The essence of this study is captured by the voices of eighteen care providers—ten foster carers and eight kinship carers—asked about how they perceive barriers, enablers, and ultimately, possibilities for improving family inclusion. While foster care is provided by individuals recruited for this specific role (who might initially have no personal relationship with the child), kinship care is performed by relatives or close family friends who already know the child, often grandparents or aunts and uncles. The caregivers’ testimonies reveal that such differences in background and relationship to the child can significantly shape the kind of family inclusion that is realized.

Participants in the research voiced concern that the out-of-home care system, in which agencies and caseworkers typically manage contact between children and birth parents, often fails to make family inclusion a priority. Both foster carers and kinship carers recounted examples of rigid rules, limited policy guidelines, or top-down agency directives that sometimes forbade even casual contact. Many said it was difficult to juggle the demands placed upon them—particularly foster carers who might be looking after several unrelated children, each with a different family that might wish to see them. They also described feeling under-resourced and unprepared to manage relationships with parents, even if they believed firmly in the value of that connection for the child.

In contrasting the two types of care, a salient difference emerges: kinship carers largely come to the role because they are already connected to the child, whether as a grandparent, aunt, cousin, or close family friend. They tend to assume that maintaining a child’s sense of identity and belonging within the extended family is crucial. Kinship carers in this study almost universally said they believe children benefit from regularly seeing their parents, even if those parents lead troubled lives. Rather than trying to shield the child from any knowledge of those difficulties, these kinship carers described offering the child safe opportunities to witness and understand the complexities in the parent’s life. They saw this as a critical part of the child’s identity formation. It was not only about a single “visit” policy but forging a continuing family relationship that ensures children know precisely who their parents are, both the good and the bad, thereby preventing any illusions that might form if parental contact was completely blocked. This approach, though, required the kinship carers to become adept at handling very real risks. Some parents struggled with mental health issues, addictions, or even criminal behavior, but the kinship carers felt their prior knowledge of the parent gave them enough insight to manage those risks effectively. They would time visits to align with the parent’s more stable moments and maintain strict boundaries, like prohibiting arguments in the child’s presence. Because many kinship carers were older or had personal experiences of trauma themselves, they had taken it upon themselves to learn about trauma-informed care or counseling approaches, which helped them in these delicate negotiations.

Foster carers’ experiences overlapped in some ways but departed from that of kinship carers in others. Foster carers likewise tended to endorse the principle that continuing to see parents could be beneficial for the child’s emotional well-being, but the way they enacted inclusion often revolved around formal, agency-sanctioned visits. Rather than embedding the parent in everyday routines (like bedtime phone calls or casual outings), foster carers sometimes relied on structured “family time,” which might be supervised by agency staff or bounded by certain conditions. Nonetheless, many foster carers signaled a desire to do more, to be more flexible in letting the child communicate with parents or grandparents, but said they felt stymied by official policies that either prohibited casual contact or demanded an extra layer of logistical planning with minimal agency support.

One key barrier reported by foster carers was the sheer burden of multiple obligations. Some were caring for up to four or five children from different families, meaning they had to coordinate each child’s unique case plan, therapy sessions, medical appointments, and visits with distinct birth families. They worried about being overwhelmed. Without additional support from caseworkers, it was hard to handle all those obligations. The net effect was that parents’ requests to see or speak to their child outside of scheduled visits were often turned down, not necessarily because the carer opposed it, but because they simply could not juggle the demands. That underscores a basic systemic issue: with too few foster carers available, the system strains both children and adults.

Despite these obstacles, foster carers in long-term placements sometimes described a remarkable evolution in their relationship with birth parents, even when the initial relationship was tense or stilted. Over time, if the parent demonstrated stability and the foster carer could remain open and empathetic, they might develop a cooperative, almost co-parenting dynamic. These examples stood out because they illustrated the possibility that even in a complex system—one that often sets up foster carers and birth parents as adversaries—people can learn to collaborate if given space and time.

Across both carer groups, formal or informal learning experiences were cited as transformative. Some kinship carers obtained specialized counseling or trauma training, while a few foster carers enrolled in courses to understand generational poverty or addiction. These forms of education helped them empathize with birth parents rather than simply seeing them as irresponsible or unworthy. This shift in perspective proved crucial. By intentionally setting aside judgment, empathizing with the parent’s life, and focusing on the best interests of the child, carers discovered that they could actively promote family inclusion in meaningful ways. One kinship carer, for instance, made sure the child’s mother could attend key events at school or extracurricular activities, so the child felt a continuity of family life. Some foster carers reported sending the birth mother text updates about the child’s day, thereby allowing the mother to maintain her sense of mothering identity.

Yet the system seldom rewards such initiatives or trains caregivers to manage them. In multiple stories, participants lamented that caseworkers rarely asked, “How can we help you build a better rapport with the mother or father?” Instead, the primary focus was often on risk management or compliance with a checklist. Carers observed that agencies sometimes used formulaic planning processes that paid little attention to the individual child’s situation or the parent’s particular struggles. This context forced carers to decide on their own whether to attempt more inclusive practices. Many described pushing back against the agency, advocating for parents who had been sidelined or outright dismissed.

In short, family inclusion rose and fell not just with policy directives but with the personal attitudes and skills of carers. Kinship carers, who already knew the parent, more readily accepted that parents should remain in a parenting role, no matter how complicated. Foster carers similarly believed children benefit from seeing parents, but found themselves constantly negotiating structural roadblocks and time constraints. Both kinds of carers appealed for more training, peer support, and caseworker buy-in to strengthen their ability to make family inclusion a reality. This call for assistance echoes findings from other research that parents benefit from structured support if they are to maintain healthy connections with children in care. Here, the unique perspective is that carers also need that support, because it is they who are at the center of daily life with the child, noticing changes in behavior and mood.

A consistent refrain throughout the interviews is that there is a fundamental mismatch between what children need—ongoing family relationships—and the system’s risk-averse, compliance-oriented processes. Carers described that the fear of liability sometimes prompts an agency to prohibit the simplest interactions, such as letting a father, who happens to pass by on the street, spontaneously talk to his child. This can breed resentment, confusion, or heartbreak for both parent and child. Indeed, the system’s approach can feel so harsh that some carers spoke of it as hostile to the very idea of family. They saw case plans that cut out parents from any role in decision-making, or superficial “cut-and-paste” planning documents that do not consider each family’s unique situation.

In the face of these systemic challenges, the small everyday acts of resourcefulness by carers—contacting incarcerated parents to ensure the child hears their voice, inviting the parent over to help with a child’s medical anxiety, preparing an older child to spend time with a mother going through mental health struggles—underscore that family inclusion is not a matter of one-size-fits-all. It is, rather, a nuanced, context-specific approach. Parents with severe mental health disorders may require different boundaries or scheduling. Other parents might be able to step back into a co-parenting role if provided some training and support. It is precisely the individual knowledge that carers cultivate—particularly kinship carers—that allows for these flexible, responsive approaches.

