Category: The Conversation

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Freddie Daley, Research Associate, Centre for Global Political Economy, University of Sussex

In 2021, dozens of governments quietly agreed to stop using public money to finance fossil fuel projects overseas.

Their pledge – now known as the Clean Energy Transition Partnership (CETP) – has helped drive a 78% reduction in public finance for fossil fuel projects among signatory countries.

What makes this especially striking is where the idea came from: a grassroots campaign in the UK initially targeting the government’s export credit agency.

With governments withdrawing from climate commitments, and some administrations – most notably Trump’s – tying them to security and trade deals, international climate cooperation is increasingly fragile. Yet the CETP stands out as a genuine success among a litany of failed international climate initiatives. My new research set out to understand what made it such a success.

Climate policy (and campaigning) is messy

Many assume that international climate commitments emerge from polite diplomatic negotiations, with small changes accumulating over time. The reality is far messier. Domestic and international climate policy is fiercely contested and victories are only ever provisional, with each settlement shaping the terrain for the next battle.

My research, based on interviews with campaigners and policymakers, shows that the partnership came about through a series of political confrontations – “battle-settlement events” in the academic lingo – moments when activists, governments and institutions clashed and new compromises emerged.

The CETP traces back to a UK grassroots campaign from 2017 onwards led by environmental and human rights campaign organisations including Global Witness and Oil Change International, partly inspired by a parallel European push targeting the European Investment Bank over its fossil fuel financing.

Campaigners initially pushed for a full fossil fuel phase out. However, they soon switched to a more strategic target: UK Export Finance (UKEF). They saw this as a more achievable battle that would provoke less resistance from industry and politicians.

UKEF is a government agency that helps UK companies sell goods and services abroad. It provides loans, guarantees or insurance to reduce the financial risk of exporting.

Campaigners built up evidence and pushed parliament to investigate. The resulting 2019 House of Commons committee report found that 96% of UK Export Finance’s energy sector support went to fossil fuel projects, predominantly in low- and middle-income countries, and called for a halt by 2021. Despite these damning findings, Theresa May’s government initially refused to budge.

So campaigners upped the ante. They drew attention to the contradiction between the UK’s climate leadership rhetoric and its public funding of fossil fuel projects linked to conflict and displacement overseas. Former UN secretary-general Ban Ki-moon weighed in to urge the UK to “recalibrate its export finance policy”, while activists from the climate campaign group Extinction Rebellion covered the Treasury in red paint to symbolise its claims the government was complicit in violence and suffering. People I interviewed who were involved at the time said this created “insurmountable pressure” on the government to act.

The Cop spotlight

The announcement in August 2019 that Glasgow would host a major UN climate summit transformed the campaign. The summit, known as Cop26, became an opportunity to both expose the gap between UK climate ambition and its export policy, and to use any domestic win as a launchpad for coordinated international action.

The government felt it too. The then prime minister, Boris Johnson, wanted to use the summit to cement his image as a climate-friendly conservative, and a restructured “Cop Unit” within the Cabinet Office had genuine agency to develop ambitious policy ideas and secure buy-in across government.

Though Cop26 was delayed until 2021 due to COVID, this gave campaigners more time to build internal support and sustain the narrative that the UK government was a “climate hypocrite” in reputable outlets like the Financial Times and The Times. Johnson’s government eventually conceded, announcing a unilateral ban on public finance for overseas fossil fuel projects in December 2020. Given that his government was simultaneously consumed by Brexit and internal power struggles, it was a massive achievement.

Glasgow and beyond

With the UK ban secured, attention turned to getting other countries on board. The Cop Unit used the UK’s diplomatic relationships to convince other governments to make similar commitments at Cop26, pointing to the UK ban as proof of concept.

On the conference floor, campaigners and UK officials played ambitious governments off each other in a spirit of friendly competition. Those I interviewed for my research noted that some countries signed up before fully understanding what was required, causing some delegations to get a shock when they realised.

As the summit closed, 34 countries and five public finance institutions signed the Glasgow Statement on aligning international public finance with climate change goals. Signatories to this statement, which would go on to become the CETP, included major fossil fuel funders like Canada and the US.

Walking the talk

Then came the hard part. Keeping up momentum meant regular meetings with signatories to troubleshoot implementation, while domestically the initiative had to survive an attempt by Liz Truss’s short-lived government to kill it altogether. That threat was repelled, and arguably strengthened the initiative by reinforcing signatories’ commitment.

Implementation remains uneven. Most signatories have ended or curtailed fossil fuel finance, and the CETP has cut between US$11.3 billion (8.4 billion) and US$16.3 billion in annual public finance to fossil fuel production.

But the critical counterpart – scaling up public finance for clean energy – has lagged badly. The CETP’s own data shows clean energy financing actually fell between 2022 and 2023. The US has since exited under Trump and some signatories, including Italy and Switzerland, are still way behind on both stopping fossil finance and scaling up finance for renewables.

Yet the CETP’s impact is real. It has redirected tens of billions away from projects that would have locked in fossil fuel infrastructure for decades, and demonstrated that coordinated civil society pressure can shift both domestic policy and international norms. In a political environment where climate ambition is being systematically dismantled, that matters.

