Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Sara Oscar, Senior Lecturer, Visual Communication, School of Design, University of Technology Sydney

Surrealists believed in the power of dreams. Inspired by Freud’s theories of the unconscious and dream-work, André Breton saw the irrationality of dreams as an artistic method capable of revealing new, revolutionary ways of being.

A century later, what it means to dream stretches beyond the unconscious into the disembodied processes of machine systems.

Dreams have become a metaphor for how artificial intelligence metabolises information and produces “AI slop”.

Opting out of AI systems is no longer possible. Any digitised trace will eventually reappear as a synthetic output. As AI conjures us from our information, its neural processes exceed our comprehension – amplifying our biases in the service of capitalism.

Data Dreams at the Museum of Contemporary Art brings together artists who make these tensions visible.

AI and the ‘social dream’

Hito Steyerl argues generative AI produces “mean images”: statistical averages derived from training datasets. They are “social dreams without sleep”, reflecting what society pays attention to.

Steyerl’s video installation Mechanical Kurds features footage from the Domiz refugee camp in Iraq. She follows Kurdish refugee click workers who annotate data for the warfare systems that monitor them.

Sculptural supports in the gallery space echo the bounding boxes which appear on screen. They are subtle reminders we are enmeshed in these infrastructures.

Lynn Hershman Leeson’s video works explore the political stakes of AI. In Logic Paralyzes the Heart and Cyborgian Rhapsody, her cyborg protagonists move between questions of military surveillance, facial recognition systems, machine hallucination and the rapid obsolescence built into technology.

Staging dialogues between humans and machine doubles, she exposes the instability of human agency when machines are involved with our social interactions and creative lives.

Trevor Paglen’s series of AI generated images, Adversarially Evolved Hallucinations, turns to the instability of perception in machine vision.

The images are created with early machine learning algorithms, known as GANs and are printed using photographic processes.

Paglen suggests these “hallucinations” sit at the edge of what is classifiable and visible. This insight into how algorithms “see” shapes our vision.

Kate Crawford and Vladan Joler’s Anatomy of an AI System maps the social and material infrastructures of an Amazon Echo.

Their diagram traces the machine’s full life cycle alongside dissected components and raw minerals. The work reveals how deeply AI is embedded in ecological and economic systems, competing for the resources that sustain life – only to eventually be discarded as toxic e-waste.

Material ecologies

We are invited to consider whether AI might be a collaborator in helping us understand what intelligence is, and what might constitute a generative system.

Agnieszka Kurant’s sculptures and paintings suggest intelligence is not strictly a human concept. She works with biologists to reveal origins of life through computation. Her temperature-sensitive shifting copper colour fields respond to human sentiments expressed on social media.

Her works are wild in their premise and execution. They prompt us to comprehend the ways machines and minerals expand how we see the world beyond ourselves.

Anicka Yi’s jellyfish-like organisms feature in a kinetic sculptural installation and video piece generated by an AI model trained on her past work. These forms take on a kind of speculative biology while visualising the earliest forms of life on Earth.

This is echoed in Angie Abdilla’s video installation using machine learning to visualise Big Bang narratives alongside Aboriginal creation stories.

Dreaming of speculative time

The broad stakes of what it means to dream in this exhibition are the ways AI is used to visualise history, predict the future and question who gets to do so.

Fabian Giraud’s meditative video piece, The Feral, employs AI as the algorithmic custodian of a collective thousand-year artwork. Artists across generations will construct “epochs” that teach the evolving system how to see.

The current epoch, produced by Giraud, marks the first of these iterations. The video piece depicts a scene from 1,000 years ago, following villagers in a forest as they ponder the end of humanity after consuming a psychoactive substance.

Giraud deftly points to the enduring importance of language in training AI systems with resonances to mythical ideas of being “human”. AI is employed as a poetic and speculative device, allowing us to think about histories and the future while it serves as a witness to our evolving humanity.

Christopher Kulendran Thomas’ installation was shot partly on Tamil homeland, now inaccessible due to government restrictions. The work overlays generated footage, deepfakes and scraped social-media text to write a counterfactual political history.

The work is installed among reflective screens, with new dialogue and footage with every screening cycle. The video relies on an algorithm to scrape social media for new content, producing an unstable and unpredictable reality mirroring our age of misinformation.

Dreaming, again

These works prompt consideration of what happens when our social encounters, and even our sense of time, are increasingly mediated by AI. What becomes of dreaming?

This is where Breton’s defence of the dream as unruly, embodied and resistant to productivity logic feels newly relevant.

Defending the act of dreaming may be more a political declaration than a nostalgic reversion. It suggests a desire to question how we can use AI to imagine differently, and to dream speculatively, wildly about what is possible rather than plausible.

This might be one of the last terrains to resist algorithmic optimisation or slop-ification.

Data Dreams: Art and AI is at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Sydney, until April 27 2026.

Sara Oscar 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. AI ‘dreams’ up new realities. How does this impact the way we understand our own dreaming? – https://theconversation.com/ai-dreams-up-new-realities-how-does-this-impact-the-way-we-understand-our-own-dreaming-269595

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Jessica Russ-Smith, Associate Professor, Social Work and Deputy Head of School, School of Allied Health, Australian Catholic University

In the eyes of big AI companies such as OpenAI, the troves of data on the internet are highly valuable. They scrape photos, videos, books, blog posts, albums, painting, photographs and much more to train their products such as ChatGPT – usually without any compensation to or consent from the creators.

In fact, OpenAI and Google are arguing that a part of American copyright law, known as the “fair use doctrine”, legitimises this data theft. Ironically, OpenAI has also accused other AI giants of data scraping “its” intellectual property.

