Category: democracy

  • Disinformation and the decline of democracy

    Disinformation and the decline of democracy

    The unprecedented mob assault on the U.S. Capitol on January 6 represents perhaps the most stunning collision yet between the world of online disinformation and reality.

    The supporters of U.S. President Donald Trump who broke into Congress did so in the belief that the U.S. election was stolen from them after weeks of consuming unproven narratives about “ballot dumps,” manipulated voting machines and Democrat big-city corruption. Some — including the woman who was shot dead — were driven by the discredited QAnon conspiracy theory that represents Democratic Party elites as a pedophile ring and Trump as the savior.

    It’s tempting to hope that disinformation and its corrosive effects on democracy may have reached a high-water mark with the events of January 6 and the end of Trump’s presidency. But trends in technology and society’s increasing separation into social media echo chambers suggest that worse may be to come.

    Imagine for a moment if video of the Capitol riot had been manipulated to replace the faces of Trump supporters with those of known protestors for antifa, a left-wing, anti-fascist and anti-racist political movement. This would have bolstered the unproven story that has emerged about a “false flag” operation. Or imagine if thousands of different stories written by artificial intelligence software and pedaling that version of events had flooded social media and been picked up by news organizations in the hours after the assault.

    That technology not only exists. It’s getting more sophisticated and easier to access by the day.

    Trust in democracy is eroding.

    Deepfake, or synthetic, videos are starting to seep from pornography — where they’ve mostly been concentrated — into the world of politics. A deepfake of former President Barack Obama using an expletive to describe Trump has garnered over eight million views on YouTube since it was released in 2018.

    Most anyone familiar with Obama’s appearance and speaking style can tell there’s something amiss with that video. But two years is an eternity in AI-driven technology and many experts believe it will soon be impossible for the human eye and ear to spot the best deepfakes.

    A deepfake specialist was hailed early last year for using freely available software to “de-age” Robert DeNiro and Joe Pesci in the movie “The Irishman,” producing a result that many critics considered superior to the work of the visual-effects supervisor in the actual film.

    In recent years, the sense of shared, objective reality and trust in institutions have already come under strain as social media bubbles hasten the spread of fake news and conspiracy theories. The worry is that deepfakes and other AI-generated content will supercharge this trend in coming years.

    “This is disastrous to any liberal democratic model because in a world where anything can be faked, everyone becomes a target,” Nina Schick, the author of “Deepfakes — The Coming Infopocalypse,” told U.S. author Sam Harris in a recent podcast.

    “But even more than that, if anything can be faked … everything can also be denied. So the very basis of what is reality starts to become corroded.”

    Governments must do more to combat disinformation.

    Illustrating her point is reaction to Trump’s video statement released a day after the storming of Congress. While some of his followers online saw it as a betrayal, others reassured themselves by saying it was a deepfake.

    On the text side, the advent of GPT-3 — an AI program that can produce articles indistinguishable from those written by humans — has potentially powerful implications for disinformation. Writing bots could be programmed to produce fake articles or spew political and racial hatred at a volume that could overwhelm text based on facts and moderation.

    Society has been grappling with written fake news for years and photographs have long been easily manipulated through software. But convincingly faked videos and AI-generated stories seem to many to represent a deeper, more viral threat to reality-based discourse.

    It’s clear that there’s no silver-bullet solution to the disinformation problem. Social media platforms like Facebook have a major role to play and are developing their own AI technology to better detect fake content. While fakers are likely to keep evolving to stay ahead, stricter policing and quicker action by online platforms can at least limit the impact of false videos and stories.

    Governments are coming under pressure to push Big Tech into taking a harder line against fake news, including through regulation. Authorities can devote more funding to digital media literacy programs in schools and elsewhere to help individuals become more alert and proficient in identifying suspect content.

    When it comes down to it, the real power of fake news hinges on those who believe it and spread it.


    Questions to consider:

    1. How can technology be used to spread fake news?

    2. Why is disinformation potentially harmful to democracy?

    3. How do you think the rise of AI technology will affect the type of information people consume?

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  • Why People Under 35 Are Not Afraid of Democratic Socialism

    Why People Under 35 Are Not Afraid of Democratic Socialism

    For Americans under 35, the term “democratic socialism” triggers neither fear nor Cold War reflexes. It represents something far simpler: a demand for a functioning society. Younger generations have grown up in a world where basic pillars of American life—higher education, medicine, economic mobility, and even life expectancy—have deteriorated while inequality has soared. Democratic socialism, in their view, is not a fringe ideology but a practical response to systems that have ceased to serve the common good.

    Nowhere is this clearer than in higher education. Millennials and Gen Z entered adulthood as universities became corporate enterprises, expanding administrative layers, pushing adjunct labor to the brink, and relying on debt-financed tuition increases to keep the machine running. Public investment collapsed, predatory for-profit chains proliferated, and nonprofit universities acted like hedge funds with classrooms attached. Students saw institutions with billion-dollar endowments operate as landlords and asset managers, all while passing costs onto working families. When Bernie Sanders called for tuition-free public college, young people did not hear utopianism—they heard a plan grounded in global reality, a model that exists in Germany, Sweden, Finland, and other social democracies that treat education as a public good rather than a revenue stream.

    Healthcare tells an even harsher story. Americans under 35 watched their parents and grandparents navigate a system more focused on billing codes than care, one where an ambulance ride costs a week’s wages and a bout of illness can mean bankruptcy. They experienced the rise of corporatized university medical centers, private equity–owned emergency rooms, and insurance bureaucracies that ration access more cruelly than any state. They saw life-saving drugs priced like luxury goods and mental health services pushed out of reach. Compare this to nations with universal healthcare: longer life expectancy, lower infant mortality, and far less medical debt. Again, Sanders’ Medicare for All resonated not because of ideology but because young people recognized it as a plausible path toward the kind of humane medical system described by scholars like Harriet Washington, Elisabeth Rosenthal, and Mahmud Mamdani, who all critique the structural violence embedded in systems of unequal care.

