Johansen.se

Everyone has a favourite band, or a favourite composer, or a favourite song. There is some music which speaks to you, deeply; and other music which might be the current big hit, but you can only hear nails on a chalkboard.

Every time a major artist releases their new album, the critics are there to tell you exactly how the artist got it right – or how they got it wrong. And the fans are there to tell the critic how they got it right or wrong, in turn.

So if we all have our own opinions on music, is it ever possible to judge it objectively? Or are we all subject to our subjective disagreements forever?

We asked five music experts to let us know what they thought. Here’s what they had to say.

Read more:
Taylor Swift’s The Tortured Poets Department and the art of melodrama

Is it possible to ‘obectively’ judge music? Three out of five experts said ‘yes’

Read more:
Why do we stop exploring new music as we get older? Läs mer…

People are living longer lives compared to previous generations but, over the last few decades, there has been a hidden shift — they are passing away at increasingly similar ages.

This is a trend captured by the Gini Index, also called the Gini Coefficient. Should everyone pass away at the same age, the Gini Index would be zero. This makes the Gini Index a measure of equality, and a Gini Index of one represents inequality.

The Gini Index was developed by Italian statistician Corrado Gini. It is used primarily to study people’s incomes, and to measure inequality.

The Gini Index, typically associated with wealth distribution, reflects the degree of inequality within a society. In the context of life expectancy, lifespan serves as the new wealth — the Gini Index quantifies the disparity between lifespans, wealth distribution and equality.

Integrating the Gini Index with the expected lifespan yields the Gini Mean Difference (GMD).

A global shift

Breakthroughs in modern medicine are pushing the boundaries of human longevity, with life expectancy climbing globally, at different rates. The universal lifespan Gini Index hovers around 0.10 — 0.30 across the world, reflecting a reduction in lifespan inequality.

A map showing life expectancy in countries globally in 2021.
(S. Dattani, L. Rodés-Guirao, H. Ritchie, E. Ortiz-Ospina & M. Roser), CC BY

But individuals are passing away closer to the average age of mortality. This intriguing trend is measured by the Gini Index, reflecting a noticeable global shift with regional nuances.

Some regions show a tighter cluster of deaths around the average age of death than some other regions. While any two regions may show similar expected average ages of death, it is the distribution of ages at death that is of note. One region may show a clustering of deaths around the expected age, while in another, people may pass away across a broader range of ages.

The GMD predicts the anticipated age gap between two random individuals departing this world at a given moment in time in a specific location, and is used to calculate the Gini Index.

Analyzing the data

To validate these findings, our research team used data from the Human Mortality Database, giving us the number of people dying at various ages during specific time frames. This allowed us to calculate the Gini Index and GMD for select countries with available data.

The data we analysed covers total deaths across age categories from 47 countries spanning various decades. Notable findings from six countries — Canada, the United States, the Netherlands, Japan, Poland and Italy — reveal a universal rise in expected lifespan but a significant decrease in the Gini Index over time, indicating clustering of ages at death around the expected age of death.

Japan and Italy showed the lowest Gini Index (0.09) and GMD (14 years) in the 2010s, while the U.S. showed the highest Gini Index (0.13) and GMD (20 years) during the same period. In the late 1800s, the Netherlands and Italy had GMDs higher than expected lifespan and Gini Indexes higher than 0.5, suggesting the expected difference between the ages in two random deaths was higher than the expected lifespan itself.

Based on this analysis, we have identified a reason for optimism: the Gini Index has shown a consistent decrease over time. This implies that on some level, we anticipate people living longer lives and avoiding premature deaths.

Moving forward, there are several scenarios. The Gini Index may continue its decline, resulting in reduced lifespan inequality. Alternatively, it could stabilize at its current levels, or even worsen, leading to a resurgence in lifespan inequality. Läs mer…

A bridge in Baltimore collapsing, a door falling off an airplane and antisemitism — what do they have in common? In recent months, Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (DEI) has been blamed for all three.

This may seem a little baffling. In fact, when I tell this to friends who don’t keep up with these issues, they’re stunned. How, they want to know, is DEI being blamed for these issues? And why would anyone do so?

They’re right to be skeptical: these explanations really are quite terrible. But there are reasons why the term DEI is leaping to the forefront of the culture war, pushed by the far right into every conversation possible.

In right-wing rhetoric, the DEI label is often used to play upon racial resentments. It is increasingly appropriated as a racist dog whistle used to question and undermine the positions, qualifications and abilities of racialized people.

A dog whistle is a term that also does something else — something less socially acceptable — below the surface. It is a coded, deniable bit of language that allows people to communicate ideas that would be too offensive if done explicitly.

As podcaster Peter Shamshiri puts it:

“What they’re doing is trying to create a framework whereby any person of colour’s position is inherently suspect…It’s about building a sociocultural mechanism for reinforcing the existing hierarchy.”

Co-opting terms

There’s nothing new about this sort of effort. But the way DEI is used to play into racist sentiments is uniquely powerful, and more potent than other culture war terms.

Condemnations of critical race theory played a key role in educational gag orders and book bans in states like Florida. But that is limited to educational contexts.

