El visionario de la alta costura moderna: el olvidado Paul Poiret

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Ana María Iglesias Botrán, Profesora del Departamento de Filología Francesa en la Facultad de Filosofía y Letras. Doctora especialista en estudios culturales franceses y Análisis del Discurso, Universidad de Valladolid

Ilustración de dos vestidos de Poiret hecha por Paul Iribe para _Les Robes de Paul Poiret_. Wikimedia Commons

Durante décadas en el olvido, Paul Poiret (París, 1879-1944) fue el diseñador de alta costura más importante de los inicios del siglo XX, el primero que realmente cambió la silueta femenina.

Retrato en blanco y negro de un hombre con chaleco blanco, corbata y chaqueta negra.
Retrato de Paul Poiret en 1913.
United States Library of Congress’s Prints and Photographs division

Con su personalidad arrolladora creó un proyecto creativo integral, una empresa próspera que abarcó todas las artes decorativas, y fue pionero en un estilo de negocio que inspiró a muchos diseñadores posteriores.

Además de ropa, fabricó perfumes, publicó libros, decoró barcos, viajó por el mundo, creó una escuela de arte para niñas, se empapó de las vanguardias y fue siempre consciente de estar generando un universo nuevo. Su desbordante creatividad lo llevó finalmente a la ruina y al olvido, pero siempre estuvo orgulloso de su aportación.

Afortunadamente, el Museo de Artes Decorativas en París le dedica en estos meses una exposición cuyo nombre le define: La moda es una fiesta.

Nueva silueta femenina

Liberar el cuerpo de la mujer fue su primer objetivo. Paul Poiret observaba y respetaba la anatomía natural femenina, y lograba que la ropa acompañase el movimiento del cuerpo con ligereza. Creó en sus diseños líneas rectas o curvadas y drapeados estratégicos que conservaban la elegancia y el estilo único de su firma.

En 1906 descartó definitivamente el corsé y diseñó sus creaciones partiendo del sujetador, un acto pionero de modernidad vigente hasta hoy. Diseñó la falda-pantalón, caftanes, kimonos y turbantes y también innovó al ser el primero en presentar a sus modelos con el pelo corto.

Este estilo novedoso y adelantado por su comodidad se puso de moda y causó furor entre las mujeres de la alta sociedad, las cocottes y las artistas más relevantes.

Diseños de Paul Poiret exhibidos en la exposición del Museo de Artes Decorativas de París.
Diseños de Paul Poiret exhibidos en la exposición del Museo de Artes Decorativas de París.
Musée des Arts Décoratifs

Investigación y desarrollo

Pretendía crear una nueva estética, un lenguaje visual insólito. Por eso contrató a un químico para fabricar en su propio laboratorio nuevos tintes, investigando combinaciones armoniosas e innovadoras.

Para el diseño de los estampados, fundó en 1911 el Atelier Martine, un lugar de formación gratuita para jóvenes con talento artístico y pocos recursos. Allí, las niñas dibujaban libremente inspiradas en la naturaleza, sin intervención externa ni normas académicas.

Poiret transformaba estos dibujos de flores, alcachofas y margaritas en elementos decorativos que aplicaba tanto a tejidos de ropa como a cortinas, cojines y alfombras y otros objetos del hogar.

Primer modisto con perfume

Para él la moda no se limitaba a la ropa, sino a un estilo de vida basado en el arte que debía romper con los gustos de la belle époque e impregnarlo todo. Por eso, fue el primer diseñador en crear una línea de perfumes, ya que consideraba que el aroma también era una muestra del estilo personal.

Diez años antes de que Chanel sacara su mítico “N.º 5” (1921), Paul Poiret ya había fundado la sociedad comercial Les Parfums de Rosine (según el nombre de su hija mayor). Durante una década, fue el único modisto-perfumista de París, hasta que, además de Chanel, la casa Whorth (en 1924) y el diseñador Jean Patou (en 1925) siguieron sus pasos.

Para la creación de dos de sus aromas se inspiró en sus hijas. Otros evocaban el imaginario francés, como “Arlequinade”, el exotismo, como “Aladdin” o “Nuit de Chine” (Noche china), o la sensualidad, como “Fruit défendu”. Eran perfumes intensos, con ingredientes florales y exóticos.

Una vez más, recurrió a artistas para su producción. Todos los frascos eran sorprendentes, novedosos y elegantes, con formas geométricas o florales y tapones ornamentales. Son en sí mismos objetos de lujo y obras maestras pioneras del arte decorativo. Para el perfume “Arlequinade (1923)”, por ejemplo, cuya fragancia había sido creada por el perfumista Henri Alméras, contó con la artista del cubismo Marie Vassilieff para diseñar el frasco y con el escultor en vidrio Julien Viard para fabricarlo.

Hoy en día los perfumes de Poiret se conservan en la Osmothèque de París.

La moda es una fiesta

En su autobiografía Vistiendo la época cuenta que disfrutaba de la vida en todo momento. Por eso compartía su creatividad organizando fiestas temáticas que se volvieron míticas.

La primera, celebrada el 24 de junio de 1911, se tituló “La Mille et deuxième Nuit” (“La mil y dos noches”), y estaba inspirada en el clásico libro de relatos Las mil y una noches. En la invitación se indicaba claramente que “un disfraz inspirado en cuentos orientales [era] absolutamente obligatorio”.

Las cosas de Paul Poiret vistas por Georges Lepape, París, Paul Poiret, 1911. Ejemplar n.º 176/300. Fototipia coloreada con plantilla.
Les Arts Décoratifs

Poiret se disfrazó de sultán y su esposa Denise de princesa enjaulada, con pantalones de estilo oriental y una túnica con faldas acopladas que sería recordada por todos. La decoración, la comida, la música y las actuaciones giraron en torno al tema central y más de 300 invitados –artistas, escritores, aristócratas– asistieron luciendo diseños del anfitrión.

Fue una fastuosa puesta en escena de sus creaciones: exótica, innovadora, sorprendente, teatral y delirante, como las que hoy son habituales en las presentaciones de las grandes casas de moda.

¿Catálogos de moda u obras de arte?

Quiso que sus diseños llegaran a todos los rincones de Europa. Creó catálogos promocionales con ilustraciones de artistas de la época que él eligió y contribuyó a consagrar.

El 1908 le encargó uno a Paul Iribe: Los vestidos de Paul Poiret. En 1911 hizo lo mismo con Georges Lepape en Las cosas de Paul Poiret. En ellos, las mujeres llevan puestos sus diseños y aparecen fumando, en fiestas, charlando, rodeadas de escenarios que evocan lujo y sofisticación.

Estas recopilaciones son consideradas obras de arte de gran valor y hoy se conservan en la Biblioteca Nacional de Francia, el Museo Metropolitano de Arte de Nueva York y el Victoria & Albert Museum de Londres.

Fuente inagotable de inspiración

Foto en blanco y negro de una mujer vistiendo un traje pantalón a cuadros.
Traje de cuadros diseñado por Paul Poiret en 1914.
United States Library of Congress’s Prints and Photographs division

Su estilo influyó en grandes de la moda que le sucedieron: Christian Dior, Jean Paul Gaultier y John Galliano, entre otros, así como en Gabrielle Chanel. La diseñadora Elsa Schiaparelli, gran amiga y admiradora, le consideraba el Leonardo Da Vinci del sector.