The partnership’s future is uncertain. But its journey – from a small UK campaign targeting export finance to a global coalition of governments – shows that domestic activism can still lead to ambitious and durable policy change.

Freddie Daley 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. How a grassroots UK campaign sparked a multi-billion-dollar exit from public fossil fuel finance – https://theconversation.com/how-a-grassroots-uk-campaign-sparked-a-multi-billion-dollar-exit-from-public-fossil-fuel-finance-277850

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Sarah Golding, Postgraduate MSK Lecturer, School of Sport, Rehabilitation and Exercise Sciences, University of Essex

Joint pain is often dismissed as ageing, overuse or a minor injury. But for some people it is the first sign of inflammatory arthritis, a group of immune-driven conditions that can damage joints and other organs if not treated promptly.

Inflammatory arthritis can take years to diagnose and receive treatment, with some forms taking an average of nine years. During that time, persistent inflammation can lead to irreversible joint damage, fatigue and reduced mobility.

Although there is no cure, advances in medication over the past 15 years mean many people can live full and active lives. Outcomes are best when treatment begins quickly, ideally within the first three months, often described as a critical “window of opportunity”.

Inflammatory arthritis is less common than osteoarthritis and is managed in different ways. It occurs when the immune system mistakenly attacks the body’s own tissues, particularly the lining of joints. The exact cause is often unclear.

It can begin at any age, including in childhood, and often starts in the hands and feet. Some forms affect just the spine and pelvis. Other parts of the body such as the skin, eyes, heart and lungs may also be involved. Joints can become swollen, warm and tender, and many people experience morning stiffness that lasts for hours and improves with movement rather than rest.

Early symptoms can be subtle and easy to overlook. Stiffness may be blamed on sleep, swelling on overuse and fatigue on stress or ageing. This can contribute to delays in referral and specialist assessment.

How inflammatory arthritis differs from osteoarthritis

Osteoarthritis is different. It is strongly associated with age and most often affects people from midlife onwards, particularly in the knees, hands and hips. It usually develops gradually and becomes more common with advancing age.

Inflammatory arthritis, by contrast, is driven by the immune system and often causes prolonged morning stiffness, visible swelling and fatigue that do not improve with rest or simple activity. Although osteoarthritis is far more common globally, affecting more than 600 million people, over 18 million people live with rheumatoid arthritis, the most widely recognised form of inflammatory disease.

Despite these differences, early-stage arthritis can be difficult for healthcare professionals to distinguish. Symptoms often overlap, and no single test confirms the diagnosis. Blood tests and imaging can support assessment, but results are not always definitive. Because treatment varies depending on the type of arthritis, accurate and timely diagnosis is essential.

Medications for inflammatory arthritis aim to control the immune response and reduce inflammation. These include steroids, which are generally not suitable for long-term use, and disease-modifying anti-rheumatic drugs (DMARDs). When introduced promptly under specialist care, these treatments can reduce symptoms and slow disease progression. Some people reach remission: inflammation is well controlled and symptoms are minimal or absent. A small proportion are even able to stop medication under specialist supervision.

Treatment for osteoarthritis focuses on managing pain and improving function. There are currently no medications that reverse the condition or target its underlying cause. Paracetamol, anti-inflammatory drugs such as ibuprofen, and steroid injections may help relieve symptoms. Non-drug approaches are important for both inflammatory arthritis and osteoarthritis. These include exercise, walking aids where needed, heat and cold therapies and some complementary approaches. Lifestyle also plays a key role. Maintaining a healthy weight, stopping smoking and staying physically active can all improve outcomes.

Why early assessment matters – and who to see first

Reaching specialist care quickly can make a significant difference. In the UK, new roles in primary care are helping people be assessed sooner. First contact physiotherapists (FCPs) working in GP surgeries can recognise early symptoms of inflammatory arthritis and refer patients to rheumatology specialists to begin appropriate treatment. They assess people with joint and muscle problems, request tests where appropriate and provide advice on treatment and long-term outlook. If specialist care is needed, they arrange referral directly.

First contact physiotherapists have been part of UK primary care for more than a decade. Evidence suggests the role is safe, cost effective and beneficial to patients, with patients reporting high satisfaction and doctors expressing confidence in physiotherapists’ expertise.

Arthritis is a leading cause of pain, stiffness and disability worldwide. For people with inflammatory forms of the disease, delayed recognition remains one of the biggest barriers to effective treatment. Symptoms can resemble more common joint problems, slowing referral to specialist care at the point when treatment would be most effective.

If you notice persistent joint swelling, warmth or morning stiffness that lasts more than an hour or improves with movement, assessment is important. There are UK-based websites that include symptom checkers to help people understand when to seek advice. Many GP surgeries in the UK offer appointments with first contact physiotherapists, which can usually be requested directly.

Joint pain is common and often harmless. But when symptoms persist, involve visible swelling, or do not behave like typical “wear and tear”, they should not be ignored. Prompt assessment and appropriate referral give people the best chance of protecting their joints, preserving mobility and maintaining quality of life.

