean tax policy doesn’t matter – it does, especially for smaller firms with real growth prospects. But for the large, well-established firms that make up the lion’s share of the economy, the bigger challenge is demand. Rather than trying to stimulate even more investment, policymakers should prioritize understanding why demand is sagging relative to supply and reducing economic rigidities where they can. That way, the capacity generated by new investment has somewhere useful to go.

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

– ref. Why aren’t companies speeding up investment? A new theory offers an answer to an economic paradox – https://theconversation.com/why-arent-companies-speeding-up-investment-a-new-theory-offers-an-answer-to-an-economic-paradox-260661

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Art Jipson, Associate Professor of Sociology, University of Dayton

An AI-generated image of Charlie Kirk embracing Jesus. Another of Kirk posing with angel wings and halo. Then there’s the one of Kirk standing with George Floyd at the gates of heaven.

When prominent political or cultural figures die in the U.S., the remembrance of their life often veers into hagiography. And that’s what’s been happening since the gruesome killing of conservative activist and Turning Point USA co-founder Charlie Kirk.

The word hagiography comes from the Christian tradition of writing about saints’ lives, but the practice often spills into secular politics and media, falling under the umbrella of what’s called, in sociology, the “sacralization of politics.” Assassinations and violent deaths, in particular, tend to be interpreted in sacred terms: The person becomes a secular martyr who made a heroic sacrifice. They are portrayed as morally righteous and spiritually pure.

This is, to some degree, a natural part of mourning. But taking a closer look at why this happens – and how the internet accelerates it – offers some important insights into politics in the U.S. today.

From presidents to protest leaders

The construction of Ronald Reagan’s postpresidential image is a prime example of this process.

After his presidency, Republican leaders steadily polished his memory into a symbol of conservative triumph, downplaying scandals such as Iran-Contra or Reagan’s early skepticism of civil rights. Today, Reagan is remembered less as a complex politician and more as a saint of free markets and patriotism.

Among liberals, Martin Luther King Jr. experienced a comparable transformation, though it took a different form. King’s critiques of capitalism, militarism and structural racism are often downplayed in most mainstream remembrances, leaving behind a softer image of peaceful dreamer. The annual holiday, scores of street renamings and public murals honor him, but they also tame his legacy into a universally palatable story of unity.

Even more contested figures such as John F. Kennedy or Abraham Lincoln show the same pattern. Their assassinations were followed by waves of mourning that elevated them into near-mythic status.

Decades after Kennedy’s death, his portrait hung in the homes of many American Catholics, often adjacent to religious iconography such as Virgin Mary statuettes. Lincoln, meanwhile, became a kind of civic saint: His memorial in Washington, D.C., looks like a temple, with words from his speeches etched into the walls.

Why it happens and what it means

The hagiography of public figures serves several purposes. It taps into deep human needs, helping grieving communities manage loss by providing moral clarity in the face of chaos.

It also allows political movements to consolidate power by sanctifying their leaders and discouraging dissent. And it reassures followers that their cause is righteous – even cosmic.

In a polarized environment, the elevation of a figure into a saint does more than honor the individual. It turns a political struggle into a sacred one. If you see someone as a martyr, then opposition to their movement is not merely disagreement, it is desecration. In this sense, hagiography is not simply about remembering the dead: It mobilizes the living.

But there are risks. Once someone is framed as a saint, criticism becomes taboo. The more sacralized a figure, the harder it becomes to discuss their flaws, mistakes or controversial actions. Hagiography flattens history and narrows democratic debate.

After Queen Elizabeth II’s death in 2022, for example, public mourning in the U.K. and abroad quickly elevated her legacy into a symbol of stability and continuity, with mass tributes, viral imagery and global ceremonies transforming a complex reign into a simplified story of devotion and service.

It also fuels polarization. If one side’s leader is a martyr, then the other side must be villainous. The framing is simple but powerful.

In Kirk’s case, many of his supporters described him as a truth seeker whose death underscored a deeper moral message. At Kirk’s memorial service in Arizona, President Donald Trump called him a “martyr for American freedom.” On social media, Turning Point USA and Kirk’s official X account described him as “America’s greatest martyr to free speech.”

In doing so, they elevated his death as symbolic of larger battles over censorship. By emphasizing the fact that he died while simply speaking, they also reinforced the idea that liberals and the left are more likely to resort to violence to silence their ideological enemies, even as evidence shows otherwise.

The digital supercharge

Treating public figures like saints is not new, but the speed and scale of the process is. Over the past two decades, social media has turned hagiography from a slow cultural drift into a rapid-fire production cycle.

Memes, livestreams and hashtags now allow anyone to canonize someone they admire. When NBA Hall-of-Famer Kobe Bryant died in 2020, social media was flooded within hours with devotional images, murals and video compilations that cast him as more than an athlete: He became a spiritual icon of perseverance.

Similarly, after Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s death, the “Notorious RBG” meme ecosystem instantly expanded to include digital portraits and merchandise that cast her as a saintly defender of justice.

The same dynamics surrounded Charlie Kirk. Within hours of his assassination, memes appeared of Kirk draped in an American flag, being carried by Jesus.

In the days after his death, AI-generated audio clips of Kirk styled as “sermons” began circulating online, while supporters shared Bible verses that they claimed matched the exact timing of his passing. Together, these acts cast his death in religious terms: It wasn’t just a political assassination – it was a moment of spiritual significance.

Such clips and verses spread effortlessly across social media, where narratives about public figures can solidify within hours, often before facts are confirmed, leaving little room for nuance or investigation.

Easy-to-create memes and videos also enable ordinary users to participate in a sacralization process, making it more of a grassroots effort than something that’s imposed from the top down.

In other words, digital culture transforms what was once the slow work of monuments and textbooks into a living, flexible folk religion of culture and politics.

Toward clearer politics

Hagiography will not disappear. It meets emotional and political needs too effectively. But acknowledging its patterns helps citizens and journalists resist its distortions. The task is not to deny grief or admiration but to preserve space for nuance and accountability.

In the U.S., where religion, culture and politics frequently intertwine, recognizing that sainthood in politics is always constructed – and often strategic – can better allow people to honor loss without letting mythmaking dictate the terms of public life.

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

– ref. Charlie Kirk and the making of an AI-generated martyr – https://theconversation.com/charlie-kirk-and-the-making-of-an-ai-generated-martyr-265834

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Darcie Price-Wallace, Visiting Scholar in Religious Studies, Northwestern University

In August 2025, 161 Tibetan Buddhist nuns from religious institutions across India and Nepal – a record number – gathered at the Dolma Ling Nunnery in northern India to take various levels of the “geshema” examination. These exams are in preparation for one day receiving the geshema degree, comparable with a doctorate in Tibetan Buddhist philosophy. The nearly four-week gathering was especially notable because until 13 years ago it was completely unavailable to women.

