RNZ

“If Luxon wants a fight over conservation land, he has one,” he said. “This huge turnout today shows people are not prepared to stand by, while a government tries to rewrite conservation law to make those places easier to exploit.”

Greenpeace was supported at the march by Forest and Bird.

“The message to every political party from the people of New Zealand is clear — if you stand up for nature, we will stand with you, but if you sell off our conservation land, weaken environmental protections or put short-term profit ahead of our future, we will not stand by and let it happen,” said Forest & Bird policy and advocacy group manager Richard Capie.

Greenpeace claimed about 35,000 people attended the protest, although police reported a maximum of 6000, with no incidents resulting.

This story was first published on

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/09/19/greenpeace-protests-conservation-amendment-bill-in-downtown-auckland/

Annie Dillard brought poetry into prose, pioneering a mystical form of creative nonfiction that critics both admired and misunderstood
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Annie Dillard is rightly celebrated as a pioneer in creative nonfiction after her death on Sep. 15, 2026, at age 81. But the dazzling, disorienting feel of Dillard’s work might be best understood as the often overlooked influence of poetry on her prose.

Dillard published her first full-length work of creative nonfiction, “Pilgrim at Tinker Creek,” when she was only 28. Winning her the 1975 Pulitzer Prize, this early book set the tone for her later work in creative nonfiction: the essay collection “Teaching a Stone to Talk,” and full-length works “Holy the Firm” and “For the Time Being.” They all attend closely to the natural world, with a theologian’s eye and a poet’s idiom.

Dillard’s creative nonfiction about nature owes a debt to the lyrical prose of transcendentalists like Henry David Thoreau, whom Dillard cited as a major influence in her work. She was also overt about the central role that fiction played in her thinking in her book of literary criticism, “Living by Fiction.”

But Dillard’s nonfiction, though undeniably prose, can have “the shape and intensity of a poem,” as her New York Times obituary puts it.

As a writer and writing professor, I think often about how blurred the boundary between poetry and prose really is. Annie Dillard’s work embodies this permeability.

Prose and poetry, in combination

Not all writing is the same. Prose typically features continuous sentences arranged in paragraphs. Poetry tends to be differentiated from prose by a deliberate organization of language that’s not determined by the page itself.

Prose poetry, the lyric essay and other hybrid forms of literature play at the intersection of genre, which usually defines these separate categories of writing. Creative nonfiction likewise aims to accurately convey reality while emphasizing literary style. The literary features of creative nonfiction are often drawn from fiction, with devices such as dialogue, scene and flashback.

But one of the distinctions of Annie Dillard’s nonfiction is how much her prose owes to poetry.

Poetry can be defined in many ways, but it tends to be characterized by honed, heightened language. Poems are often noted for their memorable images, rich sounds and foregrounding of emotion. Dillard’s nonfiction is shot through with images that arrest readers with their beauty or confront readers with their terror – as in her Harper’s essay “The Death of a Moth,” where the insect is drawn to a candle flame, becomes stuck in the wax and is transformed into a burning wick. In Dillard’s words:

“She burned for two hours without changing, without swaying or kneeling – only glowing within, like a building fire glimpsed through silhouetted walls, like a hollow saint, like a flame-faced virgin gone to God, while I read by her light, kindled, while Rimbaud in Paris burnt out his brain in a thousand poems, while night pooled wetly at my feet.”

It’s no accident that Dillard describes herself as reading the work of French poet Arthur Rimbaud by the light of the moth. She previously wrote that she loved how language sounds in French symbolist poetry, and Rimbaud was known to combine prose with his poetry in a way Dillard herself does.

Writing prose as a poet

In “The Writing Life,” Dillard describes the process of writing “a favorite, difficult book” – likely “Holy the Firm” – as akin to writing poetry. She notes that the writing was “so intense and accented, and the world it described was so charged with meaning,” that the idea of going further exhausted her.

To help her write, she read Conrad Aiken’s poetry aloud, describing it as “pure sound unencumbered by sense.” She would read a poetry anthology’s index of first lines because “the parallels sounded strong and suggestive.”

She also describes repeating a single line of Wallace Stevens’ poetry “for hours, like a song” while writing.

Dillard purposefully channeled poetry’s sonic density in her writing process; it comes as no surprise that the heightened register of these poems made its way into her prose.

Inspired by ineffable nature

Dillard’s virtuosic, visionary style isn’t for everyone. Writer Eudora Welty praised Dillard in her review of “Tinker Creek,” but Welty also admitted “not (knowing) what she’s talking about” at times and that her writing “leaves something to be desired.” That something was what Welty called “straight narrative,” the clarity of “point, direction, and shape” more often demanded of prose than poetry.

The solitude of the narrator in Dillard’s nonfiction and her apparent disengagement with society also was a source of criticism. As critic William Deresiewicz put it, “There is no economy and no society” in “Tinker Creek.” “We don’t know how Dillard lives, or how she makes a living, or much of anything about her circumstances.” Her mix of cultural disengagement and theological concern smacked to Deresiewicz of “hypocrisy and spiritual snobbery.”

In the contained world of lyric poetry, especially nature poetry, this hermetic perspective would be less of a fault. Her mystical encounters with the divine through the natural world are reminiscent of poets like Gerard Manley Hopkins, Wendell Berry and Mary Oliver. The narrow lens of her attention can be viewed as a poetic feature played out at length over her nonfiction essays and books.

Like an expressionist painting, poetry draws attention to how something is being depicted, not just what is being portrayed. Prose can do this, too – creative nonfiction, especially, and Annie Dillard’s writing most of all.

Amy Cannon 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/2026/09/18/annie-dillard-brought-poetry-into-prose-pioneering-a-mystical-form-of-creative-nonfiction-that-critics-both-admired-and-misunderstood/

Every generation discovers its own heroes. I found mine in 2026. He died in 1726 and his name is John Vanbrugh (1664-1726). I’m not the first to discover him, of course, and I am in stellar company. This year has seen the Vanbrugh300 tercentenary celebrations of Vanbrugh’s life and legacy, looking at him in the round as soldier, playwright, architect and all round fun person to know.

In the 18th century, John Soane acknowledged Vanbrugh as “the Shakespeare of architecture”. Soane was professor of architecture at the Royal Academy of Arts, London from 1806. He declared:

It is impossible to contemplate the works of Sir John Vanbrugh without feeling those emotions which the happy efforts of genius alone can produce. In his bold flights of irregular fancy, his powerful mind rises superior to common conceptions, and entitles him to the high distinctive appellation of the Shakespeare of architects.

Few large country houses still represent current political power and extreme wealth that they did in the 18th century. So why value them now? Post-second world war reconstruction threatened historic city centres, and country houses were being demolished at an alarming rate. This continued well into the 1960s. Arguments to protect nature, beauty and art finally resulted in changes to the planning system in 1968.

Now the conversation has widened to how much people benefit from access to green space, sources of awe and wonder, and the past as a pool of creative inspiration. Country houses have been opened up to large-scale tourism since at least the 1960s; deference has been replaced by leisure and pleasure.

Can we still put Vanbrugh on a pedestal next to Shakespeare? Academic discourse has begun to step away from the idea of the lone genius. “Great men” striding through history hide the hard work, team effort and lucky breaks that accompany creative work. Historic buildings are truly bespoke, everything hand made by teams of highly skilled artisans. Vanbrugh’s creative partnership with architect Nicholas Hawksmoor (1631-1736), for example, was essential to his success.

Hawksmoor had trained in constructing buildings and managing sites, having worked in the office of Sir Christopher Wren, the architect of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. Vanbrugh had social connections, great client management skills and something extra – the “bold flights of irregular fancy” that Soane identified.

