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A Guardian article, looking at how rap music has changed the way young people throughout the UK use language. 

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A Guardian article, looking at how rap music has changed the way young people throughout the UK use language. 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE To start: What effect does popular culture have on the way we speak? Can you think of any examples of language forms, or turns of phrases, that you have borrowed from music, literature, film, or other art forms? From the source: What are the different cultural origins of Multicultural London English (MLE)? How and why is this being exported via music - and what role is social media playing in this process? What sums up the appeal of MLE, and why is it aligned more to young men than women? To wrap up: “It’s like a tide. You’ve got a big wave coming in, and that dies down, but the tide is still moving in that direction.” (Rob Drummond, socio-linguist). How does this describe the way language evolves over time? Hint - use the word ‘standardised’ in your response.

KEY TERMS Multicultural London English, Vernaculars, Cultural orientation, Edginess and rebelliousness, Covert prestige, Standardised

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here's a video format spreading on TikTok. Recorded in towns across suburban England, teenage interviewers stop their peers on the street, fielding questions that range from fashion choices to humorous hypotheticals and local neighbourhood dramas, in the process building a large social media following and showcasing their patch of land to the world. "950 [pounds] for that, you know my ting," a teenage white boy says about his Canada Goose jacket in a video recorded in Bury St Edmunds. "We're checking his drip, ya dun know, you heard my man," someone says in another video.

Both the hosts and many of the interviewees speak with this distinct drawl - Multicultural London English (MLE), a dialect born in London's African-Caribbean communities in the 1970s and 80s. (Some now argue that "Black British English" is a more fitting term.) It's rooted in Jamaican patois with influences from cockney, and more recently Arabic, the US and West African Pidgin English.

A primary cause of this spread - which goes beyond viral TikToks - is British rap, with drill, grime and more taking new linguistic styles to the far corners of the country. In some cases, the entire cultural spread of MLE is contained in a single song. "I'm giving them UK slang / My brudda, my fam, my akh / You say: 'The feds just done a sweep' / We say, 'The boy dem run in my gaff'," Central Cee rapped in a 2022 freestyle, nodding to patois, cockney and Arabic respectively - akh is an Arabic word that has fed into MLE from the British Somali community, who are among both the largest Muslim and Black communities in Britain. Elsewhere, west African slang and dialects have continued to creep into British rap. Drizzled on to songs by the likes of Skepta, J Hus and NSG, terms such as wahala (trouble), "let me land" (let me finish) and juju (ancient African spiritual belief systems) are a reflection of how African communities are carving themselves deeply into British soil.

"You have quite a long history of British vernaculars being exported through British cultural forms," says Christian Ilbury, a lecturer in sociolinguistics at the University of Edinburgh - from Scouse accents with the Beatles to Arctic Monkeys and the presence of industrial working-class accents in indie music. "Grime essentially became the vehicle in which we perceived MLE." Those kids in suburban England, he says, "don't speak this variety because of where they grew up. They're using it to align with a cultural orientation that they appreciate."

In recent years, the audience for UK rap has broadened, flowing out of inner cities. Key to its spread was the internet, which tore down the music industry's traditional barriers to access and spread this new way of speaking. "Social media has played a huge role," says Rob Drummond, professor of sociolinguistics at Manchester Metropolitan University. "Everybody can access everything, so it's going to spread faster. Young people are maintaining communication all the time through Snapchat and WhatsApp. It makes it much more immersive and immediate."

Ilbury agrees: "With social media, you get representations of MLE that transcend geographical boundaries."

Also key is the particular appeal of Black pop culture, as defined by US writer and activist Kevin Powell in a September 2000 interview with Time: "You cannot discuss Black music without taking into account its edginess ... its rebelliousness ... and the fact that edginess and rebelliousness ultimately appeals to white young people as much as it does to Black young people."

That dynamic took root in Britain in the 1970s, when various forms of reggae - also subversive and at times perceived as anti-establishment - became distinctly British iterations of a Black coolness that appealed to younger white audiences.

In the early 70s, slang in wider London revolved heavily around "East End, white working-class slang, with some Yiddish and with some [Romany-derived queer slang] Polari," says Tony Thorne, director of the Slang and New Language Archive at King's College London. Things began to shift in the middle of the decade, he says, when "a lot of younger white kids got into reggae and later into dancehall and dub," and started to "pick up slang that wasn't from the old varieties". They were leaning into the patois present in the music, and subsequently in MLE, with phrases like "yard' (house) and "babylon" (establishment or police).

They were leaning into the patois present in the music, and subsequently in MLE. "Jamaican culture in London," says Thorne, was perceived as "super cool. The mods loved it, then later skinheads and punks loved it." He remembers the music spreading into London's whiter suburbs, but not reaching further because the genres "weren't really global at all, they were still local" - and there was no internet to spread them onward.

Now, with digitally distributed British rap speaking to an expanded audience, this dynamic has started to play out nationally. When grime erupted in 2014, it arrived with a distinct sense of fashion and language - words like "bait", "gassed" and "ends", as well as distinct attire consisting of tracksuits and streetwear. It was more than just a genre: it was a culture. "And how do you express your alignment with grime music?" says Ilbury. "You start speaking in a way that sounds like MLE." Since then, drill and a new generation of UK rappers have arrived with a similar impact: words such as ting and certi (certified) ever-present in the sound, alongside streetwear brands including Trapstar, Hoodrich and Corteiz. Ronan Bennett's TV drama series Top Boy has also become enormously popular.

Many of the most high-profile British rappers of recent times have been men, so MLE "is often heard as extremely masculine" by wider Britain, Ilbury notes, and therefore, "often associated with young men". As a result, the dialect seems to have resonated more strongly with teenage boys in the suburbs. Drummond says that the music, and therefore the language associated with it, carries for young men in these regions, "what we might in linguistics call a 'covert prestige'".

In Drummond's field studies in Manchester, he noticed that the dialect was more likely to be used by boys, with girls maintaining their more regional ways of communicating. "Using particular ways of speaking for these young people, especially young men, is a way of performing an identity," he says. "But unfortunately, it comes with a whole load of baggage that maybe they're not quite ready for."

These developments come with questions of cultural appropriation. They also highlight the racially loaded demonisation of MLE as a language associated with "roadmen", where in increasingly popular TikTok and Instagram skits, "roadman" has become a byword for low intelligence and stupidity.

Linguists note that many of these young white men from middle England are likely to drop MLE when they move into more professional environments. But MLE's current popularity will likely leave a permanent mark, with the dialect already becoming a standardised part of white British speech. "Even when they dial it down because they get a nice responsible job in a bank, there's still a fundamental change," Drummond says. "It's like a tide. You've got a big wave coming in, and that dies down, but the tide is still moving in that direction."

Aniefiok Ekpoudom is a writer from south London. His first book, Where We Come From: Rap, Home & Hope in Modern Britain, is a social history of British rap. To support theGuardian and Observer order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.

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Bait, ting, certi: how UK rap changed the language of the nation

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Fuelled by music fandom and social media, young British people's slang is evolving to include words with pidgin, patois and Arabic roots - even where strong regional English dialects exist

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A Conversation article, which looks at the link between an identity crisis and the use of language for Latino immigrant communities. 

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A Conversation article, which looks at the link between an identity crisis and the use of language for Latino immigrant communities. 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE Why are heritage languages lost, and why is the reason more complex than simply a “lack of motivation or children rejecting their roots”? In what way is language a ‘gatekeeper’ of identity, and what are the implications of this for those who struggle to speak their heritage language? Why is it a mistake to compare the way children of immigrants speak to those brought up in a monolingual environment, and what are the consequences of doing so? To wrap up: How does it help us to understand people’s identities by appreciating that “language always evolves, and culture is always changing”?

KEY TERMS Power and politics of language, Heritage speakers, Multilingual society, Culture, Discrimination, Diaspora

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A young Latina mother I was interviewing once laughed uncomfortably as she described her sons' embarrassment when put on the spot by older Latinos.

They would speak to her sons in Spanish, before quickly adding in the same language, "How awful! You don't understand me in Spanish?" Her sons would then sheepishly reply - in Spanish - "Yes, I understand. But I don't speak it."

Despite our different backgrounds, her story hit close to home.

I grew up in Arizona as the child of Chinese immigrants, learning to navigate the language and cultural currents that surrounded me inside and outside of the home. Reclaiming my Chinese language and understanding its role in my life has been a lifelong journey. At the same time, I was also immersed in the bilingualism of the U.S.-Mexico border, where Spanish and English are both used but the power and politics of language always linger in the background.

I've also witnessed these dynamics in my extended family, where my husband's Latin American roots bring with them the expectation of Spanish fluency. While he is fluent, many children of Latino immigrants are not.

I've studied these issues for many years as a linguist, and I'm currently exploring them in my current book project on how language helps shape Latino identity in Washington, D.C.

What I've learned upends assumptions that heritage languages are "lost" from one generation to the next because of a simple lack of motivation or children rejecting their roots. My research paints a more complex picture that delves into how we understand - or misunderstand - the bilingualism of heritage speakers.

Assimilation nation

Heritage speakers are people who, although they may have learned their parents' native language at home, no longer speak it in the same way as a traditional native speaker because of growing up in a bilingual environment.

Their language abilities are often misunderstood both within their cultural communities and by outsiders. That's what happened with Celia's sons: Other community members assumed they couldn't speak Spanish, even though they could understand and respond in the language.

Heritage speakers face a unique set of circumstances. The U.S. has a long history as a multilingual society, and an equally long history of oppressing minority groups and their languages and cultures.

Many U.S. families descended from Europe lost their heritage languages because of pressures to assimilate. Policies promoting English as part of broader "Americanization" efforts were enacted through school policies and legislation in the late 19th century and early 20th century. Most heritage languages in the U.S., such as German and Polish, were no longer spoken in families after three generations.

Meanwhile, Native American groups are still fighting to revitalize languages weakened by targeted cultural eradication. Within living memory, Latinos were punished for speaking Spanish at school. I will never forget when a middle-aged Latina in my bilingual education class shared her humiliation and fear when her kindergarten teacher physically punished her for speaking Spanish - the language of her home and her family, and the only language she spoke at that time. Decades later, the memory was still raw.

Heritage speakers still face discrimination in school, and examples of linguistic prejudice - people being attacked for speaking languages other than English - are rampant on the internet.

Straddling two worlds

Under these circumstances, support for heritage languages in the home and within the community is key. Speaking Spanish is certainly an important value for many Latino parents. But they can be quick to criticize their children's Spanish acumen, which can inadvertently undermine these efforts.

In my research, I discovered that elders' negative judgments of the Spanish abilities of younger Latinos created insecurity and language avoidance. Youth were held to unrealistic standards that did not reflect their bilingual realities. When younger Latinos code-switched, understood more than they could say, had a non-native accent in Spanish or spoke English among themselves, older community members often saw this as evidence that they didn't really speak Spanish.

In reality, these are normal behaviors for the children of immigrants all over the world. But parents' comparison of their children to monolingual norms - the speech of native speakers who speak only one language - meant that they often inadvertently disparaged their kids' bilingualism instead of celebrating it.

The relationship between language and identity is intensely personal. Since language is intimately linked to identity, it is often used as a gatekeeper, with young Latinos being shamed for being "Americanized" or seen as rejecting the home culture.

Jeffrey Greenberg/Universal Images Group via Getty Images

Many of the children and grandchildren of immigrants whom I spoke with told me they felt insecure about their ability to speak Spanish. Even if they were quite fluent, they felt that it was never good enough. As one U.S.-born Latino commented, "I speak Spanish, you know, people down the street can hear me and be like, 'This guy's a gringo.'"

Criticizing the way they speak, even with good intentions, can cause them to question their identity and feel insecure, discouraging them from speaking Spanish - the exact opposite of the desired result.

Never enough

While their Spanish comes under attack, Latinos also weather doubts and assumptions about their English. Even Latinos who speak only English get stereotyped as not speaking it based on their ethnicity. People often mistakenly assume that Latino English - a native dialect - is "broken" English, or criticize it as "nonstandard" due to its historic Spanish influence.

