Sailor Matt Rutherford has dreamed for several years of becoming the first person to circumnavigate the Arctic Ocean solo, nonstop and unassisted. He finally set out from western Greenland on June 25 to achieve this goal, but threatening encounters with Russia's security agency less than two months later forced him to reverse course.

Rutherford is the founder and executive director of the nonprofit environmental organization Ocean Research Project, which gathers and analyzes marine data from a sailboat. His route took him around the southern tip of Greenland, through the Denmark Strait and into the Greenland Sea. From there, he sailed through the Norwegian and Barents seas, and reached Russia's Novaya Zemlya archipelago in mid-August.

He was planning to continue to Canada and end his journey where it started, but Russian officials halted him in his tracks and ordered him to turn around.

On his way home, Rutherford told Live Science about his adventures and why he wants to complete this loop. In an interview on Sept. 23, he also revealed what he'll do differently on his next attempt to avoid another Russian interception.

Sascha Pare: Where are you currently, and what are the conditions like?

Matt Rutherford: I'm about halfway between Greenland and Newfoundland in the Labrador Sea. The conditions aren't too bad; I mean, it's close to a gale, but it's not quite a gale. [Editor's note: A gale is defined as an area of sustained surface winds of 34 to 47 knots (39 to 54 miles per hour).] It's just a little hard to do anything. I've got dishes in the sink that are all wedged in there that I really need to deal with ‪—‬ but I don't feel like it, because you're just getting tossed around. Waves are crashing on the cockpit. Normally, I do video calls under a dodger [a canvas screen on a boat or ship that provides protection from spray], and you can see the ocean in the background… But I'm going to get hit by a wave if I do that.

SP: You're sailing home to Maryland after a rather perilous expedition. How long have you been at sea for?

MR: I left in mid-May, and I've been basically underway for the most part since then. At this time, currently, I've only been at sea for a few days, because I left Greenland a few days ago. The longest stretch I was continuously at sea this year is 59 days, although I was planning on doing longer than that, so that sucked. Essentially, I was attempting to do a nonstop, single-handed circumnavigation of the Arctic. That's where this all sort of came out of. I tried in 2018, but you couldn't get the Russian permits. And the Russians were the problem in the end [this year]. I got defeated by Russian bureaucracy, essentially. And there was some weird stuff going on with the ice up there this year. [Editor's note: Sections of the High Arctic were impassable due to a relatively cold summer and solid ice fields.]

SP: What happened with the Russians that forced you to turn back?

MR: The FSB got me. [Editor's note: The Federal Security Service (FSB) is Russia's main security agency and a successor to the Soviet Union's KGB.] They boarded me twice, actually. I've never been boarded in the ocean in my life, and I've been sailing 20 years, all over the place. I got about 1,000 miles [1,600 kilometers] into Russia, roughly. I got into the Northern Sea Route. If you just draw a line due north, I was due north of West China — it was way over there, about halfway around the world in the Arctic. I made it about halfway, because I started in Aasiaat, Greenland.

They boarded me once, and then they turned me around and boarded me again. It's a bit of a strange situation, I guess. Two days after I turned around, the ice that I was waiting to open opened, and I sent them an email — the NSRA, the Northern Sea Route Association in Moscow — and said, "Hey, it's open. Can I pretty please go?" And they just got mad at me, like, "You'll be in violation of your permit; you have to turn around."

SP: You're planning to try the circumnavigation again next year. Will you do anything differently to make sure you complete it?

MR: The boat's pretty good to go ‪—‬ which is great, because that's a huge time sink. Ideally, hopefully, if I can get north of [the Norwegian archipelago] Svalbard again like I did this year, then I'm going to stay north of [the Russian archipelago] Franz Josef Land, and I'm going to basically ride the polar ice cap all the way from Svalbard to the Northwest Passage — all the way to Alaska and beyond, essentially.

Because I've learned how the FSB operate, and I know where they're keeping their ships now. Even though I was north of Novaya Zemlya, they still were able to get me. But if I'm over there, north of Frank Josef, they don't go that far, so they won't be able to get me up there. I've figured out a couple of other things that I'm not even going to say, honestly ‪—‬ there are workarounds to get them to [leave me alone]. I'm going to go a little bit quiet.

The NSRA gives you the permit to do this, but the FSB are the people who patrol it. And the FSB don't like the NSRA. I learned that when they boarded me, because they think that they're the ones who should control the Northern Sea Route, not the NSRA. So there's [a] beef between them; they don't talk. There's a lack of communication, which benefits me. I can lean heavy onto the NSRA side, because they don't have boats; they're not going to board you. And they're the ones you have to check in with every 24 hours in Moscow; you've got to send them an email every 24 hours. So I'll do all of that stuff with those guys, but I think there's some ways I can avoid the FSB even knowing where I am, essentially, while still complying with my permit in the NSRA.

Basically, I've got to do the Northern Sea Route without getting within 12 miles [19 km] of any Russian land, period ‪—‬ even a little island, even a rock that sticks out that's 10 feet by 10 feet [3 by 3 m]. That's going to be real tricky, because there are a lot of little islands down there. But the FSB is mostly on the European side; they have almost no boats over on the east side or the middle. So if you can get past the European side by hugging the coast way the hell north, hopefully I can get past where they patrol, and then I can just shoot on through.

Nobody else in the world does this ‪—‬ nobody else in the Arctic, nobody else anywhere. There's literally no other body of water on Earth where you've got to get permits, and then you've got to get boarded like this. It's only Russia, and only north of Russia. And that's because there's a huge amount of natural gas, they think, buried above Russia. So Russia's trying to claim everything to the North Pole.

Technically, it's international waters, so the U.N. is like, "No, this is not right." And Russia's like, "Whatcha gonna do about it?" It's kind of hard to argue with that ‪—‬ and it's north of Russia, so nobody else is there. They've got free rein, and they've got all the icebreakers and whatever else.