Vanbrugh’s buildings represent joint authorship, with both men contributing designs. It is hard to distinguish between them, but Hawksmoor never got the same applause in his lifetime or afterlife that Vanbrugh received. Perhaps this was to do with their differing social status, or the fact that Vanbrugh died when the monumental style was still fashionable.

Staging the country house

Vanbrugh’s architectural practice was almost entirely about building country houses, designing landscape settings for them and, rather endearingly, building homes for himself and his family members in the London borough of Greenwich. One of the joys of being an architectural historian is the chance to go and meet the buildings. Vanbrugh’s houses deliver on sensory impact and stirred emotions – the wow factor.

There is much to experience, as his major country houses survive and welcome visitors. The grandest and largest is Blenheim Palace in Oxfordshire, the nation’s gift to the soldier who beat the French at the battle of Blenheim, Bavaria, in 1704, John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough. Blenheim is a world heritage site, for the significance of the house in its original designed landscape.

The visitor route leads you through a massive golden stone archway, scaled up to make humans feel tiny – and this is just the side entrance. The house itself is best seen from the main entrance court, an architectural expression of national pride.

The skyline elevates the house into a theatrical scene, using the classical language of architecture but with massive masonry additions to emphasise verticality (Hawksmoor designed the sculptural tops of the towers), and Vanbrugh’s manipulation of the effects of light and shadow on the cliff-faces of walls that break forward and recede. This is the castle aspect recast in classical form.

Visitors could feel overwhelmed by the weight of history, acreage and the now alien way of life it enshrines. Instead, the present day interpretation breaks the site into several stories: the servant’s eye view; traditional showcase state rooms and the private rooms which are still lived in. We get to choose how we encounter its social history. Having a resident family with continuous occupation is a huge help in offering authenticity to the visitor experience.

In bracing contrast to Blenheim’s robustness, the fantastically fire-gutted Seaton Delaval Hall in Northumberland, is now owned by the National Trust.

Seaton Delaval suffered from a serious fire in 1822, destroying the interiors of the main house, but leaving the stone walls, marble floors and even plaster statues in place. The roofed ruin offers a theatrical spectacle of an ancient Roman house, especially in the great hall with Vanbrugh’s Roman arches beating out a visual rhythm.

Externally, you might recognise elements from Blenheim: the high central block and high towers at the corners. The unique seven-sided corner towers remind me of the Tudors and Stuarts, who also played with theatrical castle-like houses. The National Trust have kept the character of this stony monument, using the intact wings to “meet the family”, the rather jolly Delavals. Seaton is just north of Newcastle, surrounded by former mining towns; this estate offers a community garden and green space among urban development.

In Vanbrugh’s day, country house visiting was an activity for wealthy friends and family. Now we are invited in to share the experience on new terms, giving our cultural and civic support to the survival of works of art that we know will never be matched. Go and meet him.

Susie West 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/2026/09/18/john-vanbrugh-at-300-the-man-described-as-the-shakespeare-of-architecture/

With new adaptations of Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility arriving on our screens this autumn, television’s long-running love affair with Jane Austen shows little sign of abating. But there are other 18th-century writers with whom TV could have a wonderful love affair, too.

One writes about a woman who disguises herself as four different people to pursue the same man. Another writes about a woman becomes so obsessed with romance novels that she struggles to distinguish fiction from reality. In other’s work, a young heroine navigates the dangers of high society while a sheltered young woman uncovers dark family secrets in a remote castle.

Don’t these sound like pitches developed for a contemporary streaming platform? Although largely forgotten today, they contain many of the ingredients that contemporary television audiences love. Here are romance, scandal, mistaken identities, unreliable narrators, gothic suspense and sharp social commentary. Indeed, some of the 18th-century’s most influential novels seem almost uncannily designed for 21st-century screens. Here are five such tales.

1. Fantomina: or, Love in a Maze (1725) by Eliza Haywood

The titular protagonist of Haywood’s best-known work is a young woman who repeatedly reinvents herself through a series of disguises to sustain a relationship with an unsuspecting lover. Long before Tinder profiles or TikTok personas, Haywood understood that attraction often depends on performance and self-presentation.

In a recognisably contemporary act of self-fashioning, each disguise grants Fantomina access to forms of freedom, mobility and sexual agency denied to respectable 18th-century women. It is only by shedding her “respectable” identity and becoming anonymous that Fantomina is able explore the freedoms offered by public life.

In this respect, the novella’s interest in reinvention anticipates everything from online pseudonyms to the carefully curated selves of dating apps, while its suggestion that women are judged differently depending on how and where they appear in public feels strikingly relevant in an era of social media, personal branding, and constant visibility.

2. Pamela: or, Virtue Rewarded (1740) by Samuel Richardson

Few mid-century novels generated more controversy or excitement than Pamela, the story of a young servant girl who resists the unwanted advances of her wealthy employer. Centred on questions of power, class, precarity and consent that remain highly relevant today, the novel sparked fierce debate amongst its first readers and spawned several imitative responses.

Long before the #MeToo movement forced a wider reckoning with how economic and social authority can be abused, Richardson’s bestselling novel was asking pertinent questions about the options available to women when the men pursuing them also hold power over their futures. The novel’s conclusion can feel deeply troubling to modern readers. Yet it is precisely its ambiguity — and the difficult conversations it can provoke — that would make Pamela such a compelling adaptation today.

3. The Female Quixote, or, The Adventures of Arabella (1752) by Charlotte Lennox

Often read as a satire on the dangers of excessive reading, Lennox’s novel feels uncannily attuned to contemporary debates about BookTok, fandom and so-called “book boyfriends”: fictional characters, usually male, who readers wish existed in real life. Its heroine Arabella’s habit of interpreting real life through the conventions of romance recalls contemporary anxieties about the influence of popular fiction on readers, particularly women.

Yet The Female Quixote also invites us to question why female reading habits attract such scrutiny in the first place. Much like modern debates about romantasy or fan fiction, Lennox’s novel exposes the tendency to dismiss the cultural interests of women as frivolous, unhealthy or delusional.

A smart adaptation could capture both the comedy of Arabella’s misconceptions, and the novel’s surprisingly sympathetic defence of the pleasures of imaginative reading.

4. Evelina: Or, The History of a Young Lady’s Entrance Into the World (1778) by Fanny Burney

Evelina is perhaps the easiest sell of all because its often seen as Austen before Austen. Following a young woman as she enters fashionable society for the first time, the novel combines romance, comedy and social satire with a heroine whose uncertainty about the world around her makes her instantly relatable.

But beneath its humour lies a story about the challenges of establishing your own identity in a society obsessed with status and reputation.

Burney was one of Austen’s favourite authors and readers familiar with Pride and Prejudice and Emma will recognise many of the qualities that Austen would later make famous. So an adaptation of Evelina would offer something both fresh and familiar by giving viewers a chance to revisit the literary world that made Austen possible in the first place.

5. The Mysteries of Udolpho: A Romance (1794) by Anne Radcliffe

A riot of gothic excess, Anne Radcliffe’s chiller arrives packed to the brim with many of the ingredients that have recently enjoyed a cultural renaissance: crumbling castles, sublime landscapes, dark family secrets, brooding villains and a pervasive atmosphere of mystery. But the novel’s enduring appeal lies in the way it uses these gothic trappings to explore very real anxieties about female precarity and male power. Isolated, surveilled and threatened by powerful men, the fate of heroine Emily St. Aubert explores inheritance, coercion, gender, and authority.

Now, don’t get me wrong, Austen remains endlessly adaptable. I, for one, will be watching the latest takes on her work when they land on our screens. But as this list shows, Jane’s was never the only game in town. The novels beloved by Austen and her contemporaries were often stranger, riskier and more inventive than the stories that often make it to our screens. Three centuries on, they may be ready for their big moment.

