Signs that Trump’s economic policies are alienating his rural Maga base

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Inderjeet Parmar, Professor in International Politics, City St George’s, University of London

As Donald Trump’s second term unfolds, the contradictions at the heart of his “America First” agenda are increasingly apparent. What began as a populist revolt against elite globalism appears to have morphed into policies that alienate the very rural and small-town constituencies that backed him in 2016, 2020 and 2024.

These rust-belt and rural counties were drawn to his promises of economic revival, border security and non-interventionism. Yet, emerging signs of fracture in this Maga base suggest a potential backlash in the upcoming midterms.

The administration’s domestic policies, coupled with aggressive foreign postures, are accelerating disillusionment among Trump’s core supporters.

Domestically, Trump’s intensified immigration enforcement has backfired. Ramped-up ICE raids were sold as fulfilling pledges of mass deportations targeting “criminals”. But these operations have swept up undocumented workers essential to rural economies. Small family farms and businesses in states including California, Idaho and Pennsylvania are reliant on immigrant labour for harvesting crops, dairy operations, and meatpacking. They now face acute shortages.

Agricultural employment dropped by 155,000 workers between March and July 2025, reversing prior growth trends. Farmers in Ventura County, California, for example, denounced raids that targeted routes frequented by agricultural workers. Fields lie unharvested signalling financial ruin for some operations. Family-run farms struggle to find replacements. Low wages and gruelling conditions simply fail to attract American-born labourers.

This labour crisis exacerbates a broader sense of betrayal. Rural voters supported Trump for his anti-elite rhetoric, expecting protection for their livelihoods. Instead, the administration’s actions have hollowed out local workforces without viable alternatives.

The H-2A visa programme, meant to provide temporary foreign workers, has been streamlined – but remains insufficient amid ongoing raids, which deter even legal migrants. These disruptions ripple through small-town economies, where agriculture underpins community stability. Democrats, sensing opportunity, are investing in rural outreach, emphasising economic populism to woo disillusioned voters who feel abandoned by Trump’s enforcement zeal.

Compounding these woes are the ongoing tariff disruptions. Trump touts his tariffs as tools to “make America great”, but in fact they have driven up costs for the same rural groups. Between January and September 2025, tariffs on imports from China, Canada, Mexico, and others have surged, collecting US$125 billion. However, the figure may be even higher according to experts.

But while the administration claims these taxes punish foreign adversaries, the burden falls squarely on American importers and consumers. Small businesses, which account for around 30% of imports, faced an average of US$151,000 in extra costs from April to September 2025, translating to $25,000 monthly hikes. Farmers, already squeezed by low grain prices, pay more for necessities, such as fertilisers (hit by 44% effective tariffs on Indian imports) and machinery parts.

Midwest producers of soybeans, corn, and pork – key US exports – suffer doubly from retaliatory tariffs abroad, which reduce demand and depress revenues. In Tennessee and Pennsylvania, builders report 2.5% rises in material costs, while food prices climb due to duties on beef, tomatoes and coffee.

Trump, meanwhile, is perceived as profiting personally. His properties and branding deals benefit from economic nationalism, even as family farms teeter on the verge of bankruptcy. This disparity fuels resentment. Polls show Trump’s approval slipping in swing counties, with economic anxiety eroding the loyalty that once overlooked his character flaws.

Foreign policy compounds domestic fractures

These domestic fractures are mirrored in foreign policy, where Trump’s interventionism starkly contradicts his campaign pledge of “America First” restraint. Having promised no new wars, he has instead pursued aggressive postures that many Republicans view as unnecessary. The most emblematic is his renewed bid to acquire Greenland, apparently by negotiation or force, which has swiftly followed the US raid on Venezuela in the first week of January, accompanied by threats against other Latin American countries including Cuba and Colombia.

The US president has justified demands for control over the Arctic island – citing threats from Russia and China – as a strategic necessity. But but Nato allies such as Denmark – of which Greenland is a constituent part – have rebuked it as an potentially alliance-shattering move. Congressional Republicans, including Mitch McConnell and Thom Tillis, have broken ranks, warning that force would obliterate Nato and tarnish US influence.

Such dissent highlights broader paradoxes. Trump’s populist realism prioritises tough rhetoric for domestic consumption but yields aggressive, even reckless actions abroad. His administration is effectively dismantling post-1945 institutions while embracing 19th-century spheres-of-influence and outright colonialist thinking, including invoking an updated version of the 1823 Monroe doctrine.




Read more:
The ‘Donroe doctrine’: Maduro is the guinea pig for Donald Trump’s new world order


Rural voters, weary of endless wars, supported his non-interventionist promises. Now they see echoes of past entanglements in Trump’s suggestion that the US could intervene in Iran. This cognitive dissonance is accelerating disillusionment with his presidency.

These self-inflicted but inherent contradictions are hastening a pivotal reckoning for Trumpism. In many counties that have thrice backed him – and especially in swing counties – economic hardship and policy betrayals erode the cultural ties binding rural America to the Republican party. Democrats, through programmes such as the Rural Urban Bridge Initiative, are betting on this “betrayal” narrative, spotlighting farmers’ plights to flip seats in November 2026.

Polls show Latinos and independents souring on Trump, with the US president’s base turnout potentially waning as the midterm elections approach in November. If Republicans suffer larger-than-expected losses in those elections, it could mark the decline of Trumpism’s grip by exposing its elite-serving underbelly beneath populist veneer.

Yet, without a compelling alternative vision, Democrats risk squandering this opening. For now, the fractures signal that Trump’s “America First” policies may ultimately leave its rural and rust belt champions behind. Whether Trumpism proves resilient or begins a long decline may well be decided not in Washington and Mar-a-Lago, but in the county seats and small towns that once formed its unbreakable base.

The Conversation

Inderjeet Parmar 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. Signs that Trump’s economic policies are alienating his rural Maga base – https://theconversation.com/signs-that-trumps-economic-policies-are-alienating-his-rural-maga-base-273876

Donald Trump’s Board of Peace signed at Davos – key points I took away from my visit to the ski resort

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Francesco Grillo, Academic Fellow, Department of Social and Political Sciences, Bocconi University

Donald Trump’s newly launched “Board of Peace” presents itself as a bold attempt to break with what its founders describe as decades of failed international diplomacy. Its charter opens with a declaration that few would openly dispute: “Durable peace requires pragmatic judgment, common-sense solutions, and the courage to depart from approaches and institutions that have too often failed.”

It is true that the world urgently needs to overcome decades of inertia to reform its international organisations. It is true that new institutions are needed to solve global problems rather than merely managing never-ending crises.

This is perhaps why Donald Trump decided to hold the signing ceremony for his new board on the margins of the World Economic Forum in Davos. Here, more than any other place, is where results-oriented global business leaders supposedly gather. At the signing of the charter, a jubilant Trump was among 20 heads of state and prime ministers (of the 60 who had been invited).

The “most prestigious board ever formed” so far includes the presidents of Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan and the prime ministers of Mongolia, Armenia and Pakistan. Rightly, representatives of the governments more directly involved in the “Gaza peace plan” are also present, including Israel, Qatar, UAE, Saudi Arabia, Jordan and Egypt.

From south-east Asia we have Indonesia and Vietnam and from South America, President Javier Milei from Argentina. Hungary, Bulgaria and Kosovo are the only European countries to join so far.