“Affirmative action” is also used to attack members of underrepresented groups who find their way into desirable positions, but it’s no good for book bans. Other terms like “woke,” “snowflake” and “politically correct” can readily be used to discredit anti-racist activists, but they can’t be easily applied to someone who integrates into a white workplace.

Students protest Gov. Ron DeSantis’s education policies at the University of South Florida in Tampa, Fla. in February 2023.
(Ivy Ceballo/Tampa Bay Times via AP)

DEI can cover all of these. Those books you don’t like? Blame DEI initiatives. Black people getting prestigious jobs? DEI is at fault. Annoying young student activists? Too much DEI on university campuses. It’s hard to find a hot-button issue or social context where DEI can’t be hurled as a term of abuse to undermine marginalized people.

And that’s just what has happened. A Republican lawmaker in Utah blamed the Baltimore bridge collapse on DEI saying, “this is what happens when you have governors who prioritize diversity over the wellbeing and security of citizens.” Others called the city’s Black mayor, Brandon Scott, a “DEI mayor.”

In response to a door falling off a Boeing plane, Elon Musk asked Twitter users: “Do you want to fly in an airplane where they prioritized DEI hiring over your safety?”

Harvard professor Alan Dershowitz claimed that a “DEI bureaucracy has become a central contributor to anti-Jewish attitudes on campuses.”

Read more:
University equity and racial justice strategies urgently need to address antisemitism

However, DEI is more than just a convenient catch-all term for culture war flashpoints. This rhetoric is having a real effect on how various institutions run. Universities in Texas and Florida have cut dozens of jobs in response to state bans on DEI initiatives.

DEI as a dog whistle

When people blame DEI for airplane doors coming off, or a bridge collapsing, they are really blaming Black people without saying so explicitly. As American TV host Joy Reid noted:

“At this point it’s evident what they mean by ‘DEI,’ right? It means Black people… It’s not fashionable to be openly racist anymore in America… so referring to a Black mayor as a DEI mayor gets the point across.”

Baltimore Mayor Scott was even more pointed:

“We know what these folks really want to say when they say DEI mayor… They really want to say the N-word.”

Dog whistles require two meanings. The surface, more acceptable one, is widely understood; the other is the less acceptable one, hidden because it needs to be.

Scott explained the hidden meaning of “DEI” in racist contexts. But the surface one matters too because it provides good cover to argue that one’s rhetoric is not racially charged. The Utah lawmaker was able to insist that he meant officials had been more concerned with DEI programs than with safety, and that’s the very same line that was used about Boeing. It’s more acceptable to criticize a program or corporation than it is to criticize people for their race.

Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott holds a news conference on March 26, 2024 after a container ship collided with the Francis Scott Key Bridge.
(Kaitlin Newman/The Baltimore Banner via AP)

Another reason DEI is especially effective as cover for racist views is because even anti-racists can find it objectionable. Workplace DEI training sessions are widespread, and face criticism from across the political spectrum.

On the right, the concern is that white people are being made to feel guilty. On the left, it’s that these sessions can be a way for organizations to virtue signal while avoiding effective action.

DEI, then, can be seen as a rhetorical Swiss Army knife of weaponized language. It can be used to blame racialized people for doors falling off airplanes, history classes, bridges collapsing, student activism or simply for getting jobs. And it will carry with it the hostility that people from all along the political spectrum feel towards DEI training programs.

All the while, it will also be dog whistling the very worst racist sentiments. Swiss army knives are useful, but in the wrong hands they can be dangerous. We need to recognize the very real dangers of how DEI is being used. Läs mer…

The Himalayas are home to a vast diversity of species, consisting of 10,000 vascular plants, 979 birds and 300 mammals, including the snow leopard, the red panda, the Himalayan tahr and the Himalayan monal.

The region represents a huge mountain system extending 2,400 kilometres across Nepal, India, Bhutan, Pakistan, China, Myanmar and Afghanistan. It has a number of climate types and ecological zones, from tropical to alpine ecosystems including ice and rocks in the uppermost zone. All these ecological zones are compressed within a short elevation span.

The Himalayas — along with the related Tibetan Plateau — provide considerable ecosystem services and as the “third pole” are also the source of most of Asia’s major rivers, a fact that has earned it the additional moniker of “the world’s water tower.”

It is of urgent importance that these fragile ecosystems are conserved and protected.

Flourishing diversity

How do mountains, and the Himalayas specifically, support such biodiversity? Put simply, the steep differences in elevation provide unusually large temperature bands — and environmental conditions — that help support a diversity of life.

In the central Himalayas, the average temperature changes by about one degree Celsius every 190 metres up or down. By comparison, in the northern hemisphere, the same degree of temperature change occurs roughly every 150 kilometres — and every 197 kilometres in the southern hemisphere — along a north-south line.

A video showing the Himalayan monal.

While hiking on the mountains, one can easily notice the distinct changes in vegetation within a fairly small change in elevation. The biodiversity changes are most noticeable where the treeline gives way to alpine grasslands.

During the course of our recent comprehensive field study in Kangchenjunga, Nepal we recorded approximately 4,170 trees belonging to 126 different species every 100 metres in elevation change from 80 to 4,200 metres above sea level. We also found that the middle elevations from 1,000 to 3,000 metres above sea level had higher levels of biodiversity compared with the mountain top and bottom.

