The current state of democracy in the world is fragile. According to the V-Dem Project, which measures global democracy, 41% of the world’s population live in autocratizing countries — that is, those becoming more authoritarian.

In fact, a “third wave of autocratization” has seen democracy pushed back to levels not seen since 1978, the authors of the 2026 V-Dem report conclude. Worse, many of the 92 autocracies around the world are becoming more repressive.

And all this is happening while the economy has globalized — something that many political economists thought would encourage democracy among previously undemocratic nations.

So what’s going on? We spoke to Arizona State University’s José Kaire, whose book, “The Road to Repression,” explores the link between economic liberalization and the slide into deeper authoritarianism.

Walk us through your theory

The book starts from a simple puzzle: Dictatorships today are as repressive as ever. This is surprising because 40 years ago, many believed that economic liberalization would push autocracies toward democratic politics.

The logic was straightforward: Take away the state’s economic power, and you limit its ability to repress. The theory was that economic liberalization did this by privatizing state-owned enterprises, deregulating markets and opening economies to trade and investment. As people became less dependent on the government for jobs, credit and economic opportunity, they would gain the autonomy to organize, oppose authoritarian rulers and demand greater political freedoms.

This idea, associated with Nobel laureates Milton Friedman and Friedrich Hayek, remains influential among many scholars and even served as part of the founding mythos of the Washington Consensus, a policy agenda championed by international financial institutions and leading world powers. It helped make economic liberalization the default prescription for countries across the developing world.

But reality has been much messier. The book documents how countries like Mexico, Malaysia and Senegal saw human rights abuses increase after embracing liberalization. About half of all autocracies have experienced similar trajectories after opening their economies. Why did a policy meant to weaken authoritarian rule sometimes make it more violent instead?

My answer focuses on the role of autocratic political elites – that is, the party officials, military officers and other regime insiders who control the state. For them, liberalization not only brings economic change, but it also represents a fundamental political threat. It can empower regime outsiders, such as an emerging business class or opposition leaders, who may later force their way into the system, diluting the influence of the old guard.

Dictators who liberalize then risk alienating their ruling coalition. When elites are strong, dictators cannot afford to lose their support, as they would risk a potential coup. Leaders with strong elites must then find ways to appease insiders, and one way they do that is through repression.

By cracking down on opposition groups, leaders signal that they remain committed to protecting elite interests. Repression, in this sense, is not just about silencing dissent — it’s about managing elite politics. The book documents, for example, how Mexico’s presidents used repression against the same opposition they had long tolerated to compensate the party elite for accepting reforms that threatened their political influence.

When dictators deploy repression in this way, they solve a broader political dilemma. On the one hand, they must contend with a political elite that sees liberalization as a threat to its influence. But, on the other, they also need to avoid alienating international actors, such as the United States, that are quick to punish governments that abandon the Washington Consensus. Repression allows leaders to retain elite backing while adhering to international demands for economic liberalization.

How does your theory apply to Cuba or Venezuela today?

Both are cases where the details of the argument really matter. In recent months, Venezuela has been forced down the road of economic liberalization by the U.S., while Cuba has embarked on economic reforms – also under pressure from Washington.

A key distinction in my theory is that the effects of liberalization depend on how strong the regime’s elites are relative to the leader.

When elites are strong, dictators need to accommodate them, often by repressing outsiders to shield insiders from potential challenges. When elites are weak, leaders do not need to make those concessions.

The question then comes down to which of these two camps Venezuela and Cuba currently occupy.

In the case of Cuba, we have seen some of the power flow from the leader to the party. Former leader Raúl Castro extended and institutionalized the role of the party in the late 2010s. The military also gained more autonomy during that period, having secured economic privileges that are more resilient to the whims of the leader.

This all suggests that elites have extended their capacity to make demands on the leadership. In that context, further economic liberalization could trigger the dynamics I describe, pushing the regime toward more repression. There is a good argument that we have already started to see some of that.

Venezuela is in a similar situation. It is too early to say for sure, but the removal of Nicolás Maduro in a U.S. raid in January 2026 might create an opportunity for regime insiders to carve out some more independence and influence. If that is the case, then future deregulation may hurt, rather than help, human rights.

Ultimately, outcomes will depend on how these regimes evolve. But if current dynamics persist, external pressure for economic reform is unlikely to improve human rights – and may well make them worse, if my theory holds.

What surprised you when researching for the book?

I got the idea for this book from listening to my father’s stories about how the liberalization of the automobile industry in Mexico in the 1970s affected the factory where he worked. It was all very specific, so I assumed it would not apply more generally to more countries. But the more cases I looked at, the more I realized this pattern of liberalization leading to repression was not uncommon.

In the book, I ended up statistically estimating that most dictatorships who have liberalized have displayed this pattern.

Another thing that surprised me was how the implications of the core argument kept extending to new areas.

For example, I expected that leaders pushed to liberalize their economies would become especially repressive if they also faced the threat of international prosecution. These leaders want to avoid ending up in front of institutions like the International Criminal Court, so they go to greater lengths to stay in power. That often means keeping their elites satisfied at all costs.

Where else are you seeing the dynamic play out?

One area I’m watching is the rise of artificial intelligence. My book focuses on economic liberalization, but it really is about how autocratic regimes adapt to a shifting economic structure. When new sources of wealth or influence emerge, they can give leaders an opportunity to bring in new allies and, in the process, weaken established elites.

China is probably the most relevant case for how these dynamics might play out in AI. Under Xi Jinping, there has been a clear push to centralize control over the AI sector. For example, the new Central Science and Technology Commission is led by one of Xi’s closest allies, placing oversight of this key sector closer to his inner circle. At the same time, the state has been heavily involved in promoting AI firms aligned with priorities associated with Xi’s leadership, while disciplining more independent tech entrepreneurs.

What I find interesting is what this might mean politically. If these sectors are producing new elites whose success depends on their relationship with the leader, they could become an alternative base of support.

That, in turn, could give leaders more room to maneuver in dealing with established elites. I do not think we know yet how far that goes, but I suspect it may very much fall in line with the dynamics the book highlights.

José Kaire 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.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/17/autocracies-get-more-repressive-when-opening-up-their-economies-a-political-scientists-explores-why/

Concerns surrounding young people’s screen time are widespread.

Australia became the first country to ban social media for users under 16 in December 2025, and Denmark, France and the U.K. have since announced similar restrictions to begin this year.

In the U.S., as of mid-2026, more than 30 states have passed laws banning or restricting cellphones in K–12 classrooms; in 2023, the U.S. surgeon general issued a formal advisory on social media and children’s and adolescents’ mental health; and bestselling books tell parents that smartphones are “rewiring” their children’s brains.

These concerns and policies are part of a quickly changing national and international conversation around how young people spend time on screens and its relationship to their overall health and development. My reading of the mounting research on this issue across disciplines is that the popular narrative blaming screens and smartphones for an adolescent mental health crisis runs well ahead of the current evidence.

I study adolescent digital media use and its influence on social, emotional and academic outcomes. A growing body of research suggests that one-size-fits-all solutions are not the answer and that managing appropriate use of digital media needs to take into account a child’s developmental milestones, how parents and adults around them use media, and the ways kids use it to connect and learn with friends and family.

Screen time: From monolith to multifaceted

Wide adoption of digital media and the internet broadened the range of experiences young people could have online. At the same time, the digital age introduced newfound uncertainties. As with the advent of radio, comic books and arcades, adults worried about how children might interact with or be affected by internet use.

In response, the American Academy of Pediatrics first recommended in 1999 that parents and caregivers keep children under 2 away from screens. In the decades since, professional guidance largely treated children’s media use as a behavior to be mitigated.

Policies introduced by the academy in 2013 and 2016 continued to advise that school-age kids and adolescents – those ages 5 to 18 – be restricted to no more than two hours of “entertainment” screen time a day. The goal was to curb risks associated with heavy media use, among them disrupted sleep, online safety, cyberbullying and physical inactivity.

Originally created for young people’s engagement with stationary media that tend to be confined to one room or context – for example, watching television – these hourly limits became outdated with the integration of smartphones and other digital devices into everyday life. Compared with watching television, online media was far more difficult to track and define, and more nuanced in its use.

Developmentally beneficial activities such as education, socializing and leisure have come to rely on the internet to extend and maintain face-to-face connections. Remote schooling and social distancing during the COVID-19 pandemic only accelerated this digitization of daily life.

In my view, adopting strict time limits and restrictions could pose risks to children’s well-being, autonomy and development, for example, by harming adolescent self-esteem.

The latest guidelines

In January 2026, the American Academy of Pediatrics retired its decade-old framework that had largely organized its advice around hourly screen limits. The new policy statement on children, adolescents and digital media diverges from this blanket approach. Instead, it suggests parents consider the larger picture in which this media use exists rather than lumping all screen use together.

Similar to the World Health Organization’s 2019 guidance for children under 5, the American Academy of Pediatrics still advises that parents avoid screen media for children younger than 18 months. This recommendation is largely because extended use by children by themselves can be problematic for many young children, crowding out important developmental milestones.

Both the World Health Organization and the American Academy of Pediatrics also recommend that when children under 24 months use screens, they should be limited to content and devices that encourage children and caregivers to interact. For ages 2 to 5, screen time – including TV and interactive apps on devices – may be extended to more solo use, provided it’s high-quality digital media designed around learning goals in mathematics and reading. But recreational use should be limited to roughly an hour per day.

For school-age children and teens, the newest guidance has begun to step away from fixed screen time limits and asks families to weigh online activity in the context of everyday life.