The board’s charter goes on to set out a “partnership” that would be even less accountable than the old United Nations security council and even less democratic than any publicly listed company whose CEO is attending Davos.

It has potential as an instrument for building peace in Gaza, but risks failure if its scope becomes too diluted. And Davos itself risks losing credibility as a place where people “make sense of global challenges and move the world forward together”, if the search for a new world order becomes the celebration of one single man.

I have been to Davos several times. It’s certainly not one of the most prestigious ski resorts of the Swiss Alps. And this year, more than ever, I have felt increasingly sceptical about its capacity as a forum for generating the ideas that the world desperately needs to make sense of those global challenges.

Out of about 3,000 delegates, less than one out of ten seems to be under 30, to my eye. The gender balance is not good either. There are lots of Americans and most pay expensive attendance fees. It’s a world in which power lines are not clearly drawn unless you are in the know.

The Board of Peace is far more transparent when it comes to asserting where the power lies. Trump is expressly nominated by the charter as the chairman for life. He is the only one who can invite states to become members – and revoke their membership. He alone nominates his successor. He holds a veto over any decision.

At the security council, this is a power held by the five nations that won the second world war. Trump may continue to serve even if he is no longer president of the US. Nobody may, of course, seek to dismiss the chairman, although the charter graciously acknowledges that a removal may happen in case of “incapacity” of the supreme leader, if the other members of the board agree unanimously.

This is more power than most modern dictators can claim. Putin has to win elections, and Xi Jinping is nominated by a party. It is more power than even Roman emperors, who were formally designated by the senate (and in reality chosen by the army). Trump has proposed a document that hands him powers of which Augustus himself could not even dream.

What is striking is that most EU member states are “considering” the invitation to join. Some are even said to be trying to work out how they would navigate conflicts such a move would present with their own national constitutions or with the EU treaties (it should be obvious to any student of law that there is no such possibility for a self-declared liberal democracy).

It would be catastrophic if they did. They would be agreeing that an international organisation based on the unaccountable leadership of one single individual could be a starting point for constructing a new world order.

Trump’s advisers are right when they write in the charter that “too often the approaches to most of the global problems foster perpetual dependency, and institutionalise crisis rather than leading people beyond it”. We need to make sure that international organisations are rewarded according to their ability to solve problems and not just manage them endlessly. Yet this requires more accountability and participation – not less. We need proposals that are creative but serious.

I am sure that many have doubts about the World Economic Forum becoming the stage for the never-ending show of the producer of The Apprentice.

The Conversation

Francesco Grillo is affiliated with Vision, the think tank

ref. Donald Trump’s Board of Peace signed at Davos – key points I took away from my visit to the ski resort – https://theconversation.com/donald-trumps-board-of-peace-signed-at-davos-key-points-i-took-away-from-my-visit-to-the-ski-resort-274140

Questions are being raised about microplastics studies – here’s what’s solid science and what isn’t

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Michael Richardson, Professor of Animal Development, Leiden University

Over the past few years, studies have suggested that plastic particles from bottles, food packaging and waste have been detected in human blood, lungs, placentas, arteries and even the brain. But a recent investigation by the Guardian suggests that some of these claims may be less robust than they first appeared.

The idea that tiny fragments of plastic might be accumulating in human bodies is unsettling. This concern stems largely from evidence that nanoplastics – the very smallest plastic fragments – can harm animal embryos and human cells grown in the laboratory. Slightly larger particles, called microplastics, are not known to be as harmful to living things when ingested. At least, we are not aware of any studies to this effect.

The Guardian report found that some scientists think that these reports of plastics in the human body may be false alarms. They are not suggesting any scientific misconduct. Rather, they suggest that the tissue samples were unintentionally contaminated in the laboratory or, in another example, that natural body fat in the samples produced readings that looked like plastic.

For instance, in February 2025, the journal Nature Medicine published a paper in which the authors suggested “a trend of increasing MNP [microplastics and nanoplastics] concentrations in the brain and liver”. But in November 2025, the same journal published a letter from another group of scientists criticising the methods used in that original paper.

Controversies such as this raise an awkward question: are small plastic particles really present throughout the human body, or is the science still too uncertain to support such claims?

Plastic pollution in our environment is not in dispute. Small plastic particles are everywhere, and so exposure is inevitable. However, detecting these particles, especially nanoparticles, in human tissue is no easy task and typically requires advanced analytical tools.

Most studies follow a similar path. A biological sample, such as blood or tissue, is collected as a biopsy during surgery or at a postmortem. The sample is then analysed using sensitive instruments designed to identify plastics based on their chemical fingerprints.

Contamination is a major challenge. Plastic fibres and fragments are everywhere: in laboratory air, operating theatres, clothing and equipment. Most problematically, plastic particles are probably in disposable labware, such as syringes, pipettes and centrifuge tubes – the very equipment used to process the tissue samples.

Even tiny amounts of plastic contaminants can overwhelm a signal when researchers are looking for extremely small particles in equally small numbers.

Standard practice in analytics is to run blank samples alongside real ones, or use tissue samples that are less likely to contain plastics (such as chicken embryos sealed inside the egg) to show how much background contamination is in the laboratory. Critics argue that some studies did not always compare the human samples with such “controls”.

We have to remember that the studies criticised by some scientists in the Guardian article were sincere attempts to answer an urgent question in a rapidly growing field. Regardless of the particular debate over each study criticised, the issues raised highlight that the entire field of detecting microplastics inside the human body is still very new, and many teams are working hard to find the best analytical techniques.

Disagreement and correction are part of how science works, and controversies are to be expected — especially when a topic attracts such intense public attention.

Scientists may be studying the wrong type of plastic particle

As noted earlier, small plastic particles fall into two broad categories: microplastics (typically the size of pollen grains) and the much smaller nanoplastics (the size of some viruses). Microplastics are fairly easy to detect, but nanoplastics are so small that only the most advanced techniques can identify them.

Most studies reporting plastic particles in the human body have focused on microplastics because they are easier to detect. Yet nanoplastics may be far more relevant to human health. Nanoplastics can cross biological barriers, are toxic to human cells grown in petri dishes and, in studies we have conducted, have been shown to harm developing embryos in animal studies.

Nanoplastics can also be taken up by cells, causing cellular damage or cell death. By contrast, microplastics are mostly too large to be taken up into cells.

Small bits of plastic viewed under a magnifying glass.
Microplastics are too large to be absorbed by human cells.
SIVStockStudio/Shutterstock.com

This does not mean that microplastics are harmless, however. It is at least possible that they are recognised as foreign by the immune system and cause inflammation, although more research is needed to explore this possibility. Microplastics can also act like tiny sponges, soaking up toxic chemicals, such as persistent organic pollutants, from the environment and potentially carrying them into the body.

Controversies about the true risks posed by small plastic particles may create the false impression that the entire field is in question – which it is not. That is why researchers who work on measurement methods have been especially vocal about the need for higher standards. The good news is that those standards are improving quickly.

Laboratories are becoming more aware of contamination risks. Multiple analytical techniques are increasingly being used on the same samples to cross-check results. Hopefully, researchers will be able to develop standard operating procedures for analysing microplastics in human tissues and other biological samples.

If you have read alarming headlines about small plastic particles, the current state of knowledge calls for caution rather than panic. There is no clear evidence yet that large amounts of plastic are building up in human organs, or that reported increases over time reflect real biological trends rather than methodological errors.