This article features references to books that have been included for editorial reasons, and may contain links to bookshop.org. If you click on one of the links and go on to buy something, The Conversation UK may earn a commission.

Amy Louise Blaney works for the University of Wolverhampton. She is an Associate Member of the Royal Historical Society, a member of the International Arthurian Society, and a member of the British Society for Eighteenth-Century Studies.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/09/18/stop-adapting-jane-austen-five-other-18th-century-writers-perfect-for-the-screen/

Imagine you are at a cocktail party. The room is crowded, people are coming and going, and you can barely hear your friend as they tell you some juicy gossip about the date they went on last week.

The fact you can still follow what they’re saying is down to your brain performing some very complex operations amid all that noise. Out of all the sound waves reaching your ears, it is successfully isolating the one of interest while filtering out the rest.

Trying to understand how the brain does this has kept auditory neuroscientists occupied since the 1950s, when British cognitive scientist Colin Cherry first coined the term “the cocktail party problem”.

This was initially studied in experiments that asked volunteers to listen to two speeches simultaneously – but only repeat one of them aloud afterwards. Cherry found that listeners could follow and repeat the pre-selected message remarkably well, despite both speeches being played simultaneously, one in each ear. In contrast, they recalled very little of the other message.

These experiments laid the foundation for decades of selective attention research. But it is only in the past 15 years that scientists have studied this phenomenon in experiments that more closely resemble the complicated, multi-layered way we listen in the real world – using technology that accurately tracks the brain’s activity as speech unfolds.

The most common non-invasive option, electroencephalography (EEG), uses what looks like a swimming cap fitted with small sensors. These measure very fast changes in the electrical activity of populations of neurons (the brain’s nerve cells) with millisecond precision.

In a 2014 study, neuroscientists found that, within 200 milliseconds of hearing someone speak, the brain favours the conversation someone is focusing on over all other noise. This prioritised attention shows up most markedly in secondary brain areas such as the superior temporal gyrus, which are responsible for piecing together the sounds we hear into meaningful speech.

This suggests that our attentive brain is not just enhancing the voice of who we are listening to, but helping us make sense of their words while filtering out all other conversations and background noise.

Attention switching

The original cocktail party problem did not investigate the full range of people’s listening experiences, which are often much less static. In everyday life, we repeatedly switch and reorient our auditory attention – for example, when hearing our name called across a crowded room, or when a door slams.

But what happens in that brief moment when we stop listening to one person and turn our attention to another? Can the brain switch from one voice to another instantly, or does it briefly have to process both? These were questions we investigated in our latest study with colleagues from the Eriksholm Research Centre in Denmark, which is funded by Danish hearing aid manufacturer Oticon.

Clarifying how the brain manages these rapid shifts in attention can help explain why some conversations are easy to follow while others become difficult, especially in noisy environments.

Coming back to the cocktail party: here you are, focused on your friend’s voice as they reveal the identity of their recent date. But then another familiar voice suddenly reaches your awareness. Your partner is (secretly) telling a friend about the surprise birthday gift they are planning for you. Your attention immediately shifts to your partner’s voice, while still giving the appearance of listening to your friend.

When we tested such a scenario in our laboratory, we found something striking. During this attention reorienting, the brain does not simply drop one voice and turn to the other. Rather, for a short period of between one and two seconds, the neural signals associated with the two voices overlap. In other words, the brain starts tuning into the new speaker before it has completely let go of the old one.

This mechanism may help explain how we navigate the constantly changing soundscape around us, moving our attention from one voice or sound to another while maintaining enough information about the previous speaker to make that transition seamless. This efficient processing strategy could be described as the brain maintaining a smooth “attention continuum”.

Improved hearing aid design?

These insights have some important real-world applications. For example, traditional hearing aids are often designed to favour sounds coming from in front of the listener, which is obviously limiting in many situations.

But using enhanced attention decoding techniques, hearing aids could be neurally steered not only to enhance the speaker that is currently attended to, but to switch between different speakers, almost in real time, as the listener’s attention is dynamically reoriented.

More generally, understanding how the brain shifts, maintains and combines information from different speakers can give us a clearer picture of how attention shapes what we ultimately hear, understand and remember.

The approach introduced in our study could be particularly useful for studying how individuals vary in their attentional strategies, particularly in noisy environments – and for relating these differences to the mental effort they use to follow and understand speech.

Ultimately, this brings us closer to understanding how the brain makes successful communication possible – at cocktail parties and everywhere else.

Sara Carta received funding from the William Demant Fonden and Taighde Éireann – Research Ireland.

Giovanni Di Liberto receives funding from William Demant Fonden and Taighde Éireann – Research Ireland. He is also supported by Research Ireland at ADAPT, the Research Ireland Centre for AI-Driven Digital Content Technology at Trinity College Dublin.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/09/18/neuroscience-offers-new-insights-into-how-our-brain-solves-the-cocktail-party-problem/

One evening in August 2025, a Pakistani shepherd, Abuzar Hussain, was tending sheep and goats in the mountainous slopes of Shijar. At about 6pm, a thunderous roar shattered the silence of the valley.

Abuzar could see a glacial flood headed towards his village, and had minutes to react. He desperately climbed up to a higher point in the mountain where the mobile signal allowed him to get in touch with the village, so that the mosque could broadcast an alert over a loudspeaker.

Hundreds of lives were saved by this phone call from a single man, in a region where millions of dollars are invested in early warning systems.

This story captures something risk and crisis communication researchers have long known, but is not always built into a nation’s emergency planning. It’s not only official messages that are part of a community response to an upcoming disaster. Research shows that the sources who deliver information during emergencies, and their perceived credibility, can affect the way people understand risks and act on them.

That gap, between what people are told and what they trust, is exactly what we set out to measure, with other colleagues. As climate and health information researchers, we ran a series of surveys in Belgium, Germany, Poland and Florida in the US – all places that were hit by major weather emergencies in 2024.

Storm Boris caused deadly flooding across central Europe, while Hurricane Helene caused devastation in the south-eastern United States. These events made natural test sites for our new survey tool, designed to measure “information voids” – the gap between what people expect from flood information and what they actually experience. This could range from knowing where and when to evacuate, to knowing who to believe.

To measure this, we asked people to rate how much information they ideally wanted versus how much they actually received; how accurate they expected it to be versus how accurate it felt; which sources of information they trusted versus which ones they heard from; and finally, which communication channels they preferred versus which they could access.

From their responses, we were able to calculate “void scores”: the difference between the perceived ideal emergency alert and what was received. These were judged in terms of the quantity and quality information received, the source of that information, and the communication channel it was received from. The bigger the difference between the ideal and received ratings, the bigger the void.

Read more:
Nepal floods: how measuring snow in the Himalayas could help avoid future disasters

Our findings from nearly 900 people were revealing, but not in the way we expected. Across all four countries, people said they were getting enough information about the weather emergencies. The problem wasn’t the volume of information – it was who it came from, and how it reached them.

Who is the messenger?

We measured the “information void” in four ways: how much information people got, how accurate it was, who it came from, and how it reached them.

Our surveys detected gaps in the accuracy of information about the timing and location of floods. But the biggest problem was the source of that information, and how it reached people.

Trust levels were high for emergency responders such as firefighters and the police. People showed relatively low levels of trust for social media influencers and religious leaders.

Relationships between information sources and audiences become especially fragile during disasters such as floods, where life-altering decisions need to be made quickly. This was demonstrated during the August 2026 disaster on the Nepal-Tibet border, when a flash flood washed away villages and roads, killing more than 1,000 people.

Strong winds and water surges can damage telecommunications and transportation infrastructure, in ways that make it impossible for emergency responders to share important updates about the situation with the public through news or social media.

