The Thai court's decision to suspend Prime Minister Paetongtarn Shinawatra over a leaked call is more than a national scandal—it's a cautionary tale in the global narrative of populist politics and its inherent vulnerabilities. This incident underscores the risk of electing leaders based on charisma rather than competence, a trend that threatens to erode democratic institutions worldwide.
A recent survey has revealed that half of employees have excessive privileged access at their workplaces, escalating the risk of insider threats. As artificial intelligence permeates every aspect of business and society, this impending insecurity looms larger. Sam Altman's warning about AI displacing entire job categories may soon seem less hypothetical, as the potential for misuse grows within highly automated environments [1, 4]. But amid this chaos, there is an opportunity to reflect on how technology is reshaping our communal ties, offering a path to reconcile security with inter-generational understanding.
With the recent announcement that iconic global destinations are becoming more expensive for Canadians, the story is not just one of economic strain but one of cultural access and memory. The Louvre, the Colosseum, and Machu Picchu are more than tourist attractions; they are sites where cultures intersect, and histories are both preserved and challenged. As entrance fees rise, we must ask ourselves what this means for the collective memory these monuments curate and who gets to participate in this storytelling.
As the push to mine the ocean floor gathers steam, spearheaded by an ambitious corporation with Trump’s backing, we find ourselves at a precarious crossroads. This latest endeavor, described by its proponents as a necessary stride for technological advancement, promises access to vast reserves of nickel and cobalt beneath the Pacific Ocean [1]. Yet, the true cost of this venture extends far beyond environmental concerns, echoing the heat traps and social divides observed in cities plagued by inequitable policies. Anthropologists, who interpret urban landscapes as reflections of power dynamics, warn that the consequences of deep-sea mining could mirror the stark inequalities seen above ground. As history has shown, the benefits are likely to favor the few, while the risks are shared by all.