Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Kevin Taylor, Senior Lecturer, School of Indigenous Studies, The University of Western Australia

“It makes me feel like I am right there on Country”.

This was the response of a student after they used a new virtual reality (VR) tool I codeveloped to help Indigenous people around Australia learn on Country.

Learning on Country is the way in which Indigenous people teach and learn about Indigenous knowledge systems and culture – and the new VR tool, known as 360 On-Country, makes it more accessible than ever.

It not only brings Country to the classroom, but it also has the potential to bring Country to one of our most vulnerable populations who need it the most – our Elders.

Country is knowledge

Indigenous knowledge is intricately linked to the natural environment.

It is a knowledge system taught by being present with the changing environment and observing the changing colours of the land, the moving position of stars, the changing availability of food and water. It’s based on interactions with the environment made over thousands of years and is embedded in Indigenous language, culture, identity, totems, kinships and Dreaming stories.

Learning on Country is core to Indigenous knowledge. However, it isn’t always possible. For example, students sometimes can’t access Country due to disability, location or other constraints such as travel costs.

Using virtual reality to access the opportunity to learn on Country remotely can potentially remove such challenges.

The 360 On-Country journey

The idea to develop a VR tool came during the time of COVID lockdowns, when universities were moving from teaching face-to-face to completely online.

At the time I was coordinating a unit alongside Elder Len Collard looking at Country through a western scientific and Indigenous lens.

A large proportion of the unit was delivered on Country. Students would note their observations in scientific field journals and then research the Indigenous perspectives after. Developing the unit for online delivery was challenging.

Luckily, Perth was not severely impacted by lockdowns, so students were able to access local parks and observe the native flora and fauna close to home while staying within the restrictions.

When investigating alternative options where students could replicate learning on Country, VR was one idea we had. And eventually we secured funding to launch a pilot.

The VR resources were co-designed and developed with Indigenous academic Shandell Cummings, a Menang woman local to Kinjarling (Albany), Western Australia.

Shandell’s mother Dr Lynette Knapp, a Menang Elder, along with daughter Jessikah Woods, provided access to sites and stories with historical and cultural significance to their family and local Menang people. Shandell took me on an on-Country tour at Quaranup (Point Possession) sharing her cultural knowledge at several sites including the petroglyphs, lizard traps, the keeping place and local waterholes.

Strapped to my head was a 360 degree video camera filming a first-person experience of walking on Country. Later, our team edited the footage and turned it into a 360-degree virtual reality experience.

Connecting with the land

Aside from the slight nauseated feeling students experienced when removing the headset, they found the experience profoundly positive. As one told us afterwards:

The VR made me feel like I was really on Country, helping me connect with the land and its cultural meaning.

Another echoed this, saying:

It was a respectful and engaging way to learn about Indigenous stories, knowledge, and traditions. The visuals and sounds helped show the strong connection between people, culture, and the environment.

Students still preferred to be outside on Country. However, they saw VR as a tool which gives them a more immersive learning experience while creating a connection with Country they didn’t think was possible.

VR connecting Elders to Country

360 On-Country has the potential to benefit not just Indigenous students, but also Elders who are far beyond the classroom.

A 2023 study assessing the quality of life factors most important to older Indigenous people identified that opportunities to connect to Country was the most unmet factor in urban settings.

Though VR is currently used in aged care in cognitive stimulation, physical exercise and reminiscence therapy resources aren’t targeted towards cultural therapy such as using it to access Country.

Elders’ last wish in end-of-life is to return to Country – something that is not always possible. This is where VR such as the ones developed here can help Elders return home in their final days.

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

– ref. A virtual reality tool I developed is helping Indigenous people connect with Country – https://theconversation.com/a-virtual-reality-tool-i-developed-is-helping-indigenous-people-connect-with-country-271851

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Robert G. Patman, Professor of International Relations, University of Otago

President Donald Trump’s recently-issued National Security Strategy marks a decisive break in United States foreign policy. It also poses an uncomfortable challenge for New Zealand and other countries that have long depended on a rules-based order.

The document formalises the most significant shift in Washington’s global outlook since 1947. It confirms, as European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen warned earlier this year, that the “West as we knew it no longer exists”.

By claiming that liberal democracies in the European Union were on a trajectory towards “civilisational erasure”, the Trump administration framed Europe as being in deep decline.

On that basis, it pledged to support far-right populist parties that, in its words, “oppose elite-driven, anti-democratic restrictions on core liberties in Europe, the Anglosphere and the rest of the democratic world”.

The security strategy also stated Europe should “take primary responsibility for its own defence” at a time when it acknowledged “many Europeans regard Russia as an existential threat”. At the same time, it made clear the US would increasingly focus on its “Western Hemisphere”.

More broadly, the document prioritised state sovereignty, rejected multilateral institutions unless they directly advanced US interests, advocated limits on immigration and free trade, and outlined a vision of global order managed by a small concert of great powers: the US, China, Russia, India and Japan.

From strategy to reality

Trump’s strategy should not have come as a surprise. Rather, it formalises a set of positions and instincts that have been increasingly evident throughout the president’s second term.

The document was foreshadowed by the administration’s steady alignment with Project 2025 – a suite of policy proposals advancing an ultra-conservative vision domestically and internationally.

It was also signalled by outlandish territorial threats directed at democracies such as Canada and Denmark by Vice-President JD Vance, who claimed in his controversial February speech in Munich that European Union states suffer from a democratic deficit. Trump has also repeatedly implied that Russia’s invasion of Ukraine should largely end on Vladimir Putin’s terms.

The contrast with New Zealand’s worldview could hardly be greater.

Since the end of World War II, all governments in New Zealand have firmly supported a rules-based system of international relations embodied in norms of multilateralism and institutions such as the United Nations.

Nevertheless, the current coalition government, like many liberal democratic states, has responded to the second Trump administration by adopting a “softly-softly” approach.

Such diplomacy has involved a determined effort to stay off the radar, and exercising marked restraint when the Trump administration acts in ways that show little respect for New Zealand’s national interests.

Read more:
Europe must reject Trump’s nonsense accusations of ‘civilizational erasure’ – but it urgently needs a strategy of its own

As a result, the New Zealand government has declined to publicly support allies and partners such as Canada, Mexico and Denmark as they face pressure from Washington.

It has also had little to say about the erosion of international law by the US and Israel in Gaza and beyond, refused to recognise a Palestinian state, and appeared publicly unwilling to challenge Trump’s trade protectionism.

The underlying assumption was that New Zealand was too small to make a meaningful difference on the world stage. By avoiding offending or provoking Trump, it was hoped he could be persuaded over time to soften key policies – or at least be coaxed into negotiating exemptions from proposed tariffs on exporters such as New Zealand.

This strategy was flawed from the outset. It has deprived New Zealand of a clear stance on some major international issues and has risked being interpreted by Washington as supportive of Trump’s “America First” policies.

More importantly, quiet diplomacy did not curb Trump’s sustained assault on the multilateral, rules-based order on which New Zealand – and most small and middle powers – depend.

Nor did it prevent a 15% tariff on New Zealand exports to the US, despite US imports facing average tariffs of just 0.3%, with few restrictions.