Fue el precursor de los vestidos de los años 20 que Chanel retomó e hizo evolucionar con la creación de una elegancia funcional. Si Poiret renovó y liberó la silueta, Chanel la hizo cómoda, acortando las faldas, dejando libre la cintura, con materiales ligeros y adaptados al movimiento natural del cuerpo. Paul Poiret deploraba el estilo básico y extremadamente sencillo de Chanel que, curiosamente, él mismo había contribuido a crear y que denominaba el misérabilisme de luxe.

El camino a la ruina y el olvido

Durante la Primera Guerra Mundial, Poiret no desistió en su estilo artístico y fastuoso, sin tener en cuenta la realidad social: ante la escasez de la contienda, ignoró por ejemplo tejidos austeros como la lana.

Tampoco atendió a los nuevos gustos de la alta sociedad de posguerra: bailar el tango, bañarse en el mar, conducir coches, el deporte… Una vida más veloz y dinámica exigía vestidos cómodos y adecuados para cada ocasión. Otros diseñadores más conscientes de los cambios, como Chanel, supieron aprovechar los acontecimientos y triunfar.

Sus gastos desmedidos, su resistencia al cambio y las malas decisiones empresariales lo llevaron a la bancarrota. En 1929 tuvo que cerrar su casa de moda, todos sus bienes fueron subastados y su aportación ignorada.

Fue así como el diseñador que anunció la moda moderna y cuya influencia llega hasta hoy murió en 1944: enfermo, arruinado y olvidado.

The Conversation

Ana María Iglesias Botrán no recibe salario, ni ejerce labores de consultoría, ni posee acciones, ni recibe financiación de ninguna compañía u organización que pueda obtener beneficio de este artículo, y ha declarado carecer de vínculos relevantes más allá del cargo académico citado.

ref. El visionario de la alta costura moderna: el olvidado Paul Poiret – https://theconversation.com/el-visionario-de-la-alta-costura-moderna-el-olvidado-paul-poiret-266733

Cómo hacer mejores propósitos de año nuevo: encontrar lo que nos empuja, no buscar lo que nos falta

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Juan-Antonio Moreno-Murcia, Catedrático de Universidad, Universidad Miguel Hernández

Pratchaya.Lee/Shutterstock

Cada comienzo de año tiene algo de ritual silencioso. Cambia el calendario, aflojamos un poco el ritmo y, casi sin darnos cuenta, aparece esa pregunta que vuelve siempre: ¿qué quiero ahora?

A veces la formulamos con palabras claras y queda flotando como una sensación difusa, pero está ahí. Se cuela en las listas de propósitos, en las conversaciones de enero, en esa mezcla rara de expectativa y cansancio que traen los comienzos. Y suele vivirse como si el deseo señalara todo lo que falta, como si el año nuevo fuera una oportunidad para corregir déficits acumulados. Más disciplina, más éxito, menos errores, menos malestar.

Sin embargo, esta forma de plantear los propósitos parte de una idea muy extendida, pero poco cuestionada: que deseamos porque carecemos de algo.

¿Deseamos porque nos falta algo?

Durante años he escuchado a personas muy distintas hablar de sus propósitos como si fueran parches. Como si al lograrlos, por fin, algo esencial quedara resuelto. Con el tiempo, y con mucha experiencia formativa, empecé a sospechar que ahí había una confusión de base. El deseo no es solo la expresión de una carencia. No deseamos únicamente porque algo no está, sino porque estamos vivos, porque hay en nosotros una fuerza que empuja, que insiste, que persevera.

Esta idea no es nueva. En la filosofía de Spinoza, el deseo es entendido como la expresión misma de la esencia humana, aquello que nos impulsa a perseverar en nuestro ser y a aumentar nuestra potencia de actuar. Desde esta perspectiva, el deseo no es un defecto que debamos corregir, sino la energía que sostiene nuestra vida activa.

Pensar así el deseo cambia radicalmente la forma en que encaramos los propósitos. Ya no se trata solo de fijar metas externas, sino de orientar una fuerza que ya está en marcha. Cada vez que formulamos un propósito, estamos decidiendo hacia dónde dirigir nuestra motivación.

El ‘querer’ frente al ‘gustar’

Numerosos estudios en psicología han mostrado que las personas solemos sobreestimar el impacto emocional duradero que tendrán ciertos logros o adquisiciones, un fenómeno conocido como “error de predicción afectiva”. Imaginamos que, cuando alcancemos eso que deseamos, llegará una alegría estable. Sin embargo, esa alegría suele ser breve y dependiente del resultado.

Existe una distinción importante entre el “querer” y el “gustar”. Mientras que el sistema dopaminérgico del “querer” nos empuja obsesivamente hacia la meta, no suele darnos satisfacción: la promesa de ese placer, al alcanzarse, hace desaparecer la satisfacción por la “adaptación hedónica”. Este fenómeno fue descrito por los expertos estadounidenses Philip Brickman y Donald T. Campbell en 1971 y se refiere a que los logros, recompensas o mejoras externas generan un aumento momentáneo de satisfacción, pero con el tiempo dejan de producir el mismo efecto emocional.




Leer más:
Cinco trucos basados en la ciencia para mantener los propósitos de comienzo de curso


Por ejemplo, comprar un teléfono nuevo suele generar entusiasmo y placer en los primeros días o semanas. Sin embargo, a medida que ese objeto se vuelve parte de la rutina cotidiana, la emoción inicial se desvanece y el nivel de satisfacción vuelve a ser similar al anterior, lo que a menudo reactiva el deseo de obtener algo nuevo.

Por esta razón muchos propósitos formulados con entusiasmo a comienzos de año se diluyen con el tiempo: el deseo que los sostenía estaba basado principalmente en la promesa de un placer momentáneo, vulnerable a la adaptación hedónica. Este tipo de metas, denominadas “extrínsecas”, como el dinero, la imagen o el estatus, se asocian con niveles más bajos de bienestar psicológico en comparación con metas intrínsecas vinculadas al crecimiento personal, las relaciones y la contribución al bienestar de otros.

Aunque la adaptación hedónica también se produce en las metas intrínsecas, estas tienden a sostenerse en el tiempo porque no dependen únicamente del placer inmediato, sino del significado, la coherencia personal y el valor del proceso mismo.

Orientar el deseo hacia el sentido

Cuando el deseo se vincula con un propósito más amplio, con algo que sentimos significativo, es decir cuando toma una orientación “eudaimónica” en lugar de hedónica, centrada en el sentido y los valores, no solo logramos mayor bienestar psicológico, sino también mejores indicadores de salud física, menor inflamación y mayor longevidad.

Otros hallazgos muestran que la alineación entre metas personales y valores internos predice mayor persistencia y menor desgaste emocional.

