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Story 1- Knowledge and Indigenous societies

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Story 1- Knowledge and Indigenous societies

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A member of Colombia’s indigenous Kogi people tells Sky News about a project to restore part of their original land back to them.

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Esperanto's vocabulary is mostly drawn from English, French, German, Greek, Italian, Latin, Polish, Russian and Yiddish, as these were the languages that Zamenhof was most familiar with. Grammatically, Esperanto was primarily influenced by European languages, but interestingly, some of Esperanto's innovations bear a striking resemblance to features found in some Asian languages, such as Chinese.

The promise of peace through a shared language has not yet caught on widely, but there are perhaps as many as 2 million Esperanto speakers worldwide. And it's still spreading, if slowly.

A language for all

In "Unua Libro," Zamenhof outlined Esperanto's 16 basic rules and provided a dictionary. This book was translated into more than a dozen languages, and at the beginning of each edition, Zamenhof permanently renounced all personal rights to his creation and declared Esperanto to be "the property of society."

Soon, Esperanto spread to Asia, North and South America, the Middle East and Africa. Starting in 1905, Esperanto speakers from around the world began gathering once a year to participate in the World Esperanto Congress to celebrate - and use - the language.

Between 1907 and his death in 1917, Zamenhof received 14 nominations for the Nobel Peace Prize, though he never won the award.

Struggles and successes

Ironically, life behind the Iron Curtain wasn't much easier for Esperanto speakers. In the Soviet Union, Esperantists were alleged to be part of an " international espionage organization." Many were persecuted and later perished during Stalin's Great Purge.

According to Hitler, Esperanto was evidence of a Jewish plot to take over the world. During the Third Reich, the Gestapo received specific orders to search for the descendants of Zamenhof. All three of his children died in the Holocaust - as did many Esperanto speakers.

Despite such events, in 1954 the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization, better known as UNESCO, passed a resolution recognizing - and entering into a relationship with - the Universal Esperanto Association, which opened the door for the Esperanto movement to be represented at UNESCO events pertaining to language.

In 1985, UNESCO passed a resolution encouraging countries to add Esperanto to their school curricula. For years, China has offered Esperanto as a foreign language option at several of its universities, one of which houses an Esperanto museum. There is now a program in interlinguistics offered at Adam Mickiewicz University in Poland that's taught in Esperanto.

Give peace a chance

Today, Esperanto is spoken by pockets of enthusiasts all around the world - including on Antarctica. There is now a wide array of free Esperanto resources online, including Duolingo, lernu!, the Complete Illustrated Dictionary of Esperanto, the Complete Manual of Esperanto Grammar and Google Translate.

Esperanto also has its own edition of Wikipedia, and at present, there are more Wikipedia entries written in Esperanto than articles in Danish, Greek or Welsh.

In Esperanto, the word "Esperanto" means "one who hopes." Some may argue that it is idealistic to believe that Esperanto could unite humanity, especially in the midst of another major war.

But even the most violent wars don't end without peace talks - which often require translators to interpret the languages of the opposing parties. Zamenhof wondered - and I do too - whether violence itself might be less common if a neutral language could help people bridge their divides.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

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A brief history of Esperanto, the 135-year-old language hated by Hitler and Stalin

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Esperanto's vocabulary is mostly drawn from English, French, German, Greek, Italian, Latin, Polish, Russian and Yiddish, as these were the languages that Zamenhof was most familiar with. Grammatically, Esperanto was primarily influenced by European languages, but interestingly, some of Esperanto's innovations bear a striking resemblance to features found in some Asian languages, such as Chinese.

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Many western countries have seen a decline of trust in government and politicians. But if you're one of the distrustful majority, that may not be such a bad thing.

In a 2021 survey, just 24.5% of respondents across OECD, countries said they trust political parties. National polls repeatedly show similar results, particularly in the wake of scandals involving politicians misbehaving. Longer-term systemic failures and incompetence in public services don't help either.

The OECD has offered some sound ideas on how to reinforce democracy and rebuild trust: be transparent about donations; increase citizen participation in the democratic process; and listen to people - especially the disadvantaged. I'd add that using proportional representation in elections could mitigate dissatisfaction with democracy.

But political trust is paradoxical. Dictators expect to be trusted unconditionally, too. So history has taught us that no one should be trusted with power unless it's limited in scope and tenure. Hence, democracies separate powers, hold elections and prosecute corrupt public servants. Democratic constitutions are premised on distrust of the powerful.