Doing so recognizes that a child’s digital experiences are shaped by diverse factors rather than the hours spent online. Current guidelines call on caregivers to distinguish among types of media, from television and social media to video games and interacting with artificial intelligence chatbots. They also call for taking into account a child’s individual characteristics, such as their interests and personality, family members’ own use of screens, and the type of content children are spending time on.

Rethinking screen time

Moving beyond strict screen time limits includes questioning the kind of digital activities kids and adolescents participate in. Do the activities encourage time spent interacting with others online, which can help young people develop important skills and competencies?

Scrolling an algorithm-based, auto-playing video feed likely does not equate to the same opportunities as video-chatting with friends, creating digital art or working with teammates in a multiplayer game. Research suggests these different uses relate to development in different ways and can help kids develop varying skill sets pertaining to everyday life and schooling.

Indeed, a large review of current research found that young people who take part in a range of digital activities, such as browsing the web, online gaming or interacting on social media, show positive associations with social connection, identity exploration, civic participation and learning.

Using these guidelines at home

The current evidence suggests parents and caregivers are best positioned to be digital instructors. Cutting children off altogether can carry its own risks for social and emotional development. Caregiver mediation of children’s screen time can produce widely different outcomes and effects, depending on whether the guidance is supportive or controlling.

Considering your own digital media use is the first step: Are family members engaging in problematic or heavy media use that children in the household might emulate? What applications and uses are most common in the family, and what positive or negative effects might they have, depending on the child’s age? How could these digital activities be safely integrated with other everyday experiences to increase their benefit for children? Conversely, what online time might be better spent on face-to-face experiences?

The American Academy of Pediatrics’ Family Media Plan tool turns these ideas into concrete questions. For example, it recommends working out what each child needs from digital technology, what activities screens might be crowding out, and where their family or household can build in screen-free time. The recommendation is to talk with each child about why they are drawn to particular apps or online activities, what they encounter while browsing, and what might be lost when kids bring phones to gatherings such as mealtimes.

The debate over young people’s screen time is not going away. But the most up-to-date guidelines, and the growing body of research behind them, make a strong case for a more holistic approach. The guidelines treat digital media as a complex, diverse and evolving environment that children need to learn to navigate in the digital age. The risks and rewards depend, as with any developmental setting, on the child, the content and what online time might be crowding out.

Gabriel E. Hales 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.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/17/screen-time-guidelines-for-kids-and-adolescents-have-shifted-as-research-paints-a-more-nuanced-picture/

No African teams made it past the quarter-finals of the 2026 men’s football World Cup, but their strategic and tactical play left a lasting impression.

The success of African teams doesn’t come out of the blue, it’s the result of a long process. It’s therefore surprising that African football remains underrated and downgraded by experts, often in a manner that reveals their ignorance both to African football and history. At times, their comments have a highly problematic racist tone.

This was the case with former star player Bastian Schweinsteiger, now a longtime commentator for a German TV network. Ahead of a group stage match against Côte d’Ivoire, he was asked what Germany’s team could expect. He responded:

A bit African football, a bit unorthodox, a bit wild … perhaps also not so conditioned by tactics. We must be prepared for it to be unpredictable.

Setting aside the fact that the German team was often the weaker side – both tactically and in terms of style of play – this characterisation is inappropriate and offensive. It’s based on a stereotyped, colonialist view of Africa.

On the one hand, Schweinsteiger faced criticism that his statement was racist.

As Cote d’Ivoire’s manager, Emerse Fae, said:

It is odd he would speak that way. We could call it racist … I can only hope it is a clumsy statement, rather than something going on in his mind.

On the other hand, there were many people on online forums and social media who wondered why Schweinsteiger’s statement was considered racist, as did his broadcaster, ARD.

Schweinsteiger responded weakly to the criticism:

I was talking about football, not people. This is a football analysis – nothing more, nothing less.

I often hear this kind of downplaying when football in Africa and its people are subtly devalued. As an anthropologist, my research focuses on the migration of football players from various parts of Africa and on the forces that have shaped the evolution of African football, especially the modern game. A key focus is on racialisation, othering, and racism experienced by players.

The research shows that African footballers, and Black players more generally, face different forms of racism.

On social media, they frequently encounter open and hostile rejection and insults. A recent example is the offensive post by Paraguayan senator Celeste Amarilla, after her country’s loss to France. She described Kylian Mbappé as a

colonised Cameroonian, desperately trying to pass himself off as French … resentful, arrogant and ugly.

Players from Africa also face structural disadvantages in the football industry. This is evident in shorter contracts and lower salaries, as well as peripheral playing positions and less consideration for coaching and administrative roles, as various studies show.

After all, they are also constantly confronted with more subtle forms of everyday racism, which manifests itself in their abilities and qualities being devalued. They are often reduced to their physical appearance, their intelligence denied.

Everyday racism is often expressed subtly and white people like Schweinsteiger are often not aware of its racist connotation. Therefore, the question of whether Bastian Schweinsteiger is a racist or not is not the crucial one (he most likely is not).

The key question is rather why these stereotypes are repeatedly expressed in football and why, for many people, they seem to reflect reality rather than appear problematic. To understand this, we need to do justice to Africa’s diversity and further look at the continent’s colonial history.

Colonial stereotypes

For one thing, simplistic statements like Schweinsteiger’s disparage football across an entire continent without making any distinctions. There is just as little such thing as an “African” style of football as there is a “European” one. This does not do justice to a complex reality and it reveals either ignorance or indifference.

Second, describing African football as “unorthodox,” “wild,” and “not characterised by tactics”, perpetuates stereotypes from the colonial era that extend beyond the sport. My study of African footballers in Germany shows how the players are vulnerable to broader, structural vulnerabilities in Europe.

How many view African migrant footballers is grounded in colonial thinking. European colonisation legitimised itself by ranking people. The enlightened European, capable of reflection, and the uneducated African, who must be tamed.

Starting in the 1920s, colonial administrators deliberately used football to subjugate Africans. Sport was used to teach team spirit and rules to the allegedly naïve, raw and perhaps threatening African in order to turn him into a person loyal to the colony.

Openly showing resistance was dangerous. But interestingly, this happened on the football field. Studies outline how some Africans didn’t try to play by the rules. They tried to make feints, dribbles, and tricks – on the one hand to entertain their own people, but also to display defiance.

During the struggle for independence, football was then used by some African countries to foster a sense of national and pan-African unity. After all, colonial borders had been drawn arbitrarily. National football teams were important, but so was the style of play – integrity and technical skill presented an alternative to the colonial image.

Over the years, national playing styles have developed in various ways. They are influenced by cultural values, transnational linkages and the game becoming professionalised. However, the original mix – powerful bodies, skillful dribbling, and a childlike, naïve approach – has become ingrained in European minds.

Slow poison

At first glance, subtle disparaging remarks like Schweinsteiger’s may not seem to be as racist as the open insults and degrading comments seen every day in football and society. But they are hurtful. And because they are firmly embedded in the social knowledge of European countries, they are hard to erase.

Read more:
Racial stereotypes of African footballers persist. A World Cup is a good time to talk about them

Rather, they are a creeping poison that, when constantly reproduced, shapes a society’s collective consciousness. As my research has found, such remarks not only disparage football in Africa but also shape the general perception of a continent that is allegedly backward at every level.

To tackle the powerful colonial-era image of an African inferiority, it is important to take action against all forms of racist disparagement in football and beyond, whether they are unintentional, subtle, or explicit.

Christian Ungruhe receives funding from the University of Passau.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/16/racism-at-the-world-cup-is-an-ugly-reality-how-to-understand-where-it-comes-from/

Jon Ronson’s book Them: Adventures with Extremists launched him to worldwide fame – and more dubiously, launched conspiracy theorist Alex Jones. Though Jones has been deplatformed, his influence lingers: just this week, it was reported that Australia’s far-right One Nation senator Malcolm Roberts praised Jones in 2024 as “a beacon of hope around the world”.

Researched and written in the years preceding September 11, and published in April 2001, Them – which Ronson described in a preface to its second edition as “a snapshot of life in the Western world on 10 September 2001” – is turning 25.

Ronson’s original plan was to spend time with people who’d been described as “the extremist monsters of the Western world” as they went about their everyday lives. They included neo-Nazis, militias and Omar Bakri, a UK Islamic fundamentalist who called himself “Osama Bin Laden’s man in London”, and whom Ronson shadowed for a year in 1996 for a documentary.

Among other things, Ronson recorded the “clownish” Bakri watching the Lion King with a baby on his knee, and asking him to guard the money he’d been collecting for Hamas in giant Coca Cola bottles, while he retrieved a coat – which he agonised over as a Jewish person, but did (seemingly to avoid awkwardness).

Bakri, who told the Daily Mail the September 11 attacks were “exciting”, was barred from the United Kingdom after leaving in 2005. In 2010, he was arrested in Lebanon and sentenced to life in prison after a terrorism trial. Released pending retrial, he was sentenced again in 2015 to six years hard labour.

“I thought that perhaps an interesting way to look at our world would be to move into theirs and stand alongside them while they glared back at ours,” Ronson writes. But what started as a series of profiles of extremist leaders “quickly became something stranger”, when he realised the very different people he was following all shared a belief in the New World Order: a conspiracy theory that imagines “a tiny elite rules the world from inside a secret room”.

This tyrannical, shadowy elite, Ronson soon discovered, was said to launch wars and wield almost unimaginable power. It has the ability to, among other things, “select and cast out the heads of state, control Hollywood and the markets and the flow of capital, operate a harem of under-age kidnapped sex slaves”.

If there was any truth to the theory, Ronson reasoned, there must be an actual secret room, and it had to be located somewhere. So he resolved to find it.