Everything else is about the same. I need to secure my hot sauce better, because every time I open my cabinet, they fall out all over the place. There's little things like that ‪—‬ quality-of-life things. I'll probably bring some more heated socks — electric socks and electric gloves. I'll try to make better videos — but I'm not a content creator, and I don't want to be an influencer.

SP: Can you tell me a bit about your background and what led you to this point?

MR: I did this whole circumnavigation of the Americas — nonstop, single-handed — back in 2011 where I spent 309 days alone at sea on this little 27-foot (8 meters) boat. When I got back from that big, crazy trip — which I made a documentary about ["Red Dot on the Ocean: The Matt Rutherford Story"] — I created a nonprofit called Ocean Research Project, where, basically, we use sailboats to do research. We focused mostly in 2013 and 2014 on garbage-patch-related microplastics. In 2013, we mapped out the eastern side of the Atlantic garbage patch, because nobody had got to the eastern side of it. I think it was 160,000 pieces per square kilometer, or something like that. And then, we did some stuff in 2014 in the Pacific garbage patch with the University of Tokyo; we did a joint paper with them.

But mostly what we focus on is Arctic research. Since 2015, we've been heading up to Greenland — sometimes the Northwest Passage also, but primarily Greenland — doing research related to glaciers, for the most part. An ocean-terminating glacier sort of has a river of melted water underneath it, and it creates upwelling, and the upwelling has nutrients. So it mixes nutrients with the ocean and creates this perfect recipe for growth for phytoplankton and zooplankton. And then, we look at the different stages of decay between an ocean-terminating glacier, a land-retreated glacier or a deglaciated fjord. In the middle phase, when a glacier starts retreating back on land, it just creates a river of muddy water, essentially; it turns the fjord into a mud puddle. You can't have photosynthesis if you're in a mud puddle.

SP: Have you been collecting samples or data on this expedition?

MR: Well, it's a little tricky on a boat under these circumstances. I took 50 samples, which were just water samples, and those were from Newfoundland to Aasiaat, Greenland. Nicole [Nicole Trenholm, Ocean Research Project's science director] has a NASA internship out at JPL [Jet Propulsion Laboratory]. She was publishing a paper looking at their model that they have [ECCO-Darwin], and I've kind of forced my way into the paper — well, the organization did, with Nicole's help — by adding these samples. Now we have in situ data, physical data, that we can compare to the model data. That was the only thing we did this year. It's a couple-thousand-mile stretch with 50 water samples in it, so it's a pretty straightforward sort of thing.

Nicole is trying to publish multiple peer-reviewed scientific papers from our previous data. She's got a traffic jam of data, so she needed some time to finish publishing papers from stuff we've collected over the last few years. There is no money anyways. I could still grab some samples on the way up there [Greenland]. And it's trying to promote the nonprofit through it, because people will pay a lot more attention to this stuff than they pay to traditional research expeditions.

SP: What are your hopes for the Ocean Research Project once you tick off this goal?

MR: Basically, we're trying to expand the organization over the next couple of years. I'd like to bring in another one or two more scientists, because we're up there for three months in Greenland, and sometimes we go to the Northwest Passage — and it's a lot for one scientist.

The big problem we're having is that when Elon Musk was part of DOGE [U.S. Department of Government Efficiency], they cut a massive amount of polar funding — something like 88% of it — because apparently climate change is a hoax and they hate it and you're not allowed to research it either, right?

Basically, nobody's got money. We don't typically get NSF [National Science Foundation] funding; we get more foundation funding, because it's hard to get NSF funding, even before all this stuff. Now that the funding has been cut on the governmental level, a lot more scientists are going after the foundation grants that we used to have a lot less competition for. That makes it a little tricky, too, because now they're getting a flood of requests that they didn't usually get in the past.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

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FRASCATI, Italy — Observing Earth from space provides a much-needed insight into the evolution of our planet's health. This is particularly important in the face of climate change, as environmental degradation, food insecurity and extreme weather events can all reveal themselves in stark images taken from high above our planet's surface.

Simonetta Cheli is the director of Earth observation programs at the European Space Agency (ESA) and the head of the European Space Research Institute (ESRIN) in Frascati, Italy. With nearly 40 years of experience in the field, she is one of the world's leading experts on Earth observation.

Live Science spoke with Cheli on a recent visit to ESRIN to talk about why Earth observation is so important, how NASA budget cuts and political changes have altered the picture, and why private space satellites risk our ability to view the planet clearly.

She also discussed how new supercomputers, like ESRIN's newly operational Space HPC, are helping to process vast amounts of data like never before — and shared her favorite recent satellite snap of our planet

Harry Baker: Why is observing Earth from space so important?

Simonetta Cheli: It's important because we need to know today what is the state of our planet, if it's healthy or if it's in danger, if it's stressed or not.

It's important to have objective information on many different variables, such as deforestation, the quality of the air that we breathe, the evolution of the oceans or the melting of ice masses. Basically, we need to be aware of what the situation is on Earth today, so we can preserve it tomorrow.

HB: How has ESA's Earth observation program changed throughout your career?

SC: When I started at ESA [in 1988], we were relying on missions from partners, including the Americans and Japanese. We didn't have our own missions.

We launched the first mission [ERS-1] in 1991. Today, just here at ESRIN, we manage over 20 missions and are planning more than 40 more. We have also launched three different missions in the last three weeks — one to look at how oceanography impacts extreme weather events [International Report for an Innovative Defence of Earth]; one to monitor the fluorescence and health status of vegetation [Fluorescence Explorer]; and one to measure temperature on land and sea [Sentinel-3C], which was a super useful thing this summer.

Europe is now a leading power in this domain worldwide. We have evolved a lot.

HB: How important is it to cooperate with other countries when observing our planet from above?

SC: Well, I must say, in ESA, it's in the DNA of our work. ESA includes 23 countries today, so we work together daily. We also work very closely with other commercial partners and the European Union, as well as international partners like NASA, Brazil, India and Africa. So this is part of our job, and very much also in the domain I'm managing.