Latino English can also experience another layer of prejudice since it is often influenced by African American language, as I found while researching how Latino children acquire their peers' African American English as a second language.

The heritage-speaker dilemma encapsulates some of the contradictions that Latino youth must navigate: Their parents see them as not Latino enough, while many others view them as not American enough. This dynamic can make them doubt themselves and give others ammunition to question their identities.

These beliefs are so entrenched that even powerful Latinos cannot escape them. U.S. Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez's bilingualism is constantly under scrutiny. She has been mocked for pronouncing her name in Spanish, as if the English pronunciation were more correct. She's also been accused of faking her accent.

Criticism of heritage speakers lies in the mistaken belief that there is only one "pure" way to speak a language and that this lines up neatly with culture and identity. But language always evolves, and culture is always changing. Fluid forms, such as Spanglish, play an important role in identity for many young Latinos.

Increasingly, heritage speakers are sharing their experiences and realizing that wherever they are in their language journeys, it's good enough.

Their language and culture is not "less than" or inauthentic - just different. It's based on the experience of growing up in a diaspora. Ultimately, many people can identify with their experiences, regardless of their different backgrounds. Learning how to integrate different aspects of yourself into a whole while not losing your roots is a quintessentially American - and, ultimately, human - experience.

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Language induces an identity crisis for the children and grandchildren of Latino immigrants

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Young Latinos in the US often navigate a contradictory landscape: Their parents see them as not Latino enough, while teachers and peers view them as not American enough.

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An EU Reporter article, examining the effects of social media on our identity. 

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An EU Reporter article, examining the effects of social media on our identity. 

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Artificial Intelligence (AI) has rapidly evolved in recent years, fundamentally transforming various aspects of our lives. One of the profound and often overlooked consequences of this transformation is its impact on human identity. As AI becomes more integrated into our daily routines, work, and social interactions, it shapes and challenges our understanding of who we are. In this article, we will explore the multifaceted effect of AI on identity, discussing both the positive and negative aspects of this technological revolution, writes Colin Stevens. Redefining work and professional identity
AI has disrupted traditional career paths and job roles. Automation and machine learning have led to the displacement of certain tasks, creating new opportunities and challenges. This shift has required individuals to adapt and often redefine their professional identities. Many jobs have evolved to incorporate AI, with employees now working alongside intelligent machines. This has led to a fusion of human and machine identities, requiring people to develop new skills and a more flexible sense of professional self.
Personal identity in the age of data
Our personal lives have become deeply entwined with AI through the data we generate and share. Social media platforms, smart devices, and online services constantly collect data about our behavior and preferences. AI algorithms use this data to customize content and make recommendations. As a result, our online identities, shaped by algorithms, can sometimes feel disconnected from our authentic selves. This has raised concerns about privacy and the accuracy of our digital personas, which may not fully represent who we are.
Ethical and moral challenges
AI systems are often designed to make ethical decisions, such as in self-driving cars or healthcare diagnostics. However, these systems rely on algorithms and data, and their decisions may not always align with human values and morals. The challenge of determining how AI should make ethical decisions has led to philosophical debates about the essence of morality and the role of AI in shaping our ethical identity.

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Personal assistants and social identity
Voice-activated personal assistants like Siri and Alexa are becoming more integrated into our daily lives. These AI entities are designed to be relatable and human-like, which can lead to emotional connections and even a sense of companionship. As people form social bonds with AI, it raises questions about the boundaries of social identity. Can a machine truly be considered a friend or confidant, and if so, how does this affect our self-perception and social identity?
Biometric identification and security
AI has played a pivotal role in biometric identification systems, such as facial recognition and fingerprint scanning. These technologies have become prevalent in security and authentication. While they enhance security, they also introduce concerns about identity theft and personal data security. As AI increasingly recognizes us by our unique physical traits, it forces us to confront questions about the nature of identity tied to our biometrics.
The amplification of echo chambers
AI algorithms, especially in social media and content recommendation, tend to reinforce existing beliefs and preferences, creating echo chambers that isolate individuals within their own ideological bubbles. This phenomenon can shape and solidify one's identity, making it more resistant to external perspectives and diverse viewpoints. As a result, the effect of AI on identity can lead to polarization and a less open-minded society.

The effect of AI on identity is complex and multifaceted. It redefines our professional and personal selves, challenges our ethical and moral identities, influences our social connections, and raises questions about the security of our personal data. As AI continues to advance, it's essential for individuals and society as a whole to navigate these changes with a deep understanding of the implications. While AI offers numerous benefits and conveniences, it also comes with important ethical and philosophical considerations that require ongoing discussion and regulation to ensure that AI technology aligns with human values and the preservation of our individual and collective identities.
The author Colin Stevens founded EU Reporter in 2008. He has more than 30 years of experience as a TV producer, journalist and news editor. He is a past president of the Press Club Brussels (2020-2022) and was awarded an Honorary Doctor of Letters at Zerah Business School (Malta and Luxembourg) for leadership in European journalism.
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The effect of AI on identity - EU Reporter

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Artificial Intelligence (AI) has rapidly evolved in recent years, fundamentally transforming various aspects of our lives. One of the profound and often overlooked consequences of this transformation is its impact on human identity. As AI becomes more integrated into our daily routines, work, and social interactions, it shapes and challenges our understanding of who we [...]

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A TED talk featuring Anil Ananthaswamy, in which he explores where our sense of self comes from. 

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A TED talk featuring Anil Ananthaswamy, in which he explores where our sense of self comes from. 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE What question has Ananthaswamy set out to answer? Then ask students to find out what the following examples of ‘altered selves’ indicate about the way we understand our selves: Alzheimers, Xenomelia, Schizophrenia, Out-of-body-experiences. What are Ananthaswamy’s thoughts on the self’s reality outside our brains and bodies, and how does this relate to ‘our stories’? Overall, ask students how viewing ‘altered states’ as being ‘different ways of being’ rather than ‘deficits’ helps us to understand the nature of the self more completely.

Key terms Altered selves, Narrative self, Perspective of the self, Sense of agency, Undeniable truths, Stories

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Anil Ananthaswamy: Where does your sense of self come from? A scientific look

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Our memories and bodies give us clues about who we are, but what happens when this guidance shifts? In this mind-bending talk, science writer Anil Ananthaswamy shares how the experiences of “altered selves” -- resulting from schizophrenia, Alzheimer’s, foreign limb syndrome or other conditions -- shed light on the constructed nature of identity. He breaks down where our sense of self comes from and invites us to challenge our assumptions about who we are, with the aim of building a better you and a better world.

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A Conversation article, which asserts that your ‘mental dictionary’ is what makes you unique. 

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A Conversation article, which asserts that your ‘mental dictionary’ is what makes you unique. 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE How does the way we customize our mental dictionaries make us unique?

KEY TERMS Mental dictionary, Shared knowledge vs. individual experiences, Tip-of-the-tongue experiences, Unique

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Your brain processes letters, words, sounds, semantics and grammar at breakneck speed. StudioM1/iStock via Getty Images Plus

The days of having a dictionary on your bookshelf are numbered. But that's OK, because everyone already walks around with a dictionary - not the one on your phone, but the one in your head.

Just like a physical dictionary, your mental dictionary contains information about words. This includes the letters, sounds and meaning, or semantics, of words, as well as information about parts of speech and how you can fit words together to form grammatical sentences. Your mental dictionary is also like a thesaurus. It can help you connect words and see how they might be similar in meaning, sound or spelling.

As a researcher who studies word retrieval, or how you quickly and accurately pull words out of your memory to communicate, I'm intrigued by how words are organized in our mental dictionaries. Everyone's mental dictionary is a little bit different. And I'm even more intrigued by how we can restore the content of our mental dictionaries or improve our use of them, particularly for those who have language disorders.

Language is part of what makes humans special, and I believe everyone deserves the chance to use their words with others.

Your mental dictionary

While a physical dictionary is helpful for shared knowledge, your personal mental dictionary is customized based on your individual experiences. What words are in my mental dictionary might overlap with the mental dictionary of someone else who also speaks the same language, but there will also be a lot of differences between the content of our dictionaries.

You add words to your mental dictionary through your educational, occupational, cultural and other life experiences. This customization also means that the size of mental dictionaries is a little bit different from person to person and varies by age. Researchers found that the average 20-year-old American English speaker knows about 42,000 unique words, and this number grows to about 48,000 by age 60. Some people will have even larger vocabularies.

By now, you might be envisioning your mental dictionary as a book with pages of words in alphabetical order you can flip through as needed. While this visual analogy is helpful, there is a lot of debate about how mental dictionaries are organized. Many scholars agree that it's probably not like an alphabetized book.

One widely rejected theory, the grandmother cell theory, suggests that each concept is encoded by a single neuron. This implies that you would have a neuron for every word that you know, including "grandmother."

While not accepted as accurate, the aspect of the grandmother cell theory suggesting that certain parts of the brain are more important for some types of information than others is likely true. For example, the left temporal lobe on the side of your brain has many regions that are important for language processing, including word retrieval and production. Rather than a single neuron responsible for processing a concept, a model called parallel distributed processing proposes that large networks of neurons across the brain work together to bring about word knowledge when they fire together.

For example, when I say the word "dog," there are lots of different aspects of the word that your brain is retrieving, even if unconsciously. You might be thinking about what a dog smells like after being out in the rain, what a dog sounds like when it barks, or what a dog feels like when you pet it. You might be thinking about a specific dog you grew up with, or you might have a variety of emotions about dogs based on your past experiences with them. All of these different features of "dog" are processed in slightly different parts of your brain.

Using your mental dictionary

One reason why your mental dictionary can't be like a physical dictionary is that it is dynamic and quickly accessed.

Your brain's ability to retrieve a word is very fast. In one study, researchers mapped the time course of word retrieval among 24 college students by recording their brain activity while they named pictures. They found evidence that participants selected words within 200 milliseconds of seeing the image. After word selection, their brain continued to process information about that word, like what sounds are needed to say that chosen word and ignoring related words. This is why you can retrieve words with such speed in real-time conversations, often so quickly that you give little conscious attention to that process.

Until ... you have a breakdown in word retrieval. One common failure in word retrieval is called the tip-of-the-tongue phenomenon. It's the feeling when you know what word you want to use but are unable to find it in that moment. You might even know specific details about the word you want, like other words with similar meaning or maybe the first letter or sound of that word. With enough time, the word you wanted might pop into your mind.

These tip-of-the-tongue experiences are a normal part of human language experience across the life span, and they increase as you grow older. One proposed reason for this increase is that they're due to an age-related disruption in the ability to turn on the right sounds needed to say the selected word.

For some people, though, tip-of-the-tongue experiences and other speech errors can be quite impairing. This is commonly seen in aphasia, a language disorder that often occurs after injury to the language centers of the brain, such as stroke, or neurodegeneration, such as dementia. People with aphasia often have difficulty with word retrieval.

Fortunately, there are treatments available that can help someone improve their word retrieval abilities. For example, semantic feature analysis focuses on strengthening the semantic relationships between words. There are also treatments like phonomotor treatment that focus on strengthening the selection and production of speech sounds needed for word production. There are even apps that remotely provide word retrieval therapy on phones or computers.

The next time you have a conversation with someone, take a moment to reflect on why you chose the specific words you did. Remember that the words you use and the mental dictionary you have are part of what make you and your voice unique.

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Your mental dictionary is part of what makes you unique − here's how your brain stores and retrieves words

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Most people can draw from tens of thousands of words in their memory within milliseconds. Studying this process can improve language disorder treatment and appreciation of the gift of communication.

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A Big Think article, analyzing how our sense of self is defined by mirrors and video calls, and why this undermines our self-awareness. 

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A Big Think article, analyzing how our sense of self is defined by mirrors and video calls, and why this undermines our self-awareness. 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE Focus on the ideas half-way down the article (“Mirror, mirror on the wall…”) To what extent does our sense of self depend on mirrors? How should we look at ourselves, according to psychologist Tara Well, and why? Why are we often unhappy with images of ourselves, when other people think they are flattering? Overall, what are the implications of seeing ourselves in an inverted way in terms of the way we develop our self-awareness?