At various points, he found himself chased by men in dark glasses and surveilled from behind trees. He also managed to witness robed international chief executives participate in a bizarre effigy-burning ritual in the forests of northern California – an experience he shared with Jones, then a harmless-seeming regional radio crank, based in Texas.

Now, 25 years on, that worldview has arguably become easier to sustain than Ronson could have imagined. Revelations surrounding figures such as Jeffrey Epstein – who did operate a network of underage girls he coerced into sexually servicing powerful men – have shown the wealthy and powerful can and do conceal serious and shocking crimes through networks of influence and privilege.

But rather than confirming the existence of a secret cabal directing world events, such scandals have often been absorbed into far broader conspiracy narratives – from QAnon to claims about bloodthirsty global elites harvesting adrenochrome from children – further blurring sometimes porous lines between fact and fiction.

Genuine curiosity and refusing caricature

The book helped to establish Ronson’s distinctive investigative approach: an interest in the fringe and the unusual, approached with a genuine sense of curiosity and a refusal of easy caricature.

This sensibility has run through his work since, from The Men Who Stared at Goats (looking at bizarre, fringe tactics adopted by the US army) and You’ve Been Publicly Shamed (an early critique of social media shaming) to his culture war conspiracy theories podcast series, Things Fell Apart.

But Them also propelled Jones into the mainstream – which Ronson has publicly regretted. When Ronson got to know him, “Alex was hollering his powerful apocalyptic vision down an ISDN line from a child’s bedroom in his house, with choo-choo train wallpaper and an Empire Strikes Back poster pinned on the wall”.

Since then, Jones has been “successfully sued” and has filed for bankruptcy after being found liable for defamation for his claims that the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting was staged and “no one died”.

Sadly, what once seemed extreme and marginal – the circulation of conspiracy theories and the associated peddling of prejudice and hate – now feels depressingly routine.

Just as it inadvertently captured the historical moment about to erupt with the September 11 attacks and their aftermath, Them anticipated the mainstreaming of conspiratorial thinking, which would become a defining feature of our misinformation-ridden historical moment.

Paranoia as the new common sense

“Paranoia was the new common sense,” writes columnist John Ganz in When the Clock Broke: Con Men, Conspiracists, and How America Cracked Up in the Early 1990s. “The country seemed to be seeking something new, a break with the exhausted possibilities of the past but also a restoration, a way to recover what had been lost.”

At the end of the 1980s, the Berlin Wall had been reduced to rubble and the communist bloc was crumbling. Excitable liberals were wittering on about the end of history. America stood triumphant, seemingly without rival. And yet something felt off.

Ganz argues appearances were deceptive. “America felt itself to be losing out: losing its dominant place in the world, losing the basis of its security and wealth, and losing its sense of itself.”

There had to be an explanation. And there had to be someone to blame.

This bled through in the culture of the early 1990s. “Just because you’re paranoid, don’t mean they’re not after you,” sang Kurt Cobain, capturing the zeitgeist on Nevermind (1991). It was the time of Oliver Stone’s JFK (1991) and The X-Files (1993). The truth, we were told, was out there. Trust no one – especially anyone in a position of authority.

Ruby Ridge: ground zero?

This atmosphere permeates Them’s second chapter, on the bloody Ruby Ridge standoff in regional Idaho in August 1992. Also permeating the chapter – and the book – are Ronson’s stated aims of painting people “as complicated grey areas, rather than magnificent heroes or sickening villains” and sticking “to the nuanced truth, rather than flattening it to make ideological points”.

Randy and Vicki Weaver were among the first Americans to articulate fears about the New World Order. In the 1980s, they moved from Iowa to a plywood cabin without electricity, high in the Idaho ranges. There, they home-schooled their children, living among bears and mountain lions.

Randy felt the need, Ronson tells us, to socialise from time to time. He made friends within the nearby Aryan Nations community and attended their summer camps with his children four times – though he told Ronson he wasn’t personally a white supremacist, but a “separatist”.

One such friend was an undercover agent, who asked Randy to sell him two illegal sawn-off shotguns. Once arrested, Randy was offered a choice: spy on Aryan Nations for the government or face time behind bars for illicit gun running. He went with the second option. Warned they could lose their house and convinced the New World Order was monitoring them (which was not untrue now), the Weavers stopped showing up to court.

In August 1992, US marshals hiding in the bushes shot the Weavers’ barking family dog as it came too close. Ronson reports that Weaver’s teenage son Sammy fired random shots in response, and was shot and killed. A marshal was killed too. Hundreds of federal agents descended, martial law was declared, and residents emerged from their homes bearing placards denouncing the New World Order. Vicki was shot and killed while holding her infant daughter.

Media coverage recast the human tragedy as a national psychodrama about extremism, government overreach and the collapse of public trust.

In the following months, militia movements expanded rapidly across the US. The infamous siege in Waco, Texas, where David Koresh’s Branch Davidians clashed with federal agents, ending with 75 members dead, unfolded in Texas less than a year later.

For many in the American far right, the ruined Weaver cabin became a symbol of resistance and martyrdom, assuming a quasi-mythic status. One pilgrim who visited was Timothy McVeigh, later responsible for the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing, which killed 168 people and injured close to 700.

Bilderberg: a secret society running the world?

Ronson soon realised the same name was on the lips of the various militia members and anti-government activists he spoke to: the Bilderberg Group. These are the people who actually run the world, they believed. Bilderberg was described as “the Roman Senate” or “a pyramid”.

Jones explained: “They’re way up there. Below them you’ve the IMF, the World Bank, the United Nations, then you’ve got us down here, the cattle, the human resources.” At the time, he was funding efforts to rebuild the Branch Davidian church.

Ronson first encountered Jones while interviewing Randy Weaver, who considered the then regional radio host “a true and tirelesss warrior”. Jones explained the Bilderbergers were orchestrating world decline from the behind the scenes. As with many conspiracy theories, the line between fantasy and reality was not always easy to discern.

The Bilderberg Group is real. It even has its own website. Established in the wake of World War II, it consists of annual private meetings attended by political and industrial leaders, financiers, media executives and royalty. It is, without doubt, a highly secretive organisation – which has intensified the suspicion around it.

Interestingly, UK politician Peter Mandelson, former US ambassador and friend of Epstein even after his conviction, is named in the book as a Bilderberg attendee.

This explains how Ronson eventually found himself sneaking into Bohemian Grove, the annual retreat (since 1878) of a secretive, elite club whose attendees “read much like a Bilderberg roll-call”, alongside Jones.

There, hidden among the redwoods of northern California, wealthy and politically connected men, many of them drunk, gathered for an elaborate ceremony centred on burning an effigy before a giant owl statue. Harmless elite play-acting, or dastardly occult ritual conducted by the secret rulers of the world? Ronson saw the former, Jones the latter.

In his short book on Donald Trump’s first presidential campaign, The Elephant in the Room (2026), Ronson describes watching the alt-right move steadily closer to political power, propelled in part by “leading voice” Jones – who reportedly received a swift call from a newly elected Trump, thanking him for his support.

Despite a lingering “personal” fondness for his fellow Bohemian Grove crasher, Ronson calls him “basically the most irresponsible man I have ever met”, who “uses his powers to inflame paranoia” and “boldly makes stuff up to suit his weird agenda”.

Lizard people

I first became aware of David Icke, former semi-professional footballer and respected sports journalist, now a believer in giant lizards, in April 1991. I was at home, watching TV, not yet ten years old.

Icke was being interviewed live on a prime-time UK talk show, wearing an eye-wateringly lurid turquoise tracksuit. He had recently started to refer to himself as the “Son of the Godhead”. On air, he made a series of predictions about imminent and devastating natural catastrophes. The audience, not knowing what to make of it all, laughed.

Ronson describes the moment:

He said this with such ferocity, such conviction, that the audience stopped laughing for a moment […] You could feel it sweep across the television studio, sweep across the land, a stirring of some primordial paranoia. Could David Icke actually be a soothsayer?

But in fact, ridicule and opprobrium followed the segment. In the period after his very public shaming, Ronson records, Icke came to believe his mockery had been orchestrated by shadowy elites. He immersed himself in conspiracy literature, including on the Bilderberg Group.

Icke became convinced the global elite were not merely corrupt politicians or financiers, but something much stranger: shape-shifting reptilian beings manipulating humans across millennia. Ancient civilisations, occult rituals and modern political institutions were all folded into a single explanatory system.

The reptilian invaders, he concluded, were the secret rulers of the world.

Critics have long argued his talk of secret reptilian elites functions as a coded form of antisemitism, echoing older conspiratorial myths – including ideas traceable to The Protocols of the Elders of Zion.

Yet Ronson suggests Icke genuinely believes the world is controlled by interdimensional lizard people.

The promise of hidden forces

This creates a puzzle. If someone claims giant lizards secretly control the planet, are we dealing with metaphor, coded prejudice, mental instability, opportunity or sincere belief? Increasingly, it seems the answer may be some unstable combination of them all.

Part of what makes Them feel so relevant now is that Ronson rejects the reassuring assumption that extremist or conspiratorial thinking falls outside the bounds of ordinary life.

Long before social media turned paranoia into a viable business model, he grasped that bizarre ideas do not emerge from nowhere. Rather, they are shaped by spectacle, distrust, insecurity and the seductive promise that hidden forces can explain an increasingly bewildering world – often with disastrous consequences.

Given Ronson’s record of books on topics just hitting (or about to explode into) the mainstream, the topic of his forthcoming one, to be published in August, is unsurprising: the masculinity crisis.