To tackle climate and environmental stability, you cannot just do things alone at the national level. You have to share data and work with everybody in the world, where you have to have common objectives. For example, what happens to Greenland affects everybody on Earth, not just the people who live there. So the collaboration, I think, is very much inherent in our daily job at ESA and between our partners.

HB: Given the recent cuts to NASA's funding, including its Earth observation budget, does ESA feel a bigger responsibility to step up and fill the gap?

SC: I think we certainly have a bigger opportunity in the sense that today, with the systems we have and the satellites we have and the missions we have, even before the political context. For example, we were already leading the U.S. with data on emissions.

We have a very good working-level collaboration with our American partners. This is somehow preserved, although politically it is, of course, more delicate. We used to go to the climate conferences together. We are not anymore.

HB: ESA just launched the latest batch of satellites in the IRIDE constellation (an Italian funded network of Earth-observing spacecraft designed and operated by ESA). What makes these satellites so special? And how are they helping your research?

SC: We launched the latest eight [satellites] last night! (The IRIDE satellites launched on Oct. 1, the day before this interview took place.)

Sixty-eight satellites are planned overall in this constellation, and we have launched quite a few [39] already, and plan to launch some more before the end of the year.

The network will collect a lot of data from the optical radar spectrum that will support different user needs: for example, in the civil protection area, in coastal erosion monitoring, in coast guard operations and in environmental stress analysis. And so this system will certainly be a big contribution to the wider European Earth observation setup.

HB: The number of private satellites, like in SpaceX's Starlink constellation, is increasing fast. Are you worried about the impacts that this might have on your scientific spacecraft?

SC: We are worried because we see that the anti-collision maneuvers are increasing and increasing. When my mission manager tells me we have to move the satellite because there is a risk of collision with another satellite, we have to go check with ESO [European Southern Observatory] in Germany, and then the operations center moves the satellite. And the number [of times we've done this] has certainly increased in the last four or five years due to the increased number of satellites up there.

For the moment, the technical collaboration with partners is going quite well. So when we see someone else's satellite, we actually try to organize things as best we can, and technically it's working well. But what we need for the future is a clear framework at the legal level, which is engaging everybody.

"Everybody" in space is no longer only the institutional partners; it's not just the space agencies of the world that should engage. Today, you have private actors, like Starlink, and if they don't engage in the same rules, you risk having a delicate situation. But this is something that we are discussing daily, and we're tackling.

HB: The whole point of Earth observation is to protect our planet. How do you feel about some of the negative impacts of launching satellites, such as exhaust plumes, metal pollution and space junk?

SC: There is a very strong objective linked to sustainability at ESA. It is not just about using the data to better preserve our planet; it's also about being sustainable in the daily work we do.

This is linked to, for example, trying to have a space debris policy; trying to have enough propellant on board of the satellites that we build to make sure that once they finish their lifetime, they come back with a re-entry assist and they don't stay there in orbit. And the same is true in the launcher domain, where there's a very strong effort from our partners in French Guiana [where ESA's only active launch site is located] to lessen our impact as much as possible on the environment with the launch setup.

There's a really dedicated team doing all this.

HB: How will AI systems and advanced computers, like Space HPC, help researchers process data? And what sort of things could that help you do?

SC: We have today a wealth of data that is continually increasing. Just in the Copernicus program [Europe's biggest Earth observation initiative], we receive 500 terabytes of data per day.

We also have big volumes of data in the archives here at ESRIN from science missions of international partners, including Japan, India, the U.S. and others. This "heritage data" guarantees that archival data of missions that have ended are preserved, which is super important.

So instruments like SpaceHPC, which have high computing capability, help us a lot to process those datasets faster.

HB: What is your favorite satellite photo of Earth?

SC: I have too many favorite satellite photos, I must say. But this summer, the one I really found striking was a thermal image of Europe's heatwaves because, in that image, you see that the temperature on land and on sea was increasing so much.

It was captured by Sentinel-3B [a predecessor of the recently launched Sentinel-3C], and you see the red in the sea, and you see the red on the land, and I think it gives the feeling of the heat wave that we've all been living through this summer. We had, I would say, the hottest summer ever.

But it makes me feel that we can do a lot about it. It makes me feel that we have tools and certainly information capabilities to support, help, and also raise awareness about this topic.

So right now that is a favorite, but there are so many [other photos].

This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

In the early medieval period, the Vikings were just one part of a vast tapestry of Scandinavians who ruled, sailed, traded and fought around the world, from North America to Asia. In his new book, "The Sea-King and the Sorceress: Life and Death in the Viking Age" (Basic Books, 2026), author Neil Price, professor and chair of archaeology at Uppsala University in Sweden, reveals the true diversity and complexity of people who lived during the Viking Age (often dating from A.D. 793 to 1066).

Price investigates more than 20 burials from the Viking Age, lingering on details that can tell us about these individuals and their world. He also shines a light on frequently overlooked groups, including the enslaved people known as thralls that the Norse ruled over and even sacrificed in some of their burials. Price also delves into the realms of powerful women, including a "shield-maiden" buried with war-grade weapons in Sweden, a "sorceress" in Denmark, and an elderly matriarch whose children carved out a local empire in Sweden.

In an interview with Live Science, Price talks about his new book, and the evidence we have for the familiar yet foreign lives they lived centuries ago.

Read an excerpt: 'The back of her head had been removed by a single blow from a sharp blade': Archaeological clues are revealing the horrific lives and deaths of the people enslaved by Vikings

Laura Geggel: The Vikings are popularly known for being brutish and bloodthirsty pillagers, but the individuals in your book show the rich diversity of people from this time. Why did you decide to write this book and feature their stories?

Neil Price: I think quite simply because of the cliche that you've just mentioned, the idea that the Vikings are all barbarian raiders who go about burning down churches and frightening the English and things. Those raiders were certainly real, but they were only ever a tiny minority of the Scandinavian population, and I wanted to bring out all the different kinds of Viking lives, and that's why this book really came together.