Why softly-softly won’t work

For countries such as New Zealand that have favoured this softly-softly stance, it is surely now time to abandon the post-war ideal of the US as champion and ally of liberal democratic states.

If alliances are arrangements through which countries safeguard shared values and interests, it has become increasingly difficult to describe New Zealand’s current relationship with Trump’s revisionist administration in those terms.

To be sure, New Zealand has continued to weigh participation in AUKUS Pillar Two and has joined a number of US-led strategic initiatives, including Operation Olympic Defender, Project Overmatch and the Partnership for Indo-Pacific Industrial Resilience.

These steps reflect a desire to maintain defence and security cooperation, even as the broader political and strategic foundations of the relationship have shifted.

Yet Trump’s security strategy now leaves the government with little room to avoid reassessing its stated goal of closer strategic alignment with the US.

That pressure is reinforced by newly-released polling showing New Zealanders have low levels of trust in both the US and China acting responsibly in world affairs.

For a country that depends on rules rather than power, this scepticism points to the growing challenge of navigating a global order in which the assumptions of the post-war era no longer hold.

Robert G. Patman 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’s new security strategy exposes the limits of NZ’s ‘softly-softly’ diplomacy – https://theconversation.com/trumps-new-security-strategy-exposes-the-limits-of-nzs-softly-softly-diplomacy-272354

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Jacqueline Theis, PhD Candidate in Ecology, University of Otago

Even small green spaces can bring nature back into cities, as our project in Ōtepoti Dunedin has shown.

Over the past two years, Dunedin’s city centre has become greener and more biodiverse thanks to the installation of street-side planters.

This change, though modest, proves popular with a range of insects that have moved in even though the city centre remains dominated by grey non-permeable surfaces.

This real-world example shows that urban dwellers with limited green spaces can still have a positive impact on urban biodiversity through the use of planters and raised garden beds.

Since most New Zealanders live in urban areas, these are the places where people frequently interact with and experience nature. The way we design cities shapes our experience of the natural world, and it should include habitat for our native flora and fauna.

As housing pressure rises, stand-alone homes with private gardens are increasingly replaced by medium-density housing with limited greenspace. If we want to keep our living environments green, we have to find ways to enhance biodiversity in increasingly smaller spaces.

Opportunities to connect with nature are linked to increased mental and physical wellbeing, sense of place and pro-environmental behaviours. In fact, having a connection to nature was deemed equally important as income in a recent Australian survey that ranked life satisfaction.

Planning with biodiversity in mind

Amid the growing recognition of biodiversity’s importance, the Dunedin City Council has started weaving it into city planning, despite the absence of national policies for modified urban habitats.

The council partnered with local agency Aukaha to incorporate mana whenua values of environmental guardianship into the design of the city’s main shopping street.

The upgrade of Dunedin’s George Street comprises three consecutively installed blocks, each with a slightly different theme. The first block is dominated by native plants, the second features more flowering species, and the third has a mixture of both.

In total, the planters include more than 2,500 plants representing close to 60 species, of which more than half are native. These offer a variety of resources for wildlife, from food (pollen, nectar, fruit) to habitat niches created through the plants’ varying heights and physical structures. Each block’s planters have either loose stone or bark as the ground medium.

Urban insect colonisation

To test whether George Street’s planters actually do enhance biodiversity we conducted a two-year study of insect colonisation.

We used pitfall traps buried in the ground and hand-held vacuuming of plants to catch insects and assessed whether the planters act as stepping-stone habitats – small patches that connect fragmented urban landscapes to more natural ones, thus enhancing biodiversity and ecosystem health.

Our results are promising. As expected in a harsh, disturbed urban environment, we found the insect communities in the George Street planters differ from those found in more extensive natural areas such as the Town Belt or Ross Creek, which tend to have more specialised species.

However, several groups have successfully colonised the planters, including spiders, flies, native wasps, beetles and other insects.

Beetles, New Zealand’s largest insect group, are good indicators of ecosystem health. We found a small population of Scopodes fossulatus, a native ground-dwelling carnivorous beetle, also present in the surrounding natural areas. Its presence indicates sufficient food resources (other smaller insects) and a functioning micro-ecosystem.

Gardening for wildlife

The George Street planters offer practical guidance for urban dwellers on how to enhance biodiversity in their own outdoor spaces, regardless of size.

Bark was found to be more successful in attracting insects than loose stone as the planter medium. Planting vegetation of varying heights is one of the best ways to enhance urban biodiversity.

This can be achieved by planting a native ground cover such as Aceana microphylla (bidibid), together with a variety of structurally complex plants between 30 centimetres and more than two metres in height.

Plants with more leaf surface area and complex shapes and forms, such as Polystichum vestitum (prickly shield fern), are more likely to offer habitat, and thus attract insects, compared to structurally simple plants like Libertia (New Zealand iris) species.

While non-native plants add colour, including native plants will attract native insects as they have co-evolved.

George Street demonstrates that even in a small space, staggering flowering times throughout the year to provide continuous food resources is achievable: native Veronica (formerly Hebe) “Beverly Hills”, for instance, produces bright purple flowers throughout spring and summer, while non-native Lenten roses flower from late winter to spring.

When sourcing native plants for pots, planters or gardens, growers should consider supporting local nurseries. They often offer a greater genetic diversity and in-depth knowledge on local climatic preferences.

Most importantly, it’s good to take time to connect with nature, be it on a balcony, backyard or the seats around the George Street planters, and enjoy the species these small but mighty green spaces can attract.

Jacqueline Theis receives funding from the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment. She is affiliated with the Entomological Society of New Zealand.

Barbara I.P. Barratt receives funding from the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment for research on border biosecurity, risk assessment for biological control agents and native grassland ecology; from the Department of Conservation for research on endangered insect species; and from Environment Canterbury for expert advice on terrestrial invertebrates.

Connal McLean is affiliated with the Entomological Society of New Zealand and a trustee of the Moths and Butterflies of NZ Trust.

Yolanda van Heezik receives funding from the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment.

– ref. Dunedin’s inner-city greening project shows even small spaces can be wildlife havens – https://theconversation.com/dunedins-inner-city-greening-project-shows-even-small-spaces-can-be-wildlife-havens-267097

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Milad Haghani, Associate Professor and Principal Fellow in Urban Risk and Resilience, The University of Melbourne

You may have noticed — there’s a car-size inflation on Australian roads that some have nicknamed car “mobesity”.

Most SUVs and utes from a decade or two ago look small next to today’s models.

As we head for a fifth consecutive year of rising road deaths and what could be the worst year for pedestrian fatalities in nearly two decades, it’s time to look more closely at what this means.

We already know bigger cars cause greater impacts in collisions.

But what’s less discussed is whether driving one also changes how we drive – if larger vehicles make us feel safer inside them, do they also make us take more risks behind the wheel?

What’s driving this trend?

Four in five new cars sold in Australia are SUVs or utes – more than double the share of 20 years ago.

This isn’t purely consumer-driven.

With no domestic car manufacturing, Australia imports vehicles shaped by global production trends, many of which trickle down from United States policies that reward larger vehicles.

Two subtle US policy features explain why.

First, the “SUV loophole”: under US law, most SUVs are classified as light trucks, meaning they’re subject to less stringent fuel-efficiency and crash-safety standards than passenger cars.