At the same time, it may be sensible to reduce everyday exposure to plastic particles where practical. We can try to avoid food and drink that has come into contact with plastic packaging or containers, improve indoor ventilation, and use simple water filtration, such as charcoal filters, to reduce exposure.

The intense debate about these studies may feel unsettling, but it reflects an emerging scientific field finding its footing. As methods improve and human tissues are tested more rigorously, the picture will become clearer. What matters most is that claims about plastics in the human body are backed by robust evidence.

The Conversation

Michael Richardson receives funding from Nederlands Wetenschappelijk Organisatie (Duch Government Funding Agency).

Le Yang receives funding from China Scholarship Council and Nederlands Wetenschappelijke Organisatie (Dutch Government Funding Agency) .

ref. Questions are being raised about microplastics studies – here’s what’s solid science and what isn’t – https://theconversation.com/questions-are-being-raised-about-microplastics-studies-heres-whats-solid-science-and-what-isnt-273511

Mark Carney à Davos : virage à 180 degrés dans les relations avec les États-Unis

Source: The Conversation – in French – By Stewart Prest, Lecturer, Political Science, University of British Columbia

Ce fut un moment de clarté totale. Le discours du premier ministre Mark Carney devant l’élite politique et économique mondiale réunie à Davos cette semaine décrit les réalités du monde présent et passé avec une franchise et une nuance rarement entendues de la part d’un chef d’État en exercice.

Son message était double.

Tout d’abord, tous les états doivent accepter une nouvelle réalité, à savoir que le monde a changé. Les anciennes façons de faire en politique internationale ne reviendront plus. Il serait vain d’espérer le retour de la raison. Le monde où nous vivons est régi par la menace et l’usage de la force brute.

Le second message vient toutefois tempérer le premier. Même si les grandes puissances mondiales peuvent agir de manière unilatérale, les autres — notamment les « puissances moyennes » comme le Canada — ne sont pas sans moyens.

Ces États, en coopérant dans des domaines d’intérêt commun, peuvent mutualiser leurs ressources limitées pour construire ce qui équivaut à un réseau flexible de liens coopératifs. Ensemble, ils pourraient représenter une alternative aux puissances qui, comme les États-Unis, leur offrent seulement des miettes en échange de leur capitulation.

S’ils veulent préserver leur indépendance, ces pays n’ont guère le choix. Comme l’a si bien dit Mark Carney : « Si vous n’êtes pas à la table, vous êtes au menu. »

Entre fermeté et à-plat-ventrisme

Ce discours marque un changement d’approche radical du Canada dans ses relations avec son voisin.

Malgré sa fermeté affichée durant la campagne électorale de 2025, Mark Carney a d’abord gouverné en ménageant la chèvre et le chou. Dans l’espoir de renouveler des relations commerciales et normaliser la relation avec les États-Unis, il a tenté de négocier de bonne foi, en multipliant les gestes conciliants sur des questions qui semblaient compter pour le président américain Donald Trump.

Ainsi, le Canada a engagé des ressources importantes pour augmenter les budgets militaires et également pour lutter contre un problème de trafic de fentanyl largement inexistant. Cette conciliation a même frôlé l’à-plat-ventrisme, avec le retrait unilatéral des contre-tarifs douaniers sur les produits américains, qui n’a produit aucun effet perceptible.

Avec franchise, le premier ministre a admis que cette stratégie n’a pas fonctionné.

Même s’il n’a jamais nommé les États-Unis ni Trump, aucun doute ne subsiste sur la source des changements mondiaux spectaculaires que décrit Mark Carney. Le vernis s’est même légèrement écaillé lorsqu’il a réitéré le soutien canadien à la souveraineté du Groenland en tant que territoire du Danemark.

En fait, le discours était remarquablement direct dans sa critique de la politique étrangère américaine du second mandat de Donald Trump — laquelle aggrave la situation de presque tout le monde, y compris des Américains eux-mêmes, ce que d’autres avant lui ont déjà affirmé.

La réponse de Trump

Cette pique peu subtile n’a pas échappé à l’auditoire à Davos ni à ceux qui écoutaient de l’autre côté de l’Atlantique.

Donald Trump n’a pas tardé à riposter dans son style habituel — décousu et parfois confus, comme son discours prononcé le lendemain sur la même tribune.

Il a réitéré son intention d’annexer le Groenland, tout en confondant à plusieurs reprises l’île avec l’Islande voisine, également souveraine.

Il a également pris soin d’interpeler le premier ministre canadien : « Le Canada existe grâce aux États-Unis. Ne l’oublie pas, Mark, dans tes prochaines déclarations. »

Cette menace flagrante envers un voisin et allié n’a fait qu’ajouter une preuve additionnelle à l’argumentaire de Mark Carney. Ses commentaires révèlent l’espèce de « gangstérisme » souvent observé de la part de Trump, dans le ton d’une autre remarque passée : « Beau pays, Mark. Ce serait dommage qu’il lui arrive quelque chose. »

Critique du passé

Si le premier ministre canadien a été incisif quant à l’effritement d’un ordre international libéral fondé sur des règles, sa critique du passé a été, à certains égards, encore plus remarquable. Sur ce point, il s’est exprimé avec une franchise rarement entendue à Davos.

Il y décrivait, en termes clairs, un ordre régi tout autant par son hypocrisie que par ses règles. Le Canada, a-t-il reconnu, se range parmi les pays qui ont profité d’un système aux règles inégalement appliquées et fortement sous influence des superpuissances.

C’est précisément cette notion, ainsi que l’idée que les États doivent se projeter vers l’avenir pour survivre, qui sous-tendait son exhortation à ne pas pleurer la disparition de l’ancien ordre.

Le premier ministre canadien, face aux menaces diverses et imprévisibles, aspire à voir émerger un nouveau système plus résilient, plus honnête et plus juste.

Les puissances moyennes, en élaborant un terrain d’entente sur des questions communes, pourront ainsi agir conformément à leurs valeurs et intérêts, au lieu de toujours plier devant des superpuissances qui, de toute façon, bafouent trop souvent leurs propres valeurs sans vergogne. La puissance comptera toujours, mais elle ne doit pas être la seule chose qui compte.

Une nouvelle page d’histoire ?

À tous égards, les propos du premier ministre canadien à Davos étaient éblouissants. Mais saura-t-il joindre le geste à la parole ?

Une ovation enthousiaste a accueilli ce discours. À juste titre, il a également reçu les éloges du monde entier pour sa description lucide d’un ordre mondial plus dur et sa vision de la manière dont des États comme le Canada pourront continuer à prospérer dans ce contexte.

Mais quant à savoir si ce discours passera réellement dans les annales, tout dépendra de la suite. Si le Canada souhaite sérieusement tracer une nouvelle voie distincte de celle des grandes puissances, il faudra autre chose que de beaux discours.

Il devra démontrer le sérieux de ses intentions par divers gestes, tels que le déploiement éventuel d’une force symbolique au Groenland. Le Canada n’obtiendra pas le soutien des autres s’il ne les soutient pas lui-même.

De même, le Canada doit rejeter les projets tels que le « Conseil de la paix » de Trump — une tentative à peine voilée de remplacer les institutions de gouvernance mondiale par un organisme composé de membres choisis par lui et fait pour répondre à ses caprices.

Mais maintenant que Mark Carney a capté l’attention du monde entier, la suite dépendra de ce qu’il en fera.

