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April 8, 2026

Iran ceasefire has brought a sudden fall in oil prices – but this pause underscores the volatility in the market

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Adi Imsirovic, Lecturer in Energy Systems, University of Oxford

Before the temporary ceasefire in the Gulf, the world had been experiencing the biggest oil price shock ever, surpassing even the crises of the 1970s. The scale and speed of movements were comparable to some of the most disruptive episodes in modern energy markets.

At the centre of the disruption was the US-Israel conflict with Iran and the effective closure of the strait of Hormuz. The strait is a choke-point through which roughly one fifth of the global oil supply typically flows. Under the terms of the ceasefire, it is now expected to reopen.

The use of energy as a geopolitical weapon is not new. Sanctions imposed by the US and its allies on countries such as Cuba, Venezuela, Iraq, Russia and Iran have long contributed to oil market volatility. These measures reduce the pool of freely marketable oil and increase uncertainty.

More recently, European, UK and US sanctions on Russia also reshaped trade flows and pricing dynamics. And the G7 has imposed its own price caps on Russian crude.

When it comes to the Gulf, there are alternative export routes out to open sea but their capacity is limited. Saudi Arabia’s east-west pipeline can transport around five million barrels of oil per day to the Red Sea. And the UAE’s pipeline to the city of Fujairah can move around 1.5 million barrels per day, bypassing the strait. Throughout the hostilities, Iran continued to export an estimated 1.5 million barrels of oil per day.

But even accounting for these alternatives, any disruption in the strait implies a loss of roughly 10% of the world’s oil supply. In comparison, the oil shocks of the 1970s represented around 5-7% of the world’s supply.

The effects of this supply crunch propagated rapidly through global markets. They initially hit Asian buyers before spreading to Europe and beyond. Price premiums for physical crude have surged, and prices for the three main benchmark crudes (Brent, Dubai and West Texas Intermediate (WTI)) have all risen sharply.

Crude oil and heating oil prices from December 2025 to April 2026.

At the same time, volatility in the market has also increased dramatically. Implied volatility in Brent futures has climbed from below 30% in December to around 90% more recently. Put simply, this means the price of oil was expected to change by no more than 30% in December last year, but this expectation rose to 90% recently.

In part, it reflects a fundamental imbalance between scarce physical supply and a largely unchanged volume of financial (“paper”) trading and hedging activity.

In the spot market (where purchases are made “on the spot”), prices have reflected the acute scarcity. Here, prices for physical Brent reached US$140 (£106) per barrel. Some grades have been trading at premiums exceeding US$10 above this.

Saudi Arabia’s official selling price for its flagship “Arab Light” crude has risen steeply for Asian buyers. This underscores the tightness in markets for immediate delivery and the extent of short-term pressure on demand.

But futures markets tell a different story. As the name suggests, these are where buyers agree a price for later delivery. These prices are significantly lower. This suggests that traders still expected the disruption to be temporary, with the possibility of a relatively rapid price correction should geopolitical conditions stabilise.

These expectations are not without foundation. While some refining infrastructure (such as Ras Tanura and Samref in Saudi Arabia, Ruwais in the UAE, Mina Al-Ahmadi and Mina Abdullah in Kuwait and Bapco in Bahrain among others) have been damaged, much of the core oil production capacity in the region remains intact. In theory, exports could resume within days or weeks.

In addition, a large number of tankers known as very large crude carriers (VLCCs) have been stranded in the Gulf. This deescalation should quickly release significant volumes of oil back on to the market.

Optimism or caution?

This gap between short-term panic and longer-term expectations is a key feature of the current market. It reflects the wide range of possible geopolitical outcomes.

But there are reasons to be cautious about such optimism. Control of the strait of Hormuz is one of Iran’s most powerful strategic tools. Further disruption may serve both Iran’s economic and political objectives, particularly after it has suffered such significant infrastructure damage.

The cessation of hostilities and reopening of the strait should ease immediate supply concerns. But it could also signal a deeper shift in the global security architecture that has underpinned energy markets for decades. In particular, a reduced role for the US as a security guarantor in key shipping lanes could introduce a more persistent risk premium into oil prices. This would raise consumer costs across the world for a huge variety of goods.

In such a world, the primary constraint on energy markets may shift from the availability of resources to the security of production and transport infrastructure. This could potentially embed higher volatility into oil markets over the longer term.

The negotiations will be difficult, and diverging objectives among the key actors complicate the outlook. For Iran, the conflict has been existential. For Israel, weakening Iran may be a long-term objective. And US policy goals remain less clearly defined. The widening regional dimension just adds more uncertainty.

A pause in the conflict does not mean the end of hostilities. The temporary truce may enable the oil tankers to leave the Persian Gulf, but will they dare to go back in? The uncertainty only amplifies the market volatility.

There is still the option of more releases from strategic petroleum reserves – and governments may choose to do this. However, this would be a temporary relief and would risk leaving global reserves depleted, creating vulnerabilities to future shocks. Markets would be likely to anticipate this and it would limit the effectiveness of the move in stabilising prices.

A renewal of the conflict represents the worst scenario. Sustained high prices would bring back the spectre of inflation, high interest rates, economic slowdown and growing unemployment. In a global economy already burdened with debt from the COVID crisis, there are few levers left for central banks to tackle this predicament.

Adi Imsirovic 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. Iran ceasefire has brought a sudden fall in oil prices – but this pause underscores the volatility in the market – https://theconversation.com/iran-ceasefire-has-brought-a-sudden-fall-in-oil-prices-but-this-pause-underscores-the-volatility-in-the-market-280076

April 8, 2026

Water conservation works, but climate change is outpacing it: Phoenix, Denver and Las Vegas offer a glimpse of the future

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Renee Obringer, Assistant Professor in the Earth and Environmental Systems Institute, Penn State

The Denver suburb of Castle Rock, Colo., limits water use in future developments. Homeowners are embracing water-efficient yards. RJ Sangosti/MediaNews Group/The Denver Post via Getty Images

When a drought turns into an urban water crisis, a city’s first step is often to limit lawn watering and launch a campaign to encourage everyone to conserve. It might raise water-use rates or offer incentives for installing low-flow devices.

While demand management techniques like these have had a lot of success in reducing water use, our new research suggests that they may not be effective enough in the face of climate change.

We looked at three cities in the Colorado River Basin – Phoenix, Las Vegas and Denver – to understand what each could do to increase demand management amid water shortages and how far those methods could go as temperatures rise and the Colorado River’s flow weakens.

The results suggest the region needs to be thinking about bigger solutions.

Colorado River states’ immediate challenge

The Colorado River provides drinking water to nearly 40 million people and irrigation for over 5.5 million acres of cropland. But it has experienced a significant drop in water availability in recent decades due in part to rising demand for water and a long-running megadrought in the Southwest.

To ensure that water is shared across boundaries, the seven states within the basin agreed to the Colorado River Compact in 1922, setting limits on water withdrawals from the river. Since then, the region has adopted additional rules, agreements and policies, collectively termed the “Law of the River.” But despite this compact, which the states are renegotiating in 2026, the basin’s water supply is shrinking.

Research shows that the region is likely to experience more intense, frequent droughts that last longer due to climate change, putting the water supplies for farms, people and energy systems at risk.

As researchers who study the impact of climate change on water systems, we wanted to see if demand management techniques could help under these intensifying conditions.

Getting people involved can change attitudes

Many demand management policies are reactive and only go into effect when sources run low.

These reactive policies can be successful during the scarcity period, but there is often a rebound effect: Water consumption can actually increase afterward.

We integrated survey data with a computer model of water availability and demonstrated that there can be long-term benefits to the local water supply if communities encourage positive attitudes toward conservation.