Such high diversity is the result of a dynamic balance between warm temperatures and abundant precipitation.

Forests as carbon sinks

Trees are one of the main carbon sinks in the Himalayas, storing about 62 per cent of total forest carbon. The cooler forest soils in the northern biomes, including boreal forest and tundra, allow for further carbon storage as undecomposed organic matter.

Biomass represents the overall carbon stored in plants.

Our study found that communities with higher plant diversity produce more biomass and thus store more carbon. Different species have different needs and ways of using resources such as water, sunlight and nutrients.

A snow leopard is pictured in the mountains of the Indian Himalayas.
(Shutterstock)

In species-rich communities, each one can more efficiently profit from the resources available, leading to higher exploitation and larger biomass accumulation. For example, where there are many different tree species, each can occupy different parts of the canopy and their roots can utilize different soil layers, reducing the competition among individual trees.

At higher elevations, where the climate is harsh and nutrients are scarce, species can help each other rather than compete for resources. This co-operation, called facilitation, can promote positive species interactions and enhance growth and biomass production.

The dilemma

Like other regions of the Earth, the Himalayas are currently exposed to a rise in temperature. The warming rate in this area is three times higher than the global average, with an estimated increase of 0.6 C per decade.

These warming conditions force many species to move towards cooler sites at higher elevations. However, this movement can increase competition for resources and space, particularly at higher elevations, leading to biodiversity risks.

Human-caused climate warming and increasing deforestation have also fuelled an invasion of non-native species. For example, the crofton weed poses a real risk to the native Himalayan pine trees (Pinus roxburghii).

The young fruit buds of the Pinus roxburghii.
(Shutterstock)

In the long run, the exclusion of native and dominant species could dramatically impact people’s livelihood and biomass accumulation in local forests.

The local human communities of the Himalayas rely largely on natural resources. As such, the desired and urgent priority of biodiversity conservation can be seen as at odds with local development.

It is crucial to adopt respectful approaches that consider both the ecological needs of these fragile ecosystems and the economic interests — and socio-cultural perspectives — of the people who live there. Solutions must originate from a serious and deep discussion among the major players, representing global and local interests.

Himalayan biodiversity matters

The Himalayas are one of 36 biodiversity hotspots, with around 3,160 rare, endemic and sensitive plant varieties that hold special medicinal properties.

Conserving its biodiversity is crucial in maintaining a wide range of ecosystem services. The mountains help lessen the amount of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere by sequestering carbon within plant biomass and is home to a beautiful array of wildlife.

A red panda is photographed eating leaves in a tree.
(Shutterstock)

The Convention on Biological Diversity, an international organization dedicated to preserving biodiversity worldwide, has identified the Himalayas as one of its priorities.

By preserving this magnificent and delicate landscape, we can ensure that future generations can enjoy its beauty and wilderness and benefit from the services that these ecosystems provide. Thus, the conservation of biodiversity in the Himalayas is a matter of concern for both global and local communities. Läs mer…

When New Zealanders commemorate Anzac Day on April 25, it’s not only to honour the soldiers who lost their lives in World War I and subsequent conflicts, but also to mark a defining event for national identity.

The battle of Gallipoli against the Ottoman Empire, the story goes, was where the young nation passed its first test of courage and determination.

The question of why New Zealand soldiers ended up on Turkish beaches in April 1915 is typically not part of these commemorations. Rather, our collective memories begin with the moment of the early morning landing.

Consider, for example, the timing of the Anzac Day dawn service, or the Museum of New Zealand-Te Papa Tongarewa’s exhibition, Gallipoli: The Scale of Our War, which plunges visitors straight into the action.

This selective retelling of history is necessary for the “coming of age” narrative to work. It helps conceal that Britain was pursuing its own colonial ambitions against the Ottomans, and that New Zealand took part in World War I as “a member of the British club”, as historian Ian McGibbon puts it, loyally devoted to the imperial cause.

Against the background of the recent horrors and escalating tensions in the Middle East, however, it seems more important than ever to make these silences speak in our commemorations of Gallipoli.

Where collective memory begins: dawn service at the Auckland War Memorial Museum cenotaph.
Getty Images

Britain’s colonial interests

While the causes of World War I are complex and multifaceted, historians have extensively documented that Britain had long seen parts of the decaying Ottoman Empire as prey for colonial expansion. Already, in the late 1800s, Britain had taken control of Cyprus and Egypt.

Turkey’s Middle Eastern possessions were of interest to the government in London because they provided not only a land route to the colony in India, but also rich oil reserves.

Hence, when the Ottoman Empire signed an alliance with Germany – mainly to guard against Russian territorial aspirations – and somewhat reluctantly entered World War I, the British did not lament this as a diplomatic defeat.

Read more:
New lessons about old wars: keeping the complex story of Anzac Day relevant in the 21st century

“The decrepit Ottoman Empire was more useful to them as a victim than as a dependent ally,” as the late historian Michael Howard explained.

The day after Britain declared war on the Ottomans on November 5 1914, British troops attacked Basra (in today’s southern Iraq) to secure nearby oil facilities.

In the following months, the Triple Entente of Britain, France and Russia won a number of easy victories, which fuelled the belief the Turkish military was weak. This in turn led Britain to devise a plan to launch a direct strike on Constantinople, the Ottoman capital.