First Nations communities around the world are looking at these scenes with knowing familiarity. Long before the advent of AI, peoples, the land, and their knowledges were treated in a similar way – exploited by colonial powers for their own benefit.

What’s happening with AI is a kind of “digital colonialism”, in which powerful (mostly Western) tech giants are using algorithms, data and digital technologies to exert power over others, and take data without consent. But resistance is possible – and the long history of First Nations resistance demonstrates how people might go about it.

The fiction of terra nullius

Terra nullius is a Latin term that translates to “no one’s land” or “land belonging to no one”. It was used by colonisers to “legally” – at least by the laws of the colonisers – lay claim to land.

The legal fiction of terra nullius in Australia was overturned in the landmark 1992 Mabo case. This case recognised the land rights of the Meriam peoples, First Nations of the Murray Islands, as well as the ongoing connection to land of First Nations peoples in Australia.

In doing so, it overturned terra nullius in a legal sense, leading to the Native Title Act 1993.

But we can see traces of the idea of terra nullius in the way AI companies are scraping billions of people’s data from the internet.

It is as though they believe the data belongs to no one – similar to how the British wrongly believed the continent of Australia belonged to no one.

Digital colonialism dressed up as consent

While data is scraped without our knowledge, a more insidious way digital colonialism materialises is in the coercive relinquishing of our data through bundled consent.

Have you had to click “accept all” after a required phone update or to access your bank account? Congratulations! You have made a Hobson’s choice: in reality, the only option is to “agree”.

What would happen if you didn’t tick “yes”, if you chose to reject this bundled consent? You might not be able to bank or use your phone. It’s possible your healthcare might also suffer.

It might appear you have options. But if you don’t tick “yes to all”, you’re “choosing” social exclusion.

This approach isn’t new. While terra nullius was a colonial strategy to claim resources and land, Hobson’s choices are implemented as a means of assimilation into dominant cultural norms. Don’t dress “professionally”? You won’t get the job, or you’ll lose the one you have.

Resisting digital terra nullius

So, is assimilation our only choice?

No. In fact, generations of resistance teach us many ways to fight terra nullius and survive.

Since colonial invasion, First Nations communities have resisted colonialism, asserting over centuries that it “always was and always will be Aboriginal land”.

Resistance is needed at all levels of society – from the individual to local and global communities. First Nations communities’ survival proclamations and protests can provide valuable direction – as the Mabo case showed – for challenging and changing legal doctrines that are used to claim knowledge.

Resistance is already happening, with waves of lawsuits alleging AI data scraping violates intellectual property laws. For example, in October, online platform Reddit sued AI start-up Perplexity for scraping copyrighted material to train its model.

In September, AI company Anthropic also settled a class action lawsuit launched by authors who argued the company took pirated copies of books to train its chatbot – to the tune of US$1.5 billion.

The rise of First Nations data sovereignty movements also offers a path forward. Here, data is owned and governed by local communities, with the agency to decide what, when and how data is used (and the right to refuse its use at any point) retained in these communities.

A data sovereign future could include elements of “continuity of consent” where data is stored only on the devices of the individual or community, and companies would need to request access to data every time they want to use it.

Community-governed changes to data consent processes and legalisation would allow communities – whether defined by culture, geography, jurisdiction, or shared interest – to collectively negotiate ongoing access to their data.

In doing so, our data would no longer be considered a digital terra nullius, and AI companies would be forced to affirm – through action – that data belongs to the people.

AI companies might seem all-powerful, like many colonial empires once did. But, as Pemulwuy and other First Nations warriors demonstrated, there are many ways to resist.

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. ‘Digital colonialism’: how AI companies are following the playbook of empire – https://theconversation.com/digital-colonialism-how-ai-companies-are-following-the-playbook-of-empire-269285

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Clare Davidson, Research Fellow, Institute for Humanities and Social Sciences, Australian Catholic University

Earlier this year, a group of researchers published a paper on the remarkable phenomenon of sex reversal in several Australian birds, including wild magpies and kookaburras.

They’ve yet to discover the exact mechanism through which this happens. Nonetheless, their discovery would have fascinated medieval scientists, who were just as engaged in trying to understand sex and gender in the avian world.

Medieval ideas of bird ‘sex’

Sexual differences in birds include anatomical and behavioural characteristics that vary within and across species.

Scientists have found biological triggers for sex-specific traits that may shift during an individual’s lifetime. For example, female ducks and chickens can take on “masculine” attributes once their egg-laying years are over.

The Greek philosopher Aristotle (384–322 BCE) observed similar changes in birds almost 2,400 years ago. His text History of Animals explained that the physical characteristics of sex in chickens and other animals could change according to action and circumstance.

In medieval Europe, the word “sexus” was used to refer to everything people now label as “sex”, “gender” and “sexuality”.

Research on sexus occurred in all the places of medieval science: schools, universities, monasteries, households, workshops and natural landscapes. Medieval people developed their own experiments and theories based on their lived experiences.

Those who read Latin or Greek studied and revised the findings of ancient authorities such as Aristotle, Galen and Pliny the Elder.

Cultural exchange also helped advance scientific knowledge. The 11th-century physician-monk Constantine the African was one of many who translated Arabic texts for readers of Latin.

Why did medieval scientists research sexus?

Some medieval people wanted to learn about sex and procreation in animals to try to improve their own health.

For instance, Hildegard of Bingen (circa 1098–1179) wrote about sex-specific behaviours and uses of birds in her medical treatise Physica.

She claimed ointments made from the fat of a sparrowhawk mixed with botanical ingredients could inhibit sexual arousal. Until this has been tested, we will remain sceptical (although other strange medieval medicines have proven surprisingly effective).

The findings of Frederick II

Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II (1194–1250) was a passionate falconer, which means he trained birds of prey to hunt wild animals. He studied all kinds of birds and developed evidence based theories about them. He even owned an Australasian cockatoo.

