How the U.S.‑Israel war against Iran is exposing the limits of the petrodollar system

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Elliot Goodell Ugalde, PhD Candidate, Political Economy, Queen’s University, Ontario

For the first time since the Second World War, excluding the COVID-19 pandemic, public debt in the United States has surpassed the entire economy’s GDP. As of late March, debt held by the public reached US$31.27 trillion, just ahead of the GDP of US$31.22 trillion.

This threshold is often treated as a long-term fiscal issue, but the economic costs of this debt are now moving to the forefront. The most immediate pressure comes from the possibility that major foreign holders of American assets begin pulling capital out of U.S. markets.

Gulf states — whose confidence in U.S. fiscal and military protection has been shaken by the U.S.-Israel attacks on Iran — collectively hold roughly US$2 trillion in U.S. assets through their sovereign wealth funds.

Officials across the Gulf are already reassessing their positions. In March, one Gulf official said three of the four largest economies in the Gulf Cooperation Council were reviewing their sovereign wealth fund positions to offset the impact of the Iran war.

Why the U.S. cannot simply block a selloff

The U.S. has limited options to prevent foreign investors from selling. The freedom to enter and exit what the Federal Reserve Bank calls “the deepest and most liquid fixed-income market in the world” is exactly what makes U.S. assets attractive. That same openness creates a structural vulnerability.

The U.S. economy relies heavily on stretched asset valuationselevated prices in stocks, bonds and real estate — where market values far exceed their underlying fundamentals.

When holders lose confidence and these inflated markets correct, a run is triggered and prices fall sharply, as happened in the 2008 financial crisis. The real economy ends up paying the price.

The present situation carries similar risks. If Gulf states start selling U.S. assets amid ongoing regional instability, falling prices would reduce the value of collateral across the system.

As leveraged institutions see their balance sheets weaken, they cut borrowing and sell assets. This pushes prices down further, setting off a chain reaction that spreads financial stress internationally.

Swap lines as a stop-gap

As these pressures build, one tool has come back into focus: central bank swap lines. These are arrangements between central banks that let countries access U.S. dollars without selling their American assets. Forced selling would push prices down and spread financial stress.

During the 2008 crisis, the Fed used swap lines as an emergency backup to extend dollar liquidity to banks and governments that suddenly needed it.

U.S. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent recently said that several American allies in the Gulf region and Asia had requested swap lines, saying the arrangements would prevent the “disorderly” sale of U.S. assets.

But where does this dollar liquidity come from? For decades, the global role of the U.S. dollar allowed it to spend more than it earned, while other countries earned dollars through trade and invested them back into U.S. markets. Gulf states were central to this, using oil revenues to buy U.S. bonds, stocks, real estate and weapons.

This was part of a broader arrangement known as the petrodollar system, which traces back to a 1974 agreement between the U.S. and Saudi Arabia. Oil was priced in U.S. dollars, money flowed into the U.S. and in return Gulf countries received political and military backing.

This allowed the Federal Reserve to expand the money supply through quantitative easing at home and by extending liquidity into the global system through swap lines.

Though this can stabilize markets in the short term, it also deepens reliance on repeated intervention, buying time rather than resolving underlying pressures.

A fracturing arrangement

The petrodollar system only works as long as Gulf states keep sending money back into U.S. markets. Swap lines reverse that condition: dollars must now flow to the Gulf instead of from it.

Iran’s pressure campaign on Gulf states, including attacks on economic assets and leveraging the Strait of Hormuz, are creating uncertainty in oil markets, government budgets and regional stability.

Gulf sovereign wealth funds have responded by placing greater emphasis on liquidity and flexibility.

The United Arab Emirates’ exit from OPEC on May 1 shows how far the old energy-financial bargain has fractured. Gulf states now want more control over production, revenue and liquidity than the cartel system allows. The move also likely reflects U.S. pressure to bring oil prices down in the short term.




Read more:
The UAE is leaving the OPEC oil cartel. What could that mean for oil prices?


That strategy cannot last. Lower oil prices may help the U.S. and other importers in the short run, but Gulf states still depend on strong revenues to fund budgets, sovereign wealth funds and diversification.

Gulf states are also signalling a willingness to expand the use of alternative currencies, including China’s yuan, for portions of their oil trade if regional instability disrupts dollar liquidity. The shift would merely accelerate the growing trend among emerging economies to move away from U.S. dollar dependence.

Extending swap lines to Gulf states may slow that process, but it may not be enough to reverse the currency diversification already underway.

A system under pressure

The global financial system was already moving toward greater fragmentation and weaker reliance on the U.S. dollar long before the Iran war.

U.S. President Donald Trump’s escalation with Iran has accelerated that process by shaking confidence in the political and military foundations that sustained the petrodollar system for decades.

Behind the scenes, policymakers are increasingly relying on swap lines, monetary expansion and emergency co-ordination measures to stabilize dollar liquidity and reassure allies. These tools were once reserved for acute crises, but are now becoming part of the normal functioning of the system and undermining U.S. asset credibility.

Underlying all of this is a global economy shaped by decades of financialization, growing dependence on inflated asset markets and mounting geopolitical rivalry, all of which are placing increasing strain on the old U.S. centred order.

The Conversation

Elliot Goodell Ugalde is affiliated with the Centre for International and Defence Policy.

Natalie Braun 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 the U.S.‑Israel war against Iran is exposing the limits of the petrodollar system – https://theconversation.com/how-the-u-s-israel-war-against-iran-is-exposing-the-limits-of-the-petrodollar-system-282226

Fearful, diminished and isolated: what this year’s Victory Day parade in Moscow tells us about Russia’s war against Ukraine

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Jennifer Mathers, Senior Lecturer in International Politics, Aberystwyth University

The military parade through Moscow’s Red Square on May 9, “Victory Day”, is the pinnacle of Russia’s annual celebrations marking the end of the second world war. Televised live and watched by millions, including invited foreign dignitaries, the Victory Day parade is all about showcasing Russia’s status and pride.

The first Victory Day parade was held in 1945 amid the triumph and relief at the defeat of Nazi Germany. A second was held in 1965 – but only two more were staged by the Soviet Union, in 1985 and 1990.

Under the leadership of Vladimir Putin, however, the parade has become a huge demonstration of Russia’s military prowess and might. And, since the start of Russia’s mass invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, the parade has also provided a snapshot of the progress of the conflict, including the country’s wartime mood and the extent of its international support.

But this year’s Victory Day parade showed the world a Russia that is fearful, diminished and isolated. There were no military vehicles or equipment on display. Instead, the products of Russia’s military industry were only visible to the crowds in video images displayed on big screens. Concerned that Ukraine might attack Moscow during the parade, Russian officials made the decision to protect valuable weapons needed for the war by withdrawing them from the event entirely.

The Russians had good reasons for their anxieties. Ukraine has developed the capability to strike targets deep inside Russian territory. Just a few days before the parade, two of Moscow’s airports were temporarily closed in response to hundreds of drones reportedly attacking in multiple regions of Russia, including near the capital.

This is not the first time that Russian officials have scaled down a Victory Day parade out of concern about Ukrainian attacks. In 2023 the situation was similar, with drone strikes in Russia leading up to the holiday amid widespread expectation of an imminent major Ukrainian counteroffensive. But even then, the number of military vehicles in Red Square not eliminated entirely. And the following year the parade featured launchers for intercontinental ballistic missiles to emphasise that Russia was willing and able to use any means necessary – including nuclear weapons – to impose its will on Ukraine. In 2025 the parade featured nearly 200 military vehicles.

Now, in the fifth year of the war, the Russian leadership is clearly concerned about their ability to protect their capital city from the Ukrainians, despite surrounding Moscow with elaborate air defences – including some equipment hastily relocated from combat zones.

It was not only the absence of military equipment that made this Victory Day parade underwhelming. One of the features of the event that helps to elevate it beyond a national holiday is the presence of international distinguished guests in the audience. This year, only a handful of national leaders were in attendance, three of whom represent former Soviet states and close allies of Russia: Belarus, Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan.