All of this suggests that there is vast potential for out-of-home care agencies to bolster their training regimens, systematically encouraging empathy, open communication, conflict resolution, and insight into social disadvantage. One can envision a suite of modules delivered not just to new foster carers, but also to kinship carers, birth parents, and even caseworkers. The goal would be to develop a shared language and understanding that helps them function as a “team around the child,” a phrase some participants used to highlight the value of family inclusion. Such a reorientation would require, however, more than just a handful of training sessions; it would entail systemic changes that give foster and kinship carers a consistent voice in decision-making, relieve them of unwieldy administrative tasks, and allow for deeper planning with parents.

Where does all this leave the concept of family inclusion in child welfare? The research underscores that practice and policy must shift to truly honor a child’s right to maintain family connections. If some parents remain dangerous, then the focus must be on strategies for safe interaction, not total erasure. If a parent’s problems are mild or well-managed, agencies should consider how best to maximize the child’s contact, ensuring that they have a sense of continuity and belonging. In both these scenarios, the carer’s cooperation is essential, but it cannot thrive in a vacuum; they need well-designed case planning, a supportive culture, and training that takes seriously the complexities of family dynamics.

One of the most positive findings is that, despite the heavy demands on them, both foster carers and kinship carers can and do assume a “toward parent” posture, genuinely seeking to include parents in daily activities that matter to the child. And in the face of a system that sometimes sidelines parents, carers can choose to fill the gap, positioning the parent not merely as a visitor but as someone whose voice matters in the child’s life. The recognition that parents can provide love, knowledge of cultural heritage, and an anchor for the child’s identity remains a powerful motivator, especially for kinship carers but also for many foster carers who have discovered that better outcomes result from respecting birth families.

At a broader level, it remains critical to acknowledge that Aboriginal children in particular face an even greater risk of being cut off from their families and cultural communities, creating yet another layer of injustice. Ensuring family inclusion for Indigenous children is doubly urgent, given the legacy of forcible removals and the ongoing trauma faced by many Indigenous families. This article’s emphasis on kinship care resonates with the well-documented principle that culturally appropriate placements with extended family can provide a sense of belonging and continuity that mainstream approaches often lack.

In conclusion, the findings demonstrate that out-of-home care, as it currently operates, does not uniformly or robustly support family inclusion in ways that best serve children. Yet, ironically, caregivers—both kinship and foster—are willing, if sometimes under-prepared, to make family inclusion a priority. Many do so through their own ingenuity and empathy, forging relationships with parents and integrating them into the child’s life in small but significant ways. If child welfare agencies and policymakers were to systemically encourage and train carers to facilitate family inclusion, and if they were to provide resources and flexibility to balance safety with a child’s relational needs, the gains could be substantial: stronger identity, improved well-being, and a deeper sense of familial continuity for children who otherwise might feel unmoored. That is the promise of family inclusion, and the voices in this study ring out as a powerful call for reforms that recognize and advance it. By centering the experiences of both kinship and foster carers, it becomes evident that the entire ecosystem of child welfare can be reshaped so that children do not simply “survive” outside their birth family environment, but thrive in connection with it, even after legal removal. Family inclusion, then, emerges not only as a moral imperative tied to the child’s rights, but as a pragmatic strategy for better outcomes—an approach that fosters belonging, identity, and resilience.

Subject of Research: Family inclusion for children in care
Article Title : Family inclusion for children in care: How foster and kinship carers make it work
News Publication Date : 2024
Article Doi References : https://doi.org/10.1016/j.childyouth.2024.108106
Keywords : Family Inclusion, Foster Care, Kinship Care, Best Practice, Carer Recruitment

In recent years, the app’s influence has triggered growing unease among policymakers. At least a dozen governments worldwide have enacted varying degrees of bans or restrictions on TikTok due to concerns about data privacy, the spread of misinformation, and the nebulous ties between ByteDance (TikTok’s parent company) and the Chinese government. In the United States specifically, these anxieties were institutionalized when Congress passed measures prohibiting federal employees from installing or using TikTok on government-issued devices. Despite these moves, TikTok thrives as a political battlefield. On one side are lawmakers and partisans outraged by alleged security lapses or the app’s supposed role in fueling extremism; on the other side are teenagers, content creators, and political activists who view TikTok as a vital platform for expression and community-building. Caught in the middle are a rapidly growing number of “political” accounts—some verified, some blatantly parody, and some deceptively purporting to be official accounts of well-known politicians or major parties.

In the process of exploring TikTok’s complicated political ecosystem, researchers began to notice how frequently “trolling” makes an appearance. Traditionally, “trolling” is understood as posting inflammatory or disruptive content designed to provoke strong emotional reactions. But scholars also distinguish between malevolent trolling, which can involve hateful language, insults, or manipulation, and humoristic trolling, where the aim is playful sarcasm, satire, or comedic critique rather than outright harm. The platform’s youth-centric culture—fueled by memes, stitched videos, and comedic lip-sync routines—creates fertile ground for these two extremes of trolling to flourish, particularly around politics. As a result, anyone scrolling through TikTok in search of political content is likely to find a cacophony of jokes, parodies, ad hominem attacks, snappy comebacks, and heartfelt endorsements all jostling for prominence.

A newly released study has set out to dissect precisely these phenomena. The researchers—concerned that political trolling on TikTok is poorly understood—collected data from a range of TikTok accounts claiming to represent high-profile American politicians and major political parties. It turns out that many of these accounts (even some with “verified” designations) exhibit suspicious patterns, reminiscent of trolls rather than genuine representatives of the politicians or organizations in question. Over 88 posts and 8,000 comments were analyzed to reveal how online participants engage with, or react to, these questionable TikTok accounts.

One of the most striking revelations from the study is that political trolling on TikTok reflects the broader phenomenon sometimes called “politainment,” in which politics and entertainment become inexorably blended. Sure enough, many posts use background music or cartoonish graphic effects—common tools in TikTok’s entertainment repertoire—to deliver messages that range from benign commentary to overt political propaganda. But in the midst of all that politainment, researchers found an intriguing asymmetry in how Democrats and Republicans operate and how they’re targeted by trolls on TikTok.

On the one hand, the data showed that Republicans are more likely to post content attacking Democrats than they are to promote their own conservative ideals. In contrast, Democrats, at least in these deceptive or trollish accounts studied, more frequently champion their own viewpoints and agendas rather than using their posts to lambaste Republicans. This seemingly aligns with the broader findings that the Republican Party in the United States often embraces stark ideological language, while the Democratic Party aims to rally diverse coalitions around specific policy proposals.

Even more fascinating is how people on TikTok respond to these posts. Republicans’ posts appear to be trolled more heavily overall compared to Democratic posts, yet Democrats end up being the target of more total trolling comments when you consider not just their own posts but also the posts of their political opponents. It’s a paradoxical situation: Republican-leaning content inspires more commenters to chime in with trollish remarks (both humorous and hateful), but the actual “butt” of these jokes or insults—what the trolls are aiming at—turns out to be Democrats. The political content might be posted under a deceptive handle like “TrumpVlogs,” but the trolls in the comments often pivot to trash Biden or the Democratic Party, with little regard for the authenticity of the account in question.