La Conversation Canada

Stewart Prest 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. Mark Carney à Davos : virage à 180 degrés dans les relations avec les États-Unis – https://theconversation.com/mark-carney-a-davos-virage-a-180-degres-dans-les-relations-avec-les-etats-unis-274155

Blaming ‘wine moms’ for ICE protest violence is another baseless, misogynist myth

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Darryn DiFrancesco, Assistant Professor, School of Nursing, Faculty of Human and Health Sciences, University of Northern British Columbia

Following the recent shooting of Renee Good by an agent for Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) in the United States, the Donald Trump administration’s latest narrative suggests that “deluded wine moms” are to blame for the violence in ICE-related demonstrations in Minneapolis and across the country.

This mother-blaming is nothing more than an old trick with a new spin.

Organized gangs of ‘wine moms’

Earlier this week, a Fox News columnist wrote that “organized gangs of wine moms” are using “antifa tactics” to “harass and impede” ICE activity. In the opinion piece, he claimed that “confusion” over the what constitutes civil disobedience is what “got 37-year-old Renee Good killed.”

Similarly, Vice-President J.D. Vance called Good a “deranged leftist” while a new acronym, AWFUL — Affluent White Female Urban Liberal — has appeared on social media.

In framing protesters like Good, a mother of three, as confused, aggressive and “delusional,” this narrative delegitimizes and pathologizes maternal activism. This strategy aims to divert blame from the U.S. government and its heavy-handed approach to immigration while also drawing on a centuries-old strategy of blaming mothers for social problems.

What makes a ‘wine mom?’

The term “wine mom” emerged over the last two decades as a cultural symbol of the contemporary white, suburban mother who turns to a nightly glass of wine (or two) to cope with the stresses of daily life.

The archetype goes back much further, reflected in literature, film and television characters, such as the wily Lucille Bluth of Arrested Development.

A clip from ‘Arrested Development’ featuring Lucille Bluth’s fondness for boozing.

Yet, this motif is less light-hearted than assumed: a recent systematic review reveals a strong link between maternal drinking and stress, especially for working mothers.

While it would be easy to view problematic drinking as another example of maternal failure, it is important not to. Here’s why.

Mother-blame in history

Throughout history, mothers have found themselves in the midst of what American sociologist Linda Blum calls a “mother-valor/mother-blame binary.”

When behaving in accordance with socially acceptable and desirable parameters — that is with warmth, femininity and selflessness — mothers are viewed as “good.” When mothers violate these norms, whether by choice, circumstance or by virtue of their race or class position, they’re “bad mothers.”

Mother-blame ultimately reflects the belief that mothers are solely responsible for their children’s behaviour and outcomes, along with the cultural tendency to blame them when things go wrong. Yet, as Blum points out, “mother-blame also serves as a metaphor for a range of political fears.”

Perhaps the most striking example of this is the suffrage movement, which represented a direct challenge to patriarchal notions that women belonged in the domestic sphere and lacked the intelligence to engage in political discourse.

Suffragettes in the United Kingdom — many of them mothers — occasionally used extreme tactics, such as window-smashing and arson, while women in the U.S. obstructed traffic and waged hunger strikes.

These activists were framed as threatening to not only the establishment, but also to families and the moral fabric of society.

Ironically, despite the fact that women’s entry into politics led to increased spending and improved outcomes related to women, children, families and health care, scholars have found that mother-blaming was as common after the women’s movement as it was before.

Contemporary mother-blame

Beyond political matters, contemporary mother-blame is rampant in other domains.

Mothers have been blamed for a wide variety of their children’s psychological problems, including anxiety, depression and inherited trauma. In media and literature, mothers are often blamed for criminality and violence, reflecting the notion that “mothers make monsters.”
When children struggle in school, educators and administrators may blame the mother. Mothers risk being called “too passive” if they don’t advocate for their children or “too aggressive” when they do.

Similarly, the “crazy woman” or “hysterical mother” is a well-known trope in custody law, and mothers may be blamed even when their children are abused by others. Mass shootings? Mom’s failure. The list goes on.

By setting up mothering as a high-stakes endeavour, the cultural norm of mother-blame also serves to “divide and conquer.”

In my sociology research, I found that mothers on Facebook worked to align themselves with like-minded “superior” mothers, while distancing themselves from perceived “inferior” mothers. This feeds into the cultural norm of “combative mothering,” which pits mothers against each other.

An old trick with a new spin

The “wine mom” narrative builds on this historical pattern of mother-blame. It is meant to trivialize, delegitimize, divide and denigrate mothers who are, in fact, well-organized and motivated activists concerned for their communities.

While there are legitimate concerns around maternal drinking as a coping mechanism, the “wine mom” label has begun to represent something different. Mothers are reclaiming the title to expand their cause.

As @sara_wiles, promoting the activist group @redwineblueusa stated on Instagram: “They meant to scare us back into the kitchen, but our actual response is, ‘Oh, I want to join!’”

We should acknowledge that rather than causing societal problems, mothers have a long history of trying to fix them, even if imperfectly. Mothers like Renee Good are no exception.

The Conversation

Darryn DiFrancesco 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. Blaming ‘wine moms’ for ICE protest violence is another baseless, misogynist myth – https://theconversation.com/blaming-wine-moms-for-ice-protest-violence-is-another-baseless-misogynist-myth-273786

What a US military base lost under Greenland’s ice sheet reveals about the island’s real strategic importance

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Gemma Ware, Host, The Conversation Weekly Podcast, The Conversation

U.S. Army Corps of Engineers via Wikimedia Commons

In the summer of 1959, a group of American soldiers began carving trenches in the Greenland ice sheet. Those trenches would become the snow-covered tunnels of Camp Century, a secret Arctic research base powered by a nuclear reactor.

It was located about 150 miles inland from Thule, now Pituffik, a large American military base set up in north-western Greenland after a military agreement with Denmark during world war two.

Camp Century operated for six years, during which time the scientists based there managed to drill a mile down to collect a unique set of ice cores. But by 1966, Camp Century had been abandoned, deemed too expensive and difficult to maintain.

Today, Donald Trump’s territorial ambitions for Greenland continue to cause concern and confusion in Europe, particularly for Denmark and Greenlanders themselves, who insist their island is not for sale.

One of the attractions of Greenland is the gleam of its rich mineral wealth, particularly rare earth minerals. Now that Greenland’s ice sheet is melting due to global warming, will this make the mineral riches easier to get at?

In this episode of The Conversation Weekly podcast, we talk to Paul Bierman, a geologist and expert on Greenland’s ice at the University of Vermont in the US. He explains why the history of what happened to Camp Century – and the secrets of its ice cores, misplaced for decades, but now back under the microscope – help us to understand why it’s not that simple.

Listen to the interview with Paul Bierman on The Conversation Weekly podcast. You can also read article by him about the history of US involvement in Greenland and the difficulty of mining on the island.

This episode of The Conversation Weekly was written and produced by Mend Mariwany and Gemma Ware. Mixing by Michelle Macklem and theme music by Neeta Sarl. Gemma Ware is the executive producer.

Newsclips in this episode from New York Times Podcasts, the BBC and NBC News.

Listen to The Conversation Weekly via any of the apps listed above, download it directly via our RSS feed or find out how else to listen here. A transcript of this episode is available via the Apple Podcasts or Spotify apps.