The contrast with last year’s parade was stark. In 2025 – to celebrate the 80th anniversary of the end of the second world war – Putin hosted leaders from nearly 30 countries, most notably China’s president Xi Jinping, who was given the place of honour next to Putin. Chinese soldiers marched in the parade, providing a further symbol of the cooperation between the two countries and the support that Moscow could rely on from Beijing.

This year Russia’s president was surrounded not by powerful world leaders but by elderly war veterans placed around him in the viewing stand. In this company, Putin looked like just another old man, dreaming of glory days long behind him.

The sharp reduction in the number – and status – of foreign leaders that the Russians were able to attract to Moscow this year reflects changes in the international political climate that are not in Russia’s favour. In 2025, the Slovakian prime minister, Robert Fico, attended the parade – an indication of rifts within the European Union over the war and support for Ukraine.

In 2026 Fico was again in Moscow – but didn’t attend the parade. Last year Venezuelan President Nicholas Maduro sat in the viewing stands – this year he sits in a US jail having been removed from power in an American raid.

War-weariness in Russia

Putin’s Victory Day speech this year was another indication of a change in Russia’s fortunes, striking a far less confident tone than in previous years. In 2023, the Russian president compensated for that year’s scaled-back parade with defiant rhetoric, claiming Russia was under threat of attack from the west and styling the conflict as “the people’s war”. In 2024, Putin responded to a suggestion from French president, Emmanuel Macron, that western troops might be deployed to Ukraine with thinly veiled threats that Russia might use nuclear weapons to reassert its dominance.

This year Putin was far more subdued. Although he denounced the west and claimed that victory would belong to Russia, these statements had a tired, ritualistic feel. His emphasis on Russia’s ability to endure anything and respond to any challenge hinted at the current state of the war.

Russia is losing territory on the battlefield to the Ukrainian forces for the first time since 2024 and is reported to be losing troops faster than it can replace them. Meanwhile, Ukrainian drones regularly attack Russian oil refineries, threatening Moscow’s ability to sell its most profitable export.

But this war is far from over. Russia still has a large military, a well-resourced defence industry and is increasingly drawing in foreign soldiers to fight on its side – North Koreans marched alongside Russian troops in the parade.

But while Russia may not be on the verge of defeat, the way that it celebrated its most important holiday of the year suggests a new war-weariness. It’s a big contrast with the confidence exuded by Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelensky. His tongue-in-cheek decree giving Putin permission to hold the parade suggests a turning point in the two countries’ morale – at the very least.

The Conversation

Jennifer Mathers 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. Fearful, diminished and isolated: what this year’s Victory Day parade in Moscow tells us about Russia’s war against Ukraine – https://theconversation.com/fearful-diminished-and-isolated-what-this-years-victory-day-parade-in-moscow-tells-us-about-russias-war-against-ukraine-282609

International Booker Prize 2026: heartbreak, brutality, shapeshifting – six experts review the nominees

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Vinicius de Carvalho, Director, King’s Brazil Institute and Senior Lecturer for Brazilian Studies, King’s College London

This year’s International Booker Prize shortlist presents a diverse and intriguing array of books that all demonstrate the highly creative imagination and inventiveness of their authors – and translators, of course.

Readers are invited to immerse themselves in six richly told tales from Bulgaria to Brazil and several points in between. Across these novels, we meet the unreliable narrator of a meta-fiction, a failed modern witch, a family of Iranian émigrés, a filmmaker compromised by the Nazis, a brutal prison warden, and a gender-traversing figure who seeks to save their own skin by shapeshifting.

Booker panel chair Natasha Brown has great praise for the shortlist, saying: “With narratives that capture moments from across the past century, these books reverberate with history. While there’s heartbreak, brutality and isolation among these stories, their lasting effect is energising.”

Here, our six literary experts guide you through the nominations for 2026.

Taiwan Travelogue by Yáng Shuāng-zǐ, translated by Lin King

Set in 1930s Taiwan under Japanese colonial rule, this exquisitely layered novel follows Japanese writer Aoyama Chizuko and her Taiwanese interpreter Ông Tshian-ho’h through a culinary and emotional landscape seeded with deliberate breadcrumbs: details that only reveal their full significance upon return visits to the book.

Taiwan Travelogue’s meta-fictional architecture is quietly audacious. Yang frames the narrative through a fictional author, a fictional translator and their respective silences, making the unreliable narrator not merely a device but a structural argument about whose knowledge counts and whose remains obstructed.

What makes the book genuinely pleasurable, however, is its treatment of intimacy between the two women. The queer undertow is rendered through the minute economies of shared meals and unfinished sentences, through which Yang smuggles the most profound questions about desire, friendship and colonial entitlement into the everyday.

Eva Cheuk Yin Li, lecturer in culture, media and creative industries

She Who Remains by Rene Karabash, translated by Izidora Angel

She Who Remains feverishly journeys through a centuries-old transgenerational wound that has reached its boiling point: a final reckoning between silence and testimony, tradition and change, truth and lies, living and dying.

A trans story narrated from an unspeakable place, the novel centres on Bekija, a 33-year-old gender-traversing member of a disappearing Albanian community ruled by the violent laws of the Kanun of Lekë Dukagjini.

In a place where women are a commodity and the only path to freedom is the willingness to kill and die, Bekija absconds their fate of a forced marriage as the last “sworn virgin” under the Kanun, socially transitioning from female to male.

A novel saturated with poetic intensity, captured stunningly by Izidora Angel’s translation, She Who Remains is a dervish dance of a dream. Timelines perpetually split, survival is not a promise, and gender outlaws face the impossible choice to break the cycle of centuries-old violence or perish in a gust of ash.

Boriana Alexandrova, senior lecturer in women’s and gender studies

The Witch by Marie NDiaye, translated by Jordan Stump

The Witch is an ambiguous, puzzling novella about Lucie, a minimally gifted witch. As she passes on her magic to her daughters, readers might expect a story of feminist empowerment. But instead, the family Lucie thought she knew flies away from her, and her own powers fail her when her husband leaves and her parents separate. The Witch tells the story of her response to this disintegration.

The novel shares its name with a famous 1862 French history of the witchcraze by Jules Michelet. But instead of Michelet’s potent witches defying medieval patriarchy, Lucie lives in a drab, modern world of fracture and disenchantment. That makes Ndiaye’s tale more realistic than magical.

If witchcraft is a metaphor for women’s power, then as a daughter, wife and mother, Lucie’s story is one of missed opportunities and pensive struggle. A weird but interesting read.

Marion Gibson, emerita professor of renaissance and magical literatures

On Earth As It Is Beneath by Ana Paula Maia, translated by Padma Viswanathan

In a remote, forgotten Brazilian penal colony built on historical violence, a sadistic warden initiates a monthly fatal hunt of inmates during the prison’s final days.

It’s impossible to read On Earth As It Is Beneath without thinking of Kafka’s In the Penal Colony – not only because of the setting but also the distressing feeling that envelops the reader, almost making them a character in this brutal narrative.

Maia manages to capture the absurdity and violence of a concentration camp environment. The dynamic between calm and horror is particularly crucial. There are few prisoners, watched over by only one guard. However, what makes this prison inescapable is the dehumanisation of everyone – prisoners, the guard, the prison director. One way or another, all are forgotten by society, as if dead.

Without question, this is a novel that reminds us how much dehumanisation happens “on earth as it is beneath”.

Vinicius De Carvalho, reader in Brazilian and Latin American studies

The Nights Are Quiet In Tehran by Shida Bazyar, translated by Ruth Martin

A moving, quietly powerful novel about one family’s experience of revolution, exile, memory and the enduring persistence of hope, The Nights Are Quiet In Tehran begins after the 1979 Iranian revolution and moves across four decades to 2009, and a life rebuilt in Germany.

Four sections are narrated at ten-year intervals in the first person. The novel opens in 1979 with Behzad, the left-leaning activist father in Iran, then moves to Germany through Nahid, the literature-obsessed mother who is the family’s emotional anchor. The third section follows Laleh, the firstborn daughter, on an awakening family visit to Iran in 1999. The fourth centres on 2009, when son Mo is detached from politics until Iran’s Green Movement erupts onto global TV.

