Pensar en la tecnología para que no nos domine en la calle… ni en la oficina

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Ismael Sánchez-Herrera Bautista-Cámara, Profesor de Universidad Nebrija, Consultor de Cultura Preventiva en Vítaly, Universidad Nebrija

Pasajeros en el metro de Barcelona. Yevheniia Kozhenkova/Shutterstock

El sol de verano en Viena iluminaba el reloj Anker mientras una multitud, absorta, levantaba sus móviles. La obsesión no era vivir el instante, sino fotografiarlo, capturarlo en un gesto digital que prometía inmortalizar un presente fugaz.

Un reloj y muchas personas con los móviles en alto mirando para él.
Los turistas a punto de grabar el reloj Anker.
Alexey Smyshlyaev

Aquella escena, repetida en cada rincón de mi viaje por Austria, fue el inicio de una reflexión. Los veranos, como decía el antropólogo francés Claude Lévi-Strauss, despiertan al etnólogo que todos llevamos dentro. Pero en un mundo atravesado por la digitalización, el etnólogo ya no solo observa tribus lejanas: observa la nuestra, en la calle y, por extensión, en la oficina.

Aquel viaje se convirtió en un laboratorio social a cielo abierto. Empecé a ver las dinámicas que moldean nuestras organizaciones en los gestos más cotidianos: en la forma en que consultamos el móvil, en las modas que seguimos, en nuestros rituales urbanos. Comprendí que para entender la cultura de una empresa hoy, primero hay que entender la cultura de la calle.

El mapa roto de Geertz

Nuestra primera brújula en este viaje es el también antropólogo estadounidense Clifford Geertz. En su obra magna, La interpretación de las culturas, nos enseñó que la cultura es el mapa colectivo que nos permite orientarnos en el mundo. Pero ¿qué ocurre cuando el territorio cambia más rápido que el mapa? La tecnología digital ha creado un nuevo continente para el que nuestras viejas cartas de navegación cultural no siempre sirven.

Las plataformas digitales, con sus diseños persuasivos, explotan nuestro sistema de recompensas cerebrales. Cada notificación es un estímulo dopaminérgico; cada scroll infinito, un hábito compulsivo. Nuestra capacidad de concentración se deteriora. La cultura, ese gran mecanismo de adaptación colectiva, parece desbordada por artefactos diseñados para capturar nuestra atención. Lo vemos en la calle, con gente absorta en sus pantallas, y lo vemos en la oficina, con profesionales incapaces de realizar una tarea profunda sin ser interrumpidos por un torrente de alertas.

El ‘habitus’ digital de Bourdieu en el metro

El viaje termina, pero la reflexión no. De vuelta a casa, un email me invita a un focus group sobre cómo la digitalización laboral afecta a nuestra salud. Mientras viajo en el metro hacia la reunión, la imagen de la multitud de Viena se superpone a la de los pasajeros a mi alrededor, cada uno en su propia burbuja digital. Es aquí donde la figura del sociólogo francés Pierre Bourdieu se me aparece con una claridad meridiana.

Bourdieu nos habló del habitus: ese sistema de disposiciones, gestos y hábitos aprendidos, que moldea nuestra forma de actuar sin que seamos conscientes de ello. La digitalización ha creado un nuevo habitus organizacional. Contestar un email al instante, reaccionar con un emoji no son solo acciones; son gestos que configuran nuestra identidad profesional. Quien domina este nuevo lenguaje corporal digital acumula capital simbólico e influencia.

Este habitus reconfigura el poder. En empresas digitales, un ingeniero joven que documenta su trabajo con precisión en un repositorio público puede ganar más prestigio que un directivo veterano menos hábil en la comunicación asíncrona. La autoridad ya no emana solo del cargo, sino de la capacidad de generar valor en los nuevos “campos” digitales.

Las nuevas tribus de Lévi-Strauss

Si Bourdieu nos ayuda a entender los gestos, Lévi-Strauss nos permite descifrar la gramática subyacente. Él nos recordó que las culturas se estructuran en oposiciones binarias. La era digital ha creado las suyas propias: síncrono frente a asíncrono, canal público frente a mensaje privado, cámara encendida frente a apagada.

De estas tensiones nacen los nuevos rituales que dan cohesión a las tribus organizacionales. Revisión matutina de redes, y sus correspondientes me gusta, rondas virtuales de estado de ánimo o las celebraciones con GIFs son los tótems y ceremonias de nuestro tiempo. Son gestos mínimos que, en un entorno de trabajo distribuido, refuerzan la pertenencia colectiva y nos recuerdan que, a pesar de la distancia, formamos parte de algo compartido.

La disonancia de Schein y el fantasma de Han

El relato podría terminar aquí, en una visión optimista de la adaptación cultural. Pero entonces al escribir el artículo se me aparece el psicólogo estadounidense Edgar Schein, quien nos advierte que la cultura opera en tres niveles: los artefactos (lo que vemos), los valores (lo que decimos) y los supuestos básicos (lo que realmente creemos). Y es aquí donde surge el conflicto.

Nuestros artefactos son las plataformas colaborativas y las métricas de rendimiento. Nuestros valores declarados hablan de agilidad, bienestar y desconexión digital. Sin embargo, el supuesto básico no ha cambiado: seguimos premiando la disponibilidad constante y la hiperconexión. Esta disonancia es la receta para el cinismo y el agotamiento.

Y es entonces cuando el fantasma de Byung-Chul Han, reciente Premio Princesa de Asturias de Comunicación y Humanidades, recorre las oficinas. En La sociedad del cansancio, el filósofo coreano-alemán lanza una advertencia brutal: el sujeto de rendimiento del siglo XXI ya no necesita un jefe que lo explote; se explota a sí mismo. La digitalización es el amplificador perfecto de esta dinámica. Cada notificación nos recuerda que siempre podríamos –y deberíamos– estar haciendo más. Lo que se nos vende como autonomía se convierte en una jaula de autoexigencia que conduce a la fatiga, la ansiedad y la pérdida de sentido.

Liderar es diseñar la cultura

El viaje que empezó en Austria termina con una revelación. La transformación digital no es un proyecto tecnológico; es un profundo desafío cultural. La ansiedad de los turistas por capturar un instante es la misma que la del empleado por responder un email fuera de horario.

Liderar hoy ya no consiste solo en gestionar recursos o implantar herramientas. La verdadera tarea del liderazgo es convertirse en un diseñador de cultura. Significa leer los símbolos que emergen, cuidar los rituales que unen y, sobre todo, proteger el tiempo y la salud de las personas. Implica alinear los artefactos, los valores y los supuestos para que la tecnología se convierta en un lenguaje de confianza y pertenencia, y no en un dispositivo de cansancio permanente. Porque, como nos recuerdan los filósofos, solo tenemos salud y tiempo. Olvidarlo es el verdadero riesgo en la actualidad.