A woman in a reflective vest checks a plant along a street. Behind her, an SUV has the words 'Water Patrol' on the side. — Las Vegas has water investigators who can issue tickets for illegal water use.
Jim West/UCG/Universal Images Group via Getty Images

The survey focused on how people think about water conservation and climate change, drawing on a large body of research that shows people who care about the environment often take eco-friendly actions. Building off these ideas, we segmented the population into groups that shared similar views on water conservation and found that a large proportion of residents supported water conservation but weren’t actively participating in conservation programs within their communities.

We then used the computer model to explore how changing attitudes, and subsequent conservation behavior, could affect water supplies under climate change.

When participatory demand management works

Our research shows that individual actions, when implemented by a lot of people, can measurably improve water supplies’ reliability.

A great example of the benefits of long-term behavioral changes is Las Vegas.

Las Vegas is in many ways viewed as a city of excess; however, since 2002, the city has reduced its per-capita water use by nearly 60%, even as the population grew by more than 50%. It reached these savings through efforts to reduce seasonal irrigation, replace water-intensive landscaping and require new developments to be sustainable, along with the treatment and reuse of wastewater. Today, Las Vegas recycles nearly all of the water used indoors and returns it to Lake Mead.

Phoenix, another desert city, also runs successful conservation programs. These programs focus on converting grass lawns to desert-friendly landscaping and encouraging owners to fix leaks and install smart meters and low-flow devices. These programs led to a 20% reduction in water use over 20 years, while the population grew by about 40%.

Demand management is not always enough

These cities have shown that demand management can work, but there are limits on how much these techniques can do as water supplies dry up.

When we added projections of future climate change to our model, we found that conditions could lead to so little water being available that these demand management methods won’t be able to keep up.

In other words, climate change may create situations where water supplies are still severely limited, even after people reduced their consumption by up to 25%.

For example, under a plausible, moderately high emissions scenario, Phoenix’s available surface water supply was forecast to drop below the historical average by 2060. Even when we simulated higher participation in conservation programs, there was no noticeable change in the water availability, suggesting that any savings from reducing demand were counteracted by losses from upstream flow reductions. Encouraging people to use less water is a start, but there is a limit to how much people can conserve.

We found similar results in Denver under a moderate emissions scenario and in Las Vegas under a moderately high emissions scenario, indicating that even moderate climate change could lead to extreme scarcity conditions that are not manageable through demand-side changes alone.

What else cities can do

In these cases, it may be necessary to find other creative water sources, such as water reuse, desalination or limiting consumption in other sectors, such as agriculture or energy, to maintain the municipal supply.

These solutions, however, take time and money to implement. Desalination is incredibly expensive. A recently built desalination plant in Carlsbad, California, cost US$1 billion – four times the initial estimate.

A woman in a hardhat walks past stacks of tubes for making saltwater drinkable. — Carlsbad, Calif., on the Pacific Ocean in San Diego County, built a desalination plant to make seawater drinkable. It produces 50 million gallons a day, but that water is among the costliest in the region.
Allen J. Schaben/Los Angeles Times via Getty Images

Other solutions, such as reducing agricultural water use, require significant buy-in from local farmers and could result in producing less food.

Reducing the water consumed for electricity generation would require significant investment in renewable energy technologies that have lower water requirements than fossil fuels and nuclear energy.

While large-scale solutions like water reuse systems and desalination can be expensive, these costs might be necessary to maintain adequate water supply in the region, because simply encouraging people to use less won’t be enough.

Renee Obringer received funding from the National Science Foundation.

Dave White received funding from the National Science Foundation.

– ref. Water conservation works, but climate change is outpacing it: Phoenix, Denver and Las Vegas offer a glimpse of the future – https://theconversation.com/water-conservation-works-but-climate-change-is-outpacing-it-phoenix-denver-and-las-vegas-offer-a-glimpse-of-the-future-279837

April 8, 2026

City animals act in the same brazen ways around the world

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Daniel T. Blumstein, Professor of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology, Institute of the Environment and Sustainability, University of California, Los Angeles

A monkey swipes a soda in Thailand. Saeed Khan/AFP via Getty Images

The urban monkeys in New Delhi are so bold they’ll steal the lunch right off your plate. If you’ve spent time in New York, you’ve probably seen squirrels try to do the same. Sydney’s white ibises got the nickname “bin chickens” for stealing trash and sandwiches.

This brazen behavior isn’t normal for most species in the countryside, yet it shows up in urban wildlife, and not just in these cities.

Studies show that animals living in urban environments around the world exhibit common sets of behaviors. At the same time, these urban animals are losing traits they would need in the wild. This process of urban animals’ behavior becoming more similar is known as “behavioral homogenization,” and it accompanies the loss of species diversity with urbanization.

A man reads his newspaper in New York's Central Park as a squirrel rifles through his bag on the bench beside him. — Squirrels in New York’s Central Park have no qualms about rifling through your belongs and stealing your food.
Keystone/Getty Images

We study animals in urban settings to understand how humans can help wildlife thrive in an urbanizing world. In a new study, we explore the causes and the long-term consequences of these behavior changes for urban wildlife.

What makes animals in cities similar?

Cities, despite their local differences, share many of the same features worldwide: They are warmer than the surrounding countryside, noisy, polluted by light and, most importantly, dominated by people.

New York’s squirrels, New Delhi’s monkeys, gulls in coastal cities of the U.K. and other urban wildlife have learned that people are a source of food. And because people typically don’t harm the animals, city-dwelling animals learn not to fear people.

Cities drive evolution as well. Humans and the changes we’ve brought to cities have led to the survival of bolder animals, and those bolder animals pass on their traits to future generations. In genetics, scientists refer to this as the environment “selecting” for those traits.

A monkey runs up to a guest at a wedding and takes food right off the plate the person is holding. ABC 7

It’s not just sandwich-stealing that is more common among city wildlife; urban birds also sound more alike.

Why? Cities are loud and filled with traffic noise, so those who can effectively communicate in that environment are more likely to survive and pass on those traits.

For example, urban birds may sing louder, start singing earlier in the morning or at higher frequencies to avoid getting drowned out by low-frequency traffic noise.

Cities select for smart individuals and species because that’s what it takes to survive.

Animals may behave similarly in cities because they learn from each other how to exploit novel human food sources. For instance, the cockatoos in Sydney have learned to open trash bins. In Toronto, the raccoons are in a race to outwit humans as urban wildlife managers try to design animal-proof trash bins.

Cockatoos have figured out how to use a drinking fountain in Sydney. New Scientist

The buildings and bridges in cities become home to bats, birds, and other urban dwellers, at the cost of learning to use more natural nesting sites. Roads and culverts modify how and where animals move.

While rural animals may forage at a variety of places and eat a variety of foods, urban animals may concentrate on garbage bins or rubbish dumps where they know they can find food, but they end up eating a potentially unhealthy diet.

Consequences of similar behaviors

The loss of behavioral diversity is happening everywhere that humans increase their footprint on nature. This is worrisome on several levels.

At the population level, behavioral variation may reflect genetic variation. Genetic variation gives species the ability to respond to future environmental change. For example, for animals that have evolved to breed at a specific time of the year, urban heat islands can select for earlier breeding.

Reducing genetic variation leaves populations less able to respond to future changes. In that sense, having genetic variation resembles a diversified investment portfolio: Spreading risk across a variety of stocks and bonds lowers the risk that a single shock will wipe out everything.

A large white bird with a black head and curved black beak picks through a trash bin along a waterfront area. — An ibis picks through a trash bin in Sydney.
Greg Wood/AFP via Getty Images

Moreover, as animals become tamer, new conflicts between animals and humans may emerge. For instance, there may be more car crashes, animal bites, property damage and zoonotic disease transmission. Such conflicts cost money and may harm both the animals and humans.

Losing behavioral diversity is also troubling for conservation.

When a species loses behavioral diversity, it loses resilience against future environmental change in the wild, making reintroducing urban animals to the wild harder.

Losing behavioral diversity also risks erasing socially learned, population-specific behaviors, such as local migration routes, foraging techniques, tool-use traditions or vocal dialects.