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.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/16/them-at-25-jon-ronsons-adventures-with-extremists-made-him-famous-and-alex-jones-too/

European Athletics has partnered with the European Broadcasting Union – the world’s leading alliance of public service media – to launch a landmark publication that seeks to prevent women athletes from being sexualised.

The guidelines encourage broadcasters to avoid voyeuristic body part shots, zoom-ins from behind or underneath competitors and certain slow-motion replays.

So, why is this needed and is something similar in place in Australia?

Women’s struggles in sport

For decades, women have been marginalised and excluded from professional sport due to its systemic patriarchy.

During the 1950s, television started bringing women athletes into our homes. This helped showcase their remarkable physical achievements, while powerfully dispelling the archaic frailty myth.

Despite finally breaking into elite arenas, women athletes face a double standard: broadcast coverage that remains both scant and sexualised.

Men’s sport is prioritised over women’s, implicitly telling viewers that men are superior: in Australia, women’s sports represent only 15% to 20% of overall sports news coverage. On average, there are 5.4 pieces of media created on men’s sport for every one piece on women’s sport.

This gender gap is compounded by the disproportionate objectification of elite sportswomen via ingrained and sexist media camera angles.

Due to these ongoing issues, the International Olympic Committee released related advice. Specifically, it reminded camera operators: “do not focus on crotch shots – common in gymnastics, beach volleyball and figure skating”.

This advice is highly relevant considering the gendered nature of camera operators – only 12% are women in Australia.

A long overdue change

The new European Broadcasting Union guidelines for respectful coverage in women’s athletics target specific, problematic broadcasting habits that add zero narrative value.

The guidelines identify three main culprits:

• lingering close-ups on specific body parts

• low-angle camera placements for high jump and pole vault events

• excessive slow-motion replays with no storytelling purpose.

The strength of these new guidelines is they have been developed alongside Olympic athletes and television professionals.

The decision to involve women athletes in the technical framing of their bodies in motion is the first of its kind – and long overdue.

Elite athletes – including Ivana Španović (long and triple jumper), Blanka Vlašić (high jumper), and Holly Bradshaw (pole vaulter) – voiced how intrusive camera angles cause discomfort and distract them during competition.

British Olympic bronze medallist Bradshaw said:

I have received social media abuse and witnessed inappropriate videos online of myself and colleagues when slow-motion content of us competing is captured.

Many athletes, myself included, have been in competitive scenarios where they are more focused on the cameras instead of their own performance.

Our digital age has magnified the consequences of poor camera choices.

When a visual lingers unnecessarily on a body-revealing angle, that footage is instantly captured, decontextualised and circulated inappropriately across social media platforms.

This vulnerability is stark given nine out of ten elite sportswomen have experienced gendered online harm.

By cutting these images off at the broadcast source, the guidelines offer vital protection against online exploitation. The framework sets a new global benchmark, championing the acknowledgment of women’s skill and dedication to their sport.

Now, camerawork must modernise, with the focus belonging on athleticism, not appearances.

In practice, this means prioritising wider angles that capture the full scope of women athletes’ movements, or using innovative technology such as aerial views and educational graphics to explain the mechanics of a jump or throw.

The document, available for use by any broadcaster, states:

We hope these guidelines feel less like a set of restrictions and more like the beginning of a conversation between broadcasters, directors, camera operators and athletes, that we can continue together.

What’s happening in Australia?

Australia lacks a singular, comprehensive media alliance such as the European Broadcasting Union to enforce a coordinated approach that targets the sexualisation of women in sport across all networks.

Instead, the domestic landscape relies on a fragmented patchwork of generalised frameworks.

At a federal level, the broadcast environment is governed by the Broadcasting Services Act.

Under Part 9 of the act, peak industry bodies are required to develop their own operational codes – such as the Commercial Television Industry Code of Practice – in consultation with the Australian Communications and Media Authority.

While these codes spell out specific protections regarding gender-based hatred and ridicule, sports coverage remains only loosely bound by these broad societal standards.

A new lens for women athletes

The importance of the new guidelines extends far beyond on-screen etiquette. It is a courageous validation of the importance of women athletes’ safety and their psychological wellbeing.

Ultimately, the guidelines confront the media to shift its perspective from focusing on women athletes’ bodies to a respectful appreciation of their capabilities and grit.

It serves as a powerful reminder that if we want to change how society values women’s sports, we must first change the lens through which we see our women athletes in action.

Rachael Jefferson, PFHEA 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.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/17/europe-is-cracking-down-on-sexualised-broadcasting-in-womens-athletics-australia-must-catch-up/

A record 102 matches have been played, leaving just two games to decide the 2026 FIFA World Cup: the third-place playoff (between France and England) and the final.

The championship match, to be played on Sunday evening US time, will see Spain take on Argentina in a fitting finale between the world’s two highest-ranked teams.

So, how did each team reach the final – and how may it play out?

How we got here

Both sides enter the final unbeaten after seven matches.

Spain arrive as the reigning European champions and the world’s number two-ranked nation, while Argentina is the reigning Copa América champion, defending World Cup holders and ranked first in the world.

Spain are arguably the tournament’s most tactically complete side.

Luis de la Fuente’s team has been built on patient possession, relentless pressing and exceptional defensive organisation.

They dismantled France 2-0 in the semi-final, conceding very few clear chances, and have allowed just one goal throughout the tournament. In sports science terms, Spain have built towards peak performance for the final, after opening the tournament with a draw against Cape Verde.

What has characterised the Spaniards is that no single player has stood above the rest – the team’s success has been shared across the squad.

This is a complete team coached by a manager at the peak of his powers. Six players have scored at least one goal, although Mikel Oyarzabal has scored five.

Goalkeeper Unai Simón has been a rock and made some brilliant saves, and used intelligent positioning outside the box. Dani Olmo, despite being substituted twice, has been a constant attacking threat, while captain Rodri has also gone about his work with little fanfare, marshalling the team superbly from midfield.

The Messi factor

Argentina is also a great team, but a different type of great team, and there is one standout player.

There is little left to write about Lionel Messi that has not already been said. Yet the brilliance of this Argentine team is not simply built around his genius – it is built around the extraordinary commitment of the ten players around him.

Read more:
Messi is old, short and slow. How is he still dominating at the World Cup?

They run for him, defend for him, sacrifice for him, and believe in him completely.

Messi is afforded the freedom to conserve his energy, drifting into the spaces where he can do the greatest damage. His teammates carry the physical burden, allowing their captain to deliver moments of magic when they matter most.

He is not merely Argentina’s leader – he is their inspiration, their symbol, and the figure who carries the hopes of an entire nation. Throughout the tournament, whenever Argentina faced a moment of crisis, the players turned to Messi with the belief he would find a way.

He nearly always does, and he did it again in their unforgettable victory over England.

That win represented more than qualification for another final. For many Argentinians, it carried the emotional weight of Diego Maradona’s legacy and offered the opportunity to defeat England on soccer’s biggest stage through skill and determination rather than controversy.

It was another defining chapter in Argentina’s remarkable World Cup story.

How will the final play out?

Tactically, the match promises a fascinating contrast.

Spain will seek to monopolise possession, patiently moving the ball until openings appear, while Argentina is comfortable defending compactly before striking quickly (usually through Messi).

Whichever side controls the tempo in midfield is likely to have one hand on the trophy.

Spain will try and play with the finesse they showed against the French, and Rodri will try to ensure they avoid a “street fight”, which the Argentinians may try and bait them into.

History also adds another layer. Spain is chasing its second World Cup after the triumph in 2010, while Argentina is pursuing a fourth title and back-to-back World Cups – an achievement not secured in more than six decades.

The final therefore offers Spain the chance to cement a new era of dominance, while Argentina seek to extend one of the greatest periods in its history.

It is a fitting climax to the tournament: the world’s number one-ranked team against the ranked team second. The defending champions against the European champions, and almost certainly Messi’s final World Cup appearance.

In a sport now dominated by players who run all day and are increasingly similar, with an abundance of machine-like footballers and fewer players blessed with extraordinary skill and tactical understanding, this World Cup has produced some remarkable goals and performances.

Harry Kane, Jude Bellingham, Erling Haaland and Kylian Mbappé have all produced moments of brilliance.

But the final 25 minutes of the semi-final between England and Argentina, after England had taken a 1-0 lead, demonstrated that there has never been, and perhaps never will be, another player quite like Messi.

We may be about to marvel at Messi for the last time. It is hard to believe he will not find a way to overcome this outstanding Spanish team.

Steve Georgakis 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.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/17/tactically-complete-spain-vs-an-inspired-messi-led-argentina-who-will-win-the-world-cup-final/

Two contested decisions at the 2026 World Cup have reignited debate over how video assistant referee (VAR) reviews should work, and how far back a referee should look when deciding what counts as part of the same passage of play.

VAR allows referees to review contentious incidents using replay footage, with the human referee making the final decision. It’s meant to catch “clear and obvious errors” or incidents that the on-field officials missed. A referee reviewing an incident must decide how far back in time the reviewable passage of play extends.

A 2021 study of 2,195 competitive football matches across 13 countries found referees got calls right 92.1 per cent of the time, rising to 98.3 per cent after a VAR intervention.

But replay only supplies the evidence. It doesn’t supply interpretation, responsibility or a decision about how much of the play needs to be examined to establish appropriate context. That judgment falls to the referee. VAR’s effectiveness depends on referees interpreting the evidence within the incident’s interactions and its relevant context.

As researchers who study the ethical implications of AI use in soccer, we’ve found that two decisions from the 2026 tournament illustrate how difficult these boundary calls can be in practice.