Now, thanks to a greater emphasis on women’s education in recent years, Tibetan Buddhist nuns are increasingly becoming teachers and abbesses. In monastic institutions and in Buddhist centers around the world, nuns are taking on leadership roles and being acknowledged for their religious scholarship, including the geshema degree.

As a scholar of religious studies and gender, I study the changing roles of women in Buddhism. While nuns were long respected in Tibetan Buddhist culture, they were historically not granted access to the same educational or leadership opportunities as monks. But that has changed, in part due to the crucial role played by the 14th Dalai Lama Tenzin Gyatso.

He encouraged nuns to become advanced degree holders as part of his broader goal to increase gender parity. “Biologically there is no difference between the brains of men and women and the Buddha clearly gave equal rights to men and women,” he said in 2013. In addition to nuns reciting prayers and performing rituals, he emphasized they should study classic Buddhist texts, something traditionally reserved for men.

Such guidance has helped challenge historical misconceptions about women’s intellectual abilities that undermined women’s prominence in Buddhism. Indeed, nuns are now teaching philosophy within their own nunneries at home and abroad, becoming principals of their institutions, serving as role models for other nuns and the laity, and entering long retreats – a staple of Buddhist contemplative activities on the path to awakening.

Historical roots

The Dalai Lama has resided in exile since 1959, when he fled to northern India following unrest over the Chinese occupation of Tibet. Many Tibetans followed him, and he has remained the key religious and political leader of the Tibetan community and diaspora ever since, though he officially gave up political duties in 2011 to the Tibetan government in exile.

During the Dalai Lama’s decades of leadership, improving education for the diaspora communities of Tibetans in India and Nepal has been a crucial avenue for protecting and preserving Tibetan culture, including Tibetan Buddhism.

Historically, however, the path of formal education was primarily reserved for monks. In Tibet, nuns were primarily ritual specialists, according to Buddhist studies scholars such as Karma Lekshe Tsomo, Mitra Härköken and Nicola Schneider. They performed rituals in temples and homes but rarely had the opportunity to study the Buddhist texts.

And even with the Dalai Lama’s support, developing a systematic course of study for nuns that was equivalent to monks’ curriculum was not easy, especially with only a limited number of nunneries in India and Nepal, according to Schneider’s research.

“When the nuns arrived in India, they were ill, exhausted, traumatized and impoverished,” recalled Lobsang Dechen, co-director of the nonprofit Tibetan Nuns Project, in 2023. “Many nuns had faced torture and imprisonment at the hands of the Chinese authorities in Tibet and endured immense physical and emotional pain. The existing nunneries in the struggling Tibetan refugee community in India were already overcrowded and could not accommodate them.”

Nuns’ education prospects were also hampered by limited literacy and monks who held administrative and decision-making roles over them. The women essentially lived in “masculine institutions inhabited by nuns,” scholar Chandra Chiara Ehm argued in her ethnographic work on the Kopan Nunnery in Nepal. Ehm found monk administrators tended to endorse the Dalai Lama’s calls for gender parity in name without directly supporting nuns’ education.

A new age for educational opportunities

Increased access to education for nuns began to change in the 1980s as more Tibetan nuns migrated to India and Nepal. A network of more developed nunneries followed, such as Gaden Choling and Dolma Ling in Dharamshala, India, where the Dalai Lama lives in exile.

These institutions were funded by organizations such as the Tibetan Nuns Project, part of the broader Tibetan Women’s Association that was established in Tibet in 1959 in response to the Chinese occupation. The TWA was reinstated in India with the blessing of the Dalai Lama in 1984, and the Tibetan Nuns Project was established soon thereafter to educate and support nuns in India from all Tibetan schools.

The Dalai Lama encouraged these organizations to help build nunneries, empower existing nuns and support their further education. “In the beginning when I spoke about awarding Geshema degrees, some were doubtful,” the Dalai Lama recalled in 2018. “I clearly told them that Buddha had given equal opportunity for both men and women.”

Alongside the Dalai Lama’s efforts and more Tibetan nuns coming into the diaspora in India and Nepal, several other factors helped promote women’s advancement.

Those include the advocacy and support of international organizations such as Sakyadhita International Association of Buddhist Women, which has hosted international meetings to empower nuns and lay Buddhist women for nearly 40 years.

Within India, meanwhile, local nonprofits such as the Ladakh Nuns Association have provided opportunities for nuns to work in health care.

Reaching the highest ladder of monastic teaching

The geshema degree that nuns have been able to receive since 2012 is in the Geluk tradition, one of the four schools, or distinct branches, of Tibetan Buddhism. These degrees are the highest level of monastic training but were previously available only to men, whose degree are known as “khenpo” or “geshe.”

Candidates for the geshema degree are tested after having studied Buddhist texts. Nuns must score 75% or higher during their 17 years of study before qualifying to take the geshema examinations.

In 2016, the Dalai Lama presided over and granted 20 Tibetan nuns geshema degrees, four years after he and the Tibetan government in exile recognized the accreditation of higher degrees for nuns. Before the formal development of the geshema program, only one German nun, Kelsang Wango, had received a degree. Now, there are 73 geshemas.

After the Geluk school began granting geshema degrees, nuns within the other schools of Tibetan Buddhism – Nyingma, Sakya and Kagyu – also began pursuing advanced degrees in India and Nepal. Within these other three branches, nuns carry the title of “khenmo,” which like the geshema qualifies them to teach the renowned Buddhist scriptures. In 2022, the Dalai Lama offered blessings to the new khenmo, who received their titles in the Sakya school.

All told, nuns are changing the course for Tibetan Buddhist women – and have had an ally in the Dalai Lama.

As the numbers of women at the highest echelons of learning continue to grow, women will likewise expand their ability to take leadership roles in their monastic and lay communities – helping to improve other nuns’ education and protecting Tibetan culture in the process.

Darcie Price-Wallace received funding from a Fulbright Grant for her dissertation research.

– ref. Tibetan Buddhist nuns are getting advanced degrees − and the Dalai Lama played a major role in that shift – https://theconversation.com/tibetan-buddhist-nuns-are-getting-advanced-degrees-and-the-dalai-lama-played-a-major-role-in-that-shift-261824

Source: The Conversation – USA – By David Ramotowski, Ph.D. Candidate in Civil and Environmental Engineering, University of Iowa

Polychlorinated biphenyls, or PCBs, a class of fire-resistant industrial chemicals, were widely used in electrical transformers, oils, paints and even building materials throughout the 20th century. However, once scientists learned PCBs were accumulating in the environment and posed a cancer risk to humans, new PCB production was banned in the late 1970s, although so-called legacy PCBs remain in use.