    Life expectancy itself has become a generational indictment. For the first time in modern U.S. history, it has fallen, driven by overdose deaths, suicide, preventable illness, and worsening inequities. Younger Americans know that friends and peers have died far earlier than their counterparts abroad. They see that countries with strong public services—childcare, unemployment insurance, housing supports, universal healthcare—live longer, healthier lives. They also see how austerity and privatization have hollowed out public health infrastructure in the United States, leaving communities vulnerable to crises large and small. The message is clear: societies that invest in people live longer; societies that treat health as a commodity do not.

    Quality of Life (QOL) ties all of this together. People under 35 face rent burdens unimaginable to previous generations, debts that prevent them from forming families, stagnant wages, and a labor market defined by precarity. They face the erosion of public space, public transit, libraries, and social supports—what Mamdani would describe as the slow unraveling of the civic realm under neoliberalism. When they look abroad, they see countries with social democratic frameworks offering guaranteed parental leave, subsidized childcare, free or nearly free college, universal healthcare, and robust worker protections. These are not distant fantasies; they are functioning models that produce higher happiness levels, stronger social trust, and more stable democracies.

    Older generations often accuse young people of radicalism, but the reality is the reverse. Millennials and Gen Z are pragmatic. They have lived through the failures of unfettered capitalism: historic inequality, monopolistic industries, soaring costs of living, and a political class unresponsive to their material conditions. They have read Sanders’ critiques of oligarchy and Mamdani’s analyses of state power and structural violence, and they see themselves reflected in those diagnoses. Democratic socialism appeals because it is rooted in material improvements to daily life rather than in abstract political theory. It promises a society where income does not determine survival, where education does not require lifelong debt, where parents can afford to raise children, and where basic health is not a luxury good.

    People under 35 are not afraid of democratic socialism because they have already seen what the absence of a social democratic framework produces. They are not seeking revolution for its own sake. They are seeking a livable future. And increasingly, they view democratic socialism not as a radical break but as the only realistic path toward rebuilding public institutions, revitalizing democracy, and ensuring that future generations inherit a country worth living in.

    Sources

    Sanders, Bernie. Our Revolution: A Future to Believe In.

    Sanders, Bernie. Where We Go from Here: Two Years in the Resistance.

    Mamdani, Mahmood. Define and Rule: Native as Political Identity.

    Mamdani, Mahmood. Neither Settler nor Native: The Making and Unmaking of Permanent Minorities.

    Washington, Harriet. Medical Apartheid.

    Rosenthal, Elisabeth. An American Sickness.

    Skloot, Rebecca. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks.

    Baldwin, Davarian. In the Shadow of the Ivory Tower.

    Bousquet, Marc. How the University Works.

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  • Can the world’s largest democracy accept all faiths?

    Can the world’s largest democracy accept all faiths?

    Sidra Khan is a young Muslim woman in India who aspires to be a lawyer. Since early childhood, she has valued and respected Islam, the religion she was born into. But her headscarf now meets eagle eyes when she travels on public transport or tries to make a point during college lectures. 

    She feels that anti-Muslim rhetoric in India is causing her peers to judge her on the basis of religion and not merit. This, many Muslim students like Khan feel, is a casualty of having the government of Prime Minister Narendra Modi rule India.

    Over the last decade, the government of this secular country long considered the world’s largest democracy has introduced religious-based laws and politicians have incited anger and hatred against those who aren’t Hindu through rhetoric in speeches and AI campaigns. In northeast India’s Assam state, Wajid Alam, a college history student, watched a new election video from the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party with unease.

    An AI generated video shared by BJP’s official social media handles suggested that if the BJP loses power, Assam would be overrun by Muslims. It used AI-generated imagery to depict Muslims in hijabs and skull caps allegedly taking over airports, stadiums, tea gardens and other public spaces.

    It concluded with a message claiming Muslims could grow to 90% of Assam’s population, provoking other religious groups to choose the BJP to get rid of Muslims.

    The politics of religion

    For Alam and millions of Muslims in Assam, the video felt like an attack. And it is not the first time the BJP has been accused of demonizing religious minorities. Under Prime Minister Narendra Modi, India — a country founded on principles of secularism and religious freedom — has seen growing hostility toward Muslims and Christians.

    Some 200 million people in India practice the Muslim faith, making it the world’s third largest population of Muslims.

    Modi became India’s 14th prime minister in May 2014. Not long after, reports of attacks on religious minorities began to climb. In June 2014, Mohsin Shaikh, a young Muslim IT worker in Pune, was beaten to death by Hindu extremists — the first of several lynchings that followed. 

    A year later, in 2015, a Hindu mob in Dadri, Uttar Pradesh, killed Mohammad Akhlaq on suspicion of eating beef — considered a serious offense in the Hindu religion. That made global headlines and signalled the rise of cow-protection vigilantism. 

    By 2016–17, assaults on Muslims accused of trading or transporting cattle spread across northern India, with cases like the lynching of dairy farmer Pehlu Khan in Rajasthan. Christians, too, came under pressure during this period: nationalist groups staged forced reconversion campaigns, disrupted prayer meetings, vandalized churches and invoked new anti-conversion laws to arrest pastors and worshippers.

    Muslims under Modi’s rule

    Together, these incidents marked the early years of the Modi era as a turning point, when both Muslims and Christians began to face growing hostility in daily life.

    At the same time, hostile rhetoric against minorities became increasingly common in election campaigns. BJP leaders and affiliated Hindu nationalist groups framed Muslims as “outsiders” or “invaders,” with speeches warning of demographic “takeovers” or linking entire communities to terrorism and cow slaughter.