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The Conversation

Ismael Sánchez-Herrera Bautista-Cámara 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. Pensar en la tecnología para que no nos domine en la calle… ni en la oficina – https://theconversation.com/pensar-en-la-tecnologia-para-que-no-nos-domine-en-la-calle-ni-en-la-oficina-265925

No es amor, es emprendimiento

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Pau Sendra Pons, Profesor de Contabilidad, Universitat de València

Emprender despierta a menudo emociones intensas, similares a las del enamoramiento: ilusión desbordante, futuro idealizado y sensación de que todo es posible. Pero, como en el amor, dejarse llevar solo por la pasión puede nublar la visión: no todos los proyectos están destinados a despegar y no todo éxito depende únicamente del entusiasmo.

En ocasiones, el proyecto fracasa y, sin serlo, asociamos ese fracaso profesional a un fracaso personal, del mismo modo que interpretamos una ruptura amorosa como algo que pone en duda nuestra valía personal. Ni el amor todo lo puede ni, por mucho que uno se esfuerce, un proyecto emprendedor tiene garantizado su éxito.

A medida que la sociedad reconoce la importancia de la inteligencia emocional y de la construcción de relaciones verdaderamente sanas, nuestra relación con el emprendimiento también debería serlo.




Leer más:
Por qué algunos proyectos de emprendimiento no prosperan y cómo evitarlo


La ‘química’ importa, pero no lo es todo

En el emprendimiento, la química importa, pero no es un flechazo instantáneo. Aunque en ocasiones existan factores difícilmente explicables que hacen que un proyecto funcione mejor que otros, la preparación previa sigue siendo la mejor garantía de éxito.

Tomar la iniciativa, hacer frente a la incertidumbre, detectar oportunidades, emplear la creatividad, perseverar o movilizar recursos son competencias necesarias para emprender.

También lo son el autoconocimiento y la autoeficacia, que implican detenerse a analizar qué se quiere lograr con el proyecto y hasta dónde se pretende llegar, identificar con claridad sus fortalezas y debilidades y mantener la convicción de que, incluso en contextos inciertos, es posible influir en el rumbo de los acontecimientos. Por ejemplo, aprendiendo de los errores.




Leer más:
Autoconfianza y educación financiera: la combinación ganadora para el emprendimiento


Ni amar ni emprender entienden de edad

Si bien el emprendimiento entre los jóvenes de 18 a 24 años registró un notable crecimiento en 2024, pasando del 4 % al 9 %, en España, el perfil es de mayor edad que en otros países de referencia: el 40 % de los emprendedores emergentes tiene 45 años o más. Esta proporción se eleva al 63 % en el caso de los proyectos de emprendimiento ya consolidados (aquellos que han pagado salarios durante un periodo superior a los 3,5 años). Así lo constata el informe Global Entrepreneurship Monitor España de 2024-2025.

En cuanto a la relación entre edad y abandono de iniciativas emprendedoras, el mayor número de cierres y traspasos –casi 4 de cada 10– se produce entre los 45 y 54 años. Esta cifra contrasta con el abandono entre los emprendedores de 18 a 24, que apenas alcanza a 1 de cada 10.

Personas emprendedoras por edad y abandono del emprendimiento.
Fuente: Global Entrepreneurship Monitor (GEM) España 2024-2025.



Leer más:
¿Cuál es la mejor edad para emprender?


¿Qué nos enamora de emprender?

Existen diversas motivaciones que impulsan a las personas a emprender. En España, la principal sigue siendo la necesidad de ganarse la vida ante la inestabilidad en el empleo, aunque ha descendido notablemente: pasó de ser la opción elegida por el 72 % de los emprendedores emergentes en 2021 al 52 % en 2024.

La motivación de contribuir a un cambio positivo en el mundo se mantiene en torno al 40 % entre los emprendedores emergentes y al 32 % entre los consolidados. Mantener una tradición familiar impulsa al 18 % de los primeros y al 26 % de los segundos, mientras que generar riqueza o una renta elevada motiva al 39 % de los emergentes y al 32 % de los consolidados.

Motivaciones para los emprendedores emergentes (2021-2024).
Fuente: Global Entrepreneurship Monitor (GEM) España 2024-2025.

A escala mundial, las motivaciones más frecuentes son de carácter material: ganarse la vida cuando el trabajo escasea y generar riqueza o rentas elevadas. Esto es especialmente visible en países como Tailandia o Jordania, donde los ingresos son más bajos y el nivel de desarrollo más limitado.

No obstante, los emprendedores rara vez se mueven por una sola motivación. A pesar de que la intención de generar un impacto positivo en el mundo cuenta con menos consenso y varía mucho entre países, en lugares como Guatemala o India constituye una de las principales motivaciones para cerca del 80 % de los emprendedores emergentes.




Leer más:
Emprender, ¿para qué?


El duelo ante el fracaso emprendedor

Alejarse de un proyecto al que se han dedicado tantos recursos, tal como hacemos al romper una relación amorosa, exige elaborar un duelo que no siempre se reconoce ni se acompaña socialmente. Surgen pensamientos como “sin este proyecto no soy nadie”, “no me esforcé lo suficiente” o “nadie me apoyó”, y emociones como la tristeza, el miedo, la vergüenza, la culpa o la ira.

No sorprende que el miedo al fracaso sea uno de los grandes obstáculos para los emprendedores. En 2022, este temor afectaba al 43 % de ellos. Dos años después, en 2024, solo un 33 % afirmaba que el miedo a fracasar le impedía lanzarse a emprender, un porcentaje notablemente mayor que entre las personas no emprendedoras, donde alcanzaba el 55 %.

Entre hombres y mujeres, estas últimas percibían el miedo al fracaso con algo más de intensidad (un 4 % más que los hombres). Ahora bien, aunque cada vez menos personas perciben ese temor como un obstáculo, sigue siendo necesario un cambio social capaz de abrazar el error como una oportunidad de aprendizaje.




Leer más:
Aprender a fracasar será imprescindible después de la crisis


No es amor, es emprendimiento

Poner en marcha una idea de negocio tiene algunas similitudes con iniciar una relación sentimental. Pero no se trata de amor, es emprendimiento. Reconocerlo nos ayuda a mantener cierta distancia emocional respecto a la idea, gestionar el miedo al fracaso y conservar la perspectiva necesaria para aprender de los errores sin perder la motivación ni poner en riesgo nuestro bienestar.

The Conversation

Pau Sendra Pons 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. No es amor, es emprendimiento – https://theconversation.com/no-es-amor-es-emprendimiento-275466

FDA rejects Moderna’s mRNA flu vaccine application – for reasons with no basis in the law

Source: The Conversation – USA (3) – By Ana Santos Rutschman, Professor of Law, Villanova University

In December 2025, Moderna submitted an application to the FDA to approve the first mRNA-based flu vaccine. Catherine Falls Commercial/Moment via Getty Images

The Food and Drug Administration has refused to review an application from the biotech company Moderna to approve its mRNA-based flu vaccine.

The agency’s decision, which Moderna announced in a press release on Feb. 10, 2026, is the latest step in efforts by federal health officials under Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. to disrupt longstanding public health practices relating to vaccine access and approval, as well as to reshape the public’s perception of vaccine safety.