In the meantime, rumours can often start spreading misinformation about issues such as emergency supplies, leading some communities to feel ignored. This often sows the seeds of social discontent.

Why information fails

Over the past decade and especially since the COVID pandemic, research around tracking and tackling misinformation has increased. Some studies suggest that misinformation outbreaks are usually preceded by a vacuum of information from official channels.

One possible explanation is that uncertainty about the hazard and incomplete information creates a fertile ground for alternative theories to emerge. When these theories gain traction, they can have dangerous consequences.

Measuring, detecting and addressing information voids should help address the risk of misinformation outbreaks during emergencies and disasters – events that are especially vulnerable to these outbreaks.

Preliminary research, which is not yet peer reviewed, suggests that information voids were linked to an increase in the prevalence of misinformation during the COVID pandemic. Other researchers have categorised social media conversations during the pandemic to identify which topics people felt most confused about, or wanted more information on.

What needs to change?

Many disaster planners worry about people not receiving accurate information, focusing on its quantity and quality. And certainly, being informed accurately about the timing and location of natural disasters is of primary importance.

But our research shows it is also vital to focus on who delivers this information. Messengers commanding high levels of trust need to be actively engaged to ensure information reaches people frequently and widely.

Institutions can act on this by constantly monitoring information voids across all phases of a disaster, from preparedness to response and recovery. This will increase the chances that people adhere to emergency advice, and that misinformation outbreaks are headed off before they start.

Read more:
Himalayan hazards are becoming more complex. Our warning systems need to catch up

Investing millions of dollars in early warning systems is necessary, but not sufficient. Accurate information needs to be sent in the right amount and at the right moment via trusted sources, or people are put at risk.

That is a lesson emergency communicators urgently need to absorb.

Santosh Vijaykumar is affiliated with United Nations University Institute for Comparative Regional Integration Studies (UNU-CRIS). He has previously received research funding from the ESRC-CDRC, Facebook, Digital Economy Crucible and Food and Nutrition Foundation of Indonesia.

Michael Craig 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/2026/09/18/who-do-you-trust-in-an-emergency-we-asked-people-in-places-hit-by-extreme-weather/

For the past decade, global diplomacy has been dictated by one man’s social media musings. Since Donald Trump first glided into the Trump Tower atrium on his golden escalator, he – and what he has to say – has been the story, throwing red meat to the media and shaping the affairs of the US and the wider world through reactions to his increasingly imperial pronouncements.

But the 47th US president has been off-key of late, and his outbursts on everything from tariffs to the war in Iran have sent his popularity tumbling, not least in Europe where just 8% of Italians have a positive view of him, 10% of Germans and 13% of us in the UK.

As Trump-fever has cooled, one man has stepped forward to fill the ethical void. The Canadian prime minister, Mark Carney, has taken a stand against his bothersome southern neighbour and, in so doing, has reoriented the free world’s moral compass.

Instead of looking to Washington DC for global leadership, global democracies are increasingly looking to the middle power man in Ottawa.

Carney is a banker – or at least that was the world’s view of him until recently. He was governor of the Bank of Canada during the financial crisis of 2008, before leading the Bank of England from 2013-2020.

He only became a politician when elected leader of the Canadian Liberal Party in March 2025 and ensuring his mandate through a landslide national elecion win the following month. But he has quickly emerged as a voice of political reason against the continued waves of Trump tirades.

This week Carney addressed the European parliament following EU Commission president Ursula von der Leyen’s support for a proposal for Canada to become the EU’s first “associate member”. Much like his speech in Davos in January, Carney noted the current “geopolitical rupture”.

And, much like that Davos speech, he was calm, eloquent and displayed rare intellectual insight over how that rupture might be overcome. At Davos, he emphasised the need for middle powers to step up to the plate. This week in Strasbourg, he added flesh to the bones, stressing how Canada and the EU had complementary strengths. He made the case for a deeper partnership based on cooperation, delivering seamless digital trade in many goods and services, underpinned by people-to-people ties including the free movement of young people.

The Canadian PM laid out a vision where Canada and the EU were allied by “common values, our compatible systems and complementary strengths”. While it’s early days in the discussion of a Canada-EU relationship, it was a seductive pitch to “create a beacon for other democracies”.

Trump was not mentioned by name in the speech but was clearly listening and clearly riled. Amid a trade war with its northern neighbour, the US president heard Carney state that he did “not seek power to dominate others”, and was “not proposing a third bloc in order to become a great power rival – only with better manners”. The dig was pointed, the style was effortless.

Carney’s team write great speeches, and the Harvard-educated economist with a doctorate from Oxford delivers them well. But one senses he’s much more than a good autocue reader. He dropped a couple of German rhetorical phrases into his Strasbourg speech and built a strong historical context, drawing on the ties that have bound Canada and Europe from the first world war onwards, creating a memorable picture of the seeds brought back to Canada from Vimy Ridge (where Canadian troops won a hard-fought battle in 1917 with heavy losses) and then replanted in France a century later.

While evocative historical links underpinned his sentiment, the vision for a brighter, shared future brought hope where Trump sows only disquiet. My academic colleague Katie McGettigan, speaking at a British Library event, summed up Carney astutely, calling him “the new moral centre”. And, to date, he has backed his rhetoric with action.

This is far from an easy time for Canada. A trade war with its nearest neighbour and by far its largest trading partner is the last thing it needs. Clearly Carney recognises that an unbound Trump, surrounded by sycophants in his administration, is simply too capricious to engage with through the norms of rational diplomacy.

As Carney first stated in Davos, and emphasised this week, the best way to bolster against irrational imperialism is through collective power. The Canadian certainly polished his credentials as the emerging middle power leader.

On September 22, Trump will be centre stage once more as he addresses the UN general assembly. He may respond to Carney’s love letter to the Canadian-European relationship, but I’m not expecting much by way of deep intellect or sharp rhetorical flourishes.

Trump is no orator – and currently a long way from the moral centre. As at Vimy Ridge, Carney innately understands the value in holding the high ground.

Mark Shanahan 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/2026/09/18/mark-carney-a-master-of-statecraft-in-an-era-short-of-great-orators/

I recently typed a simple question into Google search: How much screen time is too much for teenagers? Instead of presenting links, as Google had been doing for many years, it gave me an AI-generated answer. The artificial intelligence agent cited a number, then complicated that reply, noting that quality and balance of time could matter more than the number of hours, and that “too much” time could depend on a teenager’s sleep, exercise, school demands and mood.

I tried another search: Should I take a daily aspirin? This time the AI answer presented me with medical information, warned about risks and offered more tailored guidance if I provided my age and medical history.

These were good replies. What interested me was that they were different kinds of replies.

Debate about AI answers has focused on accuracy: Did the system get the answer right? That matters, but accuracy is only one test. Each kind of answer requires a user to judge something different.

I find it useful to sort AI answers into an “answer typography” of four broad types: factual, interpretive, constructive and strategic. A factual claim can often be checked against a source. An interpretation can be accurate and still reflect choices about which evidence matters. A construction can be well reasoned and still be wrong for the person receiving it. A beautifully written strategic document may not be true. Yet AI presents all four types of answers in much the same fluent, authoritative form; the differences are easy to miss.

I’m university librarian and dean of libraries at the University of Virginia who leads national efforts to develop AI competencies for library professionals, and I consult widely on AI literacy. I first proposed the typography in the Journal of Academic Librarianship.

The four categories are not airtight boxes. A response from an AI agent can reflect several types. That said, I describe each type of answer below, and offer guidance for deciding whether a reply is ready to use or needs more investigation.

Which answer is Google giving you?