It's divided into chapters, each one of which looks at a different kind of person, you know, a farmer, or an ambassador, or someone who uses magic, or a hunter. And I'm quite pleased that the Viking — the sort of raiding and pillaging Viking — it takes a while to get to him.

LG: How would you define the epitome of a Viking from that age?

The actual Viking, it comes from an old Norse word from their own language: víkingr. And really it's a job description, it means something like pirate — not necessarily negatively. It just describes maritime robbery with violence. So it is the classic image of the Viking stereotype.

But it was never a name for a people. If we could go back in time and just meet some people in Scandinavia and say, "Did you know that you're all Vikings?" — they'd be astonished.

It's a name, a collective name that we've given them. It started in the 19th century, really. So, they wouldn't have called themselves that.

LG: Your book starts with the sea-king, a commander and his crew who were buried in boats with swords and shields in Estonia. Usually, the Viking Age is said to have begun in 793 with the raid on the island of Lindisfarne in the U.K., but you say this burial suggests that the Viking Age started earlier and in another part of Europe. Can you tell us more about this?

NP: When I started studying Vikings at college — so this is back in the early 1980s, a long, long time ago — the Viking Age did start not just in 793; It started on the eighth of June 793 with the Lindisfarne raid.

Obviously it's absurd that an entire period of time starts on an afternoon, you know, not the day before or the day after. So it's obvious that we're talking about something that is really a matter of social processes, things that go on over a long period of time. But the thing that makes the finds that are in the sea-king chapter — they're from this place called Salme in Estonia — really interesting is that they seem to be the remains of, or the traces of a raid.

It's decades before Lindisfarne, it's about 750. And obviously on an island on the Estonian coast, it's going east, not west. So it really pushes that [raiding] behavior a lot earlier and it reorientates it. Even then, we shouldn't see the Vikings in that find as being the first Vikings. Actually the Scandinavians had been raiding all over the place for generations.

LG: I really enjoyed your focus on women, since stereotypically the Viking Age is associated with burly male warriors. What are some roles that women held in the Viking Age that you don't think most people know about?

NP: Something that particularly interests me, which is something I've worked on for a very long time now, is that when we think about Norse religion, everyone thinks about the gods. You know, they're still around in Marvel movies and things — we think of Thor and Odin and Freya and so on.

But actually, the [thing that was] far more present than the gods in people's lives were lots of kinds of local spirits and creatures and the elves that live in the stone behind your house. Getting in contact with that world of supernatural creatures and forces and powers — or whatever we call them — was something that was very much in the domain of women.

And it's a really important thing. So we shouldn't just say, "Oh, and some of them did magic." They're like negotiators, because you want to get on well with all these little creatures. If you don't, they could mess up your life, you know — your cattle could die, your crops could fail, that kind of thing. You could get sick.

So the practice of, it's hard to know what to call it in English. Sorcery or magic — they're not very good words, but there's lots of Norse words for it. To be able to do that is a very powerful thing and it's a very prominent role in society. And this was very much in the domain of women.

I think actually women could take on many of the roles that we conventionally assign to men. In terms of capability, of course they could. There are some, rather few I think, but there are some female Vikings, like actual Vikings, there are women conducting trade, owning property, investing in business ventures, things like that. So they have a very prominent role in Norse society.

We talked about Lindisfarne just now. When I started studying the Vikings, Viking women were one display case in the museum exhibition, next to the display case on pottery or something. Not half the population, and that has really changed. I think we look at Viking Age people now, not just assuming they're male by default.

LG: Actually, to linger, you described a number of women and their professions. Could you tell me more about these two amazing women in your book from Birka: the merchant and the warrior?

NP: Birka is this huge town. It's Sweden's first urban center, and it's absolutely surrounded by burial mounds. So you have the area of the town and then all the people who lived in it. You can wander through their cemetery, which is a pretty spectacular place — there's 5,000 burial mounds.

The merchant woman that you mentioned, she's one of the earlier graves [circa 840s], so she's one of the first people who would have identified as being someone who lives in a town. Today we talk about "I'm a city person" or a "country person," and that's an identity that was only just beginning to be created in the Viking Age, because everybody was country people. With the first towns, people start to live in a different way, and this woman was one of them.

If we look in her grave, she has things that have come from all over the western Viking world, things that I think probably came as loot from the raids, so she knew somebody who was involved in those things.

But you look at the stuff that's there, it seems pretty likely that she is a merchant in her own right, perhaps someone dealing in textiles. This idea of a businesswoman setting up a shop in Birka and maybe importing textiles or making them, having them made, because she's probably not working the loom, you know. It gives us a glimpse of a different kind of Viking life, one that I don't think we're accustomed to seeing and we should.

And then the warrior is about 100 years later than the merchant woman, when Birka has grown; it's quite a big settlement by then that's a really powerful place.

It's become quite militarized, so it has a fortification wall and it has a fortress, and there's a garrison building, which is a really amazing structure actually. It's partly made of weapons. There are weapons in the walls and on the floors. Around the building are a number of burials with lots of weapons in them. It's quite easy to say that a burial with lots of weapons is a warrior, but that's an interpretation. We can't be sure that the things buried with the dead were their possessions. We kind of assume that that's the case, but clearly not always. So there's a bit of a question mark there.

This burial was excavated like most of the ones in Birka in the 1870s, so a long time ago. And this grave is absolutely full of weapons. It's got all the weapons. And out of all the about 1,100 burials that were excavated on Birka, only two have a complete set of weapons, so this is rare. It's a very spectacular grave.

This burial has been reprinted again and again. [Iit's] in like every book on the Vikings. So it's been put forward as a kind of ultimate Viking: This is what proper Vikings looked like, you know, all the gear. And because it was excavated in the 1870s, it's always been assumed that this person was male. It's not hard to see where that assumption comes from, but it's actually been consistent ever since.

Then, between 2011 and 2017, first a series of osteological studies looking at the bones, and then DNA, confirmed that this person was female. And actually the team that worked on it, which included me, none of us were particularly surprised.