Sarah Golding 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. Nine years to diagnosis: the challenge of spotting inflammatory arthritis and the role of first contact physiotherapists – https://theconversation.com/nine-years-to-diagnosis-the-challenge-of-spotting-inflammatory-arthritis-and-the-role-of-first-contact-physiotherapists-276026

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Sarah Kerr, Lecturer in Archaeology and Radical Humanities, University College Cork

For many Glaswegians, the fire that has destroyed the Union Corner building next to Glasgow Central station is an unsettling reminder of fires that obliterated the city’s famous School of Art, first in 2014 and then again in 2018 while undergoing restoration.

Central Station is the busiest in Scotland with 25 million visitors a year. Even more pass by its grand gated entrance, bordered by a number of Victorian-era buildings like Union Corner. Built in the mid-19th century where Union Street and Gordon Street meet, the building’s famous dome (behind which brightly lit adverts acted as a beacon guiding people to the station beneath) and Victorian façade on Union Street have collapsed.

The fire will have obvious economic consequences for the city, particularly through the loss of businesses caught in and close to the fire. But the emotional effect of the fire will be felt by the city’s residents and visitors, particularly if the building lies in ruins indefinitely.

The value of built heritage and losing a building that is part of the fabric and history of a place extends beyond economic effects to something more emotional. This threat to different communities’ sense of place and cultural identity could be a catalyst for collective action.

A sense of belonging

Our built heritage has a considerable influence upon those who view and experience it. It can generate joy and even improve mental health. It also contributes to our sense of place; that is, our emotional attachment to a landscape such as an urban area. It derives from the character and distinctiveness of a place, which people perceive, in part, through buildings. As the fabric of the city, buildings and their environment act as a stage upon which social and cultural networks are made and reinforced.

Similarly, cultural identity is an implicit feeling emerging from the sense of belonging to a particular culture. It is multi-faceted and dynamic, drawing on the past while remaining permeable to the present. It can be considered a historical reservoir, created from representations of a shared past, amongst numerous other factors.

Continuity of cultural identity may rely on material continuity of the place. These important yet implicit aspects of daily life are affected when changes occur to the built fabric of a landscape, such as the loss of Glasgow’s historic buildings.

Glaswegians have faced this before in recent memory. Directly opposite Union Corner is the ornate C’a d’Oro building, built in 1872 to emulate the grandeur of the original building in Venice. It was destroyed by fire in 1987, rebuilt and reopened just three years later.

A strong desire persists among Glasgow’s citizens to see the Art School (known affectionately as “the Mack”) rebuilt again, but renovation is yet to start thanks to a series of ongoing wrangles. The time lag of restoration in Glasgow is further evident at the Egyptian Halls, a category A-listed building, also on Union Street. It faces an uncertain future after lying empty for 30 years.

Public outcry and support

The sense of place created through built heritage often extends beyond the local community. The National Museum of Brazil in Rio de Janeiro went on fire in 2018, destroying not only the early 19th-century building but nearly all of the artefacts and documents it housed. An immeasurable loss that led to global outcry, it was likened to the burning of the library of Alexandria in 48BC. There were immediate calls for the restoration of the building and it is due to reopen in the next year.

A few months later, in 2019, Notre Dame cathedral in Paris was severely damaged by fire. Just like the Mack in Glasgow, this occurred during restorative works. The emotional connection to the historic building resulted in international outpouring of support, as well as financial aid from donors in 150 countries, which saw €750m (£650m) raised in ten days.

The connection between built heritage and cultural identity was evident in the decision – which was not uncontroversial – to rebuild the cathedral in line with 19th-century ideas of the medieval period. This envisioning dictated the cathedral’s first major restoration in 1844 under architect Eugène Viollet-le-Duc.

Designated a UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) World Heritage Site, it was this version of the 800-year-old building with which most people were familiar and emotionally connected. It was therefore favoured over modern reimaginings or indeed interpretations focusing on other periods of the building’s long existence.

Read more:
Notre-Dame reopens in Paris 5 years after fire – its reconstruction preserves the past and illuminates France’s modern ambitions

The public demand to restore The National Museum of Brazil and Notre Dame was not driven by the economic potential of the heritage assets. Rather, a collective sense of place was profoundly affected, which transformed into action. This is seen on a smaller scale when the climate crisis causes incremental damage to built heritage.

Preservation and conservation are almost constantly called for despite growing acknowledgement that not all built heritage can be saved in the face of the climate crisis. There have been attempts to save structures before they are lost, such as the dismantling and removal of the Cruester Burnt Mound structure, a Bronze-age building on the Shetland island of Bressay, into the local heritage centre.

This collective action can extend from heritage preservation to focus on the cause of the initial problem. Greater awareness about the inevitable loss of late medieval castles in West Cork, Ireland, has instigated climate action among the local community.

This powerful yet unquantifiable sense of place and its connection to cultural identity can be a catalyst for positive action, particularly when supported by those with the power to enact and accelerate change. The full effect of the fire in Glasgow is yet to be realised, but the city’s experience of previous fires has demonstrated that collective action will likely emerge from the ashes.