Second, under US fuel economy rules, fuel-efficiency targets are adjusted based on the size of the vehicle’s “footprint” — the area between its wheels. In practice, this means larger vehicles are allowed to consume more fuel while still meeting the target.

Together, these rules have encouraged American manufacturers to build and sell heavier SUVs and utes.

Large vehicles can deliver significantly higher profit margins than small cars.

These trends have resulted in more bigger cars being driven on Australian roads.

The combination of high car ownership, years without fuel efficiency rules, and the luxury-car-tax exemption that many utes qualify for has made Australia a highly lucrative market for large, high-emission models.

Marketing has played a significant role too: in 2023, car makers invested about A$125 million in SUV and 4×4 advertising in Australia – a 29% increase from the previous year.

The dangers of bigger vehicles

There’s a physical mismatch between large and small vehicles that usually transfers the danger from the occupants of the bigger car to everyone else.

While the risks of being hit by a large SUV or ute might seem self-evident, the question is how much greater those risks are.

Research provides a clear answer.

Car-to-car collisions:

• Collisions between large SUVs and smaller cars show occupants of a smaller vehicle face about 30% higher risk of dying or sustaining serious injury.

• A 500kg increase in vehicle weight is linked to a 70% higher fatality risk for occupants of the lighter car.

• For every fatal accident avoided inside a large vehicle, there are around 4.3 additional deaths among other road users.

Car-to-pedestrian and cyclist collisions:

• Pedestrians struck by SUVs are about 25% more likely to sustain serious injuries and 40–45% more likely to die than those hit by smaller cars.

• For children, the outcomes are far worse: they are up to eight times more likely to die when hit by an SUV than by a small car.

• Each 10cm increase in front-end height raises the fatality risk for pedestrians by roughly 20%.

• Tall and blunt fronts (vertical or nearly upright front design) are associated with more than a 40% increase in pedestrian death when compared with low and sloped front ends.

These differences help explain why US pedestrian deaths — once on a steady decline — have climbed back to their highest level since the early 1980s.

This is while most countries have reduced pedestrian fatalities.

Bigger cars, more risk-taking?

Evidence from multiple countries suggests driving larger vehicles may lead to more confident or risk-prone behaviour:

• India: SUV owners recorded 20–25% higher risk-taking scores than sedan or hatchback drivers

• Israel: an analysis of 1.5 million speeding citations found drivers received about a quarter more speeding tickets when vehicle mass was 10% heavier

• Austria: roadside observations of 48,000 vehicles showed SUV drivers more frequently drove without seatbelts, used phones and ran red lights. Women SUV drivers showed violation rates similar to men, breaking the usual pattern of higher female caution in traffic studies

• New Zealand: field data found SUV drivers 1.5 times more likely to drive one-handed, a behaviour linked to lower perceived risk and reduced vigilance

• Germany: large-car drivers reported higher rates of traffic violations and risky driving.

Policy can make a difference

Taxes and size-dependant registration fees could potentially offset some of the extra costs of heavier vehicles on roads surfaces, congestion and emissions, or regulate demand.

Two measures would make a tangible difference:

Licence testing by vehicle class

Many drivers obtain their licence in a small sedan but can legally drive a two-tonne ute the next day. Yet, larger vehicles demand different manoeuvring skills, longer braking distances and greater spatial awareness.

Requiring a practical test in a vehicle of comparable size to what the driver intends to drive (or a streamlined license upgrade for an experienced driver when upsizing) would acknowledge that added responsibility.

The reform would also carry a symbolic message: driving a heavier vehicle comes with greater responsibility.

Penalties scaled to impact potential

A ute or SUV travelling 10kmh over the limit carries greater kinetic energy and longer stopping distance than a small sedan.

A tiered approach – where fines or demerit points scale with vehicle mass – would better reflect the disproportionate risk that bigger cars pose.

If Australia is serious about reducing road trauma, these are the kinds of targeted, evidence-based adjustments that should be considered.

Milad Haghani receives funding from The Australian Government (The Office of Road Safety).

– ref. Australia’s roads are full of giant cars, and everyone pays the price. What can be done? – https://theconversation.com/australias-roads-are-full-of-giant-cars-and-everyone-pays-the-price-what-can-be-done-268212

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Daniel Eldridge, Senior Lecturer in Chemistry, Swinburne University of Technology

When summer hits, the combination of heat and activity often result in increased sweating. Sweat is great – it’s our personal evaporative cooling system. Most of us will sweat out at least half a litre each day, and that’s before any intense exercise.

Unfortunately, sweating can also exacerbate body odour. To control this, many of us use an antiperspirant or deodorant every day. Even though we apply both to our underarms, the two products are actually distinct and function in different ways.

Knowing this difference can help you troubleshoot your personal hygiene products – and stay stink free.

Sweat doesn’t smell

To understand how underarm products work, we first need to look at where the unpleasant odour comes from.

The sweat our bodies release is actually odourless. It comes primarily from one of two types of glands: eccrine and apocrine.

Eccrine sweat glands, responsible for the greatest amount of sweat, are located over most of the body. They tend to release a mostly water-based sweat primarily responsible for our thermoregulation. This sweat also contains electrolytes and small amounts of other substances that typically don’t result in bad odours.

The apocrine sweat glands, found primarily in the armpit and groin regions, produce sweat with a more oily composition, containing proteins, sugars and oils. This sweat is also odourless at first.

However, several types of bacteria that live on the skin feed on this sweat, and in doing so, produce volatile and odorous substances. They cause body odour, and the scent of some of these compounds can be sensed by nose in concentrations of trillionths of a gram per litre of air. Apocrine sweat glands tend to become active at the onset of puberty.

To combat these odours, we reach for antiperspirants or deodorants. Although we tend to use the terms interchangeably, each name actually describes the precise way these products work.

What antiperspirants do

Broadly speaking, all antiperspirants work in the same way. They contain active ingredients that stop your body from releasing the sweat in the first place.

The ingredients that do this are usually one of a variety of metal-containing salts, most frequently aluminium chlorohydrate, aluminium sesquichlorohydrate, aluminium chloride, or a zirconium-aluminium compound.

These combine with water and other molecules in the sweat gland to produce a temporary plug that prevents the flow of sweat to the skin’s surface. As a result, the bacteria on your skin are deprived of the substances they digest to produce unwanted odours.

What deodorants do

Deodorants work differently – they allow sweat to flow out onto the skin, but then prevent the odour either from being released, or from becoming detectable. This is achieved with a range of different ingredients.

Some deodorants may have antimicrobial agents, designed to reduce the microbial population responsible for producing the odorous molecules. Some are perfumes, designed to mask unwanted odours.

Other compounds are sometimes added as odour absorbers to bind volatile molecules, and sometimes to absorb moisture too.

Finally, selected active ingredients may alter the local pH level of your skin, making it less hospitable for bacteria.

Other approaches – currently in development – look to inhibit bacteria from producing odours, or to neutralise odour precursors before the bacteria can consume them.

There’s some overlap, too

Outside of these main ingredients, you can expect your underarm product to contain a few other additives – to work as preservatives, provide a pleasant fragrance, assist with application, and improve the feel of the product on your skin.