It was kind of exciting and interesting, but it's like, "Oh wow, you know, they really did have female warriors." So all the previous interpretations, it seemed to us, were pretty valid, it's just that this is a female, the ultimate Viking.

[Editor's note: Following the 2017 study, there was an intense reaction to the interpretation that the woman in the grave was a Viking Age warrior.]

LG: So you weren't expecting the backlash that occurred afterward?

No, we weren't, it was extreme. I'm not going to go into that in any detail, but some people were very, very happy, and some people were really not, and there we are.

It also highlights that all of these things are interpretations. You very rarely find something that is beyond any doubt what it is. Then there's also things with all of the burials in the book and all the burials that we excavate — people have quite long lives, hopefully. And if you were a warrior when you're 18 and you live to be 70, are you buried with all the weapons? Maybe not. Who knows?

That applies to any other kind of profession. So we don't know [if the different events and professions] in somebody's life course [are] represented in the burial. Is it when they die, or is it somebody who did something famous when they were young, and that is in the grave. We don't know. So there's lots of question marks, but the one thing it does show is the diversity of life in the Viking Age. There's so many different kinds of people, which is not a surprise, really, but it's something I just wanted to bring out in the book.

LG: You don't just talk about Vikings, but about those who lived alongside them. In one chapter, you describe a Sámi burial of a bear that they had killed and feasted on. What do we know about bear burials and why the Sámi did them? [Editor's note: The Sámi are an Indigenous people who currently live in the northern Nordic countries and part of Russia.]

NP: Well, the bear is a holy animal to the Sámi, and it's obviously a massive source of protein and food and pelts, you know, all kinds of useful things. But what I really wanted to get at was the idea of personhood. If you think about all the different kinds of prejudice, some people are sort of "more people" than others. Think about racism, for example.

In the Viking Age, not every human was [seen as] a person, but not every person was human. There are animal persons as well, sentient animals. Everything is sentient actually, and the idea that you converse with animals, that you talk to them, you respect them, they have their personalities.

I wanted to bring out in that chapter a different kind of way of looking at "persons." So the fact that the Sámi bury the bears they hunt with tremendous respect, it's partly to ensure that the bear will come back in the future from the spirit world as another bear, so that the cycle of hunting and life can go on.

LG: You also talk about "thralls," people who were enslaved by the Norse. Can you share some of the archaeological evidence we have for thralls and what their burials look like?

NP: We don't really know whether they have burials at all, actually. The institution of slavery, or thralldom, is absolutely central to the Norse economy, and just putting that back into the picture is very important, I think.

They are a group of people who have been neglected in our studies. There's a lot of people working on this, this isn't just me by any means. When we find them in the burials — well, when we think we find them, because it's extremely rare to find someone buried in their own right that we think might have been enslaved. But there's also the question of how do we tell? Unless somebody's sort of buried in chains or something, it's very hard.

But we do find — not often, but it's not that uncommon — that people have been killed in the course of funerals. You have a burial of a man or a woman, and then an extra body is in the grave, which has clearly been treated very differently. So their hands might be tied or they've been decapitated or something, and there's people who have very clearly been killed at the funeral.

Just the fact of that presumably means that they have a very different kind of status to the primary occupant of the burial. [They're] not necessarily enslaved; they could be prisoners or criminals. But there's been more recent studies looking at the diet of those people. You can use isotopes to study what people have eaten. [Editor's note: Isotopes are variations of elements. When people consume different foods and water, different amounts of certain isotopes are incorporated into their teeth and bones.] And in some cases, the people who've been killed at funerals have a much, much worse diet than other people, which implies that they have a much lower status and poorer nutrition and so on.

So the implication really is that they might be enslaved. So I think that's where we are with the burials of enslaved people.

LG: You spend an entire chapter on Viking Age children. What was it like to grow up in Scandinavia during this time, and what can we learn about their lives from grave goods and skeletal analyses?

NP: The first thing is that an awful lot of people didn't make it out of childhood at all. Putting numbers on this is a bit of a game, but probably less than half the population got past the age of 10. So child mortality is massive.

When we imagine the Viking Age or think back to it, remember that almost every single family will have lost children, with the psychological effects of that and the emotional effects and so on. And we shouldn't be entirely sure what those effects were, because if child mortality is so high, they have different coping mechanisms. But it still must have been utterly awful.

We don't find as many child burials as we should. There are a couple of written sources that mention that dead children are effectively discarded, and maybe this is connected with a coping mechanism for child mortality that people don't become sort of "full people" until they get to a certain age. We don't know.

But there are child burials and, quite often they're buried with scaled-down versions of the things that adults have. So young girls are buried with women's jewelry, but smaller. And they obviously had their possessions; they had their clothes and their jewelry, and we find toys, not in the graves, but on settlement sites — we find dolls, wooden animals, there's a fantastic horse on wheels that you can roll it about, lots and lots of little wooden boats that you can sail down. So they're thinking about boats quite early. I think their lives are quite recognizable up to a point, though very hard.

The age of maturity seems to be somewhere between about 14 and 16. After that, you're an adult, and then you're just out there with the rest.

LG: To us that seems young, but for them to make it that far would have been an accomplishment.

NP: And even in adults — you asked about skeletal analysis — there are an awful lot of adults that are malnourished as children, and it leaves traces in their bones.

There's also a rather grim set of data from a fairly small sample, but still — the proportion of adult women who were malnourished as children is much greater than the proportion of men. In other words, if food was scarce, they gave it to the boys. So it's also a glimpse of their priorities and the realities of their world.

LG: The Scandinavians settled in the Rus' in what is now Ukraine. What do we know about these people? Were they traders, warriors, or a mix of many things?

NP: I think [it's] a mixture. The identity of the Rus' is one of the big questions of the Viking Age. They used to be seen very simply as what the Vikings are called when they go east. And there's some truth to that. They seem to be culturally Scandinavian in the beginning, so we're talking the early ninth century or probably the eighth century.

Over time, as they travel on the eastern rivers, they become much more ethnically diverse. So it's a culture that grows up around an activity, rather than people from a particular place. Probably the closest parallel [is] if you think of the fur trade on the Canadian rivers and some parts of the states as well — the sort of 1600s and 1700s.