Sarah Kerr 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. Glasgow fire: how treasured buildings influence our sense of belonging and connection – https://theconversation.com/glasgow-fire-how-treasured-buildings-influence-our-sense-of-belonging-and-connection-277982

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Erica Consterdine, Senior Lecturer in Public Policy, Lancaster University

The home secretary, Shabana Mahmood, says that her plans to overhaul the asylum system are rooted in “Labour values”. The proposals include removing government support for some asylum seekers and limiting initial refugee status from five years to 30 months.

In a Guardian op-ed, Mahmood wrote that these values, uniting working-class communities, social reformers and immigrants are:

First, a belief in fairness: recognising that the dice are loaded against working-class communities. Second, tolerance towards others, that very British desire to live and let live. Third, a quiet but determined patriotism, for a country that is forever changing while something ineffable always endures.

But immigration has long been a topic where Labour’s values clash with one another.

The protectionist roots of the trade union movement saw foreign labour as a threat to undercutting wages and job displacement. Historically, unions adopted a highly restrictive position on immigration. At the same time, the inclusive principles of equality and representation of the working class (of which many racial minorities were part) complicated this picture.

This tension was evident in the postwar period. Labour in office presented a mix of policies including anti-discrimination race relations reforms, along with restrictive immigration legislation such as the 1968 Commonwealth Immigrants Act, which sought to to block entry for Kenyan Asians despite their formal status as UK citizens.

Labour’s dilemma has long been how to defend the working class within a capitalist system. The solution to this intractable problem has always been to dampen class conflict by promoting national unity.

This has meant that patriotism and social reform have gone hand in hand, creating divisions between “deserving” and “non-deserving”. The question of who deserves welfare and support has long been part of border control. The very first immigration act, the 1905 Aliens Act, authorised the deportation of those in receipt of poor relief. Today, the condition of “no recourse to public funds” is placed on most visas.

The government’s newest proposals place a strong emphasis on deservingness through the language of “earning” a right to stay in the UK. They place new conditions on settlement, and require refugees to prove their need for sanctuary again and again.

New Labour

The equation changed dramatically under New Labour. Tony Blair’s government leant into Thatcherite neoliberalism, valuing labour market flexibility as a counter-inflationary measure. Coupled with belief in the benefits of globalisation, the Labour government enacted one of the most expansive economic immigration programmes, historically and comparatively across Europe.

The policy fit with the package of multicultural nationalism New Labour was selling. But this was an economic calculation, not a values-based one. The divisions of deserving and undeserving continued, with a discourse of “bogus” asylum seekers and a regressive policy to match: expanding immigration detention, replacing monetary support with vouchers and reducing appeal rights.

With Ukip beating the anti-migrant drum, the saliency of migration spiked. Many believed the government ultimately lost office partly on the basis of their immigration record.

Enter Blue Labour, a faction that claimed Labour was, at the heart, culturally conservative on many areas including immigration. Ed Miliband, then leader, pivoted towards a fairly logical policy for Labour within this paradigm. This policy framed exploitation as the driver of migrant labour demands, and proposed making it illegal for employers to undercut wages by exploiting workers. However, this approach didn’t cut through to voters, and was troubled by gaffes such as the “controls on immigration” mugs.

Fearing the electoral threat of Ukip, the Conservatives campaigned in 2010 on a pledge to reduce net migration. This pledge became the net migration policy, and a bipartisan consensus was formed to reduce immigration.

Jeremy Corbyn’s policy was, like Miliband’s, truer to Labour values. But it was not necessarily the inclusive picture in practice. Appealing to socialist state management and harking back to postwar consensus, Corbyn advanced the call to move Britain away from a liberal labour market, with less dependence on low-paid migrant labour.

Read more:
Why Jeremy Corbyn can’t seem to solve Labour’s immigration conundrum

Corbyn espoused a rhetoric of multicultural and inclusive politics. But his Euroscepticism was always fuelled by a rejection of neoliberal markets – of which EU mobility, he saw, was contributing. As he explained in 2017, Corbyn was against the “wholesale importation of underpaid workers from central Europe in order to destroy conditions in the construction industry”. Brexit politics dogged Labour and cut across this tension, and the party has struggled to form a coherent policy ever since.

In opposition, Labour’s policy looked potentially promising. Ahead of the 2024 election, Keir Starmer touted plans to look at immigration holistically with labour market policy. Yet since entering office, Labour’s policy and rhetoric has lurched further to the right.

The values of postwar Labour’s protectionism would see the door closed to many, but would enhance rights of those that can come legally and address the structural problems of the UK labour market. Blair’s neoliberal managed migration was designed to take advantage of global wage disparities, but channelled a more positive message on migration.

The new proposals do neither. Mahmood says they are rooted in fairness – but for whom? A policy that pulls the rug from beneath long-term residents and refugees trying to build a life in the UK legally and legitimately is not fair to them. When the home secretary talks of fairness, she appears to only be referring to what the party believes citizens regard as fair, claiming that without stricter migration control, they lose trust in government.