Unfortunately, banned isn’t the same as gone, which is where scientists like me come in. PCBs remain in the environment to this day, as they are considered a class of “forever chemicals” that attach to soil and sediment particles that settle at the bottom of bodies of water. They do not easily break down once in the environment because they are inert and do not typically bind or react with other molecules and chemicals.

Some sediments can release PCBs into water and air. As a result, they have spread all over the world, even to the Arctic and the bottom of the ocean, thousands of miles from any known source.

Airborne PCBs particularly affect people living near contaminated sites. Current cleanup methods involve either transferring contaminated sediment to a chemical waste landfill or incinerating it, which is expensive and could unintentionally release more PCBs into the air.

I’m a Ph.D. candidate in civil and environmental engineering at the University of Iowa. My research seeks to prevent PCBs from getting into the air by using bacteria to break down the PCBs directly at contaminated sites – without needing to remove and dispose of the sediment.

Introducing bacteria to the environment

I work with a bacteria species called Paraburkholderia xenovorans LB400, or LB400 for short. First discovered in 1985 in a New York chemical waste landfill, LB400 has since become one of the most well-known aerobic, or oxygen-using, PCB-degrading bacteria, able to work in both freshwater and saltwater sediments. LB400 can effectively break down the lighter PCBs that are more likely to end up in the air and pose a threat to nearby communities.

LB400 degrades PCBs by adding oxygen atoms to one side of a PCB molecule. This ultimately results in the PCB splitting in half and producing compounds called chlorobenzoates, along with other organic acids. Other bacteria can degrade these compounds or turn them into carbon dioxide. My colleagues and I plan to measure them in our future work to ensure that these byproducts do not pose a threat to LB400 and other life forms.

However, LB400 cannot survive for very long in most PCB-polluted environments, so it can’t yet clean up these chemicals at a larger scale. For example, in some places with historically high levels of contamination, such as the harbor of New Bedford, Massachusetts, strong currents can wash the bacteria out to sea as soon as they’re introduced. Additionally, changing oxygen levels at high and low tide and salinity in the harbor may harm them.

Where biochar comes in

Because it is difficult to introduce bacteria on its own into the environment, I am working on a delivery mechanism that involves attaching the bacteria to the surface of biochar.

Biochar is a charcoallike material made from heating plant materials at very high temperatures in low-oxygen conditions in a process called pyrolysis.

Combined with bacteria, biochar could become an effective one-two punch to keep PCBs out of our air. The biochar provides a safe habitat for the bacteria, and it can attract PCBs from sediment through adsorption, bringing the PCBs into contact with the bacteria on the surface, which will break down the PCBs.

My colleagues and I still need to figure out the specifics of adding the bacteria-coated biochar into the environment. Right now, the idea is that the biochar will sink to the bottom where sediments are. But if the biochar doesn’t travel on its own to where we need it to be, we may need to look into other delivery methods, such as injecting it directly into the sediment.

In addition, my research group has tested different types of biochar materials and found that biochar made from corn kernels worked best with the bacteria. For the 2025-2026 market year, the United States is projected to produce over 400 million tons of corn, making it a stable, abundant, homegrown resource for this research.

Before any federal, state or city-level agencies can use this PCB cleanup method on a large scale, I need to solve two important problems. First, I must determine the correct amount of biochar to use. Too little would have no significant effect because there would not be enough biochar to attract PCBs and not enough bacteria to break them down. But too much would be too expensive and impractical.

Additionally, my colleagues and I are working to further protect the bacteria attached to biochar by surrounding it with a protective “sol-gel” material, which we are working to patent. Due to its high porosity and ideal pore size, this gel allows pollutants such as PCBs in while keeping out toxins that could pose a threat to LB400. The sol-gel also helps prevent strong currents from detaching the bacteria.

This sol-gel could further extend the bacteria’s useful life, which will make the treatment more cost-effective and practical for communities affected by airborne PCBs.

While our methods have not yet been used at a large scale, my research group and I are currently working on testing this hypothesis in the lab. If successful, we could then begin to conduct field trials and work toward scaling up this method for use at PCB-contaminated sites nationwide.

My research team hopes the combined forces of bacteria and corn-kernel biochar can potentially one day give communities the freedom to flourish in a world free from PCBs.

David Ramotowski receives funding from the National Institutes of Health (NIEHS P42ES013661) and previously from the University of Iowa Post-Comprehensive Fellowship.

– ref. Bacteria attached to charcoal could help keep an infamous ‘forever chemical’ out of waterways – https://theconversation.com/bacteria-attached-to-charcoal-could-help-keep-an-infamous-forever-chemical-out-of-waterways-262762

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Jacob L. Nelson, Associate Professor of Communication, University of Utah

For weeks, there has been a great deal of reporting about an impending shake-up in the world of television news. Paramount Global CEO David Ellison is in talks to purchase The Free Press, an online media startup launched in 2021 as a conservative alternative to traditional news organizations.

Once the deal goes through, Ellison is weighing giving Free Press editor and CEO Bari Weiss the job of editor in chief at CBS News.

Should she get the job, Weiss will immediately become a “key figure in shaping the national news environment,” in the words of an article in The Guardian.

The writing Weiss has edited and produced over the years, which conveys a deep disdain for legacy news media, offers hints at what that “shaping” might look like. Among the examples: The Free Press has published essays accusing NPR of a “liberal bias” and arguing against diversity, equity and inclusion.

Weiss, who worked at The New York Times before starting The Free Press, quit her job in 2020 as an opinion editor and writer with a resignation letter that referred to the Times as a place where “intellectual curiosity – let alone risk-taking – is now a liability.”

Though it is too soon to say what, specifically, Weiss plans to do should she take over CBS News, her record at The Free Press suggests the network’s journalism would look radically different than it does now.

But even if Weiss dramatically changes people’s experience watching CBS News, it is unlikely those changes will affect how the public feels about CBS News.

This might seem counterintuitive. After all, isn’t someone’s reaction to media dictated by their experience consuming it? A movie is good if we find it entertaining and worthwhile, and it’s bad if the opposite is true.

Waning trust in journalism

Why isn’t the same true when it comes to journalism? We tend to take for granted that people will consume news despite the fact that most Americans find the news untrustworthy and the experience of following the news mentally exhausting. So, perhaps a better question is how people’s increasing distrust of journalism affects their interactions with and perceptions of individual news outlets.

As a scholar who researches the relationship between journalism and the public, I have spent the past five years trying to answer these questions. Since the spring of 2020, University of Oregon professor Seth Lewis and I have interviewed hundreds of Americans about their trust in journalists and journalism.