If you’re just looking to stop the smell, a deodorant can get the job done. If you want to sweat less too, an antiperspirant is what you need. If you can’t decide, quite a few products use a combination of both strategies – a strongly scented antiperspirant, or antiperspirants with antimicrobials are common examples.

As with many consumer products, some people will have either personal or outcome-based preferences for one approach over another. As we age and change habits, our bodies may respond differently to these products, so you may need to engage in some trial and error, or even to seek medical advice in some cases.

What about ‘natural’ deodorants?

Despite a rumour started by an email hoax, evidence-based research indicates aluminium-based antiperspirants are safe, and don’t pose any risks to our health.

That said, “natural” deodorants are popular for various reasons. Although they sometimes use different active ingredients compared to “regular” deodorants, the mode of action is usually the same – antibacterial, masking the smell, absorbing moisture or a combination thereof.

One common active ingredient in “natural” formulations is sodium bicarbonate, used to absorb moisture and odour, and to modify the underarm pH. Certain essential oils, used for their antimicrobial properties and scent, are common ingredients too.

Importantly, a product being “natural” does not necessarily mean that it’s safer. In fact, some alternative deodorant ingredients haven’t been as thoroughly tested for safety. Others pose the same risks as their synthetic counterparts – for example, that bacteria might develop antimicrobial resistance against both synthetic ingredients and natural ones, such as essential oils.

Read more:
Whole-body deodorants: a solution to a non-existent problem

Daniel Eldridge 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’s the difference between deodorant and antiperspirant? Quite significant, actually – https://theconversation.com/whats-the-difference-between-deodorant-and-antiperspirant-quite-significant-actually-271626

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Anam Bilgrami, Senior Research Fellow, Macquarie University Centre for the Health Economy, Macquarie University

If you arrive at an emergency department (ED) today, you’ll be triaged. That’s a quick judgement about how urgently you need care. Those in crisis are seen quickly, while others may wait hours.

A decade ago, three-quarters (74%) of emergency patients in public hospitals were seen within the clinically recommended time by a nurse, doctor or other health professional after arrival. Now, only two-thirds (67%) of patients are seen on time.

The same pattern shows up in elective surgery. Ten years ago, the median wait was around 35 days between a doctor deciding you need surgery and you having the operation. Today, it’s 45 days. Some wait over a year.

Longer wait times reflect the balance between demand for services, the supply of staff, beds and theatre time, and how efficiently hospitals coordinate care and discharge patients through the system.

Let’s look at who waits longest.

How quickly should patients be seen in EDs?

Every patient arriving at an ED is assigned a triage category based on urgency:

• resuscitation: requires immediate treatment, within seconds (for example, during a cardiac arrest)
• emergency: should be seen within ten minutes (for example, a suspected heart attack or stroke)
• urgent: within 30 minutes (symptoms such as high blood pressure or persistent vomiting)
• semi-urgent: within 1 hour (for example, a minor head injury or non-specific abdominal pain)
• non-urgent: within 2 hours (for symptoms of low-risk conditions or minor wounds).

Fewer ED patients seen on time than a decade ago

On-time performance mostly slipped over the past decade, although there’s been a small rebound since 2023–24, after a low the year before.

But median waiting times have changed little over the same timeframe and remain steady at 18 minutes. This is partly because there have been proportionally more patients in the “emergency” category and fewer classified as “non-urgent”.

However, most people who come to EDs aren’t in life-threatening situations. Last year, there were 9.1 million presentations. Only 0.96% were resuscitation cases (86,831). Nearly all these patients were seen immediately.

How states and territories compare on ED waits

There were 1.6 million “emergency” category cases in 2024-5. New South Wales and Queensland performed relatively well, with around three-quarters of emergency cases seen within the ten-minute target.

In contrast, South Australia, Tasmania and the Northern Territory lagged behind, with half, or just under, seen on time.

The largest patient groups were “urgent” (3.8 million) and “semi-urgent” (3.0 million) presentations, accounting for around three-quarters of ED activity.

Western Australia was an outlier for urgent patients, with less than a third treated within 30 minutes, the lowest rate nationally.

Most “non-urgent” patients were seen on time, but performance for semi-urgent patients dipped below 50% in Western Australia and the Northern Territory.

What about elective surgery? How does the queue work?

Elective surgeries are planned surgeries that are medically necessary and may be urgent, but not the result of an ED presentation.

These are classified by level of urgency based on clinically recommended timeframes for surgery:

• category 1: within 30 days. Condition may deteriorate quickly and require emergency care (for example, a limb amputation or a malignant skin lesion)
• category 2: within 90 days. Includes conditions that cause pain, dysfunction or disability (for example, a hernia or nerve compression)
• category 3: within a year. Includes conditions that cause pain, dysfunction or disability but that are unlikely to deteriorate quickly (for example, a knee replacement or cataract extraction).

Longer waits for surgery than a decade ago

Over the past decade, the median wait for elective surgery in public hospitals has risen modestly, from 35 days to around 45 days in 2024–25.

The bigger story lies in the tail: the share of patients waiting more than a year for surgery has tripled, from about 2% a decade ago to around 6% today, peaking at nearly 10% in 2022–23 as hospitals dealt with post-COVID backlogs.

While the median wait is now fairly stable, the much larger long-wait tail points to sustained backlog pressures consistent with demand outstripping available capacity.

How do states compare on elective surgery performance?

Performance varies across Australia.

Over the past year, almost all category 1 patients (those needing surgery within 30 days) were treated on time in Victoria (100%) and New South Wales (99%), but only around two-thirds in Tasmania (66%).

For category 2 procedures (within 90 days), on-time admission ranged from about 79% in NSW to just 53% in Tasmania and 52% in the ACT.

For the less-urgent category 3 cases, outcomes were more consistent, with most states admitting around 80–87% on time, excluding the ACT (69%) and NT (72%).

When it comes to public hospitals, everyone seems to be waiting – waiting for emergency care, waiting for elective surgery, waiting to get onto a ward. Private hospitals are also struggling. In this five-part series, experts explain what’s going wrong, how patients are impacted, and the potential solutions.

Why do patients wait so long? And what does ‘bed block’ actually mean?

Nearly one-third of ED patients are admitted to hospital; for those aged 65 and over, it’s more than half.

Some public hospital patients stay long after they’re medically ready for discharge because they’re waiting for aged care or disability support placements.

When wards are full, new patients can’t be admitted: a problem known as bed block. This can create a chain reaction: EDs back up, ambulances with patients queue outside (“ramping”), and staff have less capacity to treat new arrivals.

But bed pressures don’t just come from EDs. Rising chronic disease and potentially preventable hospitalisations add to hospital demand.

Meanwhile, with elective surgery backlogs, hospitals under bed pressure may become more likely to delay procedures.

In short: bed block and ambulance ramping reflect system-wide mismatches between hospital demand (acute, chronic and elective care) and supply (beds, community care and discharge capacity).

Consequences may be felt in EDs, elective surgery waitlists, and ultimately patient care and outcomes.

What could help?

There’s no single fix for long public hospital waits. The challenge spans demand, supply and system design.

On the demand side, Australia lags behind other high-income countries in per capita spending on prevention, leaving many risk factors and chronic conditions mismanaged until they turn into preventable hospitalisations.

Research finds older Australians living alone or with subtle cognitive impairment may miss GP appointments, diagnostic care or allied health support, which may mean small problems become emergencies.