Researchers further broke down the nature of these troll comments into humoristic and malevolent categories. Across the board, humoristic trolling—lighthearted teasing or satirical jibes—accounted for a bigger proportion of troll posts than outright vicious or slanderous attacks. In part, that might reflect TikTok’s ethos, which prizes entertainment value, comedic timing, and “viral hits” above more sober or vicious lines of political debate. Still, the malevolent strain of trolling should not be underestimated; whenever an original post specifically attacked the opposing party, comments devolved quickly into more personal vitriol and hateful speech. In other words, it seems that a certain threshold of hostility within a post can actively spur commenters to escalate the tenor of the conversation, transitioning from wry jokes to toxic harassment.

Several additional dimensions of the study stand out. Notably, most of the accounts turned out to be deceptive. Some tried to mimic the actual politicians’ official accounts, brazenly copying their style, sometimes even linking to public White House pages to cultivate an illusion of authenticity. Others claimed to be state or national party representatives when they apparently weren’t. Why construct such misleading personas? It appears to serve multiple purposes: signaling support for a political figure, sowing confusion by blending fake news clips with actual footage, or galvanizing a select in-group of like-minded or unsuspecting viewers. In this sense, the deception is not only about impersonation, but also about creating a space in which the curated political narrative prevails. Trolling and disinformation are thus tightly interwoven: one helps reinforce the other, fueling further confusion, echo chambers, and emotional reactions.

The question that lingers is how TikTok’s platform design shapes all these behaviors. From the moment users open the application, they’re bombarded by the algorithmically selected “For You” page, in which the system displays videos based on prior watch history or popular trends—rather than overt user-driven search. Could this feed-based approach inadvertently heighten the visibility of inflammatory political content? Possibly. The brief format of the videos discourages in-depth analysis or nuance, and the comedic culture of the app can trivialize serious issues. It’s also been said that TikTok’s algorithm is particularly adept at identifying users’ interests and funneling them towards increasingly niche topics. Once it notes a user’s interest in political content—perhaps by dwelling on a particular trollish clip or finishing an entire barrage of comedic political roasts—it begins amplifying more of the same. This cyclical feedback might explain why some of the troll videos in the study drew thousands of comments, even if the account in question was demonstrably fake or otherwise dubious.

Understanding TikTok’s role as a new form of “digital public square” is urgent, given that so many people now report using it as a source of “news”—regardless of how questionable that news might be. Younger generations who have never known a life without social media are especially susceptible, as they’re likely to stumble onto political messaging that doesn’t appear overtly partisan but subtly influences their beliefs through memes and viral jokes. Add to that the strong presence of foreign state actors or ideologically motivated groups that manipulate the platform, and the stakes become even higher. Evidence from the 2016 U.S. election underscores that foreign meddling through troll accounts can have real-world consequences, shaping perceptions of candidates or turnout for electoral events.

The broader phenomenon of “asymmetric polarization” in the U.S. political sphere offers an illuminating lens for these findings. Observers of American politics have long noted how the Republican Party has embraced a more ideologically extreme posture in its rhetoric, while Democrats, although they too have grown more polarized, tend to pivot around specific groups or policy proposals. This imbalance might be mirrored in the very nature of TikTok’s trolls: conservatives intensifying negativity and mockery directed toward their adversaries, and liberals gravitating toward sarcastic, comedic jabs or attempts to unify under shared programs. It’s also possible that left-leaning creators on TikTok, and their corresponding audience, have effectively co-opted the “late-night comedy show” approach, turning complex political issues into short satirical sketches. By contrast, more overtly conservative accounts frequently adopt an “us versus them” framing, rallying their followers with calls to defend certain values or culture-war stances against an implicitly menacing rival.

Nonetheless, one cannot fully dismiss the presence of malevolent trolling on every side of the political spectrum. While humoristic jibes may predominate, when an account or a post escalates attacks towards a specific party or politician, a wave of nasty comments often follows. Those commenters might lob personal insults (“He’s a disaster for America,” “Sleepy so-and-so,” etc.), or conspiratorial references to alleged malfeasance or disloyalty. This dark side of TikTok politics, where deception meets aggression, underscores the necessity of carefully examining the interplay of platform, anonymity, short-form video culture, and the psychological allure of public confrontation.

From a policy standpoint, it’s important to note that solutions are far from straightforward. If government bodies prohibit use of TikTok for official communications, they may stifle genuine outreach to younger demographics, ceding ground to trolls or fan-made accounts that fill the vacuum. On the other hand, if political actors embrace TikTok en masse, they risk normalizing an environment in which serious political dialogue is replaced by pithy roasts or sensational doctored video edits. Questions also arise about how best to moderate content. While TikTok has instituted community guidelines, algorithmic moderation struggles to capture the subtleties between harmless sarcasm, targeted hate speech, and well-disguised disinformation. Human moderators can be overwhelmed by the volume and the evolving rhetorical strategies of trolls, who adapt quickly to new rules or detection patterns.

For academic researchers, TikTok stands out as a proving ground for theories on political communication, mass persuasion, and collective action. Traditional concepts such as “echo chambers” or “filter bubbles” may need re-evaluation in a short-video context, particularly given how easily TikTok’s recommended feed can break across political lines for the sake of viral entertainment. It’s also vital to explore how deeper forces—like cultural norms around comedy, spectacle, and cynicism—shape political engagement in the modern era. The line separating “politics” from “entertainment” has blurred, leaving behind a complicated environment in which authenticity is questionable, but the potential to sway public sentiment is real.

Though the study at hand focused specifically on eight fake or unverified accounts claiming ties to Joe Biden, Donald Trump, the Democratic Party, or the Republican Party, the implications reach well beyond that limited scope. Researchers stress that a far larger cluster of political accounts on TikTok awaits analysis. The possibility that many of these accounts are “humoristic fakes,” “serious impersonations,” or simple fan tributes calls for further digging. Meanwhile, verification on TikTok is still notoriously opaque and thus not a reliable indicator of authenticity, as in the high-profile case discovered by these researchers, where “verified” proved insufficient to confirm legitimacy.

All told, one clear lesson emerges: the TikTok political universe is at once comedic, combative, and startlingly influential. Some accounts cleverly engage in humoristic trolling, coaxing viewers to laugh at their opponents while perhaps also absorbing a subtle message about electoral choices or policymaking. Others cross the boundary into more dangerous territory, stoking animosity and polarizing segments of the user base through hateful or deceptive messaging. Across these two extremes, the emotional resonance of short, snappy videos can mobilize thousands of viewers into a digital dogpile of comments, where fleeting jokes coexist uncomfortably with genuine slander.

In the shifting tapestry of 21st-century media, it may be that the greatest challenge lies in distinguishing genuine civic discourse from trollish spectacle. Even genuine politicians and established news organizations make use of comedic stunts to gain traction on TikTok, further muddying the waters. For educators, media watchdogs, and policymakers, the urgent question is whether to treat the app as a whimsical anomaly in the social media space or as a potent catalyst that might permanently reshape the public’s political engagement. For regular citizens curious about politics, being more mindful of TikTok’s entertaining but manipulative tendencies becomes a necessary skill—particularly for the young, who might confuse cleverly edited, short-form content with credible discourse.