Vaccines based on mRNA came to the forefront in the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic, but researchers are now using the technology to create other vaccines, as well as treatments for diseases such as cancer and autoimmune disorders. The Nobel Prize-winning technology may be especially promising for flu because vaccines can be developed rapidly each season to match mutating influenza strains.

However, Kennedy and other federal health officials, including at the FDA, have expressed particular skepticism toward mRNA-based vaccines, raising safety concerns while providing no credible data on their health risks, and defunding research on their development.

The Conversation asked Ana Santos Rutschman, a Villanova University law professor and vaccine policy expert, to explain the significance of the FDA’s decision and how it fits into the rapidly changing landscape of public health policy.

What exactly did the FDA do, and why is it unusual?

In December 2025, Moderna submitted an application to the FDA to approve an mRNA flu vaccine for adults age 50 and older. The vaccine had been tested in clinical trials including more than 40,000 people. In response to the application, the agency sent Moderna a “refusal-to-file” letter, dated Feb. 3, 2026. This is a type of notice the regulator sends to companies when it deems a new drug or vaccine’s application to be incomplete.

Because companies developing new products meet with the FDA early in the process to agree on requirements for approval, it’s rare for the agency to take this action. What’s more, there have been very few occasions in which the FDA has diverged significantly from other major drug regulators around the world. But in this case, drug regulators in Canada, Europe and Australia accepted Moderna’s application for review.

Especially concerning is that several FDA scientists and other staff have confirmed that they expected to review Moderna’s application. The director of the FDA’s Office of Vaccines Research and Review, David Kaslow, wrote a memo recommending it be reviewed. But Vinay Prasad, who directs the center that oversees the vaccine research office, overruled the decision.

Directors rarely overrule agency scientists, especially regarding vaccines. But this is at least the fourth time Prasad has done so since being appointed to the FDA in 2025.

What reasons did the FDA give for its decision?

Moderna took the unusual step of announcing the FDA’s refusal and releasing the agency’s letter. The letter states that Moderna did not conduct an “adequate and well-controlled” study because it had not compared patients receiving its vaccine to patients receiving what the agency claimed to be “the best-available standard of care.”

An older woman sneezing into a tissue
Moderna’s flu vaccine would be the first one using mRNA technology, but Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and other federal health officials have been skeptical about the safety of mRNA based vaccines.
PixelVista/E+ via Getty Images

In the U.S., standard-dose flu vaccines are approved for everyone over 6 months of age, but health authorities recommend that adults over 65 receive a more potent dose. Moderna’s announcement quoted the language the FDA used when approving the company’s clinical trial protocol in 2024. The agency had originally suggested that for people age 65 and older, the company compare the efficacy of its vaccine to the more potent dose. But after reviewing Moderna’s protocol, the FDA deemed the standard vaccine “acceptable.”

Besides the fact that the FDA agreed to the trials Moderna conducted, I believe the agency’s claim that the company didn’t use “the best-available standard of care” is problematic because it does not reflect the legal requirements for vaccine approval. Although this phrase sounds official, it is nowhere to be found in FDA law or guidance for companies developing vaccines.

Instead, FDA law requires a company to provide data from “adequate and well controlled studies” and using standard dose flu vaccines aligns with the requirement because they are widely used across age groups.

Shortly after Moderna announced the refusal, the health news outlet STAT quoted an unnamed FDA official stating that if Moderna were to “show some humility,” the agency might still review the application, but only for people under 65. Imposing this restriction after refusing to review the application has no basis in the law because FDA approves clinical trial parameters early on, in consultation with companies.

From a legal perspective, the FDA’s decision could potentially meet what’s called the “arbitrary and capricious” standard, because the agency seems to have altered its position without a valid reason for that change. If a court makes such a determination, it could invalidate the FDA’s decision. That process, however, would take time.

Does the FDA’s decision reflect a change in vaccine policy?

This is the first time that the FDA has tried to preclude the review of a vaccine for reasons that do not have to do with safety or efficacy. The move, which ties into a broader strategy by federal health officials under Kennedy, signals an escalation in the agency’s efforts to intervene in established procedures for testing vaccines.

In April 2025, Kennedy announced that new vaccines would require additional clinical trials. In November 2025, Prasad released an internal FDA memo claiming that mRNA-based COVID-19 vaccines had killed children. Although he provided no evidence, he said that in response to the alleged deaths, large-scale changes to requirements for vaccine approval were coming.

The FDA’s refusal of Moderna’s application appears to be Prasad’s policy in action.

What might this mean for vaccines going forward?

On a practical level, the fact that the FDA is now articulating requirements that are nowhere to be found in the law creates major uncertainty for companies with pending or upcoming vaccine applications. That’s because manufacturers now have reason to worry that they might invest resources in the lengthy process of developing a vaccine, only to receive similarly unpredictable refusals.

More broadly, with so many areas in vaccine law and policy in turmoil, incentives for vaccine manufacturers to bring vaccines to market are shrinking. In January 2026, even before the flu vaccine refusal, Moderna’s chief executive officer said the company was scaling back on vaccine development .

Finally, the FDA’s move risks fueling further mistrust in vaccines, aligning with a wider push from federal health officials to question long-settled science.

The Conversation

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

ref. FDA rejects Moderna’s mRNA flu vaccine application – for reasons with no basis in the law – https://theconversation.com/fda-rejects-modernas-mrna-flu-vaccine-application-for-reasons-with-no-basis-in-the-law-275771

How Indigenous athletes challenge simple ideas of national unity at the Olympics

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Taylor McKee, Assistant Professor, Sport Management, Brock University

As the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milan Cortina unfold, the world is once again turning its gaze to the podium. But for most nations, the importance of the Olympics extends well beyond medals.

The Games are a place where nations tell stories about themselves: who belongs, who represents them and how secure that nation feels in the world. National sporting events offer a way to make abstract ideas like sovereignty and belonging visible.

As humanities scholar Homi K. Bhabha argues in his book on nationhood, nations are not fixed entities, but are continually retold, like stories. The Olympics provide one of the most visible stages for nations to shape narratives about themselves.

At a time when Canada and other countries are feeling pressure about their sovereignty, the Olympic Games are taking on heightened symbolic meaning.

But Indigenous athletes, in particular, reveal the limits of using sport to perform national unity, and show how multiple sovereignties continue to exist within “Team Canada.”

Forging a nation through sport

One of the earliest Canadian sports stories ever told was explicitly about forging something new under the weight of empire. In 1867, days after Confederation, a working-class crew from Saint John, New Brunswick, competed in rowing at the Paris Exhibition, a world’s fair held in France.

Black and white photo of four men rowing in a row boat across a body of water
An 1871 photo of the Paris Crew.
(National Archives of Canada)

The “Paris Crew” quickly became a national symbol, not just because they won, but because the victory felt like a young country holding its own against an older imperial world. It became a story of Canadians carving out space on an international stage that was not designed with them in mind.

Over time, what it meant to see Canada represented in sport started to change. By the early 2000s, a familiar insecurity lingered.