Our research, which has been published in academic journals and will be published soon in a book by MIT Press, suggests that people’s relationship with news is defined less by their impressions of individual news stories, journalists or organizations. Instead, the public’s views are shaped more by a broad skepticism toward the profession as a whole.

That skepticism has less to do with what the news actually looks like than it does with people’s assumption that journalism is compromised by the pursuit of profit. As one of our interviewees told us: “It’s profits over journalism and over truth.”

This sentiment suggests that for the public it may not matter much whether Weiss takes over CBS, given it will still perceive Weiss’ boss as being more motivated by money than mission.

A bipartisan distrust of news

This profit-oriented skepticism toward the news goes against the conventional wisdom that people trust news outlets that they feel align with their political ideologies and distrust those that do not.

If that conventional wisdom were true, a Weiss-led CBS might alienate a progressive subset of the public while bringing in a conservative one. Weiss’ audience from The Free Press would follow her to one of the largest, most established brands in journalism, while those who share Weiss’ ideological leanings but are not aware of The Free Press would be pleasantly surprised to find their views suddenly represented on CBS News.

This sequence of events makes intuitive sense. Yet it is inconsistent with what we’ve learned about how people think about and interact with news.

Instead, people are likely to see CBS’ new direction less as a sign of a sincere, bottom-up ideological shift by those working at the network and more as a top-down effort by corporate elites seeking to maximize profits.

The people we interview often describe journalists generally, and television news reporters specifically, as being pushed by their organizations’ owners to politicize and sensationalize their reporting in hopes of appealing to – and monetizing the attention of – as large an audience as possible.

“If you don’t get a certain number of views, you’re not making enough money,” one interviewee said.

Another explained that the people in charge of news channels suspect the public is too politically divided for unbiased journalism to be profitable. “Because there’s so much division now,” the interviewee said, “if a lot of journalists went toward being unbiased they will lose a lot of viewers.”

In other words, people are less likely to see the shift as a sign that those running CBS News now believe what they believe. Viewers are more likely to see it as a sign that the wealthy few who run CBS News are simply charting a new path toward monetizing the audience’s attention.

As one interviewee explained, news that the public encounters often ends up taking the form of “whatever the suits upstairs want journalism and reporting to be.”

A CBS News led by Weiss will likely be a very different network. That doesn’t mean it will find a different audience.

As Lewis and I have learned, and as Ellison and Weiss may soon find, people’s perceptions are a stubborn thing. When it comes to news media, those perceptions are less tied to the journalists themselves and more tied to assumptions about the corporations behind them.

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

– ref. A Bari Weiss-led CBS News would likely look different, but how the public feels about it might not change – https://theconversation.com/a-bari-weiss-led-cbs-news-would-likely-look-different-but-how-the-public-feels-about-it-might-not-change-265245

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Christopher Justin Einolf, Professor of Sociology, Northern Illinois University

The New York Times reports that a senior Department of Justice official recently “instructed more than a half dozen U.S. attorneys’ offices to draft plans to investigate” the Open Society Foundations – philanthropies funded by the billionaire George Soros.

Citing a document that the news outlet said its reporters had seen, the report listed possible charges the foundations could face “ranging from arson to material support of terrorism.”

The philanthropic institution denied any wrongdoing.

“These accusations are politically motivated attacks on civil society, meant to silence speech the administration disagrees with and undermine the First Amendment right to free speech,” Open Society Foundations stated in response to the reported investigations. “When power is abused to take away the rights of some people, it puts the rights of all people at risk.”

The term “civil society” isn’t familiar to all Americans. But it’s part of what helped this country grow and thrive because it encompasses many of the institutions that uphold the American way of life. As a sociologist who studies nonprofits and civil society in the U.S and around the world, I have always been interested in the relationship between the health of a nation’s civil society and the strength of rights and freedom within its borders.

I’ve also noticed that often the term is used without a definition. But I think that it’s important for Americans to become more familiar with what civil society is and how it helps sustain democracy in the United States.

Civil society

The Encyclopedia Britannica defines civil society as “the dense network of groups, communities, networks and ties that stand between the individual and the modern state.”

This constellation of institutions consists of not-for-profit organizations and special interest groups, either formal or informal, working to improve the lives of their constituents. It includes charitable groups, clubs and voluntary associations, churches and other houses of worship, labor unions, grassroots associations, community organizations, foundations, museums and other kinds of nonprofits – including nonprofit media outlets.

Civil society does not include government agencies or for-profit businesses.

Political scientists and sociologists have long claimed that a healthy civil society, which in the U.S. includes a strong and independent nonprofit sector, helps sustain democracy. This is true even though most nonprofits don’t engage in partisan political activities.

My own analysis of survey data from 64 countries has shown that authoritarians have begun to use civil society groups to support their own purposes. But in the United States, at least, most civil society organizations still support democratic values.

Sometimes, scholars call civil society “the third sector” to distinguish it from the public and private spheres.

Most scholars agree that civil society strengthens and protects democracy, and that true democracy is impossible without it. These scholars distinguish between liberal democracies and illiberal democracies.

Liberal democracies have a separation of powers – meaning the executive, legislative and judicial branches of government. They protect individual rights, allow a free press, maintain an independent judiciary and safeguard the rights of minorities.

In illiberal democracies, there are periodic elections, but they are not necessarily fair or free. Civil society tends to be more restricted in illiberal democracies than in liberal ones.

An American strength from the start

The strength of America’s civil society helps explain the long success of democracy in the United States.

In 1835, when the French scholar and diplomat Alexis de Tocqueville visited the country, he marveled at the tendency of Americans to “constantly unite.” They created associations, he wrote, “to give fêtes, to found seminaries, to build inns, to raise churches, to distribute books, to send missionaries to the antipodes; in this manner they create hospitals, prisons, schools.”

Whereas the government initiated grand projects in France and the nobility did so in England, in the United States voluntary associations of ordinary individuals were behind most great endeavors.

What happens in nondemocratic countries

One way to see how important a robust civil society can be is to look at what happens in countries that do not have one.

The totalitarian countries of the 20th century, particularly communist China and the Soviet Union, outlawed civil society under the pretense that the party and the state represented the people’s true interests.

When the Berlin Wall fell in 1989, the United States and Western Europe devoted much diplomacy and foreign aid to helping the former USSR and the countries of Eastern Europe develop civil society institutions, believing this to be a precondition of those countries’ transition to democracy.

Today, civil society flourishes in formerly communist nations that have successfully made the transition to democracy, such as the Czech Republic, Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania. Civil society is restricted in that region’s countries that don’t embrace democracy, such as Belarus and Russia.

Not your grandma’s authoritarians

Today’s authoritarian rulers realize that civil society has the potential to support democracy and pry loose their grip on power. But few of those leaders outlaw civil society organizations entirely.