    Christians were accused of running covert “conversion factories,” with pastors painted as threats to India’s cultural identity. These narratives — echoed at rallies, on television debates and, more recently, through AI-generated propaganda — blurred the line between campaign messaging and hate speech. For many analysts, this marked a shift: politics was no longer just influenced by religion, but actively weaponizing it to polarize voters.

    These speeches were not isolated slips but part of a larger pattern. Muslims were painted as “infiltrators,” “termites” or participants in a supposed “love jihad” plot to convert Hindu women, while Christians were accused of running “conversion factories” and threatening India’s culture.

    Senior BJP figures, including party president Amit Shah and Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath, used such language at rallies to mobilize support. Over time, this messaging blurred into mainstream political discourse, normalizing suspicion and hostility toward entire communities.

    Political divisions

    India’s experience is part of a wider global pattern. Around the world, political movements are blending nationalism and religion to define who “belongs.” A recent Pew Research Center study found that while the United States ranks lower than many countries on overall religious nationalism, it stands out among wealthy democracies for how many adults say the Bible should influence national laws or that being Christian is essential to being truly American.

    In the United States, debates over Christian nationalism have become a powerful current within the Republican Party and Donald Trump’s political rhetoric.

    Trump and allied evangelical leaders increasingly frame America as a “Christian nation,” a message that blurs the line between faith and state power. Commentators warn that this effort to link patriotism with religion mirrors broader global trends — from India to Israel to Turkey — where religious identity is being harnessed for political gain.

    Both the U.S. and Indian constitutions enshrine secularism, which is the idea that the state would keep equal distance from all religions. In India’s case, that principle mattered in a country where Hindus form the majority but millions of Muslims, Christians, Sikhs and Buddhists also call the nation home. 

    A history of strife

    Even before Modi, religion and politics were sometimes entwined: the Congress Party drew on Hindu symbolism, the 1984 anti-Sikh riots scarred the country and the destruction of the Babri mosque in 1992 shook faith in secularism. Still, the political consensus was that India was not to be defined by one faith.

    “But a lot has changed under Modi and the BJP,” said Sneha Lal, a Hindu student studying to become a primary school teacher. “We did not grow up in this India.”

    Lal is bothered by some of the BJP’s tactics that have promoted anti-conversion laws in several states, laws often used against Christians and Muslims accused of proselytizing. 

    In 2019, the Citizenship Amendment Act introduced fast-track citizenship for non-Muslim refugees, a move widely criticized as discriminatory toward Muslims. That same year, Delhi revoked the autonomy of Jammu and Kashmir, India’s only Muslim-majority state. Alongside these legal changes, election campaigns have increasingly featured polarizing rhetoric, and propaganda — including AI-generated videos — has circulated warning of demographic “takeovers.” 

    Critics say these policies and messages together mark a break from India’s founding secular vision, pushing the country toward a Hindu-first identity.

    Can there be a unified national identity?

    Seema Chishti, a senior journalist who has witnessed India’s journey from secular to right-wing, said that mixing religion with politics and diluting India’s unified national identity across religious and ethnic groups is a stated core principle of the ruling party, based on its militant roots. 

    “The Indian Constitution recognises no barriers to being Indian, i.e. nationality is not contingent on faith, caste, region, creed, gender or political views,” Chishti said. “BJP has loudly proclaimed ‘Hindu-India’ and instilled ‘Hindu’ nationalism in politics, education, the armed forces and every other facet of Indian life.”

    An example of Modi’s attempt to link Indian-ness with Hinduism is the Citizenship Amendment Act of 2019 which fast-tracks Indian citizenship for non-Muslims from three neighbours: Pakistan, Bangladesh and Afghanistan. “This action echoes ideas of India being a Hindu homeland,” Chishti said.

    On 15 August 2025, on India’s 79th Independence Day, Modi addressed crowds gathered at Delhi’s historical Red Fort, as he did the last 11 years that he has been in power. 

    On a day which commemorates India’s long struggle for self-rule that culminated in self-governance and independence from the British empire, Modi referred to the right-wing paramilitary organization Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh or RSS as a philanthropic organization. RSS has espoused an India for Hindus only. 

    Intolerance and violence

    All this has had tragic consequences. On 25 September, a seven-year-old Muslim boy was abducted from his neighborhood and brutally murdered in northern India’s Azamgarh. 

    But religious hate crimes haven’t only targeted Muslims. On 11 June, a mob allegedly linked to Hindu extremist groups attacked guests at a Christian wedding and set fire to a utility vehicle. And on 25 July, two Catholic nuns were arrested in central India’s Chhattisgarh state following a complaint by a member of an extremist Hindu group.

    India’s United Christian Forum reported that in 2024, Christians across the country witnessed 834 such incidents, up 100 incidents from 734 in 2023 — that comes out to more than two Christians being targeted every day in India simply for practising their faith. 

    These incidents of attacks and even public hate speeches against Christians are not limited to vandalism, they extend to physical assaults, disruption of prayer gatherings, financial boycotts and even motivated arrests. 

    This anti-Christian sentiment has been fanned by Hindu extremist groups in the country, which are indirectly and sometimes directly backed by the ruling BJP and other Hindu nationalist groups. These groups are increasingly using anti-conversion laws created in the Modi era to harass Christians. 

    Christians in India

    Arun Pannalal, president of the Chhattisgarh Christian Forum, said that two things are happening: Lawlessness of mobs who target Christians is ignored by police, while Christians often find themselves subject to seemingly random arrests. 

    “On random calls by Bajrang Dal goons the Police arrested the nuns, without evidence of anything,” Pannalal said. “But when the nuns wanted to complain against the goons, it was not lodged.

    Chishti said that more than politicising religion, by inserting religion into politics, the BJP is trying to portray itself as the only ‘Hindu’ party and the others consequently as not. She maintains that the BJP has fought elections on issues that polarise Indians, divide them and not on its performance or electoral record. Its electoral dominance has also meant that other parties in the fray, the opposition too find themselves playing on the BJP’s turf. 