Urgent care clinics may help divert some less urgent cases away from EDs but the final evaluation is still pending.

Innovative care programs, such as remote monitoring for patients with heart failure also show how technology can keep people well at home.

On the supply side, freeing capacity is as important as building it. In some states, 8-10% of public hospital bed days are occupied by patients waiting for aged care or disability supports.

Investment in step-down, transitional care, and faster aged-care placement would “unblock” discharge pathways by using other capacity in the system.

Hospital workforce shortages and burnout remain major barriers. While recent funding boosts will help, sustained staffing and training pipelines are essential to lasting gains.

At the hospital level, efficiency matters. Transparent resource prioritisation, consistent clinical scoring, and protected elective surgery streams may reduce bottlenecks.

Ultimately, clearing the queues means preventing what’s preventable, unblocking what’s stuck, and efficiently and transparently managing what’s left.

Read more from the Hospitals in Crisis series here.

Anam Bilgrami 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. Just 2 in 3 patients are treated on time in emergency departments. Check how your public hospital performs – https://theconversation.com/just-2-in-3-patients-are-treated-on-time-in-emergency-departments-check-how-your-public-hospital-performs-270683

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Cher McGillivray, Assistant Professor in Psychology, Bond University

Christmas can be a magical time of year for kids. Writing wish-lists, seeing Santa at the shops, leaving carrots for the reindeer out on the porch. And then of course, the presents under the tree.

So what happens when the penny drops and a child realises the guy who brings toys in a sleigh is not real? Perhaps an older sibling, friend or even a parent breaks the news. Perhaps the child works things out for themselves.

This can lead to some big feelings – sadness, disappointment, perhaps even betrayal. How can you work through this?

Believing in Santa is OK

Research shows us magical thinking – such as believing in Santa – supports many components of social and emotional development.

This includes imaginative play and creativity.

Research tells us children who are able pretend play are more socially competent with peers and able to engage in classroom activity. These playful experiences boost language, empathy and self-control.

Between ages three and eight, kids start to tell fantasy apart from reality, but believing in Santa during this time still helps them enjoy healthy pretend play.

Believing in Santa can also support language development – writing letters or talking to him at the shops. And it introduces moral lessons, as Santa (in theory) rewards good behaviour.

But not believing in Santa is equally OK!

Not believing in Santa is also a normal developmental milestone.

Children typically learn the truth at about seven years of age. Some kids experience brief sadness or betrayal.

Despite this, research shows most children maintain trust in their parents and the disappointment over Santa is mild and fairly short-lived. Some children may even experience relief if the story just wasn’t adding up for them.

It’s normal for kids to be disappointed

Disappointment is a healthy emotion that teaches coping skills and emotional resilience.

Remember, disappointment triggers emotional responses before logical thinking. This can make the initial experience feel intense.

This means a child may be upset when their older brother says, “Santa’s just Mum and Dad”. But they will then quickly get over it. This may of course be helped when they realise the presents still come on Christmas Day.

What can parents do?

Children who learn gradually about the reality of Santa are less upset than those told abruptly. This may not be possible if an older sibling is around.

If your child is upset, validate their feelings – “I know this is disappointing” – and then shift the focus to other positive values like gratitude or giving. For example, “how would you like to surprise Nanna with one of your special drawings to show her how much you love her?”

Does Santa make kids behave?

Research also suggests belief in Santa alone does not prompt good behaviour from kids at Christmas. But enjoying wider festive traditions can make some difference between children being “naughty” or “nice”.

Parents, not Santa, are the real influence on children’s behaviour. When adults remind kids to “share your toys with your sister, Santa is watching” or “stop fighting with your brother or Santa won’t come”, it works because of the parent’s intervention not the myth alone.

Meanwhile, other rituals around Christmas, such as family gatherings or tree decorating, can encourage kindness and cooperation, because they teach children the importance of doing things for and with others.

What’s really important?

When children stop believing in Santa, parents can turn this moment into an opportunity shifting from one magical guy to meaningful family rituals and shared experiences.

So whether Santa is “real” in your house or not, involve your kids in meaningful holiday traditions such as decorating, baking, storytelling, music, family and friend gatherings and religious observance – and have yourselves a merry little Christmas.

Cher McGillivray 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. Uh oh, my child just discovered the truth about Santa – https://theconversation.com/uh-oh-my-child-just-discovered-the-truth-about-santa-271747

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Hassan F. Gholipour, Associate Professor of Property, Western Sydney University

The gap between rich and poor has reached historic highs. According to the World Inequality Report 2026, released in recent weeks, the richest 10% of the global population now receive 53% of all income and own a staggering 75% of all wealth.

The poorest half of humanity, meanwhile, receive just 8% of income and own 2% of wealth.

Looking at these stark figures, it is easy to assume such extreme inequality is a guaranteed recipe for revolution. If people are struggling to survive while a tiny elite prospers, you’d think they would eventually rise up.

However, history and data tell a more complex story. Many deeply unequal societies remain politically stable for decades, while others with moderate inequality erupt into chaos. Why does economic grievance boil over in some places but not others?

As geopolitical tensions rise – from the “Gen Z uprising” in Asia to civil unrest in the Middle East – understanding the trigger for conflict is urgent.

Our new study, published in the Scottish Journal of Political Economy, suggests inequality alone is rarely enough to drive instability. Instead, we found a crucial accelerant that transforms economic grievance into political action: the internet.

The missing link

For years, political scientists have debated the link between inequality and conflict. Some studies found a strong connection; others found none.

To help solve this puzzle, we analysed data from more than 120 countries from 1996 to 2020.

We looked at income inequality (measured by the Gini index) and paired it with political stability scores from the World Bank. We then introduced a third variable: how much of the population uses the internet.

We found digital connectivity acts as a moderator. This means the internet changes how inequality affects society.

In countries with low internet access, higher inequality does not lead to higher political instability. In fact, we found that in such relatively unconnected societies, inequality is sometimes associated with greater stability.

This may be because marginalised groups lack the information to compare their lives with others, or the tools to organise effectively.

The tipping point

Our analysis identified a specific “tipping point”. We found income inequality begins to significantly drive political instability only when roughly more than 50% of the population uses the internet.

In highly connected societies – where more than half the population is online – the relationship between inequality and unrest becomes positive and significant.

This pattern holds true even when we control for other factors that usually cause conflict, such as youth unemployment, corruption and excess profits from natural resources (such as oil rents).

We also robustly tested these findings using data on actual conflict-related deaths, rather than just perception-based stability scores, and the results remained consistent.

So, why can internet connection fuel conflict? Why does the internet make inequality so combustible? Our research points to two main mechanisms: information and coordination.

The visibility of wealth

Before the digital age, a person living in poverty might compare their living standards only to their immediate neighbours. If everyone around you is poor, your situation might feel normal, or at least tolerable.

The internet destroys this isolation. It provides a window into the lives of the wealthy, both domestically and globally. Social media platforms act as a relentless showcase of luxury, creating a sense of “relative deprivation”.

When citizens – particularly young, underemployed men and women – can see the vast gap between their reality and the lives of the elite on social media, it generates psychological strain.

Grievances move from abstract statistics to visceral, daily reminders of what they lack.