Key terms Sense of self, Superstition, Introspection, “True” representation, Misinterpret

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Though we use mirrors to see ourselves clearly, their history is filled with mystery and marvel - as though we are gazing through a "glass darkly," so to speak. Though we take mirrors for granted, it may be no exaggeration to claim that the humble mirror could be the single biggest technological invention that forever altered our sense of self.

Catoptromancy

Historians cannot know for certain when humans became enchanted with their own reflection, though the ancient Greek myth of Narcissus would suggest that we have gazed upon ourselves for quite some time. Indeed, as early as 6200 BCE at Çatal Hüyük in Turkey, weapon-savvy Stone Age people were crafting their first man-made mirrors by polishing obsidian, a volcanic rock. Women from the farming town were buried with these small mirrors in hand, according to records from the discovery in the 1960s at an archaeological site.

Similar artifacts have been traced to El-Badari in Egypt, dating back to 4500 BCE, made of selenite, a whitish crystal, and framed with wood. Then came metal mirrors, during the Copper Age, as skilled craftspeople in Mesopotamia forged ores into reflective surfaces, starting in 4000 BCE. The Etruscans and Greeks followed suit, refining their mirrors from thin disks of thoroughly polished, convex bronze.

Since then, these makeshift looking glasses quickly became objects of wonder for something well beyond what could already be seen with the eyes. Atop of gazing at oneself, mirrors were soon shrouded with a veil of mystery and magic, because they were hard to make sense of - and humans like to fill those gaps in knowledge with stories of the wonderful.

All over the world, independently, examples of societies doing catoptromancy - the psychic art of divination through mirrors - began to emerge. (When the evil witch from Snow White asked her mirror for answers about her future and destiny, infamously uttering the words, "Mirror, mirror on the wall," she was practicing catoptromancy.) Mirrors soon became ceremonial objects as well as portals into the paranormal and mediums for seeking help from the gods. Generations of superstition led people to believe that mirrors could make your wishes come true, or steal your soul.

Glass mirrors

It took a while to discover that mirrors could be made of glass too, and glass mirrors provide a much more faithful reflection than a shiny piece of rock. On the island of Murano, Italy, Venetian artisans of the 13th century shaped gorgeous, gleaming, glass mirrors, giving all of Europe something to envy. Since then, around the time of the Renaissance, mirrors took on the more familiar role that we know today.

The mirror became the ultimate physical tool for introspection and learning about oneself, including one's role in society, because it allows a person to scrutinize their own face, with its expressions, shapes, and character signs, according to Sabine Melchior-Bonnet, historian and author of The Mirror: A History. She tells Big Think that, while digging through old inventories for her research, she noticed that mirrors were particularly popular with the middle class because it allowed them to mimic the upper classes in both appearance and demeanor. However, the upper class had little use for mirrors, because their noble origin was enough for them to know "I am who I am!" Melchior-Bonnet says.

From there, knowing oneself became a crucial theme of the Renaissance and the times to come, and the mirror became a tool to do so. But, according to Melchior-Bonnet, the psychological fallout of this phenomenon has been difficult to pin down.

Mirror, mirror on the wall: Who am I?

Humans, already at the age of two, are able to recognize themselves in a mirror, perhaps a crucial moment in a person's development of a sense of self. But how much of our sense of self would be changed if we hadn't ever seen a truthful reflection of ourselves? That is a question that philosophers, both ancient and contemporary, have pondered, Mark Pendergrast, author of Mirror Mirror: A History of the Human Love Affair With Reflection tells Big Think.

Obviously, blind people don't need a mirror to have a sense of self, and neither did ancient or Indigenous peoples who lacked the technology. But surely, being able to look at oneself in the mirror has some sort of psychological impact, says Pendergrast. How much impact, though, is hard to know, because it is difficult to separate the mirror from the self.

"A lot of the Shuar kids that I work with, they were fascinated with their own reflection," Dorsa Amir, a UC-Berkeley evolutionary anthropologist, tells Big Think. "They just really wanted to see what they looked like, because it was such a novelty, and it's hard for us to simulate what that actually feels like." Amir recounts that when she first went to do field work with indigenous tribes and she didn't bring a mirror, not seeing her reflection for weeks at a time led to a feeling of disconnection from herself.

"There are a lot of these basic instincts and urges that have always existed. Like wondering how other people perceive you. That's just like a fundamental human thought, right?" Amir says.

Amir notes that with the advent of video meetings, a lot of users look at themselves when they speak on a call. Yet, prior to now, it would have been very strange to know exactly what you looked like while talking to somebody else. Surely, this has led to changes in our behavior during meetings. "All these technological innovations are really intensifying all of these base urges. It's hard to overstate how intensely they have 'poured gasoline on' all of these things," Amir adds.

Indeed, just like the middle class of the Renaissance, we use mirrors (or Zoom) to see what other people see when they look at us, Tara Well, a psychologist at Barnard College and author of Mirror Meditation, tells Big Think. This can become problematic if we obsess on our own image and the often unrealistic beauty standards set by society. The key is to avoid seeing yourself as an object and to use the mirror to get a deeper appreciation of your sense of self, Well says. We should look at ourselves as if we are looking at a friend.

Non-reversing mirrors

The image we see in the mirror is, of course, not a "true" representation of ourselves - but an image in reverse. Our brain has gotten used to that, which is why studies show that people prefer their mirror image to their "picture image" - a psychological phenomenon perhaps caused by the "mere exposure effect," the finding that we like things that are more familiar. "This is why your friends may love a photo of you, but you don't think it's flattering at all," Well says. "Your friends are used to seeing your 'true' image, and you are used to seeing your mirror image."

Some scholars argue that the flipped image we see in a mirror has caused us to misinterpret ourselves all throughout history. Instead, a non-reversing mirror gives back the image of what you look like to other people, not the "flipped," reflected version.

"Our minds are different on the left and the right, and as we think and feel different things, and then express them to others, our eyes and face will convey that information asymmetrically," says John Walter, the thinker and inventor behind True Mirror. "The problem is that in mirrors, that information is swapped. It can be close, but the interpretation of that information is going to be faulty... the thoughts and emotions that we have are not matched by what we are seeing."

One cannot help but wonder whether Narcissus still would have drowned had he known that he didn't actually look like what he saw in the reflection.

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Mirrors are the single biggest invention to forever change our perception of self

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Looking at ourselves in a mirror - or on a video call - shapes our sense of self. But what you see is not what others see.

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A Time article, looking at the debate over whether to rename India ‘Bharat’, and the political motivations behind this change.

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A Time article, looking at the debate over whether to rename India ‘Bharat’, and the political motivations behind this change.

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE  Why is there talk of a name-change to India? What is the historical background to changing the country’s name? From the information here, do you think this is an example of a country distancing itself from its colonial past and finding a more ‘appropriate’ name, or a “nationalist push” that indicates “pettiness & intolerance”? To wrap up: What is conveyed by a country’s name, and what relationship do they have with the management of power?

KEY TERMS Controversy, Nationalist push, Colonial past, Appropriate, Intolerance, Authentic

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Why Some Hindu Nationalists Want to Rename India

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An official invitation to a G-20 Summit dinner with the President of India referred to the country as “Bharat.”

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An Art Newspaper article, reporting on how some museums are updating artist Kazimir Malevich's nationality from Russian to Ukrainian. 

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An Art Newspaper article, reporting on how some museums are updating artist Kazimir Malevich's nationality from Russian to Ukrainian. 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE Which artists are being ‘reclassified’ in museums in The Netherlands and the US? What is the justification for doing this? Why do students think this is being done right now? Overall what does this story indicate about the importance of art in supporting ideological and political struggles taking place in the world?

Key terms Reclassified, Catalogue

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The Art Newspaper - International art news and events

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Russian or Ukrainian? Museums update Kazimir Malevich’s nationality

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The Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam now describes the abstract painter as Ukrainian, while The Met reclassifies other painters who were born or worked in the country

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A Big Think video, examining three different ‘models’ of the self. 

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A Big Think video, examining three different ‘models’ of the self. 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE How important is it for knowers to understand their ‘selves’?

Key terms Identity, Essence, Culture, Authentic, Selflessness, Process

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What is the ‘self’? The 3 layers of your identity. | Sam Harris, Mark Epstein & more | Big Think

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A BBC article, focusing on a Buckingham Palace reception where a black British woman was repeatedly asked ‘where are you from’? 

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A BBC article, focusing on a Buckingham Palace reception where a black British woman was repeatedly asked ‘where are you from’? 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE What happened at a Buckingham Palace reception to Ngozi Fulani, the CEO of a charity that supports victims of domestic abuse? How did this lead to her feeling “like we were trespassers, we didn’t belong”? Why do you think some media sources disagreed that this was discriminatory - some media sources are reporting this as an example of uncontrolled ‘wokeness’ (for example, this short piece in The Spectator). What determines the way media sources view an event? Get students to link this story to Taiye Selasie’s seminal ‘Don’t ask where I’m from…’ TED talk? Overall, do students agree with Taiye Selasie that: “Our experience is where we're from”?

Key terms Ethnic minority, Cultural, Heritage, Belonging

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When a senior royal aide repeatedly asked a prominent black charity boss where she was "really from", during a Buckingham Palace reception, it sparked an outcry. Being intrusively probed about your cultural and ethnic heritage is an unwelcome but frequent occurrence for many people. So what makes the question "where do you really come from" so loaded?

Most people belonging to an ethnic minority in the UK will have been asked this many times, by people of all ages and political leanings. It is so common it has become a cliche.

Reading about what happened to Ngozi Fulani at Buckingham Palace reminded me of being asked this question a few years ago. I was out for drinks with a large group of friends and a young white man of about my age repeatedly asked me where I was "really from".

Each time I answered with increasing levels of detail, until this stranger had heard about my entire childhood. But he still kept asking.

I eventually gave up and said that I am Indian.

"Aha!" he exclaimed. "Got there in the end."

I'm proud of my heritage, of my religion, of being South Indian - I have a strong connection not just to the culture, but to the physical place too. With the exception of the pandemic years, I have visited Bangalore about twice a year.

But if I want someone to know about my cultural background, I will bring it up with them myself, or it will inevitably come up naturally in conversation. This man's insistence really bothered me.

"I hate it when people ask me that," a friend of mixed-ethnicity tells me.

"At university it was constant. I just used to say 'London', and then they'd say, 'but where are you really from?' and gesture towards my face. No-one else in my halls was asked that question, because they were all white - they all got asked what they were studying.

"When it's someone's first question, and no-one else is being asked, it makes you feel like you don't belong somewhere."

Another friend agrees: "I forget sometimes about how I'm perceived - and it's really irritating to then have to explain my difference. Especially as I have no idea why my ethnicity even matters."

My sister says she finds being asked where she is "really" from "crushing". It makes her remember primary school teachers challenging her as a young child, when she told them she was British.

"It's such a toxic question," she says. "It makes you feel like because of your skin colour, you can't be 'from here'. When they say, 'where are you really from?', they're saying, 'you're not really from here'."

This is ultimately about being made into what theorists call the "other" - to be identified and characterised wholly by your difference. Someone has seen your skin colour, and has immediately registered you as different from them because of it. Finding common ground and feeling a sense of belonging is an innate human desire - this denies us that.

Identity is complex and constantly changing. If I tell someone I'm Indian, what does that mean to them? Does it imply I must have more in common with someone who has lived their whole life in Bangalore, than I do with a white person who grew up in the same city as me, went to the same school, walked the same streets, drank under-age in the same pubs and taunted the same teachers?

When I am asked where I'm "really from", my personal history is being dismissed in favour of an imagined similarity with a place I have never lived. I am seen as a stereotype, or a puzzle to be solved - how did someone with my skin end up in this country? The subtext is that rather than belonging here, I must belong to somewhere else.