In the long run, the puzzle remains: how do you preserve TikTok’s creative spark, the joyful swirl of memes and videos that made it famous, without letting it become a breeding ground for disinformation and confrontational political extremism? The study thus suggests that any effort to regulate or “fix” the platform will face significant hurdles—algorithmically, legally, and culturally. Politicians and the public both thrive on drama, and trolls of all stripes tap into that thirst for spectacle. Perhaps the best we can hope for is a collective push toward digital literacy. If users recognize a troll when they see one, and if they develop the habit of verifying suspicious accounts before sharing that juicy viral “gotcha!” clip, then maybe the corrosive impact of TikTok’s political side can be mitigated. But without concerted effort in media education, malicious trolls, and even well-intentioned humorists, will continue to leverage the platform’s features for their own ideological or personal gains.

Despite the challenges, TikTok will continue to be a magnet for people looking to follow, debate, or mock the day’s political headlines. It delivers compelling, snack-sized content that resonates with millions, inviting both sincere political engagement and comedic irreverence. The blending of these two impulses makes for a digital environment quite unlike anything we’ve seen before. It’s a place where clownish satirists and deadly-serious partisans jostle for clout, sometimes inadvertently reinforcing each other’s messages. And it’s precisely there, amidst the carnival of duets and stitches, that the soul of modern politics is being forged—half jest, half scorn, but always bent on shaping public opinion in 15-second doses.

Subject of Research: Political trolling on TikTok
Article Title : Political Trolling on TikTok
News Publication Date : 2024
Article Doi References : https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tele.2024.102226
Keywords : TikTok, Political trolling, Politainment, Asymmetric political trolling, Misinformation

The provisional schools established in Israel during the conflict aimed to provide immediate educational support for approximately 48,000 displaced students. These schools were rapidly set up in temporary facilities such as hotels and cultural institutions, relying heavily on volunteer educators, many of whom had little to no experience in similar contexts. The absence of clear operational guidelines and the ad hoc nature of their establishment presented unique challenges, compelling educators to navigate an environment of uncertainty and disorder.

One of the most striking findings from this study is the interplay between teacher autonomy and systemic disorder. On the one hand, the absence of top-down control empowered educators to innovate and tailor their approaches to the needs of displaced students. On the other hand, this autonomy often became burdensome, leaving educators without clear expectations or adequate support. Teachers had to strike a balance between maintaining order and fostering adaptability, a task made even more complex by the unpredictable attendance and diverse backgrounds of students.

The students’ conditions posed significant challenges. Many of them had experienced traumatic events, leading to behavioral issues and emotional instability. Educators reported that students often exhibited low motivation and struggled to engage in academic activities. These challenges were exacerbated by the physical conditions of the temporary schools, which were frequently inadequate for effective teaching and learning. Teachers faced the daunting task of creating a semblance of normalcy in an environment characterized by constant disruption.

Disorder permeated every aspect of these provisional schools. The mixing of students from different schools, the lack of consistent teaching staff, and the unpredictable schedules all contributed to a chaotic environment. Teachers had to contend with classrooms where students’ academic levels varied widely, making it difficult to deliver standardized instruction. The recruitment of volunteer educators further added to the instability, as many volunteers had to adapt to teaching subjects or age groups outside their expertise.

Amid these challenges, educators demonstrated remarkable adaptability. One common strategy was the creation of routines and regularities to provide students with a sense of stability. Teachers incorporated activities that fostered emotional support, such as starting lessons with sharing sessions or engaging students in group activities. These routines not only helped students cope with their displacement but also facilitated a smoother transition into academic learning.

Adapting content and pedagogy emerged as another critical strategy. Educators modified the curriculum to better suit the needs and emotional states of their students. For instance, some teachers integrated socio-emotional learning into academic subjects, using examples and exercises that resonated with the students’ experiences. Others resorted to traditional teaching methods, finding that these approaches provided a sense of familiarity and structure for students struggling to adapt.

The autonomy granted to teachers played a dual role. For some, it was an opportunity to innovate and exercise professional judgment. Teachers were able to set their own goals, focusing on either academic progress or emotional well-being, depending on the needs of their students. However, for others, this autonomy was overwhelming, as the lack of guidance left them feeling unsupported and unsure of their effectiveness. This highlights the importance of striking a balance between granting autonomy and providing structured support, particularly in crisis settings.

From a complexity theory perspective, these provisional schools exemplify the dynamics of complex adaptive systems. The schools’ responses to the crisis were not dictated by central policies but emerged from the interactions and decisions of individual educators. This bottom-up approach allowed for flexibility and rapid adaptation, essential traits in a crisis. However, it also revealed the limitations of decentralized systems, where the absence of clear attractors—or organizing principles—can lead to inefficiencies and inconsistencies.

The findings of this study underscore the need for more robust frameworks to support educators in crisis settings. Policymakers should consider developing preemptive plans that outline the establishment and operation of provisional schools for displaced students. Such plans should include guidelines for balancing autonomy with support, ensuring that educators have the resources and direction needed to navigate complex challenges.

Furthermore, professional development programs tailored to crisis education could equip teachers with the skills and knowledge required to manage such extraordinary circumstances. Training in socio-emotional learning, trauma-informed teaching practices, and adaptability would enable educators to better address the needs of displaced students while maintaining their own well-being.

The experiences of educators in these provisional schools also offer broader lessons for educational systems worldwide. As the frequency and intensity of crises increase, traditional approaches to education may prove inadequate. Embracing the principles of complexity theory—such as fostering adaptability, promoting self-organization, and balancing order with innovation—can enhance the resilience of educational systems. By doing so, we can ensure that the right to education is upheld even in the most challenging of times.

This study provides a valuable starting point for further research into the dynamics of education in crisis settings. Future studies could explore the experiences of displaced students, examine the long-term impacts of provisional schooling, and investigate the scalability of the strategies identified here. By deepening our understanding of these issues, we can better prepare for the educational challenges of an increasingly uncertain world.

Subject of Research: Education in Crisis Settings, Provisional Schools for Displaced Students

Article Title: Teachers in Provisional Schools for Displaced Students: Navigating Challenges, Autonomy, and Responses

News Publication Date: February 2025

Article DOI References: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tate.2024.104868

Image Credits : Scienmag

Keywords: Education in Crisis, Displaced Students, Provisional Schools, Teacher Autonomy, Complexity Theory, Crisis Education, Adaptive Teaching Strategies

The relationship between humans and dogs dates back approximately 30,000 years, with domestication playing a pivotal role in shaping dogs into loyal companions. Over millennia, dogs transitioned from being hunting allies to cherished family members, particularly in Western societies. This deep-seated bond raises the intriguing possibility of mutual influence between humans and dogs, resulting in noticeable resemblances in both physical traits and behavioral patterns. Several studies have systematically examined this phenomenon, shedding light on why dogs often mirror their owners in appearance and personality.