This structure gives the book the feeling of a family album: intimate, incomplete and quietly charged with history, the shifting voices allowing each generation to speak from its own wound. Ruth Martin’s translation reads with clarity and gentle elegance, preserving the novel’s shifts in voice and emotional nuance.

Narguess Farzad, senior lecturer in Persian studies

The Director by Daniel Kehlmann, translated by Ross Benjamin

A cleverly constructed historical novel from one of the most acclaimed contemporary German writers, The Director follows W.G. Pabst as he returns to Nazi Germany after an unsuccessful stint in Hollywood. Once a doyen of Weimar cinema, he is now expected to make films bolstering the nation’s wartime morale.

The German title, Lichtspiel, is an early term for the medium of film – literally, “play of light”. What wilful illusions did the likes of Pabst conjure up to persuade themselves that their art could and should continue under Nazism? Daniel Kehlmann searches for an answer in characteristic gripping narrative style, here with an added cinematic flair.

Ross Benjamin’s translation masterfully differentiates between the novel’s many voices, including Pabst’s wife, son and assistant, whose confused, half-repressed memories of work on his final wartime film frame the novel.

Karolina Watroba, lecturer in German studies


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, The Conversation UK may earn a commission.


The Conversation

Boriana Alexandrova receives funding from UKRI and Horizon Europe.

Eva Cheuk-Yin Li, Karolina Watroba, Marion Gibson, Narguess Farzad, and Vinicius de Carvalho do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. International Booker Prize 2026: heartbreak, brutality, shapeshifting – six experts review the nominees – https://theconversation.com/international-booker-prize-2026-heartbreak-brutality-shapeshifting-six-experts-review-the-nominees-281179

The mental toll of quarantine on board a cruise ship – explained by a psychologist

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Jilly Gibson-Miller, Senior Lecturer in Psychology, University of Sheffield

Mystic Stock Photography/Shutterstock

The MV Hondius left Ushuaia, Argentina, on April 1. Within days, one passenger had become ill. Within weeks, the voyage had become the focus of an international health response after cases of Andes virus, a type of hantavirus, were identified among passengers and crew. By early May, several people had died. Passengers and crew have since left the ship, but many are now facing quarantine and monitoring elsewhere, along with intense public scrutiny.

For those affected, the threat is not only medical. It is psychological too. Quarantine asks people to live with a difficult combination of fear, uncertainty and loss of control. Research tells us that our ability to tolerate uncertainty is broadly related to our levels of distress, so the uncertainty surrounding Andes virus could influence how worried people feel about their health and safety.

Hantaviruses are a family of viruses usually spread to humans through contact with infected rodents or their urine, droppings or saliva. Andes virus is unusual because limited person-to-person transmission has also been recorded. For passengers and crew, this means living with a threat that is serious, unfamiliar and difficult to judge. They are also doing so under the watchful eye of the world’s media, at the centre of an international emergency medical response, while facing unplanned isolation away from home. This is a particular kind of psychological strain.

A similar incident occurred during the COVID-19 pandemic, when the Diamond Princess cruise ship was quarantined for several weeks. During that time, passengers experienced fear of infection, hypervigilance – being constantly on alert, scanning the body or the environment for signs of danger – about their physical symptoms and difficulty sleeping. These are all common features of anxiety.




Read more:
Coronavirus self-isolation: a psychologist explains how to avoid cabin fever


Outbreak guidance often asks people to keep their distance, isolate, ventilate shared spaces, wear masks and wash their hands to reduce the risk of transmission. However, social isolation brings psychological costs. People who are isolated in quarantine facilities, hotels, hospitals or other controlled settings may be more likely to experience low mood, anxiety and disturbed sleep, especially if they cannot go outside or maintain ordinary contact with others.

Over the longer term, many people recover well after quarantine. Recovery is helped by clear communication, trust and contact with others. During an outbreak, accurate and consistent information matters, and honestly acknowledging what is not yet known can build trust more effectively than false reassurance. Informal support networks, including WhatsApp groups, video calls or shared daily routines, may also help protect people psychologically.

The common-sense model of self-regulation could help explain what passengers might be thinking and feeling, and how they might cope. This model suggests that when people face illness, they try to make sense of two things at once: what the illness means to them and what emotions they experience. These perceptions will determine which coping strategies will be used to manage the illness.

For example, when control is taken out of people’s hands and they believe the consequences of infection could be serious, distress and panic are more likely. A passenger may think: “I have been exposed; I could become ill; I could die.” Thoughts like these can intensify emotional reactions and increase the perception of danger, creating a cycle of fear and the use of unhelpful coping strategies such as symptom checking, rumination, anger or withdrawal.

This is where clear information and psychological support can help. Passengers can be supported to build an accurate understanding of the virus based on reliable medical information. This can help them develop realistic action plans and adopt positive problem-based coping strategies, such as following testing guidance, isolating when necessary, seeking medical help if symptoms emerge, and staying connected with others where possible.

The World Health Organization has made clear that this is not the start of a pandemic similar to COVID-19. The wider public health risk is assessed as low. However, for passengers and crew, the risk assessment is different, which is why monitoring and quarantine measures have been recommended.

As passengers continue with up to six weeks of monitoring or quarantine after leaving the ship, the psychological strain may continue too. The incubation period is the time between exposure to a virus and the appearance of symptoms. Because Andes virus can have an extended incubation period, symptoms may not emerge immediately. This means passengers may remain in a heightened state of bodily alert for several weeks, prolonging stress and exhaustion.

Some passengers may need follow-up care as they return to normal life after a highly controlled and stressful experience, especially if they have witnessed severe illness or are grieving. As the public receives confirmation of further cases among passengers, there is a chance that they may be stigmatised or treated by others as contagious. This carries two risks. First, passengers may be socially excluded by their communities, which could affect relationships or work. Second, they may experience guilt or grief if they fear they have unwittingly exposed others to the virus.

Managing uncertainty

Psychological research shows that people vary widely in how they respond to the same event. It is entirely normal to experience stress in response to uncertainty, isolation and fear. For many people, recovery is likely. But some will need ongoing support during and after quarantine.

In practical terms, people in quarantine need meaningful social contact, even if that contact is virtual. Simple coping strategies can help: maintaining a predictable daily routine, protecting sleep, eating healthily, taking exercise where possible, and using grounding techniques to calm the nervous system. Breathing exercises, meditation, having a shower or making a cup of tea may sound small, but small acts of routine and control can matter when so much else feels uncertain.

An experience like this really matters. Deaths, quarantine, media scrutiny and the fear of infection are not psychologically trivial. But recovery is also shaped by what happens around it: whether people receive clear information, whether they remain connected to others, whether their distress is normalised and whether support continues after quarantine ends. Uncertainty cannot be removed entirely; it is how we manage it that protects us from a fear of the unknown taking hold.

The Conversation

Jilly Gibson-Miller receives funding from ESRC, Triumph and UK Research and Innovation funds.

ref. The mental toll of quarantine on board a cruise ship – explained by a psychologist – https://theconversation.com/the-mental-toll-of-quarantine-on-board-a-cruise-ship-explained-by-a-psychologist-282522

Why was an Egyptian mummy stuffed with a fragment of Homer’s Iliad?

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Stephan Blum, Research Associate, Institute for Prehistory and Early History and Medieval Archaeology, University of Tübingen

Achilles Lamenting the Death of Patroclus by Gavin Hamilton (1760-1763). National Galleries of Scotland Collection

Archaeologists have found something unexpected inside a 1,600-year-old Roman-era Egyptian mummy: a fragment of Homer’s Iliad. It wasn’t placed beside the body, but inside the mummy’s abdomen. But the real surprise isn’t just where the fragment was found. It’s how it got there. To understand, we must go back – to the Iliad itself, and to what it became in the Roman world.

In The Iliad, a poem shaped in the 8th century BC and attributed to Homer, the Trojan war does not end in triumph or renewal. It ends in devastation. The poem closes at the edge of collapse, with Troy reduced to a landscape of heroic ruin. And yet, this is not where the story ends.

According to later Roman tradition, one Trojan escaped. Aeneas – son of Anchises and the goddess Aphrodite – fled the burning city carrying his father on his shoulders and the household gods in his hands. He moved west, across the Mediterranean, towards Italy, where he became the ancestor of Rome.