First, however, they had to clear the Gallipoli peninsula of enemy defences. And who better suited to this task than the first convoy of Anzac troops, just a short distance away in Egypt after passing through the Suez Canal?

Australian, British, New Zealand and Indian cameliers in Palestine during World War I.

Palestine: a complex tangle of pledges

As is well known, war planners in London had underestimated the enemy’s military strength. The battle of Gallipoli ended in a Turkish victory over Britain and its allies. Nevertheless, fortunes eventually turned against the Ottoman Empire.

Although a whole century has gone by, British diplomatic efforts and secret agreements that were meant to accelerate the collapse of the Ottoman Empire still shape the Middle East today.

Read more:
A century on, the Balfour Declaration still shapes Palestinians’ everyday lives

Most significantly, it is the violent conflict over Palestine that can be traced back to colonial power dealings during World War I. The crux of the problem is that Britain affirmed three irreconcilable wartime commitments in relation to Palestine.

First, in the hope of initiating an Arab revolt against Ottoman rule, the British made promises to Sharif Husayn, the emir of Mecca, about the creation of an independent Arab kingdom.

Second, in the Sykes-Picot Agreement, which divided the Ottomans’ Arab lands into British and French spheres of interest, Palestine was designated for international administration.

Third, in the Balfour Declaration
of November 1917, the British government pledged support for a “Jewish national home” in Palestine – a move motivated by a mixture of realpolitik and Biblical romanticism.

In the end, it was the third commitment that turned out to be the most enduring.

Lord Balfour inspecting troops at York Cathedral during World War I.
Getty Images

How should we remember Gallipoli?

Amid this complex history, we must not forget the thousands of New Zealand soldiers who died in World War I – men who had either volunteered, expecting a quick and heroic war, or served as draftees.

However, we need to have a public discussion about whether it is still appropriate for our commemorations to skip over the question of why these men fought in Europe and the Mediterranean.

Facing up to this question not only makes us aware of our responsibilities towards the Middle East problem, but it can also serve as a lesson for the future – not to blindly follow great powers into their military adventures.

Read more:
Less than illustrious: remembering the Anzacs means also not forgetting some committed war crimes Läs mer…

Canada has prided itself on being a welcoming haven for students from around the world. But beneath the surface of this inclusive narrative, a troubling resentment is brewing.

A wave of anti-immigrant rhetoric has cast a shadow over international students, turning their pursuit of knowledge and cultural exchange into a complex challenge. The surge in hate crimes against South Asians in Waterloo Region aligns with the significant increase in the number of international students in Canada, especially those from India.

Advocates argue that anti-immigrant sentiments, worsened by economic struggles like housing and job shortages, could be fuelling this rise in hate crimes. The crisis highlights the interconnectedness of social, economic and demographic factors in shaping community dynamics and attitudes towards immigrants.

Read more:
What’s behind the dramatic shift in Canadian public opinion about immigration levels?

Numbers rising

With the rise of international student enrolment in Canada, educational institutions and local communities, through enhanced engagement, tend to foster cultural diversity with international students that reap mutual benefits.

Nevertheless, the increasing numbers of international students have led to growing concerns about the capacity of educational institutions to adequately support and integrate them.

Over the past year, the federal government has announced changes to the international student program — most notably, a two-year cap on international student permit applications. These changes reflect the government’s effort to stabilize student numbers.

Some critics have argued that the strain on infrastructure and other related issues caused by the influx of international students could be solved by limiting immigration. Others disagree.

Reducing immigration numbers is likely a knee-jerk reaction to soften the brewing tension. Instead, I believe we should break down the dynamics of the issue and provide strategic interventions that go beyond simply closing borders.

Read more:
International students cap falsely blames them for Canada’s housing and health-care woes

Double-edged sword of policy shift

Recent announcements from the Canadian government signal a shift in policy regarding the approval of study permits for international students. This policy change appears to have been spurred by the surge in enrolments at colleges like Conestoga in southwestern Ontario that Federal Immigration Minister Marc Miller says have been motivated largely by financial considerations.

But experts argue that both public and private institutions benefit financially from the increase in enrolment numbers despite the government laying most of the blame on “bad actors” at private colleges.

As the debate unfolds about the implications of reducing international student permits, it’s worth noting there are positive and negative impacts of the government cap.

On one hand, capping international student study permits could provide relief for major student destinations like the Greater Toronto Area, which is currently struggling with resource and infrastructure issues.

Read more:
Low funding for universities puts students at risk for cycles of poverty, especially in the wake of COVID-19

It may also address concerns about job competition and housing shortages, potentially easing economic resentment and anxieties among certain segments of the population in those cities.

However, the decrease in numbers could lead to a decline in revenue for educational institutions and businesses that rely on student spending in other communities.

These students contribute substantially to the economy through their tuition fees, expenditures related to accommodation and total spending on goods and services. The economic contributions made by international students shouldn’t be overlooked.

Restricting international student numbers could also end up tarnishing Canada’s global reputation as a welcoming and inclusive destination. This could have long-term implications for the country’s competitiveness in the global education market and its ability to attract top talent from around the world.