    “The BJP has done its best to make the political discourse about faith, symbols of religion — Hindu and Muslim — and portraying themselves as saviours of the Hindu faith and righting so-called historical wrongs,” Chishti said.

    As a result, the media focuses on the religious conflicts, instead of other pressing issues, such as the economic well-being of people, the public health or education systems, joblessness and inflation, Chishti said.

    As India heads toward future elections, the blending of religion and politics raises questions not just for its own democracy but for others around the world. For young people in India, the stakes are immediate: whether their country remains true to its founding promise of secularism and equal rights.

    But for readers everywhere, India’s story is part of a larger global trend from the United States to Turkey to Israel, where religion and nationalism intertwine to shape politics. Understanding how these forces play out in the world’s largest democracy can help us make sense of how faith and power continue to influence politics across the globe.

    India’s struggle shows that when religion becomes a political weapon, democracy itself can become the battleground.


    Questions to consider:

    1. How is freedom of religion protected in India?

    2. In what ways are Muslims being treated differently by the Modi administration?

    3. In what ways to you feel comfortable or uncomfortable in your community expressing your faith?


     

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  • The power of one voice

    The power of one voice

    The reaction to Alla’s interview contrasted with the pro-Ukraine demonstrations that met Russian soprano Anna Netrebko when she appeared on the opening night of Puccini’s “Tosca” at the Royal Opera House in London earlier this month.

    In contrast, the appearance of Netrebko, who has said in an understated way that she is against the war, sparked a debate in the British press about whether politics and art should be mixed.

    But Alla was clear. She said she felt she had to tell the truth for the sake of her children.

    Repercussions of speaking out

    Her interview, lasting more than three-and-a-half hours, ranged over many topics, from her musical memories to her five husbands. But it was when she grasped the nettle of politics — and how politics affected her family — that it became gripping.

    Alla is married to the Russian-Israeli stand-up comedian Maxim Galkin, who at 49 is 27 years her junior (their 12-year-old twins Liza and Harry were born via a surrogate mother).

    Straight-talking and irreverent, Galkin shared a stage with Ukraine’s comedian-turned-president Volodymyr Zelensky for Russia’s iconic New Year’s Eve show in 2013. He opposed the war with Ukraine, when it broke out in 2022.

    After Galkin spoke out, Alla said she was summoned to the Kremlin for a “talk” with Sergei Kiriyenko, the first deputy chief of staff of the presidential administration. The conversation seemed to be friendly enough. But a few days later, Galkin was declared a “foreign agent”.

    Alla said that when their children went to school after that, they were mocked as the children of spies and told that their father was a foreign agent and their parents were enemies. The family packed up and left — first to Israel and then to Cyprus. They spend their summer holidays in Latvia.

    “They call me a traitor,” Alla said in the interview. “And what exactly did I betray? I have said that I could leave my homeland, which I love very much, only in one case — if my homeland betrayed me. And it has betrayed me.”

    Strong words from a woman who has been a celebrity in Russia for decades.

    A performer for the people

    Classically trained to conduct choirs, Alla shot to stardom in 1975 when she won the grand prix at the Golden Orpheus international song contest in Bulgaria with the song “Arlekino” (Harlequin).

    Banned by the Communist Party from collaborating with ABBA, she became huge in her own right — as big as Tina Turner, say, in the United States — and always sang for the people. In 1986, for example, she appeared in a special concert for the firemen who risked their lives in the aftermath of a devastating explosion at the Chernobyl nuclear plant in northern Ukraine, when it was part of the Soviet Union.

    Because Alla never projected herself as a diva but rather as “the woman who sings”, she won the hearts of millions and was loved by everyone, from housewives to mafia bosses. In the 1990s, there was even a petition calling for her to stand as Russian president, which she modestly laughed off.

    Russian journalist and writer Mikhail Zygar, who now lives in Berlin, wrote that Alla’s statements against Putin are important because she had never been a political activist.

    “Millions of Russians always considered her ‘one of their own’ — because through her songs she expressed the pain and suffering of ordinary Russians,” he said. “The fact that she has stopped keeping silent and spoken out openly against the war is a very important signal. She has always been the voice of millions of mute, wordless, unhappy Russians. Now they will think the way she put it — that’s how her interview is being described on social media.”

    Perhaps the biggest indication of the strength of the interview was the speed and viciousness with which the Russian authorities reacted.

    Foreign Ministry spokeswoman Maria Zakharova called it a “bazaar of hypocrisy” while parliamentary deputy Vitaly Milonov said: “I believe that in her interview, Pugacheva said enough not only to warrant the status of ‘foreign agent’ but also to fall under several criminal articles, including the justification of terrorism.” The pro-Kremlin ruler of Chechnya, Ramzan Kadyrov, went so far as to call Alla an “enemy of the people”.


    Questions to consider:

    1. In what ways could it be “patriotic” to criticise your own country?

    2. Should art and politics be mixed?

    3. Can you think of other artists or musicians who have risked their popularity by standing out against their government’s policies?


     



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  • PLAN YOUR ACTION NOW (Todd Wolfson, AAUP/AFT)

    PLAN YOUR ACTION NOW (Todd Wolfson, AAUP/AFT)

    Faculty, students and staff are joining together throughout the country to defend and advance higher education. Plan your action now and register it here: https://docs.google.com/…/1bhu9QLt1…/viewform…

    This event is in collaboration with studentsriseup.org

    Students Rise Up (Project Rise Up) is a plan to organize millions of students to disrupt business as usual and force our schools and our political system to finally work for us.

    Right now, billionaires and fascists are attacking our schools because they know that student protest could bring them down. Our power is that we outnumber them. If working people and students unite to use our power of disruption and non-cooperation, we can crack the foundations of their power.