This continuation did not come from the Iliad itself. It was shaped centuries later, most famously in Virgil’s Aeneid. But it changed the meaning of the Trojan war entirely. The past, in other words, was actively reorganised – through stories that could be reworked, extended and connected across time and space.

Painting by Pompeo Batoni (1753), depicting Aeneas fleeing the burning city of Troy with his father Anchises and the household gods, as the fall of Troy is recast as the beginning of a journey toward the foundation of Rome.
Painting by Pompeo Batoni (1753), depicting Aeneas fleeing the burning city of Troy with his father Anchises and the household gods, as the fall of Troy is recast as the beginning of a journey toward the foundation of Rome.
Galleria Sabauda

Turning defeat into origin

For Roman audiences, the Trojan war was more than a distant Greek legend. It became a way of thinking about origins, identity and power.

Claiming descent from Troy was more than a matter of tracing a lineage. It required constant cultural work – through storytelling, education and shared knowledge. The Iliad provided the raw material: characters, events and genealogies that could be reshaped and redeployed across generations.

Across the Roman Empire, educated elites learned Homer as part of their schooling. They quoted him in speeches, analysed him in classrooms and used him to signal cultural authority. To know the Iliad was to speak a language that others across the empire understood.

A senator in Rome, a teacher in Asia Minor or a student in Egypt could all draw on the same stories. The poem created a shared frame of reference – one that allowed very different people to situate themselves within a common past.

Plan of the late bronze age citadel of Troy
Plan of the late bronze age citadel of Troy (c. 1300–1109BC) shown in red, with Roman-period structures in blue, integrated into the ancient fortification in such a way that the surviving walls functioned as a theatrical backdrop of ‘authentic antiquity’, transforming archaeological depth into a deliberately scenographic experience.
University of Tübingen, CC BY-SA

In the Roman imperial period, the site of ancient Troy – located in modern-day Turkey – became a destination. Emperors invested in its development, tying it directly to Rome’s claimed Trojan origins. Under Emperor Augustus, Troy was folded into the political language of empire. And under Emperor Hadrian, it became part of a wider culture of travel, memory and heritage.

A visitor to Troy in the 2nd century AD would have arrived at a curated landscape. There were baths, places to stay and spaces for performance. A small theatre – the Odeion – was built directly into the ancient citadel, so that the remains of the bronze age city, understood as the setting of the legendary battles around Troy, formed a dramatic backdrop.

Visitors could walk through what was presented as the setting of Homeric epic, experiencing the Trojan war as something anchored in the ground beneath their feet.

From Troy to Egypt

Across the Roman Empire, the Iliad circulated as a living text: copied, taught and read. Egypt, one of Rome’s most important provinces, was no exception. Yet here, Homer circulated within a cultural landscape that differed in important ways from the Greek literary world in which the poem had first taken shape.

For Roman observers, Egypt often appeared as a place where antiquity was materially preserved as well as remembered – through temples, monuments and practices that emphasised continuity with the past. At the same time, it was a deeply hybrid society, where Egyptian, Greek and Roman traditions interacted in complex ways.

Homer was among the most widely copied authors in Roman Egypt – read and taught as a marker of education and cultural belonging and deeply embedded in everyday literary culture.

A small covered Roman theatre
The Odeion of Troy, a small covered theatre inserted into the fabric of the ancient citadel and constructed in the early 2nd century AD, exemplifies the Roman reconfiguration of the site’s urban and cultural landscape.
University of Tübingen, CC BY-SA

The Homeric version of the Trojan War was particularly prominent among the Greek-speaking elite, especially in urban centres such as Oxyrhynchus, where the mummy was found. Other versions of the story – which placed greater emphasis on Paris and Helen’s stay in Egypt, as reported by Herodotus based on accounts from Egyptian priests – were probably more widespread among the broader Egyptian population.

The initial media coverage of the discovery of the fragment inside the Egyptian mummy suggested the text was deliberately chosen to accompany the deceased. As a personally meaningful object, perhaps reflecting their education or cultural identity.

The most telling explanation, however, may be the most straightforward. Discarded or damaged papyri could be reused as inexpensive material. The fragment may therefore have functioned as stuffing – bundled together and inserted into the body cavity without particular regard for its literary content.

The very fact that a scrap of the Iliad could end up as disposable filling, however, speaks to how deeply Homer had penetrated everyday life in Roman Egypt.

A text in motion

To make sense of the past in the Roman world meant moving between story and monument, between genealogy and deep time. Each perspective made the others more intelligible.

The Iliad helped create a world in which different pasts could be connected, compared and reshaped. By linking stories, places and traditions across the Mediterranean, the Roman world turned the past into a flexible resource – one that could generate identity, authority and belonging in shifting contexts.

This is why the Iliad mattered: it circulated across many different settings. It shaped elite education, but it was also part of everyday reading culture. At Troy, it helped transform the city into a place of cultural memory. The text itself also had a long material afterlife, surviving not only as an authoritative story, but through manuscripts and writing materials that were copied, passed on – or even reused for entirely different purposes.

Its most enduring insight is therefore this: the past is not something simply preserved, but something continuously made and remade – through the stories, practices and materials that carry it across time.

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, The Conversation UK may earn a commission.

The Conversation

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

ref. Why was an Egyptian mummy stuffed with a fragment of Homer’s Iliad? – https://theconversation.com/why-was-an-egyptian-mummy-stuffed-with-a-fragment-of-homers-iliad-282190

Beatles museum to open on seven-storey site (and rooftop) of band’s last gig

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Holly Tessler, Senior Lecturer, Music Industries; Programme Leader, MA Beatles, Heritage and Culture, University of Liverpool

The Cavern Club in Liverpool, the nightclub birthplace of the Beatles, promotes itself as “the place where it all began”. On May 11, Apple, the Beatles’ management company, announced its re-acquisition of 3 Savile Row, London, the building they might usefully conceive of as “the place where it all ended”.

In the Beatleverse, 3 Savile Row is perhaps most associated with the Beatles’ iconic yet bittersweet rooftop performance. Iconic because this improvised concert was first captured for posterity in their 1970 film (and album) Let It Be. It was then digitally zhuzhed up for Peter Jackson’s epic retelling, Get Back, in 2021. Bittersweet because that performance on a chilly January day in 1969 was the last time the world ever saw the magic of John, Paul, George and Ringo gigging together. Or in the words of the promotional trailer for Let It Be: “rehearsing, recording, rapping, relaxing, philosophising … creating.”

The Savile Row building was the Beatles’ third London office. They moved there after outgrowing 94 Baker Street, which had previously housed the Apple Boutique in 1967, and following a short-lived stay at 95 Wigmore Street in early 1968.

Purchased for a snip at £500,000 in June of that year, 3 Savile Row became general HQ for all things Beatles. It had a recording studio in the basement, offices for each of the Fab Four and, of course, an impromptu gig space on the roof. Beatles fans, immortalised in George Harrison’s song Apple Scruffs (1970), would gather round the front entrance, hoping for a glimpse, a quick chat or a hug from their favourite Beatle. Yet few would ever have the opportunity to cross that elusive threshold. Until now.

The Beatles perform Don’t Let Me Down during the famous Saville Row performance.

Apple’s new venture heralds seven floors of unseen material from Apple Corps extensive archives, rotating exhibitions, a fan store and the recreation of the original studio where Let it Be was recorded.

It will also give fans the opportunity to tread in the band’s footsteps as they relive the iconic rooftop concert on exactly the spot where it happened. In other words, it promises the rarest of Beatles finds: a genuinely new experience.

The Fab Four in the flesh

As we are so accustomed to seeing in Liverpool, Beatles fans the world over demonstrate a ceaseless fascination with the band’s origin story. In part, this is because no book, film or theatrical production can so tangibly communicate the extraordinary ordinariness of the Beatles’ lives as being there can do: seeing for yourself the sheer magnitude of the improbability of four young Liverpudlians’ journey from two up-two down terraced houses in south Liverpool to the 20th century’s most successful pop group.