This sentiment did not survive Canada’s exceptional performance at Vancouver 2010 when the country won a historic 14 gold medals.

In the lead-up to those Olympics, the federal government invested heavily in a high-performance system built to deliver medals. Even the name of the initiative — Own the Podium — put it plainly. Excellence was no longer a wish for Canada, but the standard, and the resources followed.

When sovereignty feels unsettled again

Today, the ground feels less stable again. Canada’s relationship with its closest ally, the United States, is under intense strain due to ongoing tariff disputes and repeated threats to Canadian sovereignty from the American president.

Canadians are testing their mettle by discerning whether they have the skills and endurance to publicly defend and perform sovereignty on the national stage.

Sport is an ideal forum for this because it’s already built as a competition among national units, even when lived reality is far more regional and local.

This renewed attention to sovereignty can feel like a throwback to the Paris Crew moment, when defeating bigger powers looked like a form of self-determination.

Dual narratives

The effort to balance the complexities of national pride and sovereignty under a colonial shadow takes on even more complexity through the participation of Indigenous athletes.

Following Alwyn Morris and Hugh Fisher’s 1000-metre sprint kayak gold medal at the 1984 Summer Olympics, Morris gave an eagle feather salute to his grandfather. This moment is widely remembered as a positive example of Indigenous resurgence through sport, and a reclaiming of cultural space.

At the same time, as Morris himself has explained, the gesture was a reminder that Indigenous identity does not dissolve into “Team Canada,” even during moments many Canadians want to read as uncomplicated unity.

That is why Morris’s salute still matters. It shows how representation can hold two truths at once. Morris was awarded gold while wearing red and white, but he claimed his win as one for “the other part of who [he] is,” showing how Indigenous sport stories cannot be reduced to a single national storyline.

Indigenous resistance through sport

Perhaps the longest-running example of Indigenous resistance through sport is the Haudenosaunee Nationals lacrosse team, which competes internationally as a sovereign nation.

Contemporary lacrosse reflects a version of the sport that is much different than what Haudenosaunee People have traditionally revered as a “medicine game.” In the late 1800s, when “The Creator’s Game” was colonized and rebranded as “Canada’s National Game,” Indigenous peoples were barred from competition.

Today, the Haudenosaunee Nationals are the only sports organization in the world to compete in international competitions while representing an Indigenous confederacy as a sovereign nation.

Representing the Haudenosaunee, the Nationals embody Indigenous reclamation and resurgence. With lacrosse returning to the 2028 Summer Olympics, the Haudenosaunee’s claim for sovereignty is once again on the line.

Canada’s national story

For most Canadians, international sport is the easiest place to feel the nation in real time. A flag goes up. An anthem plays. A medal table is refreshed. In a few minutes of speed, grace and accuracy, complicated questions about history, economy and belonging collapse into a simple narrative.

Through these articulations of Indigenous sovereignty, representation and resurgence, Indigenous athletes have reminded “Team Canada” why this narrative isn’t as simple as it feels. For Indigenous Canadian athletes, participation is about representing the communities that came together to believe in them.

It’s about celebrating family strength, healing inter-generational trauma and leading a new path. It’s about resisting threats to sovereignty and reclaiming what was taken away.

That is exactly why sport becomes so charged when Canadians feel our sovereignty is under pressure, whether that pressure is literal, symbolic or both. In sport, athletes are asked to do more than win medals — they are asked to stand in for Canada itself and to reassure audiences that the country is coherent, respected and capable of protecting what is considered ours.

The Conversation

Taylor McKee receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada

Janelle Joseph receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council.

Lucas Rotondo 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 Indigenous athletes challenge simple ideas of national unity at the Olympics – https://theconversation.com/how-indigenous-athletes-challenge-simple-ideas-of-national-unity-at-the-olympics-274408

Epstein files: why the Trump administration is taking a big gamble by releasing millions of documents

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Katie Pruszynski, PhD Candidate, Department of Politics and International Relations, University of Sheffield

The death of Jeffrey Epstein in 2019 was never going to be the end of his menacing presence in the American political orbit. More than six years later, the Department of Justice (DoJ) has now released millions of the “Epstein files” to a hungry and impatient audience.

But the DoJ’s conduct has set new questions in motion, this time about its own agenda in protecting powerful figures, including – according to his political opponents – the US president, Donald Trump. The unfolding saga reveals unsettling truths about elite power networks and our own ability to critically assess information in an era of extreme overload.

The Epstein Files Transparency Act compelled the DoJ to release the files to the fullest extent possible. The content is harrowing and shocking. But there are also a number of troubling implications in the DoJ’s actions in the build up to, and since, the release of the files, as well as in the manner in which sensitive information was handled.

Despite a statutory deadline of December 19 2025, the DoJ only began drip-feeding documents on the deadline day itself, drawing widespread criticism. And while an initial DoJ report identified 6 million “responsive” documents, the deputy attorney-general, Todd Blanche, claimed on January 30 that the cumulative release of 3.5 million documents met all legal obligations. This leaves 2.5 million documents effectively missing.

There were, predictably, accusations of a cover up. At the very least, in stalling the release of the files and then turning a trickle into a flood, the DoJ could reasonably be accused of malicious compliance; trying to bury damaging needles in mountainous haystacks.

Beyond the missing files, congressional oversight has been throttled. Secure “reading rooms” were established where sitting members, without staff, were able to review unredacted pages taking only hand-written notes. Quite the task with 3.5 million documents.

Most disturbingly, the DoJ’s redaction process appeared inverted. According to Democrat lawmaker, Ro Khanna, who has scrutinised unredacted versions of the files, high-profile names were shielded, yet the full names and contact details of 43 victims were published alongside graphic photographs of young women and potentially minors.

The DoJ acknowledged these “mistakes”, but in combination with the delayed release and the missing files, alarm bells are ringing that this, too, forms part of a more sinister strategy to divert attention away from the content of the files themselves through chaos.

Gambling on the attention economy

The DoJ appears to be making two significant gambles on the attention economy of the digital age. The first relies on information and crisis exhaustion. Releasing a massive data dump creates a triage and narrative challenge that few journalists or activists can meet.

This is not necessarily new: the practice, known in the US as “backing up the truck”, which involved the government when asked to divulge sensitive public documents, releasing a truckload of documents in which they hid the sensitive ones, is a time-honoured and devious tactic well known to journalists.

In a world where attention is a commodity, the Trump administration appears to be betting that the public simply lacks the bandwidth to process the Epstein revelations amid a sea of manufactured and organic distractions.

Consider the current pulls on even a mildly engaged citizen in the US. Since the start of the year, ICE and other immigration agencies have escalated their activities in US cities, most notably in Minnesota where they have killed two Americans without, critics say, probable cause or likely sanction.

The US captured the leader of Venezuela in a legally dubious military raid, and implied other Latin American leaders could face the same demise. Trump ramped up his threats to annex Greenland.

Meanwhile millions of Americans have seen their health insurance premiums soar as a result of Republicans declining to extend healthcare subsidies.

