MIL Submissions Engine

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Nick Haslam, Professor of Psychology, The University of Melbourne

Milan Kundera opens his novel The Book of Laughter and Forgetting with a scene from the winter of 1948. Klement Gottwald, leader of the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia, is giving a speech to the masses from a palace balcony, surrounded by fellow party members. Comrade Vladimir Clementis thoughtfully places his fur hat on Gottwald’s bare head; the hat then features in an iconic photograph.

Four years later, Clementis is found guilty of being a bourgeois nationalist and hanged. His ashes are strewn on a Prague street. The propaganda section of the party removes him from written history and erases him from the photograph.

“Nothing remains of Clementis,” writes Kundera, “but the fur hat on Gottwald’s head.”

---

Review: Memory Lane: The Perfectly Imperfect Ways We Remember – Ciara Greene & Gillian Murphy (Princeton University Press)

---

Efforts to enforce political forgetting are often associated with totalitarian regimes. The state endeavours to control not only its citizens, but also the past. To create a narrative that glorifies the present and idealises the future, history must be rewritten or even completely obliterated.

In a famous article on “the totalitarian ego”, the social psychologist Anthony Greenwald argued that individual selves operate in the same way. We deploy an array of cognitive biases to maintain a sense of control, and to shape and reshape our personal history. We distort the present and fabricate the past to ensure we remain the heroes of our life narratives.

Likening the individual to a destructive political system might sound extreme, but it has an element of truth. Memory Lane, a new book by Irish psychology researchers Ciara Greene and Gillian Murphy, shows how autobiographical memory has a capacity to rewrite history that is almost Stalinesque.

There is no shortage of books on memory, from self-help guides for the anxiously ageing to scholarly works of history. Memory Lane is distinctive for taking the standpoint of applied cognitive psychology. Emphasising how memory functions in everyday life, Greene and Murphy explore the processes of memory and the influences that shape them.

What memory is not

The key message of the book is that the memory system is not a recording device. We may be tempted to see memory as a vault where past experience is faithfully preserved, but in fact it is fundamentally reconstructive.

Memories are constantly revised in acts of recollection. They change in predictable ways over time, moulded by new information, our prior beliefs and current emotions, other people’s versions of events, or an interviewer’s leading questions.

According to Greene and Murphy’s preferred analogy, memory is like a Lego tower. A memory is initially constructed from a set of elements, but over time some will be lost as the structure simplifies to preserve the gist of the event. Elements may also be added as new information is incorporated and the memory is refashioned to align with the person’s beliefs and expectations.

The malleability of memory might look like a weakness, especially by comparison to digital records. Memory Lane presents it as a strength. Humans did not evolve to log objective truths for posterity, but to operate flexibly in a complex and changing world.

From an adaptive standpoint, the past only matters insofar as it helps us function in the present. Our knowledge should be updated by new information. We should assimilate experiences to already learned patterns. And we should be tuned to our social environment, rather than insulated from it.

“If all our memories existed in some kind of mental quarantine, separate from the rest of our knowledge and experiences,” the authors write, “it would be like using a slow, inefficient computer program that could only show you one file at a time, never drawing connections or updating incorrect impressions.”

Simplifying and discarding memories is also beneficial because our cognitive capacity is limited. It is better to filter out what matters from the deluge of past experiences than to be overwhelmed with irrelevancies. Greene and Murphy present the case of a woman with exceptional autobiographical memory, who is plagued by the triggering of obsolete memories.

Forgetting doesn’t merely de-clutter memory; it also serves emotional ends. Selectively deleting unpleasant memories increases happiness. Sanding off out-of-character experiences fosters a clear and stable sense of self.

“Hindsight bias” boosts this feeling of personal continuity by bringing our recollections into line with our current beliefs. Revisionist history it may be, but it is carried out in the service of personal identity.

Eyewitness memories and misinformation

Memory Lane pays special attention to situations in which memory errors have serious consequences, such as eyewitness testimony. Innocent people can be convicted on the basis of inaccurate eyewitness identifications. An array of biases make these more likely and they are especially common in interracial contexts.

Recollections can also be influenced by the testimony of other witnesses, and even by the language used during questioning. In a classic study, participants who viewed videos of car accidents estimated the car’s speed as substantially faster when the cars were described as having “smashed” rather than “contacted”. These distortions are not temporary: new information overwrites and overrides the original memory.

Misinformation works in a similar way and with equally dire consequences, such as vaccination avoidance. False information not only modifies existing memories but can even produce false memories, especially when it aligns with our preexisting beliefs and ideologies.

Greene and Murphy present intriguing experimental evidence that false memories are prevalent and easy to implant. Children and older adults seem especially susceptible to misinformation, but no one is immune, regardless of education or intelligence.

Reassuringly, perhaps, digital image manipulation and deepfake videos are no more likely to induce false memories than good old-fashioned verbiage. A doctored picture may not be worth a thousand words when it comes to warping memory.