They're certainly militaristic though; they're armed traders. There's no doubt about that. And they found trading settlements, together with local people and other incomers as well. And they settle there. After a time, they're not actually [newcomers], they live there. And then, over time, quite late in the Viking Age and on into the Middle Ages, you get this Rus' state, with its capital of Kiev. But they range over a very large part of Eastern Europe and actually I think further east as well.

LG: You focus on this group of Rus' warriors, the Varangians, and you give the example of them leaving graffiti on a marble lion statue that's now in Venice. Can you tell us the story about these runes they carved?

NP: Yeah sure, it's a bit strange that the best monument to these guys is a lion that's much, much older than the Viking Age. It's from classical antiquity. It's outside the Arsenal now in Venice, but it used to stand in the harbor of Athens at a place called Piraeus.

The Varangians were kind of a subset of the Rus', but they're basically Scandinavians who take very clear contracted employment in the armies of Byzantium, the Eastern Roman Empire. So they're mercenaries, and they were very sought after, and there's lots and lots of written sources about them.

This lion, which once stood in the Athenian harbor, had three inscriptions in runes over its shoulders and legs and things. Two of the inscriptions are very fragmentary, so you can't get much from them. But the biggest one is a memorial to a guy called Haursi. It actually calls him Haursi the farmer, so it really does emphasize that you could be a farmer, but maybe you do a season in the army down in Greece and make a bit of money and go home. So people have professions and they have choices, and they do this for a bit, but then they go back and do what they did before.

This inscription is written by this guy's friends or his comrades, and it specifically says that he was killed before he got paid. And it's kind of a hint. It's "So, pay up, because you owe him, or you owe his family."

You get this little vignette of a soldier's life. And also carving the inscription on this lion is a pretty major job. This isn't like scribbling on a wall or something — they're carving it, and so they're there a long time. And presumably have control of the harbor because you can't just chisel this thing on, you know, people are trying to stop you.

We can think of the Varangians being stationed in Athens or waiting for a ship or something like that. It's this wonderful snapshot.

LG: Your book is loaded with details about Viking Age people. What do you hope readers will take away from your work?

NP: That they were more than actual Vikings. The people of the Viking Age were individuals, every bit as varied and complicated as we are. So that's it.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

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For decades, photojournalist Steve Winter has traveled across the world capturing incredible images of big cats as part of his work for National Geographic. Yet he didn't photograph an animal professionally until he was 34.

"If anybody had said, 'You're going to work with big cats for 25 years of your career,' I would have said 'No, I don't know anything about big cats,'" he told Live Science. "But I learned from scientists and local people," he added. "That was very, very important — that's what, to me, was the biggest change in my life."

Together with his wife, author and environmental journalist Sharon Guynup, Winter has helped change laws around big cats in the U.S.; revealed the horrors of the Tiger Temple in Bangkok, resulting in its closure; and took an iconic photograph of the cougar P-22 beneath the Hollywood sign, which eventually led to the creation of the world's largest highway wildlife corridor over Highway 101 in California.

In their new book, "Big Cats" (National Geographic Books, 2026), Winter and Guynup provide a retrospective of their careers, looking at the fragility of these predators, the conservation work helping to save them, and the challenges they still face. Live Science spoke with Winter about his career, the changes he's seen, and why he's hopeful for the future.

Hannah Osborne: You've traveled all over the world and seen so many things. Is there one photograph that really sticks out for you, one that you come back to and think about?

Steve Winter: I always look at the images that have had an impact at the time. That makes a huge difference to me, because in the end, I know that in taking this [photograph], not only did I succeed beyond my wildest expectations, but it's making a difference in the world. Right now, I have just been putting remote cameras up on what will be the world's largest wildlife overpass, and that was started by my Hollywood cougar picture of P-22, Puma 22, under the Hollywood sign. [Editor's note: The common names cougar, puma and mountain lion all refer to the same species, Puma concolor.]

That changed so much in Los Angeles. I've never seen a city be transformed in their love for the fact that they have a mountain lion in a park in the city. What came of that was [people] thinking, "Hey, maybe we should connect these areas where these animals are living." [Editor's note: The Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing over the 10-lane Highway 101 that was inspired by the cougar P-22 is due to open Dec. 2.]

To think about that is pretty amazing, so right now, P-22 and the Hollywood cougar is my go-to image.

He became a celebrity in the land of celebrities; people loved him. There's a P-22 day; schools are using urban wildlife in their curriculum. The LA Natural History Museum has a permanent exhibit, and what is right in the center of it? The Hollywood cougar picture.

HO: How did the P-22 photograph come about?

SW: As wildlife photographers, we will often go to these meetings where people are gathering to save elephants, to save this, to save that. So I went to meet the scientists that worked with these cats in the largest urban park in the United States. I asked Jeff Sikich, a biologist for the National Park Service, "[Do] you have a lot of trails in that park? Do you have any that the cats walk on where you could see the lights of LA in the background?" He kept saying no.

When you're working with camera traps, it's very important to visualize the picture in your mind that you're after [when] you visit a spot. I just said, "Well, Jeff, you know what would really tell the story of urban wildlife is if we had a mountain lion under the Hollywood sign." He looked at me like I'm crazy, and said, "There's no mountain lions in Griffith Park." I said, "If anything changes, let me know."

Eight months later, I got a text. They had a trail camp set up to census bobcats [Lynx rufus] in the park, and there was P-22.

With camera traps, you don't need to sit, and I learned that from the beginning. For the second story I did, it was photographing a quetzal, which is a sacred bird of the Maya and the Aztecs. I knew nothing about birds, either. It's got a meter-long [3 feet] tail. I was enamored by the fact that it had a historical background — they used quetzal feathers as a form of currency; they were sacred birds.