En otras palabras, además de afectar a cómo nos sentimos o cuán motivados estamos, la forma en que orientamos nuestros deseos influye en cómo nuestro cuerpo responde a la adversidad. Aprender a desear mejor aparece así no solo como una tarea ética o psicológica, sino también como una forma concreta de cuidado a largo plazo. No siempre es placentero en el corto plazo, pero es profundamente nutritivo en el largo.

Aumentar nuestra potencia de actuar

Aprender a vivir bien implica desarrollar la capacidad de distinguir entre deseos que aumentan nuestra potencia de actuar y deseos que la disminuyen. En términos motivacionales, se trata de pasar de una regulación externa o impulsiva a una regulación más integrada y autónoma. Este cambio no elimina el esfuerzo, pero lo vuelve más sostenible.

Orientar el deseo no implica reprimirlo ni controlarlo a la fuerza. Tampoco implica renunciar al placer. La tarea es reflexionar sobre nuestros deseos, comprenderlos y transformarlos cuando sea necesario. Cuando lo hacemos, el deseo deja de ser una fuente de frustración recurrente y se convierte en un motor de perseverancia.




Leer más:
Dopamina: el neurotransmisor que nos da la felicidad, pero también nos la quita


El proceso como objetivo, no el resultado

Por ejemplo, un propósito tradicional como “ir más al gimnasio” o “ponerse en forma” suele estar sostenido por motivaciones externas como la apariencia, la comparación social o la urgencia del cambio rápido. Cuando el entusiasmo inicial disminuye o los resultados no aparecen de inmediato, el esfuerzo se vive como una carga y el hábito tiende a abandonarse.

Transformar este propósito implica desplazar el foco desde el resultado hacia la experiencia: mover el cuerpo de una forma que resulte disfrutable, sentirse con más energía en la vida cotidiana o cuidar la salud para poder participar plenamente en actividades significativas. En este reencuadre, la actividad deja de ser un medio para alcanzar una meta externa y se convierte en una práctica con valor en sí misma.

Algo similar ocurre con “comer más sano”. Cuando el objetivo está centrado exclusivamente en el control, el peso o la restricción, suele generar tensión y fatiga. En cambio, si se reformula como elegir alimentos que mejoran el bienestar, escuchar las señales del cuerpo o cuidar la propia energía, la conducta se apoya en una motivación más integrada. Aunque el esfuerzo siga presente, ya no se experimenta como una imposición, sino como una forma coherente de cuidarse.

Una oportunidad para desear mejor

Un propósito bien orientado no siempre genera entusiasmo inmediato. A veces incluso incomoda. Pero tiene algo distintivo: no se agota rápido. Puede atravesar semanas difíciles sin desaparecer, porque no depende solo del estado de ánimo. Se apoya en un sentido más profundo. Y esto es clave al comenzar un año nuevo. La motivación inicial siempre se diluye. La pregunta importante es qué deseo queda cuando el entusiasmo decae.

Quizás el mejor propósito para un año que empieza no sea hacer más ni tener más, sino aprender a desear mejor. Aprender a escuchar qué hay detrás de nuestros anhelos, a distinguir entre lo que calma por un rato y lo que realmente nos nutre. El deseo, cuando está bien orientado, no promete una felicidad futura idealizada. Ofrece algo más sólido: una sensación de dirección.

Un año nuevo, entonces, no es tanto una oportunidad para corregir lo que falta, sino para orientar mejor esa fuerza que ya está en nosotros. Y eso, aunque no siempre se sienta espectacular, suele ser profundamente transformador.

The Conversation

Juan-Antonio Moreno-Murcia no recibe salario, ni ejerce labores de consultoría, ni posee acciones, ni recibe financiación de ninguna compañía u organización que pueda obtener beneficio de este artículo, y ha declarado carecer de vínculos relevantes más allá del cargo académico citado.

ref. Cómo hacer mejores propósitos de año nuevo: encontrar lo que nos empuja, no buscar lo que nos falta – https://theconversation.com/como-hacer-mejores-propositos-de-ano-nuevo-encontrar-lo-que-nos-empuja-no-buscar-lo-que-nos-falta-272711

Climate education proposals will prepare young people in England for changing careers and society

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Andrew Charlton-Perez, Head of School of Mathematical, Physical and Computational Sciences and Professor of Meteorology, University of Reading

PeopleImages/Shutterstock

The review of the national curriculum and assessment in England has proposed three big sets of changes for climate education.

First, to prepare learners for a changing world, it suggests that climate education should be one of five big “applied knowledge areas”: key points of focus that cut across all subject disciplines within the curriculum.

Second, as part of making citizenship teaching compulsory for all key stages, it proposes that age-appropriate climate education should be part of primary teaching. Third, it proposes that climate education is expanded and modernised within specific subjects: geography, science and design and technology.

If implemented together, these changes would bring education in England closer to the comprehensive coverage of climate, sustainability and nature that many people in the sector, including ourselves, have long recommended. It would begin to align education in England with countries around the world, such as Lebanon and Argentina that are seeking to bring climate education into their curricula. Young people have also long been clear about their ambitions for climate education.

The review focuses on the school curriculum. But its effects would extend across the whole education system. What is taught in schools shapes the knowledge, skills and expectations that young people bring into further and higher education. The review will influence qualification design, teacher training and school inspection priorities.

The response to the review has, however, been mixed. Laura Trott, shadow education secretary, has said that “forcing primary schools to use precious time to teach deprived pupils about media literacy and climate change before ensuring that they can read, write and add up is not going to encourage social mobility”.

At the other end of the spectrum, the Climate Majority Project expressed disappointment that the review framed climate as a technical or economic issue, “rather than the all-encompassing context shaping every young person’s future”.

Jobs for the future

The backdrop to the review’s proposals is the accelerating green transition and its impact on UK jobs and growth. Without improved climate education, school leavers in the UK are likely to remain at a significant disadvantage compared with their international peers.

In some countries, such as Sweden and Italy, education for sustainable development is a universal entitlement, meaning they’re better suited for the jobs of the green transition.

The case for climate education goes much further. It’s about preparing young people for the world they already inhabit: one increasingly shaped by climate change, biodiversity loss and limited resources. High-quality climate education helps learners make sense of these realities. It allows them to build critical thinking and problem-solving skills. Importantly, they can connect their learning to real-world purpose.

Children on field trip outdoors
Climate education helps young people understand the world they already live in.
NITINAI THABTHONG/Shutterstock

And far from detracting from core learning or social mobility, climate education deepens both. Global benchmarking systems such as Pisa, which compares education worldwide, increasingly recognise environmental literacy as an indicator of quality education.

The UK’s independent Climate Change Committee, which advises government on how to adapt and prepare for climate change as well as holding them accountable, has warned of the dangers of skills shortages. A lack of climate-related skills, the committee claims, are already constraining the country’s ability to prepare for and respond to climate change impacts. These include extreme weather, heatwaves and flooding.

Ensuring that all young people develop strong climate and nature literacy will therefore be essential for both personal resilience and national prosperity. This matters for every learner, regardless of whether they enter an explicitly “green” profession. All jobs and sectors will need to adapt.

There’s work to be done, though, in making the recommended changes a reality in schools. Luckily, there is already a substantial body of work showing how the curriculum could be changed.