A factual answer makes a claim that can, in principle, be checked against evidence. When was the University of Virginia founded? What is the chemical symbol for gold?

To determine whether a factual answer is robust enough for you to use, verify the claim against an appropriate source. If the answer cites a source, follow that link instead of simply treating the answer itself as proof.

An interpretive reply is built on evidence, but there is not a single takeaway. How much screen time is too much for a teenager? Does remote work raise productivity? The answer depends on what evidence is included, what is left out and how disagreement is understood.

Google’s initial answer to my screen-time question indicated that two hours was a limit for teenagers. Then it noted that pediatric guidance puts more weight on the quality and context of screen use than on simple hours. The American Academy of Pediatrics says there is no exact recommended amount for teens and emphasizes the kind of screen use and what activities it might be displacing. A question that looked numerical turned out to require interpretation.

To assess interpretive answers, do more than check facts. Ask yourself what evidence the system emphasized, what it left out and whether another defensible interpretation exists. A useful follow-up question to present to the search engine is: “What is the strongest evidence for a different conclusion?”

Constructive answers are made rather than discovered. Ask AI to draft a cover letter, write a eulogy, suggest a lesson plan or reorganize a paragraph – there is no single correct result.

You can judge the response by considering purpose, audience and voice. A eulogy can be grammatically perfect and still sound nothing like the person delivering it, or it may land flat on family members hearing it. It may not capture the deceased person well, either. Consider these kinds of effects as you read.

Strategic questions ask what to do. Should I take a daily aspirin? Should I buy the house? The answers combine information with judgment about goals, risks, trade-offs and personal circumstances.

My aspirin search shows why context matters. Google warned about risks, told me to consult a medical professional and offered more tailored information if I provided my age, cardiovascular history and risk of bleeding. That caution matches the U.S. Preventive Services Task Force guidance. It says the decision to start low-dose aspirin for prevention of heart attacks and strokes should be individualized and weigh cardiovascular benefit against bleeding risk.

For strategic answers, ask what the system would need to know before its advice could reasonably apply to you individually. Consider the stakes, the alternatives and whether a qualified person should be involved. For the aspirin question, a useful follow-up would be: “What details about my age, medical history or bleeding risk could change this advice? What should I discuss with my doctor before deciding?” The final judgment remains yours because you are the person who has to live with the outcome.

The first question after an answer

My questions began as ordinary Google searches. I did not open a chatbot. The AI-generated responses simply arrived, and links were appended.

The responses were useful. Google added context, acknowledged complications and offered tailored guidance if I supplied additional information. Within each response, though, the type of answer could change. Reporting what a medical guideline says is different from deciding how it applies to a particular person. A fluent response can move between those types of answers without a noticeable change in voice.

As a user, try to recognize what kind of intellectual work the AI agent did for a response you receive. Consider whether the interpretation is persuasive or the advice fits your circumstances.

Before asking whether an AI answer is right, ask a more basic question: What kind of answer is this? The type will tell you what to do next.

Leo S. Lo 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/2026/09/18/how-to-know-if-you-can-trust-an-ais-answer-to-your-question/

The UK government is deciding whether to approve a licence for Jackdaw gasfield, around 250km east of Aberdeen, in the North Sea. This is being presented by supporters as part of the answer to Britain’s energy-security problem. The UK government has argued that if Britain still needs gas, then producing it domestically is preferable to imports.

But there is a fundamental problem with treating new gas production as an answer to long-term energy needs especially when there are other enduring ways to use the North Sea to reduce bills, increase energy security and create jobs in the emerging sector of clean energy storage.

So what role should the North Sea play as the UK moves away from extractive fossil fuels across electricity, transport, manufacturing and heating?

Gas is not a future fuel. Climate science means Britain needs to reduce natural gas use (a fossil fuel that’s extracted from deep underground, often beneath the seabed) this decade. The atmosphere does not distinguish between CO₂ emitted from gas produced in the North Sea and CO₂ emitted from imported gas. All greenhouse gas emissions contribute to climate change.

Britain’s energy system currently depends on gas for heating, electricity and industry. But there are available and proven ways to reduce gas use including but not limited to better insulation, heat pumps, geothermal energy and electrification. For example, minewater heating extracts heat in old coal mines via heat pumps to heat homes, such as in Seaham, northeast England.

Read more:
We could use old coal mines to decarbonise heat – here’s how

The UK’s industrial past could become part of a post-fossil fuel future. The nation’s electricity system can change rapidly: coal was phased out of the British electricity system in 2025 and LED bulbs have been one of the most successful energy-efficiency stories.

The arguments for and against Jackdaw are well rehearsed and have played out since 2021 when the Offshore Petroleum Regulator rejected Shell’s environmental statement for it. The timing of that rejection coincided with Glasgow hosting the UN climate summit, Cop26.

Five years on, the invasion of Ukraine and its impact on European gas prices has strengthened calls to develop new oil and gas fields. Equally, the treasury will no doubt welcome new income, although the scale of production and revenues seen in the 1980s are unlikely.

One of the arguments for is that additional production of gas from UK fields could help make the energy transition more manageable. Also, in Jackdaw’s favour is that is it at an advanced stage; it should have lower emissions than imported gas; and it could provide short-term resilience while Britain reduces its gas dependence.

However, the emissions from it are incompatible with UK climate objectives. If Jackdaw is to be developed, we need to recognise that climate change impacts may put a short shelf life on it. Atmospheric CO₂ concentrations are now greater than 420 parts per million (ppm), compared to around 320ppm when the decision was made to extract from the North Sea in the late 1960s. The past decade was the hottest ever measured and climate-linked disasters such as the glacial collapse in Nepal-Tibet are becoming more acute.

Arguments favouring Jackdaw share a short-term perspective. However, there are more strategic uses for the oil and gas infrastructure that we should be unlocking instead.

The need for seasonal energy storage is as important today as it was in the past. Britain’s fossil fuel system depended heavily on storage. Coal was stockpiled and gas was stored in pipelines and underground geological formations. Storage of fuel (high or low carbon) can stabilise energy prices. This in turn reduces the costs of risk that are shouldered by customers.

A renewable energy system will also need storage. Batteries will play a role, but they are primarily suited to balancing electricity over hours and days. They cannot yet replace the seasonal energy storage historically provided by stocks of coal, oil and gas. Fortunately, Britain has an unusual strategic advantage: it has already built much of the offshore infrastructure and developed the geological, engineering and technical expertise needed to develop large-scale energy storage.

The North and Irish Seas contain depleted oil and gas fields that could become enormous stores of low-carbon energy. Surplus renewable electricity can be converted into low-carbon fuels such as hydrogen and stored underground for months before being used when energy demand is high. Our recent research found that repurposing the UK’s most suitable oil and gasfields could provide several thousand TWh of energy storage.

Read more:
Empty North Sea oil fields could store enough green hydrogen to power the country for seven years

Jackdaw is not an energy strategy

The strategic question is no longer how much more fossil fuel can be extracted from the North Sea. It is how the geology, infrastructure and engineering expertise created by the oil and gas industry can be repurposed for a low-carbon and energy-secure system. Instead of extracting fossil energy from geological structures, the UK could use them to store energy produced from renewable energy.

The government’s Department for Energy and Net Zero (DESNZ) must look beyond individual licensing decisions and develop a strategic plan for the North Sea’s role in Britain’s post-gas energy system. Allowing arguments about individual gas fields to dominate energy debates misses the opportunity. A greener energy system would make those fields unnecessary, while creating new skilled and future-proofed jobs for oil workers and enhancing energy security for the UK and Europe.

A key next step will be to work with academics and industry to identify which depleted fields are best placed to provide large-scale energy storage and releasing licenses for developers to repurpose that North Sea infrastructure for storing low-carbon energy. Rather than simply managing the decline of oil and gas industries, we must use their geological and infrastructure expertise to build the energy system that replaces it.