In a representative system, the many have entrusted the few with powers to make law and form a government. But this is a conditional trust, interwoven with scepticism about misconduct and abuses of power. Historical experience proves that a strong dose of distrust is good for democracy. Self-evidently, trustworthy leaders are preferable - but that doesn't mean trusting them unconditionally once they're in power.

Trust isn't a 'thing'

The OECD's concern about low trust implies that more must be better. But there's no optimal survey result, and no one should expect complete trust.

People talk metaphorically of "building" trust, but trust isn't a "thing" that's literally broken and rebuilt. It is relational and reciprocal. Political trust is about an underlying "deal" that keeps a society together and functioning. Since the 17th century, this has often been called a "social contract" by which those who govern are entrusted with powers, but only if they aim for the security and wellbeing of the people they represent. In return, people pay taxes and obey laws.

If the political elite wonder how to "rebuild trust", their first place to look is in the mirror.

An international survey asked people "how to improve democracy". The most frequent answers were about getting better politicians - and less often about changing the system. Responsiveness, competence, honesty and hence trustworthiness are qualities that people want in their leaders - although these are in the eye of the beholder. Supporters of Donald Trump often describe him as "honest", while others see him as an egregious liar. People disagree about whom to trust, and judgment will partly depend on which politicians promote the policies people prefer.

For some, getting better leaders would mean throwing out the present cohort and starting afresh. For others, it might only mean that those in office should pull their socks up.

The European Social Survey shows that people express more trust in political institutions when they perceive public processes and social outcomes to be fair and just.

But you probably didn't need a survey to understand that reducing inequality and democratising decision-making are good ideas. And if you've suffered discrimination and injustices, you'll be less trusting. Distrust may be based on reasonable assessments of actual events, rather than misinformation.

Government is a work in progress

As the world faces complex problems such as climate change, the AI revolution, inequality and armed conflict, competent and honest leaders and effective government are needed more than ever. But leadership and government are themselves problems about which people have debated for millennia, with still no universally agreed solution in sight. It's worth noting, for example, that in China, most people tell pollsters that they trust their government.

There may be disagreements about how best to govern, but all states practice, by necessity, some form of government. And the arts of government are ancient. Concern for a fundamental political trust is as old as Confucius's Analects. The Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius wrote eloquent notes to himself about being a better ruler.

As there's no handy administrative formula for political trust, such personal and political self-examination has to persist. Undoubtedly, citizens want an end to scandal and corruption. Laws and codes may prevent the worst behaviour, but they can't produce the best.

So, if you distrust politicians, you're not alone. Telling surveyors that you don't trust politicians is a gentle and valid form of political resistance. Politicians should pay heed, reflect on their own behaviour, and then take practical steps to deliver better public services - in other words, do a better job.

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Don't trust politicians? That may not be such a bad thing

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Political trust is paradoxical. No one should be entrusted with power without conditions.

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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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Ghostbots: AI versions of deceased loved ones could be a serious threat to mental health

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AI ghosts, the recreation of digital versions of the dead, may sound like a wonderful idea to those dealing with the pain of loss but this technology could seriously disrupt the grieving process

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Iranian women are prohibited from singing and dancing in public. Yet many are posting videos on social media dancing and singing along to singer Mehdi Yarrahi's song Roosarito (Your Veil). The wave of videos comes after Yarrahi's August 28 arrest. The Islamic Republic of Iran deemed the song "illegal and inconsistent with the ethical and societal norms of the Islamic community".

Roosarito is one of many anthems that have formed the soundtrack to the Woman, Life, Freedom movement that began with the killing of 22-year-old Kurdish Iranian Jina Mahsa Amini on September 16 2022 by the morality police. Amini had been arrested for insufficiently covering her hair, in line with Iran's compulsory veiling laws. Since then, the country has seen steady waves of protest for freedom and equality, including, but not limited to, women's rights.

In my research, I look at how music and dance can be forms of resistance and advocacy in human rights struggles, particularly feminist movements.

In Roosarito, Yarrahi advocates for Iranian women's right to optional veiling and reminds listeners that Iranian people "have sacrificed many dear lives in order to achieve freedom and democracy". A few months earlier, his song Soroode Zan (Woman's Anthem) was played and chanted as part of protests across the country.

Perhaps no song encompasses the Woman, Life, Freedom movement as much as Shervin Hajipour's Baraye (For). Hajipour wrote Baraye only days after Amini's death by compiling tweets that expressed Iranians' hopes "for" a future free of oppression and violence. Baraye was performed by artists around the world in an outpouring of support for Iranian people.