I loved all that, but working on that story in a cloud forest in Guatemala on top of a mountain all by myself, every morning I'd come down and set my camera up on the tripod [near the bird's nest], and then take it away at the end of the day. I'd walk back, and all of a sudden, the hair on the back of my head would stand up and on my arm, and I'd get this tingling feeling and it's like, what's going on? I'd turn around. You can't see anything in a rainforest or a cloud forest because the proliferation of life is everywhere. One night when I'm reading my book in the one room shack that I was staying in my bunk bed, all I hear is the stairs creaking. Then I hear the floorboards creaking. Then I hear scratching, and then sniffing, outside the door.

I grabbed the walkie-talkie to call Juan Carlos, the naturalist that I was working with. He would find the quetzal nests for me. I asked him, in Spanish, "Juan Carlos, what is this?"

And he said, "Oh, Steve, don't worry; it's just a black panther [Panthera onca]." I've been there five weeks, and I said, "Well, how come it took you so long to tell me there was a black jaguar here?" And he said, "We didn't want to worry you."

HO: Throughout the book, you look at topics like poaching, captive tigers in the Tiger Temple in Thailand, and the way they're kept in the U.S. for entertainment. And a lot of these things are still going on. How do you cope with seeing that side of their lives?

SW: When I was first working on tigers, I was in Thailand. I was wanting to work in Thailand and Sumatra because they were the two subspecies that experts said may go extinct. I was working with the most incredible group of scientists I've probably ever worked with. They were trying to save the Indo-Chinese tiger [Panthera tigris corbetti] in Thailand.

But close by was this place called the Thai Tiger Temple. And I said, "Hey, guys; I'd like to go there." And they said, "No, Steve; don't go. These are bad people, and we think they're involved in the black-market trade of tiger parts and tigers to Laos and then into China."

That's a good reason for me to go if you don't want me to go. The first thing I saw was this huge sign that said "conservation." This was a Buddhist monastery. For some reason, the abbot had been given a tiger cub about 10 years before, and he fell in love with tigers. So they started a tiger tourism operation that brought in at least $3 million a year.

I could see something was fishy right away, because by then, I'd learned a lot about these cats. They kept saying that they always had 150 tigers. But you could pet tiger cubs for Instagram selfies or bottle-feed them 365 days a year. If you're breeding tigers, what are you going to have? More tigers. Something was happening to them, because the death rate wouldn't take over the birth rate when you're speed-breeding cubs, which is what they were doing. A female has cubs; they take them away immediately so she'll be ready to have another litter. You can only use the cubs for three months because after that, they're too big to pet.

They had all these tourist things where you could get a selfie with a head of a tiger in your lap. I was saying, "Why are these tigers acting so sleepy?" They're taking this giant head of a tiger and putting it in somebody's lap that's sitting on the concrete. You would think that if you put the head of a tiger in your lap, you're going to end up with your head in their mouth.

[Editor's note: Winter and Guynup worked together on an investigation into the Tiger Temple in 2016, which eventually led to it being exposed for its abuse and connections with the illegal wildlife trade. Shortly after, the Tiger Temple was shut to the public.]

Sharon did the investigation, and I already had pictures. But we went to do a video and go visit the temple again … By the time we got done, the TV stations in Bangkok had taken the video and showed it all over on the nightly news. We kept working on this, and Sharon wrote four more stories. And after the last one, the Thai government was inundated with people calling for the prime minister to shut it down. They went in with the army and the police, and what they found was horrific. They went to the freezer. There were tigers hanging on meat hooks, cubs in jars, with a little Thai flag on them. They shut it down.

Stopping this is really important. After that, we did a story on tigers in the U.S., which was very difficult psychologically. It was one thing to see them in Thailand, but we had always heard that there were more tigers in the United States than there are in the wild, and people would go, "What are you talking about? We don't have tigers here."

Sharon and I … we found a lot of the same speed-breeding cubs at these roadside zoos, whether it was Doc Antle's Myrtle Beach that was $500 a day, or some dumpy little place on the road down south where you can give them $10 to look at a tiger. They were everywhere.

After that story came out, the National Geographic Society gave a copy of this 30-page story that we had done for the magazine to every member of Congress. We got this text on 20th December, 2022, that President Biden had signed the Big Cat Public Safety Act, which outlawed all that. We were part of getting this law passed, which was incredible.

HO: What are some of the biggest changes in conservation you've seen over your career?

SW: Conservation was changing a lot in the '90s and 2000s. Alan Rabinowitz [a zoologist who served as the president, CEO and chief scientist at Panthera Corp., a nonprofit conservation organization devoted to protecting wild cats] had this idea after he had a lot of scientists in Central and South America give him data on where they were working and where jaguars were. When he took it away and just showed the locations, he goes, this is a corridor, a natural corridor, because now we're talking a lot about connectivity and how roads get in the way. It's like animals are in prison because they can't cross these big freeways or even small ones. Find out where animals are, their migrating paths, and put in an overpass or an underpass or something.

All this was happening, all this new science, new conservation. That was all spearheaded by the work of [biologist and conservationist] George Schaller, who became a friend of ours. What a life that we've had — and are having. We're still working on the connectivity part right now.

HO: Are you hopeful for the big cats in LA?

SW: Oh, definitely. The ones that live in the Santa Monica National Recreation Area will be able to cross the 101 and then go all the way to San Jose. They could actually then hug the top of a certain mountain and get close to San Francisco, which is incredible to think about now. It's a huge metropolitan area, so you're leaving one, going to another. But there's so much land in between, and they can cross safely.

HO: What made you specialize in big cats in the first place, and what's the draw that keeps you coming back?

SW: Big cats are so charismatic and, to me, mystical. And they're an umbrella species, so if you save the largest predator, which is usually a big cat in any landscape, you save everything underneath it.

I was just taken over by these animals. National Geographic had never done a jaguar story before. I found out really quick why: You can't see them. I tried to use remote cameras, camera traps, but they're really smart. They'll go around them, so they don't have the flash going off or they don't like the sound or the smell of meat on these waterproof boxes and the cords and all that.