In the same way as standing in the front room of the McCartney family home in Forthlin Road, at the gates of Strawberry Field or in the middle of the roundabout in Penny Lane, there is little doubt that clambering onto the roof of 3 Savile Row, gazing across the London skyline and standing in the very steps of John, Paul, George and Ringo will foster in Beatles people a kind of indescribable wonder: making the imagined real and the real imagined.

With the re-acquisition of 3 Savile Road back into the Beatles’ property portfolio, Apple has made a genius move. The museum will connect the flesh and blood, bricks and mortar world of the 1960s Beatles to the social media and big screen worlds of the post-60s Beatles. And theirs is undeniably a big story to tell. It took Peter Jackson nearly eight hours of documentary time. Sam Mendes requires four feature-length films. And coming soon to a rooftop near you: the chance to experience all the Beatle magic for yourself.

The Conversation

Holly Tessler 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. Beatles museum to open on seven-storey site (and rooftop) of band’s last gig – https://theconversation.com/beatles-museum-to-open-on-seven-storey-site-and-rooftop-of-bands-last-gig-282756

Hacking the bomb? What Claude Mythos AI reveals about the gamble of nuclear deterrence

Source: The Conversation – France – By Thomas Fraise, Postdoctoral research fellow, University of Copenhagen; Sciences Po

Frontier AI-first cybersecurity platforms like OpenAI’s “Daybreak” and Anthropic’s newest Claude “Mythos” model are at the forefront of artificial intelligence but their advanced capabilities in offensive cybersecurity are a source of both fascination and concern.

Gguy/Shutterstock

In 1983, the film WarGames imagined a teenager who accidentally accessed a Pentagon computer system and triggered a simulation program, subsequently interpreted as the prelude to a nuclear war. The film made such an impression on Ronald Reagan that he asked his advisers whether such an intrusion into America’s most sensitive systems was possible. A week later, the answer came: “Mr. President, the problem is far worse than you think.”

Nuclear weapons policies are based on a series of bets, often far-reaching, on the future of nuclear deterrence. First, nuclear-armed countries gamble that the fear of retaliation will always be enough to prevent an adversary from striking first, and that they will always have the expertise and luck necessary to prevent accidental explosions. They bet that possessing nuclear weapons will remain a source of security rather than insecurity in decades to come.

However, as my colleagues Sterre van Buuren and Benoît Pelopidas and myself demonstrate, there are several plausible future scenarios in which possessing nuclear weapons will generate more real costs than potential benefits in a world that has warmed by several degrees. Maintaining a credible and safe arsenal will require budgetary choices at the expense of other urgent spending made necessary by the climate crisis.

The universe of existential risks that could justify the use of nuclear weapons may also be expanding. For example, experts worry that water shortages in Pakistan and India could become fertile ground for a conflict leading to nuclear escalation.

But there is another, more implicit bet involved here: that nuclear arsenals, which are complex, highly digitalised technological systems, offer no cyber vulnerabilities that could be exploited by an actor seeking to disrupt their normal functioning.

The recent breakthrough of Anthropic’s latest AI model Claude Mythos reveals just how much the conditions of that bet could change in the long term.

Mythos and the future of cybersecurity

“Mythos” was launched on April 7 2026 by the public benefit corporation Anthropic – which markets the Claude series of large language models (LLMs). This model, which has not been commercially released but made available to a restricted working group composed of around a dozen major American tech giants (Google, Microsoft, Apple, NVIDIA, Amazon Web Services, etc.), reportedly achieves an unprecedented success rate in detecting vulnerabilities in computer systems.

Mythos reportedly succeeded in detecting “zero-day” vulnerabilities in various web browsers, software, and operating systems with an impressive success rate.

A “zero-day” vulnerability is a critical security flaw in an information system for which no protection yet exists, making attacks possible with effectively “zero days” available to respond. According to Anthropic, Mythos managed to develop methods for exploiting these vulnerabilities in record time – likely in less than a day – with a success rate of 72.4%.

Although this information comes from the company itself – which has every incentive to exaggerate its results – some public evidence has been provided.

Sylvestre Ledru, Mozilla’s engineering director responsible for the Firefox browser, stated that Mythos helped uncover an “absolutely staggering” number of vulnerabilities in their software. For example, a nearly twenty-seven-year-old security flaw which had survived numerous audits was discovered in an open-source operating system widely used by cybersecurity services, OpenBSD.

Mythos sheds light on a larger phenomenon: that the increase in offensive capabilities – not only among states but also private actors such as cybercriminals – in the cyberspace could be accelerated by AI development, while uncertainty is emerging about whether defensive actors can react quickly enough to patch existing vulnerabilities.

Even if Mythos does not fully live up to the announced performance levels, the development of LLMs since the early 2020s has shown how rapidly their capabilities improve. We are therefore facing an acceleration in the development of offensive capabilities and their diffusion to a broader range of actors. This means a potentially rising probability of successful cyberattacks, as well as an increase in their absolute number.

The vulnerability of nuclear arsenals

To understand the vulnerability of nuclear weapons to cyberattacks, one must remember that a “nuclear arsenal” means far more than a stockpile of warheads. The normal operation of modern nuclear arsenals depends on a vast configuration of technologies: nuclear warheads, the missiles capable of delivering them, communication technologies ensuring that orders are transmitted from the President to the operator responsible for launching the weapons, as well as early warning systems designed to monitor the skies for signs of a potential enemy nuclear strike. These elements must communicate with one another to ensure control over the weapons.

And there are more of those than one might think. As Herbert Lin, a Stanford University researcher and author of a study on cyber threats and nuclear weapons, notes, the “nuclear button” metaphor is oversimplified: once the president presses it, a whole series of “cyber-buttons” must also be pressed to trigger and manage nuclear operations – each representing another point where cyberattacks could interfere, for example by preventing critical information from arriving.

The President might not receive enough information – or any at all – to determine that an attack is underway. Or he might be unable to communicate launch orders to submarine forces. Worse still, the nightmare scenario imagined since the 1950s could occur: a false launch order could be transmitted to missile operators.

The scenarios do not even need to be that extreme: the order might be transmitted with delays, or not transmitted to all forces, resulting in weaker retaliation than intended. The retaliation itself might be blocked: in 2010, an American command center lost communication with around fifty nuclear missiles for nearly an hour. An adversary could exploit such weaknesses.

Alternatively, a large-scale cyberattack carried out by non-state actors could create the impression that an adversary is targeting our nuclear arsenal, creating a risk of inadvertent escalation. Similarly, an attack on command-and-control systems related to conventional operations could be interpreted as endangering a state’s nuclear arsenal if those systems happened to be integrated.

One can also imagine cyber operations targeting the weapons themselves – the hardware rather than the software of the arsenal. Of course, nuclear security actors are not simply waiting for attacks to happen. They continuously develop and test defensive capabilities. The problem is that the complexity of existing systems makes it impossible to state with certainty that no vulnerabilities exist.

As James Gosler, formerly in charge of the security of American nuclear systems at Sandia National Laboratories, explains, beginning in the 1980s, the exponential increase in the complexity of components inside nuclear weapons meant that:

“you could no longer make the statement that any of these micro-controlled systems [used to ensure the functioning of the detonation mechanism] were vulnerability-free.”

That does not mean vulnerabilities necessarily exist. But it does mean that no actor can know for certain whether they do. So, should we fear that nuclear arsenals could one day be “hacked”?

In truth, we do not know. Such scenarios are possible: no large, complex information system can be guaranteed with total certainty to be completely reliable. The evolution of cyberattack tools, and their potential diffusion among a wide range of state and non-state actors, makes this kind of future scenario potentially more likely and, in any case, plausible.

A new bet on the future

Mythos highlights a new dimension to the nuclear gamble, born from the development of new technologies and their integration into nuclear arsenals.

First, we are betting on the absence of vulnerabilities within these systems – even though it is impossible to measure that probability with certainty. It changes over time as systems are updated, replaced, and connected to others. If vulnerabilities nevertheless exist, we then bet that advances in offensive cyber capabilities will always be matched, and matched in time, by advances in defensive capabilities – even in the age of artificial intelligence. Once again, that probability cannot be determined, because defensive capability development is often reactive: it depends on our knowledge of offensive capabilities and existing vulnerabilities, both of which are inherently uncertain.