An international student from Mexico studying at the University of Calgary rests on a bench on campus in Calgary in August 2023.
THE CANADIAN PRESS/Jeff McIntosh

Solutions

Reducing international student numbers does not necessarily address the challenges faced in Canada, but instead oversimplifies a complex issue.

The International Student Program, which was revitalized in 2014 under the previous federal Conservative government, aimed to attract these students and their spending dollars, but clearly didn’t anticipate these contemporary challenges.

Rather than focusing solely on numerical reductions, a strategic approach is crucial for a sustainable solution.

Some provinces like Ontario have a well-established reputation as a destination for international students, but the increased numbers of students in these provinces has led to challenges that cannot be ignored.

Read more:
The importance of international students to Atlantic Canada

To tackle these issues, the government must reconsider their marketing strategies and actively promote the advantages of studying in other provinces. Targeted marketing campaigns can be launched to raise awareness among prospective international students about the benefits of studying in various provinces beyond major cities.

This may include promoting the affordability of living and studying in smaller cities and towns, as well as showcasing the quality of education and support services available in these areas.

Students walk across campus at Western University in London, Ont.
THE CANADIAN PRESS/Geoff Robins

Proactive steps

There have been reports of recruiters misleading students about the programs and the cost of living in Canada amid the nationwide explosion of international students prior to the cap being put in place.

Educational institutions must therefore take proactive steps to address the concentration of students by collaborating with governments and community agencies to promote regional dispersal.

This strategy would complement the recent implementation of the cap on international student enrolment and would direct prospective students to less populous areas.

An added bonus of this approach is that students applying to schools in communities with fewer housing and infrastructure challenges could potentially receive their study permits more quickly compared to those aiming for major cities like Toronto.

It goes without saying that these regional institutions must invest in infrastructure and support services to accommodate and integrate students effectively. But their local economies would benefit from those investments for years to come.

Communities should also promote to residents an opportunity to learn from and experience young, educated people from other cultures so that their own communities become inclusive places that foster understanding, equity and harmony. Läs mer…

The Professional Women’s Hockey League (PWHL) has gained immense popularity since its inception in 2023. It has boasted a number of sold out games and has set audience attendance records in Toronto, Ottawa, Montréal, Detroit and Minnesota.

Despite this, the league is still lacking in safety measures. Currently, the PWHL doesn’t mandate the usage of neck laceration protectors (also known as neck guards), although they do strongly recommend them.

Since the death of ice hockey player Adam Johnson in October 2023 from a neck injury, there has been much debate about whether neck guards should be obligatory in professional hockey.

In the wake of Johnson’s death, the executive director of the PWHL players’ association predicted neck guards would become mandatory, but this has yet to happen. There is currently no policy in place for the implementation of neck guards within the league.

The Pittsburgh Penguins and Anaheim Ducks gather at center ice, before an NHL hockey game in Pittsburgh, on Oct. 30, 2023, to honour former Penguin player Adam Johnson who died while playing in an English hockey league game.
(AP Photo/Gene J. Puskar)

As the former Manager of Player Health and Safety of the Canadian Women’s Hockey League and the Professional Women’s Hockey Players Association, I have first-hand experience with the necessary and required equipment and safety policies.

While our medical board always recommended that neck protectors be implemented, it was never formalized due to organizational discrepancies.

With the newly announced body contact rule and the low salaries of PWHL players, there should be a mandate to introduce neck guards to protect players’ health and well-being.

New rules in professional women’s hockey

Players within the PWHL make an average salary of $35,000 per season, which is far from enough to support themselves in the long-term if they are injured during play. With the new induction of contact within the league, this leaves the players open to the possibility of injuries.

The PWHL rule book states body contact is permitted “when there is a clear intention of playing the puck or attempting to ‘gain possession’ of the puck.”

However, hitting or body contact, is presently not allowed in women’s hockey at grassroots and minor levels. This means players are not taught how to hit or take a hit before they reach the professional level, leaving the league with possible liability issues. Without proper measures in place to mitigate injury risks, the PWHL could face legal challenges and damage to its reputation.

Montréal’s Laura Stacey calls for the puck as she moves in on Ottawa goaltender Emerance Maschmeyer during first period PWHL hockey action in Montréal on February 24, 2024.
THE CANADIAN PRESS/Graham Hughes

Neck injuries, while rare in hockey, can be severe and potentially life threatening. One study found that of the nearly 12,000 athletes interviewed, only 485 (1.8 per cent) reported being cut in the neck area by a skate blade during play.

While neck protection is not foolproof, it is still a proven way to minimize injury in hockey. Systematic reviews have found that players who wear full facial protection, including neck guards, have a reduction in the number and risk of overall head and neck injuries.

The studies also found that players who sustained a concussion were able to return to sport sooner than those who didn’t wear facial protection.

Neck guard policies in hockey

Vancouver Canucks’ Conor Garland is seen wearing neck protection during an NHL hockey game against the Philadelphia Flyers in Vancouver on Dec. 28, 2023.
THE CANADIAN PRESS/Ethan Cairns

While there are equipment policies for the usage of neck guards within Hockey Canada, the International Ice Hockey Federation (IIHF) and USA Hockey, there are none in the PWHL.