It is little wonder that there have been observations in US media outlets that the public response to the Epstein revelations has seemed muted in comparison to audiences in the UK and elsewhere. With “perma-crisis” as the baseline, the administration appears to be betting that public focus will be dragged away by the next trending issue.

The partisan shield

Americans are, in fact, responding to the revelations. And while there has been an unusually bipartisan horror at the content of the files, this issue, as with so many others, has served to entrench divisions and resentment towards the partisan “other”.

This is at the heart of the administration’s second gamble. Research demonstrates that increasingly, our partisan identity forms a crucial part of our whole social identity. In effect, who we support defines a large part of how we see ourselves in the world. So strong is the connection, that challenges to our partisan beliefs feel like an existential threat to who we are.

Confronted with such a threat, we are more likely to double down on those beliefs, even in the face of contradictory evidence. So much so, that in extreme cases, people are able to see any contrary views as evidence of a conspiracy against them, their peers and their leaders. Trump has long understood this hold he has over his base.

The Maga community produced the loudest calls for the Epstein files, believing they would expose a “deep state” paedophile ring involving the Clintons and Hollywood elites. Indeed, Bill Clinton is in the files, mentioned multiple times, although he denies any wrongdoing and there has been nothing published to suggest he has been involved in any.

But to maintain their cognitive consistency, supporters must convince themselves that while the files condemn their enemies, the more than 30,000 references to Donald Trump are part of a broad conspiracy to defenestrate their leader.

Looming on the horizon to focus minds are the 2026 midterm elections in November. Republicans and the Trump White House may be gambling once more on the attention economy having long since consigned Epstein to history. Democrats will have to fight to maintain focus on Trump’s behaviour both in the files and about the files while tackling the barrage of injustices that, in reality, feel much more relevant to Americans in their day-to-day lives.

The other names in the files, those of the victims, remain much further away from any kind of justice.

The Conversation

Katie Pruszynski 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. Epstein files: why the Trump administration is taking a big gamble by releasing millions of documents – https://theconversation.com/epstein-files-why-the-trump-administration-is-taking-a-big-gamble-by-releasing-millions-of-documents-275827

How Tate Modern is serving up Frida Kahlo – from canvas to cuisine

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Benedict Carpenter van Barthold, Lecturer, School of Art & Design, Nottingham Trent University

The forthcoming Tate Modern retrospective, Frida: The Making of an Icon, promises to go beyond the canvas to explore the construction of an artistic legend. At a recent breakfast press-briefing at KOL, a Mexican restaurant in London, co-curator Tobias Ostrander framed the exhibition as a study in how Frida Kahlo “constructed her own image and identity through her artwork and her appearance”.

The show, which arrives at Tate Modern this June following a debut at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston (MFAH), invites visitors to peel back the layers of a mononymic (known by just one name) myth on par with Elvis. But as Kahlo’s face becomes increasingly synonymous with consumer goods, a question remains: if we continue to “eat her up”, will any of her radical substance be left?

Since Kahlo’s death in 1954, the curators noted, the artist has come to serve the feminist and gay rights movements as a “symbol of radical criticality and self-invention”. Her refusal to adhere to traditional gender norms either in her presentation or sexual conduct, and her carefully crafted adoption of traditional Tehuana clothing (through her mother’s heritage) are just part of the appeal.

Her path-breaking adoption of a confessional mode in art, sharing her biographical and biological trauma as the central subject of her work, seems to presage the way identity is performed on social media today. If her purpose is to serve as a signifier of active agency, then Kahlo’s time has come.

As a public icon, Kahlo is a strangely open symbol. Some of the uses to which her image has been put are incompatible with what we know of her convictions. Despite being a lifelong (if intermittent) communist, Kahlo is a hugely ubiquitous brand. Alongside 80 of her works, the Tate retrospective will feature an unconventional display of licensed “merch”, from shoes and bags, to tequila and sanitary pads. The latter is bitterly ironic, given Kahlo’s own struggles with reproductive health.

The MFAH gift shop offers visitors the opportunity to “shop the collection”, with a pick of Kahlo planters, Kahlo “secular candles”, tote bags and more. The most memorable item is a strikingly weird “Two Fridas” fridge magnet. This transforms one of the artist’s most visceral paintings into a kitschy bit of kitchen bling. This is the challenge of the Kahlo legacy: the more ubiquitous her image becomes, the more its original and liberating meaning risks being flattened.

A tale of two kitchens

The exhibition’s parallel gastronomic tie-ins offer a useful way of considering the tension between the particular and the spectacular. Le Jardinier, the MFAH’s restaurant, makes a practice of creating “Culinary Canvas” desserts to honour the artists that the gallery shows. For Kahlo, they created In Bloom, “a vibrant reflection of the flowers in Mexican culture and Kahlo’s artwork … layered with guava cream, pineapple compote and hibiscus gelée.” It looks the picture.

In contrast, Tate Eat’s partnership with Santiago Lastra, the Michelin-starred founder of KOL, suggests a more grounded approach to cultural translation. Like Kahlo, Lastra is a proud Mexican, but rather than relying on imported ingredients, his method is to reinterpret from the British terroir.

The flavour of lime is recreated by the tart British berry sea buckthorn. Floral mango is reimagined through tempered butternut squash. This research-intensive translation liberates his cuisine from poor quality air-freighted produce, and, arguably, gets the British diner closer to a true Mexican experience.

I had the opportunity to enjoy Lastra’s food, after which I asked him about the common points between his cooking and Kahlo’s art. He replied that his involvement was about “showcasing Mexican culture in the UK – I think Frida, well, taking your roots somewhere else really tests them, putting them into a global city is where it is tested, and that’s how you know it’s good”. He went on to say that his mission is to share “the high quality of Mexico in terms of craft”.

Creative translation, like Kahlo’s adoption of indigenous clothing, or Lastra’s cooking, is the key to maintaining a creative legacy.

There are more than 100 artworks by artists who have been inspired by Kahlo coming to the Tate this June. Among them is Mary McCartney’s portrait of Tracy Emin as Frida Kahlo. Emin’s practice explores personal trauma and defiant survival, like Kahlo’s, and it is both fitting and disarming to be confronted by this combination of the two personae.

This is where Kahlo’s legacy finds its breath. Just as Lastra translates the tart snap of a Mexican lime into a British berry, artists like Emin translate Kahlo’s radical essence into a modern context. Without this kind of reimagination, an artist’s legacy loses its relevance. It becomes less magnetic and more of a magnet, stuck to a fridge.


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The Conversation

Benedict Carpenter van Barthold 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 Tate Modern is serving up Frida Kahlo – from canvas to cuisine – https://theconversation.com/how-tate-modern-is-serving-up-frida-kahlo-from-canvas-to-cuisine-275345

Three decades on from Wales’ biggest oil spill, how the Sea Empress disaster changed shipping

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Ian Williams, Professor of Applied Environmental Science, University of Southampton

Volunteers cleaning Tenby’s Harbour Beach after the oil spill in 1996. Scott Grant, CC BY-NC-ND

I grew up on the beaches of Pembrokeshire in south-west Wales. Visits to Tenby were my family’s summer ritual: sand between our toes, paddling in rockpools, strawberry syrup on ice cream.