For example, Australia’s regent honeyeater populations have been shrinking and are critically endangered. The isolation of having fewer of their own species around has disrupted normal song-learning behavior, making it harder for male birds to sing attractive songs that help them find mates and breed successfully.

Regent honeyeaters are learning the wrong songs. The Guardian

Ultimately, behavioral homogenization is making wildlife in cities such as Los Angeles, Lima, Lagos and Lahore behave in similar ways despite living in different environments and having different evolutionary histories.

Many of these behaviors influence survival and reproduction, so understanding this form of diversity loss is important for successful wildlife conservation, as well as future urban planning.

Daniel T. Blumstein is on the Board of Trustees of the nonprofit environmental organization The Rocky Mountain Biological Laboratory.

Peter Mikula and Piotr Tryjanowski 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. City animals act in the same brazen ways around the world – https://theconversation.com/city-animals-act-in-the-same-brazen-ways-around-the-world-279977

April 8, 2026

From a vaccine mascot to business leadership, lessons for the US from Brazil’s public health system in building public trust and keeping it

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Jessica A.J. Rich, Assistant Professor of Political Science, Marquette University

Business leaders and community groups across Brazil stepped in to counter the government’s anti-vaccine messaging and to help develop and distribute vaccines. Wang Tiancong/Xinhua via Getty Images

Public health institutions are under threat by populist governments across the globe.

From Budapest to Jakarta, Indonesia, public health agencies are being stripped of funding and independence. Meanwhile, disinformation has sown distrust in scientific experts. The results are already visible through the return of diseases once thought eliminated or controlled, like measles and whooping cough.

The United States is no exception to this trend. Since Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. was confirmed as secretary of Health and Human Services in February 2025, he has fired over 10,000 staff, cut budgets and attempted to gut childhood vaccine recommendations. Though medical and public health groups have pushed back with some success, key government health institutions face a leadership vacuum, and national public health policy has fractured into “health alliances” formed by groups of states.

Doctors and scientists across the country worry about long-term damage to the country’s health system.

As a researcher studying the politics of health care, I believe it’s helpful to look to countries that have successfully managed similar threats. As my co-authors and I have argued, Brazil’s experience offers insights into how public health institutions can preserve power and authority in the face of assault.

Much like the U.S., Brazil has a fragmented and polarized Congress, it has powerful self-interested lobbies, and it has a federal system of government. And much like in the U.S., health outcomes suffer from stark race and income gaps.

But when a populist president attacked the Brazilian health care system during COVID-19, the public successfully rallied to its defense

People hold signs during a protest against COVID-19 vaccine passports and mandatory COVID-19 vaccinations in Brazil. — Former President Jair Bolsonaro’s administration, from 2019 to 2022, shook Brazilians’ long-held trust in vaccines and public health.
Sergio Lima/AFP via Getty Images

A health system under attack

Brazil’s health system, established in its current form in 1990, provides free universal health care to all its citizens. Despite some significant flaws, including unequal access to care in poor and rural areas, its focus on preventive care is widely considered a model worldwide

Prior to the administration of right-wing populist Jair Bolsonaro, from 2019 to 2022, Brazilians had trust in vaccines. They had what public health experts call a vaccine culture, thanks to the hard work of health workers who had spent years promoting them and making them easily accessible. Vaccines even had a beloved national mascot in Zé Gotinha (Joe Droplet), a cartoon vaccine droplet with a Pillsbury Doughboy-like visage.

When COVID-19 hit Brazil in March 2020, Bolsonaro – dubbed by many as the “Trump of the Tropics” – launched unprecedented attacks on Brazil’s vaccine program. Among other measures, he fired the senior leadership of the health ministry and appointed as minister an active-duty military officer with no health credentials.

A walking vaccine droplet named Zé Gotinha – Joe Droplet – is Brazil’s vaccine mascot.
Vinicius Loures/Câmara dos Deputados via Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

Bolsonaro’s attacks on the vaccine program – a backbone of Brazil’s preventive health efforts – were especially strong. He pressured Brazil’s drug regulatory agency to ban pediatric vaccines. He blocked resources for vaccine procurement, and he spread misinformation, notoriously suggesting the vaccine could give people AIDS.

After Bolsonaro’s initial attacks on Brazil’s COVID-19 response efforts, the entire health system appeared on the verge of collapse. However, Brazil’s public health workers then marshaled broad support to defend their vaccine program.

Opposition governors offered important but limited help by producing their own vaccine guidance and procuring their own vaccines. But political support, on its own, couldn’t overcome Bolsonaro’s attacks.

That’s because Brazil’s vaccine program depended not just on independence, but also on resources to operate. And governments with an anti-science bent have many ways to deprive even well-established agencies of resources without broad congressional approval.

Brazil’s vaccine program ultimately survived because allies outside government stepped in to defend it not only with political advocacy, but by donating money and resources and with social activism.

Jair Bolsonaro launched an attack against Brazil’s health system during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Business leaders to the rescue

Businesses filled gaps in government resources with donations of private-sector funding. Two business coalitions gave a total of over 270 million real (US$54 million) to help two public laboratories, the Institute of Technology in Immunobiology, known as BioManguinhos, and the Butantan Institute.

One of the largest foundations in Brazil, the Lemann Foundation, paid for AstraZeneca’s clinical trials in Brazil. Ambev, one of the largest firms in South America, lent its logistics team to help BioManguinhos acquire supplies and equipment.

Women of Brazil, a nonpartisan network of female business leaders, even built a campaign called United for the Vaccine to help towns and cities acquire the vaccine distribution equipment they needed. They provided local health officials with cheap supplies, like coolers and refrigerators, as well as costlier investments, such as boats and even planes for carrying vaccines to the isolated communities of the Amazon.

As pulmonologist Margareth Dalcolmo, who consulted for United for the Vaccine, emphasized to me in an interview: “All their requests were met, without one cent of government money being used.”

From the ground up

Another hugely important component of defending Brazil’s vaccine program was support from trusted local grassroots groups.

When vaccines became available, community-based groups across the country jumped in to combat disinformation with their own locally produced information campaigns – especially in underserved communities.

One group I spoke to distributed 5,000 informational posters across their neighborhood. Another, Tamo Junto Rocinha, or We’re in it Together Rocinha, published a book with lessons for kids to do with their parents while school was canceled – all with vaccination information embedded. Voz das Comunidades, or Voice of the Communities, a neighborhood news service, even created a smartphone application to combat misinformation while also notifying community members of daily death tallies.

A commuter wearing a facemask gets his COVID-19 vaccine at a Rio de Janeiro bus station. — A long-term investment in building trust in public health helped fuel the groundswell of support for COVID-19 vaccine efforts.
Mauro Pimentel/AFP via Getty Images

So many grassroots groups organized to counter Bolsonaro’s attacks on COVID-19 vaccines that researchers began to map the campaigns bubbling up across the country. By early 2021, one map had identified over 1,300 grassroots efforts and over 800 organized by universities.

By August 2022, despite Bolsonaro’s disinformation campaigns, 81% of Brazil’s adult population was fully vaccinated against COVID-19. These vaccination rates equaled those of New Zealand and the Netherlands and were well above that of the United States, where only 67% were fully vaccinated at the time.

This is not to say that Brazil was immune to disinformation campaigns. Vaccination rates for some diseases, such as measles, declined, as they have across the world.

But in many ways, the attacks on Brazil’s vaccine program paradoxically strengthened it. By the end of 2022, thanks to donor support, BioManguinhos had already built a new testing laboratory, and Butantan was constructing a new vaccine production facility. Brazil even had a new national health surveillance institute. By 2024, once Bolsonaro was voted out, overall spending on the health system had increased from the prior year by 27%.

Playing the long game with public health

In my view, these emergency countermeasures in Brazil worked effectively because the country had already spent years building a foundation of trust in – and ownership of – the shared goals of its public health system.