Argentina’s overturned goal

In the round of 16 match between Argentina and Egypt, VAR overturned an Egyptian goal after reviewing an incident that occurred nearly a minute earlier.

Egypt was leading 1-0 when Mostafa Ziko scored in the 58th minute to make it 2-0. VAR recommended an on-field review of Egypt’s Marwan Attia stepping on Argentina’s Lisandro Martínez’s foot 17 seconds before the goal and more than 80 metres from where it was scored.

The referee reviewed the incident and cancelled the goal. Argentina came back to win the game 3-2.

The integral question is whether that foot-stepping incident still counted as being connected to the goal a minute later, or whether play had moved on enough to be treated as over and done with.

FIFA, soccer’s governing body, says an attacking phase in a game has no pre-set time or distance limit.

Providing commentary on the situation, former referee Chris Foy argued the play should count as one continuous move because the ball kept travelling forward. Another former referee, Mark Clattenburg, disagreed, arguing the distance covered and the time that had passed were enough to break the connection between the foul and the goal that followed.

Egypt also appealed for a penalty late in the match, after Mohamed Salah went down following contact with Julián Álvarez, but it didn’t prompt an on-field review; FIFA said the defender played the ball first before normal contact followed.

Both decisions may be legally defensible, but their different treatment shows why officials should explain where their review began, why the earlier act remained relevant and why one incident reached the VAR monitor while the other did not.

Haaland push overturns Norway’s goal

A second case, from Norway’s World Cup quarterfinal against England, raises a similar question: does a VAR review apply before the ball is back in play?

Torbjørn Heggem appeared to put Norway ahead in the 55th minute of the game, scoring on a rebound from a corner kick.

But replays showed that as the corner was being delivered, Norway’s Erling Haaland had extended both his arms and pushed England’s Elliot Anderson to the ground. The two had been jostling for position prior to the moment of contact, and Haaland appeared to be reacting to Anderson.

The ball was not yet in play when the push occurred, but officials judged it had a direct causal link to the goal that followed: Haaland remained involved as the ball arrived from the corner kick, which fell to Patrick Berg. His shot was saved by goalkeeper Jordan Pickford, and the rebound fell to Heggem, who scored.

Under a World Cup clarification, an attacking offence before a
restart of play may be reviewed if it directly affects a goal. After review, the goal was cancelled and the corner retaken. Norway lost the match 2-1 after extra time.

Questions were nonetheless asked about when the review began, since it did not appear to include Anderson’s own physical duel with Haaland in the moments before the push. That earlier jostling does not necessarily mean Anderson provoked Haaland, but it is a reminder that the referee wasn’t reviewing an isolated fact off a VAR screen.

Neither case necessarily proves the referees’ decisions wrong, but both show that defining the relevant incident remains part of human refereeing.

Where does an incident begin?

VAR’s core problem is, in fact, defining the event under review: how far it extends through time and across the pitch, and where the causal connection ends. This requires reading whether ball possession, player positions and opportunities to challenge still carry the effects of an earlier incident, or whether the game has moved on and reset.

Too narrow a frame isolates an action from the broader context that makes it significant. Too broad a frame drags in remote events after a new phase of the game has begun.

Footage is not self-explanatory. Referees and video officials choose duration, angle, speed and relevant interactions, turning play into a visual narrative of the game. This process can test the referee’s impression, but it can also shape what appears on screen as “the incident.”

A study of 88 elite referees from five countries found slow motion produced more severe sanctions than normal speed. An accurate slow-motion fragment can produce a contextually incomplete judgment when compared with the whole event.

Consider two children, A and B, competing for a reward. A provokes B in ways a parent, C, doesn’t see. When B pushes A, C sees only the reaction. B is still responsible, but the fuller context can change how the act is understood.

This is the test we suggest: could an omitted interaction change perceptions about what offence occurred, who was responsible or what consequences should follow? By that measure, reviews should end once possession, position and opportunities to challenge have been genuinely reset.

Making reviews fairer

We propose three changes to make VAR reviews clearer and fairer.

First, the referee’s initial call on the field, including any decision to let play continue, should establish what actually needs reviewing. Second, the replay should be checked against that specific call. Third, the human referee should interpret what the replay shows using the relevant passage of play, FIFA’s official rules and football’s shared norms for what counts as fair.

Football’s law-making body allows competitions to publish public VAR explanations. To preserve match flow, FIFA should add a public post-match note for consequential reviews and checks, laying out the timing and distance of the incident, and the intervention threshold, including whether play continued or reset.

Referees should also judge intensity at normal speed, and only use slow motion to confirm that contact happened, not to judge how hard it was. The technology should support human judgment, not replace it. The clarity of an isolated replay must never be mistaken for the completeness of a fair judgment, since only a human referee can supply that judgment.

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.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/16/world-cup-var-controversies-show-why-human-referees-should-decide-where-potential-fouls-begin/

Tour de France riders are facing some of the hottest racing conditions in the event’s history.

As a heatwave swept across western Europe last week, temperatures in southern France approached 40°C. Organisers shortened Stage 9 by 30 kilometres to reduce heat exposure.

As climate change accelerates the frequency and intensity of heatwaves, questions are increasingly being asked about whether current approaches are sufficient.

Cycling in the heat

The Tour is held in France, with the start often taking place in neighbouring European countries. Over its 21 stages, riders cover roughly 3,500km and accumulate between 45,000 and 55,000 metres of elevation gain.

Competing in cycling’s premier event under extreme heat places significant strain on the human body. Riders must cope with both the demands of professional racing and the environment.

During professional road cycling races, core temperature can exceed 40ºC and, in exceptional circumstances, reach 41.5ºC. Such temperatures place substantial strain on the cardiovascular system, increase the sense of effort, and contribute to declines in performance.

More importantly, the rise in body temperature increases the risk of heat-related illnesses such as muscle cramps and heat exhaustion. In the most severe cases, riders can suffer exertional heat stroke, a life-threatening condition in which intense exercise causes the body’s core temperature to rise above 40°C.

What changes have been made?

In 2024, the Union Cycliste Internationale (UCI), global cycling’s governing body, launched a new high temperature protocol to protect rider health.

This requires race officials and team representatives to assess heat risk using wet-bulb globe temperature, an index that combines the effects of air temperature, humidity, solar radiation and wind.

Under the protocol’s highest heat-risk category, when wet-bulb globe temperature reaches or exceeds 28°C, countermeasures include the provision of extra shade during warm-up, cooling and hydration during racing, and even shortening, altering or cancelling a stage.

During this year’s Tour de France, the use of feeding bags in zones where only bottles are usually allowed was permitted on specific climbs. This was intended to get riders to drink more water on days with forecasted extreme heat.

Organisers also extended the stage time limit by 2% on Stage 9 in response to requests from the riders’ union, the Association of Professional Cyclists. This reduced the likelihood of riders dropped from the peloton – the tightly packed main group of riders in a road cycling race – in the heat would be eliminated from the race.

How can we protect riders long term?

Riders have called for additional measures to be considered, including changing start times to protect their performance and health.

Earlier start times could substantially reduce heat exposure at the Tour de France and other major races such as the Vuelta a España, where stages typically begin around midday. This would help riders avoid the hottest part of the day.

But questions remain about whether current approaches are sufficient.

While recent measures adopted by the UCI and Tour de France organisers are a positive step, relying on wet-bulb globe temperature has limitations.

One limitation is that the evaporation of sweat – the body’s primary mechanism for dissipating heat during exercise – is restricted at any given wet-bulb globe temperature when humidity is high or air movement is low. Consequently, the same wet-bulb globe temperature can be associated with different levels of heat strain, depending on the specific environmental conditions experienced by riders.

While the wet-bulb globe temperature index provides a measure of environmental heat stress, it does not account for the metabolic heat produced by riders. Nor does it factor in the clothing they wear, which can impede sweat evaporation.

This is particularly important in road cycling, where the demands on the body can change dramatically within a single stage. For example, climbing uphill results in slower speeds and less airflow across the body at a time when metabolic heat production is soaring.

Together, these factors suggest that wet-bulb globe temperature alone may not provide a complete picture of the thermal challenge experienced by riders during competition.

Competitive but safe

As global temperatures continue to rise, heat strain – the stress placed on the body by the combination of intense exercise and hot weather – is likely to become an increasing determinant of performance in professional cycling.

Future policies may need to move beyond broad environmental indices to capture the unique demands professional cyclists put on their bodies if the sport is to remain competitive and safe in a warming world.

Julien Périard 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.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/16/as-extreme-heat-pummels-the-tour-de-france-can-cycling-keep-riders-safe/

With record numbers of runners lacing up to run marathons, more of them will face the infamous experience of “hitting the wall.” Hitting the wall is the phenomenon where runners experience a sudden onset of debilitating fatigue, difficulty keeping pace, and often, a shift away from their goal pace towards surviving until the finish line.

The wall is brought on by a depletion of the body’s energy stores after prolonged physical exertion, often around the 34-kilometre mark of the marathon. While nutrition and pacing may prevent the wall, about 50 per cent of recreational marathon runners, especially novice ones, report being acquainted with this running “rite of passage.”

Even if runners avoid the wall, most runners will experience fatigue and discomfort over the course of a marathon. The fatigue and suffering can feel like an unfair payoff after months of training.

Hitting the wall

I have run 10 marathons and during some, I hit the wall. As an exercise psychology researcher, I was disappointed that I didn’t cope better when I first encountered the wall. My initial response involved typical negative thoughts (for example, I will never finish), emotions (despair, panic) and a desire to quit. Like many other runners do, I tried to distract myself, deny what was happening and suppress my negative thoughts and emotions.