The Conversation

Paul Bierman receives funding from the US National Science Foundation and the University of Vermont Gund Institute for Environment

ref. What a US military base lost under Greenland’s ice sheet reveals about the island’s real strategic importance – https://theconversation.com/what-a-us-military-base-lost-under-greenlands-ice-sheet-reveals-about-the-islands-real-strategic-importance-274067

Quand les morts quittent les cimetières : nouvelles pratiques funéraires en pleine nature

Source: The Conversation – France (in French) – By Pascaline Thiollière, architecte (M’Arch), enseignante et chercheuse sur les ambiances et approches sensibles des espaces habités, Ecole d’architecture de Grenoble (ENSAG)

Une dispersion de cendres à Courtrai, en Belgique, dans le cimetière conçu par B. Secchi. Fourni par l’auteur

À bas bruit et hors de portée du marché du funéraire se développent des pratiques qui déplacent les morts et leur mémoire à l’extérieur des cimetières dans des espaces bien réels, au plus près des valeurs et des façons de vivre dont témoignaient les défunts de leur vivant.


Lorsque les espaces et les pratiques funéraires sont évoquées dans les médias ou dans le débat public français, c’est souvent aux approches des fêtes de la Toussaint, pour relater des évolutions en cours dans la gestion des funérailles et des cimetières, et pour mettre en lumière des services, objets, techniques ou technologies dites innovantes. Il était ces dernières années beaucoup question de l’écologisation des lieux et techniques funéraires (cimetière écologique, humusation/terramation, décarbonation des produits funéraires) et de la digitalisation du recueillement et de la mémoire (deadbots, gestion post-mortem des volontés et des données numériques, cimetières et mémoriaux virtuels, télétransmission des cérémonies). Mais discrètement, d’autres pratiques voient le jour.

Avec la crémation devenue majoritaire dans de nombreux territoires français, la dispersion des cendres dite « en pleine nature » se révèle très importante dans les souhaits et de plus en plus dans les faits. Pourtant, beaucoup méconnaissent le cadre légal et pratique de son application. Cet article dévoile les premiers éléments d’une enquête en cours sur ces pratiques discrètes qui témoignent d’une émancipation créative face à la tradition contraignante de la tombe et du cimetière.

Des cimetières de moins en moins fréquentés

Le cimetière paroissial du Moyen Âge qui plaçait la communauté des morts au plus près de l’église et de ses reliques, dans la promesse de son salut et de sa résurrection, était un espace multifonctionnel et central de la vie et de la ville.

Le cimetière de la modernité matérialiste et hygiéniste est déplacé dans les faubourgs, puis dans les périphéries de la ville et se marginalise petit à petit des fonctions urbaines. Il devient, comme le dit Foucault, « l’autre ville, où chaque famille possède sa noire demeure », puis s’efface dans l’étalement urbain du XXᵉ siècle.

À l’intérieur des murs d’enceinte qui deviennent souvent de simples clôtures, les aménagements pour gagner de la place se rationalisent, le mobilier d’un marché funéraire en voie d’industrialisation et de mondialisation se standardisent. Les morts y sont rangés pour des durées de concessions écourtées au fil des décennies, sous la pression d’une mortalité en hausse (génération des baby-boomers) et de la saturation de nombreux cimetières urbains.

Dans les enquêtes régulières sur « Les Français et les obsèques » du Centre de recherche pour l’étude et l’observation des conditions de vie (Credoc), les Français montrent peu d’affection envers leurs cimetières qu’ils jugent trop souvent démesurés, froids et impersonnels. Alors qu’ils étaient encore 50 % en 2005, seulement un tiers des Français de plus de 40 ans continuent vingt ans plus tard à les fréquenter systématiquement à la Toussaint. Pour les Français de moins de 40 ans, ils sont encore moins souvent des lieux de sens et d’attachement.

Cette désaffection des cimetières, pour beaucoup synonymes d’enfermement tant matériel que mental, explique en partie l’essor de la crémation et de la dispersion des cendres. Les dimensions économiques et écologiques de ces options funéraires viennent renforcer cette tendance et s’exprime par la volonté de ne pas être un poids pour ses descendants (coût et soin des tombes) et/ou pour la planète (bilan carbone important de l’inhumation avec caveau et/ou monuments), et illustre la proposition de garder l’espace pour les vivants et le vivant.

La crémation gagne du terrain

La crémation était répandue en Europe avant sa christianisation et a même été conservée marginalement en périodes médiévales dans certaines cultures d’Europe du Nord. Elle se pratiquait sur des bûchers à foyer ouvert. Sa pratique, telle que nous la connaissons aujourd’hui en foyer fermé, a été rendue possible par la technique et l’essor du four industriel au XIXᵉ siècle, et par la plaidoirie des crématistes depuis la Révolution française jusqu’à la fin du XXᵉ siècle où la pratique va définitivement s’instituer.

Si les fragments calcinés étaient conservés communément dans des urnes, c’est avec l’apparition d’une autre technique industrielle dans le crématorium que la dispersion a pu être imaginée : la crémulation, c’est-à-dire la pulvérisation des fragments sortant du four, permettant d’obtenir une matière plus fine et moins volumineuse. Cette matière aseptisée par le feu et homogénéisée par le crémulateur peut alors rejoindre d’autres destinations que les urnes et le cimetière.

En 1976, un nouveau texte de loi insiste sur le fait que les cendres doivent être pulvérisées afin que des ossements ne puissent y subsister, effaçant ainsi ce qu’il restait de la forme d’un corps. Cette nouvelle matérialité peut alors se fondre discrètement dans nos lieux familiers, les morts se retrouvent inscrits dans nos paysages privilégiés, et leur souvenir cohabiter avec les activités récréatives et contemplatives qui prennent place dans les espaces naturels non aménagés.

Dispersions, disséminations

Alors que de nombreux Français pensent cette pratique interdite, son cadre légal et la notion de « pleine nature » ont été précisés en 2008 et en 2009. Ce cadre relativement souple permet de disperser les cendres en de nombreux espaces publics (sauf sur la voie publique) à distance des habitations et zones aménagées (parcs naturels, forêts, rivières, mers éloignées des côtes), plus difficilement dans des espaces privés avec la contrainte d’obtenir l’accord du propriétaire d’un droit d’accès perpétuel, ce qui peut poser des difficultés au moment des ventes de biens.

La « pleine nature » correspond aujourd’hui à une proportion d’un quart à un tiers des destinations des cendres des défunts crématisés. À travers un appel à témoignages anonymes en ligne ouvert dans le cadre d’une recherche en cours depuis 2023, une cinquantaine de micro-récits de dispersion ont été rassemblés et constituent un premier corpus pour appréhender ces pratiques discrètes et peu documentées. Ces récits inédits révèlent l’émergence de nouvelles manières de rendre hommage aux défunts et de donner du sens à la mort et à la vie dans des mondes contemporains en crise.

Le milieu du funéraire et de l’accompagnement du deuil se montre réservé face à cette pratique donnant lieu à des sépultures labiles en proie aux éléments, sans traces tangibles identifiant les défunts et sans garantie de se transmettre au fil des générations, parfois difficilement accessibles, isolant ces morts des autres morts.