But 30 years ago, I vividly remember walking along Tenby’s North Beach with my mother and grandmother. No crowds. No laughter. Just the hush of waves sliding over dark, tar‑smudged sand. The holiday postcards had gone grey.

At about 8pm on February 15 1996, the Sea Empress oil tanker missed her tug escort into port by minutes. The ship veered inside the mouth of Milford Haven and struck rocks near St Ann’s Head.

Over the next stormy week, it grounded and re‑grounded many times, creating more damage to the hull each time. About 72,000 tonnes of North Sea crude oil were spilled. This was Britain’s worst coastal oil disaster in a generation.

The fightback was messy. Weather worsened. Control systems to manage the spill were strained. Nine separate releases of oil stained the sea as wind and tide shoved a wounded tanker around the edges of the Pembrokeshire Coast national park.

Aircraft spread dispersants to try to break up the oil spill. Rough seas helped break oil into smaller droplets. This kept oil suspended in the water (not just floating on the surface), which can increase exposure and toxicity for sea and plant life, even as the visible surface layer declined.

At the same time, because the spilled oil contained a lot of relatively volatile petrol components and the weather was windy and the sea choppy, an estimated 35-45% evaporated in the first two days.

people on beach with stream of black oil, tanker in distance
Oil from Tenby’s Harbour Beach is pumped into a tanker for removal in 1996.
Scott Grant, CC BY-NC-ND

In all, 11,000-16,000 tonnes of water-in-oil emulsion are estimated to have reached the shore – far less than the 72,000-120,000 tonnes of emulsion that could have beached. But even so, more than 120 miles (190km) of coastline were oiled. Birds, shellfish, marine and coastal habitats and the local tourism industry all took a hammering.

The UK government’s Marine Accident Investigation Branch found the immediate cause was pilot error – compounded by weak training, poor use of leading marks to help the tanker’s navigation, and no agreed master–pilot plan.

Salvage overseen by the Marine Pollution Control Unit (part of the UK Coastguard Agency) unfolded amid a stormy week. Muddled control was an issue alongside insufficient tug power and limited expert knowledge of the tidal streams. When big ships are in trouble, authority must be clear and tugs must be strong.

What’s changed since the disaster?

A lot has improved since the Sea Empress disaster.

The line of command is now much more direct. The UK created a single, empowered decision-maker – the secretary of state’s representative – to cut through competing interests in a major maritime emergency. The role dates from 1999 and exists because of lessons from the Sea Empress.

There’s also a clearer response plan in place. The national contingency plan for marine pollution incidents sets out who does what from the first call to the last waste bag. It links government, ports, regulators and science advisers, and outlines how to quickly set up a joint response centre for a coordinated approach to complex incidents.

Prevention of oil spills is high on the agenda. The UK government has identified marine environmental high-risk areas, including Pembrokeshire, to warn where a mistake can become a catastrophe.

Ships have also evolved to reduce the risk of big spills like this happening again. After the 1990s, single‑hull tankers were phased out under an amendment to international and national laws. New tankers had to be double‑hulled – designed with two completely watertight layers of steel – to reduce the risk of oil spills as the result of an accident.

By the mid‑2010s, single‑hull tankers were effectively gone from mainstream trade – a quiet revolution that prevented countless spills.

But not everything moved forward in a positive way.

In the 2000s, the UK stationed powerful government‑funded tugs around the coast. But in 2011, this fleet was axed on cost grounds, with a limited Scottish provision later restored and extended. A 2020 government‑commissioned study acknowledged that commercial towage hasn’t filled every gap, and that some sea areas are still at high risk of an oil disaster.

Risk has shifted, not vanished. Milford Haven is now one of Europe’s key liquefied natural gas (LNG) gateways. The South Hook and Dragon terminals, opened in 2009, can together meet up to a quarter of UK gas demand on peak days. That keeps homes warm and industry running. It also concentrates critical energy infrastructure in the same magnificent but exposed seascape that the Sea Empress scarred.

river with dark oil, brown boom stretches across width with boat, houses in background
An oil boom across Tenby Harbour tries to clean up the spill.
Scott Grant, CC BY-NC-ND

Lessons learnt

Three aspects of the handling of this disaster still guide my thinking as an environmental scientist today.

Hitting the oil hard at sea – and early on – can make a big difference. With the Sea Empress’s cargo of light crude in winter, rapid evaporation and dispersant‑aided dilution reduced shoreline oiling dramatically. It is often better to keep oil off beaches than have to scrape it off later – but you need surveillance, and then aircraft and trained people to be ready immediately.

crate of seabirds covered in black oil
Oiled seabirds wait to be cleaned after the Sea Empress spillage.
Scott Grant, CC BY-NC-ND

Coasts need to be cleaned in a methodical way, for as long as it takes. Buried oil re‑emerges. Heavy machinery can drive residues deeper if you rush. Quiet persistence beats flashy photo ops.

The government’s Sea Empress environmental evaluation programme found that, while many habitats recovered faster than feared, some wildlife communities – from limpets to cushion stars – needed continued protection.

Prevention always costs less than compensation. Fines, funds and court cases don’t restore trust or nature quickly. Investing upfront – in trained pilots, rehearsed joint command, powerful tugs in the right places, modern kit and transparent science – is cheaper than rebuilding a reputation for clean beaches, safe seafood and thriving wildlife. That was true in 1996. It is truer now.

Thirty years on, I still see Tenby’s empty beaches when they should have been busy. I can still picture the sad faces of Pembrokeshire’s people. Wales has deep ties to the sea: trade, holidays, food, fun.

With better ships, clearer command and smarter plans, the risk of major oil spills can be minimised. But complacency is a fair‑weather friend. LNG cargoes, bigger vessels, tighter budgets and busier coasts all raise the stakes. Anything can happen after dark in a gale, when radios crackle, information is scarce, and decisions must be made quickly.


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The Conversation

Ian Williams receives funding from UK Research Councils, including the Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council’s Impact Acceleration Account.

ref. Three decades on from Wales’ biggest oil spill, how the Sea Empress disaster changed shipping – https://theconversation.com/three-decades-on-from-wales-biggest-oil-spill-how-the-sea-empress-disaster-changed-shipping-274882

Some glaciers can suddenly surge forward – with dangerous consequences

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Harold Lovell, Senior Lecturer, Glaciology, University of Portsmouth

The surging Scheelebreen glacier in Svalbard advances into the frozen fjord, April 2022. Erik Schytt Mannerfelt, CC BY

It’s difficult to forget standing in front of a glacier that is advancing towards you, towering ice pillars constantly cracking as they inch forward. The motion is too slow to see in real time, but obvious from one day to the next.

One of us (Harold) experienced this during fieldwork in 2012 at Nathorstbreen on the Arctic archipelago of Svalbard, which was moving forwards more than 10 metres per day.

Encounters like this are rare. Most of the world’s glaciers are retreating rapidly as the climate warms, and thousands are likely to disappear altogether within the next few decades.