Social media channels have been flooded with images of women in Iran singing and dancing in defiance of the regime and its oppression. Most famously, a video of a group of five young women in Tehran dancing in public without the hijab to Calm Down, by Rema and Selena Gomez, inspired a TikTok trend. After the women were arrested, Iranians and non-Iranians began to replicate the dance and post their videos in solidarity.

A global sound

Iran is not the only place where music has been used to raise awareness of social justice issues. In light of the Taliban's efforts to remove women from public life in Afghanistan, two anonymous sisters recorded songs in their homes, hidden under burqas for their own protection. Explaining that their "voice is the voice of women who can't speak and protest", their songs about pain but also hope for change attracted worldwide attention.

In 2019, Chilean feminist collective LasTesis's song Un Violador en Tu Camino (A Rapist in Your Path) became the anthem of the Chilean struggle against state violence. From India and Turkey to the US and Venezuela, feminist movements used LasTesis's song in their protests for gender equality.

There is a strong sense of community and collaboration at the heart of feminist movements. As an art form that relies on participation and fosters community building, music can be valuable for such movements. Listeners are invited to sing along, share music, dance with their communities and make their own performances. Music's important role in many cultures makes it an effective medium for sharing powerful messages and rallying others to join a cause.

Artists have also used their music to bring attention to the causes of their communities. Peruvian singer Renata Flores writes, sings and raps in her native language of Quechua. Combining modern musical genres with traditional Andean instruments and music, she highlights the marginalisation of Indigenous people and their culture.

American-Syrian Mona Haydar rose to fame in 2017 with her song Hijabi. Haydar addresses both the Islamophobia and prejudice against Muslim women in western societies, as well as the misogyny they experience in Muslim communities.

Pakistani female rapper Eva B has also shot to fame. Rapping in Urdu and Balochi, she uses her songs to advocate for women's rights and to address broader issues of her community in Lyari, Karachi.

Music and social change

Music has long been a tool for social justice. From blues to hip-hop, entire musical genres have emerged from the experiences of black Americans in the US. The internet and streaming have made it easier for the music of a wider array of social movements to reach global audiences.

The recent addition of the " best song for social change " category to the Grammy Awards shows that the recording industry also recognises music's importance in activism. The inaugural prize went to none other than Hajipour's Baraye.
A playlist of songs mentioned in this article:
Music's power to inspire social change has not gone unnoticed by oppressive powers in charge. This is evident in Iran's persecution of Yarrahi, Hajipour, the five women from the dance video, Toomaj Salehi (a rapper detained in October 2022 for his support of the protests and sentenced to six years in prison), and Saman Yasin (a Kurdish-Iranian rapper sentenced to death in October 2022 for participating in the protests, currently awaiting a retrial of his case).

Many others who have used their voice and artistry in support of the Woman, Life, Freedom movement have been detained, tortured or worse. Most recently, protester Javad Rouhi died in custody under suspicious circumstances, following accounts of severe emotional and physical abuse by the authorities. Rouhi was arrested in September 2022 after dancing and chanting in the street as part of protests.

In Afghanistan, the Taliban have not only banned playing or listening to music, but in July 2023 burned confiscated musical instruments to prevent the "corruption" of citizens with music.

These attempts to suppress artists and the performance of music are a testament to the ability of song and dance to unite people for a collective cause, and to spread a message that is heard far beyond the affected communities.

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In Iran and beyond, arrests of singers and dancers show how music can be a powerful tool of resistance

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Social movements around the world use music in their struggle for freedom and equality.

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Paweł Sawicki, 42, has spent the last 16 years working at one of the most depressing places on earth: Auschwitz, the largest of Germany's concentration and extermination camps during WW2. Located in what was then occupied Poland, more than 1.1 million people died in this camp between 1940 and 1945.

Sawicki, who used to be a journalist, is responsible for the memorial and museum's social media accounts - he also gives guided tours and conducts interviews with survivors. We asked him what he thinks of people who take selfies at the site, why the memorial avoids TikTok and how he deals with Holocaust deniers.

VICE: How many neo-Nazi comments do you have to read during your average work day?
Paweł Sawicki: Every day, thousands of people visit the Auschwitz memorial, and we have over two million followers [across all social platforms]. Very few behave disrespectfully online or when visiting us.