Interestingly, everyone I spoke to told me they do not mind being asked where they are from by another person of colour, particularly if they are of a similar ethnic background. I have noticed this too - when someone who is visibly South Asian asks, I have often chosen to say that I am Indian.

"It's because they're not asking you to differentiate you," my sister says. "They're asking to find common ground, to make you part of their community."

I wonder if any of this feels different for my parents, first-generation immigrants who grew up in Bangalore and moved to the UK in the 1980s, a few years before I was born. They have lived all over the UK - from the Shetland Islands, to Wales, the north-east of England to London.

"I didn't mind being asked in the first few years I was here," my mum says. "At that point this wasn't really my country yet - and for other people, I didn't look like them and I didn't sound like them, so I understood why they were asking. But I still get asked the same question now, after being in this country for almost 40 years. It makes me feel that whatever I do, I'll never be considered as really 'from here'."

The final person I asked was my husband - a white recent first-generation migrant, who moved to the UK from the US when we married six years ago.

How does it feel for him to be asked where he is from - is it offensive in the same way?

"To be honest," he says, "I don't really get asked that."

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What is it like to be repeatedly asked where you are from?

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It is a question that ethnic minorities are constantly asked, but why exactly is it so loaded?

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A Guardian article, looking at how a Colombian restaurant specializing in indigenous food helps us to appreciate traditional knowledge. 

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A Guardian article, looking at how a Colombian restaurant specializing in indigenous food helps us to appreciate traditional knowledge. 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE What type of food does Mauricio Velasco specialize in? What does he mean when he says, “I want people not to just fall in love through the stomach, but to understand.” How can the work he does help to promote and protect indigenous communities and their traditions? To wrap up: “Food is as much the means to convey knowledge and heritage as it is the way to satisfy an appetite.” Do you agree? How can this way of thinking be used to safeguard indigenous societies around the world?

KEY TERMS Understand, Different cultures, Traditions, Awareness, Explaining

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Many of the dishes that emerge from Mauricio Velasco's kitchen are unrecognisable to most visitors.

Some, like the mojojoy - fat white palm weevil grubs served in a fish broth with lemon ants and sweet cassava flatbreads - can even repulse diners.

This means that Velasco spends a significant amount of his time away from the stove explaining to guests exactly what they are about to put into their mouths.

But that's precisely the point, the 27-year-old says with a broad grin.

"I want people not to just fall in love through the stomach, but to understand."

Velasco's restaurant, Amazónico, is in Mocoa, the capital of Colombia 's Putumayo region. Surrounded on all sides by forested mountains, the town's hilly streets remind visitors they are at an ecological frontier where the Andes mountain range ends and 7m sq km of Amazon rainforest begins.

map locating Mocoa in Colombia and showing adjacent areas of South America

Eighteen of Colombia's 102 Indigenous groups live in the region - each with their own unique gastronomic traditions developed over thousands of years.

"All these different cultures are what makes Putumayo amazing. For a chef, it's everything you could ever need to make wonderful food," says Velasco, who grew up in the town.

Yet Mocoa has little gastronomic connection with the wider region: a hungry diner is far more likely to find a hotdog than fresh fish or Amazon fruits.

"People here do not really value what is theirs, so my idea was to make a space where people can come to taste and feel the different flavours, trying food that transports them to the communities they otherwise cannot reach," Velasco says.

Velasco started Amazónico in 2019, and spent two years studying the diverse culinary cultures of the region's Indigenous communities.

Velasco helps prepare cassava at a local community. Photograph: Amazonico Restaurante

From the Siona people in the humid rainforests of the Amazon to the Kamëntsá communities in the Portachuelo mountains, the groups share a common threat: their heritage is fading.

Indigenous traditions - normally passed by mouth from generation to generation - are easily lost as communities leave Colombia's forests for its cities.

Indigenous communities are particularly vulnerable in Putumayo, which has long been a conflict zone thanks to the drugs trade and the presence of armed groups. For decades Indigenous families have been forced to abandon their territory before their children can be taught to hunt or pick the fruits of the rainforest.

By documenting the traditions of Putumayo's Indigenous peoples and bringing them to the town Velasco hopes to generate pride in Indigenous cuisine and help protect them from extinction.

"We want these people to continue passing the knowledge they learnt from their fathers to their children, not for them to feel ashamed and leave it behind," he says.

Amazónico's menu is created from seasonal ingredients purchased directly from Indigenous communities, and the reliable income stream helps them maintain their traditions, Velsasco says.

At the heart of the menu is the monstrous pirarucu - a prehistoric fish native to the Amazon and the largest in the world.

Different cuts of the pirarucu are grilled and served as steaks alongside various creamy and sweet sides but the most popular dish is probably the pirarucu croquettes. Fried in a crunchy cassava flour coating, balls of the 200kg fish are served with a black chilli sauce made with ants.

Chef Mauricio Velasco at work. Photograph: Amazonico Restaurante

"Pirarucu used to only be available in Puerto Leguízamo, which is nine hours away and the only way to transport it was dried. It was overly salty and it stank, so everyone thought it was horrific. They didn't realise that fresh pirarucu is delicious and you can use nearly the entire fish, from the tail to the belly and the ribs."

Alongside exotic fish and insects the restaurant offers a wide selection of cocktails using the fruits of the Amazon.

Amazónico is the latest edition to the "rainforest to table movement" sweeping Latin America and the wider world.

By transporting the foods of the rainforest, ambitious chefs are educating people on the wonders of the Amazon through food.

The movement is helping raise awareness of the need to protect the rainforest from soaring deforestation, says Mark Plotkin, an ethnobotanist who has spent decades studying the healing properties of the Amazon's roughly 80,000 plant species.

"New restaurants like this are blazing a new culinary trail into the rainforest, sharing these tasty and nutritional delights with the world at large," Plotkin says.

Bistro-style restaurants serving foods from far-flung corners of Colombia have become in vogue in the past 10 years in Bogotá and are at the forefront of the capital's innovative food scene.

Away from Bogotá's hipster bubbles, the task is more challenging.

A tortilla with fish broth, containing ingredients harvested locally. Photograph: Amazónico Restaurante

Local people are reluctant to dine at one of Mocoa's most expensive restaurants when they recognise little on the menu. Most customers at Amazónico are visitors to Putumayo from Bogotá or abroad.

"I'm often asked, 'where is the salmon, the steak or the risotto?'" Velasco says.

Offering a few familiar options on the menu and carefully explaining Amazónico's concept to new guests is helping secure more local reservations, however. Earlier this year the restaurant inaugurated a second floor to accommodate the growing number of customers.

The restaurant is already making a change to the communities that Amazónico works with, Velasco says. Seeing their traditional foods served up under Amazónico's wicker lamps fills them with pride over their rich gastronomic heritage.

The biggest change, however, has probably been visited on the chef himself.

Velasco had planned to learn his trade in the Michelin-starred kitchens of Europe, but Amazónico was conceived out of necessity when a landslide flattened Mocoa in 2017, destroying his parents' bakery - and with it hopes of studying abroad.

"Amazónico has changed my life entirely," he says. "I now realise that I wanted to travel before ever really understanding or valuing my own home. In exploring my region and meeting all these people, every day I understand, fall in love with, and appreciate Putumayo more. My dream today is not to travel but to keep working with them because I can see the change it's bringing."

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Weevils and lemon ants: a chef in the Amazon keeps rainforest dishes alive

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Colombian Mauricio Velasco dreamed of working in the Michelin-starred kitchens of Europe but now his Amazónico eatery celebrates local, Indigenous gastronomic traditions

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A Conversation article*, exploring the difficulties of reconciling the moral obligations of a religious faith with the laws of the society in which it exists.  

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A Conversation article*, exploring the difficulties of reconciling the moral obligations of a religious faith with the laws of the society in which it exists.  

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE What examples does it offer of tensions between immigration policies and religious groups’ commitments to humanitarian care? What arguments do some religious leaders accused of breaking immigration laws present to defend their actions? What does this story indicate about the different priorities for governments and religious traditions? Overall, which perspective should take precedent when we form our moral outlooks on the world: the religion, or the state, to which we belong? How can they be reconciled when they clash?

KEY TERMS Religious freedoms, Violated, Motivations, Cultural, Globalizing world

*We're proud to work in partnership with The Conversation. To sign up for their newsletter, which we draw on widely to create TOK lesson material, follow this link.

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Many religious traditions preach the need to care for strangers. But what happens when caring for the stranger comes into conflict with government policy?

After Title 42 restrictions at the U.S. border ended on May 11, 2023, debates about immigration have heated up again - focused mostly on reform, border security or refugees' needs.

But the treatment of immigrants is deeply intertwined with religious freedom as well. As a scholar of religious ethics who studies immigration, I am interested in recent cases that highlight growing tensions between immigration policies and religious groups' commitments to pastoral and humanitarian care.

Ministry at the border

One high-profile example centers on Rev. Kaji Douša, senior pastor at Park Avenue Christian Church in New York City, who traveled to Tijuana, Mexico, in 2018 to provide pastoral care to asylum seekers.

Her work was flagged by Customs and Border Protection after a Honduran woman allegedly said that Douša told migrants that marrying each other would make it easier to receive legal papers in the U.S. As Douša later testified, she did perform religious ceremonies, but only for couples who were already in common-law marriages and without claiming to provide any legal status.

Douša's name and photo were added to a Department of Homeland Security watch list that included lawyers, journalists and activists, and she was detained and questioned by CBP officers upon her return to the U.S. A CBP official also sent an email to Mexican authorities asking them to ban Douša from entering Mexico because she lacked proper documentation - which the official later acknowledged had no basis in fact.

Douša filed a lawsuit accusing DHS of unjust surveillance and retaliation, and in March 2023 a federal judge ruled in her favor. Judge Todd Robinson agreed that DHS had violated Douša's right to freedom of religious expression by instructing Mexican authorities to detain her.

Both Douša and the United Church of Christ, which ordained her, argued that her actions were based in her religious commitments. Douša previously stated, "To reject a migrant is to cast away God's angels, which I am unwilling to do."

Shifts in the legal landscape

This is not the first time religious leaders or groups providing pastoral and humanitarian care to migrants have come under scrutiny.

One famous example is the Sanctuary Movement of the 1980s, an informal network of up to 500 churches whose members provided safe haven to undocumented asylum seekers fleeing violence in Central America.

Several members of the movement were convicted of conspiring to smuggle immigrants into the U.S. They appealed, arguing that their work was inspired by their religious convictions and that the government was violating their First Amendment rights. Yet their claims were largely unsuccessful.

Over the past few decades, however, religious freedom claims have often found more favor in U.S. courts.

In part, this is because of the 1993 Religious Freedom Restoration Act, which has made it easier for people and institutions to claim religiously based exemptions from generally applicable laws. One of the best-known examples is the 2014 Supreme Court case Burwell v. Hobby Lobby, in which the court, citing the owners' religious convictions, exempted the national chain of crafts stores from providing employee health insurance that included contraception coverage.

Help on the ground

This shift has opened new lines of defense for religious actors, including humanitarian groups.

No More Deaths is a nonprofit associated with a Unitarian Universalist church in Tucson, Arizona. Members leave supplies along desert routes traveled by migrants, provide first aid and occasionally offer services such as temporary shelter to migrants who are suffering from exposure.

In 2018, volunteers were charged with littering, driving on protected lands and, in one case, harboring undocumented immigrants.

Four volunteers were initially convicted, but their charges were dismissed after they argued that they were compelled by religious convictions and that the government had violated their freedom of religious expression. The appeals court judge cited the Religious Freedom Restoration Act as well as the Hobby Lobby case in holding that the volunteers were protected under U.S. law.

A more recent dustup between a religious humanitarian organization and government officials occurred in December 2022. A group of Republicans in Congress sent a letter to Catholic Charities, a humanitarian nonprofit affiliated with the church that provides food, shelter and bathing facilities on both sides of the border.

In U.S. border cities, the organization also provides transportation from shelters to bus stops and money exchanges. The representatives' letter cited this work as a reason to suspect Catholic Charities of encouraging illegal border crossings and required staff to preserve records of their work.