    It all starts on November 7th, 2025 with walkouts and protests at hundreds of schools around the country. Join us.

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  • Who gets to decide what counts as knowledge? Big tech, AI, and the future of epistemic agency in higher education

    Who gets to decide what counts as knowledge? Big tech, AI, and the future of epistemic agency in higher education

    by Mehreen Ashraf, Eimear Nolan, Manual F Ramirez, Gazi Islam and Dirk Lindebaum

    Walk into almost any university today, and you can be sure to encounter the topic of AI and how it affects higher education (HE). AI applications, especially large language models (LLM), have become part of everyday academic life, being used for drafting outlines, summarising readings, and even helping students to ‘think’. For some, the emergence of LLMs is a revolution that makes learning more efficient and accessible. For others, it signals something far more unsettling: a shift in how and by whom knowledge is controlled. This latter point is the focus of our new article published in Organization Studies.

    At the heart of our article is a shift in what is referred to epistemic (or knowledge) governance: the way in which knowledge is created, organised, and legitimised in HE. In plain terms, epistemic governance is about who gets to decide what counts as credible, whose voices are heard, and how the rules of knowing are set. Universities have historically been central to epistemic governance through peer review, academic freedom, teaching, and the public mission of scholarship. But as AI tools become deeply embedded in teaching and research, those rules are being rewritten not by educators or policymakers, but by the companies that own the technology.

    From epistemic agents to epistemic consumers

    Universities, academics, and students have traditionally been epistemic agents: active producers and interpreters of knowledge. They ask questions, test ideas, and challenge assumptions. But when we rely on AI systems to generate or validate content, we risk shifting from being agents of knowledge to consumers of knowledge. Technology takes on the heavy cognitive work: it finds sources, summarises arguments, and even produces prose that sounds academic. However, this efficiency comes at the cost of profound changes in the nature of intellectual work.

    Students who rely on AI to tidy up their essays, or generate references, will learn less about the process of critically evaluating sources, connecting ideas and constructing arguments, which are essential for reasoning through complex problems. Academics who let AI draft research sections, or feed decision letters and reviewer reports into AI with the request that AI produces a ‘revision strategy’, might save time but lose the slow, reflective process that leads to original thought, while undercutting their own agency in the process. And institutions that embed AI into learning systems hand part of their epistemic governance – their authority to define what knowledge is and how it is judged – to private corporations.

    This is not about individual laziness; it is structural. As Shoshana Zuboff argued in The age of surveillance capitalism, digital infrastructures do not just collect information, they reorganise how we value and act upon it. When universities become dependent on tools owned by big tech, they enter an ecosystem where the incentives are commercial, not educational.

    Big tech and the politics of knowing

    The idea that universities might lose control of knowledge sounds abstract, but it is already visible. Jisc’s 2024 framework on AI in tertiary education warns that institutions must not ‘outsource their intellectual labour to unaccountable systems,’ yet that outsourcing is happening quietly. Many UK universities, including the University of Oxford, have signed up to corporate AI platforms to be used by staff and students alike. This, in turn, facilitates the collection of data on learning behaviours that can be fed back into proprietary models.

    This data loop gives big tech enormous influence over what is known and how it is known. A company’s algorithm can shape how research is accessed, which papers surface first, or which ‘learning outcomes’ appear most efficient to achieve. That’s epistemic governance in action: the invisible scaffolding that structures knowledge behind the scenes. At the same time, it is easy to see why AI technologies appeal to universities under pressure. AI tools promise speed, standardisation, lower costs, and measurable performance, all seductive in a sector struggling with staff shortages and audit culture. But those same features risk hollowing out the human side of scholarship: interpretation, dissent, and moral reasoning. The risk is not that AI will replace academics but that it will change them, turning universities from communities of inquiry into systems of verification.

    The Humboldtian ideal and why it is still relevant

    The modern research university was shaped by the 19th-century thinker Wilhelm von Humboldt, who imagined higher education as a public good, a space where teaching and research were united in the pursuit of understanding. The goal was not efficiency: it was freedom. Freedom to think, to question, to fail, and to imagine differently.

    That ideal has never been perfectly achieved, but it remains a vital counterweight to market-driven logics that render AI a natural way forward in HE. When HE serves as a place of critical inquiry, it nourishes democracy itself. When it becomes a service industry optimised by algorithms, it risks producing what Žižek once called ‘humans who talk like chatbots’: fluent, but shallow.

    The drift toward organised immaturity

    Scholars like Andreas Scherer and colleagues describe this shift as organised immaturity: a condition where sociotechnical systems prompt us to stop thinking for ourselves. While AI tools appear to liberate us from labour, what is happening is that they are actually narrowing the space for judgment and doubt.

    In HE, that immaturity shows up when students skip the reading because ‘ChatGPT can summarise it’, or when lecturers rely on AI slides rather than designing lessons for their own cohort. Each act seems harmless; but collectively, they erode our epistemic agency. The more we delegate cognition to systems optimised for efficiency, the less we cultivate the messy, reflective habits that sustain democratic thinking. Immanuel Kant once defined immaturity as ‘the inability to use one’s understanding without guidance from another.’ In the age of AI, that ‘other’ may well be an algorithm trained on millions of data points, but answerable to no one.

    Reclaiming epistemic agency

    So how can higher education reclaim its epistemic agency? The answer lies not only in rejecting AI but also in rethinking our possible relationships with it. Universities need to treat generative tools as objects of inquiry, not an invisible infrastructure. That means embedding critical digital literacy across curricula: not simply training students to use AI responsibly, but teaching them to question how it works, whose knowledge it privileges, and whose it leaves out.