Student campaign organisation Teach the Future has carried out a project that systematically reviews the existing English national curriculum. It suggests precise edits to embed climate and ecological education throughout. Sustainability, climate science and ecological justice are integrated into existing subjects, rather than treated as optional extras.

Alongside that sits the curriculum for climate literacy developed by the Royal Meteorological Society. University College London has also put together a detailed policy proposal. Together, these documents provide a robust foundation for the teams appointed to draft the new curriculum.

Curriculum change is much more than a framework for particular subjects. These changes will only make a genuine difference to learners, schools and society when every teacher has access to high-quality professional development and teaching resources. Consistent sector-wide standards should ensure that all young people benefit.

The curriculum review gives the education system in England a clear opportunity. Climate should be part of a high-quality education system.

The Conversation

Andrew Charlton-Perez receives funding from the Department for Education. He is affiliated, in a personal capacity, with the Labour party as a member and campaigner.

Charlotte works for the Environmental Association for Universities and Colleges (EAUC), who are recipients of Department for Education funding to support the delivery of the Climate Ambassadors project. In a personal rather than professional capacity, she is affiliated with the Green Party.

ref. Climate education proposals will prepare young people in England for changing careers and society – https://theconversation.com/climate-education-proposals-will-prepare-young-people-in-england-for-changing-careers-and-society-270733

Should AI be allowed to resurrect the dead?

Source: The Conversation – UK – By James Muldoon, Associate Professor in Management, University of Essex

The growing industry of ‘grieftech’ enables people to interact with dead relatives. Deepbrain AI

When Roro (not her real name) lost her mother to cancer, the grief felt bottomless. In her mid-20s and working as a content creator in China, she was haunted by the unfinished nature of their relationship. Their bond had always been complicated – shaped by unspoken resentments and a childhood in which care was often followed closely by criticism.

After her mother’s death, Roro found herself unable to reconcile the messiness of their past with the silence that followed. She shared her struggles with her followers on the Chinese social media platform Xiaohongshu (meaning “Little Red Book”), hoping to help them with their own journeys of healing.

Her writing caught the attention of the operators of AI character generator Xingye, who invited her to create an AI version of her mother as a public chatbot.

“I wrote about my mother, documenting all the important events in her life and then creating a story where she was resurrected in an AI world,” Roro told me through a translator. “You write out the major life events that shape the protagonist’s personality, and you define their behavioural patterns. Once you’ve done that, the AI can generate responses on its own. After it generates outputs, you can continue adjusting it based on what you want it to be.”

During the training process, Roro began to reinterpret her past with her mother, altering elements of their story to create a more idealised figure – a gentler and more attentive version of her. This helped her to process the loss, resulting in the creation of Xia (霞), a public chatbot with which her followers could also interact.

After its release, Roro received a message from a friend saying her mum would be so proud of her. “I broke down in tears,” Roro said. “It was incredibly healing. That’s why I wanted to create something like this – not just to heal myself, but also to provide others with something that might say the words they needed to hear.”

Grief in the age of deathbots

As I recount in my new book Love Machines, Roro’s story reflects the new possibilities technology has opened for people to cope with grief through conversational AI. Large language models can be trained using personal material including emails, texts, voice notes and social media posts to mimic the conversational style of a deceased loved one.

These “deathbots” or “griefbots” are one of the more controversial use cases of AI chatbots. Some are text-based, while others also depict the person through a video avatar. US “grieftech” company You, Only Virtual, for example, creates a chatbot from conversations (both spoken and written) between the deceased and one of their living friends or relatives, producing a version of how they appeared to that particular person.

Video by The Guardian.

While some deathbots remain static representations of a person at the time of their death, others are given access to the internet and can “evolve” through conversations. You, Only Virtual’s CEO, Justin Harrison, argues it would not be an authentic version of a deceased person if their AI could not keep up with the times and respond to new information.

But this raises a host of difficult questions about whether estimating the development of a human personality is even possible with current technology, and what effect interacting with such an entity could have on a deceased person’s loved ones.

Xingye, the platform on which Roro created her late mother’s chatbot, is one of the key prompts for proposed new regulations from China’s Cyberspace Administration, the national internet content regulator and censor, which seek to reduce the potential emotional harm of “human-like interactive AI services”.

What does digital resurrection do to grief?

Deathbots fundamentally change the process of mourning because, unlike seeing old letters or photos of the deceased, interacting with generative AI can introduce new and unexpected elements into the grieving process. For Roro, creating and interacting with an AI version of her mother felt surprisingly therapeutic, allowing her to articulate feelings she never voiced and achieve a sense of closure.

But not everyone shares this experience, including London-based journalist Lottie Hayton, who lost both her parents suddenly in 2022 and wrote about her experiences recreating them with AI. She said she found the simulations uncanny and distressing: the technology wasn’t quite there, and the clumsy imitations felt as if they cheapened her real memories rather than honoured them.

Official trailer for the grieftech documentary Eternal You.

There are also important ethical questions about whose consent is required for the creation of a deathbot, where they would be allowed to be displayed and what impact they could have on other family members and friends.

Does one relative’s desire to create a symbolic companion who helps them make sense of their loss give them the right to display a deathbot publicly on their social media account, where others will see it – potentially exacerbating their grief? What happens when different relatives disagree about whether a parent or partner would have wanted to be digitally resurrected at all?

The companies creating these deathbots are not neutral grief counsellors; they are commercial platforms driven by familiar incentives around growth, engagement and data harvesting. This creates a tension between what is emotionally healthy for users and what is profitable for firms. A deathbot that people visit compulsively, or struggle to stop talking to, may be a business success but a psychological trap.

These risks don’t mean we should ban all experiments with AI-mediated grief or dismiss the genuine comfort some people, like Roro, find in them. But they do mean that decisions about “resurrecting” the dead can’t be left solely to start-ups and venture capital.

The industry needs clear rules about consent, limits on how posthumous data can be used, and design standards that prioritise psychological wellbeing over endless engagement. Ultimately, the question is not just whether AI should be allowed to resurrect the dead, but who gets to do so, on what terms, and at what cost.

This article includes a link to bookshop.org. If you click the link and go on to buy from bookshop.org, The Conversation UK may earn a commission.

The Conversation

James Muldoon 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. James is the author of Love Machines: How Artificial Intelligence is Transforming Our Relationships (Faber).

ref. Should AI be allowed to resurrect the dead? – https://theconversation.com/should-ai-be-allowed-to-resurrect-the-dead-272643

Is Keir Starmer’s silence on Venezuela a mistake? What history tells us

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Martin Farr, Senior Lecturer in Contemporary British History, Newcastle University

It is unlikely that within the first few days of a great global event – one moreover triggered by its closest ally launching a coup and kidnapping a head of state – a British government has said so little. It took 16 hours for it to say anything at all, and then, not much. And it has said not much thereafter.

So little said, at such length: the prime minister, in his Sunday morning BBC TV interview; James Kariuki, chargé d’affaires in the UK Mission to the United Nations at Monday morning’s Security Council emergency session; and Yvette Cooper, foreign secretary, for over two hours in the House of Commons on Monday evening.