Read more:
Deadly Nepal protests reflect a wider pattern of Gen Z political activism across Asia

Lowering the cost of protest

Feeling angry is one thing; doing something about it is another. Historically, organising a mass movement was dangerous, expensive and slow.

The internet, specifically through social media and encrypted messaging apps, solves the collective action problem. It drastically lowers the coordination costs for dissatisfied citizens.

We have seen this play out repeatedly. During the Arab Spring of 2011, Facebook was used to help mobilise protesters against regimes in Egypt and Tunisia.

In Iran, social media was vital in spreading the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement of 2022, allowing citizens to bypass state media blackouts.

Just months ago in Nepal, a country where about 56% of the population uses the internet, what began as protests over a social media ban quickly escalated into a nationwide anti-corruption movement. This resulted in dozens of deaths, substantial economic disruption and the resignation of the prime minister.

In these contexts, the internet did not create the grievance. Inequality, corruption and repression did that. But the internet provided the spark and the fuel that turned grievance into fire.

Grappling with inequality

As the World Inequality Report warns, wealth concentration is rising while public wealth stagnates. At the same time, global internet use continues to climb, reaching nearly 71% of the global population in 2024.

As more developing nations cross the 50% digital threshold, governments can no longer rely on lack of awareness or lack of coordination to maintain order in unequal societies.

Some regimes may be tempted to shut down the internet to maintain stability. However, our research suggests a different path.

If governments want to ensure political stability in the digital age, they cannot simply police the internet. They must address the economic grievances it reveals.

Policies that reduce income disparities such as progressive taxation, investment in public services and control of corruption are no longer just economic ideals. They are security imperatives.

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

– ref. Inequality alone doesn’t cause civil unrest – but internet access adds the crucial spark – https://theconversation.com/inequality-alone-doesnt-cause-civil-unrest-but-internet-access-adds-the-crucial-spark-272058

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Alexander Howard, Senior Lecturer, Discipline of English and Writing, University of Sydney

People crowd together in the sun. All smiles and waves. Joyous.

Pandemonium erupts. Panic hits like a shockwave as those assembled swivel and bolt, spilling down a seemingly infinite flight of steps.

Armed men appear at the crest, advancing with mechanical precision. We are pulled into the chaos, carried with the writhing mass as it surges downward. Images sear themselves on the retina. A child crushed underfoot. A mother cut down mid-stride.

An infant’s steel-framed pram rattling free, gathering speed as it hurtles downward. A woman’s glasses splinter, skewing across her bloodied face as her mouth stretches open in a soundless scream.

I’ve just described one of the most famous sequences in the history of film: the massacre of unarmed civilians on the steps of Odessa. Instantly recognisable and endlessly quoted, it is the centrepiece of Sergei Eisenstein’s masterpiece, Battleship Potemkin, which turns 100 this month.

A new front for cinema

Battleship Potemkin redrew the boundaries of cinema, both aesthetically and politically.

It is a dramatised retelling of a 1905 mutiny in the Black Sea Fleet of the Imperial Russian Navy – a key cresting point in the wave of profound social and political unrest that swept across the empire that year.

The first Russian revolution saw workers, peasants and soldiers rise up against their masters, driven by deep frustration with poverty, autocracy and military defeat.

Although the tsar remained in power, the discord forced him to concede limited reforms that fell far short of what had demanded.

The impetus for the historical mutiny on the Potemkin was a protest over rotten food rations. Eisenstein emphasises this in his film, lingering on stomach-churning close-ups of maggots crawling over spoiled meat.

When the sailors refuse to eat the putrid rations, they are accused of insubordination and lined up before a firing squad. The men refuse to gun down their comrades and the crew rises up, raising the red flag of international solidarity as they symbolically nail their colours to the mast.

A sailor called Vakulinchuk, who helped lead the uprising, is killed in the struggle. Sailing to Odessa, the crew lays his body out for public mourning and the mood in the city becomes increasingly volatile. Support for the sailors swells, and the authorities respond with lethal force, sending in troops and prompting the slaughter on the Odessa Steps.

The Potemkin fires on the city’s opera house in retaliation, where military leaders have gathered. Soon after, a squadron of loyal warships approaches to crush the revolt. The mutineers brace for battle, but the sailors on the other boats choose not to fire. They cheer the rebels and allow the Potemkin to pass in an act of comradeship.

At this point Eisenstein departs from the historical record: in reality, the 1905 mutiny was thwarted and the revolution suppressed.

Political myth-making

Battleship Potemkin was commissioned by the Soviet State to commemorate the 20th anniversary of the revolution.

The new Bolshevik administration viewed cinema as a powerful tool for shaping public consciousness and Eisenstein – then in his late 20s and gaining attention for his radical theatre work – was tasked with creating a film that would celebrate the origins of Soviet power.

Eisenstein initially planned a sprawling multi-part film canvasing the revolution’s major events, but faced production constraints. He turned instead to the Potemkin, a story which allowed him to depict oppression, collective struggle and the forging of revolutionary unity in a distilled form.

The finished piece was less a literal history lesson than a highly stylised piece of political myth-making.

When Potemkin was presented at Moscow’s Bolshoi Theatre in December 1925 the invited spectators, a mix of communist dignitaries and veterans of the abortive 1905 mutiny, punctuated the screening with bursts of wild applause – none more ecstatic than when the battleship’s crew unfurl the red flag, hand-tinted a vivid red on the black and white film.

Celebrated – and banned

Battleship Potemkin was a global sensation. Filmmakers and critics hailed it as truly groundbreaking. Charlie Chaplin declared it “the best film in the world”.

Yet its impact also made it feared. Governments recognised the volatile political charge running through its images. In Germany it was heavily cut, and in Britain it was banned. Even so, prints continued to circulate, and the film’s reputation only grew.

Eisenstein’s growing international status did little to protect him at home. As the 1920s gave way to the 1930s, the tides of Stalinist cultural policy began to turn sharply against him. Eisenstein’s approach was profoundly out of step with the new aesthetic of Socialist Realism, which demanded clear narratives, heroic characters and unambiguous political messaging.

Where his signature technique, montage, was dynamic and dialectical, Socialist Realism insisted on straightforward storytelling and easily digestible moral lessons. As a result, Eisenstein found himself accused of obscurity, excess and political unreliability.

Several of his projects were halted; others were taken out of his hands altogether. Those he did complete were admired, but none matched the impact of Battleship Potemkin.

A century on, its vision of oppression, courage and collective resistance still crackles with an energy that reminds us why cinema matters.

Alexander Howard 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. Battleship Potemkin at 100: how the Soviet film redrew the boundaries of cinema – https://theconversation.com/battleship-potemkin-at-100-how-the-soviet-film-redrew-the-boundaries-of-cinema-267433

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Christopher Tounsel, Associate Professor of History, University of Washington

Sudan’s brutal civil war has dragged on for more than 2½ years, displacing millions and killing in excess of 150,000 people – making it among the most deadly conflicts in the world today.

As of December 2025, the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces appear to be making gains, seizing a key oil field in central Sudan and forcing the retreat of the Sudanese Armed Forces in key cities in the country’s west.