Andrew Crossland is affiliated with NESO until 11 September 2026 and GB Energy from 28 September 2026. He is a Professor in Practice at Durham University. He works on non-UK solar energy transitions through the Global Solar Council.

Jon Gluyas and Stuart Jones 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/2026/09/18/granting-a-new-gasfield-licence-does-not-guarantee-energy-security/

There are very few downsides to exercise. But a recent viral story highlighted one of the more embarrassing – and potentially dangerous – issues that can occur when your body reaches it limit with exercise.

Joanna Wietrzyk, the winner of the recent women’s pro Hyrox race in Beijing (a challenging fitness race that blends running and strength), found herself in the spotlight not for her performance – but because she soiled herself during the event.

While there has been plenty of commentary about what happened – and discussions over whether she should have been allowed to continue competing – one thing that hasn’t been said is that such occurrences are not uncommon in athletes.

Those who watched the 2005 London Marathon will remember Paula Radcliffe stopping at the 22-mile mark to “do her business” on the side of the road. Triathlete Taylor Knibb also suffered a similar incident during 2024’s Dubai T100.

Gastrointestinal problems, including diarrhoea, are up to three times more common in professional athletes than in recreational athletes. The impact it has on runners is so common it has even has its own term: runner’s diarrhoea. It’s estimated that up to 90% of runners experience this issue at some point.

But diarrhoea isn’t the only symptom people undertaking strenuous exercise for a prolonged period will suffer from. Abdominal pain, heartburn, nausea, vomiting and even gastrointestinal bleeding may all occur.

There are a few key reasons why intense exercise can have such a detrimental effect on our gastrointestinal system.

The first has to do with the digestive tract itself. The human digestive tract is approximately three times our height. This means it contains a lot of material. It also means our digestive tracts are rarely ever empty. This is particularly true when people are doing long or intense forms of exercise, where they may need to consume pre-workout snacks or drinks to give them energy, alongside fluid or gels during exercise to keep going.

If any problems occur with food when it’s in the stomach, it usually goes back out the way it came in. But if any issues occur with food once it leaves the stomach, it’s a one-way ticket “downwards”.

The small and large intestines hold approximately 300ml and 600ml of liquid content at a time – although this varies from person to person. So you can perhaps see why it can be difficult to stop problems when they arise during exercise.

The second factor relates to blood flow. Our body has a limited amount of blood – around five litres on average, which is circulated around the body. Whatever activity we’re doing changes the distribution of blood around the body. When we exercise, nervous and hormonal signals tell the blood vessels in the muscles and lungs to dilate, increasing the amount of blood flowing to them.

The same signals that cause those vessels to dilate also tell vessels to the gastrointestinal system to constrict. This temporarily reduces blood flow to these organs.

A reduction in blood flow to the intestines during endurance exercise can cause bowel ischaemia. This is where the blood supply to the organ is reduced so much that it can no longer function properly due to insufficient oxygen and nutrients. Standard exercise doesn’t usually cause this, but prolonged and intense exercise increases the risk.

This reduction in blood flow has been shown to cause symptoms such as diarrhoea in athletes. In rare cases, it can also result in bowel blockages.

A prolonged reduction in blood flow, oxygen and nutrients to the intestines can also damage the cells that line the gut. These cells are responsible for absorbing nutrients and water into the blood stream, meaning performance is impaired and dehydration may occur.

The physical effects of intense exercise also cause problems. Our gastrointestinal contents are repeatedly sloshing around with the impact of every step, jump or lunge. This not only places additional force on our gastrointestinal system, it also causes physical microtrauma to the tract’s lining, which can sometimes result in intestinal bleeding.

Thankfully the lining of the intestines has a good capacity for regeneration, so longer term issues are rare. But if microtrauma and intestinal bleeding do occur frequently, it can lead to a “leaky gut”, where the contents of the gastrointestinal tract (including partially digested food, pathogens and bacterial toxins) can leak into the bloodstream. This can lead to a systemic immune response, resulting in pain, cramping and diarrhoea – a condition referred to as exercise induced gastrointestinal syndrome (EIGS).

Once the body decides that it doesn’t want the contents in the intestines any more, it has limited power to stop what comes next. This is despite the fact that the body has two anal sphincters – an internal one and an external one – which work in tandem to stop the gastrointestinal tract from emptying when we’re not ready.

Once enough pressure has built in the gastrointestinal tract, you will experience an urge to “go”. And in the context of Hyrox, the running, pushing, lunging and lifting competitors perform exacerbates the pressure that may already naturally be happening in the gastrointestinal tract.

Wietrzyk’s “accident” isn’t as uncommon as what people may think. As four-time Boston and New York marathon winner Bill Rodgers put it: “More marathons are won or lost in the porta-toilets than at the dinner table.” Wietrzyk’s story is just the latest example of the toll competing at an elite level can have on your body.

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

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/09/18/why-accidents-can-happen-during-intense-exercise/

In a speech to the European Parliament, Canadian prime minister Mark Carney declared that “Europe and Canada are stronger together”. He also backed an offer made by the president of the European Commission, Ursula von der Leyen, one day earlier for Canada to become the first “associate member” of the bloc.

“Canada welcomes this ambition,” he said. “An alliance for the future is a unique, positive approach that we will define together.” But what might associate membership look like, how significant is von der Leyen’s offer in the history of the EU’s relations with external states, and how likely is it to come into being?

Canada already has a preferential trade deal with the EU in the form of the 2016 Comprehensive Economic and Trade Agreement (Ceta). This type of free-trade agreement is typical of the sort of legal instrument used by the EU to manage relations with its main international partners.

But one way in which the EU could upgrade Ottawa’s relations with Brussels would be to look to the template of the “association agreements” the EU uses to bring neighbouring countries into closer alignment with its policies and programmes.

These association agreements have been a stepping stone to full EU membership for countries like Greece and Portugal. Current candidates for EU accession, including Ukraine, Georgia and Moldova, also all have association agreements with the EU that facilitate the process by which they meet the rules and standards required for EU membership.

Other countries like Norway and Iceland have rejected full EU membership. But their association agreement with the EU – the European Economic Area (EEA) agreement – nonetheless grants them access to the European single market in return for alignment with EU regulations.

Ottawa is not about to engage in a process of regulatory alignment with the EU as if it were preparing for membership. EU law is clear that only “European” states can join the bloc. Currently, Canada’s trade with the US also vastly outstrips its trade with the EU.

Weakening its position relative to its primary market would have much the same effect for Canada as Brexit had for the UK, albeit by aligning with the EU rather than seeking autonomy from it. Nonetheless, Brexit may be instructive here.

Driven by the Boris Johnson administration’s desire for a trade deal with the EU modelled on Ceta, the 2021 EU-UK Trade and Cooperation Agreement (TCA) is substantively a preferential trade deal cloaked in the legal form of an association agreement.

For the EU, this allows its future relationship with the UK to evolve over time. Enclosing Ceta within the legal wrapper of an association agreement could likewise allow Canada and the EU to strengthen their areas of non-trade cooperation without EU membership and regulatory alignment.

First associate member

The really surprising aspect of von der Leyen’s offer is the idea that Canada would be the EU’s “first” associate member, implying a new legal category. This would be unusual for a highly legalistic bureaucracy that has long preferred the routine application of familiar legal formats.

That said, the proposal is not entirely new. The idea of associate membership gained some traction in the early 2000s around a proposed replacement of the EU’s founding treaties with a single treaty, creating a “Constitution for Europe”.