Yvette Cooper speaking in parliament.
The Foreign secretary makes a lengthy statement to the Commons on Venezuela.
Parliament TV

This is both explicable and arguable. For Britain, Venezuela is not particularly significant. There are trade interests but it is far away, of foreign tongue; absent from domestic political discourse. The last time a British prime minister and a Venezuelan president met – Tony Blair and Hugo Chavez – was in 2001.

However, other than in times of actual war (1812) the nadir in US-UK relations concerned Venezuela. A long-forgotten crisis was triggered in 1895 by a dispute over the border between it and British Guiana. The spat elicited the equally forgotten Olney corollary – a proposition from the US government which nonetheless repays reacquaintance in light of recent developments: “Today the United States is practically sovereign on this continent.”

The present crisis similarly concerns hemispheric hegemony. It evokes the better-known 1823 Monroe doctrine, as a warning to the old world to stay out of the new. It adds resource competition (oil: Venezuela has rather a lot, much of it exported to China), while challenging the post-1945 “rules-based order” (reminding us that it was only ever convention-based) and threatening to replace it with one based largely on power. And there’s the upending of the 1648 Westphalian states system, which found fulfilment 300 years later in the creation of the UN.

Hence fears as to what precedent the president has set. Outrage at the Security Council from Russia and China was purely performative given that Trump could not have done more to legitimise their plans for Ukraine and Taiwan. Moscow was almost wistful, admiring how the Americans had managed with Venezuela in an hour what they had failed to do with Ukraine in four years.

Channelling James Monroe and Richard Olney, but with Ukrainian ally Volodymyr Zelenskyy in mind much more than either, Keir Starmer would never break publicly with Trump over something in the Americas. Canada is the exception, as was made clear in the pushback against the US when Trump suggested a Commonwealth realm should become America’s “51st state”.

Silence buys influence?

Insofar as the UK government has a distinct response, it’s that there should be a transition to democracy in Venezuela, ideally by including opposition figures. Trump has said he won’t pursue so left-field an option.

The lack of contact with the president – Starmer unwisely saying publicly that he was seeking it – is embarrassing, and summoned the inevitable clichés about puppets and poodles. The hope (increasingly more than the expectation) is that silence buys influence.

If that was not a green light from the UK, there is one red line. Greenland. The clarity of the government’s response to Trump’s predations is surprising, if the reason for it is not. Denmark has long been a close UK ally, not least over Ukraine. But siding publicly with Copenhagen over Washington is something else Starmer would not ordinarily have been expecting to have to do.

But American-led international crises have upended other Labour premiers. In 1950, Clement Attlee rearmed for the Korean War, with cuts in public spending to pay for it. Labour was out of office the following year.

The next decade, Harold Wilson declined to have a public opinion over the Vietnam war, thereby infuriating both the Americans and the young he enfranchised in 1969. Labour was out of office the following year.

The best known example remains Iraq. On the back of two landslide election triumphs in 2003, Blair split his party and inflamed the public. Labour’s parliamentary majority was slashed two years later. Unquestioning support for an American president became Blair’s nemesis.

He was comfortable with that. But Trump has transgressed the only recognisable facet of what political identity Starmer actually has: adherence to the rule of law, and international law at that. Yet he can only be mute.

The apparent inconsistencies between Starmer’s past and present can be reconciled by the elemental fact that he’s prime minister. What animated the student, the activist, the lawyer, the MP, cannot in office.

Laura Kuenssberg and Keir Starmer sitting opposite each other.
The prime minister in a New Year’s interview with the BBC.
Flickr/Number 10, CC BY-NC-ND

But it is that failure – that refusal – to opine that most exasperates MPs. Cooper’s fractious Venezuela statement highlighted fissures within Labour that are evident whenever the US, or Israel, is concerned.

Maduro was the kind of leader who gives leftwing governments a bad name, which is why only the hard left – Richard Burgon, John McDonnell – are incensed. The main threats to Starmer’s leadership come from the soft left – Angela Rayner, Andy Burnham – where such affairs have less salience, and the right – Wes Streeting, Al Carns – where they’re merely awkward.

For May’s impending local and national elections the impact may be clearer, and graver. The Liberal Democrats, Greens, Your Party, SNP and Plaid Cymru accept gratefully a gift that will go on giving on innumerable doorsteps throughout the spring.

The Conservatives happen to agree with the government’s policy, if not necessarily its delivery. Few of their voters will care about recondite international law. Fewer still, Reform UK voters. Almost unheard of, Nigel Farage, too, has been mute.

Desperate to engineer a narrative reset in 2026, Starmer, this mildest of prime ministers – politically, temperamentally – now finds himself faced with the so-called Donroe doctrine, Trump’s “update” to the Monroe doctrine.

It would be somewhat to understate to say that this was not the start to the year for which Starmer was hoping. As we gaze upon the most imperial of presidencies, he can only dream of a similar premiership.

The Conversation

Martin Farr 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 Keir Starmer’s silence on Venezuela a mistake? What history tells us – https://theconversation.com/is-keir-starmers-silence-on-venezuela-a-mistake-what-history-tells-us-272837

A speeding clock could solve Darwin’s mystery of gaps in animal fossil records

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Max Telford, Jodrell Professor of Zoology and Comparative Anatomy, UCL

Trilobites were among the first complex animals. Couperfield/Shutterstock

The oldest fossilised remains of complex animals appear suddenly in the fossil record, and as if from nowhere, in rocks that are 538 million years old.

The very oldest of these are simple fossilised marks (called Treptichnus) made by something worm-like with a head and a tail. A host of other animals appear rapidly, ancestors of the diverse animal groups we know today: ancient crab-like arthropods, shelled molluscs and the forebears of starfish and sea urchins.

The rapid arrival of animals so different to each other (and their absence in even slightly older rocks) was a headache for Charles Darwin because it seemed to go against his idea of gradual evolution – and it has confused scientists ever since. However, a recent paper may provide a solution.

In 1859, Darwin wrote in On the Origin of Species: “If my theory be true … during these vast … periods of time, the world swarmed with living creatures. To the question why we do not find records of these vast primordial periods, I can give no satisfactory answer.”

Today, scientists are in disagreement about when these ancient animals evolved. The problem stems from a late 20th-century invention called the molecular
clock
.

As I explain in my book the Tree of Life, the molecular clock relies on the idea that changes to genes accumulate steadily, like the regular ticks of a grandfather clock. If this idea holds true then simply counting the number of genetic differences between any two animals will let us calculate how distantly related they are – how old their shared ancestor is.

For example, humans and chimpanzees separated 6 million years ago. Let’s say that one chimpanzee gene shows six genetic differences from its human counterpart. As long as the ticks of the molecular clock are regular, this would tell us that one genetic difference between two species corresponds to one million years.

The molecular clock should allow us to place evolutionary events in geological time right across the tree of life.

When zoologists first used molecular clocks in this way, they came to the
extraordinary conclusion that the ancestor of all complex animals lived as long as
1.2 billion years ago. Subsequent improvements now give much more sensible estimates for the age of the animal ancestor at around 570 million years old. But this is still roughly 30 million years older than the first fossils.