This didn’t work well and research explains why. Such coping strategies can use up cognitive resources, paradoxically increasing rumination and undermining performance.

Since those early marathons, I have learned a lot about mindfulness through my research and teaching at the University of Manitoba. I was able to bring mindfulness to a recent marathon where I was reunited with the wall. This approach offered me an alternative to trying to suppress and control my thoughts and feelings, which allowed me to cope better.

Rather than trying to change what is happening, mindfulness involves changing our relationship with what is happening. When mindful, we intentionally pay attention to and allow whatever is happening, without judgment. Mindfulness allows us to be objective observers of our present experience which creates distance from, rather than entanglement with, our experience.

Using mindfulness to get over the wall

What might it look like to bring mindfulness to the experience of hitting the wall?

1. Observe without judging

Notice the present moment without judgment.
Get curious about what is happening and try not to judge things as good or bad — just observe them. Upon noticing the sudden onset of fatigue, runners may ask themselves, “what does fatigue feel like?”, or “where in my body do I feel fatigue the most?” In answering these questions, runners can maintain objectivity by describing what they feel such as, “my legs feel heavy” instead of inserting judgment (for example, “my legs are shot”). This objective stance may help runners stay present with the experience and not get carried away interpreting and judging what is going on.

This curious and objective noticing can also be applied to thoughts and feelings, which can often become catastrophic when runners hit the wall. A runner may observe themselves thinking, “This is terrible. I will never finish.” They can aim to notice the difference from the discomfort they feel and the stories they tell themselves about this discomfort, which are not absolute truths. By noticing thoughts and feelings, runners are less likely to get carried away by them; mindfulness has been shown to help people cope with dysfunctional thoughts and feelings.

2. Focus on the present

Bring your attention back to the present moment. Runners may also notice when their attention shifts from the present to the past (what they could have done differently) or the future (the entire distance they still must run). When facing the wall, it may help runners to anchor their attention in aspects of the present, such as physiological sensations, the rhythm of their steps or the immediate sights and sounds. The last time I hit the wall, I found it helpful to limit my focus to the kilometre I was running, rather than thinking about those I had yet to run.

3. Accept the present moment

Mindfulness also involves accepting the present moment. For marathon runners, this acceptance can be extended to the discomfort associated with hitting the wall. Given that hitting the wall is common, especially for novice runners, runners can accurately interpret the phenomenon as what happens when the body runs low on energy — rather than some catastrophic sign that all is lost. Phrases like “this is the hard part” or “this is part of running a marathon” may help runners accept rather than ruminate about the wall.

Mindfulness and endurance

While I offer these strategies to marathon runners who hit the wall, they can be applied to the general fatigue and discomfort inherent to any endurance activity. Mindfulness has been associated with many positive outcomes for endurance athletes including flow experiences, mental toughness, improved running economy, reduced catastrophizing about pain and reduced performance deficits.

Furthermore, the benefits of mindfulness have been established broadly, beyond the athlete population.

Much like marathon training, mindfulness is best developed through ongoing training. Runners who regularly practise mindfulness — whether through a daily meditation, everyday mindfulness or both — will more easily apply this skill when needed.

In my experience applying mindfulness to the wall, it did not make the wall go away, but it helped me keep a level head while I approached the rest of my race one kilometre at a time, and ensured I had a good enough experience to sign up for another one!

Shaelyn Strachan receives funding from The Canadian Institutes for Health Research and The Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/16/mindfulness-may-help-marathon-runners-cope-with-hitting-the-wall-3-strategies-for-endurance/

Another tournament, another agonising chapter in English football’s long catalogue of glorious disappointments.

England were dumped out of the World Cup by Argentina following a capitulation that will echo through the annals of English footballing folklore. Having taken the lead just shy of the hour mark, this one really stung.

But the irony is that this late collapse has stitched another thread of continuity into the long tapestry of England’s footballing heritage.

As a researcher of cultural heritage, I’ve always thought of football as so much more than the results on the pitch. Indeed, what makes the beautiful game such a powerful cultural phenomenon are the stories supporters inherit and pass on. The things that connect fans to team.

Long before most people fully understand the tactics or even the rules of the game, they begin learning its narratives. They hear about legendary players, miraculous victories, controversial refereeing decisions and – especially in the case of England – devastating defeats. Over time, these a form a shared cultural inheritance.

This is why football can be understood as a form of living heritage. Heritage is not confined to castles, monuments or museum collections. It also exists in intangible things too like traditions that communities continually recreate and transmit from one generation to the next.

Football support works in precisely this way. Every generation inherits a repertoire of stories before adding new chapters of its own and passing them on again. Football culture is thus sustained by an ongoing conversation between past, present and future.

These stories have a vital cultural function. They create identities by giving supporters – and players – a shared understanding of who they are. They bind strangers into communities through common memories and references. And they provide continuity, allowing football cultures to evolve without losing their sense of themselves.

Football matches come and go. The stories endure. It is those stories, continually retold and reinterpreted, that transform football from entertainment into one of Britain’s most powerful forms of living heritage.

Nowhere is this clearer than in England’s relationship with its men’s national team and in the never ending quest for football to finally “come home”. England’s defining story is not simply one of repeated failure, but of a peculiar cycle in which hope and disappointment continually reproduce one another.

Each generation inherits the emotional landmarks of previous tournaments. Of course there is the totemic memory of 1966 when England won the World Cup at Wembley Stadium. But the country’s subsequent experiences of heartbreak loom even larger in the collective imagination.

They are painfully memorable. Gazza’s tears in Turin in 1990 when a yellow card in a semi meant Paul Gascoigne wouldn’t be able to play in the final. The various penalty shoot-out defeats, and the unfulfilled promise of the “golden generation” of England’s 2006 World Cup team. And of course, the recent near misses under Gareth Southgate, as England have contrived to find ever more creative ways to miss out on a second major trophy.

Crucially, this tragic inheritance has not produced a culture of resignation or cynicism. Instead, every tournament begins with the same familiar ritual. Supporters convince themselves that the draw has opened up, that this squad is different, that this manager has found the answer. They do so partly in earnest and partly with a knowing smile, fully aware there is likely heartbreak to come.

For all the criticism it attracts – particularly abroad as an expression of arrogance in England’s self-perception as founder and home of modern football – the idea of football coming home is actually couched in a deep self-awareness. It is an expression of belief against the evidence, of an ability to hope despite knowing how the story will end.

In this way, England’s Sisyphean quest to finally bring football home is the narrative engine that animates the country’s footballing culture. England’s footballing living heritage is the repeated performance of hoping against hope – the willingness, however irrationally, to believe that this might finally be the year.

Each near miss, each cruel twist, becomes another story to be woven into a shared mythology that gives England fandom its remarkable continuity. The national footballing identity has never been forged by glory, but by a collective experience of its doomed pursuit of a second major trophy. The 60 years of hurt has become home.

So, as I try to emotionally recover from England’s latest heartbreak, I can take some comfort in the idea that this defeat has at least sustained a crucial continuity at the heart of this nation’s footballing heritage.

Perhaps football never will come home. But perhaps we don’t need it to. Because the quest has already given generations of England supporters something every bit as valuable: a shared story through which to understand who we are.

Josh Bland 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.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/16/england-defeat-maybe-footballs-never-coming-home/

The 2026 men’s football World Cup has provided great goals, shock results and plenty of entertainment. It has also been extremely lucrative, earning Fifa billions of dollars in broadcasting rights, ticket sales and commercial sponsorship.

Those commercial partnerships include alcohol producers, whose brands have appeared across television broadcasts, digital platforms, social media and stadiums.

For example, Fifa has a long-standing sponsorship arrangement with the world’s biggest beer company. AB InBev owns Budweiser, which is the tournament’s official beer, and Michelob Ultra, the sponsor of the player of the match awards.

AB InBev and Fifa are delighted with the strength of their long-standing partnership and the World Cup’s ability to connect brands with millions of fans worldwide. From a business perspective, it is one of sport’s most successful sponsorship arrangements.

But from a public health perspective, what does it mean for the millions of children and young people who have been watching the tournament? For alcohol sponsorship has become an increasingly prominent feature of elite sport.

In the 1990s and early 2000s, branding was largely confined to adverts on TV or pitch-side boards, or some tournament sponsorship, such as the Carling Cup (now known as the Carabo Cup after the Thai energy drink brand that sponsors it).

But in 2026, marketing is far more sophisticated. Alcohol brands are heavily integrated into the fan experience, appearing in digital content, interactive promotions, fan zones and social media feeds that extend far beyond the 90 minutes on the pitch.

This evolution reflects broader changes in sports marketing, where sponsors have moved beyond being simply advertisers. Now they have become partners in creating the emotional experience surrounding major events.

But research consistently shows that greater exposure to alcohol marketing is associated with earlier drinking among adolescents, and increased alcohol consumption among those who already drink.

Marketing also increases positive attitudes towards alcohol, strengthens brand recognition and reinforces the perception that drinking is a normal part of sport and celebration.

Normalisation

Yet recent research my colleagues and I conducted suggests that some young people have quite a sophisticated understanding of alcohol sponsorship.

Many recognise that companies sponsor football and rugby because they attract huge audiences and create positive emotional associations with brands. As one participant put it: “People see [the product] – they want to get it.”

Lots of our research participants described how commonplace alcohol branding had become, saying they encountered it every time they watched football or rugby, at the stadium, on television and social media.

And many of the 44 young people aged 11 to 17 in Scotland we spoke to questioned why alcohol was linked to sport at all. They described the relationship as “confusing” and “ironic”, struggling to reconcile elite athletes and healthy lifestyles with unhealthy products that can increase the risk of cancer and liver disease.