The fallacy of that position is that immigration controls can and do bleed into citizenship regimes. The recent border controls imposed on dual citizens demonstrate this starkly, as does the crackdown on illegal immigration in the US, which has seen citizens detained by Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Perhaps Britons think more regressive policies on migrants are fair, but opinions may change if citizens are affected.

Erica Consterdine 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. Home secretary says asylum overhaul is rooted in ‘Labour values’ – what are those values? – https://theconversation.com/home-secretary-says-asylum-overhaul-is-rooted-in-labour-values-what-are-those-values-277710

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Justin Stebbing, Professor of Biomedical Sciences, Anglia Ruskin University

A new kind of blood test promises to find cancer early – sometimes even before symptoms appear.

The pitch is compelling: a single sample of blood could scan the body for dozens of different cancers at once, catching disease at a stage when it is easier to treat and more likely to be curable. For people who fear cancer – which is most of us – this sounds like a medical revolution.

These tests look for tiny pieces of DNA from cancer cells that are circulating in the blood – something my research teams have spent years working on. In the lab, powerful machines analyse these DNA fragments, searching for patterns that suggest a hidden cancer somewhere in the body.

Instead of waiting for a lump, unexplained weight loss or other symptoms, you could have a blood test every six or 12 months to check if cancer is starting to grow. NHS England described the test – which they were trialling in 142,000 patients – as “the beginning of a revolution”.

The revolution postponed

But when researchers have put these tests through their paces, the reality has fallen well short of the headlines. In one large recent UK study, the blood test missed most cancers that participants went on to develop.

A negative test may feel like a clean bill of health, but at the moment, it is nothing of the sort. This matters because people naturally change their behaviour when they are reassured. If you believe a high-tech blood test has “ruled out” cancer, you may delay seeing a doctor when symptoms appear, or dismiss nagging changes in your body as nothing to worry about.

Traditional screening tests have their own problems, but they are built on decades of evidence. Mammograms for breast cancer, colonoscopy or stool tests for bowel cancer, and cervical screening all went through long, careful trials to show they save lives overall, not just that they find more abnormalities.

Even then, they can miss cancers, and they can also pick up growths that would never have caused harm. With multi-cancer blood tests, the evidence is much thinner, and we still do not know whether using them in healthy people actually reduces deaths from cancer.

The tests also generate false alarms. Sometimes the test can flag people as having cancer when they don’t, causing huge amounts of stress. Health systems that are already stretched risk being overwhelmed by follow-up investigations, triggered by blood test results, that may ultimately lead nowhere.

Cost is another consideration. These tests are not cheap to develop or buy. If these tests are used widely before we know whether they work, health services could waste money and staff time on unproven technology instead of on proven measures like prompt diagnosis, smoking cessation, weight management and ensuring that existing screening programmes reach the people who need them most.

Yet it would be wrong to dismiss these tests entirely. The underlying science is sophisticated, and it is advancing quickly. In high-risk groups – for example, people with strong family histories of certain cancers, or those with inherited genetic mutations – carefully used blood tests might genuinely help to detect tumours earlier than we can today.

They are also helpful in checking if cancer is returning after treatment, or in choosing treatments that match the specific biology of a person’s cancer.

The deeper issue is how we introduce such technology into everyday life. There is a long history of medicine being captivated by new treatments and procedures, only to discover later that the harms and compromises were greater than expected.

Early cancer blood tests are arriving at a time when trust in institutions is fragile, misinformation spreads fast, and many people understandably feel that getting to see a doctor at all is increasingly difficult. Adding another layer of complexity and uncertainty could easily widen inequality between those who can pay privately for extra tests and those who cannot.

Sensible steps you can take

While we wait for better evidence, there are still sensible steps people can take. First, if you are invited to take part in a trial of a new cancer blood test, ask what the study is trying to show and what is already known. Genuine clinical trials, run through the NHS or academic centres, are how we answer important questions about benefits and harms.

Second, if you are offered one of these tests privately, ask who will interpret the result, what support you will get afterwards, and whether it is likely to change your care in a meaningful way.

Most importantly, do not let the idea of a “simple blood test” overshadow the basics. If you notice a new lump, unexplained bleeding, persistent cough, weight loss or a change in bowel habit that goes on for more than a few weeks, you should still contact your GP, even if a previous test was normal.

Trust your instincts about your own body and keep pushing if you feel something is wrong. Stories of delayed diagnoses repeatedly show that persistence from patients, families and doctors can make a crucial difference.

Cancer outcomes have been improving slowly over time, thanks to a combination of better treatments, earlier diagnosis and public health measures. New technology, including blood tests that scan for traces of cancer, will probably play a part in the next chapter of that story. But on their own, they are not a magic bullet against disease.

Justin Stebbing 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. Blood tests for cancer? We’re still a way off – https://theconversation.com/blood-tests-for-cancer-were-still-a-way-off-277798

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Wenge Xu, Senior Lecturer in Human-Computer Interaction, School of Computing, Birmingham City University

Self-driving cars are very much a reality and no longer a vision from science fiction. In the UK, automated vehicles (AVs) such as self-driving shuttles are already being tested on public roads.