We are therefore betting that our defences against cyberattacks – and those of other nuclear-armed states – will be enough. Otherwise, we are betting that luck will remain on our side and that existing vulnerabilities will not be discovered – like the one that existed for 27 years in OpenBSD’s code. It is a gamble on luck because, in this scenario, what saves us is the adversary’s inability or unwillingness, over which we have no control, to develop effective capabilities.

The ability of existing control practices to fulfil their role has become more uncertain with the arrival of large AI models capable of detecting vulnerabilities and designing cyberattacks on a massive and automated scale. Choosing a security policy based on nuclear weapons therefore amounts to betting that, in the future just as in the past, luck will always remain on our side.

The Conversation

This work has been supported by the European Research Council Consolidator Grant no. 101043468, RITUAL DETERRENCE. Views and opinions expressed are, however, those of the author only and do not necessarily reflect those of the European Union or the European Research Council.

ref. Hacking the bomb? What Claude Mythos AI reveals about the gamble of nuclear deterrence – https://theconversation.com/hacking-the-bomb-what-claude-mythos-ai-reveals-about-the-gamble-of-nuclear-deterrence-282614

Comment les sols-ils sont devenus un enjeu climatique ? Le regard de la sociologie

Source: The Conversation – France (in French) – By Céline Granjou, directrice de recherches, Inrae

Longtemps pensés uniquement à l’aune de leur fertilité, les sols sont aujourd’hui redécouverts pour leur statut de puits de carbone. Autrement dit, leur capacité à séquestrer le carbone en fait des contributeurs de premier plan à la lutte contre le changement climatique. Une étude sociologique menée auprès de scientifiques, politiques et acteurs publics territoriaux met en évidence cette redéfinition climatique des sols et ses conséquences concrètes.


Si le rôle climatique des forêts comme puits de carbone est connu depuis les années 1990, celui des sols l’est moins. Ces derniers contiennent pourtant trois fois plus de carbone et jouent un rôle clef dans son cycle global. Lors de la COP21 à Paris en 2015, le gouvernement français avait lancé l’initiative 4 pour 1000 afin d’encourager les agricultrices et agriculteurs à séquestrer du carbone dans les sols.

En augmentant les stocks de carbone des sols, la démarche visait à compenser les émissions fossiles tout en améliorant la qualité des sols. Mais la capacité des sols à séquestrer du carbone requiert l’adoption de pratiques agricoles spécifiques : implantation de couverts végétaux, réduction du labour, plantation de haies ou d’arbres, ou encore restitution à la terre des résidus de cultures comme les pailles. La préservation des zones humides, des forêts et des prairies, dont les sols sont particulièrement riches en carbone, contribue aussi à atténuer le changement climatique.

Comment ces diverses pratiques de séquestration du carbone modifient-elles les conceptions des sols ? L’équipe du projet ANR Posca a mené une vaste enquête sociologique pour répondre à cette question. À la clé, plus de 250 entretiens approfondis avec des scientifiques, des décideurs publics, des agents de collectivités territoriales et des acteurs agricoles.

Cette enquête montre que l’essor des pratiques de séquestration s’accompagne d’une redéfinition climatique des sols. Longtemps considérés principalement sous l’angle de la fertilité agricole, les sols sont désormais également vus comme des puits de carbone. Et cela, dans une large gamme de mondes sociaux : la recherche scientifique, mais également les politiques agricoles nationales et les territoires.




À lire aussi :
Piéger le carbone dans le sol : ce que peut l’agriculture


Des recherches pour penser les sols à l’aune du climat

Il y a plusieurs décennies que les scientifiques travaillent sur le carbone des sols, souvent appréhendé en termes de matière organique ou d’humus. Ce carbone est en effet essentiel dans la fertilité des sols. Mais depuis le début des années 1990, une partie de leurs recherches se focalise désormais sur la description et la modélisation du rôle que joue le carbone des sols dans le changement climatique.

Les chercheurs ont notamment adapté leurs questions de recherche afin d’interroger les processus qui permettent de stabiliser le carbone dans les sols. Cela a permis de faire évoluer les modèles représentant ces mécanismes, dans le but de contribuer à améliorer les scénarios climatiques. Ils ont également créé de nouvelles infrastructures de surveillance des stocks de carbone dans les sols à l’échelle nationale, et noué de nouvelles collaborations avec les sciences du climat.

Les enjeux climatiques ont par ailleurs conduit les scientifiques des sols à produire de nouveaux travaux d’expertise, à la fois dans le cadre du Groupe d’experts intergouvernemental sur l’évolution du climat (GIEC) à l’échelle internationale, mais aussi à l’échelle nationale, pour estimer le potentiel de stockage du carbone dans les sols. Ces réorientations de leurs travaux permettent de fournir des éléments d’appui aux politiques publiques et aux développements économiques liés à la séquestration du carbone.

Les chercheuses et chercheurs ont ainsi transformé leurs agendas et pratiques de recherche pour produire des connaissances qu’ils estiment utiles à la lutte contre le changement climatique. Mais cela n’a pas été sans créer de nouvelles tensions au sein de cette discipline, notamment autour de la question de la non-permanence du carbone dans les sols.

Des crédits carbone pour les sols agricoles qui stockent

De nouvelles conceptions climatiques des sols sont également véhiculées par l’initiative du 4 pour 1000, depuis sa publication fin 2015 par le ministère de l’Agriculture. Cette initiative tire son nom du calcul selon lequel augmenter tous les ans d’environ 0,4 % le stock global de carbone contenu dans les sols permettrait de compenser l’augmentation annuelle des émissions de gaz à effet de serre.

Plus récemment, une étude coordonnée par Inrae a permis de préciser le potentiel de séquestration des sols nationaux. Celui-ci équivaut à environ 40 % des émissions de gaz à effet de serre du secteur agricole en France – soit 6,5 % du total des émissions nationales. Certes, c’est loin de pouvoir compenser l’ensemble des émissions nationales de gaz à effet de serre, mais cela reste une contribution bienvenue à l’effort d’atténuation, que le gouvernement souhaite encourager.

Cette promesse de séquestration est d’autant plus mise en avant aujourd’hui qu’elle permet de repositionner le secteur agricole comme solution au changement climatique, dans une période où celui-ci est fortement critiqué – quand bien même le secteur reste émetteur net de gaz à effet de serre.

Le gouvernement français a ainsi lancé son label bas carbone (LBC) fin 2018. Cadre de certification des réductions d’émissions et des pratiques séquestrantes, il vise, entre autres, à rétribuer les efforts des agriculteurs qui adoptent de nouvelles pratiques vertueuses. Il permet notamment d’attester du nombre de tonnes de carbone séquestrées, pour que les agriculteurs puissent vendre les crédits carbone correspondant à des entreprises ou des collectivités. Le principe est celui du marché carbone : ces acheteurs pourront, à leur tour, alléguer d’une contribution à l’effort d’atténuation du changement climatique.

Le label bas carbone contribue à véhiculer une vision des sols agricoles comme puits de carbone optimisables grâce aux changements de pratiques agricoles. Pour autant, son impact reste actuellement limité, car les projets qui en relèvent mobilisent finalement très peu la séquestration du carbone, mais plutôt des pratiques de réduction des émissions.

Des collectivités qui quantifient le carbone dans leurs sols

Depuis 2016, une nouvelle législation exige par ailleurs que les collectivités de plus de 20 000 habitants évaluent le potentiel de séquestration de carbone par les forêts et les sols. Elles doivent ainsi concevoir un plan climat air énergie territorial (PCAET) qui mesure, entre autres, la quantité de carbone contenu dans les sols et détaille des stratégies possibles pour augmenter ces stocks. La réglementation reste cependant muette sur les moyens et les outils utiles pour quantifier et gérer les stocks de carbone des sols.

Dans ce contexte, les collectivités territoriales mobilisent divers instruments de quantification du carbone des sols. Les analyses de terre étant longues et coûteuses à mettre en œuvre, ces outils reposent généralement sur des données et des modèles numériques qui prédisent l’évolution des stocks de carbone en fonction de différents scénarios de gestion.