Frederick wrote a treatise, The Art of Hunting with Birds, based on decades of his work and research. In it, he observed that sexual behaviours and reproduction differed between species of birds. Similarly, scientists today use reproductive isolation to classify different species.

Some of Frederick’s ideas are outdated, such as his explanation for why female raptors grow larger than males. His theory was based on “humoralism” – an ancient system of medicine in which four bodily fluids (blood, phlegm, yellow bile and black bile) were thought to correspond to four qualities (dry, hot, cold and moist), and that all of these influenced animal physiology, including sexus.

Modern scientists think females may grow larger because this allows them to better defend their nest – but this is still being questioned.

Many of Frederick’s findings align with current knowledge about bird anatomy, pair-bonding, migration, sexual reproduction and the rearing of offspring. For example, after observing that parrots have thick tongues, he deduced this is what allows them to imitate human voices. Today’s scientists agree.

The term “cuckold” can also be traced back to medieval understandings of cuckoos, which sneak their eggs into other birds’ nests to be raised.

Frederick II verified this behaviour himself. He carefully fed an unfamiliar nestling until he could identify it as a young cuckoo. The cuckoo’s cross-species brood parasitism continues to be studied by researchers today.

Spotting variable behaviours

Birds in medieval times were often associated with unconventional sexual behaviours.

Bestiaries (collections of moralised information about animals) claimed female vultures could conceive without males. This is called “parthenogenesis” and it does happen – although it’s rare.

Some bestiaries claimed female partridges were impregnated via scent. Although this isn’t backed by modern science, partridges and other land fowls are now known for their variable breeding strategies.

For example, some females lay eggs in two nests so one can be incubated by the male. This behaviour, known as double-nesting, was also observed by Aristotle.

Bestiaries also reported same-sex pairings in various bird species – something modern researchers have likewise observed.

Scientific scrutiny

Like today, theories back then were disputed and tested. The barnacle goose was once said to grow on wood at sea rather than hatching from eggs. It’s possible people who saw goose barnacles thought they were the early forms of a barnacle goose.

In search of proof, Frederick sent expeditions to bring specimens of timber for observation, finding no evidence of avian bodies.

The philosopher Albert the Great called the theory “entirely absurd” in his 13th-century text On Animals. Nonetheless, the legend endured into the 17th century and is referenced in William Shakespeare’s play The Tempest.

Modern scientists don’t yet know what causes sex reversal in native Australian birds. But the recent findings, along with the history of medieval science, remind us how ideas of “nature” and “sex” have always been tested and revised.

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. Bird sex fascinated medieval thinkers as much as people today – https://theconversation.com/bird-sex-fascinated-medieval-thinkers-as-much-as-people-today-267969

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Daniel Mills, Professor of Veterinary Behavioural Medicine, University of Lincoln

Humans have probably shared their homes with dogs ever since they first settled. So it could be argued that there is no such thing as “human society” without including animals as part of it. Our long shared history with dogs has even be described as a form of co-evolution.

And a new study my colleagues at Cambridge and I published shows golden retrievers and humans seem to share a genetic basis for at least some behaviour.

Dogs show many adaptations that might help them live and co-operate with people. Ancient humans may even have been selected dogs’ ancestors for an ability to eat a more human diet than wolves. At a psychological level there are many adaptations that aid communication between the two species, like an ability to follow human gestures such as pointing, that exceeds that of our closest relatives, chimpanzees.

Dogs also appear to be exceptionally skilled at responding appropriately to human emotion. But it is not all one sided. Humans seem to show an intuitive understanding of the nature of dogs’ vocalisations.

Nowadays, our relationship includes sharing the hustle and bustle that is so often a feature of modern living. So it is not surprising that there is an exceptionally high prevalence of stress-related problems arising in dogs, especially in countries like the US.

This has led researchers to question to what extent we might share mental health problems too. Recently there have been several claims about the potential for an autism-like syndrome in dogs. In March 2025, a similar genetic marker was identified for some of the social problems related to autism.

Our study has taken this genetic search to another level. My team and I analysed the genetic code and behaviour of 1,300 golden retrievers, looking for genes associated with their behavioural traits. “Equivalent” genes in humans, inherited from the same evolutionary ancestor, were then identified.

They also identified the genes’ associations with a range of human intelligence, mental health and emotional processes. I specialise in studying and managing companion animal emotions at the University of Lincoln, and so I worked with the team to explore the psychobiological basis to these traits.

We identified 12 genes where there seemed to be a connection between dogs and humans that related to similar psychological functioning. Some of these were closely aligned in terms of the emotional responses they produced, for example responses related to non-social anxiety. However, in other cases the link was perhaps less obvious.

But we formed hypotheses that may explain the association. When we did this, we found logical reasons to support the similarities we saw in the genetic associations in humans and golden retrievers.

For example, the canine gene ADD2 was associated with fear of strangers, but in humans was related to depression. A key characteristic of depression in people is social withdrawal, so we suspect there may be a common genetic link, which manifests in dogs (who are generally hypersocial) as stranger anxiety.

Other potential associations were with human conditions that involved complex cognitive processes, like self reflection, which are not thought to occur in dogs. However, as we looked more deeply into the range of human associations we could identify potential reasons for even some of these associations.

For example, trainability in dogs tended to be linked to genes in humans that are connected to not only intelligence but also sensitivity about being wrong. As far as we know, dogs cannot project themselves and their circumstances in the abstract ways people can, but they can certainly vary in their sensitivity to unpleasant experiences. so this might form the basis of the common genetic root between the two species.