Decades ago, in the 1980s, Brazilians successfully demanded that their politicians make health care accessible to all – driving the genesis of the country’s universal public health system, known by the acronym SUS.

Brazil’s health ministry continues to invest heavily in making sure citizens take ownership of it. Cities and towns are postered with signs declaring “SUS is ours!” or “Health care is your right!”

As I found in my recent research in Brazil, this kind of advertising makes people feel their institutions are an earned right and reduces the power of partisan messaging.

Brazil also invests in integrating health workers into the communities they serve and cultivating public trust in their expertise. Government health care workers routinely set up shop in public plazas to advertise cancer screenings or give vaccinations. They regularly visit schools, where doctors or nurses talk to young people in accessible language about what the nation’s public health system offers its citizens. As one health care worker told me: “It’s like they are constantly saying, ‘Look, the doors are open. You can come. You’ll be seen and supported.’”

These long-term relationships between communities and the public health system helped lay the groundwork in Brazil for mounting a unified defense when political turbulence threatened public health agencies. Worldwide, a long-term view toward building or strengthening these relationships may help the public embrace the idea that public health institutions are worth defending.

Jessica A.J. Rich 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. From a vaccine mascot to business leadership, lessons for the US from Brazil’s public health system in building public trust and keeping it – https://theconversation.com/from-a-vaccine-mascot-to-business-leadership-lessons-for-the-us-from-brazils-public-health-system-in-building-public-trust-and-keeping-it-267611

April 8, 2026

Middle East conflict: this ceasefire may have made Iran stronger

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Bamo Nouri, Honorary Research Fellow, Department of International Politics, City St George’s, University of London

Ceasefires are often presented as moments of relief – pauses in violence that open the door to diplomacy. But sometimes they reveal something more consequential: who has actually gained from the war. The emerging ceasefire between the US, Israel and Iran may be one of those moments.

On the surface, all sides are claiming success. Donald Trump has declared a “total and complete victory”, presenting the agreement as evidence that US objectives have been met. Meanwhile, Iran’s leadership has framed the ceasefire as a strategic achievement, with its Supreme National Security Council formally endorsing the deal on the condition that attacks stop.

But beneath these competing narratives lies a deeper reality: the content and structure of the ceasefire suggests that Iran may have emerged not weakened, but strengthened. While much of its senior leadership has been assassinated during the conflict, the regime’s ability to rapidly appoint replacements and maintain cohesion points to institutional resilience rather than collapse.

The ceasefire was not imposed by decisive military defeat. It was negotiated – and shaped – around Iranian conditions, delivering gains it previously did not have, with Tehran’s ten-point plan serving as a starting framework for negotiations rather than a finalised agreement being imposed on Iran.

Tehran’s proposals went beyond ending hostilities. They include sanctions relief, access to frozen assets, reconstruction support and continued influence over the Strait of Hormuz. They also include effective US withdrawal from the Middle East – and an end to Israeli attacks on Lebanon.

The Strait of Hormuz, through which roughly one-fifth of global oil transits, has been reopened under Iranian oversight, a clear signal of where leverage now lies. Control over Hormuz is not just strategic but economic. Iran has reportedly proposed continuing the charging of transit fees it begin during the conflict – creating a potential revenue stream at precisely the moment reconstruction is needed.

In effect, a war that involved sustained bombing of Iranian infrastructure may now leave Iran with new financial mechanisms to rebuild and potentially expand its regional influence.

The logic is paradoxical but familiar. Military campaigns are designed to degrade an opponent’s capabilities. But when they fail to produce decisive political outcomes, they often create new opportunities for the targeted state. Iran entered this war already adapted to pressure. Years of sanctions had forced it to build resilience by diversifying networks, strengthening institutions and developing asymmetric strategies.

What the war appears to have done is accelerate that process. Rather than collapsing, Iran has demonstrated its ability to disrupt global energy markets, absorb sustained strikes and force negotiations on terms that include economic concessions.

Illusion of victory

This is where the dissonance in US messaging becomes most visible. The US president may have framed the ceasefire as a “complete victory” but, tellingly, while the ceasefire deal will involve the temporary reopening of the Strait of Hormuz, which has been the US president’s main demand in recent days, talks will centre on Iran’s ten-point plan rather than the original US 15-point plan, which centred on dismantling Iran’s nuclear and missile capabilities.

The shift suggests an American search for an off-ramp. At the same time, Iran has maintained a consistent position: rejecting temporary arrangements unless they deliver structural outcomes such as sanctions relief and security guarantees.

For Washington the ceasefire halts escalation and stabilises markets. For Tehran, it aims to consolidate the leverage offered by its control of the Strait of Hormuz. This asymmetry suggests the ceasefire is not a neutral pause, but a moment that could lock in a shift in regional power.

The most decisive dimension of this shift is economic. The war has destabilised global markets – with oil prices fluctuating sharply in response to disruptions of supply. But the ceasefire introduces a new dynamic. If sanctions are eased, Iran gains access to global markets at a time of sustained energy demand. Combined with potential transit revenues and reconstruction flows, this creates the conditions for a significant economic rebound.

In effect, the war risks producing the opposite of its intended outcome. Rather than weakening Iran economically, it may instead have strengthened it.

A stronger Iran, a weaker order?

This raises a larger question: what does this ceasefire reveal about power itself? For decades, US influence in the Middle East has rested on military dominance and economic pressure. This conflict suggests both are under strain.

Militarily, the US and Israel have demonstrated overwhelming capability, yet without decisive outcomes. Iran has retained its core capacities, maintained cohesion and leveraged its position to shape deescalation.

At the same time, US and Israeli legitimacy has eroded. The war’s contested justification, civilian toll and lack of broad international support have weakened their standing, even among allies. American soft power – long central to its global leadership – is diminished. Trump’s increasingly abusive social media posts have certainly alienated even its closest allies, most of whom stayed silent in face of US threats.

Economically, Iran’s ability to influence – and potentially monetise – global energy flows gives it a form of structural power that force alone cannot neutralise. The result is a paradox: a war intended to contain Iran may have reinforced its strength.

It is still early. Ceasefires can collapse, negotiations can fail, and conflicts can reignite. But if this agreement holds – even temporarily – it may mark a turning point. Not because it ends the war, but because of what it reveals about how wars are now won and lost. Victory is no longer defined by battlefield dominance alone, but by outcomes that are economically sustainable, politically legitimate and strategically durable.

On those measures, Iran appears well positioned. The US and Israel may have demonstrated military superiority. But Iran has demonstrated something different: the ability to endure, adapt and convert pressure into leverage.

That’s why this ceasefire matters; not just as an end to a phase of conflict, but marking the moment when a war intended to weaken Iran instead left it stronger – and exposed the limits of the power that sought to contain it.

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

– ref. Middle East conflict: this ceasefire may have made Iran stronger – https://theconversation.com/middle-east-conflict-this-ceasefire-may-have-made-iran-stronger-280164

April 8, 2026

Iran ceasefire: trust will be vital but it’s in short supply right now

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Nicholas John Wheeler, Professor of International Relations Department of Political Science and International Studies, University of Birmingham; BASIC

The US and Iran have agreed a two-week ceasefire in a deal brokered by Pakistan, which will see Iran open the Strait of Hormuz to shipping while negotiations continue for a more permanent settlement.

The US president, Donald Trump, announced the agreement on his TruthSocial platform less than two hours before the deadline of 8pm EST on April 7. Hours earlier he had posted: “A whole civilisation will die tonight, never to be brought back again. I don’t want that to happen, but it probably will.”

Talks are due to begin in Islamabad on April 10, where the two sides will discuss a ten-point plan presented by Iran on April 6. The plan offers to open the Strait of Hormuz in return for a permanent end to attacks by the US and Israel. Other conditions include lifting all primary and secondary sanctions, US withdrawal from the Middle East and Iranian control of the Strait of Hormuz, with plans for a US$2 million fee for ships transiting the strait in future to be shared between Iran and Oman. Fees collected by Iran would be used for reconstruction.