Memory Lane devotes some time to the “memory wars” of the 1980s and 1990s, when debate raged over the existence of repressed memories. Greene and Murphy argue the now mainstream view that many traumatic memories supposedly recovered in therapy were false memories induced by therapists. Memories for traumatic events are not repressed, they argue, and traumatic memories are neither qualitatively different from other memories, nor stored separately from them.

Here the science of memory runs contrary to the wildly popular claims of writers such as psychiatrist Bessel van der Kolk, author of the bestseller The Body Keeps the Score.

---

Read more:
The Body Keeps the Score: how a bestselling book helps us understand trauma – but inflates the definition of it

---

Misunderstanding memory

The authors of Memory Lane contend that we hold memory to unrealistic standards of accuracy, completeness and stability. When people misremember the past or change their recollections, we query their honesty or mental health. When our own memories are hazy, we worry about cognitive decline.

Greene and Murphy argue that it is in the very nature of memory to be fallible, malleable and limited. This message is heartening, but it does not clarify why we would expect memory to be more capacious, coherent and durable in the first place. Nor does it explain why we persist with this wrongheaded expectation, despite so much evidence to the contrary.

The authors hint that our mistake might have its roots in dominant metaphors of memory. If we now understand the mind as computer-like, we will see memories as digital traces that sit, silent and unchanging, in a vast storage system.

“Many of the catastrophic consequences of memory distortion arise not because our individual memories are terrible,” they argue, “but because we have unrealistic expectations about how memory works, treating it as a video camera rather than a reconstruction.”

In earlier times, when memory was likened to a telephone switchboard or to books or, for the ancient Greeks, to wax tablets, memory errors and erasures may have seemed less surprising and more tolerable.

These shifting technological analogies, explored historically in Douwe Draaisma’s Metaphors of Memory, may partly account for our extravagant expectations for memory. Expecting silicon chip performance from carbon-based organisms, who evolved to care more about adaptation than truth, would be foolish.

But there is surely more to this than metaphor. All aspects of our lives are increasingly recorded and datafied, a process that demands objectivity, accuracy and consistency. The recorded facts of the matter determine who should be rewarded, punished and regulated. The bounded and mutable nature of human memory presents a challenge to this digital regime.

Human memory is also increasingly taxed by the overwhelming and accelerating volume of information that assails us. Our frustration with its limitations reflects the desperate mismatch we feel between human nature and the impersonal systems of data in which we live.

Greene and Murphy urge us to relax. We should be humbler about our memory, and more realistic and forgiving about the memories of others. We should not be judgemental about the errors and inconsistencies of friends, or overconfident about our own recollections. And we should remember that, although memory is fallible, it is fallible in beneficial ways.

A person whose memory system always kept an accurate record of our lives would be profoundly impaired, Greene and Murphy argue. Such a person “would struggle to plan for the future, learn from the past, or respond flexibly to unexpected events”. Brimming with insights such as these, Memory Lane offers an informative and readable account of how the apparent weaknesses of human memory may be strengths in disguise.

Nick Haslam receives funding from the Australian Research Council.

– ref. Our memories are unreliable, limited and suggestible – and it’s a good thing too – https://theconversation.com/our-memories-are-unreliable-limited-and-suggestible-and-its-a-good-thing-too-258682

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Thomas J. Derrick, Gale Research Fellow in Ancient Glass and Material Culture, Macquarie University

The roar of the arena crowd, the bustle of the Roman forum, the grand temples, the Roman army in red with glistening shields and armour – when people imagine ancient Rome, they often think of its sights and sounds. We know less, however, about the scents of ancient Rome.

We cannot, of course, go back and sniff to find out. But the literary texts, physical remains of structures, objects, and environmental evidence (such as plants and animals) can offer clues.

So what might ancient Rome have smelled like?

Honestly, often pretty rank

In describing the smells of plants, author and naturalist Pliny the Elder uses words such as iucundus (agreeable), acutus (pungent), vis (strong), or dilutus (weak).

None of that language is particularly evocative in its power to transport us back in time, unfortunately.

But we can probably safely assume that, in many areas, Rome was likely pretty dirty and rank-smelling. Property owners did not commonly connect their toilets to the sewers in large Roman towns and cities – perhaps fearing rodent incursions or odours.

Roman sewers were more like storm drains, and served to take standing water away from public areas.

Professionals collected faeces for fertiliser and urine for cloth processing from domestic and public latrines and cesspits. Chamber pots were also used, which could later be dumped in cesspits.

This waste disposal process was just for those who could afford to live in houses; many lived in small, non-domestic spaces, barely furnished apartments, or on the streets.

A common whiff in the Roman city would have come from the animals and the waste they created. Roman bakeries frequently used large lava stone mills (or “querns”) turned by mules or donkeys. Then there was the smell of pack animals and livestock being brought into town for slaughter or sale.

The large “stepping-stones” still seen in the streets of Pompeii were likely so people could cross streets and avoid the assorted feculence that covered the paving stones.

Disposal of corpses (animals and human) was not formulaic. Depending on the class of the person who had died, people might well have been left out in the open without cremation or burial.

Bodies, potentially decaying, were a more common sight in ancient Rome than now.

Suetonius, writing in the first century CE, famously wrote of a dog carrying a severed human hand to the dining table of the Emperor Vespasian.