There are about 5,000 new online comments every day, and I read every single one of them. Only a small few are from neo-Nazis or antisemites. In the last 24 hours, I've reported and blocked two Holocaust deniers. On a normal day, I'll block between five and 20 accounts. These aren't only Nazis, but often bots asking for money or if you want to get to know them.

Above all, I always notice how positive the comments usually are. People often just comment with emojis, like hearts. These are small gestures, but they show that people are still deeply moved by the fate of the people in Auschwitz.

Does everyone behave that well when they visit?
Most of them do. But a lot of people visit us every year. In 2019, there were 2.3 million visitors. With so many people, it's not surprising that some don't behave appropriately.

Sometimes, visitors simply don't have enough awareness of the history of this place. Some smoke and throw their cigarettes on the floor. But when I tell them not to smoke they stop. A few years ago, some visitors posted photos of themselves balancing on the train tracks. We publicly asked them not to take such photos because it's disrespectful.

Some teenagers who visit the memorial can't or don't want to show that the experience touches them, so they pretend it doesn't affect them, because classmates might otherwise interpret their grief as weakness. There are so many things to consider before jumping to conclusions, and I want to avoid that at all costs.

What do you think of people who pose or take selfies during their visit?
If someone posts a selfie with a thoughtful and respectful caption, I think that's OK. Selfies are a visual expression of our time. I think it's quite normal that people also want to document the places they visit in this way. But when I see visitors fooling around and making funny faces while taking photos, I don't think that's good. So I remind them of where they are.

On the other hand, there are also visitors who take professional photos with expensive cameras and then write an inappropriate caption. When I see those posts, I report them. There are more than 500,000 photos on Instagram under the hashtag #Auschwitz. Most of them are very respectful and show that visitors have really engaged with the place. I generally think it's good when photos of Auschwitz are shared and I often use these for lectures.

Are there any stories that really stick out?
Once, I published a photo of a young man who had died in Auschwitz. He was wearing the pin of the Spanish football club Real Sociedad on his jacket. I hadn't noticed, but our followers did. People started doing research and I was eventually told that there was a football club for German Jews in Prague in the 1920s. The club went to play San Sebastián and for the return leg, the San Sebastián players visited Prague, where the young man must have received the pin. This is not insanely emotional, but I think it's great to see how much commitment and interest our followers show, and how we can unravel more and more history with their help.

What was your most successful post?
For the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, I had planned to break the 750,000 follower mark on X [formerly known as Twitter]. We called for people to follow the Auschwitz memorial account and famous actors such as Mark Hamill, who played Luke Skywalker, shared our account. An incredible number of people joined and we ended up with over a million followers. Again, it was great to see how people can create something so beautiful together.

Has your work changed since Elon Musk, who calls himself a free speech absolutist, bought X?
Compared to the other platforms on which we are active, X has the highest number of problematic users. This is where I have the most work to do.

Since Elon Musk, I have to fight more against antisemitic comments or those that deny the Holocaust. Holocaust denial is forbidden according to X's guidelines and I always report such comments, but usually nothing happens.

I have also publicly criticised X for this poor moderation. I don't think it's right that this social platform allows people to spread hate speech - because that is exactly what Holocaust denial is, it has nothing to do with facts. In such moments, however, our followers also help us and report these accounts.

Why aren't you on TikTok?
Studies show that TikTok polarises its users. The algorithm is programmed so that it's more likely than other apps to display radical content again if you've previously been interested in such content. The Auschwitz memorial is not a topic that should drive people to extremes.

How much does your work drag you down emotionally?
Sometimes, very much. Every day, I see photos of people who were murdered. I look at the faces of children and babies. I'm a father of two sons and I can't understand how anyone could do anything to such defenceless beings.

In September, I wrote a post congratulating survivor Sam Weinreich on his 104th birthday. Just three days later, I had to inform our followers in a new post that he'd passed.

So I'm frequently confronted with death on many levels. But I am also honoured to be responsible for keeping the memory of these people alive. In fact, every two hours, I post a photo on X of a victim of Auschwitz who would have had a birthday that day.

What lessons do you think we can still learn from the memorial and take into the future?
I am convinced that we should understand Auschwitz as a warning for all of us. When I guide visitors through the memorial, many ask how the Germans could have allowed so much suffering. You can't imagine being capable of something like this. But they weren't monsters. It would be far too easy to label them this way.

People who worked in Auschwitz sat in their offices all day and went home to their families in the evening. They petted their dogs, taught their children to swim and greeted their neighbours. The challenge is to realise that even normal people can be capable of terrible actions when they are part of such an ideology. It was part of the Nazi ideology to dehumanise Jews; that is why they were able to commit such crimes.