This 30-million-year-long gap is actually rather helpful to Darwin. It means that there was plenty of time for the ancestor of complex animals to evolve, unhurriedly splitting to make new species which natural selection could gradually transform into forms as distinct as fish, crabs, snails and starfish.

The problem is that this ancient date leaves us with the idea that a host of ancient animals must have swum, slithered and crawled through these ancient seas for 30 million years without leaving a single fossil. Researchers expect gaps in the fossil record but this one would be a whopper.

Red starfish under water.
Starfish evolved their shape hundreds of millions of years ago.
Rich Carey/Shutterstock

A popular explanation for the missing fossils is that, for 30 million years, complex animals were tiny and squishy and so hard to fossilise. And then, around 540 million years ago, so the theory goes, these tiny animals began to grow larger, perhaps due to increasing oxygen levels. It is this increase in size that some scientists have used to explain the sudden appearance of complex animals in the fossil record.

The new paper by palaeontologist Graham Budd and mathematician Richard Mann gives a different explanation for the chasm between the ancient ancestor predicted by the molecular clock, and the more sudden, later appearance of complex fossils. Budd and Mann suggest that the molecular clock may not tick quite as regularly as we thought.

The new idea is that the moment that any big group of organisms first appears, evolution speeds up.

To return to our example, for a period of a few million years our imaginary clock could have ticked not once per million years but twice. A faster ticking clock would make it appear as if more time was passing, like pressing fast forward on a video, and this would push the age of the animal ancestor further back into the past.

Faster changing genes would also allow the animals’ appearance to change more quickly. This solves Darwin’s dilemma as it would make it easier for the various branches of the animal tree to become different from each other. The first animal ancestor could quickly diversify into vertebrates, molluscs, arthropods and starfish.

The overall effect of the new idea is to bring the age of the ancestor of complex animals much more in line with the appearance in the fossil record of its immediate descendants.

While the speeding clock idea needs testing, it could explain other mismatches between molecular clocks and fossil record. Perhaps the first flowering plants really existed for tens of millions of years before finally leaving a fossil. And it could help settle scientific debates about whether early primates, carnivores and rodents really lived alongside the last dinosaurs.

For the origins of the animals at least, I feel sure that Darwin would approve.

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

The Conversation

Max Telford 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. A speeding clock could solve Darwin’s mystery of gaps in animal fossil records – https://theconversation.com/a-speeding-clock-could-solve-darwins-mystery-of-gaps-in-animal-fossil-records-263988

How eggs can help you come off Wegovy – cracking the problem of weight-regain

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Adam Collins, Associate Professor of Nutrition, University of Surrey

Oksana Mizina/Shutterstock.com

For millions of people, weight-loss injections such as Wegovy and Mounjaro have felt like a breakthrough that finally makes eating less feel easier. In a few short years, these so-called GLP-1 drugs have reshaped how obesity is treated and how people think about appetite and willpower. But their success raises an awkward question that more people are now facing: what happens when you stop taking them?

People come off GLP-1 drugs for many reasons – cost, side-effects or because they have reached a weight they are happy with. Growing numbers are looking for ways to ease off these injections or replace some of their effects with food. One surprisingly simple option worth considering – whether you are still using GLP-1 drugs, tapering them down or stopping altogether – is the humble egg.

The central problem with almost all weight-loss methods is weight regain. After weight loss, the body pushes back, increasing hunger and nudging metabolism in ways that encourage weight to return, driven by a powerful physiological and metabolic drive. Long-term studies of GLP-1 drugs show that once people stop taking them, they regain more than half of the weight they lost.

This rebound may be even stronger than other dieting methods because of how GLP-1 drugs interact with appetite hormones. Evidence suggests that the body’s own release of the satiety hormone GLP-1 after meals may be reduced, either because GLP-1 is broken down more quickly or because the body becomes less sensitive to it. Hunger then returns faster, making weight maintenance feel like an uphill struggle.

Eggit strategy for life after Wegovy

This is where eggs might help. They are naturally nutritious, providing high-quality protein that contains all essential amino acids, along with vitamin D and a wide range of micronutrients. They are also the most sustainable form of animal protein and among the most affordable.

Historic concerns about eggs and health have steadily faded as the evidence has become clearer. Earlier health scaremongering around eggs has now been much diminished. In the UK, egg consumption is rising, with around 37 million eggs eaten each day – roughly three to four per person per week.

Eggs on a packing production line.
Thirty-seven million eggs are eaten each day in the UK.
Remberto Nieves/Shutterstock.com

One reason eggs matter here is their effect on appetite. Eating eggs has been repeatedly shown to help people feel fuller for longer and eat less at later meals, including among people who are overweight or obese. This is partly because protein in eggs triggers the release of the body’s own GLP-1, while also suppressing the hunger hormone ghrelin.

In this sense, eggs act as a natural GLP-1 agonist rather than a drug. The effect is amplified when eggs are combined with fibre-rich foods, such as wholegrain toast, which further boosts GLP-1 release and brings additional health benefits. This makes eggs a useful surrogate for some of the appetite-controlling effects of injections, particularly for people reducing their dose or stopping altogether.

Eggs also have a role for people who are still taking GLP-1 drugs. Losing weight does not just mean losing fat; muscle is often lost too, particularly when taking GLP-1 drugs. Preserving muscle requires adequate protein intake, yet this can be difficult when appetite is suppressed and food intake is low.

Studies suggest that protein intakes of around 1g per kilogram of body weight or higher are associated with greater preservation of muscle. Eggs offer a practical, portion-controlled way to reach these targets when larger meals are unappealing.

Beyond protein, eggs provide nutrients that many people struggle to get enough of. The UK population is generally at risk of low vitamin D intake, particularly during winter. And a 2025 study found that people taking GLP-1 drugs were falling short on several key nutrients, including calcium, iron, magnesium, potassium and vitamins A, C, D, E and K.

This matters because people with obesity may already have deficiencies in nutrients such as vitamin E, selenium and zinc. Eggs may be a cost-effective way of addressing nutritional shortfalls, particularly for those using GLP-1 drugs.

So this may be a good moment to rediscover the virtues of an everyday food. Eggs are not nature’s Wegovy or Mounjaro, and it would be misleading to frame them that way. But their effects on appetite, protein intake and nutrition should not be overlooked.

Whether you are considering GLP-1 drugs, currently using them or planning your exit strategy, eggs may turn out to be a quiet ally. As more people come off these powerful medications, simple foods like this could play an important role in what comes next.

The Conversation

Adam Collins is a member of the British Lion Eggs Nutrition Advisory Group, serving as a paid consultant.

ref. How eggs can help you come off Wegovy – cracking the problem of weight-regain – https://theconversation.com/how-eggs-can-help-you-come-off-wegovy-cracking-the-problem-of-weight-regain-271883

Buy-now-pay-later rules in the UK will change in 2026, but will they offer protection or exclusion?

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Adeola Y. Oyebowale, Assistant Professor in Banking, University of Doha for Science and Technology

New rules are coming. Andrey_Popov/Shutterstock

Buy-now-pay-later is an appealing proposition. You get what you want now, but you delay settling the bill until later, with no interest and no fees.

It’s how lots of things are bought. The UK’s buy-now-pay-later (BNPL) sector has nearly 23 million users and was worth £28 billion in 2025.