Deodorants and toothpastes

In a world devoid of today’s modern scented products – and daily bathing by most of the population – ancient Roman settlements would have smelt of body odour.

Classical literature has some recipes for toothpaste and even deodorants.

However, many of the deodorants were to be used orally (chewed or swallowed) to stop one’s armpits smelling.

One was made by boiling golden thistle root in fine wine to induce urination (which was thought to flush out odour).

The Roman baths would likely not have been as hygienic as they may appear to tourists visiting today. A small tub in a public bath could hold between eight and 12 bathers.

The Romans had soap, but it wasn’t commonly used for personal hygiene. Olive oil (including scented oil) was preferred. It was scraped off the skin with a strigil (a bronze curved tool).

This oil and skin combination was then discarded (maybe even slung at a wall). Baths had drains – but as oil and water don’t mix, it was likely pretty grimy.

Scented perfumes

The Romans did have perfumes and incense.

The invention of glassblowing in the late first century BCE (likely in Roman-controlled Jerusalem) made glass readily available, and glass perfume bottles are a common archaeological find.

Animal and plant fats were infused with scents – such as rose, cinnamon, iris, frankincense and saffron – and were mixed with medicinal ingredients and pigments.

The roses of Paestum in Campania (southern Italy) were particularly prized, and a perfume shop has even been excavated in the city’s Roman forum.

The trading power of the vast Roman empire meant spices could be sourced from India and the surrounding regions.

There were warehouses for storing spices such as pepper, cinnamon and myrrh in the centre of Rome.

In a recent Oxford Journal of Archaeology article, researcher Cecilie Brøns writes that even ancient statues could be perfumed with scented oils.

Sources frequently do not describe the smell of perfumes used to anoint the statues, but a predominantly rose-based perfume is specifically mentioned for this purpose in inscriptions from the Greek city of Delos (at which archaeologists have also identified perfume workshops). Beeswax was likely added to perfumes as a stabiliser.

Enhancing the scent of statues (particularly those of gods and goddesses) with perfumes and garlands was important in their veneration and worship.

An olfactory onslaught

The ancient city would have smelt like human waste, wood smoke, rotting and decay, cremating flesh, cooking food, perfumes and incense, and many other things.

It sounds awful to a modern person, but it seems the Romans did not complain about the smell of the ancient city that much.

Perhaps, as historian Neville Morley has suggested, to them these were the smells of home or even of the height of civilisation.

Thomas J. Derrick 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. What did ancient Rome smell like? Honestly, often pretty rank – https://theconversation.com/what-did-ancient-rome-smell-like-honestly-often-pretty-rank-257111

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Bonnie Clough, Senior Lecturer, School of Applied Psychology, Griffith University

People with poor mental health face many challenges. One that’s perhaps lesser known is that they’re more likely than the overall population to have poor oral health.

Research has shown people with serious mental illness are four times more likely than the general population to have gum disease. They’re nearly three times more likely to have lost all their teeth due to problems such as gum disease and tooth decay.

Serious mental illnesses include major depressive disorder, bipolar disorder and psychotic disorders such as schizophrenia. These conditions affect about 800,000 Australians.

People living with schizophrenia have, on average, eight more teeth that are decayed, missing or filled than the general population.

So why does this link exist? And what can we do to address the problem?

Why is this a problem?

Oral health problems are expensive to fix and can make it hard for people to eat, socialise, work or even just smile.

What’s more, dental issues can land people in hospital. Our research shows dental conditions are the third most common reason for preventable hospital admissions among people with serious mental illness.

Meanwhile, poor oral health is linked with long-term health conditions such as diabetes, heart disease, some cancers, and even cognitive problems. This is because the bacteria associated with gum diseases can cause inflammation throughout the body, which affects other systems in the body.

Why are mental health and oral health linked?

Poor mental and oral health share common risk factors. Social factors such as isolation, unemployment and housing insecurity can worsen both oral and mental health.

For example, unemployment increases the risk of oral disease. This can be due to financial difficulties, reduced access to oral health care, or potential changes to diet and hygiene practices.

At the same time, oral disease can increase barriers to finding employment, due to stigma, discrimination, dental pain and associated long-term health conditions.

It’s clear the relationship between oral health and mental health goes both ways. Dental disease can reduce self-esteem and increase psychological distress. Meanwhile, symptoms of mental health conditions, such as low motivation, can make engaging in good oral health practices, including brushing, flossing, and visiting the dentist, more difficult.

And like many people, those with serious mental illness can experience significant anxiety about going to the dentist. They may also have experienced trauma in the past, which can make visiting a dental clinic a frightening experience.

Separately, poor oral health can be made worse by some medications for mental health conditions. Certain medications can interfere with saliva production, reducing the protective barrier that covers the teeth. Some may also increase sugar cravings, which heightens the risk of tooth decay.

Our research

In a recent study, we interviewed young people with mental illness. Our findings show the significant personal costs of dental disease among people with mental illness, and highlight the relationship between oral and mental health.