The organization argued that the charges were " both fallacious and factually inaccurate." Caring for people in need, "including vulnerable people on the move," leaders wrote, "is a part of the fabric of the global Catholic Church and is mandated by the gospel."

Yet another sticking point between religious groups and immigration law has emerged in Florida in recent weeks. A bill recently signed into law by Gov. Ron DeSantis was modified after religious groups protested against its proposed criminal penalties for knowingly transporting or concealing an undocumented immigrant. Religious leaders argued that this would violate their religious freedom by preventing them from providing rides to religious services or from finding aid for people in need.

National vs. universal mandates

It is not surprising that these conflicts keep happening, considering the U.S. government's and religious organizations' different motivations around migration.

One main driver for politicians is simply that many voters are nervous about newcomers, especially if they have different cultural, religious or racial backgrounds. The nonprofit Public Religion Research Institute has found that while 55% of Americans think immigrants strengthen American society, 40% believe a growing number of newcomers "threatens traditional American customs and values." In the past few years, multiple Republican politicians have even embraced some version of the "great replacement" conspiracy theory. Once limited to extremist and antisemitic groups, replacement theory alleges that immigrants are either replacing native-born American citizens or are intentionally being used to facilitate electoral and social change.

Political scientist Seyla Benhabib has argued that another reason some leaders focus on border policies is that national sovereignty has been weakened in a globalizing world. Multinational corporations, for example, are sometimes influential enough to shape government policies, such as lobbying for weaker labor laws and environmental protections.

But whereas sovereignty and citizens are priorities for governments, many religious traditions teach adherents to care for people regardless of what community they belong to. Religious thinkers do argue over whether their traditions encourage greater attention to people in their own communities. Still, when it comes to people's most basic survival needs, most emphasize that care should know no borders.

For the foreseeable future, these priorities will continue to clash - and some religious people may push back by claiming a First Amendment right to freedom of religious expression.

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When faith says to help migrants - and the law says don't

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As governments crack down at their borders, religious groups' teachings to help the stranger remain unchanged.

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This Big Think article deconstructs how maps are used to show the migration of people, and how their language and designs are often loaded with meaning. 

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This Big Think article deconstructs how maps are used to show the migration of people, and how their language and designs are often loaded with meaning. 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE Get students to study the red and blue maps, and see how their understanding of immigration alters. They could produce their own maps with the same data, experimenting with colour, icons, and other graphic representations. Overall, how possible is it to present data objectively? Do biases always interfere?

Key terms Objective data, Preconceptions

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One map can say more than a thousand words. That's why we shouldn't believe all they're telling us. See, maps have a problem. They appear neutral, objective, authoritative. But that's exactly all that they're not. Each map reflects the many choices the cartographer has made, consciously or not, both in terms of content and form.

And so, without us even noticing it, maps can confirm bias, entrench prejudice and perpetuate injustice. Take for instance the topic of migration, guaranteed to raise the volume of the after-dinner conversation at any party. In a recent article, Dutch news website De Correspondent argues that the cartographic depiction of migrant flows into Europe reinforces the negative attitudes many Europeans have towards migrants.

Image: Frontex - Risk Analysis for 2020

Here's a map taken from the 2020 annual report by Frontex, the European Border and Coast Guard Agency, showing the illegal border crossings into the EU for 2019. As part of the official report on illegal immigration, this map is the source of many others in the European media.

While it may seem nothing more or less than a factually correct cartographic representation of objective data contained in the report, De Correspondent argues that there are several things wrong with this image.

The arrows are reminiscent of battlefield maps, suggesting that Europe is under attack. This is aggravated by the use of the color red, which signals danger.

The arrows are huge - larger than some countries. This homogenises a diverse group of people, and inflates the perceived size of the issue.

The 'straightness' of the arrows indicates a clear purpose; but most migrants experience a much more circuitous and dangerous path, not always concluded successfully (or alive).

The title refers to 'illegal border crossings', not mentioning that migrants hardly have legal means of entering the EU.

This all serves to affirm certain preconceptions about migration into Europe: the continent is being flooded by a huge influx of hostile aliens. "It's no coincidence that political parties opposed to migration use maps like these in their communication," the article states.

Image: De Correspondent, reproduced with kind permission.

Can maps confer the same information without confirming those biases? De Correspondent took the Frontex map and translated it into its own house style; and then produced a kinder, gentler alternative:

The colour is a more soothing blue rather than the aggressive red.

The map's new title ("These are the routes via which irregular migrants reach the EU") no longer focuses on the illegal aspect of the entries.

The military-style arrows are replaced by circles.

While the 'blue' map at least makes an active effort not to walk into the same bias-confirming trap that the 'red' one does, it still tells only part of the story. No mention is made of the conflicts that motivate migrants to risk their lives in journeying to Europe - nor indeed of the many lives lost along those routes.

Image: De Correspondent, reproduced with kind permission.

Perhaps a map is not the right way at all to present information on migration, De Correspondent argues. Here's another illustration: a simple bar chart, showing the number of irregular border crossings for each of the preceding six years. Following the dramatic refugee influx of 2015, that number has gone down significantly and consistently for each of the following years.

This offers a radically different perspective on the same reality - and one less likely to be reproduced by anti-immigration parties.
For more background (and more maps), see the original article at De Correspondent (in Dutch), which was based on an article in the journal Mobilities: The migration map trap. On the invasion arrows in the cartography of migration (in English). Strange Maps #1045 Got a strange map? Let me know at [email protected] .

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One map can say more than a thousand words. That's why we shouldn't believe all they're telling us. See, maps have a problem. They appear neutral, objective, authoritative. But that's exactly all that they're not. Each map reflects the many choices the cartographer has made, consciously or not, both in terms of content and form.

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A Wired article, looking at how neuroscience seeks to establish a link between a cause (loneliness) and an effect (damage to our mental health). 

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A Wired article, looking at how neuroscience seeks to establish a link between a cause (loneliness) and an effect (damage to our mental health). 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE How did researchers try to study loneliness in the 1950s - and what are the ethical implications related to their methods? How has the Covid-19 pandemic, and associated lockdown, given us the opportunity to study loneliness? How have they managed to connect it with mental health issues? Overall, do ‘natural experiments’ provide us with better knowledge than ‘laboratory manufactured’ insights?

Key terms Laboratory vs. natural experiments, Evidence

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Extreme isolation does strange things to the human mind. In late 1964 Josie Laures and Antoine Senni disappeared into two caves in the French Alps as part of an experiment to find out what effect isolation would have on their bodies and minds. When Senni emerged after 126 days in isolation - a record at the time - he thought that only a couple of months had passed. In 1972 Michel Siffre, a French caver who oversaw the pair's experiment went even further, spending six months in a cave near Del Rio, Texas. "Physically it was not tiring, but mentally it was hell," he told Der Spiegel four decades later.

Attempts to manufacture isolation in the laboratory are even more disturbing. In the 1950s, Canadian psychologist Donald Hebb paid graduate students at McGill University $20 a day to stay alone in tiny rooms. The volunteers' hands were placed in cardboard tubes, their ears covered by thick U-shaped pillows to muffle any sounds and opaque goggles were placed over their eyes. Soon enough their mental cognition deteriorated and they experienced extreme restlessness and vivid hallucinations. One student reported feeling that his body was in two places at once, and he was unable to decide which one was really him.

Humans rarely experience such extreme social isolation, but studies have shown that even in normal life, increased loneliness has a negative impact on physical and mental health. One review of the science of loneliness found that people with stronger social relationships have a 50 per cent increased likelihood of survival over a set period of time compared with those with weaker social connections. Other studies have linked loneliness to cardiovascular disease, inflammation and depression.

We've known since the 1980s that people who are more socially isolated tend to have worse health, but we still don't know why loneliness is so closely linked to our health. Is it that isolated people tend to have other risk factors for certain diseases, or is there something about loneliness itself that rearranges the wiring of our brains, slowly wearing away at our health? For loneliness researchers the pandemic has provided an unprecedented natural experiment in the impact that social isolation might have on our brains. As millions of people across the world emerge from months of reduced social contact, a new neuroscience of loneliness is starting to figure out why social relationships are so crucial to our health.

Although the link between loneliness and poor health is well-established, scientists have only recently been able to take the first glimpses of what social isolation looks like in our brains. It's a discovery that started with a failed experiment. As part of her PhD at Imperial College London, Gillian Matthews was trying to find out how drug addiction affected the connections between specific neurons in a part of the brain called the dorsal raphe nucleus (DRN). Matthews divided the mice she was studying in two groups - one she injected with cocaine and the other with a saltwater solution - but no matter what she tried, she kept seeing that the DRN neuron connections were growing stronger in both groups of mice.

These new neural connections, Matthews realised, had little to do with drugs. Both groups of mice had been isolated for 24 hours before the start of the experiment. What Matthews was seeing was the effect that social isolation had on the brains she was studying. This accidental discovery opened up a new way of thinking about loneliness - if we could see the traces of social isolation in the brains of mice, it meant that loneliness didn't just describe a state in the outside world, it could also point to something on the inside too.

Matthews' realisation shunted her career in a new direction. Leaving her research on drug addiction to one side, in 2013 she went to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) to join Kay Tye's laboratory. Tye is a neuroscientist focussed on understanding the neural basis of emotion, and she's also one of the pioneers of optogenetics - a technique that uses genetically-engineered proteins inserted into brain cells to give researchers the ability to turn neurons on and off by shining light through fibre-optic cables into the brains of live animals. The approach lets scientists activate regions of the brain in real-time and watch how the animals respond. "At the point I joined the lab [optogenetics] was really exploding and it opened up so much more potential for the studies that you could do," Matthews says.

Armed with this new technique, Matthews and Tye wanted to figure out how DRN neurons influenced mice during social isolation. When the researchers stimulated the neurons the animals were more likely to seek out other mice. When they suppressed the same neurons, even isolated animals lost the desire for social interaction. It was as if Matthews and Tye had located the neural switch that controlled the animals' desire for social interaction - it turned on when they were isolated and turned back off again when their social cravings were satisfied.

Their discovery could radically change our understanding of loneliness. "Taking that idea suggests that there are mechanisms in place to help maintain social contact in the same way that there are mechanisms in place to make sure we maintain our food intake or our water intake," Matthews says. It suggests that social contact isn't just nice to have - it's a fundamental need that our brains are hardwired to seek out. This is already borne out in studies on honeybees, ants, mice and rats. "Without the full level of social contact then survival reduces in numerous species," Matthews says.

In 2020, another MIT neuroscientist released a paper suggesting that human brains respond to social isolation in a similar way to Matthews' mice. Livia Tomova recruited 40 volunteers and asked them to turn in their smartphones, tablets and laptops and spend 10 hours in a room by themselves. The volunteers could occupy themselves with puzzle books and writing materials but they weren't allowed access to any fiction that might contain a hint of social contact that might take the edge off their isolation. If the volunteers needed to use the bathroom, they had to wear earplugs that prevented them from overhearing any conversations on the way. "We tried to create a scenario where people would really not have any sort of input," says Tomova, who is now at the University of Cambridge.

Optogenetics is too invasive to use on humans, but instead Tomova took fMRI scans of her volunteers' brains. When the isolated volunteers were shown photos of social cues, the regions of their brains associated with cravings lit up with activity in the same way that the brains of hungry people lit up when they were shown pictures of food. The area of the brain that Tomova focused on is rich in dopamine neurons, which drive our motivations and expectations of the world around us. When our brains anticipate a rewarding activity - like eating or social contact - these neurons activate in anticipation, but if we don't get these interactions then our brains experience a negative, craving-like feeling.

Tomova says that this might explain the negative consequences of long-term isolation. "If you are in a state of prolonged stress, the same adaptations that are in the first place healthy and necessary, will actually become detrimental because they're not designed to be long term states," she says. "The idea [of the cravings] is that the goal should be to seek out others and reinstate social contact."