Faisant écho de craintes parfois avérées de rendre les deuils plus difficiles, les professionnels doivent pourtant reconnaître que malgré ces nouvelles contraintes et en en connaissant les impacts, une grande majorité de ceux qui ont opté pour la dispersion des cendres de leurs proches reconduiraient le choix de la dispersion. Celui-ci procure en effet pour beaucoup le sentiment de satisfaction d’une promesse tenue, car ces destinations en pleine nature sont le souhait des vivants et se déroulent par là même souvent sans conflit au sein de l’entourage des défunts, dans une ambiance de sérénité, d’un chagrin joyeux, dans les plis de paysages et de territoires intimes aux défunts et à leurs proches.

De manière assez naturelle découlent de ces gestes et territoires de dispersion des prises pour imaginer des suites, des revisites, des retrouvailles sous forme de balades discrètement ritualisées, de pique-niques et baignades mémorielles, des façons de reconfigurer et d’entretenir les liens avec les défunts dans ces territoires familiers.

La diversité des lieux, des configurations sensibles et des éléments en jeu dans les dispersions renouvelle les possibles en termes de gestes et d’actes d’hommage envers les défunts, lors de la dispersion comme après, imbriquant la mémoire du mort dans des souvenirs de moments de vie partagés.

Les mises en gestes de la dispersion partiellement décrites dans les témoignages et rejouées dans le collectif de chercheurs pour en révéler des parts implicites montrent aussi des moments de flottement, des maladresses, des surprises et des improvisations qui se dénouent souvent avec des rires. Ce sont autant de marges dans lesquelles peuvent s’engouffrer des marques de la singularité des personnes en jeu, manœuvrer avec audace les acteurs pour s’approprier ces moments importants et en faire des lieux d’individuation, un premier pas actif sur le chemin du deuil.

Avec la dispersion des cendres, le lieu de nos morts n’est plus l’espace autre, l’autre ville des noires demeures, mais l‘espace même qui accueille nos moments de vie, là où nos beaux souvenirs avec eux font gage d’éternité. La suite de l’enquête permettra d’affiner les contours et les potentialités de ces pratiques.


Cet article est publié dans le cadre de la série « Regards croisés : culture, recherche et société », publiée avec le soutien de la Délégation générale à la transmission, aux territoires et à la démocratie culturelle du ministère de la culture.

The Conversation

Pascaline Thiollière 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. Quand les morts quittent les cimetières : nouvelles pratiques funéraires en pleine nature – https://theconversation.com/quand-les-morts-quittent-les-cimetieres-nouvelles-pratiques-funeraires-en-pleine-nature-272086

Mark Carney invoked Thucydides at Davos – what people get wrong about this ancient Greek writer’s take on power

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Neville Morley, Professor in Classics, Ancient History, Religion, and Theology, University of Exeter

In his speech to this year’s World Economic Forum at Davos, Canadian prime minister Mark Carney mourned the demise of international cooperation by evoking an authority from ancient Greece.

“It seems that every day we’re reminded that we live in an era of great power rivalry, that the rules-based order is fading, that the strong can do what they can, and the weak must suffer what they must. And this aphorism of Thucydides is presented as inevitable, as the natural logic of international relations reasserting itself.”

Journalists and academics from Denmark, Greece and the United States have quoted the same line from the ancient Greek historian when discussing Donald Trump’s demand for Greenland. It is cited as inspiration for his adviser Stephen Miller’s aggressive foreign policy approach, not least towards Venezuela.

In blogs and social media, the fate of Gaza and Russia’s invasion of Ukraine have been interpreted through the same frame. It’s clearly difficult to contemplate today’s world and not react as W.H. Auden did to the collapse of the old order in 1939: “Exiled Thucydides knew.”

The paradox of the “strong do what they can” line is that it’s understood in radically different ways. On the one hand, it’s presented as a description of the true nature of the world (against naive liberals) and as a normative statement (the weak should submit).

On the other hand, it’s seen as an image of the dark authoritarian past we hoped was behind us, and as a condemnation of unfettered power. All these interpretations claim the authority of Thucydides.

That is a powerful imprimatur.

Thucydides’ insistence on the importance of seeking out the truth about the past, rather than accepting any old story, grounded his claim that such inquiry would help readers understand present and future events.

As a result, in the modern era he has been praised both as the forerunner of critical scientific historiography and as a pioneering political theorist. The absence of anything much resembling theoretical rules in his text has not stopped people from claiming to identify them.

The strong/weak quote is a key example. It comes from the Melian dialogue from Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian War. In 416BC, an Athenian force arrived at the neutral island of Melos and demanded its surrender. The Melian leaders asked to negotiate, and Thucydides presents a fictional reconstruction of the subsequent exchange.

The quote comes from the beginning, when the Athenians stipulated that they would not claim any right to seize Melos, other than the power to do so, and conversely would not listen to any arguments from principle. “Questions of justice apply only to those equal in power,” they stated bluntly. “Otherwise, such things as are possible, the superior exact and the weak give up.”

Within modern international relations theory, this is sometimes interpreted as the first statement of the realist school of thought.

Scholars like John Mearsheimer claim that Thucydides identified the basic principle of realist theory that, in an “anarchic” world, international law applies only if it’s in powerful states’ strategic interest, and otherwise might makes right. The fate of the Melians, utterly destroyed after they foolishly decided to resist, reinforces the lesson.

But these are the words of characters in Thucydides’ narrative, not of Thucydides himself. We cannot simply assume that Thucydides believed that “might makes right” is the true nature of the world, or that he intended his readers to draw that conclusion.

The Athenians themselves may not have believed it, since their goal was to intimidate the Melians into surrendering without a fight. More importantly, Thucydides and his readers knew all about the disastrous Athenian expedition to Sicily the following year, which showed the serious practical limits to the “want, take, have” mentality.

So, we shouldn’t take this as a realist theoretical proposition. But if Thucydides intended instead simply to depict imperialist arrogance, teach “pride comes before a fall”, or explore how Athenian attitudes led to catastrophic miscalculation, he could have composed a single speech.

His choice of dialogue shows that things are more complicated, and not just about Athens. He is equally interested in the psychology of the “weak”, the Melians’ combination of pleading, bargaining, wishful thinking and defiance, and their ultimate refusal to accept the Athenian argument.

This doesn’t mean that the Melian arguments are correct, even if we sympathise with them more. Their thinking can be equally problematic. Perhaps they have a point in suggesting that if they give in immediately, they lose all hope, “but if we resist you then there is still hope we may not be destroyed”.

Their belief that the gods will help them “because we are righteous men defending ourselves against aggression”, however, is naive at best. The willingness of the ruling clique to sacrifice the whole city to preserve their own position must be questioned.

The back and forth of dialogue highlights conflicting world views and values, and should prompt us to consider our own position. What is the place of justice in an anarchic world? Is it right to put sovereignty above people’s lives? How does it feel to be strong or weak?

It’s worthwhile engaging with the whole episode, not just isolated lines – or even trying to find your own way through the debate to a less bad outcome.

The English political philosopher Thomas Hobbes, introducing his classic 1629 translation, noted that Thucydides never offered rules or lessons but was nevertheless “the most politic historiographer that ever writ”. Modern readers have too often taken isolated quotes out of context, assumed that they represent the author’s own views and claimed them as timeless laws. Hobbes saw Thucydides as presenting complex situations that we need to puzzle out.

It’s remarkable that an author famed for his depth and complexity gets reduced to soundbites. But the contradictions in how those soundbites are interpreted – the way that Thucydides presents us with a powerful and controversial idea but doesn’t tell us what to think about it – should send us back to the original.