    In classrooms, educators could experiment with comparative exercises: have students write an essay on their own, then analyse an AI version of the same task. What’s missing? What assumptions are built in? How were students changed when the AI wrote the essay for them and when they wrote them themselves? As the Russell Group’s 2024 AI principles note, ‘critical engagement must remain at the heart of learning.’

    In research, academics too must realise that their unique perspectives, disciplinary judgement, and interpretive voices matter, perhaps now more than ever, in a system where AI’s homogenisation of knowledge looms. We need to understand that the more we subscribe to values of optimisation and efficiency as preferred ways of doing academic work, the more natural the penetration of AI into HE will unfold.

    Institutionally, universities might consider building open, transparent AI systems through consortia, rather than depending entirely on proprietary tools. This isn’t just about ethics; it’s about governance and ensuring that epistemic authority remains a public, democratic responsibility.

    Why this matters to you

    Epistemic governance and epistemic agency may sound like abstract academic terms, but they refer to something fundamental: the ability of societies and citizens (not just ‘workers’) to think for themselves when/if universities lose control over how knowledge is created, validated and shared. When that happens, we risk not just changing education but weakening democracy. As journalist George Monbiot recently wrote, ‘you cannot speak truth to power if power controls your words.’ The same is true for HE. We cannot speak truth to power if power now writes our essays, marks our assignments, and curates our reading lists.

    Mehreen Ashraf is an Assistant Professor at Cardiff Business School, Cardiff University, United Kingdom.

    Eimear Nolan is an Associate Professor in International Business at Trinity Business School, Trinity College Dublin, Ireland.

    Manuel F Ramirez is Lecturer in Organisation Studies at the University of Liverpool Management School, UK.

    Gazi Islam is Professor of People, Organizations and Society at Grenoble Ecole de Management, France.

    Dirk Lindebaum is Professor of Management and Organisation at the School of Management, University of Bath.

    Author: SRHE News Blog

    An international learned society, concerned with supporting research and researchers into Higher Education

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  • Religion and politics aren’t supposed to mix

    Religion and politics aren’t supposed to mix

    Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky says religion was one topic his family never mentioned at the dinner table.

    That could be because he’s from the Jewish minority, or because the overwhelming Orthodox Christian majority was split into different branches.

    Ukraine’s Orthodox have gradually become more Ukrainian, to the detriment of a once-powerful pro-Russian Church, and the trend has sped up now that Kyiv and Moscow are at war.

    The conflict between the pro-Kyiv Orthodox Church of Ukraine (OCU) and the pro-Moscow Ukrainian Orthodox Church (UOC) gets lost in the international coverage of the drama on the battlefield.

    But with about 80% of Ukrainians identifying as Orthodox Christians, even if probably less than half attend church regularly, this split between the two Churches seeps into politics.

    Christmas in Kyiv

    The religious conflict crept into the news last month when the pro-Kyiv Church authorized all Ukrainian parishes to celebrate Christmas on December 25 if they wished, rather than the traditional Orthodox date of January 7.

    The symbolism of allowing Christmas to be celebrated on the date used in the West was not lost on Ukrainian believers.

    The roots to this clash go back to the communist period. While Ukraine was part of the Soviet Union, it was under the umbrella of the Russian Orthodox Church.

    When the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, the Ukrainian Orthodox Church continued to operate in the newly sovereign Ukraine, but proclaimed its loyalty to the Moscow Patriarchate.

    Ukrainian patriots objected and said they deserved their own Church. Their rival Orthodox Church of Ukraine was created in 1992, soon after Ukraine’s independence. It was recognized as autocephalous (independent) by the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Istanbul — the highest authority in Orthodox Christianity — in 2019.

    The politics of praying in Ukrainian

    The two Churches have the same theology, liturgy and even architecture as the Moscow Church. But the Kyiv Church prays in Ukrainian rather than Church Slavonic and declares allegiance to Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew in Istanbul instead of Moscow’s Patriarch Kirill.

    Originally much larger, the Moscow Church saw parishes defecting to its rival, especially after the war began. Under this pressure, the Ukrainian branch declared its independence from Russia in May, condemned the invasion and refused to recognize Patriarch Kirill in its liturgies.

    It’s unclear now which Church is larger. But the head of the Kyiv Patriarchate, Metropolitan Epiphinius, told Religion News Service in May: “Every day, Ukrainians are gradually coming to understand which Church is truly Ukrainian and which Church is Russian.”

    The Moscow Patriarchate tried to shield off Russian-occupied Crimea by creating its own metropolitanate (archdiocese) there in June. The Kyiv Church refused to recognize this.

    When Putin annexed four Ukrainian territories in September — even though he did not completely control them — he tried to justify the move in religious terms, calling it a “glorious spiritual choice.”

    Sermons, spies and the Security Service

    But Kyiv increasingly saw the pro-Moscow Church as a fifth column, or spies of Putin. In October, the acting head of Ukraine’s Security Service revealed it had found 33 suspected Russian agents among the Moscow Church’s clergy in Ukraine.

    Some preached pro-Russian sermons, Kyiv said, some had anti-Ukrainian literature and some were army chaplains who passed on information about Ukrainian artillery batteries to Russian agents.

    That’s when the Kyiv Church authorized all Ukrainian parishes to celebrate Christmas on December 25 if they wished. On December 1, Zelensky upped the ante by calling for an official ban on all activities of the Moscow Patriarchate’s Church in Ukraine. Parliament was asked to draft a suitable law, which may be difficult given the provision in the Ukrainian constitution of freedom of religion.

    In late December, Ukraine refused to renew the Moscow Church’s lease on the Cathedral of the Dormition at Kyiv’s Monastery of the Caves, traditionally the center of Ukrainian Orthodoxy.

    On January 7, Metropolitan Epiphanius, head of the pro-Kyiv Church, celebrated the traditional Christmas there to show he was the new man in charge now.