These findings raise all kinds of questions for understanding of social isolation and its impact on health. Are there neurological differences between people who experience short-term isolation and those who have been isolated for long stretches of time? What kinds of social interactions satisfy our social cravings? Is a video call enough to quell our need for social contact, or do some people require an in-person connection to really feel satiated?

Despite knowing about the link between social isolation and health for decades, we don't have satisfying answers to any of these questions yet. "There is this evidence that has been around a long time, but the unfortunate part is that it has been so under-recognised," says Julianne Holt-Lunstad, a psychology professor at Brigham Young University in the US and the author of two major studies on social isolation and health. "We have a lot of data that very robustly shows that both isolation and loneliness put us at increased risk for premature mortality and conversely, that being socially connected is protective and reduces our risk," she says.

Holt-Lunstad thinks the pandemic could be a turning point in our understanding of loneliness. "I'm really hopeful that this is a huge wake up call, you know, a point of reflection for us to learn from this," she says. In 2018, the UK government launched its first loneliness strategy and the NHS has already started directing people towards social clubs and other activities in an effort to reduce levels of loneliness. "This is a public health issue, and it should be prioritised as such," says Holt-Lunstad. "And as policies are being implemented those policies should be evaluated and revised if needed."

Solving the problem of loneliness - and understanding what helps and what doesn't - will mean getting to grips with the different kinds of isolation people experience. We don't know much about what happens when people go from a state of loneliness to one of social connection, says Andrew Steptoe, professor of psychology and epidemiology at University College London. He has been studying the health of people who go from living alone to living with someone else, but it's hard to pinpoint which effects are down to changes in social isolation and which are caused by other factors.

"Trying to investigate isolation, or loneliness is not as straightforward in humans [...] in humans being lonely is not necessarily correlated with how many people are around you," says Tomova. She is particularly interested in the impact that the pandemic might have had on young people whose cognitive and social skills are still developing. "I think we will see potentially some differences in how their social behaviour [developed] or things like that," she says. But as is alway the case in the uncertain world of loneliness research, the opposite could be true. "It could also be that most people are fine, because maybe social media does fulfil our social needs really well."
Matt Reynolds is WIRED's science editor. He tweets from @mattsreynolds1

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The weird science of loneliness explains why lockdown sucked

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Extreme isolation does strange things to the human mind. In late 1964 Josie Laures and Antoine Senni disappeared into two caves in the French Alps as part of an experiment to find out what effect isolation would have on their bodies and minds.

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A Guardian article, looking at how an increasing number of Brazilians are now eager to label themselves ‘indigenous’. 

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A Guardian article, looking at how an increasing number of Brazilians are now eager to label themselves ‘indigenous’. 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE Why has there been a tendency in Brazil for many indigenous people to deny their identities? How does the political climate of a country affect the way people view indigenous societies, either from the outside, or from within? How has a change in the way we see identity encouraged more people to embrace their indigenous roots? To wrap up: How important is it within society that people feel able to embrace - rather than suppress - the cultural and ethnic backgrounds that they come from?

KEY TERMS Justify, Indigenous identity, Appreciation, Erased

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When a census taker came knocking on Vahnessa de Oliveira Ferreira's door in Rio de Janeiro in 2010 and asked her how she identified racially, she replied "mixed". Twelve years later, when asked the same question for Brazil's 2022 census, she had changed her answer to "Indigenous".

"Indigenous people learned to justify themselves [as mixed-race] because for a long time, being Indigenous was synonymous with being lazy, a good-for-nothing, a savage," said Ferreira, a tour guide and social educator who now proudly identifies as a trans Indigenous woman.

The 37-year-old is part of a growing number of Brazilians reclaiming their Indigenous identity, as reflected in new census data published on Monday. According to the Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE), the number of people identifying as Indigenous has increased by nearly 90% in just 12 years, from 896,917 to 1.69 million.

An estimated 5 million native people lived on the land that would later be christened Brazil when Portuguese invaders arrived in 1500. Decimated first by disease, war and enslavement, and more recently by state oppression and a policy of miscegenation that effectively erased Indigenous experiences, the native population had officially fallen to a few hundred thousand by the end of the 20th century.

Vahnessa de Oliveira Ferreira. Photograph: handout

"There was a tendency for Indigenous peoples to deny their identities, to protect themselves from racism, historical violence, ethnocidal policies," said Rosani Kamury Kaingang, an Indigenous researcher at the Federal University of Pará, where she is known by her legal Portuguese name, Rosani de Fatima Fernandes.

Increasingly meticulous work by the IBGE, both within and outside Indigenous territories, has helped produce ever more accurate data on Brazil's native population in the census. But this growth in official statistics also reflects the success of an organised Indigenous movement that has fought tirelessly to gain rights, visibility and a political voice in the last four decades.

"This created a much more favourable scenario for Indigenous people in terms of legal rights and public policy," said João Pacheco de Oliveira, professor of anthropology at the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro (UFRJ).

Even the violent anti-Indigenous stance of the previous Jair Bolsonaro government could not roll back a process of growing appreciation for Indigenous cultures and causes.

"The Indigenous issue gained visibility through a positive lens, and this had an effect on some people who started to look at themselves in the mirror, see themselves as Indigenous and begin this process of reclaiming their identity," said Tarisson Nawa, a doctoral student in social anthropology at the UFRJ and active member of the Indigenous movement. This is strengthened by an understanding of identity as defined by socio-cultural characteristics rather than physical traits, he added.

Miguel da Silva Guimarães started seeing himself as Indigenous after his grandfather revealed the family's origins on his deathbed. "Only our elders knew we were Indigenous. It was a way of protecting us," said the 58-year-old, whose family left the Amazon forest for the city of Belém when he was a child, fleeing the threat of land invaders.

Guimarães now goes by Kwarahy Tembé Tenetehar - a name bestowed on him by Indigenous relatives he met while searching for his personal history - and has made it his mission to help other people reclaim their Indigenous identity. To that end he founded the Wyka Kwara Association, an organisation that has welcomed around 1,000 urban Indigenous people as they seek to reconnect with their culture and communities.

Many are from ethnic groups considered extinct by the state, a label described as "absurd" by Pacheco de Oliveira. "People can recover their traditions, identity, languages," he said.

After tracing back her Indigenous ancestry that had been erased through a process of urban migration, Ferreira identifies as Goitacá, a group from the northern coast of Rio de Janeiro state officially declared extinct centuries ago. She is one of a handful of resurgent Goitacás.

"Now I shout from the rooftops that I exist," she said. "We are a part of Brazilian society."

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'I shout from the rooftops I exist': Brazilians identifying as Indigenous up by 90% in 12 years

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A growing number of Brazilians are reclaiming their Indigenous identity, after years of fighting for rights

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A Guardian article, looking at how a Spanish ice-cream maker bases their products on flavours that deliberately evoke childhood memories. 

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A Guardian article, looking at how a Spanish ice-cream maker bases their products on flavours that deliberately evoke childhood memories. 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE What’s on the menu in Mamá Heladera, in Barcelona, and what relationship does it have with memory? What kind of flavour requests does the owner, Irene Iborra, receive from customers? What flavours would students ask for, and why? Overall, how important is the role of smell and taste in determining our identity and sense of self?

Key terms Provoke memories, Neurogastronomy Key terms Provoke memories, Neurogastronomy

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Irene Iborra tells tales with ice-cream and with a single lick she can summon up memories that send you spinning back to your childhood days.

"When I opened Mamá Heladera in 2021 I thought: how can taste provoke memories and how can I find what these tastes are?" she said.

"The obvious thing was to ask, so I created a Google doc and asked around 100 local people for the tastes and smells that reminded them of their childhood."

At the Guardian's request, she agreed to attempt to evoke the aromas of maple syrup, snow and pine needles that accompany the early spring Québécois ritual of sugaring off, when children are taken to the maple woods and given a small metal tray packed with snow to collect the season's first crop of syrup. As it hits the snow it solidifies to form a sort of maple toffee.

The sorbet she produced captured it perfectly. On the palate, the first taste was pine, Canada's definitive aroma, then just a hint of maple syrup, finishing with the unmistakable if unnameable taste of snow. For a moment, Barcelona became the wooded outskirts of Montreal.

It was when Iborra, the fifth generation in a family of ice-cream makers, was backpacking in Asia that she became aware of how closely our idea of where we come from is associated with the tastes and smells of childhood.

'When I opened Mamá Heladera in 2021 I thought: how can taste provoke memories and how can I find what these tastes are?' said Iborra. Photograph: Stephen Burgen

She then became fascinated by neurogastronomy when she was studying at the prestigious Escuela de Hostelería Hofmann in Barcelona, which is also where she met her business partner, Irene Vidal.

Lavender came up often in her survey as it was once common practice to hang bags of it in wardrobes, so she made a lavender and acidic cherry ice-cream.

"A lot of people mentioned croquettes, cannelloni [a traditional Boxing Day dish in Catalonia] and bechamel," she said. "The bechamel ice-cream we make with nutmeg, black pepper, salt and vanilla."

Her coconut ice-cream is based on people's memories of Chang Feng, the first Chinese restaurant to open in Iborra's own neighbourhood of Poblenou, once the heart of Barcelona's textile industry.

Irene Iborra, the founder of Mamá Heladera, is the fifth generation in a family of ice-cream makers. Photograph: Sarah Davison

For many people the smell of plasticine is intimately associated with childhood and Iborra has devised an ice-cream made with coconut and bitter almonds that recaptures the scent but fortunately not the taste.

"There are limits, you can't make ice-cream out of just anything," she said. "Someone wanted an ice-cream that tasted of fuet [dry-cured pork sausage] but that doesn't work.

"One of the strangest ones we've made was tomato and onion, like a sofrito. It wasn't bad, because the onion has a sweetness, but it wasn't something we could sell."

She's still struggling to perfect a request for an ice-cream that tastes of sausages cooking on the barbecue. It's called Love in March and has a smoky flavour.

Mamá Heladera is next door to El Tío Che, reputed to make the city's best horchata - a cold drink made from tiger nuts - and run by her family since 1912.

Iborra's great-great-grandfather left Alicante for Barcelona with the intention of taking a ship to America, but the horchata he brought with him from home caught on and he stayed.

The cafe got its name - meaning "the Che Guy" - because when it first opened he used to shout to passersby: " Pruébalo che!" (Hey, give it a go!).

In Spain, both horchata and saying che (hey) are peculiar to Valencia and Alicante.

Iborra never intended to join the family business but little by little it drew her in. "There have been some crazy ideas, learning experiences, anxiety, failures, successes, but it's based on simple logic: what's the smell of your childhood and what comprises this aroma?" she said. "An ice-cream can take you straight back to this memory."

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Tasting memories: the Spanish ice-creams serving a scoop of nostalgia

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Irene Iborra tells tales with ice-cream and with a single lick she can summon up memories that send you spinning back to your childhood days. "When I opened Mamá Heladera in 2021 I thought: how can taste provoke memories and how can I find what these tastes are?" she said.

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A Big Think article, looking at how positive labels can end up having a negative effect on our perceptions about the world. 

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A Big Think article, looking at how positive labels can end up having a negative effect on our perceptions about the world. 

# data[].attributes.body
UNPACKING THE SOURCE Use this to explore questions such as: is it possible to produce meaningful data about this - and if so, how? Second, do students themselves have any personal insights into this, in terms of the way they have been impacted by labelling? Should we try to avoid labelling as much as possible in order to understand the world objectively?

Key terms Positive labelling, Perceptions

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Study: Does the label “straight” worsen perceptions of gay people?

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A new study explores how using positive labels to describe a majority group may negative impact perceptions of minority groups.

# data[].attributes.headline
This BBC article ask a very simple question, that has a complex answer: why are same-sex relationships supported within some countries, and opposed in others? 

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This BBC article ask a very simple question, that has a complex answer: why are same-sex relationships supported within some countries, and opposed in others? 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE Use it to explore the impact of ethical thinking on the ‘real world’, and explore how different societies have evolved different perspectives in relation to this moral question. What are the three factors that the article identifies as determining a society’s outlook towards same-sex marriage? How do they shape the production of our ethical knowledge? Should we think in terms of ‘progress’ in terms of ethical understanding?