The office of Israeli prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, has said that it supports the ceasefire but that the deal does not include Lebanon. But both Iran and Pakistan have said that Lebanon is part of the deal. This point of contention is likely to affect negotiations from the start.

An important issue to consider as all parties to the conflict continue to react to each other’s attempts at diplomacy is the level of trust involved. On March 31, Iran’s foreign minister, Abbas Araghchi, told Al Jezeera that Iran had “zero trust” in the US. He added that: “Twice – last year and now this year – we negotiated and the result was an attack by them. And so we don’t have any faith that negotiations with the US will yield any results.”

Iran has ‘zero trust’ in the US: foreign minister, Abbas Araghchi.

With Mark Saunders at the University of Birmingham and Chiara Cervasio at the British American Security Information Council (BASIC), I’ve been looking into the relationship between trust and distrust in international relations. The first thing to note is the importance of distinguishing between the absence of trust and the presence of distrust. In a situation where the parties involved neither trust nor distrust each other, they remain open to the possibility that negotiations could reach a state where trust develops. Where there is distrust, by contrast, at least one of the parties is sure that the other has hostile intentions.

Araghchi’s language of “zero trust”, then, is best understood as an expression of active distrust. This reflects a clear belief on the part of Iranian decision-makers that diplomatic engagement with Washington will be exploited and not reciprocated.

From Tehran’s perspective, the US has repeatedly acted in bad faith. It carried out its Operation Midnight Hammer on Iran’s nuclear facilities while engaged in active negotiations over Iran’s nuclear programme. Again, on February 28, when the US commenced Operation Epic Fury in concert with Israel, mediators had reported that negotiations were proceeding well and reliable sources suggested that a deal was in the making.

Vital role of trust

In his interview with Al Jazeera, Araghchi mentioned that the US and Iran had been able to reach a deal “one time, years ago”. This was the Joint Comprehensive Programme of Action (JCPOA) negotiated with Iran in 2015 by the Obama administration with the UK, France, China, Russia and Germany as co-signatories. The agreement significantly rolled back Iran’s enrichment programme and set up a regime of inspections which – until the Trump administration pulled the US out of the agreement in 2018 – Iran was reportedly complying with.

The JCPOA agreement only became possible because of trust at the highest levels of US-Iran diplomacy. But this has clearly now hardened into active distrust on Iran’s part.

Trust requires a willingness to be vulnerable based on positive expectations about the intentions of others. So when states enter into negotiations they have to believe in the other side’s good faith and a commitment to using diplomacy to find a deal that will satisfy the interests of all sides. This requires a “presumption of trust”: a willingness to treat the other side as potentially trustworthy.

There’s an interesting historical parallel in the Cuban missile crisis of 1962. The episode, which brought the world to the brink of a nuclear confrontation, occurred during a period where the US and the Soviet Union deeply distrusted each other. But both the US president, John F. Kennedy, and the Soviet leader, Nikita Khrushchev, came to recognise their shared vulnerability in the face of the destructive power of each side’s nuclear arsenal. This recognition enabled them to develop a bond that allowed a path to de-escalation. But in this instance both leaders believed that the other understood the stakes and the importance of trustworthiness in reducing tensions.

Araghchi’s recent statement suggests that Iran has no such presumption of trust in the US. By communicating that Iran believes negotiations will be exploited by Washington rather than reciprocated, Araghchi is indicating that the basic condition for diplomacy, and with it the promise of trust, no longer exists.

If Trump is serious about negotiations, he will have to convince Iranian leaders that US diplomacy is not a cover for further military action. The lesson is not that trust is necessary for diplomacy to begin but that it cannot operate when one or both sides think they are going to be betrayed.

Nicholas John Wheeler has received funding from the UK’s Economic and Social Research Council.

– ref. Iran ceasefire: trust will be vital but it’s in short supply right now – https://theconversation.com/iran-ceasefire-trust-will-be-vital-but-its-in-short-supply-right-now-280056

April 8, 2026

Canada and Mexico must work together to help Cuba survive its dire humanitarian crisis

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Amelia M. Kiddle, Professor of History and Associate Dean, Research and Communities, University of Calgary

The people of Cuba are facing an unprecedented humanitarian crisis due to the United States government’s embargo of the island nation. Although a Russian oil tanker recently passed through the blockade to deliver much-needed fuel, daily life remains precarious for ordinary Cubans, who are facing unemployment and shortages of food another necessities.

Building upon the historical parallels between Canadian and Mexican relations with Cuba, the federal government should partner with Mexico to expand its commitment towards essential humanitarian aid.

Both Canada and Mexico are hesitant to disturb the proverbial elephant in bed between them whose every “twitch and grunt” has an out-sized impact on both countries.

But providing aid to Cuba in its time of need could help redress past betrayals and serve as a strong foundation for improving Canadian-Mexican relations as both governments must confront the existential threat to the liberal world order posed by their largest shared trading partner.

The fact that Canada and Mexico were the only countries in the Western Hemisphere to defy the U.S. and refuse to cut ties with the country after the 1959 Cuban Revolution occupies a significant place in the national mythology of each country’s foreign policy.

Personal connections

Both Canada and Mexico have significant Cuban diasporas — with nearly 20,000 Cuban-born residents in Canada and more than 42,000 in Mexico, according to 2022 census data. These migrants have left lasting marks on both Canadian and Mexican cultures.

The personal ties between Canadian and Mexican citizens and Cubans have also been strengthened over generations by economic investment by both countries’ companies operating in the vacuum left by the U.S. and by the annual flow of tourists to the island.

Canadian vacationers, in fact, were the largest source of foreign exchange for the Cuban economy until Canadian airlines cancelled flights to the island in the face of the recent fuel shortages.

These shared connections, shaped by past foreign policy decisions, could now support greater co-operation on humanitarian aid.

Mexico’s leading role

In Mexico’s case, relations with Cuba were shaped by the revolutionary nationalism that followed its own revolution in 1910. Under the government of Adolfo López Mateos (1958–64), these ties were viewed through the lens of domestic politics and the Cold War, with the government appeasing domestic constituencies by firmly supporting Cuban sovereignty and the principle of non-intervention.

This led to Mexico spearheading the condemnation of the failed American Bay of Pigs invasion in 1961 at the United Nations, and refusing to break relations with the Cuba after the U.S. strong-armed other Latin American countries into ejecting Cuba from the Organization of American States (OAS) in 1964.

Canada’s objections to the Bay of Pigs invasion were more tepid, and it didn’t become a full member of the OAS until 1990. But nevertheless, the Canadian government also declined to toe the American line.

Prime Minister John Diefenbaker, in office from 1957 to 1963, saw that Canadians wanted the country to exhibit foreign policy independence from the U.S. Maintaining relations with Cuba became a feature of Canadian foreign policy supported by many citizens.

But even as the Canadian and Mexican governments publicly proclaimed friendship and constructive engagement with Cuba, subsequent historical investigations have shown both Canada and Mexico co-operated with successive American governments to provide intelligence on the Cuban regime.

This double dealing is well-known to historians, but it has barely registered for most Canadians and Mexicans, who continue to buy into the myths of their countries’ principled difference from the U.S.

Strengthen ties

But today, when popular opinion about the U.S. and its president in both Canada and Mexico are at historic lows, the Canadian and Mexican governments should work together to further strengthen their relations with Cuba.

Private citizens and organizations in both countries have held solidarity rallies and organized private aid missions. Expanding humanitarian aid for the Cuban people who are suffering the consequences of the U.S. government’s blockade would enable Canada and Mexico to fulfil the principled foreign policies many have assumed they’ve upheld since 1959.

Both Mexico and Canada are preoccupied by the upcoming renegotiation of the Canada-US-Mexico (CUSMA) trade agreements.