In 2026 though, it will face a major transformation. From mid-July, its lenders – the likes of Klarna and PayPal – will be regulated in the UK for the first time by the Financial Conduct Authority watchdog.

This marks a major change for a sector that has largely operated outside consumer credit regulation – and could fundamentally change how millions of people manage their their finances.

The government says the new legislation is designed to protect shoppers, end the “wild west” of some BNPL schemes, and even drive economic growth.

So from July, BNPL lenders will have to run affordability checks. They will also need to be more transparent about terms and conditions, establish a proper system for handling customer complaints, and prove that they are financially stable.

And it’s easy to see why the sector might require a bit more oversight. A quarter of UK users have experienced late payment charges, with younger shoppers increasingly affected by missed payments. (BNPL providers make money out of this, but their primary revenue comes from taking a percentage of each BNPL transaction from the retailer, plus a service fee.)

There is also research which suggests that many people use credit cards (typically carrying interest rates of around 20%) to make their interest-free BNPL payments, raising serious questions about financial literacy and debt spirals.

But the coming protections may significantly change the market, imposing operational costs that could affect smaller providers. This may lead to greater market dominance by major players like Klarna and Clearpay, potentially stifling innovation and reducing choice.

And choice is surely what has made BNPL so appealing and successful in the first place. It was an innovative new payment method that disrupted the world of traditional credit.

Research in behavioural economics shows us that people tend to favour instant rewards and consider split payments to be more manageable.

Aussie rules

The UK’s change to BNPL regulation follows a similar move in Australia in June 2025. And while it is too early for a definitive evaluation, not everything there has run as smoothly as anticipated.

Banks, now legally required to scrutinise all financial commitments during credit assessments are reportedly advising some customers to close BNPL accounts to improve their borrowing capacity. It has also been claimed that consumers who used BNPL to manage cash flow sensibly now face barriers to accessing mortgages.

The same problems may be avoided in the UK, if affordability checks are designed to fit BNPL’s short-term, interest-free nature. Yet whether this provides sufficient protection remains contentious. Research shows that nearly one in five BNPL users are layering debt, using credit cards to fund their payments.

But strict regulation creates a significant risk of its own. Research on consumer credit regulation suggests that if BNPL becomes inaccessible, vulnerable consumers do not simply stop borrowing. Instead they borrow elsewhere, often at much greater cost.

They may turn to overdrafts with punishing fees, payday lenders with minimal oversight, or informal lending with no consumer protection.

Looking at who uses BNPL, the demographic data complicates this further. With usage concentrated in deprived areas and among younger populations, the regulatory framework will disproportionately affect financially constrained groups.

For these users, BNPL often serves as a budgeting tool allowing the cost of groceries or other essential purchases to be managed over time. Affordability checks might protect some people from overextending themselves financially, but they will also mean transactions are declined for responsible people using BNPL to manage predictable, necessary expenses.

Klarna app on phone next to calendar with dates circled.
BNPL can be used to manage expenses.
Ascannio/Shutterstock

The regulations will succeed or fail based on outcomes we can only measure later on. So if BNPL default rates decline but unauthorised overdraft usage rises, a problem has been shifted rather than solved.

Likewise, analysing which demographic groups are most often refused BNPL permission will show whether regulation disproportionately excludes the vulnerable populations it aims to protect.

Either way, millions of BNPL users will experience material changes to a financial tool many have integrated into routine spending patterns. For some, particularly those at risk of debt spirals, increased protections will prevent financial harm.

For others, including responsible users managing cash flow during temporary shortfalls, affordability checks may create new barriers without providing any meaningful protection at all.

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. Buy-now-pay-later rules in the UK will change in 2026, but will they offer protection or exclusion? – https://theconversation.com/buy-now-pay-later-rules-in-the-uk-will-change-in-2026-but-will-they-offer-protection-or-exclusion-263763

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

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Pablo Uchoa, PhD Candidate in International Politics, Institute of the Americas, UCL

Shortly after US special forces captured and extracted Nicolás Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, on November 3, Donald Trump said that the US would now “run” Venezuela.

Whatever Washington’s plans for the future of Venezuelan governance, this show of US force in Latin America looks like the first manifestation of a more assertive American foreign policy outlined in the national security strategy published in November 2025. This plainly asserted the Trump administration’s intention to “reassert and enforce the Monroe doctrine to restore American pre-eminence in the Western Hemisphere”.

Rather than force regime change at this point, Trump has indicated that he is willing to work with Maduro’s vice-president, Delcy Rodriguez, who has been sworn in as president. Rodríguez has adopted a conciliatory tone, inviting the US government to “work together on a cooperative agenda”. For the US president, “cooperation” will involve giving US oil companies unfettered access to Venezuela’s oil reserves, the largest in the world.

Announcing the raid at a press conference held hours after American forces snatched Maduro, Trump appeared to issue threats of similar interventions in Colombia, which he said was run by a “sick man who likes to make cocaine and sell it to the US”. His secretary of state, Marco Rubio – the child of Cuban exiles – also hinted at US intentions towards Cuba, saying: “If I lived in Havana and I was in the government, I’d be concerned at least a little bit.”

The US secretary of defense, Pete Hegseth, was perhaps most revealing of the three, talking about the administration’s goal of “reestablishing American deterrence and dominance in the Western Hemisphere”. In a clear warning to US foes, Hegseth said that no other country could have pulled this operation off, adding: “Our adversaries remain on notice. America can project our will anywhere, anytime.”

This is worrying in terms of geopolitics for two reasons.

First, the administration has shown a remarkable lack of engagement with international law. It has chosen instead to frame the raid as a police action to apprehend Maduro as a “narco-terrorist” responsible flooding the US with drugs.

This thin veil of legality has proved successful in the past. In 1989, the administration of George H.W. Bush ordered the invasion of Panama to capture the strongman dictator Manuel Noriega. Noriega was tried in Miami and jailed for 20 years on charges of being a sponsor of illicit drug trafficking.

Despite the UN passing a resolution condemning the invasion as a “flagrant violation of international law” (vetoed by the US, UK and France) the invasion enabled the US to take control of the canal. It held the canal for a decade before handing over operations to the Panama Canal Authority on December 31 1999.

The success of Bush’s invasion could explain why the Trump administration is taking a similar approach with Venezuela. Washington’s official line been to focus on Maduro’s alleged criminality rather than any US ambition to affect regime change in Venezuela.




Read more:
How US intervention in Venezuela mirrors its actions in Panama in 1989


Hegseth also insisted that the raid was about “safety, security, freedom and prosperity for the American people”. This assertion succinctly captures how the parameters of US national security have evolved to be much broader than defence. They now appear effectively inseparable from advancing US economic interests globally.

It’s an updated version of the Monroe doctrine, which the national security strategy described as the “Trump corollary”, but which the president himself has referred to as the “Donroe doctrine”. The term, which appears to have been coined by the New York Post (but which Trump nonetheless appears to have taken a liking to – as with most things that bear his name) is a vision of geopolitics which projects US power across the Americas.