Looking for something good? Cut through the noise with a carefully curated selection of the latest releases, live events and exhibitions, straight to your inbox every fortnight, on Fridays. Sign up here.


The Conversation

Neville Morley 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. Mark Carney invoked Thucydides at Davos – what people get wrong about this ancient Greek writer’s take on power – https://theconversation.com/mark-carney-invoked-thucydides-at-davos-what-people-get-wrong-about-this-ancient-greek-writers-take-on-power-274086

America’s next big critical minerals source could be coal mine pollution – if we can agree on who owns it

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Hélène Nguemgaing, Assistant Clinical Professor of Critical Resources & Sustainability Analytics, University of Maryland

Acid mine waste turns rocks orange along Shamokin Creek in Pennsylvania.
Jake C/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

Across Appalachia, rust-colored water seeps from abandoned coal mines, staining rocks orange and coating stream beds with metals. These acidic discharges, known as acid mine drainage, are among the region’s most persistent environmental problems. They disrupt aquatic life, corrode pipes and can contaminate drinking water for decades.

However, hidden in that orange drainage are valuable metals known as rare earth elements that are vital for many technologies the U.S. relies on, including smartphones, wind turbines and military jets. In fact, studies have found that the concentrations of rare earths in acid mine waste can be comparable to the amount in ores mined to extract rare earths.

Scientists estimate that more than 13,700 miles (22,000 kilometers) of U.S. streams, predominantly in Pennsylvania and West Virginia, are contaminated with acid mine discharge.

A closer look at acid mine drainage from abandoned mines in Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania Fish and Boat Commission.

We and our colleagues at West Virginia University have been working on ways to turn the acid waste in those bright orange creeks into a reliable domestic source for rare earths while also cleaning the water.

Experiments show extraction can work. If states can also sort out who owns that mine waste, the environmental cost of mining might help power a clean energy future.

Rare earths face a supply chain risk

Rare earth elements are a group of 17 metals, also classified as critical minerals, that are considered vital to the nation’s economy or security.

Despite their name, rare earth elements are not all that rare. They occur in many places around the planet, but in small quantities mixed with other minerals, which makes them costly and complex to separate and refine.

A mine and buildings with mountains in the background.
MP Materials’ Mountain Pass Rare Earth Mine and Processing Facility, in California near the Nevada border, is one of the few rare earth mines in the U.S.
Tmy350/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

China controls about 70% of global rare earth production and nearly all refining capacity. This near monopoly gives the Chinese government the power to influence prices, export policies and access to rare earth elements. China has used that power in trade disputes as recently as 2025.

The United States, which currently imports about 80% of the rare earth elements it uses, sees China’s control over these critical minerals as a risk and has made locating domestic sources a national priority.

The U.S. Geological Survey has been mapping locations for potential rare earth mining, shown in pink. But it takes years to explore a locations and then get a mine up and running.
USGS

Although the U.S. Geological Survey has been mapping potential locations for extracting rare earth elements, getting from exploration to production takes years. That’s why unconventional sources, like extracting rare earth elements from acid mine waste, are drawing interest.

Turning a mine waste problem into a solution

Acid mine drainage forms when sulfide minerals, such as pyrite, are exposed to air during mining. This creates sulfuric acid, which then dissolves heavy metals such as copper, lead and mercury from surrounding rock. The metals end up in groundwater and creeks, where iron in the mix gives the water an orange color.

Expensive treatment systems can neutralize the acid, with the dissolved metals settling into an orange sludge in treatment ponds.

For decades, that sludge was treated as hazardous waste and hauled to landfills. But scientists at West Virginia University and the National Energy Technology Laboratory have found that it contains concentrations of rare earth elements comparable to those found in mined ores. These elements are also easier to extract from acid mine waste because the acidic water has already released them from the surrounding rock.

Metals flowing from acid mine waste make a creek look orange.
Acid mine drainage flowing into Decker’s Creek in Morgantown, West Virginia, in 2024.
Helene Nguemgaing

Experiments have shown how the metals can be extracted: Researchers collected sludge, separated out rare earth elements using water-safe chemistry, and then returned the cleaner water to nearby streams.

It is like mining without digging, turning something harmful into a useful resource. If scaled up, this process could lower cleanup costs, create local jobs and strengthen America’s supply of materials needed for renewable energy and high-tech manufacturing.

But there’s a problem: Who owns the recovered minerals?

The ownership question

Traditional mining law covers minerals underground, not those extracted from water naturally running off abandoned mine sites.

Nonprofit watershed groups that treat mine waste to clean up the water often receive public funding meant solely for environmental cleanup. If these groups start selling recovered rare earth elements, they could generate revenue for more stream cleanup projects, but they might also risk violating grant terms or nonprofit rules.

To better understand the policy challenges, we surveyed mine water treatment operators across Pennsylvania and West Virginia. The majority of treatment systems were under landowner agreements in which the operators had no permanent property rights. Most operators said “ownership uncertainty” was one of the biggest barriers to investment in the recovery of rare earth elements, projects that can cost millions of dollars.

Not surprisingly, water treatment operators who owned the land where treatment was taking place were much more likely to be interested in rare earth element extraction.

A map shows many acid mine drainage sites, largely in the column from the southwest to the northeast.
Map of acid mine drainage sites in West Virginia.
Created by Helene Nguemgaing, based on data from West Virginia Department of Environmental Protection, West Virginia Office of GIS Coordination, and U.S. Geological Survey

West Virginia took steps in 2022 to boost rare earth recovery, innovation and cleanup of acid mine drainage. A new law gives ownership of recovered rare earth elements to whoever extracts them. So far, the law has not been applied to large-scale projects.

Across the border, Pennsylvania’s Environmental Good Samaritan Act protects volunteers who treat mine water from liability but says nothing about ownership.

A map shows many acid mine drainage sites, particularly in the western part of the state.
Map of acid mine drainage sites in Pennsylvania.
Created by Helene Nguemgaing, based on data from Pennsylvania Spatial Data Access

This difference matters. Clear rules like West Virginia’s provide greater certainty, while the lack of guidance in Pennsylvania can leave companies and nonprofits hesitant about undertaking expensive recovery projects. Among the treatment operators we surveyed, interest in rare earth element extraction was twice as high in West Virginia than in Pennsylvania.

The economics of waste to value

Recovering rare earth elements from mine water won’t replace conventional mining. The quantities available at drainage sites are far smaller than those produced by large mines, even though the concentration can be just as high, and the technology to extract them from mine waste is still developing.

Still, the use of mine waste offers a promising way to supplement the supply of rare earth elements with a domestic source and help offset environmental costs while cleaning up polluted streams.

Early studies suggest that recovering rare earth elements using technologies being developed today could be profitable, particularly when the projects also recover additional critical materials, such as cobalt and manganese, which are used in industrial processes and batteries. Extraction methods are improving, too, making the process safer, cleaner and cheaper.

Government incentives, research funding and public-private partnerships could speed this progress, much as subsidies support fossil fuel extraction and have helped solar and wind power scale up in providing electricity.

Treating acid mine drainage and extracting its valuable rare earth elements offers a way to transform pollution into prosperity. Creating policies that clarify ownership, investing in research and supporting responsible recovery could ensure that Appalachian communities benefit from this new chapter, one in which cleanup and clean energy advance together.