Hockey Canada states that the usage of neck guards is only required for “players registered in minor and female hockey.”

The Western Hockey League joined the Ontario Hockey League and Quebec Maritimes Junior Hockey League in November 2023 in mandating the use of neck guards following Johnson’s death.

The IIHF previously only recommended that all players wear neck guards, but mandated the use of a neck laceration protectors at all levels of competition in December 2023.

USA Hockey, which oversees the sport in the U.S., similarly recommends that players wear neck protectors, but does not require it for all ages. As of January 2024, the organization has approved legislation to mandate neck guards for all players other than adults.

But the PWHL, like the NHL, does not adhere to any rule for the mandatory usage of neck guards, leaving the decision up to each player.

Women’s hockey and safety

Women’s hockey has set exemplary standards for other types of equipment safety, including the use of helmets according to safety standards. This success can be partly attributed to equipment requirements at the grassroots and development level, which have carried over to the professional level.

In contrast, male hockey players often compromise helmet safety by removing padding or loosening chin straps, believing their helmets are weighing them down and slowing down play.

But while women’s hockey has made strides in safety and injury prevention, there is still room for improvement. By mandating neck guards, the PWHL will continue to promote players’ health and safety at a high calibre. It is the best interest of the PWHL to mandate neck guards to match the implementation of body contact within play.

As the sport continues to evolve and gain recognition, ensuring the safety and well-being of its athletes remains paramount. By implementing these measures, the PWHL will not only uphold its responsibility to its players, but also set a standard for progress when it comes to safety in professional sport. Läs mer…

One year ago, Germany took its last three nuclear power stations offline. When it comes to energy, few events have baffled outsiders more.

In the face of climate change, calls to expedite the transition away from fossil fuels, and an energy crisis precipitated by Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine, Berlin’s move to quit nuclear before carbon-intensive energy sources like coal has attracted significant criticism. (Greta Thunberg prominently labelled it “a mistake”.)

This decision can only be understood in the context of post-war socio-political developments in Germany, where anti-nuclearism predated the public climate discourse.

From a 1971 West German bestseller evocatively titled Peaceably into Catastrophe: A Documentation of Nuclear Power Plants, to huge protests of hundreds of thousands – including the largest-ever demonstration seen in the West German capital Bonn – the anti-nuclear movement attracted national attention and widespread sympathy. It became a major political force well before even the Chernobyl disaster of 1986.

A 30,000-strong protest at the site of a nuclear power plant being constructed in Brokdorf, Germany, 1971.
FLS / Alamy

Its motivations included: a distrust of technocracy; ecological, environmental and safety fears; suspicions that nuclear energy could engender nuclear proliferation; and general opposition to concentrated power (especially after its extreme consolidation under the Nazi dictatorship).

Instead, activists championed what they regarded as safer, greener, and more accessible renewable alternatives like solar and wind, embracing their promise of greater self-sufficiency, community participation, and citizen empowerment (“energy democracy”).

This support for renewables was less about CO₂ and more aimed at resetting power relations (through decentralised, bottom-up generation rather than top-down production and distribution), protecting local ecosystems, and promoting peace in the context of the cold war.

Germany’s Energiewende

The contrast here with Thunberg’s latter-day Fridays for Future movement and its “listen to the experts” slogan is striking. The older activist generation deliberately rejected the mainstream expertise of the time, which then regarded centralised nuclear power as the future and mass deployment of distributed renewables as a pipe dream.

This earlier movement was instrumental in creating Germany’s Green Party – today the world’s most influential – which emerged in 1980 and first entered national government from 1998 to 2005 as junior partner to the Social Democrats. This “red-green” coalition banned new reactors, announced a shutdown of existing ones by 2022, and passed a raft of legislation supporting renewable energy.

That, in turn, turbocharged the national deployment of renewables, which ballooned from 6.3% of gross domestic electricity consumption in 2000 to 51.8% in 2023.

These figures are all the more remarkable given the contributions of ordinary citizens. In 2019, they owned fully 40.4% (and over 50% in the early 2010s) of Germany’s total installed renewable power generation capacity, whether through community wind energy cooperatives, farm-based biogas installations, or household rooftop solar.

Most other countries’ more recent energy transitions have been attempts to achieve net-zero targets using whatever low-carbon technologies are available. Germany’s now-famous “Energiewende” (translated as “energy transition” or even “energy revolution”), however, has from its earlier inception sought to shift away from both carbon-intensive as well as nuclear energy to predominantly renewable alternatives.

Indeed, the very book credited with coining the term Energiewende in 1980 was, significantly, titled Energie-Wende: Growth and Prosperity Without Oil and Uranium and published by a think tank founded by anti-nuclear activists.

Consecutive German governments have, over the past two and a half decades, more or less hewed to this line. Angela Merkel’s pro-nuclear second cabinet (2009-13) was an initial exception.

That lasted until the 2011 Fukushima disaster, after which mass protests of 250,000 and a shock state election loss to the Greens forced that administration, too, to revert to the 2022 phaseout plan. Small wonder that so many politicians today are reluctant to reopen that particular Pandora’s box.

Another ongoing political headache is where to store the country’s nuclear waste, an issue Germany has never managed to solve. No community has consented to host such a facility, and those designated for this purpose have seen large-scale protests.