The concept of physical resemblance between dogs and their owners is a widely recognized and visually striking phenomenon. Empirical studies have validated this observation through various methodologies, including photographic matching tasks. For instance, participants in experiments have been able to accurately pair images of dogs with their owners based solely on physical cues. Remarkably, one study demonstrated that even the eye region alone was sufficient for participants to identify matching pairs. Attributes such as hair length and ear shape have also been linked, particularly among female owners who tend to choose dogs with features that align with their own. The preference for physical resemblance may be explained by psychological mechanisms such as the Mere Exposure Effect, which suggests that familiarity breeds preference, or the Preference for Self-Similarity, an evolutionary tendency to select companions resembling oneself.

Weight and body shape further illustrate the parallels between humans and their pets. Research has found a correlation between the body mass index (BMI) of owners and the weight of their dogs, with this relationship strengthening over time. This finding suggests that lifestyle factors, such as exercise habits and diet, contribute to shared physical attributes. However, the extent to which these similarities result from initial selection versus the gradual alignment of lifestyles remains a topic of debate.

Beyond physical traits, the alignment of personality characteristics between dogs and their owners offers profound insights into the dynamics of their relationship. Numerous studies have identified significant correlations between human and canine personality dimensions, particularly in traits such as extraversion and neuroticism. Owners who score high on extraversion often have dogs that exhibit sociable and outgoing behaviors, while neurotic owners tend to have pets displaying heightened anxiety or stress-related behaviors. These findings support the hypothesis that emotional convergence and co-regulation play crucial roles in shaping personality similarities over time.

Emotional convergence refers to the gradual alignment of emotional states and reactions between close partners, a phenomenon well-documented in human relationships. In the context of dog-owner dyads, emotional convergence may manifest as synchronized responses to environmental stimuli or shared coping mechanisms. For example, a neurotic owner might inadvertently reinforce their dog’s anxious behaviors through inconsistent interactions, creating a feedback loop that amplifies their similarities. Co-regulation, a related concept, involves the mutual influence of partners on each other’s emotions and behaviors, further solidifying their shared traits.

Reinforcement mechanisms and observational learning also contribute to personality alignment. Owners may consciously or unconsciously reward behaviors in their dogs that mirror their own tendencies, shaping their pets’ personality over time. Similarly, dogs, as highly social and observant animals, may imitate their owners’ actions and emotional expressions, leading to a deeper behavioral resemblance. This bidirectional influence underscores the dynamic nature of the human-dog relationship, wherein both parties continuously adapt to each other’s cues and behaviors.

While the evidence for personality similarities is compelling, some studies have raised questions about the relative importance of initial selection versus gradual convergence. The “Similarity Because of Choice” hypothesis posits that individuals select dogs with traits that align with their own preferences and characteristics. For instance, owners seeking active and energetic companions may gravitate toward breeds known for their vitality, such as Border Collies or Labradors. Conversely, the “Similarity Over Time” hypothesis suggests that prolonged interaction and shared experiences drive the alignment of traits. Longitudinal studies tracking dog-owner pairs over several years could provide valuable insights into the relative contributions of these factors.

Despite the growing body of evidence, several methodological challenges limit the generalizability of current findings. Variability in study designs, such as differences in how dog and owner personalities are measured, complicates direct comparisons across studies. Additionally, the overrepresentation of certain demographics, such as female participants or purebred dogs, may introduce bias. Future research should strive for greater diversity in study populations and adopt standardized methods for assessing personality traits in both humans and dogs.

The implications of dog-owner similarities extend beyond academic curiosity, offering practical insights into the selection and care of pets. Understanding the factors that drive these resemblances can help prospective owners choose dogs that are well-suited to their lifestyles and personalities, fostering more harmonious relationships. Moreover, recognizing the bidirectional influence of behavior and emotion can inform training and intervention strategies, promoting the well-being of both dogs and their owners.

The evidence for similarities between dogs and their owners is both compelling and multifaceted, encompassing physical traits, personality dimensions, and behavioral tendencies. While the “Similarity Because of Choice” hypothesis accounts for initial selection effects, the “Similarity Over Time” hypothesis highlights the dynamic and evolving nature of the human-dog bond. As research in this field continues to expand, a deeper understanding of these phenomena promises to enrich our appreciation of the unique and enduring connection between humans and their canine companions.

Subject of Research: Dog-owner similarities in appearance and personality.
Article Title: Like owner, like dog – A systematic review about similarities in dog-human dyads.
News Publication Date: February 2025.
Article Doi References: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.paid.2024.112884
Image Credits: Scienmag.
Keywords: Dog-owner similarity, personality, physical resemblance, dog ownership, human-animal relationship.

In the United States, Black adolescent girls face disproportionately high rates of sexually transmitted infections (STIs), with chlamydia and gonorrhea rates significantly exceeding those observed in their White counterparts. These disparities persist despite data showing that Black women engage in fewer high-risk sexual behaviors compared to other racial groups. Such paradoxes underscore the role of structural factors—including systemic racism and racial discrimination—in perpetuating adverse sexual health outcomes. Structural racism manifests through discriminatory policies and practices embedded in healthcare, education, and broader societal systems, creating an environment where Black young women encounter barriers to obtaining comprehensive and equitable sexual health education and care.

A groundbreaking study explored these issues through the voices of 18 Black adolescent girls aged 13–19 years, recruited from a longitudinal study examining youth violence, racism, and racial discrimination. Utilizing virtual focus groups and individual interviews, researchers sought to understand participants’ perceptions of structural racism and its impact on their SRH behaviors. The findings reveal four key themes: the historical and contemporary impacts of slavery and medical racism, the oversexualization and stereotyping of Black girls, the dual role of adults as both barriers and facilitators, and the self-efficacy Black girls exhibit in educating themselves about SRH.

Participants highlighted how historical legacies of slavery and ongoing medical racism influence their health choices and interactions with healthcare providers. Many expressed a deep distrust of medical systems, shaped by lived experiences of neglect and bias. For instance, participants described instances of being dismissed or ignored when seeking care, often due to stereotypes about Black women’s pain tolerance or assumptions about their sexual behaviors. This distrust, compounded by fears of adverse maternal outcomes, influenced decisions regarding sexual activity, contraception, and future childbirth plans. The historical narrative of oppression also played a role in partner selection, with some participants expressing discomfort engaging in relationships with individuals from racial groups associated with historical trauma.

Stereotypes and oversexualization emerged as significant barriers to accessing sexual health education and care. Participants recounted being sexualized from a young age due to physical development, leading to restrictions on clothing choices and heightened scrutiny of their behavior. These experiences fostered feelings of objectification and shame, deterring open discussions about SRH with trusted adults. Additionally, participants noted societal double standards in perceptions of Black women’s sexuality, where actions such as purchasing contraception or seeking abortion services were stigmatized, further hindering their ability to access necessary resources.

The role of adults in participants’ SRH education was described as both supportive and obstructive. While some participants relied on their mothers for guidance, others encountered resistance from parents or caregivers who viewed discussions about sex as taboo. This lack of communication often left participants to seek information independently, with social media and peer networks serving as primary sources of knowledge. Participants expressed a preference for accurate, accessible information delivered in relatable formats, emphasizing the need for educational interventions to address these gaps.