At the same time, though, they understood why companies invest so heavily in sport.

Football is one of the few global events watched by entire families, meaning children are exposed to alcohol branding from an early age simply by watching matches with parents and siblings. As one young person observed: “If you’ve got it shown to you from a young age, it’s going to be more hardwired into your brain.”

This reflects decades of evidence showing that marketing works through repeated exposure rather than any single advertisement. Sponsorship links brands with excitement, belonging, celebration and national pride, making those associations part of people’s memories of the event itself.

The challenge is becoming even more complex as alcohol companies increasingly promote zero-alcohol products and use “alibi” marketing that relies on familiar colours, logos and slogans rather than explicit references to alcohol. Although these sponsorship campaigns are often presented as more responsible, our research suggests many young people do not distinguish them from advertising for alcoholic drinks.

As one participant explained: “I just saw the alcohol brand, I never really thought of the zeros.” Others viewed these campaigns as a way of working around advertising restrictions while continuing to promote core alcohol brands.

None of this means that every child who watches football will go on to drink alcohol. Young people’s behaviour is shaped by families, peers, culture and many other influences. But alcohol marketing is one of those influences, and unlike many others, it is something governments can regulate.

Our research shows that young people themselves recognise the disconnect between promoting healthy sport while surrounding it with alcohol branding. If they can see that contradiction, perhaps the people who run international football should too.

Richard Purves has received funding from Scottish Health Action on Alcohol Problems.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/16/the-2026-world-cup-has-been-a-tournament-where-alcohol-brands-hoped-to-win-influence-through-sponsorship/

Mindfulness meditation has become increasingly popular in the United States and around the world in recent decades. Apps such as Headspace, Calm and Plum Village – inspired by the Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh – are helping people build a steady practice, reduce stress and improve sleep.

The practice, which involves paying attention to present-moment experience with openness and awareness, is also taught in public schools and workplaces in the United States. In addition, evidence-based mindfulness programs are frequently used in U.S. hospitals and clinics. Legendary former NBA coach Phil Jackson, has even encouraged practicing mindfulness on the basketball court.

The benefits of mindfulness in reducing stress, anxiety and depression have been widely documented. However, mindfulness does not affect everyone in the same way. A growing body of research points to unwanted or adverse effects in some people. These include anxiety, emotional distress, resurfacing of painful memories and dissociation – feeling detached from oneself or one’s surroundings.

Most people do not experience these lasting problems, but researchers are increasingly trying to understand why they occur in a minority of practitioners.

As a scholar of Buddhism, I have studied traditional contemplative practices and also followed the growing scientific research on their effects. I believe some of the confusion arises because Buddhist traditions have long expected that meditation can sometimes be difficult, whereas mindfulness is often presented primarily as a way to reduce stress and promote relaxation. In many Buddhist traditions, meditation is learned from experienced teachers who can guide the practitioner and help manage difficult experiences that might arise.

The scientific debate

Scientists do not always agree on what counts as an adverse effect of mindfulness. Some make a distinction between temporary discomfort – such as anxiety or difficult emotions during meditation – and lasting harm, such as worsening mental health symptoms. Others take a broader approach, measuring a wider range of difficult experiences that occur during or after meditation practice, including intrusive memories and lasting emotional distress.

A 2017 survey of meditation practitioners found that about 25% reported unwanted effects, such as anxiety, fear or unsettling thoughts. Most, however, said these were temporary and did not require medical attention.

Other studies have identified more serious effects. In another widely cited study from 2017, researchers interviewed 60 experienced Buddhist meditation practitioners who had reported challenges that they associated with their meditation practice. These included severe anxiety, traumatic memories, altered perceptions and difficulties functioning in everyday life.

A 2021 study of meditators in the United Kingdom found that lasting effects, such as feeling constantly on edge or detached from oneself or one’s surroundings, occurred in roughly 6%–14% of participants.

Some participants viewed these experiences as valuable parts of their meditation practice. Others found them to be distressing and disruptive.

Estimates of how many practitioners are affected vary widely across studies, but evidence suggests they affect only a minority.

The Buddhist perspective

Many people today turn to mindfulness expecting stress reduction and relaxation. In Buddhist traditions, however, meditation serves other purposes. Buddhist texts often present meditation as a way of confronting uncertainty, grief, mortality and impermanence.

In the Pali canon, the earliest collection of Buddhist texts, the “Maraṇasati Sutta” teaches practitioners to reflect on the certainty and unpredictability of death. Another text in the Pali canon, the “Upajjhatthana Sutta,” guides readers to reflect on aging, illness and death, and to take responsibility for one’s actions.

Meditation is often used to face the realities of human existence. Difficult emotions may arise, and they are not always seen as signs that something is wrong. The texts speak of approaching these reflections with “fearlessness.”

Understanding difficult experiences

Why do some people experience meditation-related difficulties, while others do not? One important factor may be the context in which it is practiced.

In clinical settings where mindfulness is used as part of treatment, some difficult experiences, such as temporary sadness or anxiety, may simply be part of working through difficult emotions rather than signs of harm.

Clinical psychologist Willoughby Britton distinguishes between temporary distress and experiences that negatively affect daily functioning. Temporary distress is part of the treatment, but it may be considered an adverse effect if it persists, worsens or significantly impairs functioning.

Other researchers compare mindfulness with psychotherapy, exercise and medication and argue that soreness after exercise, while unpleasant, is not necessarily evidence of harm.

Why guidance matters

This distinction between expected discomfort and lasting harm echoes long-standing features of Buddhist traditions. Difficult experiences are not always seen as signs that something has gone wrong. They may instead be understood as part of the process of learning through meditation.

Buddhism assumes that meditation is learned from experienced teachers. Practice frequently occurs within a monastic or lay community. Training typically proceeds step by step, beginning with living ethically, then learning to focus the mind and finally gaining deeper understanding.

Modern mindfulness often presents meditation as something people can learn on their own, whereas Buddhist traditions emphasize learning meditation from experienced teachers and practicing within a community. Research also suggests that support may influence how difficult experiences are interpreted and managed.

Researchers have also found that “influencing factors” such as relationships with teachers, meditation instructions and support from one’s meditation community play a role. The same experience could be disruptive for one practitioner but manageable for another, depending on how it was interpreted and supported.

What scientists are learning and why

The question is no longer “Does mindfulness work?” Scientists now ask: “For whom does it work?” “Under what conditions?” “What kinds of support are needed?” To answer these, there is growing interest in screening, safety protocols and individualized approaches.

For example, some programs now ask about trauma or mental health history before beginning mindfulness training. Others encourage participants to work with a trained instructor and adjust or stop practices if they become overwhelming.

It has become clear that mindfulness is neither a cure-all nor inherently dangerous. It remains beneficial for most people. Difficult experiences should neither be ignored nor automatically treated as failure.

For many people, mindfulness apps and self-guided practice work well. Some who experience problems may benefit from working with a trained instructor or in a structured program.

Ronald S. Green 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.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/16/mindfulness-is-often-presented-as-a-path-to-calm-but-its-buddhist-roots-explain-why-it-can-also-bring-difficulties/

Hosting the Men’s Fifa World Cup is supposed to be one of the biggest soft power wins a country can score. When Germany hosted the tournament in 2006, it did so under the official slogan “a time to make friends”. It sought to transform its global reputation for being serious and reserved, presenting itself as a welcoming host instead.

Two decades later, the 2006 World Cup is still cited as one of the clearest examples of a country using a sporting mega-event to improve how the world sees it. In fact, the atmosphere was so optimistic that the tournament is fondly remembered in Germany as the “Sommermärchen” (the summer fairy tale).

Developed by American political scientist Joseph Nye in 1990, soft power is the idea that a country can win influence abroad through attraction rather than force. A nation seen as open, fair and welcoming gains real advantages such as more trade, tourism and goodwill in international politics.

Sporting mega-events are one of the most effective tools for building this kind of image because they put a country in front of a global audience for weeks at a time. Millions of people form impressions about a country from what they see and experience directly. This is one of the main reasons the US, alongside co-hosts Canada and Mexico, wanted the 2026 World Cup.

Hosting the tournament was supposed to project a US that is open to the world. Andrew Giuliani, head of the White House’s World Cup taskforce, explained in a July 8 press conference that months of preparation had gone into ensuring millions of visitors experienced “the hospitality that only Americans can offer and provide”.

The World Cup was also a chance for the US to build goodwill and boost a global image that has undergone strain in recent years due to the war in Iran and the Trump administration’s verbal attacks on traditional US allies. However, a string of controversies look set to turn the tournament into a lesson in how soft power can fail.

Red cards and outrage

The most recent controversy came in early July when the US president, Donald Trump, personally called Fifa chief Gianni Infantino to request a review of a red card shown to US striker Folarin Balogun. This red card, which Balogun picked up in a knockout game against Bosnia and Herzegovina, should have resulted in an automatic one-match suspension.

But Fifa suspended the ban, allowing Balogun to play in the US national team’s ultimately unsuccessful last-16 tie against Belgium. This was an unprecedented decision. It sparked outrage worldwide and drew sharp criticism from European football’s governing body, Uefa. Many observers saw it as an example of political pressure shaping a sporting outcome.

Various other scandals had already occurred in the preceding weeks. Fifa-listed Somali referee Omar Artan was barred from entering the US over unspecified “vetting concerns”, despite holding valid documents. He was removed from the tournament altogether. Iraqi striker Aymen Hussein was detained for seven hours at a Chicago airport before being allowed to continue his journey.