L’Ademe a par exemple développé l’outil Aldo, qui permet aux fonctionnaires territoriaux et aux bureaux d’études d’obtenir aisément des valeurs de stocks de carbone.

Agro-Transfert, un organisme de recherche et développement agricole, a également créé l’outil Simeos-AMG. Initialement pensé pour aider les agriculteurs à conserver des sols fertiles et riches en matière organique, il est désormais mobilisé par les professionnels agricoles pour connaître l’impact carbone de leurs pratiques, ainsi que par certaines administrations territoriales pour concevoir leur plan climat air énergie territorial. Le carbone des sols devient ainsi un nouvel objet d’action publique dans les territoires.

Vers une redéfinition climatique des sols

Notre recherche a ainsi mis en lumière la façon dont les sols se trouvent redéfinis à l’aune des enjeux climatiques, que ce soit dans les mondes de la recherche scientifique, des politiques agricoles nationales ou des territoires. Nos résultats montrent que cette climatisation des sols se traduit d’ores et déjà concrètement par de nouvelles pratiques, des engagements et des instruments inédits qui se développent.

Les sols ne sont par ailleurs pas réduits au rôle de simples réservoirs de carbone à optimiser. L’enquête révèle que nombre d’acteurs, en particulier scientifiques, rappellent que ce carbone à séquestrer peut être relargué dans l’atmosphère, notamment si les pratiques agricoles de séquestration ne sont pas maintenues sur le long terme.

De ce fait, il est crucial d’inscrire ces changements dans le long terme. Et cela d’autant plus que ces pratiques sont aussi alignées avec des gains en termes de fertilité et de qualité des sols, les principales préoccupations dont ils faisaient jusqu’ici l’objet. La redéfinition climatique des sols relie ainsi les questions d’atténuation climatique avec les questions de maintien de la fertilité agricole et de conservation de la qualité des sols.

The Conversation

Céline Granjou a reçu des financements de l’Agence Nationale de la Recherche pour le projet ANR-20-CE26-0016

Antoine Doré a reçu des financements de l’Agence Nationale de la Recherche.

Hélène Guillemot a reçu des financements de l’ANR pour le projet POSCA.

Laure Manach a reçu des financements de l’Agence nationale de la recherche et de la Fondation TTI.5.

Léo Magnin a reçu des financements de Agence Nationale de la Recherche (ANR) dans le cadre du projet POSCA.

Robin Leclerc a reçu des financements de l’ANR

Stéphanie Barral a reçu des financements de l’Agence Nationale de la Recherche.

ref. Comment les sols-ils sont devenus un enjeu climatique ? Le regard de la sociologie – https://theconversation.com/comment-les-sols-ils-sont-devenus-un-enjeu-climatique-le-regard-de-la-sociologie-281474

Suspending federal gas tax wouldn’t save drivers as much as they might hope – here’s what goes into the price of a gallon of gas

Source: The Conversation – USA (2) – By Robert I. Harris, Assistant Professor of Economics, Georgia Institute of Technology

Gas taxes – federal and state – make up only a small piece of the price of a gallon of gas. AP Photo/Jenny Kane

With gasoline prices still high – averaging over US$4.50 a gallon in mid-May 2026 – President Donald Trump said he wanted Congress to suspend the federal gas tax, which is 18.4 cents a gallon for gasoline and 24.3 cents a gallon for diesel. A bill has been introduced in the Senate, and one is expected to follow in the House, according to Politico, but their fate is unclear.

States also charge their own taxes, ranging from 70.9 cents a gallon for gas in California to 8.95 cents in Alaska. Indiana, Georgia and Utah have suspended their gas taxes for at least some of 2026, and other states are considering similar measures.

As an energy economist, I have seen how suspending those taxes does reduce prices, but not as much as politicians – or drivers – might hope. Research on past gas tax holidays has found that consumers get about 79% of the reduction in gas taxes. That means oil companies and fuel retailers keep about one-fifth of the tax cut for themselves rather than passing that savings to the public.

Suspending the federal gas tax, which would require Congress to pass a law, wouldn’t help consumers much anyway. Even if oil companies passed on the whole savings to consumers, national average gas and diesel prices would drop only about 4%. The percentage reduction in high-cost states such as California would be even smaller.

Gas taxes are just one part of what drives gas prices. Overall, the price of a retail gallon of gas is the sum of four things: the cost of crude oil, refining, distribution and marketing, and taxes.

In nationwide figures from January 2026, crude oil accounted for about 51% of the pump price, refining roughly 20%, distribution and marketing about 11% and taxes about 18%. That mix shifts with conditions: When crude oil prices spike, that can drive more than 60% of the price; when the price drops, taxes and logistics are larger shares of the cost.

Crude oil is the biggest ingredient

Because the price of crude oil is the largest element, most of the price at the pump is derived from the global oil market.

Usually, big swings in crude prices come mainly from shifts in global demand and expectations – not from supply disruptions, according to widely cited research in 2009 by the economist Lutz Kilian.

But what is happening in early 2026 with the war in Iran is one of the exceptions: a classic supply shock. Severe disruptions to shipping through the Strait of Hormuz and attacks on Middle East oil infrastructure have taken millions of barrels a day off the global market.

Most drivers generally can’t quickly reduce how much they drive or how much gas they use when prices rise, so gasoline demand doesn’t change much in the short run. That means a jump in crude costs tends to result in people paying more rather than driving less.

Refining, regulations and the California puzzle

Refining turns crude into gasoline at industrial scale. The U.S. doesn’t have a single gasoline market, though. Roughly a quarter of U.S. gasoline is a cleaner-burning blend of petroleum-derived chemicals called “reformulated gasoline,” which is required in urban areas across 17 states and the District of Columbia to reduce smog.

California uses an even stricter formulation that few out-of-state refineries make. California is also geographically isolated: No pipelines bring gasoline in from other U.S. refining regions.

California’s gasoline prices have long run above the national average, explained in part by higher state taxes and stricter environmental rules. But since a refinery fire in Torrance, California, in 2015 reduced production capacity, the state’s prices have been about 20 to 30 cents a gallon higher than what those factors would indicate.

Energy economist and University of California, Berkeley, professor Severin Borenstein has called this the “mystery gasoline surcharge” and attributes it to the fact that there isn’t as much competition between refineries or gas stations in California as in other states. California’s own Division of Petroleum Market Oversight says the surcharge cost the state’s drivers about $59 billion from 2015 to 2024. It’s not exactly clear who is getting that money, but it could be gas stations themselves or refineries, through complex contracts with gas stations.

A person stands near a long metal truck in front of a gas station.
A tanker truck delivers fuel to a gas station.
AP Photo/Erin Hooley

Getting the gas into your car

The distribution and marketing category covers the costs of everything involved in getting the gasoline from the refinery gate to your tank.

Gasoline moves by pipeline, ship, rail and truck to wholesale terminals, and then by local delivery truck to service stations.

At the retailer’s end, the key factors are station rent and labor, the cost to buy gasoline in bulk to be able to sell it, credit card fees of as much as 6 to 10 cents a gallon at current prices, and franchise fees paid to the national brand, such as Sunoco or ExxonMobil, for permission to put their branding on the gas station.

Most gas station operators net only a few cents per gallon on fuel itself – which is why many gas stations are really convenience stores with pumps out front. Borenstein and some of his collaborators have also documented that retail gas prices rise quickly when wholesale costs climb but fall slowly when wholesale costs drop.

The question of gas tax holidays

Gas tax holidays reduce funding for what the taxes are designed to pay for, typically roads and bridges. That pushes road and bridge upkeep costs onto future drivers and general taxpayers.

There is an additional problem, too: Taxes on gasoline are supposed to charge drivers for some of the costs their driving imposes on everyone else – carbon emissions, local air pollution, congestion and crashes. But Borenstein has found that U.S. fuel tax levels are already far below the true cost to society. Removing the tax on drivers effectively raises the costs for everyone else.