Despite the barriers posed by systemic racism and inadequate support, Black adolescent girls demonstrated remarkable resilience and agency in navigating their sexual health. Many sought information proactively, utilizing digital platforms and peer conversations to fill gaps in their knowledge. Social media emerged as a vital tool for accessing SRH content, with participants citing platforms like TikTok and Instagram as sources of user-friendly and relatable information. This self-directed approach underscores the importance of empowering Black young women through culturally responsive and strengths-based interventions.

The study’s findings align with broader literature linking racism to adverse SRH outcomes. For example, research has shown that experiences of racial discrimination during childhood and adolescence are associated with higher-risk sexual behaviors and poorer health outcomes in adulthood. Addressing these disparities requires interventions that incorporate frameworks such as Black feminist theory (BFT) and critical race theory (CRT). These approaches emphasize the significance of lived experiences, community engagement, and the acknowledgment of systemic inequities in designing effective health education programs.

Empowerment-based strategies hold promise for improving SRH outcomes among Black girls. Interventions that celebrate positive aspects of Black female identity, provide culturally relevant education, and foster open communication within families have shown success in promoting health and well-being. For instance, programs grounded in BFT that incorporate narratives of resilience and strength have been effective in building trust and encouraging healthy behaviors. Additionally, public health initiatives should prioritize integrating historical and sociocultural contexts into SRH education, enabling participants to critically examine the impact of systemic racism on their health.

While this study offers valuable insights, it is not without limitations. The sample size and geographic focus on Western Pennsylvania may limit the generalizability of the findings to other regions. Moreover, potential exposure to racial justice content through the parent study may have influenced participants’ awareness of structural racism. Future research should aim to include diverse populations and explore longitudinal outcomes to further understand the intersections of racism and sexual health.

Ultimately, addressing the sexual health needs of Black adolescent girls requires a multifaceted approach that acknowledges the pervasive influence of structural racism. By integrating empowerment-based frameworks, fostering open dialogue, and leveraging digital platforms to disseminate accurate information, practitioners can help dismantle barriers and promote equitable health outcomes. The resilience and self-efficacy demonstrated by Black young women in this study serve as a testament to their strength and a call to action for systemic change.

Subject of Research: The impact of structural racism and racial discrimination on the sexual and reproductive health behaviors of Black adolescent girls.
Article Title : How Racism and Discrimination Impacts Black Young Women’s Sexual Health: The Influence of Racial and Sexual Stereotypes on Educational Access
News Publication Date : January 13, 2025
Article Doi References : https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jadohealth.2024.10.009
Image Credits : Scienmag
Keywords : Racism, Sexual health education, Black adolescent girls, Structural racism, Racial discrimination, Reproductive justice, Black feminist theory

AI’s integration into space exploration is not novel, with early implementations such as NASA’s Remote Agent Experiment (RAX) in 1999, which autonomously managed spacecraft operations. However, the sophistication of AI technologies has surged, enabling applications in areas like real-time geospatial data analysis, high-resolution satellite imaging, and autonomous decision-making for space vehicles. AI-guided systems now assist in planetary exploration, debris mitigation, and resource extraction, showcasing the transformative potential of intelligent systems in addressing the complexities of space activities.

Despite its promise, the deployment of AI in space necessitates a meticulous evaluation of its ethical implications. Issues of accountability, transparency, and responsibility loom large. The Montreal Declaration for a Responsible Development of Artificial Intelligence (MDAI) offers guiding principles for human-centered AI development, emphasizing accountability for decisions, responsible use, and safeguarding human well-being. Yet, these principles face challenges in their applicability to autonomous space objects, particularly those operating beyond direct human supervision.

The legal status of intelligent space objects further complicates matters. Existing international space treaties, such as the Outer Space Treaty (OST) of 1967 and the Liability Convention of 1972, were conceived in an era devoid of AI. They assign responsibility for space activities to states, irrespective of whether these activities are conducted by governmental or private entities. However, these treaties fail to account for the nuanced challenges posed by AI-driven entities, which operate with varying degrees of autonomy.

Autonomous space objects can be categorized based on human interaction: human-in-the-loop, human-on-the-loop, and human-out-of-the-loop. Each level presents distinct challenges in determining responsibility and liability for actions undertaken by these systems. Human-out-of-the-loop systems, in particular, challenge the conventional notion of accountability, as they operate independently of human input during mission-critical operations. This necessitates a reevaluation of the frameworks governing state responsibility and the extension of liability to encompass non-human actors.

The potential risks of deploying AI in outer space are exemplified by parallels in terrestrial technologies. The aviation industry’s reliance on AI, as seen in the Boeing 737 MAX’s Maneuvering Characteristics Augmentation System (MCAS), highlights the catastrophic consequences of insufficient oversight. In space, where the stakes are magnified by the hostile environment and high operational costs, the ramifications of an AI failure could be even more severe. These scenarios underscore the urgency of implementing stringent regulatory measures to ensure the safe deployment of AI in extraterrestrial contexts.

Another critical dimension is data protection. Satellite systems equipped with AI capabilities generate vast amounts of data, including personal and location information. The General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) provides a framework for safeguarding such data, but its terrestrial focus leaves gaps when applied to space-based systems. Concerns about data privacy, consent, and security are compounded by the unique challenges of space, where jurisdictional boundaries blur and the potential for misuse of sensitive information escalates.

The ethical dilemmas associated with AI in space are manifold. Discriminatory profiling, biases in algorithmic decision-making, and the potential loss of anonymity are pressing issues. Moreover, the lack of transparency in AI operations raises questions about the fairness and justice of decisions made by intelligent systems. The potential for unintended consequences, such as the amplification of existing inequalities or the marginalization of vulnerable populations, necessitates a proactive approach to ethical governance.

To address these challenges, the establishment of intelligent space objects as distinct legal entities has been proposed. Granting legal personality to AI-driven space systems would enable clearer attribution of responsibility and liability, while also fostering accountability. This approach draws parallels to corporate legal structures, wherein entities are recognized as separate from their founders. However, the feasibility of this model hinges on maintaining a balance between autonomy and human oversight, ensuring that ethical considerations remain paramount.

The intersection of AI and space law also demands the development of technical standards tailored to the unique requirements of extraterrestrial environments. The European Space Agency (ESA) and other international bodies have initiated efforts to standardize AI applications in space, focusing on cybersecurity, data integrity, and mission safety. These standards must evolve in tandem with technological advancements, addressing the complexities of AI integration into space operations.

National space policies play a pivotal role in shaping the governance of AI in outer space. By establishing clear regulatory frameworks, nations can mitigate the risks associated with autonomous systems while fostering innovation. These policies should incorporate ethical guidelines, data protection measures, and mechanisms for international collaboration. The democratization of space, driven by private sector participation and reduced costs of access, further underscores the need for cohesive and comprehensive governance structures.

The challenges posed by AI in outer space are emblematic of broader questions surrounding the regulation of emerging technologies. As AI systems become increasingly autonomous, the boundaries between human and machine decision-making blur, necessitating a reevaluation of legal and ethical paradigms. The development of adaptive legal frameworks that account for the dynamic nature of AI is essential to ensure that technological progress aligns with the principles of fairness, accountability, and human well-being.