Smiling is one of our best ways to communicate, but we found people with serious mental illness were sometimes embarrassed and ashamed to smile due to poor oral health.

One participant told us:

[poor oral health is] not only [about] the physical aspects of restricting how you eat, but it’s also about your mental health in terms of your self-esteem, your self-confidence, and basic wellbeing, which sort of drives me to become more isolated.

Another said:

for me, it was that serious fear of – God my teeth are looking really crap, and in the past they’ve [dental practitioners] asked, “Hey, you’ve missed this spot; what’s happening?”. How do I explain to them, hey, I’ve had some really shitty stuff happening and I have a very serious episode of depression?

What can we do?

Another of our recent studies focused on improving oral health awareness and behaviours among young adults experiencing mental health difficulties. We found a brief online oral health education program improved participants’ oral health knowledge and attitudes.

Improving oral health can result in improved mental wellbeing, self-esteem and quality of life. But achieving this isn’t always easy.

Limited Medicare coverage for dental care means oral diseases are frequently treated late, particularly among people with mental illness. By this time, more invasive treatments, such as removal of teeth, are often required.

It’s crucial the health system takes a holistic approach to caring for people experiencing serious mental illness. That means we have mental health staff who ask questions about oral health, and dental practitioners who are trained to manage the unique oral health needs of people with serious mental illness.

It also means increasing government funding for oral health services – promotion, prevention and improved interdisciplinary care. This includes better collaboration between oral health, mental health, and peer and informal support sectors.

Amanda Wheeler is an investigator on a MetroSouth Health 2025 grant exploring use of Queensland Emergency Departments for people with mental ill-health seeking acute care for oral health problems.

Steve Kisely has received a grant on oral health from Metro South Research Foundation and one from the Medical Research Future Fund.

Bonnie Clough, Caroline Victoria Robertson, and Santosh Tadakamadla 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. Gum disease, decay, missing teeth: why people with mental illness have poorer oral health – https://theconversation.com/gum-disease-decay-missing-teeth-why-people-with-mental-illness-have-poorer-oral-health-258403

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Tom Lee, Senior Lecturer, School of Design, University of Technology Sydney

Australian farms are at the forefront of a wave of technological change coming to agriculture. Over the past decade, more than US$200 billion (A$305 billion) has been invested globally into the likes of pollination robots, smart soil sensors and artificial intelligence (AI) systems to help make decisions.

What do the people working the land make of it all? We interviewed dozens of Australian farmers about AI and digital technology, and found they had a sophisticated understanding of their own needs and how technology might help – as well as a wariness of tech companies’ utopian promises.

The future of farming

The supposed revolution coming to agriculture goes by several names: “precision agriculture”, “smart farming”, and “agriculture 4.0” are some of the more common ones.

These names all gesture towards a future in which the relationships between humans, computing and nature have been significantly reconfigured. Perhaps remote sensing technology will monitor ever more of a farm system, autonomous vehicles will patrol it, and AI will predict crop growth or cattle weight gain.

But there’s another story to tell about the way technological change happens. It involves people and communities creating their own future, their own sense of important change from the past.

AI, country style

Our research team conducted more than 35 interviews with farmers, specifically livestock producers, from across Australia.

The dominant themes of their responses were captured in two pithy quotes: “shit in, shit out” and “more automation, less features”.

“Shit in, shit out” is an earthier version of the “garbage in, garbage out” adage in computer science. If the data going into a model is unreliable or overly abstract, then the outputs will be shaped by those errors.

This captured a real concern for many farmers. They didn’t feel they could trust new technologies if they didn’t understand what knowledge and information they had been built with.

A different kind of automation

On the other hand, “more automation, less features” is what farmers want: technologies that may not have a lot of bells and whistles, but can reliably take a task off their hands.

Australian farmers have a ready appetite for labour-saving technologies. When human bodies are scarce, as they often are in rural Australia, machines are created to fill the void.

Windmills, wire fences, and even the iconic Australian sheepdog have been a crucial part of the technological narrative of settler colonial farming. These things are not “autonomous” in the same way as computer-powered vehicles and drones, but they offer similar advantages to farmers.

What these classic farm technologies have in common is a simplicity that derives from a clarity of purpose. They are the opposite of the “everything apps” that fuel the dreams of many Silicon Valley entrepreneurs.

“More automation, less features” is in this sense a farmer envisaging a digital product that fits with their image of a useful technology: transparent in its operations, and a reliable replacement for or an addition to human labour.

The lesson of the Suzuki Sierra Stockman

When speaking with one farmer about favoured technologies of her lifetime, she mentioned the Suzuki Sierra Stockman. These small, no-frills, four-wheel-drive vehicles became something of an icon on Australian sheep and cattle farms through the 1970s, ‘80s and ’90s.

Reflecting on her memories of first using the vehicle, the farmer said:

Once I learnt that I could actually draft cattle out with the Suzuki, that changed everything. You could do exactly what you did on a horse with a vehicle.

It seems unlikely that Suzuki’s engineers in Japan envisaged their little jeep chasing cattle in the paddocks of Central West of NSW. The Suzuki was in a sense remade by farmers who found innovative uses for it.