So far, Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum has been more vocal in her support for the Cuban people. Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney should take Sheinbaum up on her offer to allow foreign airplanes to refuel in Mexico, and should provide more than the $8 million in aid announced given Canada’s ties to Cuba.

Co-operating on providing aid to Cuba would build trust between the Mexican and Canadian governments at a time when both have sought to boost bilateral trade so that both countries are better able to withstand every twitch of their common neighbour.

Amelia M. Kiddle receives funding from the Social Science and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

– ref. Canada and Mexico must work together to help Cuba survive its dire humanitarian crisis – https://theconversation.com/canada-and-mexico-must-work-together-to-help-cuba-survive-its-dire-humanitarian-crisis-279542

April 8, 2026

Donald Trump’s apocalyptic and profane threats against Iran expose the unhinged language of war

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Henry Giroux, Chaired professor for Scholarship in the Public Interest in the Department of English and Cultural Studies, McMaster University

The language of war has long wrapped itself in the rhetoric of courage and the honour of vengeance, drawing on moral and religious appeals to make violence appear necessary, even just.

Today, that language has returned. As war stretches across Gaza and Lebanon, Ukraine and Iran, the words used to justify it are as brutal, self-assured and distant as ever from the suffering they conceal.

A glaring example are the social media posts of United States President Donald Trump, who in recent days warned “a whole civilization will die tonight” as his deadline for the reopening of the Strait of Hormuz loomed.

He’s also threatened to bomb Iran “back to the Stone Ages” and called Iranians “crazy bastards” in a demand that they open the strait.

The conflict with Iran, in fact, has been portrayed by Israel and the U.S. as an existential struggle between good and evil.

This is not the messaging of strategy or international law — it’s the renewed language of the Crusades, driven by ideological fervour and staged as a performance of power in which, in Trump’s world view, “might makes right.”

Biblical references

The tone is even more pronounced within segments of Trump’s political orbit, where the conflict is interpreted through apocalyptic and biblical narratives.

References to divine purpose and destiny, including Trump’s claim that he was “saved by God,” draw on a broader evangelical language that frames political conflict in theological terms.

In this environment, war is no longer a tragic necessity but a sacred obligation. This reflects a dangerous fusion of militarism, religious fundamentalism, spectacle and authoritarian politics that is redefining how military power is justified, experienced and normalized.

Religious fundamentalism doesn’t just accompany this violence; it sanctifies it. It functions as an alibi for power, cloaking destruction in the language of destiny while rendering its victims invisible. It turns domination into virtue and makes the machinery of death appear necessary, even divinely ordained.

War as sacred

This isn’t unintentional. It signals a shift in which war becomes a sacred imperative. Trump’s inner circle and his supporters often invoke scripture and religious imagery to cast violence as part of a divine plan. Some of them, like Sen. Lindsey Graham, have described the ongoing war in Iran as a civilizational or even religious war.

Pete Hegeseth, Trump’s defense secretary, expresses this world view most chillingly. He has declared that the mission of the U.S. military is “to unleash death and destruction from the sky all day long,” and has called for “maximum lethality, not tepid legality” as its guiding principle.

This reveals a policy of stripping war of restraint or law and openly aiming for annihilation. Hegseth has also invoked Crusader imagery and claimed that Trump has been ordained by God to wield military power. In his 2020 book American Crusade, Hegseth writes that those who value western civilization, freedom and equal justice should “thank a crusader.”

Domestic militarism

The same language that sanctifies violence abroad, like in Gaza and Ukraine, is similar to Trump’s calls for aggression at home — against protesters, immigrants and political enemies.

He has targeted political opponents, including James Comey and Letitia James, revoked visas for international students protesting Israel’s war in Gaza, and dismissed critics, including his Democratic opponent in the 2024 presidential election, Kamala Harris, as “radical left lunatics.”

Retribution and regarding opponents as mortal enemies are treated as justified, even necessary, blurring the lines between war-making and domestic repression.

In this environment, it’s easy for the lines between politics and theology to dissolve as well, weakening ethical restraint and defining conflict as sanctioned, even righteous, violence.

Beyond simply justifying war, the U.S. is once again framing itself as a white Christian nation, which normalizes exclusion, disposability, historical erasure and racialized violence.

Nonetheless, this fusion of faith and force is not universally accepted. As Pope Leo XIV said in his first Palm Sunday address, God is the “king of peace,” rejecting any claim that war can be divinely sanctioned.

War as entertainment

The religious framing of the war in Iran is converging with another shift: the transformation of war into spectacle.

Under Trump, violence is not only being justified; it’s being staged, estheticized and consumed, as White House promotional videos blend action-movie imagery with real footage of Iran bombings. This renders the war a stylized performance designed to excite, entertain and showcase technological power.

In this spectacle, human suffering recedes. Targets become co-ordinates, destruction appears cinematic and violence is stripped of its moral weight. What remains is the seductive image of power — war emptied of judgment.

When these efforts fuse with religious fundamentalism, the consequences can be profound. The theatrics of destruction become a sacred drama and the capacity to kill is defined as evidence of both national strength and divine purpose.

Under such conditions, war is no longer constrained by law, reason or democratic accountability. It is propelled by belief, emotion and spectacle.

Trump provides the script as his rhetoric intensifies this convergence. His suggestion that war might end when he “feels it in his bones” or his remark about bombing Iran “just for fun” shows how ignorance can become governance.

Making fascism possible

The human costs of the war in Iran are devastating. Bombing campaigns have inflicted widespread destruction across the country, with civilian casualties mounting steadily. Yet this death toll is increasingly obscured by the spectacle of war itself, reduced to background noise beneath the American celebration of military power.

The economic costs of the war to Americans are also staggering, estimated at roughly $1 billion per day, resources that could support social needs. Yet in a culture steeped in militarism, concentrated power and inequality, such considerations recede.

History offers stark warnings about such moments. The horrors of the past — from the Holocaust to the Vietnam War, the Rwandan genocide, the Pinochet dictatorship and the Iraq war — reveal how societies can be mobilized through propaganda, fear and the erosion of critical thought.

They remind us what happens when violence is normalized, power is unchecked and human life is stripped of its value. Those conditions are visible again. But authoritarianism can only endure in a culture that enables it — where war, both at home and abroad, becomes a permanent feature of social life.

What’s at stake is not only the violence unleashed abroad but the political culture it legitimizes at home. When war is staged as entertainment and justified as a moral duty, its human costs disappear from view.

A society that embraces cruelty as virtue, ignorance as governance and violence as destiny risks losing its capacity for judgment. Under such conditions, democracy does not simply erode. It is obliterated, giving way to forces that make fascism possible.

Henry Giroux 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. Donald Trump’s apocalyptic and profane threats against Iran expose the unhinged language of war – https://theconversation.com/donald-trumps-apocalyptic-and-profane-threats-against-iran-expose-the-unhinged-language-of-war-279801

April 8, 2026

Absinthe: what the ban on France’s aromatic spirit teaches us about modern day blaming and shaming

Source: The Conversation – France – By Tao Wang, Professor of Strategy, EM Lyon Business School

The potent emerald-green blend of wormwood, green anise and fennel, known as “the Green Fairy,” was once celebrated by the French society, including artists from Baudelaire to Van Gogh. By the early 1900s, France consumed more absinthe than the rest of the world put together. Yet within decades, it was banned and deemed a “national poison.”

What happened? Our analysis (recently published in Organization Studies of historical archives, newspapers, medical publications, and propaganda materials spanning 1870 to 1915, reveals a systematic scapegoating process which unfolds throughout three escalating cycles.

How absinthe became France’s public enemy

The process began with genuine social concerns surrounding the beverage, against a backdrop of alarming alcoholism rates, military defeat against Prussia, and anxieties about national decline.

Scientists, though their research was inconclusive, coined “absinthism” as a distinct pathology, claiming absinthe caused unique symptoms, including epilepsy and madness.