The results provide a great basis for future studies in comparative and evolutionary psychiatry. As, Eleanor Raffan, a vet and assistant professor of physiology who led the Cambridge side of this research, said: “The findings are really striking – they provide strong evidence that humans and golden retrievers have shared genetic roots for their behaviour. The genes we identified frequently influence emotional states and behaviour in both species.”

There are, of course, differences in the ways that humans and dogs experience their
emotions. A lot of human emotion is tied up in complex thought processes. However, that does not undermine the importance of related conditions that might reflect mental health or suffering.

Enoch Alex, the first author of the report and a PhD candidate in the department of physiology, development, and neuroscience, summed this up: “These results show that genetics govern behaviour, making some dogs predisposed to finding the world stressful. If their life experiences compound this, they might act in ways we interpret as bad behaviour, when really they’re distressed”.

Although it might be tempting to sometimes dismiss academic work on dogs as somewhat frivolous, in this new work, there are hints at an important new role for dogs in our shared society: as natural models of mental health issues.

Daniel Mills 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. Golden retriever and human behaviour may be linked by the same genes – new research – https://theconversation.com/golden-retriever-and-human-behaviour-may-be-linked-by-the-same-genes-new-research-270402

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Ray Brescia, Associate Dean for Research and Intellectual Life, Albany Law School

A federal judge on Nov. 24, 2025, dismissed the indictments against former FBI Director James B. Comey and New York Attorney General Letitia James, blocking the Department of Justice’s efforts to prosecute two of President Donald Trump’s perceived adversaries.

But U.S. District Judge Cameron McGowan Currie qualified her dismissals, saying she did so “without prejudice.”

What does that legal term mean?

Unaddressed charges

In her ruling, Currie concluded that the appointment of interim U.S. Attorney Lindsey Halligan, who filed the cases against Comey and James, was unlawful. Currie wrote:

“Because Ms. Halligan had no lawful authority to present the indictment, I will grant Mr. Comey’s motion and dismiss the indictment without prejudice.”

She wrote the same about the case against James.

Currie’s “without prejudice” reference means the dismissal did not address what legal scholars like me call the merits or substance of the underlying criminal charges.

A “without prejudice” dismissal is legalese for “you can try again if you can fix the problems with your case.” Had the judge ruled that the dismissals were “with prejudice,” that would have meant the government could not have brought the cases again.

Here’s what prosecutors would need to fix to be able to bring cases against Comey and James again.

Federal law provides that whenever a U.S. attorney’s position is vacant, the attorney general may appoint an interim U.S. attorney for a period of 120 days. At the end of that period, it’s up to the federal judges of the district where that position is vacant to appoint someone to continue in that role unless and until the president nominates, and the Senate confirms, a U.S. attorney through the normal appointments process.

The Trump administration appointed Halligan’s predecessor, U.S. Attorney Erik Siebert, in that interim role in January 2025. And when the 120 days from his appointment lapsed, the district judges of the Eastern District of Virginia selected him to continue on in his interim role.

Currie found that when Siebert resigned after his reappointment, that did not empower the Trump administration to appoint a new interim prosecutor. The power still resided with the District Court judges. Because of that, Halligan’s appointment and her efforts to secure the Comey and James indictments were void.

The end of the beginning

The Department of Justice can certainly appeal these rulings and could get them reversed on appeal, or it could refile them after a new U.S. attorney is named in accordance with law.

It may be too late for the case against Comey, however, because the statute of limitations on those charges has already run out. As Currie noted in her Comey ruling, while the statute of limitations is generally suspended when a valid indictment has been filed, an invalid indictment, like the one against Comey, would not have the same effect on the statute of limitations.

That means the time has likely run out on the claims against the former FBI director.

If Currie’s rulings stand, the Justice Department can’t just file the cases again, with Halligan still in this role, unless the Trump administration follows the procedures set forth in the law for her proper appointment.

While this is not the beginning of the end for these prosecutions, it is, at least, the end of the beginning.

Ray Brescia 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. ‘Without prejudice’: What this 2-word legalese means for the dismissed charges against James Comey and Letitia James – https://theconversation.com/without-prejudice-what-this-2-word-legalese-means-for-the-dismissed-charges-against-james-comey-and-letitia-james-270559

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Kenny Monrose, Researcher, Department of Sociology, University of Cambridge

“I have a dislike for politicians as they’re not truthful people. It’s the nature of politics that you cannot be straight, you have to lie and cheat,” said the reggae singer Jimmy Cliff, who died on November 24 at the age of 81.

Cliff was born James Chambers on July 30 July 1944 in Somerton, Saint James Parish, Jamaica. Long before luminaries such as Bob Andy, the Wailers, Lee Perry and others had made an indelible mark on Jamaican popular music, Cliff had taken the genre to “foreign” – not just to the US or the UK but around the world. Suffice to say Cliff was reggae’s first international star.

His career started seriously with ska recordings for legendary Chinese-Jamaican producer Leslie Kong on his Beverly’s label. As well as being a musician, Cliff acted as an artist and repertoire representative, finding and developing new talent for Kong.

Cliff, at the request of singer Desmond Dekker, invited Bob Marley to record his first song Judge Not at Federal studios in 1962. In the same year, Cliff recorded Hurricane Hattie, a number about the tropical cyclone that devastated the Caribbean, significantly British Honduras, in 1961.

Some of Cliff’s subsequent early hits included Miss Jamaica and King of Kings, both of which showcased his lyrical dexterity on the frenetic tempo of ska.

Cliff had a knack of reflecting world events in his music at any given opportunity. By the end of 1960s, through his material he became one of the strongest advocates of the growing anti-war movement, typified by the 1968 recording Vietnam.

Vietnam, for me, was an incredibly courageous song to be recorded at the time. It is reminiscent of Wilfred Owens’s first world war poems “Futility” and “Dulce et Decorum Est” that reflect the ineffectuality of war.