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When Taiwan became the first place in Asia to legalise same-sex unions, hundreds of gay people marked the occasion by registering to marry.

In many other places there has also been a shift - often a rapid one - towards more liberal attitudes.

Attitudes among the public also appear to have softened in other places including Argentina, Chile, the US, Australia, India and many in Western Europe.

But these changes do not always mean full equality. In Taiwan, for example, the government stopped short of granting full adoption rights.

Elsewhere, some nations are bringing in stricter anti-gay laws and same-sex relationships remain illegal in about 69 countries. On Friday, Kenya's High Court upheld a law banning gay sex.

Pockets of opposition

In some countries, opposition towards gay relationships is deeply entrenched and may be growing.

Elsewhere, official punishments for gay sex may provide insights into how residents, or at least their leaders, view homosexuality.

So, why does support for gay and lesbian people vary so much around the world?

One theory is that a nation's economy shapes the attitudes of its people - including how they feel about LGBT rights.

When people are concerned about things like clean water, food, shelter and safety, they can become more reliant on others.

People living in richer nations, by contrast, tend to have a lot more security.

As a result, they are more likely to have freedom to make the decisions that suit them, and to believe in self-expression.

Democracy is also thought to play a role.

In democracies, principles like equality, fairness, and the right to protest are more likely to form part of the actions of government and residents.

But people can need time to adapt to democracy.

Another factor is the role of religion.

Western Europe, with its relatively low levels of religious belief, has been at the forefront of legalising same-sex marriage. Denmark, Belgium, Norway, Spain and Sweden were among the first countries to do so.

Some Middle Eastern and African nations, where Islam or conservative Protestant religious faiths are most commonly practised, have some of the least tolerant attitudes.

But while richer, more democratic and less religious nations tend to be more tolerant, there are many exceptions.

China, for example, has low levels of religious beliefs, but polls suggest its people are a lot less supportive of gay rights than their Taiwanese neighbours.

Shift in attitudes

Nations have always differed in terms of economic development, democracy and religion. So, why have attitudes and policies changed so much over the last 20 years?

Nevertheless, it cannot be assumed that all countries will, sooner or later, introduce laws that are more gay-friendly.

For example, in 2009 Uganda considered a bill which would have made gay sex punishable with death in some circumstances. In response, several nations threatened to cut their funding, and the World Bank postponed a $90m (£70.7m) loan.

Elsewhere, political candidates may back harsh laws as a way to generate publicity and gain public support.

Attitudes and policies in many nations have clearly been shifting.

But the suggestion that more will follow in their footsteps is not a foregone conclusion.

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Why are some places gay-friendly and not others?

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Attitudes towards gay people are more tolerant in some countries, but others buck the trend.

# data[].attributes.headline
A Guardian article, looking at how a Jamaican linguist was brought in to advise on the new biopic of Bob Marley, to avoid creating “another Cool Runnings”.

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A Guardian article, looking at how a Jamaican linguist was brought in to advise on the new biopic of Bob Marley, to avoid creating “another Cool Runnings”.

# data[].attributes.body
UNPACKING THE SOURCE How have Jamaicans’ attitudes to Patois changed over time, and what does the article say are the reasons for this? How is Jamaican Patois becoming politicized, and what does this indicate about the relationship between language and power? What role does Dr Joseph Farquharson say language plays in defining a society’s identity? To wrap up: “When we neglect our native language, we lose our flavour and become like everyone else.” Do you agree? What are the implications of this?

KEY TERMS Globalise, Accent, Authentic, Shifting attitudes, Politicised, Colonial past, Unworthy

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‘We will not accept fake Patois’: Jamaican linguist on dialogue in Bob Marley biopic

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Advisers say they were keen to avoid ‘another Cool Runnings’ in portrayal of Jamaicans in One Love

# data[].attributes.headline
An FT story, which looks at how RyanAir used a test written in Afrikaans to test whether passengers were really South African. 

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An FT story, which looks at how RyanAir used a test written in Afrikaans to test whether passengers were really South African. 

# data[].attributes.body
UNPACKING THE SOURCE What have South African passengers been asked to do when travelling on RyanAir flights, and why? Why has this ‘unconsciously triggered’ reactions from many passengers? What does it reveal about the importance of being culturally aware, and having an understanding of history? Overall, what does the article indicate about the role language plays in determining our identities, and the consequences of cultural insensitivity?

Key terms Enforced use, Exclusionary, Unconscious triggering

We're proud to work in partnership with the FT, to promote their free FT for Schools programme. Follow this link to sign up your school, and access this and other articles.

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News, analysis and comment from the Financial Times, the worldʼs leading global business publication

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A Big Think article, looking at the Inglehart-Welzel World Cultural map, which arranges nations according to their traditions and religious outlooks. 

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A Big Think article, looking at the Inglehart-Welzel World Cultural map, which arranges nations according to their traditions and religious outlooks. 

# data[].attributes.body
UNPACKING THE SOURCE What insights do students feel it offers us? Do they like the way the data is generated and plotted on the map (which is actually a ‘scatterplot diagram’)? What are their opinions on the criticisms offered in the final paragraph that it is “simplistic, and culturally essentialist”?

Key terms Values, Cultural proximity

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Credit: Robyn Beck / AFP via Getty Images

Question: On what map is Lithuania a neighbor of China, Poland lies next to Brazil, and Morocco and Yemen touch?

Answer: The Inglehart-Welzel World Cultural Map. To be precise, the 2017 map. Because on the 2020 version, each of those pairs has drifted apart significantly.

These are not, strictly speaking, maps but rather scatterplot diagrams. Each dot represents a country, the position of which is based on how it ranks on two different values (discussed below). The dots are corralled together into geo-cultural groups:

Catholic Europe, which comprises countries as diverse and far apart as Hungary and Andorra

Protestant Europe, taking in both Iceland and Germany

The Orthodox world, from Belarus all the way to Armenia

The three Baltic states

The English-speaking world, including both the U.S. and Northern Ireland

The huge African-Islamic world, ranging from Azerbaijan to South Africa

Latin America, which goes from Mexico to Argentina

South Asia, which comprises both India and Cyprus

The Confucian world, encompassing China and Japan.

The placement of the dots indicates cultural proximity or distance. Some countries from different groups can be more similar than other countries in the same group.

See the examples indicated above: cultural neighbors China and Lithuania belong to the Confucian and Baltic groups, respectively. Poland is part of Catholic Europe; its 2017 neighbor Brazil is in Latin America. Morocco and Yemen are closer culturally to Armenia, in the Orthodox group, than they are to Qatar, despite all belonging to the African-Islamic group.

Credit: World Values Survey, public domain.

Creating a culture map

So, what exactly are the criteria used for plotting these dots in the first place?

These maps are part of the World Values Survey, first conducted by political scientist Ronald Inglehart in the late 1990s. With his colleague Christian Welzel, he produced an update in 2005. The WVS has been revised several times since, most recently in 2020.

The WVS asserts that there are two fundamental dimensions to cross-cultural variation across the world. These are used as the axes to plot the various countries on the diagram.

The X-axis measures survival versus self-expression values.

Survival values focus on economic and physical security. There is not much room for trust and tolerance of "others." Self-expression values prioritize well-being, quality of life, and self-expression. There is more room for tolerating ethnic, religious, and sexual minorities.

The Y-axis measures traditional versus secular-rational values.

Traditional values include deference to religion and parental authority as well as traditional social and family values. Societies that score high on traditions typically also are highly nationalistic. In more secular-rational societies, science and bureaucracy replace faith as the basis for authority. Secular-rational values include high tolerance of things like divorce, abortion, euthanasia, and suicide.

As indicated by the significant changes on the 2020 map, the cultural values of nations are not static:

Countries that move up on the map are shifting from traditional to more secular-rational values.

Countries that move to the right on the map are shifting from survival values to self-expression values.

And, of course, vice versa in both cases.

According to the authors of the map, changes in cultural outlook can be the result of socioeconomic changes - increasing levels of wealth, for example. But the religious and cultural heritage of each country also plays a part.

Credit: World Values Survey, public domain.

Some notable features of the 2020 map:

The Baltic group has been dissolved; Lithuania is now part of Catholic Europe, Estonia a lone Protestant island in a Catholic sea. More worryingly, Latvia seems to have dissolved completely.

In general, survival values are strongest in African-Islamic countries, self-expression values in Protestant Europe.

Traditional values are strongest in African-Islamic countries and Latin America, while secular values dominate in Confucian countries and Protestant Europe.

The United States is an atypical member of the English-speaking group, scoring much lower on both scales (that is to say, lower and more to the left). In other words, the U.S. is more into traditional and survival values than the group's other members.

Shifting attitudes don't just separate; they also unite. Belgium and the U.S. are now culture buddies, as are New Zealand and Iceland. Kazakhstan is virtually indistinguishable from Bosnia.

The Inglehart-Welzel map is not without its critics. It has been decried as Eurocentric, simplistic, and culturally essentialist (that is, the assumption that certain cultural characteristics are essential and fixed, and that some are superior to others). Which is, of course, a very self-expressive thing to say.
For more on these maps, on the WVS surveys, and on the methodology used, visit the World Values Survey. Strange Maps #1098 Got a strange map? Let me know at strangemaps@gmail.com.
Follow Strange Maps on Twitter and Facebook.

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Why the U.S. and Belgium are culture buddies

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Credit: Robyn Beck / AFP via Getty Images Question: On what map is Lithuania a neighbor of China, Poland lies next to Brazil, and Morocco and Yemen touch? Answer: The Inglehart-Welzel World Cultural Map. To be precise, the 2017 map. Because on the 2020 version, each of those pairs has drifted apart significantly.

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A Guardian article, looking at 35 traditions, skills, and activities that have been added to Unesco’s cultural heritage list. 

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A Guardian article, looking at 35 traditions, skills, and activities that have been added to Unesco’s cultural heritage list. 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE Use the article to get students thinking about culture and identity. How much can we learn about a culture from a tradition such as the 35 now added to the cultural heritage list? Do they agree with UNESCO that “Traditions define us”? What traditions define them?

Key terms Culture, Traditions

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Saunas to sourdough: Unesco updates culture heritage list

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Thirty-five entries from around the world added to 2020 list of national traditions

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A long BBC article, considering whether national boundaries need to be rethought to help cope with the pressures of mass-migration. 

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A long BBC article, considering whether national boundaries need to be rethought to help cope with the pressures of mass-migration. 

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UNPACKING THE SOURCE Why does Gaha Vince refer to political borders as ‘inventions’? How is the climate crisis putting pressure on the world’s current borders? What are the arguments for viewing the world as a ‘global commonwealth of humanity’ - and is this a viable mindshift for people to make? How and why does Vince suggest we rethink our ‘national pride’? Overall, ask students if they agree with the following statement: In order to create a more harmonious and fully functioning world, we need to “clear from our mind the idea of people being fixed to a location they were born in, as if it affects your value as a person or your rights as an individual.”

Key terms Borders, Cleanly defined, Invention, Livability limits, Meaningless, Controlling vs. managing, Reinvent, Power, Divisive tribalism

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With up to three billion people expected to be displaced by the effects of global warming by the end of the century, should it lead to a shift in the way we think about national borders, asks Gaia Vince?
I've had an obsession with maps ever since I first sought my bearings in Winnie the Pooh's "Hundred Aker Wood", trying to discover where was "nice for piknicks", and the locations of the characters' houses. My childhood was spent studying and drawing treasure maps, charting imaginary lands and plotting routes to faraway places I longed to visit.

Today, my home is plastered with the maps I've collected or been given - reminders of places that are special to me. By my desk, I have a large world map, the continents distinguished from the oceans by their mosaic of colours. Each coloured patch is a country, separated from its neighbour by a neat line drawn onto this two-dimensional representation of our world.

The borders are cleanly defined, ink separating nationalities destined for different fates. For me, these lines mark exciting possibilities, with the potential for exploration and adventure, to visit foreign cultures with different foods and languages. For others, they are prison walls that limit all possibilities.