We need to understand this so that something similar doesn't happen again in the future. The Auschwitz Memorial is here to re-humanise the victims of the Holocaust and keep their stories alive.

How has the recent violence in Israel and Palestine affected what you do? Does it resonate with the message you're trying to bring to the world?
The Memorial fulfills its mission of commemorating the victims and educating about the history of Auschwitz, regardless of changing international contexts. We do hope that memory and the lessons of this tragic human experiences can become a realm where one can seek keys to solving the most complex problems in our contemporary world.

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I'm the Social Media Manager at the Auschwitz Memorial

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"If someone posts a selfie with a thoughtful and respectful caption, I think that's OK. Selfies are a visual expression of our time."

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Your money, postcode, friends and family can make all the difference to how the criminal system treats you.

The New South Wales police recently scrapped a widely condemned program known as the Suspect Targeting Management Plan. It used algorithmic risk scores to single out "targets", some as young as ten years old, for police surveillance.

But similar programs remain in place. For instance, Corrective Services NSW uses a statistical assessment tool called LSI-R to predict whether prisoners will reoffend.

"High risk" prisoners receive "high intensity interventions", and may be denied parole. The risk scores are calculated from facts such as "criminal friends", family involvement in crime or drugs, financial problems, living in a "high crime neighbourhood" and frequent changes of address.

A predictive algorithm is a set of rules for computers (and sometimes people) to follow, based on patterns in data. Lots has been written about how algorithms discriminate against us, from biased search engines to health databases.

In my newly published book, Artificial Justice, I argue the use of tools that predict our behaviour based on factors like poverty or family background should worry us, too. If we are punished at all, it should be only for what we have done wrong, not for the cards we have been dealt.

Read more: Biased AI can be bad for your health - here's how to promote algorithmic fairness

Algorithms are watching us

Algorithms generate risk scores used in criminal justice systems all over the world. In the United Kingdom, the OASys (Offender Assessment System) is used as part of the pre-sentence information given to judges - it shapes bail, parole and sentencing decisions. In the United States, a tool known as COMPAS does something similar.

Risk scores are used beyond criminal justice, too, and they don't always need computers to generate them. A short survey known as the Opioid Risk Tool helps doctors in Australia and across the world decide whether to prescribe pain relief for acute and chronic illness, by predicting whether patients will misuse their medications.

Predictive algorithms literally save lives: they are used to allocate donor organs, triage patients and make urgent medical treatment decisions. But they can also create and sustain unjustified inequalities.

Imagine that we develop an algorithm - "CrimeBuster" - to help police patrol crime "hot spots". We use data that links crime to areas populated by lower income families. Since we cannot measure "crime" directly, we instead look at rates of arrest.

Yet the fact that arrest rates are high in these areas may just tell us that police spend more time patrolling them. If there is no justification for this practice of intensive policing, rolling out CrimeBuster would give these prejudices the status of policy.

Read more: The evidence is in: you can't link imprisonment to crime rates

Algorithms are judging us

The trouble deepens when we use statistics to make predictions about intentional action - the things that we choose to do.

This might be a prediction about whether someone will be a " toxic " employee, commit crimes or abuse drugs.

The factors that influence these predictions are rarely publicised. For the British sentencing algorithm OASys, they include whether someone has been the victim of domestic violence.

The American COMPAS system captures parental divorce and childhood abuse. The Opioid Risk Tool asks whether the patient's family has a history of substance abuse, and whether the patient (if female) has a history of " preadolescent sexual abuse ".

In each case, these facts make it more likely that someone will go to prison, miss out on medical treatment, and so on.

We all want to have the chance to make choices true to who we are, and meet our needs and goals. And we want to be afforded the same choices as other people, rather than be singled out as incapable of choosing well.

When we punish someone because of facts they can't easily influence, we do just this: we treat that person as if they simply cannot help but make bad choices.

We can't lock people up just in case

The problem isn't the use of algorithms per se. In the 19th century, Italian physician Cesare Lombroso argued we could identify "the born criminal" from physical characteristics - a misshapen skull, wide jaw, long limbs or big ears.

Not long after, British criminologist Charles Goring ran with this idea and argued that certain "defective" mental characteristics made "the fate of imprisonment" inevitable.

Algorithms simply make it much harder to see what's going on in the world of crime risk assessment.