Here is where the dynamics become fascinating. Faced with growing anti-alcohol sentiment, producers of similar beverages – aperitifs made from nearly identical ingredients, such as anis, pastis and anisette, strategically distanced themselves from absinthe.

Advertising posters from the 1880s explicitly contrasted “healthy” tonics with “deadly” absinthe, showing death lurking behind absinthe drinkers, while beautiful women accompanied those choosing competing products. Wine producers joined the attack for economic reasons. After a devastating vine disease – phylloxera – had destroyed French vineyards, they needed to reclaim market share. Framing their struggle as patriotic – wine as French heritage versus absinthe as foreign poison – they allied with temperance movements and politicians.

Finally, even absinthe producers turned on each other. Producers from Pontarlier, the traditional production region, attacked “bad absinthe” from Paris, hoping to save themselves by sacrificing others. This internal fracturing sealed absinthe’s fate. When World War I broke out, the ban came swiftly, presented as a victory for French civilisation.

Our research identifies a recurring pattern. First, genuine social anxieties emerge, about health, national identity, public security. Then, a convenient target is identified, one similar enough to the “acceptable” actors to bear their sins, yet different enough to be expelled.

Crucially, potential scapegoats actively reposition themselves, joining the accusers to escape blame. This creates escalating momentum as the target group shrinks and attacks intensify. We term the pattern “stigma opportunity structures” – conditions that open windows for further targeting. France’s military defeat, the vineyard disease, and, eventually, war each facilitated the process.

Recognising modern day scapegoating

While the prohibition of absinthe in France in 1915 seems to be a distant historical episode, these dynamics remain disturbingly active today. Scapegoating operates as a powerful social mechanism. It often turns uncertainty, fear or political conflict into social blaming directed at certain persons or groups, based on thin, selective or simply false stories being told or repeated as if they were true. First and foremost, the effectiveness of scapegoating lies in that evidence is often beside the point for pointing fingers, creating moral panic, and potentially producing social harm.

The Covid-19 pandemic provided a stark contemporary demonstration. Fears of infection led, in many cases, to verbal or physical attacks on people of Asian descent, whom some people came to fear as spreaders of the coronavirus. Rumours, fear and false beliefs about transmission fuelled discrimination against patients and marginalised groups, driven less by evidence than by anxiety and misinformation. Crucially, this stigmatisation was not corrected by subsequent scientific clarification or political authority about how the virus actually spread.

People of Asian descent continued to face hostility long after epidemiological consensus had been established. The absinthe case shows the same pattern: once a scapegoat is identified, the ongoing momentum shapes how evidence is perceived, rather than being corrected by it.

Unfounded rage against the social media machine?

An unfolding case in real time is instructive – the debate over social media and youth mental health.

Rates of anxiety, depression, and self-harm among adolescents have risen sharply in many Western countries since around 2012.

The question is: what caused this? An obvious answer is: social media. Among parents who are at least somewhat concerned about teenage mental health, 44% say social media have the biggest negative impact on teens today. The US Surgeon General has issued advisories warning of potential harms, and legislators have rushed to propose bans and restrictions. Jonathan Haidt’s bestselling book, The Anxious Generation, has become a manifesto for this view, arguing that the great rewiring of childhood through smartphones is causing an epidemic of mental illness. Yet the scientific picture is far murkier than the public consensus suggests.

Studies show social media use is associated with higher rates of depression, anxiety and suicidal behaviour among teens, but side effects are often modest and scientists continue to debate how much of the youth mental health crisis can be directly attributed to social media.

This is not to say that social media is harmless. There are legitimate concerns about algorithmic amplification, sleep disruption, and the vulnerabilities of youth. But the rush to assign blame may have outpaced the evidence. What makes this case revealing is the gap between conviction and proof. The belief that social media is destroying a generation has taken on the quality of common sense, repeated so often that questioning it feels contrarian or even irresponsible.

Blaming social media allows us to avoid harder questions about economic precarity, educational pressure, the decline of community institutions, and the failures of mental health systems.

Blame as common sense?

The pattern is recognisable: genuine anxiety, a convenient target, actors distancing themselves from the most criticised ones, and political actors seeking visible solutions. This does not mean we should ignore concerns about technology’s effects on young people. But it does mean we should be suspicious of our own certainty and impulses.

When a society is anxious and looking for explanations, the most visible target tends to attract the most hostility, regardless of whether it deserves it.

The desire to identify clear culprits for complex problems is deeply human. But the absinthe case and its many contemporary echoes remind us that certainty about who is to blame often reflects the social dynamics of scapegoating rather than careful attention to evidence.

In a world awash with anxieties about health, immigration, identity, and inequality, caution is necessary now more than ever.

The Green Fairy’s fate reminds us that blaming feels righteous in the moment. A century later, absinthe is legal again in France, its dangers largely mythological.

What will we think, looking back, about today’s convenient culprits?

A weekly e-mail in English featuring expertise from scholars and researchers. It provides an introduction to the diversity of research coming out of the continent and considers some of the key issues facing European countries. Get the newsletter!

Tao Wang ne travaille pas, ne conseille pas, ne possède pas de parts, ne reçoit pas de fonds d’une organisation qui pourrait tirer profit de cet article, et n’a déclaré aucune autre affiliation que son organisme de recherche.

– ref. Absinthe: what the ban on France’s aromatic spirit teaches us about modern day blaming and shaming – https://theconversation.com/absinthe-what-the-ban-on-frances-aromatic-spirit-teaches-us-about-modern-day-blaming-and-shaming-279685

April 8, 2026

Une spoliation oubliée : les rescapés de la Shoah et les difficultés pour récupérer leurs biens et leur logement

Source: The Conversation – in French – By Shannon Fogg, Professor of History, Missouri University of Science and Technology

Du mobilier confisqué à des juifs dans leurs logements est livré à d’autres habitants à Boulogne-Billancourt, près de Paris, en avril 1942, après un bombardement allié. Art Media/Print Collector/Getty Images

Des dizaines de milliers d’appartements de juifs parisiens ont été pillés et réattribués pendant l’Occupation. Après la guerre, les survivants de la Shoah doivent affronter une nouvelle épreuve : récupérer leur logement et leurs biens au milieu d’obstacles juridiques et administratifs.

En 1945, une foule en colère se retrouve face à Aba Mizreh et à quatre de ses fils devant leur ancien domicile parisien. La famille juive s’était réfugiée à Lyon pendant la Seconde Guerre mondiale, pour découvrir à son retour que son appartement avait été pillé puis reloué en son absence. Malgré un avis d’expulsion, les nouveaux occupants refusaient de partir, et l’affaire dégénéra en bagarre. Après cet affrontement violent, Mizreh écrivit au gouvernement français :

« Ne suis-je pas en droit, après avoir tant souffert, de retrouver mon bien ? N’ai-je donc vraiment pas assez payé pour cette guerre ? »

Aba Mizreh, alors âgé de 68 ans, était un des 160 000 survivants de la Shoah à Paris qui tentaient de reconstruire leur vie après les ravages de l’occupation nazie. De ses 11 enfants, cinq fils avaient combattu pour la France et six avaient été déportés ; au moins deux ont été assassinés à Auschwitz.

Il souhaitait alors simplement retrouver l’appartement de trois pièces qui lui servait à la fois de logement et d’atelier de fourreur, afin de subvenir aux besoins de sa femme et de ses petits-enfants devenus orphelins.

Dans mes recherches sur la spoliation et la restitution des logements juifs à Paris, j’ai constaté que les questions de propriété sont souvent négligées dans les études sur la Shoah. Pourtant, pour les juifs en France, récupérer leur logement et leur mobilier était essentiel pour reconstruire leur vie. Ces questions sont également cruciales pour comprendre l’impact financier et émotionnel durable de la Shoah.