But fighting has ebbed and flowed throughout the war, with parts of the country changing hands a number of times. It has left a complicated picture of a nation mired in violence. Here’s a visual guide to help understand what is going on and the toll it has taken on the Sudanese population.

What military forces are involved?

The two main warring parties are the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF).

The SAF is the nation’s official military. Prior to the civil war, it was responsible with enforcing the border, protecting the country from foreign entities and maintaining internal security. As of April 2023, the SAF had an estimated force of up to 200,000 people.

The paramilitary RSF is a semi-autonomous organization that was created in 2013 to confront rebel groups. Its origins lie in the feared Janjaweed militia that gained international notoriety for its scorched-earth tactics, extrajudicial killings and sexual assaults during a campaign in Darfur between 2003 and 2005.

Rebranding as the RSF, the paramilitary force evolved to become President Omar al-Bashir’s personal security force before al-Bashir’s ouster in 2019.

After that, the RSF and the SAF worked together to stage a 2021 coup against Prime Minister Abdalla Hamdok in 2021. But a power struggle emerged between the leaders of the RSF and SAF amid disagreements over the future direction of the country and whether the RSF would be incorporated into the army.

By the outbreak of the civil war in 2023, the RSF had amassed around 100,000 troops.

Various other armed groups have lent their support to the RSF and SAF during the conflict, including the rebel Sudan People’s Liberation Movement-North, which supports the RSF, and the army-aligned Justice and Equality Movement

Who are the main leaders?

The SAF is led by General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, the nation’s top military commander and de facto head of state. The longtime soldier rose to the rank of regional commander in 2008 and was promoted a decade later to the position of army chief of staff.

Following Bashir’s 2019 ouster, Burhan was appointed to lead the Transitional Military Council and its successor civilian-military entity known as the Sovereign Council. As leader of the Sovereign Council, Burhan occupied the nation’s highest office.

His reputation has been marred by his own military’s attacks on civilians in Darfur in the early 2000s and, more recently, his reliance on support from Islamist groups.

The RSF leader, Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, also known as “Hemedti,” was Burhan’s second-in-command.

Born to a poor family that settled in Darfur, Hemedti was part of the Janjaweed militia that President Bashir deployed to crush non-Arab resistance in the country’s west. Becoming leader of the Janjaweed before going on to head the RSF, Hemedti acquired a reputation as a ruthless commander whose brutal methods disturbed some fellow officers.

Where are the weapons, funding coming from?

While the fighting has largely been contained to within Sudan’s boundaries, it is being fueled from outside the country.

Amnesty International has reported that despite a decades-old arms embargo by the United Nations Security Council, recently manufactured weapons and equipment from China, Russia, Turkey and the United Arab Emirates have been used by both sides in the conflict.

The Sudanese government has accused the UAE of providing military assistance to the RSF, which in turn has been accused of using the UAE for illegal gold trafficking.

In addition to providing military assistance, the UAE has been accused of providing economic support for the RSF. In January 2025, the Biden administration sanctioned seven UAE-based companies funding Hemedti.

Saudi Arabia, which sees Sudan as an ally to counter Iran’s regional influence, has provided financial support to the SAF. In October 2025, the SAF-backed government announced that Saudi Arabia planned to invest an additional US$50 billion into Sudan, on top of the $35 billion it has already invested.

Egypt, allied with Burhan in a dispute with Ethiopia over the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam, has supplied the SAF with warplanes and pilots.

Meanwhile, Iran and Russia have each extended support for the Sudanese government. It is believed that Iran, which renewed diplomatic ties with Sudan in October 2023, has provided the SAF with attack drones, while Russia has provided Sudan’s government with diplomatic and military support.

What areas are controlled by whom?

As of December 2025, the RSF and SAF control different halves of the country split along a roughly north-south axis. The SAF controls a little more than half of the country.

The SAF has a stronghold in the nation’s capital Khartoum. In the east, the army controls the city of Port Sudan on the Red Sea coast. The SAF also controls approximately three-quarters of the Sudanese border with Egypt to the north.

Strategically, the areas under SAF control provide the advantages of access to the Red Sea – a crucial transport hub through which 12% of the world’s maritime trade passes – as well as the historic demographic and administrative epicenter of Khartoum, situated at the confluence of the Blue and White Niles, and the livestock-rich Kassala state.

In all, Sudanese researcher Jihad Mashamoun estimates that as of November 2025, the SAF controlled 60% of the country.

Meanwhile, the RSF has consolidated control over Darfur – the massive western region that has been a hub for gold mining and trafficking routes – and the regional capital of el-Fasher, an economic hub connecting routes to Libya to the north, the Nile to the east and Chad to the west.

As researcher Bravin Onditi has noted, el-Fasher’s fall to the RSF in late October eliminated the SAF’s last stronghold in Darfur from which it could assert authority in western Sudan.

Outside of Darfur, the RSF controls most the country’s oil fields, many of the goldfields in central and southwest Sudan, and splits control over important grazing lands with the SAF.

What has been the toll on Sudan’s citizens?

One of the war’s distinguishing horrors has been repeated incidents of civilian killings.

Both sides have been accused of war crimes that include targeted attacks on civilians, medical centers and food systems. Mass killings in Khartoum, Darfur, Kordofan, Gezira, Sennar and White Nile states reflect the general scope of slaughter that has swept the country.

In some instances, this violence has taken on a decidedly ethnic dimension. Human Rights Watch reports that from late April to early November 2023, the RSF and its allied militias systematically sought to remove — including by murder — ethnic Masalit people from El Geneina, capital of West Darfur.

In October 2025, following the RAF’s siege of el-Fasher, the world watched in horror as satellite images of “clusters” consistent with bodies and blood-red discoloration could be seen on the ground. The U.N. Security Council held an emergency meeting condemning the RSF’s killing of nearly 500 people in el-Fasher’s Saudi Maternity Hospital.

More than 9.5 million people are classified as internally displaced, having fled violence. The International Organization for Migration reports that North and South Darfur states host the largest number of internally displaced people, followed by Central and East Darfur states.

Meanwhile, over 4 million have fled to the neighboring countries of Egypt, South Sudan and Chad.

Image sources:

FD-63 – Dağlıoğlu Silah,
Saiga MK .223, Kalashnikov Group,
Tigr DMR, Kalashnikov Group,
M05E1, Zastava Arms,
PP87 82MM mortar bomb, Amnesty International,
CKJ-G7 drone jammer, Amnesty International,
Streit Gladiator, Streit Group,
Terrier LT-79, Streit Group,
INKAS Titan-S, INKAS Armored Vehicles

Christopher Tounsel 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. Sudan’s civil war: A visual guide to the brutal conflict – https://theconversation.com/sudans-civil-war-a-visual-guide-to-the-brutal-conflict-271429

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Carrie McDonough, Associate Professor of Chemistry, Carnegie Mellon University

From beginning to end, 2025 was a year of devastation for scientists in the United States.

January saw the abrupt suspension of key operations across the National Institutes of Health, not only disrupting clinical trials and other in-progress studies but stalling grant reviews and other activities necessary to conduct research. Around the same time, the Trump administration issued executive orders declaring there are only two sexes and ending DEI programs. The Trump administration also removed public data and analysis tools related to health disparties, climate change and environmental justice, among other databases.

February and March saw a steep undercutting of federal support for the infrastructure crucial to conducting research as well as the withholding of federal funding from several universities.