And it looks set to be used to grab whatever resources the US perceives as beneficial to its interests, from Greenland’s minerals and strategic position to the Panama canal and Venezuelan oil.

A new era of interventionism?

Naturally, it is in Latin America where these threats become more palpable. The 1823 Monroe doctrine – developed under the then president, James Monroe – designated the western hemisphere as an area of US influence in which the European powers of the time were explicitly warned not to interfere. Seven decades later, the 1904 “Roosevelt corollary” added the principle that the US could interfere in any Latin American countries plagued by “wrongdoing or impotence” and “requiring intervention by some civilized nation”.

Cartoon of Uncle Sam Straddling the Americas.
The Munroe doctrine.
Louis Dalrymple, Wikimedia Commons

This principle was invoked to justify direct occupation of Latin American countries contrary to US interests in the early 20th century. In this century, China’s growing links in Latin America have prompted a resurgence of references to the Monroe doctrine – particularly by Republican Congress members.

In 2026, these developments highlight the Trump administration’s willingness to enhance the capabilities of this outlook. It is not clear how the Donroe doctrine differs from its predecessors. But like them, it seems to subordinate international law to national interest.

And while it is aimed at a global audience, it also appears to entitle powerful countries with the right of having spheres of influence. Commentators have referred to this as an era of “rogue superpowers” and the “Putinisation” of US foreign policy.

The absence of conspicuous military support for Maduro from either Russia or China reinforces those arguments. China reportedly buys 76% of Venezuelan oil, while Moscow has in recent years had strong military ties with Caracas. The two countries have also cooperated closely to help each other avoid US oil sanctions.

The new US foreign policy stance as exemplified by the snatching of Maduro means the world is more dangerous – and Latin America considerably more vulnerable. But for now it’s Venezuela, which appears to be the laboratory where Trump has decided to flex America’s geopolitical muscles.

And it looks as if Maduro is the unlucky guinea pig, whose fate is designed to indicate what the world’s most powerful military can and will do to advance its economic and national security interests around the world.

The Conversation

Pablo Uchoa was funded by UKRI, through LAHP, to complete his PhD in Political Science at the UCL Institute of the Americas.

ref. The ‘Donroe doctrine’: Maduro is the guinea pig for Donald Trump’s new world order – https://theconversation.com/the-donroe-doctrine-maduro-is-the-guinea-pig-for-donald-trumps-new-world-order-272687

How a ferocious 19th-century hurricane helped Irish people get their British pension

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Robyn Atcheson, Open Learning Tutor in Social History, Queen’s University Belfast

An illustration of the ‘Night of the Big Wind’ from 1839. Wikipedia, CC BY

Sunday January 6 1839 signalled the end of the festive season, the last of the 12 days of Christmas. The people of Ireland woke to light snow and many were looking forward to the evening’s celebrations.

January 6 was known as Nollaig na mBan – “women’s Christmas” when womenfolk across the country took a day off from their traditional domestic chores as a reward for all their efforts, and visited friends and family.

The temperature rose dramatically by mid-afternoon before rain started around 3pm. The Ordnance Survey had been carrying out observations at Phoenix Park in Dublin for a decade and their readings showed how quickly the atmosphere was changing during the day. As evening approached, people were aware of an approaching storm.

By 10pm Ireland was hit with the full force of a hurricane that would last at least eight hours. It had travelled over the Atlantic Ocean, gathering momentum, before crashing over the west coast. Waves even broke over the top of the Cliffs of Moher. And so the destruction began.

A perfect storm

The Enniskillen Chronicle wrote the next day: “The gale increased in violence until it became a perfect hurricane, unroofing houses, blowing down chimneys, prostrating boundary walls, and almost everything that offered resistance.”

As windows shattered and the thatch on rooftops blew away, the people of Ireland were in darkness, only able to see in the flashes of lightning and the light of an apparent aurora borealis. In recorded memories of the event, the main sensory experience was the sheer noise of the storm – “the deafening roar of a thousand pieces of artillery”, a reporter wrote on January 10.

Thousands of trees were blown down across Ireland. Fires broke out, fanned by the fierce winds. Along the Tyrone-Monaghan border there was a fire in almost every townland (the name for settlements before modern towns were established). In Dublin, the Bethesda Chapel caught on fire, burning the church, its attached school, six town houses and the House of Refuge for “reclaimed females”.

The river Liffey overflowed, there were flash floods in Strabane and all the water was reportedly blown out of a canal near Tuam. The earth was stripped alongside the river Boyne, exposing the bones of soldiers killed in battle 150 years earlier. Fish were found six miles inland while vegetation even 40 miles inland tasted of brine.

It is difficult to calculate the number of lives lost that night. Estimates put the death toll between 250 and 300 people. Many sailors died at sea, including the captain and entire crew of the Andrew Nugent, wrecked off Arranmore Island. Lord Castlemaine was fastening his bedroom window at Moydrum Castle in Athlone when the storm blew it open, hurling him across the room and killing him instantly.

Those who died in the aftermath, from injuries, pneumonia, frostbite or other related consequences of the storm, have never been counted. Stacks of hay and corn were devastated by fire. The houses that suffered the most were those of the lower classes.

Storm then famine

Some families and communities were only just recovering from the effects of the storm by 1845 when Ireland faced another national catastrophe with the first failure of the potato crop.

As they sought to make sense of the seemingly apocalyptic event they had lived through, people turned to religion and superstition. The storm was variously interpreted as a battle between English and Irish fairy folk, the devil causing havoc, and as a warning from God that the day of judgement would soon arrive. With the onslaught of the Great Hunger six years later, it is no wonder that people were afraid to name this terrible event.

By the end of the century, the “Night of the Big Wind” had become the most common name used by the poor to discuss the trauma of January 1839. It had become easier to discuss this freak occurrence than the more traumatic An Gorta Mór, the Irish term for the Great Hunger of the late 1840s.

In a strange twist, cultural memories of the night were also to become very lucrative in the next century. In 1909 the Old Age Pension Act was implemented in the United Kingdom. Old age was deemed to include those 70 years old and above.

In Ireland – still part of the UK at this point – this was a problem, as birth registration had not been made compulsory until 1864. Many old people, particularly Catholics, had no way to prove they were over the threshold. Memories and anecdotal evidence were turned to as a means of establishing whether someone was eligible.

Being able to give an account of your memory of “the Big Wind” was a sure-fire way of establishing you were over 70. Pension bureaucracy noted that quite a lot of people had the same memory and even recounted it in the same phrase: “I was able to eat a potato out of my hand on the ‘Night of the Big Wind’.”

This was an expression that was easy for people to remember, and showed the individual was old enough to feed themselves in 1839. By March 1909, 80,000 people in the United Kingdom had applied for the pension – 70,000 of them were Irish.

One such pensioner was Tim Joyce from Co. Limerick who cheerfully recounted: “I always thought I was 60. But my friends came to me and told me they were certain sure I was 70, and as there were three or four of them against me, the evidence was too strong for me. I put in for the pension and got it.”


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

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

ref. How a ferocious 19th-century hurricane helped Irish people get their British pension – https://theconversation.com/how-a-ferocious-19th-century-hurricane-helped-irish-people-get-their-british-pension-271653