In it, he sings:

Don’t be alarmed, she told me the telegram said
But mistress Brown your son is dead.
Vietnam, Vietnam, Vietnam
What I’m saying now somebody stop that war

The importance and power of protest against war loom at the epicentre of this song, making it resonate today.

Similarly, Cliff’s soul wrenching crossover hit Many Rivers to Cross, again recorded in 1968, is a cry for resilience. It became an anthem for Windrush arrivals who had left the Caribbean and sojourned to the mother country of Britain.

It represented Cliff, who moved to London in the mid-60s and frequently recounted how difficult it was for him. Today it is suitably applicable for those who have felt the sting of displacement, loneliness, heartbreak and loss anywhere.

Struggling Man from 1973 opens with:

Every man has a right to live.
Love is all that we have to give.
Together we struggle by your will to survive,
and together we fight just to stay alive.

This composition highlighted the political climate and general feeling of the 1970s nationally with the start of a series of recessions gripping the country. But it also reached globally with the emergence of the international oil crisis, which impacted the lives of masses.

Cliff was unquestionably a renaissance man who deftly moved with ease from being a singer to songwriter and then actor. Many recount his role as Rhyging, the anti-hero of Perry Henzell’s 1972 film The Harder They Come. Ivanhoe Martin (Jimmy Cliff), aka Rhyging, is a struggling singer who, despite hits, resorts to crime to get by. The film highlighted the corruption and exploitation in Jamaica’s music industry.

As well as acting in the film, Cliff provided the heart of the film’s soundtrack with the title track, The Harder They Come. Three of his earlier songs also feature. His turn in the Jamaican crime film is seen as one of the most powerful cinematic performances in Jamaican cinema.

In the 80s, Cliff returned to his reggae roots recording Rub-A-Dub Partner in 1981. He also contributed to the emergence of reggae dancehall culture in 1988 when he recorded Pressure on Botha with the uncompromising Jamaican deejay Joey Wales. The song is a political track hitting out against the then state president of South Africa, P.W. Botha, who was a central figure in the Apartheid regime.

Cliff was without doubt the greatest exponent of Jamaican music, taking reggae to an international audience while placing the island firmly on the map. As an artist, his contribution was accomplished within each category of the genre, from ska through to dancehall.

It was not only reggae that benefited from the brilliance of Jimmy Cliff, as he worked with a number of artists from a broad range of musical backgrounds, including the Rolling Stones, Sting, Latoya Jackson, Kool and the Gang, Jimmi Hendrix, Elvis Costello and Annie Lennox, to name but a few. After recording 33 albums, 50 years of performing and winning a Grammy in 1986, Jimmy Cliff was inducted to the Rock and Rock Hall of Fame.

For a man who said he hated politics, it is exactly his uncompromising sense of right and his engagement with the world that will make his legacy everlasting.

Kenny Monrose 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 uncompromising politics of Jimmy Cliff – https://theconversation.com/the-uncompromising-politics-of-jimmy-cliff-270596

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Deborah Lee, Professor and Director of Research Impact and AI Strategy, Mississippi State University

Three years ago, if someone needed to fix a leaky faucet or understand inflation, they usually did one of three things: typed the question into Google, searched YouTube for a how-to video or shouted desperately at Alexa for help.

Today, millions of people start with a different approach: They open ChatGPT and just ask.

I’m a professor and director of research impact and AI strategy at Mississippi State University Libraries. As a scholar who studies information retrieval, I see that this shift of the tool people reach for first for finding information is at the heart of how ChatGPT has changed everyday technology use.

Change in searching

The biggest change isn’t that other tools have vanished. It’s that ChatGPT has become the new front door to information. Within months of its introduction on Nov. 30, 2022, ChatGPT had 100 million weekly users. By late 2025, that figure had grown to 800 million. That makes it one of the most widely used consumer technologies on the planet.

Surveys show that this use isn’t just curiosity – it reflects a real change in behavior. A 2025 Pew Research Center study found that 34% of U.S. adults have used ChatGPT, roughly double the share found in 2023. Among adults under 30, a clear majority (58%) have tried it. An AP-NORC poll reports that about 60% of U.S. adults who use AI say they use it to search for information, making this the most common AI use case. The number rises to 74% for the under-30 crowd.

Traditional search engines are still the backbone of the online information ecosystem, but the kind of searching people do has shifted in measurable ways since ChatGPT entered the scene. People are changing which tool they reach for first.

For years, Google was the default for everything from “how to reset my router” to “explain the debt ceiling.” These basic informational queries made up a huge portion of search traffic. But these quick, clarifying, everyday “what does this mean” questions are the ones ChatGPT now answers faster and more cleanly than a page of links.

And people have noticed. A 2025 U.S. consumer survey found that 55% of respondents now use OpenAI’s ChatGPT or Google’s Gemini AI chatbots about tasks they previously would have asked Google search to help them with, with even higher usage figures for the U.K. Another analysis of more than 1 billion search sessions found that traffic from generative AI platforms is growing 165 times faster than traditional searches, and about 13 million U.S. adults have already made generative AI their go-to tool for online discovery.

This doesn’t mean people have stopped “Googling,” but it means ChatGPT has peeled off the kinds of questions for which users want a direct explanation instead of a list of links. Curious about a policy update? Need a definition? Want a polite way to respond to an uncomfortable email? ChatGPT is faster, feels more conversational and feels more definitive.

At the same time, Google isn’t standing still. Its search results look different than they did three years ago because Google started weaving its AI system Gemini directly into the top of the page. The “AI Overview” summaries that appear above traditional search links now instantly answer many simple questions – sometimes accurately, sometimes less so.