As this constitution was being drafted, a proposal emerged to create an associate membership status for states that wanted to keep a close relationship with the EU but without accepting the obligations of full EU membership. The proposal did not get off the ground, and the constitution failed when put to referendums in France and the Netherlands in 2005.

Carving out a new legal status of associate membership would entail treaty change, and that comes with significant hurdles. Unanimity among existing EU member states is needed for an amendment to pass.

The range of potential domestic veto players is also extensive. As Canada has discovered, ratification of Ceta is not yet complete in ten EU countries, even a decade on from its signature.

Aside from the legal hurdles, there may also be political pushback against giving Canada associated EU status. Countries currently in accession talks may fear that their drive towards full membership will instead be parked in associate status.

With Russia continuing to oppose Ukraine’s EU membership, for example, granting Ukraine associate membership could be a neat diplomatic solution. But it is one that could disappoint those for whom EU membership is the real prize.

For states like Norway, Iceland and the UK that do not have EU membership in their sights, an associate status could facilitate closer European cooperation without stirring up popular resistance to full European integration.

But for Iceland and Norway, such an arrangement would disturb their existing EEA framework with the EU. The UK’s TCA, on the other hand, allows future cooperation with the EU to be absorbed within its framework. Joining Canada in an outer circle of associate states would need to have demonstrable benefits.

Other international forums – the G7, Nato and the recently formed European Political Community – create opportunities for Canada and the EU to strengthen their alliance but outside of the framework of EU institutions and treaties.

Creating a category of associate membership might seem like a solution in search of a problem.

Kenneth Armstrong has received funding from the Leverhulme Trust, British Academy and ESRC. He is also director and trustee of the Scottish Book Trust.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/09/18/what-might-canadas-eu-associate-membership-look-like-and-is-it-even-a-possibility/

Learning another language is a highly complex mental activity. It requires people to remember words, distinguish unfamiliar sounds, recognize patterns, work out grammatical rules and retrieve the right expression at the right moment. All of this happens while listening, interpreting and preparing a response.

Could all this mental activity also help keep an aging brain healthier? Research suggests it can.

Concerns about memory and dementia can send aging adults looking for ways to exercise their brain and maintain cognitive function, whether it is solving crossword puzzles or playing a musical instrument. Language learning might not seem like the same kind of brain exercise, but it is a complex activity that engages several mental processes at once.

I am a linguist who studies language acquisition, use and loss. My new book, “Beyond Words: How We Learn, Use, and Lose Language,” examines language and the mind across people’s lifespans.

Research increasingly suggests that language learning and bilingualism can offer cognitive benefits – including for older adults. Learning another language can also create opportunities for communication and social connection.

A workout for the brain

A person’s brain remains capable of change throughout their life. This ability to adapt in response to experience is known as neuroplasticity.

Learning unfamiliar sounds, vocabulary and grammatical patterns requires the brain to form and strengthen connections. Language learning engages several mental processes at once, requiring people to absorb and retrieve information, notice when something does not work out, and adjust. This sustained mental effort makes language learning a particularly rich form of cognitive exercise.

Research on bilingualism has found differences in both the brain’s gray matter, which contains neurons and their connections, and white matter, which consists largely of nerve fibers linking different parts of the brain.

Studies have shown greater gray matter density or stronger white matter integrity in bilingual people, compared with people who speak one language. These findings suggest that language experience can be reflected in the brain’s structure, as well as its activity.

But brain differences are only part of the picture.

The brain as it ages

One reason researchers are interested in language and aging is the idea of cognitive reserve. This term refers to the ability to maintain cognitive function despite age-related changes or damage to the brain.

Bilingualism has been proposed as one factor that can help the brain cope with the effects of aging, because managing two languages places ongoing demands on people’s attention and cognitive control – ultimately helping to strengthen cognitive reserve.

Some studies have found that bilingual people who develop dementia show symptoms at a later age than people who speak one language. This suggests that bilingualism may provide some protection against the effects of brain aging, although it does not necessarily prevent dementia or the brain changes associated with it.

The potential benefit may therefore be greater resilience in the face of those changes, rather than prevention of the underlying disease.

Learning later in life

This raises another question: If lifelong bilingualism may help protect the brain as we age, can people gain similar benefits by learning a language later in life?

Age changes the way languages are learned, but adults remain capable of learning new languages throughout life. Adults and kids bring different strengths to the task. Children tend to have advantages with pronunciation and some aspects of grammar, while adults bring larger vocabularies and better-developed strategies for learning.

Research involving older adults suggests that learning a language can produce cognitive benefits, although the findings are mixed. The potential benefit may come less from achieving fluency than from the process of learning itself. Language learning is a sustained challenge that keeps people learning, practicing and adapting.

There are social benefits, too. Learning another language can deepen cultural understanding, improve interpersonal communication and encourage people to empathize with other people’s perspectives and experiences. It can also connect people with others from different linguistic and cultural backgrounds, creating opportunities for conversation and friendship.

There is no established formula for how much language learning is needed to provide these benefits. Studies have used everything from intensive classroom instruction to short daily sessions with language-learning apps, over periods ranging from weeks to months, to see whether language learning can improve cognitive function. Rather than a magic number of hours, what matters may be sustained engagement in a challenging activity like learning a new language.

Building cognitive resilience

Learning another language is not a miracle cure for aging, and it cannot guarantee protection against Alzheimer’s disease or other forms of dementia.

But it is an unusually rich form of mental activity.

Perhaps the most useful way to think about language learning is not as a way to keep the brain young, but as a way to support cognitive resilience – the ability to keep learning, adapting and functioning despite the changes that come with age.

Aging inevitably changes the brain, but people retain the capacity to learn throughout life. Keeping our brains engaged in demanding new activities may contribute to that resilience.

Karen Stollznow 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/2026/09/18/learning-another-language-may-be-one-of-the-best-ways-to-keep-your-brain-healthy-as-you-age/

Fall and winter mark the peak season for common respiratory infections such as COVID-19; respiratory syncytial virus, or RSV; influenza, better known as the flu; and the common cold. These illnesses often begin with symptoms that look very similar, so telling them apart can be tricky – especially when the beginning of cold and flu season in the fall can be the tail end of summer seasonal allergies.

So if your child comes down with symptoms like a cough, runny nose or sore throat, should you keep them home?

As a primary care pediatric nurse practitioner, I help families make informed decisions about this question and other aspects of their child’s health.

Sending your child to school when they are sick can make recovery longer and spread illness to classmates and school staff. And all of these common infections can have serious consequences for some members of the school community – or their families – who have underlying health conditions that raise the risk of complications.

Parsing symptoms of common bugs

Figuring out whether your child has COVID-19, the flu, RSV or the common cold is important because some of these illnesses can cause serious complications in certain children.

COVID-19 has a higher risk of severe or long-term health effects. The others are not harmless, however. The flu can cause significant illness and hospitalization, and RSV can be especially serious for infants, young children and those with chronic health conditions.

All four of these illnesses spread easily. Keeping children home when they are sick helps reduce that spread, protecting vulnerable children and school staff.

Colds are caused by a variety of viruses – which is why they are so common. Frequent cold symptoms include coughing, sneezing, sore throat and a runny nose. These symptoms are generally mild and usually improve on their own within about 7-10 days.

COVID-19, on the other hand, is caused by a single virus called “severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2, or SARS-CoV-2.

The symptoms of COVID-19 tend to last longer – 7-14 days, with some lingering for three to four weeks. Beyond common cold symptoms like a cough, sore throat and runny nose, people sick with COVID-19 often have body aches, shortness of breath and difficulty breathing, headache, fatigue, fever and loss of taste and/or smell.

Probably the biggest telltale sign of COVID-19 is stomach symptoms such as abdominal pain, vomiting and diarrhea. Not all children experience these symptoms, but they are not associated with the common cold.