Future technology must be simple, adaptable and reliable

The combustion engine was a key technological change on farms in the 20th century. Computers may play a similar role in the 21st.

We are perhaps yet to see a digital product as iconic as wire fences, windmills, sheepdogs and the Suzuki Stockman. Computers are still largely technologies of the office, not the paddock.

However, this is changing as computers get smaller and are wired into water tanks, soil monitors and in-paddock scales. More data input from these sensors means AI systems have more scope to help farmers make decisions.

AI may well become a much-loved tool for farmers. But that journey to iconic status will depend as much on how farmers adapt the technology as on how the developers build it. And we can guess at what it will look like: simple, adaptable and reliable.

This article is based on research conducted by the Foragecaster project, led by AgriWebb and supported by funding from Food Agility CRC Ltd, funded under the Commonwealth Government CRC Program. The CRC Program supports industry-led collaborations between industry, researchers and the community. This project was also supported by funding from Meat and Livestock Australia (MLA).

– ref. ‘Shit in, shit out’: AI is coming for agriculture, but farmers aren’t convinced – https://theconversation.com/shit-in-shit-out-ai-is-coming-for-agriculture-but-farmers-arent-convinced-259997

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Edward Doddridge, Senior Research Associate in Physical Oceanography, University of Tasmania

On her first dedicated scientific voyage to Antarctica in March, the Australian icebreaker RSV Nuyina found the area sea-ice free. Scientists were able to reach places never sampled before.

Over the past four summers, Antarctic sea ice extent has hit new lows.

I’m part of a large group of scientists who set out to explore the consequences of summer sea ice loss after the record lows of 2022 and 2023. Together we rounded up the latest publications, then gathered new evidence using satellites, computer modelling, and robotic ocean sampling devices. Today we can finally reveal what we found.

It’s bad news on many levels, because Antarctic sea ice is vital for the world’s climate and ecosystems. But we need to get a grip on what’s happening – and use this concerning data to prompt faster action on climate change.

What we did and what we found

Our team used a huge range of approaches to study the consequences of sea ice loss.

We used satellites to understand sea ice loss over summer, measuring everything from ice thickness and extent to the length of time each year when sea ice is absent.

Satellite data was also used to calculate how much of the Antarctic coast was exposed to open ocean waves. We were then able to quantify the relationship between sea ice loss and iceberg calving.

Data from free-drifting ocean robots was used to understand how sea ice loss affects the tiny plants that support the marine food web.

Every other kind of available data was then harnessed to explore the full impact of sea ice changes on ecosystems.

Voyage reports from international colleagues came in handy when studying how sea ice loss affected Antarctic resupply missions.

We also used computer models to simulate the impact of dramatic summer sea ice loss on the ocean.

In summary, our extensive research reveals four key consequences of summer sea ice loss in Antarctica.

1. Ocean warming is compounding

Bright white sea ice reflects about 90% of the incoming energy from sunlight, while the darker ocean absorbs about 90%. So if there’s less summer sea ice, the ocean absorbs much more heat.

This means the ocean surface warms more in an extreme low sea ice year, such as 2016 – when everything changed.

Until recently, the Southern Ocean would reset over winter. If there was a summer with low sea ice cover, the ocean would warm a bit. But over winter, the extra heat would shift into the atmosphere.

That’s not working anymore. We know this from measuring sea surface temperatures, but we have also confirmed this relationship using computer models.

What’s happening instead is when summer sea ice is very low, as in 2016, it triggers ocean warming that persists. It takes about three years for the system to fully recover. But recovery is becoming less and less likely, given warming is building from year to year.

2. More icebergs are forming

Sea ice protects Antarctica’s coast from ocean waves.

On average, about a third of the continent’s coastline is exposed over summer. But this is changing. In 2022 and 2023, more than half of the Antarctic coast was exposed.

Our research shows more icebergs break away from Antarctic ice sheets in years with less sea ice. During an average summer, about 100 icebergs break away. Summers with low sea ice produce about twice as many icebergs.

3. Wildlife squeezed off the ice

Many species of seals and penguins rely on sea ice, especially for breeding and moulting.

Entire colonies of emperor penguins experienced “catastrophic breeding failure” in 2022, when sea ice melted before chicks were ready to go to sea.

After giving birth, crabeater seals need large, stable sea ice platforms for 2–3 weeks until their pups are weaned. The ice provides shelter and protection from predators. Less summer sea-ice cover makes large platforms harder to find.

Many seal and penguin species also take refuge on the sea ice when moulting. These species must avoid the icy water while their new feathers or fur grows, or risk dying of hypothermia.

4. Logistical challenges at the end of the world

Low summer sea ice makes it harder for people working in Antarctica. Shrinking summer sea ice will narrow the time window during which Antarctic bases can be resupplied over the ice. These bases may soon need to be resupplied from different locations, or using more difficult methods such as small boats.

No longer safe

Anarctic sea ice began to change rapidly in 2015 and 2016. Since then it has remained well below the long-term average.

The dataset we use relies on measurements from US Department of Defense satellites. Late last month, the department announced it would no longer provide this data to the scientific community. While this has since been delayed to July 31, significant uncertainty remains.