And over the course of the following months, billions of dollars of grants supporting research projects across disciplines, institutions and states were terminated. These include funding already spent on in-progress studies that have been forced to end before completion. Federal agencies, including NASA, the Environmental Protection Agency, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration and the U.S. Agency for International Development have been downsized or dismantled altogether.

The Conversation asked researchers from a range of fields to share how the Trump administration’s science funding cuts have affected them. All describe the significant losses they and their communities have experienced. But many also voice their determination to continue doing work they believe is crucial to a healthier, safer and more fair society.

Pipeline of new scientists cut off

Carrie McDonough, Associate Professor of Chemistry, Carnegie Mellon University

People are exposed to thousands of synthetic chemicals every day, but the health risks those chemicals pose are poorly understood. I was a co-investigator on a US$1.5 million grant from the EPA to develop machine-learning techniques for rapid chemical safety assessment. My lab was two months into our project when it was terminated in May because it no longer aligned with agency priorities, despite the administration’s Make America Healthy Again report specifically highlighting using AI to rapidly assess childhood chemical exposures as a focus area.

Labs like mine are usually pipelines for early-career scientists to enter federal research labs, but the uncertain future of federal research agencies has disrupted this process. I’m seeing recent graduates lose federal jobs, and countless opportunities disappear. Students who would have been the next generation of scientists helping to shape environmental regulations to protect Americans have had their careers altered forever.

I’ve been splitting my time between research, teaching and advocating for academic freedom and the economic importance of science funding because I care deeply about the scientific and academic excellence of this country and its effects on the world. I owe it to my students and the next generation to make sure people know what’s at stake.

Fewer people trained to treat addiction

Cara Poland, Associate Professor of Obstetrics, Gynecology and Reproductive Biology, Michigan State University

I run a program that has trained 20,000 health care practitioners across the U.S. on how to effectively and compassionately treat addiction in their communities. Most doctors aren’t trained to treat addiction, leaving patients without lifesaving care and leading to preventable deaths.

This work is personal: My brother died from substance use disorder. Behind every statistic is a family like mine, hoping for care that could save their loved one’s life.

With our federal funding cut by 60%, my team and I are unable to continue developing our addiction medicine curriculum and enrolling medical schools and clinicians into our program.

Meanwhile, addiction-related deaths continue to rise as the U.S. health system loses its capacity to deliver effective treatment. These setbacks ripple through hospitals and communities, perpetuating treatment gaps and deepening the addiction crisis.

Communities left to brave extreme weather alone

Brian G. Henning, Professor of Philosophy and Environmental Studies and Sciences, Gonzaga University

In 2021, a heat dome settled over the Northwest, shattering temperature records and claiming lives. Since that devastating summer, my team and I have been working with the City of Spokane to prepare for the climate challenges ahead.

We and the city were awarded a $19.9 million grant from the EPA to support projects that reduce pollution, increase community climate resilience and build capacity to address environmental and climate justice challenges.

As our work was about to begin, the Trump administration rescinded our funding in May. As a result, the five public facilities that were set to serve as hubs for community members to gather during extreme weather will be less equipped to handle power failures. Around 300 low-income households will miss out on efficient HVAC system updates. And our local economy will lose the jobs and investments these projects would have generated.

Despite this setback, the work will continue. My team and I care about our neighbors, and we remain focused on helping our community become more resilient to extreme heat and wildfires. This includes pursuing new funding to support this work. It will be smaller, slower and with fewer resources than planned, but we are not deterred.

LGBTQ+ people made invisible

Nathaniel M. Tran, Assistant Professor of Health Policy and Administration, University of Illinois Chicago

This year nearly broke me as a scientist.

Shortly after coming into office, the Trump administration began targeting research projects focusing on LGBTQ+ health for early termination. I felt demoralized after receiving termination letters from the NIH for my own project examining access to preventive services and home-based care among LGBTQ+ older adults. The disruption of publicly funded research projects wastes millions of dollars from existing contracts.

Then, news broke that the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention would no longer process or make publicly available the LGBTQ+ demographic data that public health researchers like me rely on.

But instead of becoming demoralized, I grew emboldened: I will not be erased, and I will not let the LGBTQ+ community be erased. These setbacks renewed my commitment to advancing the public’s health, guided by rigorous science, collaboration and equity.

Pediatric brain cancer research squelched

Rachael Sirianni, Professor of Neurological Surgery, UMass Chan Medical School

My lab designs new cancer treatments. We are one of only a few groups in the nation focused on treating pediatric cancer that has spread across the brain and spinal cord. This research is being crushed by the broad, destabilizing impacts of federal cuts to the NIH.

Compared to last year, I am working with around 25% of our funding and less than 50% of our staff. We cannot finish our studies, publish results or pursue new ideas. We have lost technology in development. Students and colleagues are leaving as training opportunities and hope for the future of science dries up.

I’m faced with impossible questions about what to do next. Do I use my dwindling research funds to maintain personnel who took years to train? Keep equipment running? Bet it all on one final, risky study? There are simply no good choices remaining.

Inequality in science festers

Stephanie Nawyn, Associate Professor of Sociology, Michigan State University

Many people have asked me how the termination of my National Science Foundation grant to improve work cultures in university departments has affected me, but I believe that is the wrong question. Certainly it has meant the loss of publications, summer funding for faculty and graduate students, and opportunities to make working conditions at my and my colleagues’ institutions more equitable and inclusive.

But the greatest effects will come from the widespread terminations across science as a whole, including the elimination of NSF programs dedicated to improving gender equity in science and technology. These terminations are part of a broader dismantling of science and higher education that will have cascading negative effects lasting decades.

Infrastructure for knowledge production that took years to build cannot be rebuilt overnight.

Carrie McDonough receives funding from the U.S. EPA. She previously led the Pittsburgh chapter of Stand Up for Science and volunteers with Indivisible Pittsburgh, Casa San Jose and Pittsburgh Healthcare Workers and Scientists.

Brian G. Henning received funding from the Environmental Protection Agency.

Cara Poland receives funding from the Michigan Health Endowment Fund, the State of Michigan, and SAMHSA. She previously received funding from NIDA, Blue Cross Blue Shield Foundation of Michigan, and Michigan Opioid Partnership. She is the vice president and legislative and public policy chair of the American Society of Addiction Medicine and opioid task force chair of the Michigan State Medical Society.

Nathaniel M. Tran receives funding from the National Institute on Aging, RRF Foundation on Aging, and the University of Illinois Chicago.

Rachael Sirianni receives funding from the National Institutes of Health and Ian’s Friends Foundation. She is a member of the Board of Directors for the nonprofit fundraising group Cofund Connect, Inc. She previously received funding from the Department of Defense, the National Science Foundation, the Ben and Catherine Ivy Foundation, the Morgan Adams Foundation, the Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis Foundation, and the Matthew Larson Foundation.

Stephanie J. Nawyn received funding from the National Science Foundation.

– ref. ‘This year nearly broke me as a scientist’ – US researchers reflect on how 2025’s science cuts have changed their lives – https://theconversation.com/this-year-nearly-broke-me-as-a-scientist-us-researchers-reflect-on-how-2025s-science-cuts-have-changed-their-lives-271282