Instead, radioactive waste has been stored in temporary facilities close to existing reactors – no long-term solution.

Nuclear remains unpopular

National polls underscore the Teutonic aversion to nuclear. Even in 2022, at the height of the recent energy crisis, a survey found that 52% opposed constructing new reactors, though 78% supported a temporary extension of existing plants until summer 2023. The three-way Social Democratic-Green-Liberal coalition government ultimately compromised on mid-April 2023.

Today, 51.6% of Germans believe this was premature. However, a further deferral was deemed politically unfeasible given the trenchant anti-nuclearism of the Greens and sizeable cross sections of the population.

Despite some public protestations to the contrary (the main opposition CDU party declared in January that Germany “cannot do without the nuclear power option at present”), in private few political leaders think the country will, or even realistically can, reverse course.

As an industry insider told me, talk of reintroducing nuclear to Germany is “delusional” because investors were “burnt … too many times” in the past and now “would rather put their money into safer investments”. Moreover, “it would take decades to build new [nuclear] power stations” and electricity is no longer the sector of concern, given the rapid buildout of renewables, with attention having shifted to heating and transport.

German nuclear power (purple) has largely been replaced by renewables (yellow), not coal (black and brown).
Clean Energy Wire, CC BY-SA

Predictions that the nuclear exit would leave Germany forced to use more coal and facing rising prices and supply problems, meanwhile, have not transpired. In March 2023 – the month before the phaseout – the distribution of German electricity generation was 53% renewable, 25% coal, 17% gas, and 5% nuclear. In March 2024, it was 60% renewable, 24% coal, and 16% gas.

Overall, the past year has seen record renewable power production nationwide, a 60-year low in coal use, sizeable emissions cuts, and decreasing energy prices.

The country’s energy sector, it seems, has already moved on. In the words of one industry observer: “Once you switch off these nuclear power stations, they’re out.” And there’s no easy way back.

For better or worse, this technology – in its present form at least – is dead in the water here. For many Germans, it will not be missed. Läs mer…

Scotland’s new hate crime law came into force on April 1, sparking immediate controversy over its potential effects on freedom of speech and expression, especially online. The Hate Crime and Public Order (Scotland) Act expands on current laws about crimes that have the possibility to stir up hatred, in Scotland only.

A “hate crime” itself is not its own specific offence under existing laws, or the new law. But if you are found to commit another crime (for example, assault) and it is proven that this was based on hostility against someone’s protected characteristic (usually race, religion, disability or sexual orientation) you can be given a harsher sentence.

The new law in Scotland introduces the offence of “stirring up hatred” – either in person or online – related to to age, disability, religion, sexual orientation, transgender identity or being intersex. This does not extend beyond Scotland.

A stirring up offence is committed if someone behaves in a way that the average person on the street would consider to be threatening or abusive, and that behaviour is based on the victim’s protected characteristic. To find someone guilty, it must be proven that their aim or purpose was to stir up hatred. This is a high threshold and difficult to prove.

Alongside threatening or abusive behaviour in person, the law criminalises sending such communications online. This has been the most controversial change. Critics fear it could harm free speech, especially online, where context is everything, but is often lost.

Of particular concern have been discussions over transgender identity – author JK Rowling challenged police to arrest her over a series of posts describing transgender women as men, though police say this did not amount to a crime.

But should a law like this even be used to govern online speech?

Stirring up offences online

The rationale behind public order legislation, including the new Scottish law, has always been to maintain public order during a time of disorder. It is difficult to argue that online comments can amount to criminal offences that threaten public order.

Public order prosecutions of people who make hateful or prejudicial comments online are rare – and successful convictions even rarer. There are only a handful of cases in the public domain to use as examples.

In 2012, Liam Stacey, a student, was sentenced to 56 days in jail under the Public Order Act 1986 for sending tweets intended to stir up racial hatred aimed at footballer Fabrice Muamba. As I and other legal scholars have argued, while Stacey’s tweets were clearly abusive, they never threatened public order. And yet, he was convicted of a public order offence, under a law enacted 20 years before Twitter even existed.

The act was also successfully used to prosecute 45-year-old Wigan man Stuart Sutton, who received a 16-month custodial sentence in 2022 for posting anti-Semitic and racist commentary online.

Distinguishing between intent to stir up hatred and speech intended to inform rather than offend is incredibly complex, especially online where proving public order is under threat is near impossible. Indeed, speech intended to inform is protected under the European Convention of Human Rights, even if it could be construed as racist.

Protesters have raised concerns about the law’s possible effects on free speech.
Craig Brown/Alamy

In most cases, online comments have been successfully prosecuted under other existing laws, such as communications offences.

Following England’s defeat in the 2020 Euros, three people were arrested for public order offences relating to stirring up racial hatred. But, in the event, each was later charged and convicted of sending a grossly offensive message in violation of the Communications Act, as opposed to a public order offence.

Scotland had another law that dealt specifically with threatening communications, as well as behaviour at football matches, with provisions in place to uplift sentencing for communications grounded in hate. This law was used 32 times, and was later repealed following concerns that it was illiberal and unfairly targeted football fans.