But either way, many people never scroll past that AI-generated snapshot. This fact combined with the impact of ChatGPT are the reasons the number of “zero-click” searches has surged. One report using Similarweb data found that traffic from Google to news sites fell from over 2.3 billion visits in mid-2024 to under 1.7 billion in May 2025, while the share of news-related searches ending in zero clicks jumped from 56% to 69% in one year.

Google search excels at pointing to a wide range of sources and perspectives, but the results can feel cluttered and designed more for clicks than clarity. ChatGPT, by contract, delivers a more focused and conversational response that prioritizes explanation over ranking. The ChatGPT response can lack the source transparency and multiple viewpoints often found in a Google search.

In terms of accuracy, both tools can occasionally get it wrong. Google’s strength lies in letting users cross-check multiple sources, while ChatGPT’s accuracy depends heavily on the quality of the prompt and the user’s ability to recognize when a response should be verified elsewhere.

Smart speakers and YouTube

The impact of ChatGPT has reverberated beyond search engines. Voice assistants, such as Alexa speakers and Google Home, continue to report high ownership, but that number is down slightly. One 2025 summary of voice-search statistics estimates that about 34% of people ages 12 and up own a smart speaker, down from 35% in 2023. This is not a dramatic decline, but the lack of growth may indicate a shift of more complex queries to ChatGPT or similar tools. When people want a detailed explanation, a step-by-step plan or help drafting something, a voice assistant that answers in a short sentence suddenly feels limited.

By contrast, YouTube remains a giant. As of 2024, it had approximately 2.74 billion users, with that number increasing steadily since 2010. Among U.S. teens, about 90% say they use YouTube, making it the most widely used platform in that age group. But what kind of videos people are looking for is changing.

People now tend to start with ChatGPT and then move to YouTube if they need the additional information a how-to video conveys. For many everyday tasks, such as “explain my health benefits” or “help me write a complaint email,” people ask ChatGPT for a summary, script or checklist. They head to YouTube only if they need to see a physical process.

You can see a similar pattern in more specialized spaces. Software engineers, for instance, have long relied on sites such as Stack Overflow for tips and pieces of software code. But question volume there began dropping sharply after ChatGPT’s release, and one analysis suggests overall traffic fell by about 50% between 2022 and 2024. When a chatbot can generate a code snippet and an explanation on demand, fewer people bother typing a question into a public forum.

So where does that leave us?

Three years in, ChatGPT hasn’t replaced the rest of the tech stack; it’s reordered it. The default search has shifted. Search engines are still for deep dives and complex comparisons. YouTube is still for seeing real people do real things. Smart speakers are still for hands-free convenience.

But when people need to figure something out, many now start with a chat conversation, not a search box. That’s the real ChatGPT effect: It didn’t just add another app to our phones – it quietly changed how we look things up in the first place.

Deborah Lee 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. The ChatGPT effect: In 3 years the AI chatbot has changed the way people look things up – https://theconversation.com/the-chatgpt-effect-in-3-years-the-ai-chatbot-has-changed-the-way-people-look-things-up-270143

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Nadeem O. Kaakoush, Scientia Associate Professor, Host-Microbiome Interactions Group, UNSW Sydney

When most people think about donating body parts to science or medicine, they might think of life-saving donations of organs, tissues or blood. But you can also donate your poo.

The idea is to use it for poo transplants, otherwise known as faecal microbiota transplantation. That’s when poo products made from healthy donor poo are transplanted into another person to improve their health.

Scientists like myself rely on poo donations to run clinical trials into this type of research. Some clinics rely on poo donations to treat patients.

To put it bluntly, we rely on people having a shit for science or medicine.

Here’s how to get involved and become a poo donor.

Why would you want to?

Think of a poo donation as donating a different type of “organ”, your gut microbiome. This is the community of microbes in your gut responsible for critical functions in the body, including shaping your immune system and how you metabolise food.

We’re learning more about the gut microbiome all the time. This includes identifying functions important to our health and discovering potential new antimicrobial products derived from poo.

To get involved with this type of science, you’d need to donate your poo or make a series of donations at set times that fit into a study’s design. Your microbiome would be profiled and the data used to answer questions relating to that study.

For instance, it was this type of science that led to researchers learning more about how we share our gut microbiome with our social networks, the people we interact with in person, day to day.

Poo donations can be used to treat people. This is now accepted as an option for recurrent infection with the bacterium Clostridioides difficile that hasn’t responded to conventional treatment.

Poo donations have also been explored to treat inflammatory bowel diseases, irritable bowel syndrome, liver diseases, long-term urinary tract infections, mental health issues, improving cancer immunotherapy, and more.

There’s a hierarchy of poo

Not all poo is created equal. All donations from individuals that pass study inclusion and exclusion criteria are welcome for research. But poo donations for treatment need to pass an exceptional threshold of safety and quality.

These poo donors undergo extensive medical screening before selection because of the many unknowns in poo. When we transplant poo, we want to make sure the donor is free from blood-borne viruses (such as HIV or hepatitis). We also want to make sure their poo is free from parasites, and disease-causing viruses and bacteria (such as C. difficile) and certain antibiotic-resistant bacteria.

To complicate matters, a commitment to donate consistently is expected. With that comes ongoing medical screening, which can be time-consuming.

Donors also have to avoid activities that increase their chances of acquiring a blood-borne infection, such as injecting drugs or having unprotected sex. They also have to avoid visiting countries where traveller’s diarrhoea is common.

Poo stability is also an issue as it doesn’t last long without proper storage. This means poo donation only works if you live or work near one of these sites.

All these restrictions quickly reduce the pool of donors we can recruit.

A decade ago we conducted our own clinical trial and quickly became aware of the difficulties of obtaining and maintaining a source of therapeutic poo.