The symptoms of the flu, caused by the influenza A or B virus, tend to come on very quickly, unlike the gradual onset of a cold or COVID-19. Symptoms last about 3-7 days, and they’re very similar to those of COVID-19 – except they don’t include loss of taste or smell.

RSV symptoms align with those of a cold, but include a decreased appetite. Also, RSV affects the lungs and can lead to serious lung infections and hospitalization, especially for infants and toddlers. The symptoms can last three to four weeks.

Go to school or stay home?

If your child has symptoms that could be one of these viruses, keeping them home from school is a good idea. It helps protect other children and school staff from becoming ill.

A general rule of thumb for making the call is to consider whether your child can comfortably participate in classroom activities. If the answer is yes, then it’s likely fine to send them to school. But if they’ve had a fever in the past 24 hours, or have diarrhea, nausea or vomiting, it’s best that they stay home and rest.

The American Academy of Pediatrics notes that children with certain medical conditions, including obesity and diabetes, immune system deficiencies and complex medical conditions, may be more likely to become seriously ill if they contract COVID-19, RSV or the flu.

Should my child take a COVID-19 test?

Figuring out from symptoms alone whether your child has COVID-19 is often impossible. A home COVID-19 test can be a useful tool if you suspect COVID-19 – for example, if your child has some of the symptoms or was exposed to someone with COVID-19 – or if your child has a chronic medical condition that puts them at high risk of complications.

A positive result is reliable, but a negative result does not completely rule out a COVID-19 infection. That could be because you made an error in following the testing instructions, or because there’s not enough virus present to turn the test positive.

If the test is negative and symptoms remain, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recommends retesting in 48 hours or having your healthcare provider order a PCR test.

What about vaccines?

The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends vaccinations for COVID-19 and the flu for all children over the age of 6 months, unless a child has a medical reason not to receive it. A study published in December 2025 supports this recommendation.

The American Academy of Pediatrics and the CDC also recommend vaccinating infants against RSV based on certain criteria.

It’s important to know that children can still become infected with these viruses after getting the shot. However, once a child is vaccinated, their immune system recognizes the virus and responds more effectively.

Not only does the vaccine reduce your child’s risk of getting severely ill and being hospitalized if they get one of these viruses, but it also reduces the number of school days your child is likely to miss if they catch the virus.

When to seek healthcare

Whichever respiratory infection your child has, symptoms can usually be managed at home. There’s no need to seek medical care for every cough and runny nose, even if their COVID-19 test is positive. Most children recover from these viruses without complications.

However, some symptoms may indicate a more serious illness and should not be ignored. You know your child best – if their fever does not come down with medication, they are having trouble eating and drinking, or if they are having difficulty breathing, seek medical care.

Ann Sheehan is affiliated with Am Assoc of Nurse Practitioners (AANP) and Michigan Council of Nurse Practitioners (MICNP). I do not hold elected office in either of these organizations, currently. I am a member only.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/09/18/does-my-kid-have-covid-19-or-just-a-cold-a-pediatric-nurse-explains-how-to-tell-and-why-it-matters/

Is everyone entitled to a fair process before being forced out of their home?

The state of Michigan says “yes,” but the reality is often very different and the consequences are severe. In Michigan, landlords need a court order to evict a tenant.

The formal eviction process includes several steps and concludes only when a judge signs an order saying a tenant has to move.

A landlord who wants to remove a tenant must work through the court system. This is true even if the tenant fails to pay rent, plays music too loud – or even if the landlord wants to do renovations. If a landlord chooses not to renew a lease at the end of its term, a 30-day notice to the tenant is required.

Landlords are not legally allowed to retaliate against tenants who request repairs by not renewing their lease.

Detroit had 20,370 eviction cases filed in 2025. But my research shows that official counts underestimate the real number of evictions in metro Detroit by half because many landlords ignore the law and skip the formal court process.

I am a tenured social epidemiology professor, native and resident Detroiter, and leader of the first and most comprehensive research study on court-ordered and illegal evictions among Black women in the U.S.

My study includes numbers and stories from nearly 1,500 Black women ages 18-46 from metro Detroit, including nearly 800 women who experienced a court-ordered or illegal eviction in their lifetime. Black women and children are the groups most affected by evictions, because of the intersection between structural racism and sexism.

Evictions can harm the health of babies

I lead the SECURE Study in partnership with a community advisory board of Black women who are local, national and international leaders in fields such as human rights and social justice, advocacy, education, healthcare and journalism. Some have been evicted themselves.

In our most recent study, my research team and I used participant stories to show, for the first time, how illegal evictions can undermine the reproductive justice rights of Black women. Reproductive justice is focused on a set of interconnected human rights. It includes the rights to bodily autonomy, to choose whether to have children, and the ability to raise your children in safe and sustainable communities.

Our research found that an illegal eviction caused more than 1 in 3 pregnant or postpartum participants to have nowhere to live.

We also learned renter protections are strongest for those with a formal lease agreement. Twenty-six percent of women who were pregnant or postpartum when they were illegally evicted lacked a lease, and 21% of all interview participants who were illegally evicted had a month-to-month tenancy.

Deepening our understanding

Not many other academics study the public health impacts of eviction.

One of the few studies links all birth records from 2000 to 2016 to court records from the same time in Georgia. It showed that mothers who experienced a court-ordered eviction during their second or third trimesters were more likely to have adverse birth outcomes, including low birth weight and premature babies, compared with those who were evicted during their first trimester.

Another study used data on both court-ordered and informal evictions, looking at medical record data for children and surveys of caregivers from four U.S. cities from 2011 to 2019. Researchers found that children who experienced eviction were at higher risk of developing intellectual, motor skills and behavioral issues, being hospitalized after an emergency room visit, and experiencing worse health compared to children who hadn’t experienced eviction.

Our research adds something new because we asked people to share what they’ve been through.

Mothers and pregnant women experienced violence

I had in-depth interviews with 55 women who reported being illegally evicted. Nearly a third of them reported also being evicted when they were kids.

We learned that illegal evictions of pregnant women could cause food insecurity. Removals often involved violence and affected multiple generations.

One mother told me she had been evicted as a kid. Later in life, she rented a home in need of repairs. She and the landlord agreed that she wouldn’t pay rent for three months until the landlord fixed her home.

“The guy, you know, threatened me, and he wouldn’t fix the house,” the mother said. “When I moved out the house, the work still hadn’t been finished. I was forced out of our house by threats of violence.”

The move affected her and her 17-year-old daughter, who was pregnant.

“The day we moved out the house to go stay in a hotel, she ended up having her baby,” she said. “So I end up having to pay for hotel rooms for two months. So my new grandson and my children had to go there to sleep.”

One participant described the stress of being illegally evicted when she was pregnant with her son.

“Many a day I went without eating. I was very sick for a while. I’m not a small girl. I’ve never been small, but I lost a lot of weight. I was 116 at one point. … We just struggled really, really bad,” she said.

Some participants lost custody of their children after they were illegally evicted.

“I didn’t have a house that was stable for them anymore,” one woman told me. “I was working on it, trying to stay there and save money and whatnot at that time.” At the time of our conversation, she had not regained custody of her children.

State and local policies and programs designed to address the eviction crisis address only half of the problem, because they rarely if ever protect against or provide interventions for illegal evictions.

Our research suggests that expanding these programs with the unique needs of mothers and babies in mind could help guarantee their human right to housing, cut down on homelessness and prevent family separations.

Shawnita Sealy-Jefferson receives funding from Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. The views expressed herein do not necessarily reflect the views of the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation.

Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/09/18/black-moms-and-pregnant-women-forced-out-of-their-homes-in-metro-detroit-face-health-and-safety-threats/