The Conversation

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

ref. America’s next big critical minerals source could be coal mine pollution – if we can agree on who owns it – https://theconversation.com/americas-next-big-critical-minerals-source-could-be-coal-mine-pollution-if-we-can-agree-on-who-owns-it-272029

Health and competence are shaping Trump’s presidency. What about his predecessors?

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Ronald W. Pruessen, Emeritus Professor of History, University of Toronto

One year into U.S. President Donald Trump’s second term, questions about his health and competence are as pervasive as the gilt sprawling through the Oval Office.

These questions grew even louder following his rambling speech this week at Davos, where he repeatedly referred to Greenland as Iceland, falsely claimed the United States gave the island back to Denmark during the Second World War and boasted that only recently, NATO leaders had been lauding his leadership (“They called me ‘daddy,’ right?”).




Read more:
Trump’s annexation of Greenland seemed imminent. Now it’s on much shakier ground.


Do swollen ankles and whopping hand bruises signal other serious problems? Do other Davos-like distortions and ramblings — plus a tendency to fall asleep during meetings — reveal mental decline even more startling than Joe Biden’s in the final couple of years of his presidency?

This is not the first time in White House history that American citizens have had concerns about the health of their president — nor the first time that historians like me have raised questions.

The experiences of Trump’s predecessors remind us of the dangers inherent in the inevitable human frailty of the very powerful.

Presidents with physical health issues

Frailty can entail crises in physical health like William Henry Harrison’s 1841 death from pneumonia 32 days after his inauguration or Warren G. Harding’s heart attack and death in 1923.

Frailty can also involve weaknesses in brain function, which impact the capacity for analysis and problem-solving.

Bodily trauma can have obvious effects on presidential competence. Sometimes it’s a temporary impact, as with Dwight D. Eisenhower’s 1955 heart attack and recovery. But sometimes it’s permanent: Woodrow Wilson never recovered his capacities after an October 1919 stroke, with White House leadership languishing for 18 months under his wife’s gatekeeping until his death.

In other cases, the effect of physical ailments on competence was less clear — and therefore debatable. Franklin D. Roosevelt’s heart problems during the Second World War grew serious enough to contribute to his April 1945 death. Did they also compromise his mental capacities during the controversial Yalta Conference?




Read more:
By VE Day in 1945, Stalin had got what he wanted in Poland – now Putin may get what he wants in Ukraine


Did John F. Kennedy’s undisclosed Addison’s disease and medication regimes affect his ability to navigate major challenges like the Cuban Missile Crisis or Vietnam?

Mental health concerns

There have also been debates about the possible competence consequences of the behavioural tendencies and mental health conditions of several American presidents:

• Did Abraham Lincoln’s bouts of deep depression affect leadership capacities during multiple Civil War crises, including the Union defeat at Chancellorsville in May 1863 or during cabinet conflicts?

• Did Theodore Roosevelt’s impulsivity help shape what even his secretary of state once privately called the “rape” of Colombia in order to build the Panama Canal? (Harvard psychologist and philosopher William James said Roosevelt was “still mentally in the Sturm und Drang period of early adolescence”).

• Did Richard Nixon’s periodically high stress levels and alcohol consumption influence his decision-making on the Cambodian incursion of 1970 or the Watergate crisis?




Read more:
Supreme Court’s ruling in Trump v. United States would have given Nixon immunity for Watergate crimes — but 50 years ago he needed a presidential pardon to avoid prison


Questions and concerns about Trump’s physical and mental health, then, aren’t unique — even if the causes for concern are far more numerous than they were for previous presidents.

The impact of physical health on competence seems the less urgent of worrisome issues. While the Trump presidency as a whole has been notoriously prone to dishonesty, exaggeration and avoidance, the current medical team seems to be offering reasonable transparency.

Tests have been identified — for example, an October 2025 CT scan to assess potential heart issues — and relatively non-alarming diagnoses have been offered (“perfectly normal” CT scan results; common “chronic venous insufficiency” is responsible for swollen ankles).

More troubling is Trump’s mental health — both his full cognitive capacities and his psychological profile.

Cognitive issues?

In 2018 and 2025, Trump was given the Montreal Cognitive Assessment (MoCA) a screening tool for possible dementia. Despite the president’s claim to having “aced” the test, his score has not been revealed.

Numbers matter here. Out of a maximum 30 points, scores below 25 suggest mild to severe cognitive issues.

Of equal importance, the MoCA provides no insight into markers of mental competence, like reasoning and problem-solving. Well-established test batteries cover such ground (the Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale is widely used), but Trump has not likely worked through any. (Neither, to be sure, have any predecessors — though none have raised the concerns so evident in 2026.)

Unofficial diagnoses of personality characteristics also fuel debate about Trump’s competence and mental health. The scale of the president’s ego is a prime example of concern.

Psychological issues?

On one hand, in the absence of intensive in-person assessment, psychiatrists are understandably reluctant to apply the label of “narcissistic personality disorder” (NPD) as defined by the American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM). On the other hand, many observers are also understandably struck by how Trump’s behaviour matches the DSM’s checklist of symptoms for the disorder.

The president clearly displays the grandiose sense of self-importance seen as a primary marker. Trump’s “I alone” and “I could shoot someone on Fifth Avenue” boasts of earlier years have grown exponentially by 2025-26. He’s depicted himself as pope or “King Trump” bombing protesters.

More serious are his endless and false claims that he won the 2020 presidential election, that he has the right to torch constitutional norms like “due process” that are enabling ICE abuses in Minneapolis and elsewhere, and that he can disregard the need for congressional approval on policies like reducing cancer research and other health programs.

Trump’s declaration that only “my morality” will determine his defiance of international laws and standards (as in threats to Greenland and Canada and his actual invasion of Venezuela) are also deeply troubling, especially given serious questions about that morality in terms of the Jeffrey Epstein files.

Psychiatrists also associate NPD with a sense of open-ended entitlement. Comic examples emerge: rebranding the (now) “Donald J. Trump and John F. Kennedy Center,” his lack of embarrassment in relishing the absurd FIFA Peace Prize or María Corina Machado’s surrender of her Nobel Peace Prize.

Brazenness

Trump’s willingness to trample upon rights within the U.S. and his apparent eagerness to disrupt and dismantle the building blocks of the post-Second World War international order are also possible signs of psychological problems.




Read more:
Venezuela attack, Greenland threats and Gaza assault mark the collapse of international legal order


He is equally brazen in fostering the wealth of his family and friends: for example, accepting emoluments like multi-million dollar donations for a White House ballroom that will surely be given Trump branding (to compete with the Lincoln Bedroom?) and using Oval Office prestige to turbo-charge massive real estate and financial ventures.

The Trump family’s World Liberty Financial cryptocurrency enterprise “earned” more than $1 billion in 2025, after all.

Against the backdrop of the looming mid-term elections, Trump’s ever-compounding ego and appetites remain of burning concern — along with his overall physical health and mental competence. Other presidents faced similar questions even without the current storm of scandals and extremes.

Will Trump relish the distinction of leaving his predecessors in the dust on this front too?

The Conversation

In the past, Ronald W. Pruessen has received funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

ref. Health and competence are shaping Trump’s presidency. What about his predecessors? – https://theconversation.com/health-and-competence-are-shaping-trumps-presidency-what-about-his-predecessors-273880