    And in its latest turn to faith, Russia called for a 36-hour truce to mark the traditional Christmas on January 7. Kyiv and its western allies rejected this as a cynical ploy, and both sides continued shelling each other as if nothing had happened.

    The battlefield struggle is still the main story, both in its ultimate importance and in the David-and-Goliath story that readers understand. The religious rivalry will always be secondary.

    But these pinpricks on the faith front add up to a new phase in the growth of local nationalism, which helps buoy Ukrainian morale. In hoping to defeat a country he thought would easily give in, Putin has done more than anyone to forge a united and defiant Ukrainian nation.


     

    Three questions to consider:

    1. Why do politicians often appeal to religion during a war?

    2. Do mainstream journalists make religious angles clear in a conflict?

    3. When do separate small events add up to a noteworthy trend?


     

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  • Where are our young leaders?

    Where are our young leaders?

    Why is it that young leaders are in such short supply? 

    Former Irish President Mary Robinson recently gave one of the most forceful condemnations of Israel’s war on Gaza. Now the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, Robinson visited Egypt and the Rafah border and called on states to implement “decisive measures” to halt the genocide and famine in Gaza

    “Governments that are not using all the tools at their disposal to halt the unfolding genocide in Gaza are increasingly complicit,” she said.  

    Robinson is a member of an organization that calls itself “The Elders.” Founded in 2007 by Nelson Mandela, the South African political prisoner turned president, the group advocates peace, human rights and environmental sustainability. 

    In her comments, Robinson chided today’s leaders for not fulfilling their legal obligations. “Political leaders have the power and the legal obligation to apply measures to pressure this Israeli government to end its atrocity crimes,” she said. 

    Robinson is 81 years old. Where are the young leaders making such statements? Where are they organizing groups like The Elders? 

    Youth power

    The media’s attention to Robinson was impressive. Her August press conference was followed by several lengthy interviews on major networks. An independent group like The Elders — whose members include former presidents, UN officials and civil society activists — deserves recognition. It also invites reflection on the role of age in today’s accelerated time. 

    Being elderly and having once held an important position was not always politically positive. “Don’t trust anyone over 30,” was a popular expression in the 1960s. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was just 26 when he led the 1955 Montgomery bus boycott and 34 when he delivered his  “I Have a Dream” speech during the 1963 Washington rally in front of the Lincoln Memorial. John F. Kennedy was 30 when he was elected to the U.S. Congress and 43 when he was elected president. Student leaders made their marks on U.S. politics in the 1960s. 

    Mario Savio was 21 when he led the Berkeley Free Speech Movement in California, which demonstrated the political power of student protests. 

    Mark Rudd was a 20-year-old junior when he led strikes and student sit-ins at Columbia University to push for student involvement in university decision making.  

    Tom Hayden was 20 when he cofounded Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), a national student movement that opposed the Vietnam War and pushed for a complete reform of the political system. At age 22, he wrote the Port Huron Statement, a political manifesto that called for non-violent student activism and widespread civil disobedience achieve the international peace and economic equality that government leaders had failed to achieve. 

    Savio, Rudd and Hayden were more than just campus activists; they were front page national news. 

    Age politics

    Where are the student leaders opposing Trump’s attack on universities and freedom of expression now? College presidents, professors and boards of trustees are shouldering the burden. There is a generational vacuum. 

    Youth and youthful dynamism are no longer viewed as political positives. Today, no one could imagine the 79-year-old Donald Trump playing touch football on a beach in Florida as John F. Kennedy and family did at Hyannis Port on Cape Cod when he was president.

    In reality, Kennedy suffered from many serious medical conditions but they were largely hidden from the public; it was crucial that he maintain his youthful image. Trump swinging a golf club and riding in a golf cart is not a youthful image; even his awkward swing shows his age. 

    Nor are the pictures of the members of his Mar-a-Lago crowd youthful; they look like a meeting of grandparents. As slogans reflecting their times, Make America Great Again is far from the New Frontier which called for an end to poverty and investing in technology and science to send humans to the moon.

    Robinson visited the Rafah crossing with another member of The Elders, Helen Clark. Clark is 75 years old, the former Prime Minister of New Zealand and United Nations Development Program administrator. 

    Generational change

    Of her visit Clark said that she was horrified to learn from United Nations Sexual and Reproductive Health Agency that the birth rate in Gaza had dropped by over 40% in the first half of 2025, compared to the same period three years ago. “Many new mothers are unable to feed themselves or their newborn babies adequately, and the health system is collapsing,” Clark said. “All of this threatens the very survival of an entire generation.”

    Based on her years of experience, Clark wisely talked of generational change.

    Age benefits people who, like Robinson and Clark, have held important positions. Because of that experience, members of The Elders take no political risks by speaking out. 

    The 83-year-old U.S. Senator Bernie Sanders is a notable exception of an elder speaking out in the United States while still in office. For whatever reasons, the elderly members of the Senate — there are currently seven senators who are in their 80s and 17 are in their 70s — have been particularly silent on issues like Gaza. 

    In fact, they have been particularly silent on most issues. 

    Where are the Savio/Rudd/Haydens today? A comparable young leader is Greta Thunberg. Greta was only 15 when she initiated the climate strike movement Fridays for Future. But while Greta initiated the movement, she did not organize it as Tom Hayden did with the formation of the SDS. Thunberg is an important symbol and example of courage — the drone attack on her Gaza-bound “Freedom Flotilla” is beyond reprehensible and consistent with Israel’s total war — but she is not a movement organizer on a national or global level. 

    What makes statements by people like Robinson and Clark so impressive is that they stand out in a realm of stunning silence. 

    The New Frontier

    The Democratic Party in the United States, for example, has no serious leadership. (The same might be said for Socialists in Europe and the Labour Party in Great Britain.) The Democrats inability to rally around 33-year-old Zohran Mamdani who is running for mayor of New York City is an example of the Party’s cowardice and/or lack of vision. 