Self-driving taxi services are expected to launch in 2026, and the Automated Vehicles Act is scheduled for implementation in 2027. This act establishes the legal groundwork for driverless cars to operate on Britain’s roads.

As these vehicles move from research labs to our streets, one question becomes critical: how will they communicate safely with the people around them? Researchers and designers have proposed installing equipment on the vehicles called external human–machine interfaces. These are designed to help driverless vehicles signal their behaviour to pedestrians and other road users (cyclists, wheelchair users and human drivers).

The driverless vehicles would employ pulsing lights around the vehicle, text displays showing the car’s intentions, and auditory cues that announce forthcoming actions, such as “I’m stopping” or a truck-like reversing sound.

However, much of this research still overlooks people with disabilities, including pedestrians with hearing loss. When accessibility isn’t built in from the start, the resulting designs often fail. So how can this be improved?

There are many examples of where current driverless vehicles fall short. Text-only displays may appear universal, but they can be less accessible for people whose primary language is sign language. They are also inacessible to blind people. Auditory cues, such as hums or droning sounds, could help the blind, but are difficult or impossible to detect for many people with hearing loss – even those with hearing aids.

Speech-based cues, meant to help people with low vision, can unintentionally introduce new risks. Hearing loss can distort speech, so a message like “I’m stopped” may be heard only as “stop” – completely altering its meaning.

One size fits all

Driverless vehicles are not inherently unsafe for deaf and hard of hearing people – the challenge lies in a design process that assumes a universal, one-size-fits-all approach. Historically, communication interfaces in regular vehicles have been built with an assumed “typical” hearing pedestrian in mind.

When accessibility becomes an afterthought, communication becomes unreliable, and the systems meant to increase safety may end up excluding the people who need them most. Technology alone cannot solve this problem.

Only thoughtful, inclusive design can. Our research shows that combining visual (pulsing lights and a text display) and audio (speech) cues can significantly increase trust and support safer decisions for pedestrians in general. But much more development is needed to ensure these communication interfaces are equitable for all people with special needs.

This gap between technological promise and lived experience reflects a broader pattern. Even though the Automated Vehicles Act aims to improve accessibility, most research in this area in this area still neglects people with special needs, including those with hearing loss.

If we want driverless vehicles to create more accessible streets – and not merely introduce new barriers – then people with special needs must be included in research, design and policy from the beginning.

Drawing on a series of user studies, we offer several practical recommendations to guide industry, researchers and policymakers toward a safer, more inclusive driverless car ecosystem.

Manufacturers should include diverse populations in the design and evaluation of their vehicles. We found that pedestrians with hearing loss may experience external human–machine interfaces differently from hearing people. Designers cannot fully anticipate the potential risks unless they inclusively involve user testing groups.

People need to understand not just that a vehicle exists, but what it intends to do. Displaying the vehicle’s “state”, such as “stopped”, and transitions, such as “slowing down”, helps pedestrians accurately judge the situation and feel more assured.

Combining audio and visual cues increases trust, acceptance and perceived safety. No single mode of communication is effective for everyone, but together, they offer back-ups and clarity.

Relying on just one type of visual cue is risky – lights, text or icons can fail in certain conditions. Providing combined visual information helps ensure that if one fails, another still supports pedestrian understanding.

Urban soundscapes can interfere with with audio cues, especially for pedestrians with hearing loss. Studying external human–machine interfaces in realistic environments is essential for ensuring they work when it matters.

Vehicle manufacturers must work with hearing aid and cochlear implant manufacturers to help ensure that audio cues are distinguishable, rather than confusing.

In many cases, barriers to inclusion arise not from technology itself, but from a lack of awareness or consultation. When people with special needs are excluded from design decisions, systems are built on assumptions rather than lived experience.

When they are actively involved, however, we are a step towards an inclusive and equitable future. Driverless vehicles have the potential to make our roads safer for everyone. But that future depends on purposeful, inclusive design choices today.

If developers, policymakers and researchers commit to engaging with deaf and hard of hearing people, along with others, we can help create streets that are safer, more accessible and more equitable for all.

Wenge Xu 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. How driverless vehicles can be made safer for deaf and hard of hearing people – https://theconversation.com/how-driverless-vehicles-can-be-made-safer-for-deaf-and-hard-of-hearing-people-277648

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Sahar Maranlou, Lecturer in Law and Socio-legal Studies, Royal Holloway, University of London

Women Without Men by Shahrnush Parsipur is an innovative feminist story set in Iran. The story follows five women and the circumstances that make them leave their lives to start anew in a garden on the outskirts of Tehran.

Written in the late 1970s, it was immediately banned on publication. Shortly after, Parsipur was arrested and jailed for her frank and defiant portrayal of women’s sexuality. This groundbreaking book is now available for the first time in English, translated by Faridoun Farrokh.

Set against the backdrop of the 1953 CIA-backed coup in Iran, the story deliberately shifts the lens of history away from the big politics to focus on its impact on intimate, gendered spaces. In doing so, Parsipur frames national upheaval as something lived and inscribed upon women’s bodies and interior lives.