Visa restrictions, including a travel ban covering 39 countries, have stopped fans from several qualifying nations from attending matches. And Iran’s team was made to base itself in Tijuana, Mexico, rather than the US. The Iranians were required to leave the US immediately after each of their matches, prompting their coach Amir Ghalenoei to call them “the most oppressed team” in the tournament.

Each incident is likely to work against the welcoming image the US hoped to project. This is an example of what researchers call “soft disempowerment”, a concept first developed to explain the criticism Qatar received when it hosted the 2022 Men’s Fifa World Cup. It is used to describe what happens when a host country’s own conduct before and during a mega-event pushes people away rather than attracts them.

Reports of migrant worker deaths during stadium construction, as well as bribery allegations and a last-minute reversal on allowing alcohol in stadiums, harmed Qatar’s efforts to use the World Cup to boost its international image. Research from 2025 concluded that, while Qatar held a visually successful tournament, social media scrutiny caused a persistent negative shift in how global audiences perceived the country.

Lessons for future hosts

The implications of soft disempowerment reach well beyond the 2026 World Cup. A growing number of countries consider hosting sporting mega-events a central pillar of their long-term national strategy. These include Morocco, which is set to co-host the 2030 World Cup alongside Spain and Portugal, as well as Saudi Arabia where the following tournament will be staged in 2034.

Soft power through sport depends on a country delivering on the promises it makes to the people an event brings through its door. Where politics visibly overrides fair process, or where visitors are met with suspicion rather than welcome, the same visibility that makes sport such a powerful tool of soft power becomes the mechanism of its undoing.

For prospective hosts planning their own turn on this stage, the 2026 World Cup may prove to be a far more instructive case study in failure than success.

Tariq Ashikhy receives funding from the Ministry of Education in Saudi Arabia.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/16/has-the-world-cup-been-a-soft-power-failure-for-the-us/

Being a referee is a thankless job. Despite the necessity and complexity of the role, referees’ decisions continue to be heavily scrutinised.

In the Round of 16 World Cup match between England and Mexico, two Video Assistant Referee (VAR) interventions occurred after the referee had allowed play to continue. The first resulted in a red card to England, while the second led to a penalty to Mexico.

Unsurprisingly, there was little agreement among fans and pundits in either case.

Following the game, England manager Thomas Tuchel reflected on the VAR intervention, stating:

the referees are just not good enough, the fourth officials are just not good enough – that’s the bottom line.

VAR is supposed to support referees

Perhaps no other sporting tournament in the world carries the attention and scrutiny of the FIFA men’s World Cup, which is entering its final stages.

Decision-making under pressure becomes the critical skill for a referee. However, decision-making in sport is highly complex and prone to error, even among the world’s best.

Referees must balance conflicting priorities of accuracy, fairness, entertainment and safety in real time, within a fast-paced, unpredictable and hostile environment.

Much has been made of referees’ potential biases, such as favouring home teams. While we can’t discount biases can occur, recent research has instead emphasised the influence of “noise” – the undesirable variability in judgements, influenced by factors such as fatigue, law interpretation, visual perspective and the environment.

We can all fall victim to this messiness in our decision-making.

To try to reduce decision-making noise, VAR was introduced to soccer in late 2018.

Generally, VAR has led to an increase in correct decisions: across 2,195 matches in 13 countries, one study found a significant increase in decision accuracy (from 92% to 98%) after VAR intervention.

Another found referees in the English Premier League overturned their original decision 95% of the time following VAR input.

VAR can use a range of strategies to increase accuracy that the field referee does not. For example, viewing multiple replays, slow motion, and different angles have all been shown to improve decision accuracy among referees.

However, even with VAR support, decision-making in dynamic sports such as soccer remains an imprecise science, and 100% accuracy or agreement can never be a realistic goal.

This lack of definitive agreement alongside interruption to the game is why VAR remains so unpopular among fans.

VAR also appears to be altering referees’ behaviour.

Preliminary evidence suggests they are making fewer line-ball calls that might be later reviewed by VAR.

For example, one study found referees awarded fewer red cards and penalties after VAR was introduced. Two small studies in the Israeli Premier League described referees’ greater mental fatigue during games that required VAR. Many also modified their decisions based on how they anticipated VAR would perceive the play, rather than through their own judgement. One participant described:

Now the situation is that referees run on the field just waiting for the VAR to make decisions for them.

These findings may not be applicable to the World Cup, however, and more high-quality research is needed to better understand the impact of VAR on referees’ behaviour.

Do we actually want ‘correct’ decisions?

Ultimately, we need to think carefully about what our end goal is.

Watch any game of soccer and you will observe hundreds of player errors: poor positioning, a badly weighted cross, a missed shot on goal. Most are quickly forgotten.

In contrast, referees are often held to a unreasonable standard.

Like coaches and players, referees cannot be expected to get every decision right. If we are chasing increased decision-making accuracy with VAR, we have to accept what comes with this – time delays and interruption.

The alternative is to accept a level of human error, or noise, in favour of adequate decision-making that flows within the game but might not necessarily be accurate to the letter of the law.

After all, if VAR catches a player offside by their toe, this is a correct decision. But whether this is what we truly want as fans of the game is a philosophical debate.

As Croatia manager Zlatko Dalic put it after his side’s controversial Round of 32 defeat to Portugal:

VAR kills emotions, it kills everything within you. We have gone too far with VAR.

The impact on referees

The debate around the merits of VAR will march on. But it cannot be used to abuse referees.

Referees across all levels are exposed to abuse, threats and violence, with many choosing to leave the game entirely. Our recent systematic review identified sports officials’ mental health was directly associated with verbal and physical abuse.

Read more:
VAR was supposed to take the messy human element out of refereeing. How did it go so wrong?

It is worth remembering the majority of officials (such as those in community football) don’t have access to VAR technology to make their decisions. It is imperative we protect these people, and changing the culture around referee abuse is key to doing that.

Riki Lindsay, Lecturer at Federation University, contributed to this article.

Courtney Walton receives funding from Movember and the University of Melbourne.

Aden Kittel 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.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/16/how-var-is-changing-soccer-and-its-referees/

The football World Cup is often seen as an opportunity to bring different groups within a nation together as they celebrate their team’s achievements. And while the performance of the England side’s young and dynamic squad may not have taken then to the final. There remains something to celebrate.

Thomas Tuchel’s squad has offered a vision of England that stands in stark contrast to Downton Abbey-type cultural representations that often feel nostalgic and parochial. And it challenges head on, claims that have been made recently regarding Englishness and ethnicity.

Selected by a German manager, the 26-man squad featured 20 players who had the option to play for another country. This is because the heritage rules of football’s governing body Fifa allow players to represent the nation of their parents’ or grandparents’ birth.

But those options – Jamaica, Nigeria, Ghana, Ireland and Kenya, to name just some – are not a happy accident. They represent a rollcall of England’s (and subsequently Britain’s) imperial engagements. To quote Sri Lankan novelist A Sivanandan: “They are here, because you were there.”

These representatives of the English nation have generated huge, broad support and excitement. Viewer data indicates that the team’s progress has been watched by record audiences and the beer-throwing antics of fans across the country have been dominating social media.

And yet the exploits of a team led by the grandson of Irish immigrants in Harry Kane and driven forward by the son of Kenyan and Irish immigrants in Jude Bellingham might seem like an anomaly given the nation’s political climate. The rise of rightwing populists has seen heritage and country of birth thrust into the spotlight.

English or British?

The team also seems to represent a vision of Englishness at odds with wider public attitudes. On one hand, official polling data has consistently shown that identifying as English is much less attractive to ethnic minorities than categorising themselves as British. This may be because, outside football, Englishness for many minorities represented a more exclusive identity that focuses on ethnic rather than civic forms of belonging.

And on the other hand, these questions of identity are also exemplified by those who lean right politically. These groups are much more likely to define themselves as more English than British.

Both sets of data link to my work on national hierarchies of belonging. These put forward the argument that there are some groups within a nation who are seen to belong more than others. It is those who unquestioningly believe and are treated as if they “really” belong who position themselves as the rightful arbiters and managers of the nation.

This not only gives them an important sense of agency, in an era where growing numbers of people feel disenfranchised, but also informs powerful claims to key social, economic and cultural resources. There is a strong link between belonging and entitlement, so that “I belong more than you” can also come to mean “I deserve more than you”.

The struggles between groups within the same nation are not new. But they have been supercharged by growing inequality and the undermining of collective institutions, including those associated with politics and the media. The rise of nativist views and policies, which prioritise the rights of people born in a country over those of immigrants, is a feature of these processes.

A new England?

But it could be possible for England to address these issues. It’s worth noting that ethnic minorities in both Wales and Scotland are much more likely to identify as Welsh or Scottish. This is because these national categories are primarily defined in relation to the dominant group in the UK (that is, the English).

In other words, the “English question” (the debate over whether MPs from the other home nations should be allowed to vote on English-only affairs) still needs to be answered. This was first raised more than 40 years ago with the prospect, and then the reality, of devolved politics in Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland.

Increased devolution to the English regions may go some way to addressing grievances in the south-west, the Midlands and the north. And specific English cultural institutions – why not have an English national museum, library and broadcaster, for example – could generate new forms of belonging.

But above all, England and the English need to start telling some more convincing – and relevant – stories about who they are. These can move beyond the past and an obsession with former “glories”.

One of those stories may well involve this English football team. After all, it may ultimately not have won this World Cup, but still offers a different, and highly visible, inclusive representation of the nation.

Michael Skey receives funding from the Arts & Humanities Research Council and the Economic & Social Research Council

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/07/15/england-out-world-cup-but-this-team-may-have-helped-redefine-a-nation/