But when we look, it turns out what's going on is something pretty similar to the Lombroso-Goring vision: we treat people as if they are fated to do wrong, and lock them up (or keep them locked up) just in case.

Public bodies should be required to publish the facts that inform the predictions behind such decisions. Machine learning should only be used if and to the extent that these publication requirements can be met. This makes it easier to have meaningful conversations about where to draw the line.

In the context of criminal justice, that line is clear. We should only deal out harsher penalties for bad behaviour, not other physical, mental or social characteristics. There are plenty of guidelines that take this approach, and this is the line that Australian institutions should toe.

Once penalties for their crime have been applied, prisoners should not be treated differently or locked up for longer because of their friends and family, their financial status or the way in which they've been treated at the hands of others.

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Algorithms that predict crime are watching - and judging us by the cards we've been dealt

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Tools used in the criminal justice system predict the risk of crime - but the scores are based on factors completely out of our control.

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On the morning of September 25, 2023, 35-year-old Samantha Jo Petersen struck an Amish buggy on a southeastern Minnesota road while driving her SUV back from work. Amid the strewn debris, two children lay dead. When police arrived, Sarah Beth Peterson, Samantha Jo's identical twin sister, greeted them. She quickly confessed to the tragic accident. Samantha was nowhere to be found. Unbeknownst to the authorities, the sisters had switched positions to spare Samantha, who was high on methamphetamines, from prison.

Thanks to a couple of drive-by witnesses, the ruse was eventually uncovered. The sisters, who had extensive criminal histories before the incident, now both face years in prison.

Samantha and Sarah aren't the only identical twins to have colluded in criminality. Prolific English poachers Albert and Ebenezer Fox planned and pursued all sorts of crimes in the late 1800s. The duo actually drove police to adopt fingerprinting to identify criminals. (Even identical twins have unique fingerprints.) During the 1960s, Ronnie and Reggie Kray featured prominently in the London gangster scene, committing murder, arson, and robbery, among many other misdeeds. In July 2003, Daniel and David DeWild teamed up to kill Daniel's wife after she had filed for divorce.

These identical twin criminals raise an intriguing question: If one twin turns to crime, is the other fated to do so as well? Scientists have distilled this question into a similar one: Is criminal behavior tied to one's genes?

The heritability of criminality

Over the years, scientists have used identical and fraternal twins to attempt to find an answer. In what's become known as the "twin method" in criminology circles, scientists compared the crime concordance rates of identical and same-sex fraternal twins. If identical twins are more likely than fraternal twins to both have a criminal past or be law-abiding, that would suggest that genes play a role in criminality. After all, identical twins are 100% genetically similar while fraternal twins are 50% similar.

Indeed, studies dating back to 1930 show that identical twins are more likely than fraternal twins to both be criminals or both be law-abiding, suggesting at least some genetic basis. Scientists behind those early studies often opined that criminal behavior was almost entirely heritable. Their findings should be taken with a grain of salt, however. Many of these researchers were staunch eugenicists, believing that the human gene pool could be improved by controlling who gets to reproduce. They often advocated sterilizing criminals and even offenders' children to reduce future crime rates. Some had Nazi ties.

Modern twin studies, conducted after the stain of eugenics was wiped away, have tended to find that the inclination to offend is around 50% heritable. While genes do predispose a person to criminality, environment and upbringing also play significant roles.

Comparing twins raised apart

Independent researcher Jay Joseph doesn't even buy that, however. In an extensive review, he argued that using the "twin method" to probe criminal behavior's genetic links is worthless. His main points? Identical twins are often raised to be more alike than fraternal twins. Moreover, identical twins have a tighter social bond.

"There is no reason to accept that the twin method records anything more than the greater environmental similarity... plus bias and methodological error," he wrote.

In Joseph's opinion, this leaves only one way to utilize twins to determine whether criminal behavior is tied to genes: Researchers must compare the criminal concordance between fraternal twins raised apart and identical twins raised apart.

Such a study has never been conducted, but with some effort, it could be. Between 1979 and 1990, researchers at the University of Minnesota tracked down 100 sets of twins who were separated in infancy and raised apart. They found that "on multiple measures of personality and temperament, occupational and leisure-time interests, and social attitudes, monozygotic [identical] twins reared apart are about as similar as are monozygotic twins reared together." The scientists didn't specifically assess each twin's criminal behavior, but they could have. Considering the subjects' striking similarities in personality, it is perhaps likely that some may have shared this dark connection. They, of course, weren't telling.