One of the biggest challenges in climate science is gathering and maintaining consistent long-term datasets. Without these, we don’t accurately know how much our climate is changing. Observing the entire Earth is hard enough when we all work together. It’s going to be almost impossible if we don’t share our data.

Recent low sea ice summers present a scientific challenge. The system is currently changing faster than our scientific community can study it.

But vanishing sea ice also presents a challenge to society. The only way to prevent even more drastic changes in the future is to rapidly transition away from fossil fuels and reach net zero emissions.

Edward Doddridge receives funding from the Australian Research Council.

– ref. Antarctic summer sea ice is at record lows. Here’s how it will harm the planet – and us – https://theconversation.com/antarctic-summer-sea-ice-is-at-record-lows-heres-how-it-will-harm-the-planet-and-us-256104

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Reza Shabahang, Research Fellow in Human Cybersecurity, Monash University and Academic Researcher in Media Psychology, Flinders University

If you’re feeling like the news is particularly bad at the moment, you’re not alone.

But many of us can’t look away – and don’t want to. Engaging with news can help us make sense of what’s going on and, for many of us, is an ethical stance.

So, how can you also take care of your mental health? Here’s how to balance staying informed with the impact negative news can have on our wellbeing.

Why am I feeling so affected by the news?

Our brains are wired to prioritise safety and survival, and respond rapidly to danger. Repeatedly activating such processes by consuming distressing news content – often called doomscrolling – can be mentally draining.

Unfiltered or uncensored images can have an especially powerful psychological impact. Graphic footage of tragedies circulating on social media may have a stronger effect than traditional media (such as television and newspapers) which are more regulated.

Research shows consuming negative news is linked to lower wellbeing and psychological difficulties, such as anxiety and feelings of uncertainty and insecurity. It can make us feel more pessimistic towards ourselves, other people, humanity and life in general.

In some cases, consuming a lot of distressing news can even cause vicarious trauma. This means you may experience post-traumatic stress symptoms such as flashbacks and trouble sleeping despite not being directly involved in the traumatic events.

But this doesn’t stop us seeking it out. In fact, we are more likely to read, engage with, and share stories that are negative.

Is there a better way to consume news?

Switching off may not be an option for everyone.

For example, if you have friends or family in areas affected by conflict, you may be especially concerned and following closely to see how they’re affected.

Even without personal ties to the conflict, many people want to stay informed and understand what is unfolding. For some, this is a moral decision which they feel may lead to action and positive change.

This is why, in research I co-authored, we suggest simply restricting your exposure to negative news is not always possible or practical.

Instead, we recommend engaging more mindfully with news. This means paying attention to shifts in your emotions, noticing how the news makes you feel, and slowing down when needed.

How to consume news more mindfully

When you plan to engage with news, there are some steps you can take.

1. Pause and take a few deep breaths. Take a moment to observe how your body is feeling and what your mind is doing.

2. Check in. Are you feeling tense? What else do you have going on today? Maybe you’re already feeling worried or emotionally stretched. Think about whether you’re feeling equipped to process negative news right now.

3. Reflect. What is motivating you to engage right now? What are you trying to find out?

4. Stay critical. As you read an article or watch a video, pay attention to how credible the source is, the level of detail provided and where the information comes from.

5. Tune into how it’s making you feel. Do you notice any physical signs of stress, such as tension, sweating or restlessness?

6. Take time. Before quickly moving on to another piece of news, allow yourself to process the information you’ve received as well as your response. Has it changed your emotions, thoughts or attitudes? Did it fulfil your intention? Do you still have energy to engage with more news?

It may not always be possible to take all these steps. But engaging more mindfully before, during and after you’re exposed to negative news can help you make more informed decisions about how and when to consume it – and when to take a break.

Signs the news is affecting your mental health

If you’re feeling emotionally overwhelmed, you’re more likely to have an automatic and emotion-driven response to what you’re reading or watching.

Signs your negative news consumption may be affecting your mental health include:

• compulsive engagement, feeling like you can’t stop checking or following negative news

• experiencing feelings of despair, hopelessness, or lack of motivation

• feeling irritable

• difficulty concentrating

• fatigue

• strong physical symptoms (such as an upset stomach)

• trouble sleeping

• an increase in rash or risky behaviours, or behaviours you don’t usually display when you’re calm, such as panic shopping and hoarding following news about bad events.

What should I do when I’m feeling upset?

First, take a break. This could be a few minutes or a few days – as long as it takes you to feel emotionally steady and ready to re-engage with negative news.

You might find it useful to reflect by writing down observations about how news is making you feel, and keeping track of intense fluctuations in emotions.

It can also be helpful to connect with supportive people around you and do activities you enjoy. Spending time outdoors and doing hands-on tasks, such as gardening, painting or sewing, can be particularly helpful when you’re feeling anxious or emotional.

But if you’re feeling overwhelmed and it’s affecting your work, life or relationships, it’s a good idea to seek professional help.

In Australia, the government provides free mental health support at walk-in Medicare Mental Health Centres, Kids Hubs or via phone.