Ces situations révèlent également les limites des tentatives de l’État pour réparer le passé. Les lois françaises concernant la récupération des appartements, des biens pillés et l’indemnisation des dommages liés à la guerre promettaient l’égalité entre toutes les victimes du conflit. En réalité, elles ont créé des obstacles bureaucratiques et favorisé les victimes non juives de la guerre. Pour beaucoup de ceux qui ont tenté de récupérer leurs biens, la réponse à la question d’Aba Mizreh était négative : ils continueraient à « payer » la guerre pendant des années encore.

Pillage et restitution

Paris était la plus grande ville sous occupation allemande et abritait la plus importante population juive d’Europe occidentale. Tragiquement, environ 75 000 juifs vivant en France ont été assassinés pendant la Shoah. Pour les 75 % de la population juive de France qui ont survécu, reconstruire leur vie fut un processus long et difficile.

Avec la collaboration de citoyens français, les nazis ont pillé plus de 38 000 appartements privés dans la capitale, et jusqu’à 25 000 appartements laissés vides après le départ de familles juives ont été loués à des locataires non juifs. Des assistants sociaux ont estimé que près de 100 000 Parisiens de confession juive avaient été expulsés de leur logement pendant la guerre. Or, pour de nombreux juifs survivants, rentrer chez eux constituait la priorité absolue.

Les mémoires et les témoignages oraux racontent ces premiers moments du retour. Enfant, Rachel Jedinak survécut à la guerre en vivant cachée sous une fausse identité après l’arrestation de ses parents. Elle se souvenait de son retour dans le foyer familial :

« Nous avons arraché les scellés de la porte et nous sommes entrés. Il ne restait plus rien – rien du tout. Cet appartement vide – sans meubles, sans affaires, sans photos qui nous auraient permis de nous souvenir de ceux qui avaient disparu, de nous relier à nos parents – nous a fait pleurer. La perte de nos souvenirs était encore plus douloureuse que celle de nos biens matériels. »

Des survivants de l’Holocauste, comme Rachel Jedinak, qui était enfant pendant la guerre et témoigne ici pour France 24, ont dû lutter pour reconstruire leur vie à leur retour.

Récupérer puis réaménager ces appartements était à la fois une nécessité pratique et une démarche profondément émotionnelle. Leur logement offrait un lit où dormir, mais constituait aussi l’un des derniers liens avec les membres de la famille disparus pendant la Shoah. L’ampleur des pertes signifiait que la reconstruction ne pouvait se faire sans un effort coordonné du gouvernement français.

Restitution et réparations

Deux ordonnances publiées le 14 novembre 1944 traitaient du droit des locataires à réintégrer leur logement. Une autre ordonnance, publiée le 11 avril 1945, visait à restituer à leurs propriétaires d’origine les meubles retrouvés.

Ces mesures ont toutefois largement échoué à répondre aux besoins des juifs rescapés. Les lois sur le logement comportaient des exceptions qui favorisaient les nouveaux locataires non juifs, comme les victimes des bombardements alliés ou les anciens prisonniers de guerre. De plus, seuls quelque 2 000 meubles ont été restitués aux survivants ou à leurs héritiers.

En conséquence, de nombreux survivants ont dû compter sur une indemnisation pour compenser leurs pertes. Les juifs dont les appartements avaient été pillés pouvaient déposer une demande au titre de la loi du 28 octobre 1946 sur les dommages de guerre. Mais cette loi tant attendue s’est révélée être une nouvelle déception.

Le magasin Lévitan, au 85 faubourg Saint Martin à Paris — Le site du grand magasin Lévitan à Paris, où les responsables nazis entreposaient les biens volés aux juifs de Paris dans leurs appartements, avant de les revendre.
Chabe01/Wikimedia, CC BY-SA

Adoptée deux ans après la libération de Paris, la loi sur les dommages de guerre ne prévoyait que des indemnités limitées pour les biens personnels. Les victimes éligibles pouvaient recevoir 90 000 (anciens) francs – soit moins de 9 000 euros aujourd’hui – par foyer en cas de perte totale du mobilier, ou la moitié de la valeur assurée des biens volés.

Les demandeurs devaient remplir un formulaire de quatre pages et fournir des documents prouvant leur nationalité, leur situation familiale, leur qualité juridique et leurs droits de propriété ainsi que des témoignages attestant des pertes subies.

Si le ministère de la reconstruction et de l’urbanisme approuvait la demande d’un survivant, le versement n’était pas immédiat. Un échantillon des 2 750 dossiers conservés aux Archives de Paris révèle que plus de 85 % des demandeurs ont écrit au gouvernement pour réclamer un paiement plus rapide.

Un survivant écrivant aux autorités en 1948 résumait le sentiment de nombreuses victimes des pillages :

« Je crois que nous avons assez payé notre tribut et assez souffert pour que vous nous remboursiez au moins une partie de ce que les Allemands nous ont volé il y a bientôt six ans. »

Mais pour beaucoup, le processus d’indemnisation lié à la loi sur les dommages de guerre s’est prolongé jusqu’aux années 1960, soulignant l’impact économique durable des pillages commis pendant la guerre.

Une exclusion persistante

Seuls les citoyens français ou les étrangers ayant combattu pour la France pouvaient bénéficier d’une indemnisation au titre de la loi sur les dommages de guerre. Or plus de la moitié des juifs vivant en France pendant la Shoah étaient des étrangers – parmi lesquels près de 100 000 réfugiés ayant récemment fui les violences nazies.

Pendant l’Occupation, les juifs devaient porter une étoile jaune.
Archives fédérales allemandes, Wikimedia, CC BY-SA

Arthur Deutsch est né à Vienne de parents polonais et s’est installé à Paris en 1922, où il s’est marié et a eu cinq enfants. En 1938, il a déposé une demande de naturalisation, mais celle-ci n’a pas été finalisée avant le déclenchement de la guerre. Il a tenté de se porter volontaire pour le service militaire, mais n’a pas été mobilisé.

Sa famille a fui Paris pendant l’Exode et s’est retrouvée à Limoges (Haute-Vienne), où elle a été arrêtée en décembre 1940. Elle a ensuite été transférée au camp d’internement de Rivesaltes (Pyrénées-Orientales), où Arthur Deutsch a été affecté dans un Groupement de travailleurs étrangers à des travaux forcés. Lorsque la famille est revenue à Paris après la Libération, elle a découvert son appartement entièrement vide.

Arthur Deutsch a déposé une demande d’indemnisation pour dommages de guerre, qui a été rejetée en 1952 en raison de sa nationalité. Il a contesté cette exclusion en écrivant :

« Si je ne suis pas français par les papiers je le suis quand même par mes pensées, car on ne passe pas trente ans à Paris sans être assimilé, et ce ne sont pas les quatre années d’internement ni l’éventuel refus de ma demande d’indemnité mobilière qui me feront changer d’idées. »

Comme le souligne l’anthropologue Damiana Oțoiu, « les dommages psychologiques causés par les déplacements forcés, la confiscation des biens et la perte de capital social et culturel ne peuvent être compensés par la simple restitution de biens des années ou des décennies après les crimes ».

Mais pour les survivants de la Shoah à Paris, récupérer ou remplacer les biens volés représentait la possibilité de vivre avec dignité et sécurité. La lutte pour l’indemnisation et pour la reconnaissance des persécutions qu’ils avaient subies s’est poursuivie pendant des décennies après la fin de la guerre et, dans certains cas, se poursuit encore aujourd’hui.

Le financement de cette recherche a été assuré par une Seed Grant destinée aux sciences humaines et sociales, accordée par l’Office of the Vice Chancellor for Research and Innovation de la Missouri University of Science and Technology.

– ref. Une spoliation oubliée : les rescapés de la Shoah et les difficultés pour récupérer leurs biens et leur logement – https://theconversation.com/une-spoliation-oubliee-les-rescapes-de-la-shoah-et-les-difficultes-pour-recuperer-leurs-biens-et-leur-logement-279778