The Unexpected Symbols Driving Iran’s Environmental Movement

Africa is often described as a continent of extremes. Vast deserts give way to lush rainforests; humid coastlines sit beside high, cool plateaus; ancient savannas stretch for thousands of kilometers. Life in Africa has always existed at the edge of change, shaped by heat and drought, abundance and scarcity. Survival here has never been guaranteed, it has had to be earned, generation by generation, through adaptation. Nowhere is this long story of adjustment and resilience written more clearly than in DNA.

Researchers Maryam Doroudian and Jürgen Gailer from the University of Calgary explore what happens when red blood cells rupture and release a zinc-containing enzyme called carbonic anhydrase 1 into the bloodstream, revealing that it remains unexpectedly free and may influence vascular health. Their work also connects to broader research showing how liquid chromatography is transforming our ability to study toxic cadmium and mercury as they move through the body. Together, these studies uncover hidden biochemical processes that shape how environmental pollutants and blood-cell damage affect human health.

If you walk through the bustling streets of Tehran, you might first notice the traffic, the densely packed apartments, or young people weaving through the city on motorbikes. But if you look a little closer, you may notice banners stretching across overpasses, tiny flags lining the perimeters of parks, or posters taped to walls, and you might just begin to sense something else humming quietly in the background: a story about nature, identity, and the nation itself. According to Prof. Satoshi Abe of Tottori University, Japan, who has researched environmental activism in Iran, the country is experiencing not just an environmental crisis, but an environmental reimagining. Iranians are not simply debating water shortages, air pollution, or endangered species, though they are certainly doing that. They are also wrestling with questions about what “nature” means within the story of Iran.

In an era defined by constant pressure, chronic stress, and escalating performance demands, the question of how humans sustain physical and mental effectiveness has never been more urgent. From soldiers operating under sleep deprivation and extreme physical strain to civilians navigating relentless workloads and psychological stress, fatigue has become the defining challenge of modern life. However, fatigue is not simply a matter of willpower or motivation; it is a complex biological signal arising from the interaction of muscles, metabolism, the brain, and the autonomic nervous system. Recent research, including work led and coauthored by Dr. Reginald O’Hara, Director of the Applied Health and Performance Division at Sophic Synergistics in Houston Texas, and former Director of the Military Performance Laboratory at Brooke Army Medical Center and the Air Force Research Laboratory, offers a more sophisticated understanding of how performance can be preserved, without pushing the human body beyond its safe limits.

We often take our bodies for granted, treating them as vehicles to get us through the day or as objects to manage and control. But author and Jungian Analyst Barbara Holifield's book Being with the Body in Depth Psychology challenges this view, arguing that the body is the foundation of our sense of self and the lens through which we encounter the world. Depth psychology has seldom treated the body as an intrinsic aspect of our psychology, and when it has, it rarely delves into the body as experienced. Through in-depth case studies, Holifield’s two important chapters - Chapter 2, Sensing the Self, Sensing the World, and Chapter 4, Attaining Embodiment: A Developmental Perspective - explore how we come to feel at home in our bodies and why this matters for both psychological health and human growth.

In the world of opioid addiction treatment, the hardest moment often arrives precisely when hope begins to emerge. It is the moment someone chooses to stop using opioids. That decision, courageous and life-changing, almost immediately collides with one of the most punishing physiologic syndromes known in medicine: opioid withdrawal. Withdrawal brings waves of nausea, sweats, shaking, cramps, insomnia, anxiety, and extremely intense cravings. For countless individuals, this moment is a seemingly inescapable stumbling block that can be the undoing of their recovery. They want to stop, they mean to stop, but withdrawal can become an insurmountable barrier.

In today’s world, the internet is more than a tool. It can be a place where friendships are built, identities are explored, and young people find connection. For teenagers, digital spaces are a huge component of their lives. However, the way we talk about online safety often feels like it belongs to another era, one rooted in adult fears rather than young people’s lived experiences. A project led by the Young and Resilient Research Centre at Western Sydney University, in partnership with the PROJECT ROCKIT Foundation with funding from Australia’s eSafety Commissioner, set out to bridge this disconnect. Instead of telling young people how they “should” behave online, the researchers conducted a survey of 104 young people and workshops with 31 young Australians aged 12 to 17 which asked them directly: What does online safety mean to you? What do you wish adults understood? What would your ideal online world look like? How do you want to learn about online safety? The results were eye-opening and led to the development of a framework to reimagine how online safety education for young people is designed and delivered

Research from Assistant Professor Ligeia Quackelbeen at Tilburg University examines how international criminal courts categorize cultural practices such as forced marriage, revealing issues with current legal approaches. Using a landmark case as a primary example, the analysis demonstrates how judges rely on rigid checklist-based reasoning that fails to adequately consider cultural contexts. The research examines the benefits of adopting prototype theory from cognitive science to enable more culturally sensitive legal interpretations that better understand local practices rather than applying generic Western-centered definitions.

Step into a natural history museum, sometimes called a ‘dead zoo’, and you will find yourself surrounded by silence. Behind glass cases and inside drawers lie animals long gone: the Tasmanian tiger, the quagga, birds that no longer take flight, creatures whose skins and bones now carry only the weight of memory. These preserved remains are meant to represent care - careful handling, careful storage, and careful cataloguing, in a tribute to the long dead and sometimes extinct. But as Dr Katrina Schlunke, from the University of Potsdam and Sydney, argues, the care offered by museums is not so simple. It is bound up with histories of colonialism, extinction, and exclusion, which are typically not explored or acknowledged in the displays we encounter.

Science diplomacy, meaning the use of scientific collaboration to strengthen international relations and address shared global challenges, has long been hailed as a force for good. Yet, as Dr. Rasha Bayoumi of the University of Birmingham Dubai and her colleagues argue in their Editorial for a special issue in the journal Frontiers in Public Health, this optimism often masks uncomfortable realities. The practice of science diplomacy has too often reproduced the very inequalities it aims to dismantle, operating within frameworks that privilege powerful nations and institutions while marginalizing voices from the Global South.