In England and Wales, provisions such as the Malicious Communications Act and the Protection from Harassment Act have been used to prosecute people for offensive comments online. The Sentencing Act also allows the courts to “uplift” a person’s sentence under any criminal provision, if their offence is proven to be aggravated by hate. This is used much more commonly than specific public order offences.

Fighting hate online

Scottish government officials have hailed the new law as a significant step forward in protecting people from hate and prejudice. The reporting of hate crimes across Scotland has been relatively low compared to other jurisdictions.

But there is little evidence that the offence of stirring up hatred itself is effective in tackling online hate, which is certainly on the rise. The reality is that prosecutions for harmful online speech are likely to fall under other existing laws.

If we really want to tackle the rise in hate online (which recent debates seem to suggest we do), public order legislation and the weight of the criminal law will never work. It is only through open and public debate and better education that we can enact change. Läs mer…

London Stock Exchange (LSE), which can trace its heritage to the coffee houses of the 17th century, is failing. The volume of shares traded is sharply declining, and some UK companies are swiftly moving to the US market.

Listing in a stock exchange is meant to raise long-term equity capital for companies by offering shares to the public and institutions. However, the gap between what companies are valued at on the UK and US stock exchanges is seen as suppressing the market value of UK-listed companies, and prompting them to look for better playing grounds.

Two decades ago, UK-listed equities accounted for 11% of the MSCI World Index, which tracks the global equity market. Now they represent a meagre 4%. Since 2020, several LSE-listed companies, including Cambridge-based biotech firm Abcam, plumbing supplier Ferguson and packaging firm Smurfit Kappa Group, have moved to the US.

Most recently, oil and gas giant Shell has threatened to do the same. In 2023, the Nasdaq raised US$13 billion (£10.4 billion) while the LSE managed US$972 million from the companies floating on it.

For companies moving to a US listing, the UK and the US standards differ. In an LSE listing, regulatory measures are stringent – companies need to raise capital and get approval from regulator the Financial Conduct Authority (FCA).

In the US, the Nasdaq and the New York Stock Exchange both require companies’ initial stock price, number of shares, number of shareholders and total market value, in addition to other financial requirements. But once companies float their shares and start trading, they need to meet less stringent standards.

More than 30 companies with market capitalisation over £100 million are leaving London’s public equity markets. Thirteen companies have undertaken and completed takeover bids and 17 companies delisted.

The aggregate market capitalisation of LSE-listed equities went down to US$3 trillion in February 2024, from US$4.3 trillion in 2007, whereas the US market has grown three-fold to US$53 trillion.

So what’s behind this contrast in fortunes? Factors including high interest rates, dwindling pension funds, fewer high-performing tech companies, Brexit isolation and a lack of committed domestic investors have all contributed to the LSE’s downward spiral.

Valuation matters

LSE-listed companies’ valuation is relatively low compared to their US counterparts. Initial public offerings (or IPOs – when private companies put their shares on sale to raise capital) on LSE fell substantially in 2023 as a host of companies opted for US listing for the chance of higher valuation and growth.

The valuation differential between both markets is affecting the LSE listing considerably. Earnings for US-listed companies have been consistently growing, at a three-year annualised return of 14%, revenues have grown at 9.1%, and the market trading is levelling at an average price-earnings ratio of 27.6.

In contrast, the five-year annualised return of the LSE (2017-2022) was 3.2% and the revenues growth is projected at 5.4%.

The US market offers a higher valuation for companies, a faster-growing equity market fuelled by AI-led investor pools, and opportunities to make money through short-selling. The UK market traditionally prefers long-term selling stocks which sometimes result in low growth and return.

What a Shell exit could mean for the LSE.

Back in 2022 the UK government urgently wanted to close the valuation gap with the US and introduced the “Edinburgh reforms”. The 30 regulatory reforms aimed to make LSE an attractive platform for companies compared to the rival bourses in the US and Europe.

But previous reforms to the LSE’s listing regime in 2021 didn’t halt the decline in the number of companies choosing to list there. And the UK Treasury committee said last year that there has been little economic impact since the Edinburgh reforms package was set out.

Lastly, since it acquired data giant Refinitiv in 2021, the LSE has been less focused on the exchange side and more on data analytics. LSE has not been able to get the most from its indexes and is subsumed by the hefty US$27 billion cost of the deal.

What can be done?

To turn things around, LSE should set a clear mechanism to trade different classes of shares. Multiple share classes make it easier for founders to keep control of their business and are usual in the US but far less common in the UK.

It could also revamp the valuation of delisted shares before they go for liquidation. Both NYSE and Nasdaq offer provisions for delisted shares to move on to the over-the-counter markets (that is, through a broker) to continue trading. Over-the-counter trading can offer greater flexibility and lower transaction costs.

It should also consider simplifying the administrative burden and easing investment procedures. In addition, with executive rewards higher in the US than the UK, LSE should address the cross-border pay differentials since UK shareholders have a controlling say on remuneration compared to the simple advisory role of US shareholders.

Looking ahead, political events will have a significant effect on market prospects. The FTSE All-Share index shows a sharp volatility before, during and after general elections. This will be a period of reckoning for the LSE, investors and regulators alike. The choices LSE makes now could determine whether it can stem the flow of companies to the US and continue in its proud tradition. Läs mer…