Borders define our fate, our life expectancy, our identity, and so much more. Yet they are an invention just like the maps I used to draw. Our borders don't exist as immutable facets of the landscape, they are not natural parts of our planet, and were invented relatively recently.

It can be argued, however, that most of these imaginary lines are not fit for the world of the 21st Century with its soaring population, dramatic climate change and resource scarcity. Indeed, the idea of keeping foreign people out using borders is relatively recent. States used to be far more concerned about stopping people from leaving than preventing their arrival. They needed their labour and taxes, and emigration still poses a headache for many states.

There are, however, true human borders set not by politics or hereditary sovereigns, but by the physical properties of our planet. These planetary borders for our mammal species are defined by geography and climate. Humans cannot live in large numbers in Antarctica or in the Sahara Desert, for instance. As global temperatures increase, causing climate change, sea level rise and extreme weather over the coming decades, large parts of the world that are home to some of the biggest populations will become increasingly hard to live in. Coastlines, island states and major cities in the tropics will be among the hardest hit, according to predictions by climate scientists.

Unable to adapt to increasingly extreme conditions, millions - or even billions - of people will need to move.

Borders are often now a barrier to movement, but might that have to change in the future? (Credit: Nicolas Economou/Getty Images)

The most densely populated areas of the planet are clustered around the 25-26th north parallels which has traditionally been the latitude of most comfortable climate and fertile land. An estimated 279 million people are packed into this thin band of land, which cuts through countries including India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, China, the United States and Mexico.

But the conditions here are changing. On average, climate niches - the range of conditions at which species can normally exist - around the world are moving polewards at a pace of 1.15m (3.8ft) per day, although it's far faster in some places. Adapting to the changing climate will mean chasing our own shifting niche - which for much of human history has been within the temperature range -11C to 15C (12F to 59F) - as it migrates north from the equator. True livability limits are the borders we must worry about as the world warms over this century, bringing unbearable heat, drought, floods, fires, storms, and coastal erosion that make agriculture impossible and displace people.

Already record numbers of people are being forced to flee their homes with each passing year. In 2021, there were 89.3 million people, double the number forcibly displayed a decade ago, and in 2022 that number reached 100 million, with climate disasters displacing many more people than conflicts. Floods displaced 33 million people in Pakistan this year, while millions more in Africa have been affected by drought and the threat of famine, from the Horn of Africa to the continent's west coast.

UN High Commissioner for Refugees Filippo Grandi appealed to global leaders at the COP27 climate change conference to take bold action to tackle the humanitarian consequences of global warming. That change needs to be "transformational" according to the UNHRC. "We cannot leave millions of displaced people and their hosts to face the consequences of a changing climate alone," says Grandi.

Migrants contribute around 10% of global GDP or $6.7tn (£5.9tn)

Without action, hundreds of millions people will have to leave their homes by 2050, according some estimates. One study from 2020 predicts that by 2070, depending on scenarios of population growth and warming, " one to three billion people are projected to be left outside the climate conditions that have served humanity well over the past 6,000 years".

With so many people on the move, will this mean that invented political borders, ostensibly imposed for national security, become increasingly meaningless? The threat posed by climate change and its social repercussions dwarf those surrounding national security. Heatwaves already kill more people than those who die as a direct result of violence in wars.

Compounding this, the global population is still growing, particularly in some of the regions worst hit by climate change and poverty. Populations in Africa are set to almost triple by 2100, even as those elsewhere slow in growth. This means there will be a greater number of people in the very areas that are likely to be worst affected by extreme heat, drought and catastrophic storms. A greater number of people will also need food, water, power, housing and resources, just as these become ever harder to supply.

Meanwhile, most countries in the Global North are facing a demographic crisis in which people are not having enough babies to support an ageing population. Managed mass migration could thus help with many of the world's biggest problems, reducing the number of people living in poverty and climate devastation, and helping northern economies build their workforce.

But the main barrier is our system of borders - movement restrictions either imposed by someone's own state or by the states they wish to enter. Today just over 3% of the global population are international migrants. However, migrants contribute around 10% of global GDP or $6.7tn (£5.9tn) - some $3tn (£2.6tn) more than they would have produced in their origin countries. Some economists, such as Michael Clemens at the Center for Global Development in the US, calculate that enabling free movement could double global GDP. In addition, we would see an increase in cultural diversity, which studies show improves innovation. At a time when we have to solve unprecedented environmental and social challenges, it could be just what is needed.

After WW2, Britain encouraged migration from Commonwealth countries to help make up for labour shortages (Credit: Haywood Magee/Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

Removing borders or making them far more flexible, especially to labour flows, has the potential to improve humanity's resilience to the stresses and shocks of global climate change. Managed well, migration could benefit everyone.

What if we thought of the planet as a global commonwealth of humanity, in which people were free to move wherever they wanted? We'd need a new mechanism to manage global labour mobility far more effectively and efficiently - it is our biggest economic resource, after all. There are already wide-ranging global trade deals for the movement of other resources and products, but few that deal with labour movement.

Some 60% of the world's population is under the age of 40, half of these (and growing) under 20, and they will form most of the world's people for the rest of this century. Many of these young, energetic jobseekers are likely to be among those moving as the climate changes - will they add to economic growth to build sustainable societies, or will their talents be wasted?

The conversation about migration has become stuck on what ought to be allowed, rather than planning for what will occur. I believe nations need to move on from the idea of controlling migration to managing migration. At the very least, we need new mechanisms for lawful economic labour migration and mobility, and far better protection for those fleeing danger. Everyone could be offered an official form of United Nations citizenship in addition to their birth citizenship. For some people, such as those born in refugee camps, lacking papers, or citizens of small island states that will cease to exist later this century, UN citizenship may well be their only access to international recognition and assistance, even though citizenship is a human right. Passports could be issued on the back of this.

The political theorist David Held argued that we have outgrown our national boundaries through increasing globalisation, and now live in "overlapping communities of fate" from where we should form a cosmopolitan democracy at a global level. Today, we are experiencing a planetary crisis and I believe it is time to see ourselves as members of one globally dispersed species that must cooperate to survive. The scale of the climate crisis requires new global cooperation and, I believe, new international citizenship with global bodies for migration and for the biosphere - new authorities that are paid for by our taxes and to which nation states are accountable.

Currently, the United Nations has no executive powers over nation states, but that may well need to change if we are to bring down global temperatures, reduce the concentration of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere and restore the world's biodiversity. Global governance could also be useful in coordinating the vast new mobile workforce, perhaps using an international quota system to help allocate people to positions during the mass climate migrations of this century. But it would also face challenges created by bureaucracy, corruption and lobbying by powerful corporations.

Nations are communities that do things together - David Miller

Underpinning global governance, however, there also needs to be strong states. The tension between the desires and needs of the individual and society are very real for us all, and hard enough to reconcile when our society is a small, closely knit group, let alone the population of the whole planet. It's hard to care, for example, about a nameless, faceless stranger in a country you've never visited when making choices about your own life in a city thousands of miles from them. Most people find hard to balance the needs of a stranger one street away. Successful nation states help to manage this with structures and institutions that ensure a useful level of cooperation between strangers that nurtures a strong society in which we all can succeed. We willingly make small, daily sacrifices of time, energy and resources as individuals - paying taxes, for instance - to ensure our societies operate. Most of us do this because it's our society, our social family, our nation state.

The invention of the nation state has been a very powerful tool in enabling us to cooperate so well. As the political theorist David Miller put it: "Nations are communities that do things together."

It would seem unwise, then, to try to completely dismantle or abandon our existing geopolitical system in the brief time we have to prepare for the massive disruption that is expected to occur over the course of this century.

Only strong nation states will be capable of setting up the systems of governance that will help our species survive climate change. Only strong nation states will be able to manage a massive movement of migrants from different geographies and cultures to the native population.

It may instead require a blend between internationalism and nationalism.

In recent decades, the growth of globalisation has led to greater internationalism - a citizen of London may often feel more commonality with a citizen of Amsterdam or Taiwan than with someone from a small country town in Britain. This may not matter for many successful urbanites, but natives of more rural areas can feel left behind by their own country as once dominant industries decline, and social spaces and cultural traditions dwindle away. This creates resentment and fear of the kind that can lead to prejudice against immigrants, as was seen in parts of the UK during the Brexit debate.

Flooding in Bangladesh, India and Pakistan have displaced millions of people in 2022 (Credit: Biju Boro/AFP/Getty Images)

Open borders do not have to mean no borders or the abolition of nation states, though. It may be necessary to explore different types of nation states, with different governance options. Will states that are most affected by climate change buy or rent territory in safer places? Or will we see charter cities that operate under different jurisdictions and rules to the territory surrounding them, or floating states that build new territory on the waves?

It will take work to reinvent the concept of the nation state so it becomes more inclusive so that it strengthens local connections while forging greater and more equitable global networks. There are multiple benefits in encouraging commonality, a kinship with our fellows, based on our shared societal project, language and cultural works. These traits matter to people enough to make patriotism a powerful source of identity.

So why not also engender patriotic feeling about our nations' air, land and water, to encourage people to look after them.? One approach, since we all face environmental threats, might be to enlist military and other security institutions in the struggle against climate change. National service for younger citizens and immigrants to help with disaster relief, nature restoration, agricultural and social efforts could be another solidarity-creating step. And we may need to restore or invent new national traditions that are environmentally or socially beneficial, and for which citizens can feel pride and respect. These could include social groups and clubs that sing, create, play sport or perform together, and to which members can belong for life. These traditions can help maintain dignity in hard times and provide patriotic meaning for immigrants to assimilate to.

The new patriotic narrative could be about civic nationalism, based on the common good, with rights and duties, and a passionate cultural attachment to nature, and to protecting and conserving places of national (or international) importance.

Costa Rica, for instance, embraced the term pura vida, broadly meaning "good life", as a national ethos, mantra and identity. Its use became widespread from the 1970s, when refugees from the violent conflicts in neighbouring Guatemala, Nicaragua and El Salvador relocated to the country in large numbers. Costa Rica, a small Central American country that has no standing army and instead invests heavily in nature protection and restoration alongside social services such as health and education, used this outlook on life to help define its character and integrate new immigrants.

"A person choosing to use this phrase thus is not only alluding to this shared ideology and identity, he/she is at the same time constructing that identity by means of expressing it," says Anna Marie Trester of New York University. "Language is a very important tool of self-construction."

See these lines as fusions of cultural richness, transitions rather than barriers

This offers us a new way of looking at national pride. It doesn't have to mean seeing "your people" as better than other nations', nor does it mean a centralisation of meaning and power. Instead, it can involve the devolution of traditions and an appreciation of regionality and of the enormous cultural value of new citizens. The European Union is an example of supranational identity that allows citizens to feel they are European and identify with the values of the EU, but without having to give up their national identity.

A similar idea can apply within nations as well as between them. In the UK, for instance, London's Chinatown is rightly a much-visited tourist destination, as is Little India - they are part of the nation's identity, even though Chinese Brits and British Indians often face prejudice and socioeconomic disadvantage.

To earn national pride rather than suffer divisive tribalism, a nation needs to reduce inequality. The state must invest in the people for the people to feel invested in the state. That means putting social and environmental issues first in ways that are for the benefit of all, rather than a small tribe of global aristocrats. The Green New Deals proposed in the European Union and the US are examples of policies aimed at restoring economies, providing jobs and boosting dignity while helping unite people in a bigger social project of environmental transformation.

Try, if you will, to clear from your mind the idea of people being fixed to a location they were born in, as if it affects your value as a person or your rights as an individual. As if nationality were anything more than an arbitrary line drawn on a map. See instead these lines as fusions of cultural richness, transitions rather than barriers across the possibilities that Earth's lands offer us all.

* Gaia Vince is the author of Nomad Century: How to Survive the Climate Upheaval and a freelance science journalist and broadcaster.

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Is the world ready for mass migration due to climate change?

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With up to three billion people expected to be displaced by climate change by 2100, does there need to be a shift in the way we think about national borders, asks Gaia Vince?