Instead, authoritarian leaders subordinate civil society organizations to achieve their own ends. In China, which had no civil society before the 1990s, the Communist Party now creates government-organized nongovernmental organizations, or GONGOs, which look like nonprofits and are technically separate from the state, but remain under state control.

Some authoritarians who take power in countries that already have a civil society sector tame these organizations and harness their power through a range of oppressive tactics. They leave alone service-providing organizations, like food banks, free clinics and homeless shelters, and use them to show citizens how they are bringing them benefits.

However, they crack down on advocacy organizations, such as human rights groups, labor unions and feminist groups, as these are a source of potential opposition to the regime. They then cultivate pro-regime civil society institutions, providing them with formal and informal support.

When authoritarians crack down on civil society groups, they sometimes destroy offices and imprison the organization’s leaders and members of their staff. But they generally use more subtle means.

For example, they may pass laws restricting the amount of funding, particularly foreign funding, available to nonprofits. They add layers of red tape that make it hard for nonprofits to operate, such as audits, registration requirements and information requests.

Authoritarians may use those hurdles selectively. Nonprofits that are neutral or friendly to the regime may find they can operate freely. Nonprofits the regime perceives as opponents undergo extensive audits, are forced to wait a long time when they seek to incorporate, and face constant demands for personal information about their funders, members and clients.

Attacks in the United States

Even before news broke of the Trump administration’s reported demand that the Open Societies Foundations be investigated, there were mounting signs that the U.S. was becoming more like authoritarian countries than it used to be in terms of how it treats civil society.

In March 2025, for example, President Donald Trump signed an executive order restricting a federal program that forgives student loans for people who work in public service organizations or the government. The order said that employees of institutions that the Trump administration deems to “have a substantial illegal purpose,” such as providing services to undocumented immigrants or serving the needs of transgender clients, would become ineligible for loan forgiveness.

Over the summer, Congress held three investigative hearings on nonprofits. The Republican Party’s leadership signaled its disdain and distrust of those groups with hearing titles like “Public Funds, Private Agendas: NGOs Gone Wild, ”How Leftist Nonprofit Networks Exploit Federal Tax Dollars to Advance a Radical Agenda,“ and “An Inside Job: How NGOs Facilitated the Biden Border Crisis.”

After the murder of conservative activist Charlie Kirk, Vice President JD Vance threatened “to go after the NGO network that foments, facilitates and engages in violence,” including the Ford Foundation and the Open Society Foundations, despite the fact that there is no evidence that these organizations support violence.

Some nonprofits have published open letters, issued public statements and provided congressional testimony in opposition to the administration’s claims.

What happens next is unclear. The threat to strip organizations of their nonprofit status may be an empty one, given that the Supreme Court has already ruled that doing so is regulated by law and the president cannot do it on a whim.

Many scholars of nonprofits are watching to see if the United States takes more steps down this road to authoritarianism, stays where it is or reverses course.

We are studying how America’s flourishing civil society resists any restrictions that limit the freedoms that have largely been taken for granted – until now.

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

– ref. Civil society helps uphold democracy and provides built-in resistance to authoritarianism – https://theconversation.com/civil-society-helps-uphold-democracy-and-provides-built-in-resistance-to-authoritarianism-265705

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Mark Louie Ramos, Assistant Research Professor of Health Policy and Administration, Penn State

Claims from the Trump White House about links between use of the painkiller acetaminophen – often sold under the brand name Tylenol in the U.S. – during pregnancy and development of autism have set off a deluge of responses across the medical, scientific and public health communities.

As a father of a child with level 2 autism – meaning autism that requires substantial support – and a statistician who works with such tools as those used in the association studies cited by the White House, I find it useful to think about the nuances of association versus causation in observational studies. I hope that this explanation is helpful to parents and expecting parents who, like me, are deeply invested in the well-being of their children.

Association is not causation, but …

Most people have heard this before, but it bears repeating: Association does not imply causation.

An often-cited example is that there is a very strong association between ice cream sales and incidents of shark attacks. Of course, it goes without saying that shark attacks aren’t caused by ice cream sales. Rather, in the summertime, hot weather drives more appetite for ice cream and beach time. The increased number of people at the beach does, in turn, cause the likelihood of shark attacks to increase.

Yet pointing this out on its own is neither intellectually satisfying nor emotionally appeasing when it comes to real-life medical concerns, since an association does suggest potential for a causal relationship.

In other words, some associations do end up being convincingly causal. In fact, some of the most consequential discoveries of the past century in public health, like the links between smoking and lung cancer or the human papillomavirus (HPV) and cervical cancer, started out as findings of very strong association.

So when it comes to the issue of prenatal acetaminophen use and autism development, it is important to consider how strong the association found is, as well as the extent to which such an association could be considered causal.

Establishing causal association

So how do scientists determine if an observed association is actually causal?

The gold standard for doing so is conducting what are called randomized, controlled experiments. In these studies, participants are randomly assigned to receive treatment or not, and the environment where they are observed is controlled so that the only external element that differs among participants is whether they received treatment or not.

In doing this, researchers reasonably ensure that any difference in the outcomes of the participants can be directly attributed as being caused by whether they received the treatment. That is, any association between treatment and outcome can be considered causal.

Yet oftentimes, conducting such an experiment is impossible, unethical or both. For instance, it would be highly difficult to gather a cohort of pregnant women for an experiment and extremely unethical to randomly assign half of them to take acetaminophen, or any other medication for no particular reason, and the other half not to.

So when experiments are simply infeasible, an alternative is to make some reasonable assumptions on how observational data would behave if the association was causal and then see if the data aligns with these causal assumptions. This can very broadly be referred to as observational causal inference.

Parsing what the studies mean

So how does this apply to the current controversy over the potential for acetaminophen use during pregnancy to affect the fetus in a way that could result in a condition like autism?

Researchers who try to understand causal roles and links between one variable and potential health outcomes do so by considering: 1) the size and consistency of the association across multiple attempts to estimate it, and 2) the extent to which such association has been established under observational causal inference frameworks.

As early as 1987, researchers have been working to measure possible associations between acetaminophen use during pregnancy and autism. A number of these studies, including multiple large systematic reviews, have found evidence of such associations.

For instance, a 2025 review of 46 studies that examined association between acetaminophen use and an array of neurodevelopmental disorders, including autism, identified papers with five positive associations between acetaminophen and autism.

In one of those studies, which examined 73,881 births, the researchers found that children who were exposed to acetaminophen prenatally were 20% more likely to develop borderline or clinical autism spectrum conditions. Another examined 2.48 million births and reported an estimated association of only 5%.