In conclusion, the integration of AI into space exploration presents a dual-edged sword. While offering transformative potential, it also raises profound ethical, legal, and regulatory challenges. The proactive establishment of governance frameworks, informed by principles like those outlined in the MDAI, is essential to harness the benefits of AI while mitigating its risks. By addressing these issues through national and international collaboration, humanity can ensure that the exploration of outer space remains a collective endeavor that upholds the values of equity, responsibility, and sustainability.

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Subject of Research: The intersection of artificial intelligence and space law, focusing on the governance of autonomous space objects.

Article Title : Unveiling the Realm of AI Governance in Outer Space and Its Importance in National Space Policy

News Publication Date : January 6, 2025

Article Doi References : https://doi.org/10.1016/j.actaastro.2024.11.022

Image Credits : Not provided in the original text.

Keywords : Artificial intelligence, Machine learning, Space objects, Regulation, Outer space

As of 2021, the study estimates that 2.91 million children—or 4.2% of all children in the United States—had experienced the loss of a parent or caregiver in their lifetime. This figure represents a significant increase, with incidence rising by 49.5% and prevalence by 7.9% since 2000. Adolescents, non-Hispanic American Indian or Alaska Native children, and non-Hispanic Black children are disproportionately affected. These data underscore the racial and geographic inequities inherent in the broader public health landscape of the United States. For example, 6.4% of non-Hispanic American Indian or Alaska Native children and 4.7% of non-Hispanic Black children experienced these losses compared to 3.9% of non-Hispanic White children and 1.7% of non-Hispanic Asian children. Geographic disparities are also evident, with southern and eastern states showing higher prevalence rates, attributed in part to socioeconomic and healthcare inequities.

The intersection of the COVID-19 pandemic with the ongoing opioid crisis has dramatically exacerbated this issue. In 2021, drug overdose became the leading cause of orphanhood among non-Hispanic White children, a shift that signals the compounded toll of substance misuse and the pandemic. The prevalence of caregiver loss due to fatal injuries—encompassing overdose, suicide, homicide, and unintentional injuries—has now surpassed losses attributable to chronic diseases, such as cancer and heart disease. For example, drug overdose contributed to 17.4% of orphanhood incidence in 2021, despite accounting for only 3.1% of overall adult mortality. This disproportionate impact reveals the acute vulnerabilities faced by families affected by substance misuse.

Additionally, the study highlights the profound role of grandparent caregivers in American households. Approximately 9.1% of U.S. children live with a grandparent who provides some or all of their basic needs. The loss of such caregivers adds another layer to the crisis. In 2021 alone, 494,036 children experienced the death of a parent or grandparent caregiver. Among these, 6.6% lost a primary grandparent caregiver—those responsible for most of their needs in the absence of parents—while 11.7% lost a secondary grandparent caregiver, who provided housing but fewer essential needs. These losses are not merely statistical; they translate to devastating consequences for children’s mental health, financial stability, and overall well-being.

The societal ramifications of these losses extend beyond the immediate grieving families. Research identifies parental and caregiver death as a significant adverse childhood experience (ACE) linked to long-term risks, including mental health disorders, suicide, violence, and chronic diseases. Moreover, the economic burden on surviving families and the state’s social support systems is substantial. Children left without primary caregivers often require foster care, adoption services, or other forms of institutional support, highlighting the urgent need for systemic policy responses.

The study also underscores the need for robust interventions to mitigate these impacts. Effective policies must prioritize both prevention and resilience-building. For instance, during the COVID-19 pandemic, real-time estimates of caregiver loss informed U.S. policy, leading to financial and mental health support initiatives. International examples, such as Brazil and Mexico’s educational and financial programs, demonstrate the potential of comprehensive support systems. The WHO’s “INSPIRE” package and the “Prevent-Prepare-Protect” strategy provide actionable frameworks for addressing the consequences of caregiver loss. These strategies emphasize safe environments, income strengthening, legal protections, and accessible healthcare—all critical to ensuring affected children’s recovery and long-term well-being.

Another striking finding is the disparity in causes of orphanhood by race and ethnicity. While drug overdose is the leading cause of orphanhood among non-Hispanic White children, COVID-19 and chronic liver disease are more prominent among non-Hispanic American Indian or Alaska Native children. Heart disease and cancers dominate among non-Hispanic Black and Asian children. These variations highlight the need for tailored interventions that address specific community needs and disparities. For example, violence prevention programs targeting homicide-related deaths, or lifestyle interventions for chronic disease prevention, could significantly reduce these risks.

State-level analyses reveal further insights. West Virginia and New Mexico have the highest prevalence rates of orphanhood and caregiver loss, correlating with their high poverty levels. Meanwhile, populous states like California, Texas, and Florida show the highest absolute numbers of affected children. These geographic patterns demand localized responses, emphasizing the role of state and community-level initiatives.

Despite the alarming data, this study’s estimates may still understate the true burden of orphanhood and caregiver loss. Limitations in mortality data, such as underreporting or misclassification of deaths, particularly for stigmatized causes like overdose or suicide, could result in underestimation. Additionally, the lack of data on undocumented families and multi-racial groups further constrains the scope of this analysis. Nevertheless, the findings present a critical call to action for policymakers, healthcare providers, and community leaders.

Addressing this crisis requires a coordinated national strategy that prioritizes equity and inclusivity. By investing in comprehensive support systems and addressing the root causes of caregiver mortality, the United States can begin to alleviate the profound impact of these losses on its youngest and most vulnerable citizens. The scale of this issue demands an urgent, evidence-based response, making the findings of this study an essential resource for guiding future public health and social policies.

Subject of Research: Child well-being and caregiver loss due to mortality in the United States.

Article Title: Orphanhood and caregiver death among children in the United States by all-cause mortality, 2000–2021.

News Publication Date: January 10, 2025.

Article Doi References: 10.1038/s41591-025-XXXXX.

Keywords: Orphanhood, caregiver death, public health, child well-being, COVID-19, opioid crisis, racial disparities, United States.

The study found that around one-third of researchers stop publishing within five years of their first paper, and nearly half have left science by the ten-year mark. This large-scale analysis, led by Marek Kwiek from Adam Mickiewicz University in Poland, sheds light on a global trend that, until now, had been poorly quantified. “We’ve long known that scientists leave academia, but this study shows just how widespread the issue is,” Kwiek said.

Joya Misra, a sociologist from the University of Massachusetts Amherst who focuses on academic inequality, stressed that the findings are a wake-up call. “This study gives us concrete numbers that make it clear there’s a serious retention problem in science,” she explained.

The research followed two distinct groups of scientists: those who began their publishing careers in 2000 and those who started in 2010. In the 2000 cohort, one-third of scientists had already stopped publishing within five years, and by 2019, only about 34% of men and 29% of women were still publishing. The 2010 group showed a slight improvement, with around 42% of both men and women still actively publishing after nine years, suggesting some progress in retaining researchers.

However, significant disparities remain, particularly between genders and across disciplines. Women were generally more likely to exit the research field than men, especially in life sciences. In biology, for instance, 58% of women had left science within ten years, compared to 49% of men. On the other hand, in fields such as physics, engineering, and computer science—where women are often underrepresented—there was little difference between the dropout rates of men and women.