The novel insists that authoritarianism doesn’t begin in the halls of power; it begins in the household within layered patriarchal systems that confine women’s autonomy. Parsipur’s blending of realism and magical elements unsettles conventional narrative authority and mirrors the instability of a society in crisis. The personal and the political are inseparable: women’s silences, desires and acts of refusal become subtle yet radical forms of resistance.

What makes this novel enduring is its refusal to separate the personal from the political. The magical elements are not decorative; they expose emotion that realism alone cannot capture. The garden the women flee to is not an escape from reality, but a feminist space where reality is reimagined.

The novel has sadly taken on an urgency and relevance in the face of the the US and Israel’s war on Iran. It reminds readers that foreign intervention often intensifies internal authoritarianism. By revisiting the legacy of the 1953 coup, the book encourages readers to see today’s crisis not as an isolated eruption. Instead, it is part of a deeper historical continuum, shaped by external intervention and power structures within Iranian society.

Through intimate storytelling, Parsipur invites readers to confront the cultural assumptions that have shaped women’s lives for generations. To read Women Without Men is to enter a layered narrative that is at once poetic, historical and contemporary. It bears to witness how deeply gender norms are embedded in everyday life, and how quietly, yet powerfully, women resist them.

Sexuality

In Women Without Men, virginity is an ideological construct by which a woman’s worth is regulated. Through the characters of Faezeh and Munis, we see how chastity functions as a mechanism of control long before any formal punishment is imposed.

Faezeh embodies internalised patriarchy, believing a woman’s honour depends entirely on social perception and reputation to survive. When she and Munis are sexually assaulted, the violence is overshadowed by shame.

The metaphor “watering the earth”, used by a man to describe sexual penetration, is chilling because it recasts violation as something natural and productive. It depicts a woman as if she were soil to be cultivated, rather than a person with agency.

By framing assault in agricultural terms, patriarchal language erases harm and presents male entitlement as biological inevitability, while placing the burden of “dishonour” on the woman’s body. This symbolic logic mirrors the broader Iranian legal and social framework in which virginity carries material and moral weight, reinforcing the idea that women’s bodies are sites of regulation rather than autonomy.

The Iranian Civil Code of 1931 codified male guardianship and authority in marriage and family matters. In this context, virginity becomes not only a cultural expectation but part of a larger system in which women’s bodies are governed by both family and state.

Zarrinkolah’s narrative offers one of the most unsettling critiques of patriarchal objectification in Women Without Men. Zarrinkolah is a prostitute who begins to see all of her clients as headless men. It is an attempt to “cure” this condition through an act of purification that leads her to abandon prostitution.

Zarrinkolah’s journey isn’t a simple redemption, but a reconfiguration of subjectivity. By shifting from being seen as nothing more than a body to recognising herself as a person with her own thoughts, emotions and agency, she disrupts the cultural logic that renders women’s bodies interchangeable and morally policed. Her withdrawal from prostitution is not a return to purity, but a refusal of the system that defined her solely through male consumption.

The stillness of marriage

Farrokhlaqa’s story reveals the psychological and social confinement of marriage. Her marriage was a “32-year-old habit of not moving”. Patriarchal expectations have infected her, and she has become self-policing. She does not need to be actively restrained; she restrains herself. However, she no longer experiences her lack of freedom as oppression but as natural and inevitable.

Her response to widowhood is not retreat but a shift from passivity to agency. She purchases the garden, transforming inherited wealth into spatial autonomy, creating space for “women without men”. Her liberation is, therefore, negotiated by unlearning the stillness marriage imposed. Through her, Parsipur suggests that domestic patriarchy is sustained not only by law but by cultural perceptions that normalise women’s obedience to husbands.

The garden functions as a feminist counter-public sphere outside patriarchal governance. Within its walls, women work, speak and rest without male supervision. Iranian women’s groups have created similar spaces of solidarity, which were fragile yet transformative. They demonstrated that collective awareness could exist even within repressive conditions before and after the Islamic Revolution.

Parsipur does not allow the garden to become utopia, however. The women do not remain there, most return to Tehran and reenter life. Liberation cannot survive in isolation from society, Parsipur tells us. This narrative choice mirrors Iranian women’s rights history: reforms have emerged through resistance, reversal, and renewed struggle – not through escape.

Women Without Men is not simply a novel about five women seeking refuge in a garden. It is about freedom, embodiment and the struggle for equal dignity. Shahrnush Parsipur gives us women who question, transform, challenge and resist.

This article features references to books that have been included for editorial reasons, and may contain links to bookshop.org. If you click on one of the links and go on to buy something from bookshop.org The Conversation UK may earn a commission.

Sahar Maranlou 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. Women Without Men: a novella that tells the history of Iran through women’s bodies – https://theconversation.com/women-without-men-a-novella-that-tells-the-history-of-iran-through-womens-bodies-276250

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Simon Mabon, Professor of International Relations, Lancaster University

A report in the Washington Post the day after the Iran war began suggested that Saudi Arabia and Israel had both lobbied Donald Trump to attack Iran. The Saudis swiftly denied that they had pushed for war.