Other free resources – including a symptom checker and links to online chat support – are available at Health Direct.

---

If this article has raised issues for you, or if you’re concerned about someone you know, call Lifeline on 13 11 14.

Reza Shabahang 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. Distressed by all the bad news? Here’s how to stay informed but still look after yourself – https://theconversation.com/distressed-by-all-the-bad-news-heres-how-to-stay-informed-but-still-look-after-yourself-259913

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Marika Sosnowski, Postdoctoral research fellow, The University of Melbourne

Hopes are rising that Israel and Hamas could be inching closer to a ceasefire in the 20-month war in Gaza.

US President Donald Trump is urging progress, taking to social media to demand:

MAKE THE DEAL IN GAZA. GET THE HOSTAGES BACK!!!

Trump further raised expectations, saying there could be an agreement between Israel and Hamas “within the next week”.

But what are the prospects for a genuine, lasting ceasefire in Gaza?

Ceasefires are generally complicated to negotiate because they need to take into account competing demands and pressures. They usually (but not always) require both sides to compromise.

Gaza is no exception. In a conflict that has been going on for more than 70 years, compromise and concession have become a game of cat and mouse.

Israel is the cat that holds the military strength and the majority of the political power. Hamas is the mouse that can dart and delay, but in the end has little choice but to accept the terms of a ceasefire if it wants to halt the violence currently being inflicted on Palestinians.

Trump the peacemaker?

Trump appears buoyed by what he perceives as the recent success of his efforts to broker a truce in the Israel–Iran war. He may think he can use similar tactics to pressure Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu into making a ceasefire deal for Gaza.

Netanyahu will return to Washington next week for talks at the White House. This is a good sign some US pressure is being brought to bear.

Trump’s current push for a Gaza ceasefire may also signal he is keen for a return to the normalisation of economic ties previously delivered by the Abraham Accords between Israel and various Arab states. A ceasefire could unlock frozen regional relationships, potentially boosting the US economy (and Trump’s own personal wealth).

Israeli opportunities

Another positive sign a ceasefire may be on the cards is Netanyahu’s recent comments that the war with Iran had created opportunities for Israel in Gaza.

During its 12-day war with Iran, Israel assassinated 30 Iranian security chiefs and 11 nuclear scientists. Iran’s weakened security apparatus might disrupt its support for Hamas and help advance Israeli objectives.

Similar to what happened in Iran, this might enable Netanyahu to publicly declare Israeli victory in Gaza and agree to a ceasefire without losing face or political backing from his government’s right wing.

Domestic Israeli politics have also played a role in the Gaza ceasefire negotiations. As part of the current round, Trump reportedly demanded the cancellation of Netanyahu’s ongoing trial on corruption charges. The idea is to enable Netanyahu to reach a ceasefire without the threat of criminal conviction, and potentially prison, awaiting him afterwards.

Given there are no political or legal prescriptions or rules around what terms need to be included in a ceasefire, it is possible for such a demand to be made, although it is unclear how it would be accommodated by Israeli law.

Difficult terms

The current ceasefire deal, as proposed by Qatar and Egypt, seems to pick up where the deal negotiated in January fell apart – with a 60-day ceasefire.

Reports suggest it requires Hamas’ leadership to go into exile and that four Arab states, including the United Arab Emirates and Egypt, would be tasked with jointly governing Gaza.

Hamas has said for many months that it is open to a
more permanent ceasefire deal that Israel has so far refused. However, the proposed terms appear too far-reaching to make it likely Hamas would accept them in their current form.

The uptick in Israel’s military bombardment, as well as recent evacuation orders for parts of northern Gaza, suggest that even if there is a deal it may well mean Israel retains permanent territorial control of the northern Gaza Strip.

As part of any ceasefire, it also seems likely Israel would retain control over all Gaza crossings.

This, and the ongoing highly problematic promotion by Israel and the United States of the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation as the only organisation authorised to deliver and administer aid in Gaza, will be difficult for Hamas, and Palestinians, to accept.

There have also been reports a deal would enable Gazans wishing to emigrate to be absorbed by several as-yet-unnamed countries. Such a term would continue the Trump administration’s earlier calls for the forced displacement of Palestinians from Gaza, as well as Israel’s insistence such displacement would be a humanitarian initiative rather than a war crime.

It would also not be the first time the terms of a ceasefire were used to forcibly displace civilian populations.

Hope for the future?

Many dynamics are wrapped up in getting to a ceasefire in Gaza.

They include US allyship and pressure, domestic Israeli politics, and the recent war between Israel and Iran. There is also the international opprobrium of Israel’s actions in Gaza which, for public (if not legal) purposes, amount to a genocide.

Ideally, any negotiated ceasefire would have detailed terms to ensure the parties know what they should do and when. Detailed terms would also enable international actors and other third parties to denounce any violations of the deal.

However, a ceasefire would only ever be a short-term win. In the best case, it would enable a reduction in violence and an increase of aid into Gaza, and the release of Israeli hostages and Palestinian prisoners.