Out of 116 potential donors we screened, an expensive and time-consuming process, only 12 individuals passed. That’s roughly 10%. Many decided not to participate due to the frequency of donations required. Some had medical conditions, parasites or detectable blood in their poo. Others had risk factors for variant Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, a rare brain disease associated with bovine spongiform encephalopathy (BSE, or “mad cow” disease).

You could improve someone’s life

Is there an upside? You could be saving someone’s life, or at least improving their quality of life significantly.

It is likely your donation will treat someone with recurrent C. difficile infection. Otherwise, it would be used in a clinical trial or study to treat another important medical condition.

As a poo donor, you’d also get a free, extensive and ongoing health check. Depending on where you donate, you might get paid.

However, the more of such health checks you have, the more chance of finding a medical condition (an incidental finding) that may need to be investigated, prompting a cascade of further tests.

Where can I sign up?

There are a number of organisations in Australia that recruit poo donors, including:

• Australian Red Cross Lifeblood recruits unpaid donors in Perth. You can check online if you’re eligible
• BiomeBank is a company that recruits paid donors in Adelaide based on certain criteria and assessments
• the Centre for Digestive Diseases is a private Sydney clinic and research centre that screens donors before selection. Paid donors are asked to follow dietary recommendations to maximise the quality of their donation.

What’s the take-home message?

We’re a long way from replicating the entire gut microbial community in the lab. So we have to rely on live microbial products made from donated poo as research moves from the laboratory bench to the clinic.

As with all health products, the benefits and evidence need to be weighed with caution.

Yet, if we unlock the potential of the gut microbiome via donated poo, this opens exciting avenues to develop probiotics and more therapeutics.

Nadeem O. Kaakoush receives funding from Australia’s National Health and Medical Research Council, and the Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation (US). BiomeBank and Centre for Digestive Diseases, mentioned in the article, currently supply or have previously supplied faecal microbiota transplantation products for clinical trials and studies.

– ref. How to donate your poo to science or medicine – https://theconversation.com/how-to-donate-your-poo-to-science-or-medicine-266361

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Melanie Baak, Senior Lecturer, UniSA Education Futures, University of South Australia

The Australian government’s social media ban will begin in about two weeks. From December 10, those under 16 will no longer be able to have personal accounts on sites such as YouTube, TikTok and Instagram. They will still be able to see publicly accessible content.

A lot of the debate around this change has focused on the harms of these platforms, such as cyberbullying, misinformation and screen addiction.

But we also know social media is an important way for young people to connect, especially for marginalised groups.

Our as yet unpublished new research shows the ban risks harming young Australians of African heritage by limiting vital pathways for identity formation, belonging and connection.

Our research

Since 2023, we have been working on a broader project on African Diaspora Youth Belonging. This has involved nine youth co-researchers from across Australia. Their experiences and reflections form part of the research and they have learned to design and carry out research themselves.

In this particular part of the research, the nine co-researchers conducted two rounds of conversations with 31 other African diaspora young people about belonging in Australia in 2023 and 2024. This included questions about social media use. Young people were invited through personal networks and social media.

Participants came from every state and territory except Tasmania, and from both urban and regional areas. The group included 26 young women, 13 young men, and one participant who identified as trans-female.

While a majority of the participants in our study were aged 17–20, most described having accessed social media from much younger ages.

‘I could actually find people like me’

Our interviewees described social media as a pivotal space for understanding their identity. These platforms enabled participants to “see people like me”, “learn about my culture”, and “find words to describe what I’ve always felt”.

In particular, TikTok, YouTube and Instagram were seen as everyday spaces where Black youth could go to connect. Umar* (18) from South Australia explained,

In Australia, there’s not really too much media for the youth in general, let alone Black youth. The main thing you’ve got is TikTok.

Another participant, Abebi (21) from the ACT, added social media was “always uplifting”:

I could actually find people like me because they were just everyday people posting, especially on YouTube. That was the first place I was able to look at curly hair care videos […] I felt so seen.

‘There’s a lot of people out there who can teach you’

Participants emphasised the information they accessed through social media wasn’t available elsewhere. Tresor (20) from New South Wales told us social media taught him important things he would not learn at school:

for example, what products to use on my hair […] There’s a lot of people out there [on social media] who can really teach you this stuff, and really help you understand how to better yourself as, for me, a Black man.

Keji (18) from the ACT similarly spoke of social media as a resource for learning about identity and culture:

TikTok does not get enough credit for being such a good learning tool […] it’s how I found some of my favourite books and essays that helped me understand who I am.

‘I can be anyone’

Afro-Blackness in Australia is often depicted in negative terms. The African gangs narrative, for example, presents African young people as deviant and a threat to the social order. Participants described how in everyday spaces in Australia, they felt they had to “shut your Blackness down […] because it wasn’t seen as a good thing”.

Social media, however, provided more complex, positive representations of Black identity. For example, Farai, a 21-year-old of Zimbabwean heritage, described how TikTok expanded her understanding of what it means to be Zimbabwean:

If I went online and saw how different everyone is, but they’re still like, yeah, I’m Zimbabwean […] it’s like, okay, I can be anyone, but I’m still Zimbabwean.

Similarly, Venus (18) from the ACT said social media helped her realise “there isn’t one type of Black person […] it’s okay to be different”.

Social media also provided young people with the language and tools for self-advocacy. James (19) from NSW told us:

[I] didn’t really understand what [racism] could look like until I saw Instagram posts and YouTube videos.

‘I could be like that’

Social media is often criticised for pushing toxic content at young people. Our participants acknowledged this. Tongai, (18) from NSW noted “looking at other people and what they’re doing is obviously not healthy”. Yet, many had developed the skills to curate their feeds and limit harmful content. As Addition (20), who identified as trans-female, shared:

You can consume news and what’s happening without having to feel like you’re in it […] I had to unfollow people because I can’t process that right now.