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What identical twin research reveals about criminality

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Is criminal behavior tied to one's genes? Scientists have made use of identical and fraternal twins to try to find an answer.

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Trust in science has declined. According to Pew, the share of Americans who say they have "a great deal of confidence" in scientists has fallen (from 39% in 2020 to 23% today). The view that science has positively impacted society has also tumbled (from 73% in 2019 to 57% today)

That is regrettable because as the authors of the new book Third Millennium Thinking point out, science is about more than creating microwaves, vaccines, and other modern-day niceties. It's the most successful system of knowledge gathering and problem-solving in human history.

Big Think recently spoke with the book's authors: Saul Perlmutter, a physicist and 2011 Nobel Laureate; John Campbell, a professor of philosophy at the University of California, Berkeley; and Robert MacCoun, a social psychologist and professor of law at Stanford University.

During our conversation, we discussed how the relationship between science and the public has changed, why people need to understand how science works, and how we can bring its practices and frameworks to bear on the challenges we face today.

Big Think: How did you three come to collaborate?

Perlmutter: About 10 years ago, I started to realize that people have a hard time making decisions in thoughtful, deliberate ways. It looks completely different from what I saw when a bunch of scientists try to make a decision or solve a problem.

I wondered, "Where do scientists learn these ideas?" We don't teach them in any science course that I know of. They are learned through apprenticeship and [professional] osmosis. So, I thought, "Well, maybe we could teach them."

I'd been in conversation for a while at that point with John, and as a philosopher, I thought he'd be a great person to bring to the table. We looked around for someone who could bring in the social psychology side of the story and found Rob, who was a professor and also in public policy, which was highly relevant.

Rebuilding trust in light of an artificial sun

Big Think: How has the relationship between science and the public changed recently?

MacCoun: I came of age in a golden era for science. People granted it enormous authority and respect. [But] as we wrapped the second millennium, some people started to become disenchanted with science.

They felt that maybe scientists had too much authority or weren't representing the views of everybody. Some philosophers and social scientists became skeptical of how privilege and power distorted scientific claims. We've seen it reach a point now where people are willfully choosing to believe things that are contrary to what science shows.

Campbell: I was at a cafe a while ago, and someone came up to me and said, "You don't want to sit outside like that. That's not the real sun. PG&E [Pacific Gas & Electric Company] has replaced it with an artificial sun. It's very damaging."

I think people often have this attitude that science today is a kind of magic. Scientists can do anything. They can replace the sun. They can inject robots into your bloodstream that will make you do whatever they want. The only question [for them]: Are scientists on our side?

That's not a good way to think about it. Everybody should have an entry-level understanding of how science gets done. Science is not rocket science.

Perlmutter: The loss of trust in science is part of the problem of figuring out some way to build a trust economy. What can you base your sense of what is and isn't real on? How can you weave together information that you can trust and feel some confidence in?

Those kinds of things are what we hope people will get out of the book: a sense of things you can weave together to get a probabilistic sense of trust in the world.

Consider the opposite

Big Think: Can we dig deeper into how scientists use probabilistic thinking?

Perlmutter: Even when we're talking about cold, hard facts, you can't always answer questions with an experiment to get a yes or no answer. [Instead], we end up getting a probabilistic answer. There's a 97% chance that the measurement is giving you this result, [so] if you did it 100 times, it'll be wrong three of those times. What we do is put together lots of those different measurements until we build up some confidence.

However, partial information can be very powerful. If you always insisted on something being true or not, you couldn't even cross the street. Nobody can guarantee you that you'll always cross safely. But the odds are one in a million you'll be killed, so you cross.

We already use [probabilistic thinking]. It's just that we don't carry it through to other aspects of our lives where we should be using it.

MacCoun: People shouldn't be intimidated by the word probabilistic either. You don't have to do calculations. It can involve just acknowledging shades of gray.

I worked for a long time on what we know about countries that liberalize their drug laws and allow commercial sales of recreational drugs. People would always ask, "Is legalization the answer or not?" I'd answer, "Well, the evidence is nuanced. There are trade-offs involved and some risks." But they would always press me, "No, what do you really think?"

[These things] require us to act like grown-ups and recognize that there's a lot of uncertainty in the world. We still have to act, but we can't pretend that things are all black and white.

Big Think: How might we more effectively use probabilistic thinking outside of science?

Campbell: One thing we've forgotten - or perhaps never learned - is how to have debates among ourselves. We think of debates like fencing matches. You drive the other guy into the corner, pin them, and that's victory. Glory to you!