However, a small fraction of glaciers do the opposite, and repeatedly speed up and advance for months or years after a long period of stagnation and retreat. This is known as glacier surging, and it has long puzzled scientists.

It might be tempting to view advancing ice as an antidote to the gloomy picture of disappearing glaciers, but the polar opposite is true. Surges can accelerate ice loss, make glaciers more vulnerable to climate change, and create serious hazards for people living downstream of them.

We have just published a global study of over 3,000 surging glaciers to find out what’s causing them to move like this. Our work also summarises, for the first time, the hazards caused by these glaciers, and how surging is being affected by climate change.

Why some glaciers surge

During surges, glaciers accelerate from a slow crawl to tens of metres per day – sometimes within weeks. The fastest phase, when ice can flow at over 60 metres a day, typically lasts a year or more – although some glaciers have surged for up to 20 years. The return to low speeds and even stagnation can happen abruptly over days, or over several years.

Nathorstbreen dramatically advanced more than 15 kilometres in roughly a decade during its surge, which began in 2008 – transforming the entire landscape in a matter of years.

Field investigations at the surging front of Nathorstbreen, Svalbard in July 2012.
Harold Lovell

The onset of surging is thought to be controlled by changes beneath the glacier. In surge-type glaciers, water generated by melting ice does not immediately drain away, but gathers at the bottom of the glacier. This reduces friction between ice and the ground, making it easier for ice to slide faster.

When that water eventually drains, the glacier slows again. Some glaciers experience repeated surges separated by years or decades of low ice flow – but the exact timing of surges is hard to predict.

The sound of surging ice at Vallåkrabreen, Svalbard in May 2023. Erik Schytt Mannerfelt.
Erik Schytt Mannerfelt, Author provided (no reuse)1.63 MB (download)

Global hotspots of surging ice

Our study shows that at least 3,000 glaciers have surged at some point. That’s only about 1% of all glaciers in the world, but they tend to be large, so represent about 16% of the global glacier area.

Notably, they are found in dense geographical groupings across the Arctic, the Himalayas and other high mountains in Asia, and the Andes – but are largely absent elsewhere. This is primarily controlled by the climate: surges do not generally happen where conditions are currently too warm, such as in the European Alps or mainland Scandinavia, or too cold and dry, such as Antarctica.

Other factors such as size and underlying geology are also important for determining which glaciers surge in a region and which do not.

Some of the hotspots are found in populated regions, where surging glaciers can become hazards. The advancing ice can overrun infrastructure and farmland, and block rivers to form dangerous lakes that can release devastating floods when the ice breaks. An unstable lake formed by a surge of Shisper Glacier in the Karakoram mountain range drained multiple times from 2019 to 2022, causing extensive damage to the Karakoram Highway, a key connection between Pakistan and China.

A flood from a lake dammed by the surging Shisper Glacier destroys Hassanabad bridge on the Karakoram Highway in May 2022.

Fast-moving ice can cause deep cracks (crevasses) to form, affecting travel in regions such as Svalbard where glaciers provide highways between isolated human settlements. It also disrupts tourism and recreation activities, such as where climbers use glaciers to approach peaks. When glaciers surge into the sea, they release numerous icebergs in a short space of time that could present a risk to shipping and tourism.

Surging is changing as the climate warms

Climate warming is already reshaping how and when glaciers surge. In some regions, surges are becoming more frequent; in others, they are declining as glaciers thin and lose the mass needed to build towards a surge. Heavy rainfall, intense melt periods or other extreme weather have also been shown to trigger earlier-than-expected surges, and these factors may become more important in a warming climate.

Together, this paints a picture of the increasing unpredictability of glacier surges. Some regions might experience less surging as the world warms, while others might see an increase. It is feasible that glaciers that have never surged before may begin to, including in areas where there are no records of past surges, such as the fast-warming Antarctic peninsula.

Surging glaciers remind us that ice does not always respond to warming in simple and predictable ways. Understanding these exceptions, and managing the hazards they create, is critical in a rapidly changing world.

The Conversation

Harold Lovell receives funding from NERC.

Chris Stokes receives funding from the NERC.

ref. Some glaciers can suddenly surge forward – with dangerous consequences – https://theconversation.com/some-glaciers-can-suddenly-surge-forward-with-dangerous-consequences-273976

Matt Goodwin’s ‘English ethnicity’ rhetoric: it’s important to ask why politicians want to sort people into categories

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Ros Williams, Senior Lecturer in Digital Media and Society, University of Sheffield

For Reform parliamentary candidate and former academic Matt Goodwin: “Englishness is an ethnicity that is deeply rooted in a people that can trace their roots back over generations.” By contrast, he argues, liberal progressives believe “anybody can be English as long as they sign a piece of paper and identify with Englishness.”

This is not a novel definition, and for some, it may be completely uncontroversial. It’s not surprising that some people living in England can trace their ancestors back many generations.

But attempting to define a particular “ethnicity” is also an attempt to determine who is (and who is not) part of a given group. Policing these boundaries has serious consequences.

The idea of essential groups

To speak of an identity as one that can be traced “back over generations”, is to speak of human reproduction and generational transmission. These are central ideas in how, historically, people have been categorised into racial groups.

The biological sciences have a long history of dividing humans up. Take 18th-century Swedish biologist Carl Linnaeus’s Systema Naturae, the most influential attempt to classify the natural world, and the basis of contemporary zoological nomenclature. Linnaeus subdivided humans into four varieties that many of us would balk at today and has no basis in modern science: white Europeans, reddish Americans, tawny Asians, and blackish Africans.

In the centuries since, the number of groups has changed, as well as the language used to describe them. But the idea that we can inherit some innate qualities via generational inheritance – essentialism – underwrites these influential ideas. Essentialism would have it that you’re born as part of a group and all the “identifying” in the world cannot change that.

These divisions can also generate a sense of entitlement to certain rights or resources for one group over another. They have been used to justify violence, discrimination – some of the most shameful moments in human history. Indeed, racial essentialism became so dangerous that Unesco published a series of statements to flag the dangers of the impulse to divide ourselves like this.

The limits of categories

The world is in a constant state of push and pull. People move or are moved, for all kinds of reasons all the time. They settle and reproduce in different places. This is an empirical truth that limits the utility of essentialist ideas.

Essentialist thinking requires us to say both where, and when, we are from. Some will find it quite straightforward to demonstrate membership of a particular group but others will not. Many of us won’t be able to say that all of our ancestors (as far back as history allows us to trace) were all born in England.

Take Dame Kelly Holmes. She was one of the public figures Spectator editor Michael Gove mentioned when he interviewed Goodwin on this and other subjects. He asked: “Would you say that [she is] not really English?” Holmes is mixed race (a term that also leans on the idea of essential categories that somehow merge). She served in the army, won gold medals for England and Great Britain and received the honorific of Dame. But if only some of her “roots” can be traced “back over generations”, then does she not qualify as English?

Many of us will confound the groups that we are made to squeeze into because, ultimately, our roots long predate contemporary ideas of nation, identity and group.

Why do people invoke these ideas?