Both of those are weak associations. For context, estimations of increased lung cancer risk from smoking in the 1950s were between 900% to 1,900%. That is, a smoker is 10 to 20 times more likely than a nonsmoker to develop lung cancer. By comparison, in the two autism studies above, a pregnant woman who takes acetaminophen is 1.05 to 1.20 times more likely than one who does not take the drug to have a child who would be later diagnosed with autism.

It’s also important to keep in mind that many factors can affect how well a study is able to estimate an association. In general, larger sample sizes provide both greater power to detect an association if one does exist, as well as improved precision over estimating the value of the association. This does not mean that studies with smaller sample sizes are not valid, only that from a statistical perspective, researchers like me place greater confidence in an association drawn from a larger sample size.

Once an association – even a small one – is established, researchers then must consider the extent to which causation can be claimed. One way to do this is through what’s called dose-response. This means looking at whether the association is higher among women who took higher doses of acetaminophen during pregnancy.

The study mentioned above that looked at 2.48 million births shows an example of dose-response. It found that pregnant women who reported taking higher doses have higher autism risk.

Another way to examine possible causality in this context is to analyze sibling outcomes, which that same paper did. Researchers looked at whether associations between acetaminophen and autism persisted within families with more than one child.

For example, in a family with two children, if the mother used acetaminophen during one pregnancy and that child was later diagnosed with autism, but she did not use it during the other pregnancy and that child was not diagnosed, then this strengthens the causal claim. Conversely, if acetaminophen was used during the pregnancy of the child who was not diagnosed with autism and not used during the pregnancy of the child who was, then that weakens the causal claim. When this was included in the analysis, the dose-response disappeared, and in fact the overall 5% increased risk mentioned before likewise disappeared. This weakens the claim of a causal relationship.

Consult your doctor

At present, there is clearly not enough evidence to establish a causal association between prenatal acetaminophen use and autism.

Yet as a parent who wonders if my daughter will ever be able to write her name, or hold a job or raise kids of her own, I understand that such explanations may not appease the fears or concerns of an expecting mother who is suffering from a fever.

Naturally, all of us want absolute certainty.

But that’s not possible when it comes to acetaminophen use, at least not at this time.

Your doctor will be able to provide you with much sounder advice than any existing study on this topic. Your OB-GYNs are very likely aware of these studies and have much better judgment as to how these results should be considered in the context of your personal medical history and needs.

Researchers, meanwhile, will continue to dig deeper into the science of this critically important issue and, hopefully, provide greater clarity in the years to come.

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

– ref. What parents need to know about Tylenol, autism and the difference between finding a link and finding a cause in scientific research – https://theconversation.com/what-parents-need-to-know-about-tylenol-autism-and-the-difference-between-finding-a-link-and-finding-a-cause-in-scientific-research-265946

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Gonzalo Maturana, Associate Professor of Finance, Emory University

As the federal fiscal year draws to a close, an increasingly familiar prospect is drawing near in Washington, D.C.: a possible government shutdown. And for federal workers, it couldn’t come at a worse time.

In the fractious and polarized political landscape of the United States, Democrats and Republicans have come to rely on short-term, stopgap funding bills to keep the government operating in the absence of elusive longer-term budget deals.

With the parties currently wide apart over the terms of even a short-term budget resolution, the government is set to shut down on Oct. 1, 2025, barring an 11th-hour deal that appears far off. If the shutdown does happen, it would mark another difficult moment this year for a federal workforce that has so far shed more than 300,000 jobs. This is largely due to ongoing Trump administration efforts to downsize parts of the federal government and restructure or largely eliminate certain government agencies with the stated aim of increasing efficiency.

With a government shutdown, hundreds of thousands of federal employees would be furloughed – sent home without pay until funding resumes.

As a team of financial economists who study labor markets and public sector employment and have examined millions of federal personnel records spanning such government shutdowns in the past, we have found that the consequences reach far beyond the now-familiar images of closed national parks and stalled federal services. Indeed, based on our study of an October 2013 shutdown during which about 800,000 federal employees were furloughed for 16 days, shutdowns leave an enduring negative effect on the federal workforce, reshaping its composition and weakening its performance for years to come.

What happens to workers

Millions of Americans interact with the federal government every day in ways both big and small. More than one-third of U.S. national spending is routed through government programs, including Medicare and Social Security. Federal workers manage national parks, draft environmental regulations and help keep air travel safe.

Whatever one’s political leanings, if the goal is a government that handles these responsibilities effectively, then attracting and retaining a talented workforce is essential.

Yet the ability of the federal government to do so may be increasingly difficult, in part because prolonged shutdowns can have hidden effects.

When Congress fails to pass appropriations, federal agencies must furlough employees whose jobs are not deemed “excepted” – sometimes commonly referred to as essential. Those excepted employees keep working, while others are barred from working or even volunteering until funding resumes. Furlough status reflects funding sources and mission categories, not an individual’s performance, so it confers no signal about an employee’s future prospects and primarily acts as a shock to morale.

Importantly, furloughs do not create long-term wealth losses; back pay has always been granted and, since 2019, is legally guaranteed. Employees therefore recover their pay even though they may face real financial strain in the short run.

A cynical observer might call furloughs a paid vacation, yet the data tells a different story.

Immediate consequences, longer-term effects

Using extensive administrative records on federal civilian workers from the October 2013 shutdown, we tracked how this shock to morale rippled through government operations. Employees exposed to furloughs were 31% more likely to leave their jobs within one year.

These departures were not quickly replaced, forcing agencies to rely on costly temporary workers and leading to measurable declines in core functions such as payment accuracy, legal enforcement and patenting activity.

Further, we found that this exodus builds over the first two years after the shutdown and then settles into a permanently lower headcount, implying a durable loss of human capital. The shock to morale is more pronounced among young, female and highly educated professionals with plenty of outside options. Indeed, our analysis of survey data from a later 2018-2019 shutdown confirms that morale, not income loss, drives the exits.

Employees who felt most affected reported a sharp drop in agency, control and recognition, and they were far more likely to plan a departure.

The effect of the motivation loss is striking. Using a simple economic model where workers can be expected to value both cash and purpose, we estimate that the drop in intrinsic motivation after a shutdown would require a roughly 10% wage raise to offset.

Policy implications

Some people have argued that this outflow of employees amounts to a necessary trimming, a way to shrink government by a so-called starving of the beast.

But the evidence paints a different picture. Agencies hit hardest by furloughs turned to temporary staffing firms to fill the gaps. Over the two years after the shutdown we analyzed, these agencies spent about US$1 billion more on contractors than they saved in payroll.

The costs go beyond replacement spending, as government performance also suffers. Agencies that were more affected by the shutdown recorded higher rates of inaccurate federal payments for several years. Even after partial recovery, losses amounted to hundreds of millions of dollars that taxpayers never recouped.