If you're thinking probabilistically, you say, "Well, though I think this is right, I admit the possibility that I might be wrong." You also recognize that we have biases that can contribute to us being fallible. We have to learn techniques for screening these biases the same way scientists need it when they do peer-review. We need that in everyday life.

It's not enough to just have these habits of mind; you have to have habits of community, too.
Robert MacCoun

MacCoun: One strategy we talk about in the book is called "consider the opposite." It's where you simply imagine that the opposite of what you believe is true. If you go through the exercise, even quickly, you realize that there are reasons why [others might believe it].

It's not enough to just have these habits of mind; you have to have habits of community, too. You have to put yourself in a community of people who will challenge you in a constructive, friendly way because it's very hard to catch ourselves in our bad thinking.

Campbell: I think we need that because, at the moment, we live in a winner-takes-all [culture]. We're supposed to get fired up about a particular issue and then go meet the opposition and face them down. That's not sustainable. We just desperately need to have some kind of platform of general understanding in the community about how we go about debating.

No one gets it right 100% of the time

Big Think: How can the scientific mindset help us be more comfortable with being wrong?

Perlmutter: The scientist's model is to present a result, all the things that could be wrong with it, and the probability that it's right or wrong. That gives you a lot of room for saving face because it shows you were calibrated and knew what you were doing.

That's where your self-respect should come from, and science provides a nice way to be a dignified and respected person who still (occasionally) gets things wrong.

Campbell: It's also important for you to not feel that your identity as a person is invested in the position for which you're arguing. That makes it humiliating to be wrong.

It's particularly obvious when you think about values. We all have to accept that there might be something wrong [with our values] and be open to debate and discussion on the topic. Whereas if you feel this is my personality, this is who I am, then you can't let go. You get too invested.

Weaving facts and values together

Big Think: In your book, you say we need to find ways to weave facts and values together to move forward. Why?

MacCoun: Part of the arrogance of scientists in the late 20th century was when they started making pronouncements on public policy as if - because they had a mastery of the facts - their position on the issue was the correct one. But, of course, they were also bringing their values into play.

Values are important, and scientists can help us think about them, but it's important to recognize that the special authority of science is not that it weighs in on what values are correct or not. That's something citizens have to do for themselves in a free society.

Perlmutter: In fact, we want scientists to help people recognize how to reach their values and, once they've chosen which to prioritize, understand what the constraints are. You want the good experts helping as much as possible on the factual part and good public representatives to be helping to sort out the values.

Campbell: It's important to add that we should think of values as uncertain as anything else. There's no reason to think you're going to get it 100% right. We're doing our best to patch a picture of what we ought to be striving for. That's important but also open to debate. It's not something you can lay down and say, "These things will hold fast forever." Nothing in human life is like that.

We have the capability of solving seemingly intractable problems [...]. We have a real, open choice to do something quite positive.
Saul Perlmutter

Perlmutter: It's surprisingly helpful for people to discuss values together. John, you've made the case well that [a lot of] progress has been because people have debated values together and rethought their positions.

Campbell: George Orwell started his career as a colonial officer. Then he saw what was happening to the people who were being colonized. This guy was hanged, and he really shouldn't have been. What happened in that case was clearly wrong.

So we learn and we can teach each other. If I think colonialism is just fine and you want to show me why it's wrong, then a good place to start would be with some vivid examples of where you see things going wrong. If I agree that that's not okay, then we can walk back from the particular case to general moral principles.

MacCoun: It's worth noting that the book is not anti-conflict. We recognize that conflicts have played important roles in political and scientific development. It's just that there are more constructive ways of working through conflict. A lot of these new techniques of deliberation we talk about in the book harness ways for people to acknowledge and champion their values but also hear each other out and explore.

Big Think: Is there a message you'd like to leave our readers with?

Perlmutter: One thing we tried to emphasize is why we think it's important for people to develop these capabilities together. We live in an interesting time in history where people see threats everywhere. But people aren't as aware of our amazing accomplishments. [For instance], we've taken the world from one of majority poverty to one where poverty is a much, much smaller segment of the population.

We have the capability of solving seemingly intractable problems, like hunger, climate change, or the next pandemic. That's the reason to put so much effort into this game right now. We have a real, open choice to do something quite positive.

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How scientific thinking can fix collaboration in a mixed-up world

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Saul Perlmutter, John Campbell, and Robert MacCoun explain how scientific thinking can help us solve today's seemingly intractable challenges.