A fisherman holds a pole in the foreground as an oil tanker sails by at sunset
Suspending the Jones Act allows foreign-based oil tankers to sail between U.S. ports.
AP Photo/Eric Gay

The Jones Act: A small number that adds up

The 1920 Jones Act is a federal law that requires cargo moving between U.S. ports to travel on vessels built and registered in the U.S., owned by U.S. citizens, and crewed primarily by U.S. citizens and permanent residents. Of the world’s 7,500 oil tankers, only 54 meet this requirement. Only 43 of these can transport refined fuels such as gasoline.

So, despite significant refining capacity on the Gulf Coast, some U.S. gasoline is exported overseas even as the Northeast imports fuel, in part reflecting the relatively high cost of moving fuel between U.S. ports.

Economists Ryan Kellogg and Rich Sweeney estimate that the law raises East Coast gasoline prices by about a penny and a half per gallon on average, costing drivers roughly $770 million a year. In light of the war’s effect on gas prices, the Trump administration has temporarily suspended the Jones Act requirements – an action more commonly taken when hurricanes knock out Gulf Coast refineries and pipeline networks.

What moves the number

The result of all these factors is that the price that drivers see at the pump mostly reflects the global price of crude, plus a stack of domestic costs, only some of which are inefficient.

Tax holidays give a partial, short-lived rebate. Jones Act waivers trim pennies, though permanent repeal may cause more fundamental changes, such as reduced rail and truck transport of all goods, which could lower costs, emissions and infrastructure damage associated with cargo transportation. Harmonizing fuel blends across states and seasons may lower prices somewhat, but likely at the expense of increased emissions.

Ultimately, the best protection against oil price shocks is a more efficient gas-burning vehicle, or one that doesn’t burn gasoline at all. In the meantime, the best I can offer as an economist is clarity about what that $4.50 actually buys.

This article includes material previously published on May 1, 2026.

The Conversation

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

ref. Suspending federal gas tax wouldn’t save drivers as much as they might hope – here’s what goes into the price of a gallon of gas – https://theconversation.com/suspending-federal-gas-tax-wouldnt-save-drivers-as-much-as-they-might-hope-heres-what-goes-into-the-price-of-a-gallon-of-gas-282702

Is your AI chatbot manipulating you? Subtly reshaping your opinions?

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Richard Lachman, Director, Zone Learning & Professor, Digital Media, Toronto Metropolitan University

A billboard tries to sell you something. So does a used car salesman. But no matter how smooth the pitch, you’re quite aware of the profit motive, and you can walk away at any time.

What if that pitch is invisible, plays to your unique fears and vanities, and is delivered in a voice that sounds like a trusted friend? Generative AI has changed the equation of persuasion entirely: chatbots can now deliver a personalized, adaptive and targeted message, informed by the most intimate details of your life.

Large language models (LLMs) can hyper-target messages by drawing from your social media posts and photos. They can mine hundreds of previous chatbot conversations in which you asked for relationship advice, discussed your parenting fails and shared your health concerns and financial woes. They can also learn from each interaction, refining their manipulation in real time, targeting your unique and individual tastes, preferences and vulnerabilities.

Studies show this kind of personalized content to be 65 per cent more persuasive than messages from humans or from non-personalized AI. It is four times as effective at changing political opinions as advertising. It could be a powerful tool for social change — used for the good, or for nefarious purposes.

This makes one feature especially troubling: Each conversation is private. It is not monitored, never audited and doesn’t happen in the public eye.

This isn’t advertising. It’s something we don’t have words for yet, and we’re living inside it.

Convincing arguments

In my book Digital Wisdom: Searching for Agency in the Age of AI, I explore how large language models introduce a new frontier in persuasion — one where AI systems can draw upon a huge amount of data about the world, language and you to tailor a highly personalized pitch.

Consider how this might work: You’re a nurse. Through your employer’s AI platform, you’ve shared your sleep problems, burnout and the financial stress of a recent divorce. Now the hospital is short-staffed and offering shifts at a reduced rate calculated by software they license.

You ask the AI chatbot whether you should take them. It knows you’re exhausted. It knows you’re behind on bills. It knows exactly which argument could convince you one way or the other. Who is it working for in that moment?

As companies like Meta and IBM explore how AI can hyper-personalize ads for specific audiences, the dividing line between tools that help users find what they genuinely want, and those that manipulate them against their interests, becomes increasingly important.

Friend or stranger?

Let’s look at another example. Imagine the following messages from your favourite AI chatbot or companion:

I noticed your sleep patterns haven’t been great lately, averaging only 5.4 hours, with lots of restless periods. That’s common when dealing with relationship stress. Your partner just went back to work and 76 per cent of couples experience strain during career transitions.

A new sleep medication has shown effectiveness for relationship-linked insomnia. Your insurance would cover it with just a $15 contribution. Would you like me to schedule a telehealth appointment for tomorrow at 2 p.m.? I see you have a break in your schedule.

This might feel great, like advice from a thoughtful friend who knows you well. It might also feel terrifying, as if a manipulative stranger has read your diary.

Given that people are increasingly turning to AI for medical or mental health advice, despite studies showing this advice to be problematic almost 50 per cent of the time, a manipulative stranger could cause real harm.

The danger here isn’t just the precision of the targeting. This content is also impossible to police. What you view can’t be tracked by watchdogs, since you’re the only person who ever sees it.

While governments don’t typically police the content of political ads, beyond transparency about their funding, we often rely on public outcry and the media to expose campaigns that spread falsehoods. If an AI personalizes every message for an individual, there is no trace left behind.

Reshaping our worldview

Perhaps most concerning is that these systems could gradually reshape our worldview over time.

Scholars have long argued that the algorithms used by social networking sites and search engines create filter bubbles, in which we are fed well-crafted text, video and audio content that either reinforces our worldview or exerts influence towards someone else’s.

The text 'Meet your thinking partner' is displayed on a dark computer screen with the Claude logo.
Are AI chatbots like Claude, ChatGPT, Gemini and DeepSeek helping you think, or subtly shaping your thoughts?
(Unsplash)

By controlling what information we see and how it’s presented, AI systems could slowly shift how we think about and interpret the world around us, and even change our understanding of reality itself.

This capability becomes particularly concerning when combined with emotional manipulation. Vendors suggest their AI systems can gauge a user’s emotional state through text analysis, voice patterns or facial expressions, and adjust their persuasive strategies accordingly.

Are you feeling vulnerable? Lonely? Angry? The system could modify its approach to exploit those emotional states. Even more troubling, it could deliberately cultivate certain emotional states to make its persuasion more effective.

Preliminary research shows that AI models tend to flatter users, affirming their users’ actions 50 per cent more than other humans do, even when the actions involve potential harms. Further research shows that chatbots use deliberate emotional manipulation strategies — such as “guilt appeals” and “fear-of-missing-out hooks” — to keep us chatting when we try to say goodbye.

There have also been cases of AI chatbots allegedly endangering users, encouraging suicidal thoughts or giving detailed advice on how a user could harm themselves.

The guardrails set up by corporations to protect users from harm have also proven surprisingly easy to bypass.

Design matters

Persuasion is not a side effect of technology — it’s often the point. Every interface, every notification, every design decision carries with it an intent to influence behaviour.

Sometimes that influence is welcome: reminders to take medication, encouragement to exercise or nudges to donate blood that reinforce values we already hold. But sometimes persuasion serves someone else’s agenda — nudging us to buy, to scroll, to work harder or to give up privacy.

The same persuasive techniques can empower or exploit, depending on who controls the system, what goals they pursue and whether they have meaningful consent.

Design matters. Whether in public health, the workplace or daily life. We must ask hard questions about intent, agency and power. Who benefits from a design? Who is being persuaded and do they know it?

The technologies we build should support reflective choice, not undermine it. As AI continues to shape how we think, feel and act, our ethical obligations grow sharper: to create systems that are transparent, that prioritize user dignity and that reinforce our capacity for independent judgment. We don’t just need innovation — we need wisdom.

The Conversation

Richard Lachman 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. Is your AI chatbot manipulating you? Subtly reshaping your opinions? – https://theconversation.com/is-your-ai-chatbot-manipulating-you-subtly-reshaping-your-opinions-280800