In the days since, as Iran lashed out in retaliation, Saudi Arabia came under attack. An Iranian drone hit the US embassy in the Saudi capital, Riyadh, and an oil processing plant at Ras Tanura was targeted. Two people were killed on March 8 after a projectile fell on a residential area in Al-Kharj city, near an airbase used by the US military.

My academic and civil society contacts in Saudi Arabia expressed deep scepticism of the idea that Saudi Arabia had pushed the US to bomb Iran. The attacks go against everything that the Saudis have been doing for the past few years, when long-simmering tensions between Iran and Saudi Arabia had begun to thaw.

Heated history

Iran and Saudi Arabia have a long and complex history. Saudi Arabia is an overwhelmingly Arab, Sunni state, while Iran is a mainly Persian, Shia state.

Tensions between the two rivals came to a head in 1979 with the Iranian revolution. Iran’s new leader, Ayatolloh Ruhollah Khomeini, began to criticise the Saudis, saying they were unfit to be the custodians of the two holy places of Islam, Mecca and Medina. That antagonised the Saudis, who tried to diminish the credibility of the new Islamic Republic

Iran then began to provide support to groups across the region who wished to change the status quo, such as Hezbollah in Lebanon. For the Saudis, this attempt to undermine regional order fuelled the antagonism.

In the early 1990s, after the death of Khomeini, more political space opened up and tensions between Saudi Arabia and Iran eased. But after 9/11 and the US-led invasion of Iraq in 2003, relations deteriorated. Iraq descended into a civil war, with Iran and Saudi Arabia supporting different groups in the conflict.

By 2010, diplomatic cables leaked to WikiLeaks revealed Saudi King Abdullah had repeatedly pushed the US to strike Iran’s nuclear capabilities, urging the Americans to “cut off the head of the snake”. In 2016, the two countries cut off diplomatic relations after an attack on the Saudi embassy in Iran following the execution of a Saudi Shia cleric.

An era of rapprochement

Ever since a deal struck in 1945 between US President Franklin D Roosevelt and the Saudi King Abdul Aziz Al Saud on an aircraft carrier, Saudi Arabia has relied on the US for its security.

But after an attack using Iranian-made drones and cruise missiles in September 2019 against oil processing facilities at Abqaiq and Khurais in eastern Saudi Arabia, the Saudis became worried that they couldn’t rely purely on the Americans. The Houthi rebel group claimed responsibility for the attacks, but subsequent investigations by the UN said they were not involved.

Iran denied allegations it was behind the attacks. The US did deploy air and missile defence forces to Saudi Arabia in the wake of the attacks, but the muted response still led to a dramatic change in Saudi Arabia’s approach to regional politics.

At the same time, Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman (MBS) realised that if Saudi Arabia wanted to enact its domestic reforms, in particular the ambitious Vision 2030 transformation, the country needed investor confidence and – crucially – regional stability. That meant a move away from comments, such as those by MBS in 2018, likening Iran’s supreme leader to Hitler.

A softening of Saudi rhetoric on Iran began, and back channel dialogue opened up. Then, in April 2021, the foreign ministers of Saudi Arabia and Iran sat down in the Iraqi capital Baghdad for talks, followed two years later by a Chinese-brokered normalisation deal signed in Beijing.

The two countries reopened embassies and started diplomatic initiatives, expressing joint statements in support for each other and carrying out joint military drills. All of this pointed to a thawing in relations – until the new Iran conflict began.

Iran conflict

With the arrival of a US armada in the Gulf in recent months, the Saudis and their Gulf neighbours would have expected another attack on Iran was imminent. But they don’t want a destabilised Iran.

Iraq in 2003 after the fall of Saddam Hossein experienced a terrible, violent period of instability that did not improve the region’s political, social or economic conditions, or encourage investment – all things the Gulf’s leaders hanker after. The US killing of Iran’s supreme leader Ali Khameini in the hope that it would facilitate some type of peaceful transformation will seem like a huge gamble to Gulf leaders at a delicate time in their political trajectories.

If the perception in Iran is that Saudi Arabia has been pushing for war, it could start to pull the US and Saudi Arabia closer together. There is some anger from the Saudis too, however, that the Americans have not done more to protect them. A Saudi analyst told Al Jazeera that America had abandoned it. While Gulf states have very advanced hardware, they have small militaries, and will be now worried about their own security, and about being drawn into a long regional war.

With the future of Iran still deeply uncertain, and very real potential for prolonged instability on their doorstep, Gulf states will be carefully weighing their next move. Whatever happens, Iran’s decision to bomb its neighbours will make it very difficult to rebuild the sort of the trust that had been cultivated over recent years.

This article is based on an interview Simon Mabon gave to The Conversation Weekly podcast, published on March 5.

Simon Mabon receives funding from Carnegie Corporation of New York and the Henry Luce Foundation. He is a Senior Research Fellow with The Foreign Policy Centre

– ref. Why it’s unlikely that Saudi Arabia wanted the US to bomb Iran – https://theconversation.com/why-its-unlikely-that-saudi-arabia-wanted-the-us-to-bomb-iran-277687