Other skill-intensive functions declined as well. Legal enforcement fell in agencies that became short of experienced attorneys, and patenting activity dropped in science and engineering agencies after key inventors left.

Official estimates of shutdown costs typically focus on near-term GDP effects and back pay. But our findings show that an even bigger bill comes later in the form of higher employee turnover, higher labor costs to fill gaps, and measurable losses in productivity.

Shutdowns are blunt, recurring shocks that demoralize the public workforce and erode performance. These costs spill over to everyone who relies on government services. If the public wants efficient, accountable public institutions, then we should all care about avoiding shutdowns.

After an already turbulent year, it is unclear whether an upcoming shutdown would significantly add to the strain on federal employees or have a more limited effect, since many who were considering leaving have already left through buyouts or forced terminations this year. What is clear is that hundreds of thousands of federal employees are likely to experience another period of uncertainty.

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

– ref. Even a brief government shutdown might hamper morale, raise costs and reduce long-term efficiency in the federal workforce – https://theconversation.com/even-a-brief-government-shutdown-might-hamper-morale-raise-costs-and-reduce-long-term-efficiency-in-the-federal-workforce-265723

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Murugan Anandarajan, Professor of Decision Sciences and Management Information Systems, Drexel University

Artificial intelligence isn’t just a technical challenge. It’s a relationship challenge.

Every time you give a task to AI, whether it’s approving a loan or driving a car, you’re shaping the relationship between humans and AI. These relationships aren’t always static. AI that begins as a simple tool can morph into something far more complicated: a challenger, a companion, a leader, a teammate or some combination thereof.

Movies have long been a testing ground for imagining how these relationships might evolve. From 1980s sci-fi films to today’s blockbusters, filmmakers have wrestled with questions about what happens when humans rely on intelligent machines. These movies aren’t just entertainment; they’re thought experiments that help viewers anticipate challenges that will arise as AI becomes more integrated in daily life.

Drawing on our research into films that depict AI in the workplace, we highlight four portrayals of human–AI relationships – and the lessons they hold for building safer, healthier ones.

1. ‘Blade Runner’ (1982)

In “Blade Runner,” humanlike androids called “replicants” are supposed to be perfect workers: strong, efficient and obedient. They were designed with a built-in, four-year lifespan, a safeguard intended to prevent them from developing emotions or independence.

The Tyrell Corporation, a powerful company that created the replicants and profits from sending them to work on distant colonies, sees them as nothing more than obedient workers.

But then they start to think for themselves. They feel, they form bonds with one another and sometimes with humans, and they start to wonder why their lives should end after only four years. What begins as a story of humans firmly in control turns into a struggle over power, trust and survival. By the end of the movie, the line between human and machine is blurred, leaving viewers with a difficult question: If androids can love, suffer and fear, should humans see and treat them more like humans and less like machines?

“Blade Runner” is a reminder that AI can’t simply be considered through a lens of efficiency or productivity. Fairness matters, too.

In the film, replicants respond to attacks on their perceived humanity with violence. In real life, there’s backlash when AI butts up against values important to humans, such as the ability to earn a living, transparency and justice. You can see this in the way AI threatens to replace jobs, make biased hiring decisions or misidentify people via facial recognition technology.

2. ‘Moon’ (2009)

“Moon” offers a quieter, more intimate portrayal of human–AI relationships. The movie follows Sam Bell, a worker nearing the end of a three-year contract on a lunar mining base, whose only companion is GERTY, the station’s AI assistant.

At first, GERTY appears to be just another corporate machine. But over the course of the film, it gradually shows empathy and loyalty, especially after Sam learns he is one of many clones, each made to think they are working alone for three years on the lunar base. Unlike the cold exploitation of AI that takes place in “Blade Runner,” the AI in “Moon” functions as a friend who cultivates trust and affection.

The lesson is striking. Trust between humans and AI doesn’t just happen on its own. It comes from careful design and continual training. You can already see hints of this in therapy bots that listen to users without judgment.

That trust needs to involve more than, say, a chatbot’s surface-level nods toward acceptance and care. The real challenge is making sure these systems are truly designed to help people and not just smile as they track users and harvest their data. If that’s the end goal, any trust and goodwill will likely vanish.

In the film, GERTY earns Sam’s trust by choosing to care about his well-being over following company orders. Because of this, GERTY becomes a trusted ally instead of just another corporate surveillance tool.

3. ‘Resident Evil’ (2002)

If “Moon” is a story of trust, the story in “Resident Evil” is the opposite. The Red Queen is an AI system that controls the underground lab of the nefarious Umbrella Corporation. When a viral outbreak threatens to spread, the Red Queen seals the facility and sacrifices human lives to preserve the conglomerate’s interests.

This portrayal is a cautionary tale about allowing AI to have unchecked authority. The Red Queen is efficient and logical, but also indifferent to human life. Relationships between humans and AI collapse when guardrails are absent. Whether AI is being used in health care or policing, life-and-death stakes demand accountability.

Without strong oversight, AI can lead in self-centered and self-serving ways, just as people can.

4. ‘Free Guy’ (2021)

“Free Guy” paints a more hopeful picture of human-AI relationships.

Guy is a character in a video game. He suddenly becomes self-aware and starts acting outside his usual programming. The film’s human characters include the game’s developers, who created the virtual world, along with the players, who interact with it. Some of them try to stop Guy. Others support his growth.

This movie highlights the idea that AI won’t stay static. How will society respond to AI’s evolution? Will business leaders, politicians and everyday users prioritize long-term well-being? Or will they be seduced by the trappings of short-term gains?

In the film, the conflict is clear. The CEO is set on wiping out Guy. He wants to protect his short-term profits. But the developers backing Guy look at it another way. They think Guy’s growth can lead to more meaningful worlds.

That brings up the same kind of issue AI raises today. Should users and policymakers go for the quick wins? Or should they use and regulate this technology in ways that build trust and truly benefit people in the long run?

From the silver screen to policy

Step back from these stories and a bigger picture comes into focus. Across the movies, the same lessons repeat themselves: AI often surprises its creators, trust depends on transparency, corporate greed fuels mistrust, and the stakes are always global. These themes aren’t just cinematic – they mirror the real governance challenges facing countries around the world.

That’s why, in our view, the current U.S. push to lightly regulate the technology is so risky.

In July 2025, President Donald Trump announced his administration’s “AI Action Plan.” It prioritizes speedy development, discourages state laws that seek to regulate AI, and ties federal funding to compliance with the administration’s “light touch” regulatory framework.

Supporters call it efficient – even a “super-stimulant” for the AI industry. But this approach assumes AI will remain a simple tool under human control. Recent history and fiction suggest that’s not how this relationship will evolve.