Misra pointed out that these figures may not fully reflect the gender gap in science. “There’s still a bias in how contributions are credited, and women’s roles in collaborative projects might be underrecognized,” she noted. The study doesn’t address why so many scientists leave academia, but potential reasons include a shift toward non-research roles, industry jobs, or administrative positions, as well as personal factors like family commitments and salary concerns.

Previous research by Damani White-Lewis, an expert in academic careers at the University of Pennsylvania, found that family obligations, tenure pressures, and salary dissatisfaction were major reasons why U.S. faculty members left academia. He welcomed the study’s findings but emphasized that more detailed research is needed to understand the motivations behind these departures. “Knowing where the gaps are is the first step toward fixing them,” White-Lewis said.

Kwiek plans to follow up with large-scale surveys and AI-driven interviews to dig deeper into the reasons behind this scientific exodus. Both Misra and White-Lewis agree that understanding why researchers leave is key to developing strategies to retain talent in academia. As White-Lewis put it, “If we want to keep people in science, we need to understand why they’re leaving.”

References:

Kwiek, M., & Misra, J. (2024). Why nearly half of scientists leave academia by their tenth year. Nature. https://doi.org/10.1038/d41586-024-03222-7

The QEESI can identify individuals at increased risk. Environmental counseling, such as personalized environmental house calls to assess risks at home, may reduce personal exposures to possible triggers such as pesticides, fragrances and tobacco smoke, particularly during pregnancy and childhood. The global rise in autism and ADHD may be due to fossil-fuel-derived and biogenic toxicants epigenetically “turning on” or “turning off” critical mast cell genes that can be transmitted trans-generationally.

The researchers conclude that once mast cells are sensitized, diverse xenobiotics that never bothered the person previously and do not bother most people trigger multisystem symptoms that wax and wane over time. And they believe that persistent activation and triggering of mast cells may underlie the brain inflammation in autism. “The potential role of environmental toxicants in influencing epigenetics and mast cell function is a complex and emerging area of research,” they wrote. “Acknowledging the need for further evidence, we hope this study contributes to an improved understanding of the potential role of environmental factors in the global rise of autism and ADHD.” The authors created tools for patients, practitioners and researchers, described in their “TILT Tutorial on Chemical Intolerance, Autism, and ADHD”, available along with other resources at https://TILTresearch.org.   Assessing Chemical Intolerance in Parents Predicts the Risk of Autism and ADHD in Their Children Raymond F. Palmer, Rodolfo Rincon, David Kattari, Claudia S. Miller First published: March 1, 2024, Journal of Xenobiotics https://www.mdpi.com/2039-4713/14/1/22     The University of Texas Health Science Center at San Antonio (UT Health San Antonio), a primary driver of San Antonio’s $44.1 billion health care and biosciences sector, is the largest academic research institution in South Texas with an annual research portfolio of $413 million. Driving substantial economic impact with its six professional schools, a diverse workforce of more than 8,500, an annual expense budget of $1.46 billion and clinical practices that provide 2.6 million patient visits each year, UT Health San Antonio plans to add more than 1,500 higher-wage jobs over the next five years to serve San Antonio, Bexar County and South Texas. To learn about the many ways “We make lives better®,” visit UTHealthSA.org. Stay connected with The University of Texas Health Science Center at San Antonio on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Instagram and YouTube.

Journal

Journal of Xenobiotics

DOI

10.3390/jox14010022

Method of Research

Observational study

Article Title

Assessing Chemical Intolerance in Parents Predicts the Risk of Autism and ADHD in Their Children

Article Publication Date

1-Mar-2024

“Bone is a dynamic tissue that responds to external stimuli, so changes in bone structure provide great clues about where and how a person lived and died,” Smith-Guzmán said. “When I looked at an additional 125 skulls from nine burial sites across Panama, I found seven cases of surfers’ ear in males and one in a female skull, all from sites near the Gulf of Panama.”

No one really understands exactly how the bony growths, technically called exostoses, form. But the skin is thin in the ear canal and the accepted theory is that cold water or cold temperatures caused by wind and water make the bone react by growing extra layers, similar to the way bone spurs form on the feet and in other places where there is constant irritation or stress. Almost half of the members of a swimming club in England had surfer’s ear according to a report cited in the study.

Unlike most tropical countries where seawater is warm, water temperature in the Gulf of Panama plummets between January and April when strong trade winds from the north force warm surface water out into the Pacific and colder, deep water rises to the surface to replace it. This deep, nutrient-rich water feeds tiny sea organisms, which in turn are eaten by fish and whales. The Gulf becomes an extraordinarily productive fishing ground supporting a thriving fishing industry and attracting dolphins, sharks and other top-of-the-food-chain animals.

Years ago, when co-author Richard Cooke, zooarchaeologist at STRI, unearthed a male skeleton with surfer’s ear in Sitio Sierra, near Aguadulce in Panama, he was a STRI post-doctoral student with only rudimentary knowledge of physical anthropology. But he collected all of the human remains he found, enabling Nicole-Smith Guzmán to reexamine them 43 years later.

Cooke spent much of his career studying ancient fishing practices. He found that Panama’s pre-Columbian peoples fished from boats all along both the Pacific and Caribbean coasts of Panama. If fishing alone put people at higher risk for surfer’s ear, then more cases of the bony growth would be present at all of the sites, but all of the examples came from areas near the Gulf.

“We think it more likely that diving in the cold waters of the Gulf caused these cases of surfer’s ear,” Smith-Guzmán said. “Silvery mother-of-pearl ornaments, and orange and purple ones from two large ‘thorny’ oysters in the Spondylus genus were common in burials and comprised an important trade item in the region. Some of these shells wash up on beaches, but by the time Vasco Nuñez de Balboa and other Spanish explorers arrived, their chronicles tell us that expert divers were trained from childhood to dive down to four fathoms to retrieve pearl oysters of desirable large size.”

The Spanish encouraged this industry and for many years, Panama was known for its pirates and pearls, including La Peregrina, the largest pearl known at the time it was found.

The team also ruled out fungal or bacterial ear infections common in the tropics that sometimes cause bone deformations: most of the skulls affected were from males, and infections should occur in both male and females at about the same rate. From the evidence they have so far, it looks like mostly males were involved in whatever activity caused surfer’s ear in Panama. In another study, archaeologists in the Canary Islands found roughly equal numbers of cases of surfer’s ear in ancient male and female skulls, suggesting that aquatic activities there were not restricted to one gender.

“I spoke to one ear, nose and throat specialist in Panama and she has never seen a case of surfer’s ear here, but we want to do a follow-up study in which we look at skulls from a much wider area and also do a survey of doctors in Panama to find out if surfers or divers ever show up with surfer’s ear these days,” Smith-Guzmán said.

Surfer’s ear is an intriguing subject that archaeologists, anthropologists and medical doctors have explored for more than a century. Although the exact causes of this phenomenon is still debated, these bony growths offer important clues into the cultural activities, gendered division of labor and environmental conditions in the past.

Surfer’s ear points to ancient pearl divers in Panama
Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute

Journal
American Journal of Physical Anthropology
Funder
Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute
DOI
10.1002/ajpa.23757