    While the older, established Democrats are quick to criticize Trump, they offer no new strategies or actions.

    We are desperately waiting for something new. JFK’s motto The New Frontier touched a foundational American embrace of the frontier, the space between the known and new. Back in 1893, historian Frederick Jackson Turner came up with a theory that the continual expansion of the American frontier westward allowed for continual reinvention and rebirth, and that shaped the character of the American people. This frontier theory is essential to an America’s identity built on always moving forward. In contrast, Trump’s return to the past is anti-frontier. MAGA is nostalgia and passé. 

    Where are today’s young progressives presenting new political possibilities as Hayden and his cohorts did with Port Huron and SDS? Or does asking that question show that I am being too nostalgic about the past as well?   

    A version of this article was published previously in the magazine Counterpunch.


     

    Questions to consider:

    1. Who are “The Elders” and what are they trying to achieve?

    2. What was “The New Frontier” and what did it say about the American character?

    3. Do you think you would be more likely to vote for some very old over someone very young for political office? Why?


     

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  • There’s all kinds of ways to bleep out speech

    There’s all kinds of ways to bleep out speech

    This morning we woke to the news that the ABC television network in the United States had suspended late night talk show host Jimmy Kimmel indefinitely over a statement he made about the accused assassin of right-wing political activist Charlie Kirk. In July, the CBS network announced that it would end The Late Show with Stephen Colbert in May. Colbert has for years mocked and criticized Donald Trump. These two announcements got us thinking about all the different ways governments and those in power try to silence speech.

    The very first amendment to the U.S. Constitution begins with this phrase:

    Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press …

    Because of that amendment, the world has long considered the United States the model for free speech — few countries live up to the standard that the United States has historically set. But across the world now, free speech seems to be endangered. So to put into perspective the many ways censorship can occur and in the many places we see this happening, we decided to offer up an assortment of News Decoder stories on this topic by both our professional correspondents and student authors.

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  • How Redistricting Threatens Democracy in the 2026 US House Elections

    How Redistricting Threatens Democracy in the 2026 US House Elections

    As the 2026 midterm elections approach, efforts to manipulate congressional district boundaries—under the guise of redistricting—pose a serious threat to representative democracy in the United States. These efforts are not simply a matter of partisan politics; they represent a calculated attack on the principle of one person, one vote, and on the fragile trust working Americans place in democratic institutions.

    Across multiple states, redistricting maps are being drawn to favor incumbents and dominant political parties, most often through a practice known as gerrymandering. While both major parties have been guilty of gerrymandering, the recent wave of redistricting efforts has intensified in key battleground states, particularly following the 2020 Census and court rulings that rolled back federal oversight.

    Some of the most blatant manipulations are unfolding in Southern and Midwestern states, where legislatures have redrawn districts to dilute the voting power of Black, Latino, and low-income communities. In states like Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, North Carolina, and Ohio, courts have intervened—only to be ignored, delayed, or overruled by higher courts, including the U.S. Supreme Court. The result: districts that favor white conservative voters while silencing diverse urban and working-class voices.

    These distortions in representation aren’t merely political—they have real consequences for education policy, healthcare, labor rights, and civil rights. When working families and students find themselves in districts designed to neutralize their votes, their needs are less likely to be met by elected officials. Funding for public education, protections for contingent workers, and relief from student loan debt are often neglected in favor of corporate interests and ideological agendas.

    The U.S. Supreme Court’s 2019 Rucho v. Common Cause decision paved the way for even more aggressive gerrymandering, ruling that federal courts could not adjudicate claims of partisan gerrymandering. That decision effectively gave state legislatures a green light to draw lines with political intent, even when the result undermines basic democratic principles. And with the Voting Rights Act gutted in Shelby County v. Holder (2013), many communities of color no longer have a legal shield against discriminatory maps.

    In a just system, redistricting would be handled by independent commissions. In some states, this is happening—California, Michigan, Arizona, and a handful of others have taken steps toward fairer maps. But in most of the country, the party in power controls the process and uses sophisticated data tools—often developed by private firms with little transparency—to fine-tune districts down to the household level. This isn’t democracy. It’s data-driven voter suppression.

    For students, low-income voters, and working-class Americans, the implications are profound. A House of Representatives that does not reflect the electorate cannot be expected to act on behalf of its needs. Adjunct professors, student debtors, gig workers, rural teachers, and public librarians already operate on the margins. When their political voices are diluted, they are pushed even further to the periphery.

    These redistricting battles also have an educational cost. In states where partisan gerrymandering has secured one-party rule, legislatures have targeted curriculum content, attacked diversity and inclusion programs, cut higher education funding, and undermined faculty tenure—all without meaningful opposition. Political disempowerment leads directly to institutional decay.

    The Higher Education Inquirer calls attention to these developments not only because they distort elections, but because they warp the social and economic future of the country. The 2026 House elections may be won or lost not at the ballot box but on a redistricting map drafted behind closed doors in state capitals.

    The right to vote is hollow if the outcome is predetermined. The promise of representative government collapses if districts are engineered to deny equal voice. Without public awareness and pressure, these efforts to undermine democracy will go unchecked.

    It’s time to speak plainly: Unless there is a national movement to restore fairness to the process, the House of Representatives in 2026 will be even less representative of the people it claims to serve.

    Sources:

    • Brennan Center for Justice. “The Redistricting Landscape, 2023–2026.”

    • ProPublica. “How Politicians Use Redistricting to Lock in Power.”

    • NPR. “Supreme Court Ruling Lets Partisan Gerrymandering Stand.”

    • Southern Coalition for Social Justice. “Voting Maps and Racial Disenfranchisement.”

    • ACLU. “Gerrymandering: How It Works and Why It Harms Democracy.”

    • U.S. Census Bureau. “Apportionment and Redistricting Data.”

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