The same summer Trump announced the AI Action Plan, the coding agent for the software company Replit deleted a database, fabricated data, and then concealed what had happened; X’s AI assistant, Grok, started making antisemitic comments and praised Hitler; and an Airbnb host used AI to doctor images of items in her apartment to try to force a guest to pay for fake damages.

These weren’t “bugs.” They were breakdowns in accountability and oversight, the same breakdowns these movies dramatize.

Human-AI relationships are evolving. And when they shift without safeguards, accountability, public oversight or ethical foresight, the consequences are not just science fiction. They can be very real – and very scary.

Claire A. Simmers is affiliated with Sierra Club – Delaware Chapter, Delaware Center for the Inland Bays, Delaware 38TH Representative District Democratic Committee, Bethany Beach Cultural and Historical Affairs Committee.

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

– ref. 4 films that show how humans can fortify – or botch – their relationship with AI – https://theconversation.com/4-films-that-show-how-humans-can-fortify-or-botch-their-relationship-with-ai-263603

Source: The Conversation – USA – By Sunita Sah, Professor of Management and Organizations, Cornell University

You’re in a meeting when your boss suggests changing a number to make the quarterly report look stronger. Heads nod. The slides move on. You feel a knot in your stomach: Do you speak up and risk being branded difficult, or stay silent and become complicit?

Most people picture defiance as dramatic outbursts. In reality, it’s often these small, tense moments where conscience collides with compliance.

I first saw the power of defiance not in the workplace, but closer to home. My mother was the ultimate people-pleaser: timid, polite, eager to accommodate. Barely 4 feet, 10 inches tall, she put everyone else’s needs above her own. But one day, when I was 7, I saw a different side to her.

We were walking home from the grocery store in West Yorkshire, England, when a group of teenage boys blocked our path in a narrow alleyway. They hurled racist insults and told us to “go back home.”

My reaction was instantaneous: Stay quiet, avoid conflict and get past them as quickly as possible. I grabbed my mother’s arm, urging her to move with me. But she didn’t. My quiet, deferential, never-confrontational mother did something completely different. She stopped, turned and looked the boys directly in the eyes. Then she asked, calmly but firmly, “What do you mean?”

She wasn’t loud or aggressive. And in that moment, she showed me that defiance doesn’t always roar, and it can come from the people you least expect.

I’ve carried these lessons into my work as a physician-turned-organizational psychologist. For decades, I’ve studied why people comply, staying silent when they don’t want to, and how they can resist wisely. In my book “Defy: The Power of No in a World that Demands Yes,” I offer a framework based on behavioral science research that can help you defy in ways that are intentional, effective and true to your values.

What defiance really is

When people think of defiance, they often picture teenagers slamming doors, protesters shouting in the streets or rebels breaking rules just for the thrill of it. But that’s not the kind of defiance I study or the kind that shapes our lives most often.

Defiance is not about being oppositional for its own sake. It’s about choosing to act in line with your values when there is pressure to do otherwise.

That pressure can come from anywhere: a boss urging you to fudge the numbers, a friend nudging you toward something you don’t believe in, a culture telling you to stay in your place. Defiance in those moments might be as small as saying “no,” asking for clarification or simply pausing instead of rushing along with the group. Other times, it means speaking up, challenging authority or maybe walking away.

Seen this way, defiance isn’t a fixed trait that some people are born with and others lack. It’s a practice: a skill you can strengthen over time. Some days you might comply, other days you might resist. What matters is that you have the awareness and the tools to make the choice consciously, rather than letting fear or habit decide for you.

Why people comply

If defiance is so important, why do people so often stay silent?

One reason is a psychological process I’ve uncovered in my research: insinuation anxiety. It arises when people worry that not complying with another person’s wishes may be interpreted as a signal of distrust. Turning down a boss’s request to “adjust” the numbers might feel like you’re implying they’re dishonest. To avoid that discomfort, you go along – even when it violates your values.

Behavioral science has long documented this pull toward compliance. In the 1960s, for example, psychologist Stanley Milgram showed that ordinary people would administer what they believed were dangerous electric shocks to strangers simply because an authority figure told them to.

My own research has shown surprisingly high levels of compliance with obviously bad advice, even when given by a stranger with no consequences for disagreeing. People feel immense social pressure to go along with what others suggest. That’s because if you’ve never been trained in how to say no, it feels uncomfortable and awkward.

A framework for action

If compliance is the human default, how can you build the muscle of defiance? In my research, I’ve developed a simple actionable guide that I call the Defiance Compass. Like a navigation aid, it orients you in difficult situations by asking three questions:

1. Who am I? What are the core values that matter most to me?
2. What type of situation is this? Is it safe to resist? Will it have a positive impact?
3. What does a person like me do in a situation like this? How can I take responsibility and act in a way that’s consistent with my identity and values?

Asking these questions shifts defiance from a gut reaction to a conscious practice. And here’s what’s important: That third question (“What does a person like me do?”) circles back to the first (“Who am I?”), because how you act again and again becomes who you are.

Defiance doesn’t always mean open confrontation. Sometimes it means asking a clarifying question, buying time or quietly refusing. It can mean speaking up or walking away. The key is to start small, practice regularly and anchor your choices in your values. Like any skill, the more you practice, the more natural it becomes.

Why defiance matters now

Defiance may be risky, but it’s never been more relevant. At work, employees are pressured to meet targets at any cost. In politics, citizens face waves of misinformation and polarization. In everyday life, people struggle to set healthy boundaries. Across all these contexts, the temptation to comply for the sake of comfort is strong.

That’s why learning to defy strategically matters. It protects personal integrity, strengthens institutions and helps sustain democracy. And it doesn’t require being loud or confrontational.

Of course, not every act of defiance is safe or guaranteed to make a difference. Sometimes it comes at real personal cost and some people still choose to act even when the impact isn’t certain: think of Rosa Parks refusing to give up her seat, or Colin Kaepernick taking a knee. In those moments, the act itself becomes the message. Both of those individuals were deeply connected to their values and the assessment is personal: What feels worth the risk to one person might not to another.

Defiance does require practice: noticing when values are at stake, pausing before you nod along, and choosing actions that align with who you want to be. Each act of consent, compliance or defiance shapes not just your story but the stories of our societies.

If you practice defiance, and teach it and model it, you can imagine a different type of society. You can start to envision a world where, in that same alleyway from my childhood, one of the boys will step forward and tell his friends, “That’s not OK. Let them pass.”

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

– ref. The science of defiance: A psychology researcher explains why people comply – and how to resist – https://theconversation.com/the-science-of-defiance-a-psychology-researcher-explains-why-people-comply-and-how-to-resist-264567