However, amid the deep-seated sense of injustice and anxiety in the region, any ceasefire that does not address historic oppression and is forced on the parties would inevitably have deleterious consequences in the months and years to come.

Marika Sosnowski 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. Trump demands an end to the war in Gaza – could a ceasefire be close? – https://theconversation.com/trump-demands-an-end-to-the-war-in-gaza-could-a-ceasefire-be-close-260185

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Tara-Lyn Camilleri, Postdoctoral researcher of transgenerational effects, Monash University

As war continues to rage in Gaza and Ukraine, there is concern about how the related trauma might be transmitted to future generations of people in those regions.

More generally, interest in the idea of transgenerational trauma has recently surged. For example, earlier this year, National Geographic magazine asked whether genes carry past family trauma.

But while this might be a catchy question, it’s also slightly misleading. Because while trauma can ripple across generations, shaped by how our bodies respond to their environments, its effects aren’t hard-coded in our genes.

Plastic minds and bodies

At the heart of this process is what’s known as phenotypic plasticity.

This is the capacity for organisms to produce different outcomes from the same genes, depending on their environment. These outcomes, called phenotypes, can include stress sensitivity and body shape.

One way different phenotypes can arise from the same genes is via epigenetics: small chemical changes to the DNA molecule that make particular genes more or less active. Think of these like a director’s notes on a script. These notes guide the cell on which lines to emphasise or soften, without changing the script itself.

But epigenetics is just one way this plasticity is expressed.

Understanding how trauma is passed across generations means looking beyond genes and cells to the environments that shape and influence them.

Human development is sculpted by lived experience, from caregiving and community to stress, safety and belonging.

These factors interact to produce lasting – but not always fixed – effects. By focusing on how they interact, rather than on single causes, we can better understand why trauma echoes across generations. This also helps us identify how that cycle might be disrupted.

Widespread in nature

Phenotypic plasticity is widespread in nature.

In honeybees, genetically identical larvae become queens or workers depending on what they eat while developing. In three-spined stickleback fish, early exposure to predators reshapes their stress physiology and body shape, making them harder for predators to grasp.

These aren’t genetic differences – they’re environmental effects on development.

In humans, early-life conditions similarly shape development. A child raised in an unsafe setting may develop heightened vigilance or stress sensitivity – traits that help in danger but can persist as anxiety or chronic stress in times of safety. This is known as environmental mismatch.

Across generations, plasticity becomes more complicated. In some of my past research, I studied how diet in one generation of fruit flies shaped health, reproduction and longevity in their offspring and grand offspring.

The results varied depending on diet, generation and trait. Traits that appeared to be useful in one generation weren’t always so in the next. This highlights how difficult transgenerational effects are to predict – precisely because of this plasticity.

Too narrow an explanation

Epigenetics often reflect environmental exposures – such as stress, trauma, nutrition or caregiving. But they’re not necessarily permanent “scars”. Many are dynamic and can shift with changing environments – especially early in life.

Studies show that epigenetic patterns linked to early childhood adversity vary depending on later environments such as family stability and social support. This suggests the biological imprint of early stress is shaped by what happens next.

It’s tempting to treat epigenetics as the key to explaining inherited trauma – but that’s too narrow. Trauma can influence the next generation through altered hormones, immune function or in utero conditions – all of which shape brain development and stress reactivity.

Genetic variation also plays a major role. It doesn’t encode trauma itself, but it shapes traits such as sensitivity to threat or emotional regulation. These traits aren’t chosen – they arise from a web of biological and social influences beyond our control.

But how they unfold, and whether they’re amplified or softened, depends on the systems that surround us.

Connection to culture

Connection to culture plays an important role too.

In Aotearoa New Zealand, Māori-led initiatives that centre land, language and whakapapa (ancestral lineage) have shown promise in restoring wellbeing after generations of colonisation-related trauma.

For Holocaust survivors and descendants, connection to cultural identity through ritual and shared narrative can reduce the psychological burden of transmitted trauma.

But not all trauma is collective or institutional. Interventions such as trauma-informed parenting and early relational therapies have been shown to improve outcomes in the next generation.

These psychological supports affect biology. Feeling safe in our relationships, having stable routines and a sense of meaning can reduce stress hormones, modulate immune function, and buffer against long-term disease risk.

In this way, culture, caregiving and connection are all biological interventions. When they soften the effects of earlier stress, they may help interrupt its transmission.

Reframing inherited vulnerability

This matters, because it changes how we understand inherited vulnerability.

Rather than a permanent wound passed down through DNA, the effects of trauma are better understood as changeable responses shaped by context.

Thanks to plasticity, our biology is always in conversation with the environment – and when we change the context, we can change the outcome.

Tara-Lyn Camilleri receives funding from from Australian Graduate Women, a not-for-profit organisation that advocates for education and supports women in postgraduate education with scholarships. Her research has also been supported by Australian Research Council grants and Royal Society funding. She is a volunteer committee member for Graduate Women Victoria.

– ref. Trauma is carried in your DNA. But science reveals a more complicated story – https://theconversation.com/trauma-is-carried-in-your-dna-but-science-reveals-a-more-complicated-story-259057