The social media ban ignores young people’s digital literacy – our research suggests many are already critically engaging with complex online worlds.

When implemented, the ban risks further marginalising this diverse group of young people by restricting access to a key source of identity, connection and culture. As Aaliyah (18) from South Australia told us,

once we see a Black person post something positive, it’s like – that’s me, I could be like that.

*names have been changed.

The authors would like to acknowledge the nine youth co-researchers who were essential in the data collection and analysis: Benjamin Grant-Skiba, Elaine Ncube, Shaza Hamed, Efon Luwala, Mwangaza Milunga, Jeanne Munyonge, Zamda Omba, and particularly Habibat Ogunbawo and Yahya Djomani-Ousmane who have been specifically involved in this article.

Melanie Baak receives funding from the Australian Research Council (DE230100249).

Claire Moran 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 main thing you’ve got is TikTok’: how the social media ban could harm African diaspora youth – https://theconversation.com/the-main-thing-youve-got-is-tiktok-how-the-social-media-ban-could-harm-african-diaspora-youth-270288

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Paul Harrison, Director, Master of Business Administration Program (MBA); Co-Director, Better Consumption Lab, Deakin University

In a wave of new ads, brands like Heineken, Polaroid and Cadbury have started hating on artificial intelligence (AI), celebrating their work as “human-made”.

But in these advertising campaigns on TV, billboards on New York streets and on social media, the companies are signalling something larger.

Even Apple’s new series release, Pluribus, includes the phrase “Made by Humans” in the closing credits.

Other brands including H&M and Guess have faced a backlash for using AI brand ambassadors instead of humans.

These gestures suggest we have reached a cultural moment in the evolution of this technology, where people are unsure what creativity means when machines can now produce much of what we see, hear and perhaps even be moved by.

This feels like efficiency – for executives

At a surface level, AI offers efficiencies such as faster production, cheaper visuals, instant personalisation, and automated decisions. Government and business have rushed toward it, drawn by promises of productivity and innovation. And there is no doubt that this promise is deeply seductive. Indeed, efficiency is what AI excels at.

In the context of marketing and advertising, this “promise”, at least at face value, seems to translate to smaller marketing budgets, better targeting, automated decisions (including by chatbots) and rapid deployment of ad campaigns.

For executives, this is exciting and feels like real progress, with cheaper, faster and more measurable brand campaigns.

But advertising has never really just been about efficiency. It has always relied on a degree of emotional truth and creative mystery. That psychological anchor – a belief that human intention sits behind what we are looking at – turns out to matter more than we like to admit.

Turns out, people care about authenticity

Indeed, people often value objects more when they believe those objects carry traces of a person’s intention or history. This is the case even when those images don’t differ in any material way from a computer-generated image.

To some degree, this signals consumers are sensitive to the presence of a human creator, because when visually compelling computer-generated images are labelled as machine-made, people tend to rate them less favourably.

Indeed, when the same paintings are randomly labelled as either “human created” or “AI created”, people consistently judge the works they believe to be “human created” as more beautiful, meaningful and profound.

It seems the simple presence of an AI label reduces the perceived creativity and value.

A betrayal of creativity

However, there is an important caveat here. These studies rely on people being told who made the work. The effect is a result of attribution, not perception. And so this limitation points towards a deeper problem.

If evaluations change purely because people believe a work was machine made, the response is not about quality, it is about meaning. It reflects a belief that creativity is tied to intention, effort and expression. These are qualities an algorithm doesn’t possess, even when it creates something visually persuasive. In other words, the label carries emotional weight.

There are, of course, obvious examples of when AI goes comedically wrong. In early 2024, the Queensland Symphony Orchestra promoted its brand using a very strange AI-generated image most people instantly recognised as unnatural. Part of the backlash, along with the unsettling weirdness of the image, was the perception an arts organisation was betraying human creativity.

But as AI systems improve, people often struggle to distinguish synthetic from real. Indeed, AI generated faces are judged by many to be just as real, and sometimes more trustworthy, than actual photographs.

Research shows people overestimate their ability to detect deepfakes, and often mistake deepfake videos as authentic.

Although we can see emerging patterns here, the empirical research in this area is being outpaced by AI’s evolving capabilities. So we are often trying to understand psychological responses to a technology that has already evolved since the research took place.

As AI becomes more sophisticated, the boundary between human and machine-made creativity will become harder to perceive. Commerce may not be particularly troubled by this. If the output performs well, the question of origin become secondary.

Why we value creativity

But creative work has never been only about generating content. It is a way for people to express emotion, experience, memory, dissent and interpretation.

And perhaps this is why the rise of “Made by Humans” actually matters. Marketers are not simply selling provenance, they are responding to a deeper cultural anxiety about authorship in a moment when the boundaries of creativity are becoming harder to perceive.

Indeed, one could argue there is an ironic tension here. Marketing is one of the professions most exposed to being superseded by the same technology marketers are now trying to differentiate themselves from.

So whether these human-made claims are a commercial tactic or a sincere defence of creative intention, there is significantly more at stake than just another way to drive sales.

Paul Harrison has previously received funding from ASIC, the Consumer Action Law Centre, and the Department of the Environment, Heritage and the Arts. He is a member of the Consumer Policy Research Centre Board, the auDa General Advisory Committee, the VCCC Alliance Consumer Led Research Group, and the Rapid Regulatory Response Oversight Group of AHPRA.

– ref. A backlash against AI imagery in ads may have begun as brands promote ‘human-made’ – https://theconversation.com/a-backlash-against-ai-imagery-in-ads-may-have-begun-as-brands-promote-human-made-269276