For me, what’s important here is not disproving the essential existence of groups, but trying to trace why they are being mobilised. Why do politicians want to define these categories?

Groups, identities and communities are made and remade. We come to feel a part of a collective. And this feeling is generated often in ways that seem somehow naturally occurring. We pray at the same place of worship; we listen to the same kinds of music. But our affiliations to particular groups do not exist in the wild.

Michael Gove interviews Matt Goodwin.

Categories have social power. When you define a collective, it makes it possible to speak to that collective and to mobilise it. Collectives can be delineated in more and less definitive ways. Essentialist thinking is some of the most definitive and inflexible of all. At its worst, those outside a group are denied access to respect and safety.

So, why distinguish between those who belong and those who do not? Why debate whether public figures with ancestors born elsewhere, but born and raised in England, are “actually” English? Why evoke (but not invoke) essentialised ideas of race, using words like ethnicity?

And if we know that cultivating boundaries of belonging can generate a sense of entitlement, then who risks being denied access, and to what? In a period of economic difficulty when public resources are already stretched, what is the next logical step after enough people can be made to agree on a clear definition of who is or is not English?

The essentialist claims we are hearing in the UK are not new, but they are powerful. So when politicians like Goodwin assert a desire to open a public debate on the categories they have selected – and even defined – we have to ask what purpose it serves.

The Conversation

Ros Williams has received funding from the ESRC

ref. Matt Goodwin’s ‘English ethnicity’ rhetoric: it’s important to ask why politicians want to sort people into categories – https://theconversation.com/matt-goodwins-english-ethnicity-rhetoric-its-important-to-ask-why-politicians-want-to-sort-people-into-categories-275200

The US is starving Cuba of fuel – here’s what a deal between them could look like

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Nicolas Forsans, Professor of Management and Co-director of the Centre for Latin American & Caribbean Studies, University of Essex

Cuba has reached a breaking point that even its crisis-hardened leadership cannot ignore. It is running out of fuel amid US pressure, having last received oil on January 9 from Mexico. This has prompted airlines such as Air Canada to cancel all flights to Cuba, hitting the tourism lifeline that accounts for most of the island’s foreign currency.

Massive power outages are now routine, and the UN has warned of a possible “humanitarian collapse” if Cuba’s oil needs go unmet. For the first time in decades, Cuba’s 67-year-old regime faces a crisis where its traditional survival tools – external bailouts, mass emigration and austerity – may no longer be enough.

Hostility between the US and Cuba dates back to 1960, when the newly socialist Cuban state nationalised American assets. Havana’s subsequent cold war alignment with Moscow then prompted an embargo in 1962 that prohibited almost all trade between the US and Cuba. Since then, Washington’s approach has cycled between pressure and limited engagement.

However, Donald Trump’s return to the White House in January 2025 has produced the most aggressive strategy in decades. And following the recent US capture and replacement of Venezuelan leader Nicolás Maduro, which resulted in Cuba losing its main oil patron, Washington has moved to close the island’s remaining energy lifelines. It has done so by threatening tariffs on countries that ship fuel to Cuba.

The Trump administration’s message to Havana is blunt: negotiate a deal on US terms or face an energy collapse that could push Cuba into a new “special period” (a reference to the 1990s when Cuba experienced severe economic crises after the dissolution of the Soviet Union). Havana has few options but to negotiate.

Trump and his secretary of state, Marco Rubio, have framed this operation as the next chapter in their effort to roll back left‑wing regimes in the western hemisphere. But despite this rhetoric, Washington’s goals are more strategic than they are ideological.

This is partly because delivering regime change in Cuba would be difficult. The regime has a strict ideological grip over the population and military that extends far beyond the current Cuban leader, Miguel Díaz-Canel. This makes it unlikely that removing him from office would bring about any real change.

The White House is most likely seeking a Cuba that is less of a security problem, less of a migration pressure valve and more of an economic opportunity – even if it remains formally communist.

What does the US want?

Preventing another mass exodus of Cubans to the US is a central objective. Over the past five years, more than 1 million Cubans have left their country, with hundreds of thousands entering the US. Trump has tightened those channels and has deported some recent arrivals, signalling that the “escape valve” that has helped Havana manage discontent is closing.

Any deal will therefore prioritise the Cuban government’s cooperation in discouraging departures, as well as guaranteeing its acceptance of deportation flights. Washington will also want to secure commitments from Cuba’s leaders to maintain basic social order so a humanitarian emergency does not spill into a migration crisis.

Meanwhile, the US has become alarmed in recent years by Cuba’s role as a listening post and foothold for its rivals. China has invested in intelligence facilities there aimed at intercepting US communications, while Russia signed a new military cooperation pact with Cuba in 2025.

Trump and Rubio may well see the energy chokehold as a chance to force Havana to close specific Chinese and Russian facilities or block future bases. Also likely are demands for some form of monitoring or transparency to reassure Washington that these activities are being rolled back.

At the same time, the Trump administration will see a commercial upside. Cuba’s infrastructure is in tatters and years of mismanagement, US dollar shortages and rules blocking profit repatriation have scared off investors. But the island’s beaches, ports and location still offer long‑term potential.

In any deal, US negotiators would likely push for a significant expansion of the private sector, as well as access for US and allied companies in tourism, energy generation, grids, ports, telecoms and logistics. Crucially, Washington will want some guarantees that foreign investors can repatriate profits.

Many tourism businesses in Cuba are currently controlled by Grupo de Administración Empresarial (Gaesa), a military-run conglomerate that controls about half the economy. So a gradual loosening of Gaesa’s economic control, or at least clearer rules and partnerships that give foreign firms more say, are probable US demands.

This would not mean a wholesale “opening” overnight. The Cuban military would still control much of the commanding heights. But it would create real stakes for US and European businesses in the island’s gradual economic recovery.

Finally, Trump and Rubio need something more immediate they can sell to domestic audiences as proof that pressure has “worked”. Yet they are also wary of triggering uncontrolled regime collapse. That tension points towards symbolic, calibrated steps rather than full democratisation.

This is likely to involve the release of a number of political prisoners, especially those jailed after protests in 2021. It may also see controls on internet access and independent civic activity eased, and possibly some limited experiments with more competitive local elections.

What Washington wants in Cuba is not an immediate transition, but a narrative: that US pressure forced a long‑closed regime to crack the door open, creating space for future change while avoiding a sudden vacuum close to its shores.

For Cuba’s leaders, the priority is regime survival. They will give ground most readily on economic and foreign policy issues, where concessions can be packaged as tactical and reversible. But they are likely to resist anything that looks like real power‑sharing at home.

That makes a deal centred on fuel, finance, migration control and a partial strategic realignment the most likely near‑term outcome. Cuba’s political system will bend at the margins, yet it is unlikely that the US administration will want to break the regime entirely.

The Conversation

Nicolas Forsans 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. The US is starving Cuba of fuel – here’s what a deal between them could look like – https://theconversation.com/the-us-is-starving-cuba-of-fuel-heres-what-a-deal-between-them-could-look-like-275765