I just fell in love with big cats, and what a life to be able to work with every one of them. The only one that was on my list that I haven't done is the Amur tiger, Siberian tiger [Panthera tigris altaica]. When I was ready to photograph them with the scientists that had been monitoring them for over a decade, [the tigers] got canine distemper and about 60% died.

Big cats really bounce back when you give them protection, and there was protection given after you lose this many. All the study tigers that had the GPS collars on, the ones they could monitor, died. But the population bounced back, and there's more now than there were before.

I won't get to photograph Amur tigers. And the reason is, there's people — locals — who are working on it, and they're doing an incredible job. I've got a book here that has all the cats that I've worked on. The impact these stories have had, and the change that's come about, is what really makes me proud.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

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Could a psychedelic drug help the brain recover from mild injuries? New research suggests that psilocybin, the mind-bending ingredient in magic mushrooms, might protect the brain from the damage caused by minor head impacts.

Even mild head impacts that don't count as concussions can raise the risk of neurodegenerative disorders such as chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), so finding an effective treatment for these blows could be useful for warding off debilitating conditions down the line.

The new research, published in the journal Communications Biology, included only lab rats, so there's more work to be done to translate the findings to humans. But the early results hint at a new application for psilocybin — a drug that's already been explored for a range of other conditions, including depression, PTSD and anorexia.

Live Science spoke with study co-author Argel Aguilar-Valles, an associate professor of neuroscience at Carleton University in Ontario, about the new study and how the research might eventually translate to treatments for repetitive head injuries.

Nicoletta Lanese: In this new study you focus on mild head trauma. Why does that minor level of injury still raise concern?

Argel Aguilar-Valles: This work was spearheaded by our collaborator, Dr. Craig Ferris at Northeastern University in Boston. The idea was to focus on the cumulative effect of those milder head hits, or injuries, that happen quite commonly; a lot of children and older adults can have repeated instances of these events of head trauma, and it doesn't necessarily lead to any immediate treatment or hospitalizations because they are considered fairly mild.

But over time, there's evidence that this can lead to cumulative and long-term effects that can affect the health outcomes of these individuals, particularly as we age. It's a risk factor for several forms of dementia. So the idea was to try to model this with a milder version of head injury [in lab rats].

So it's repeated — it's three hits — they're controlled, they're fairly mild. And they produce some alterations in the brain networks that are evident in using either MRI [which looks at the brain's structure] or functional MRI [which analyzes brain activity] analysis.

NL: So these are head impacts that don't come with the symptoms associated with concussions?

AAV: It's always difficult to compare [what a rat is experiencing] to what a human might experience, especially here. One good way to put it is that there's no loss of consciousness ‪—‬ so in those instances where the hits happen but you don't black out.

NL: Is there anything available now to manage and treat these mild impacts?

AAV: Well, as far as I'm aware, there's not really an intervention. I've experienced this secondhand with my children. Sometimes, they will come back from school and then they [the teachers] say, "OK, they had a hit on the head; there's a bump, but they didn't lose consciousness or anything."

Then sometimes, you go to the doctor concerned and typically you're told, "OK, just keep them under observation." If there's no vomiting, nausea, if there was no loss of consciousness, typically they just send you home and say keep an eye. Put some ice on it. Maybe don't overexert yourself in the next few days — and that's about it.

There is no intervention — for instance, if we do this [treatment], it's going to prevent you from developing dementia 50 years down the line. There's obviously nothing like that, particularly when you have repeated instances and the effects are cumulative.

NL: What made psilocybin seem like a potentially promising treatment for head trauma?

AAV: My group specifically has had an interest in testing the ability of molecules collectively known as psychoplastogens. We didn't coin the term, but it basically refers to all of these drugs that produce these brain-plasticity effects [changes in the brain's structure and activity]. These include serotonergic psychedelics [such as psilocybin and LSD, which affect serotonin receptors], and also things like ketamine or even MDMA.

We observe changes in cultured neurons in response to these drugs, in terms of dendritic complexity and increased synaptic spine density [changes in neurons' incoming and outgoing wires]. And in vivo [in live animals], you also observe functional reorganization of networks. All of these drugs have the ability to trigger these mechanisms. They do it through different pharmacological targets, but they all converge on some of these plasticity effects.

There are deficits in this plasticity in psychiatric illnesses, but also, obviously, in neurological disorders and even neurodegenerative disorders, where these plasticity mechanisms are completely nonfunctional.

So, we wanted to test the limit of the ability of these molecules to rescue, or to provide some therapeutic relief, in conditions where you have physical damage or neurodegenerative pathological mechanisms underlying the disorders. We observed — and not only us, but several other labs have also observed — that some of these molecules do seem to provide some level of therapeutic relief. [Editor's note: The current study looked only at physical trauma, but other labs have started to explore psilocybin for neurodegenerative disorders.]

It's still unclear if they're disease-modifying, in the sense they could provide lasting changes that can modify the course of the disorder. But so far, the evidence indicates that they can at least help to ameliorate some of the negative consequences of either neurodegeneration models or physical trauma, like in this case.

NL: Psychedelics have been more thoroughly studied for conditions like depression. In both depression and head trauma, could similar mechanisms explain the drug's potential benefits?

AAV: Some of the cellular effects might be similar. But the underlying condition can look quite different. Even if you think of two cases of depression, they can look very, very different. The drugs are going to be engaging similar mechanisms, but also the context in which these mechanisms are occurring will probably affect the outcome. What is remarkable about these drugs is that they seem to be working in both cases, so they're certainly tackling something that might be common in both situations.

We don't know the limits of these drugs yet. I'm not trying to imply that they don't have limits; what I'm trying to say is that our knowledge is incomplete. We don't know when they will work better than other potential treatment options.

I feel that will come when their clinical use is more widespread and we have a better idea of how they work in the heterogeneous populations that clinicians have in real life. In our animal models, conditions are very, very controlled and homogeneous, so they respond in a certain, similar way, whereas in the clinic, you observe huge disparity [in responses].

NL: Is there reason to think that psilocybin would be more promising than other psychoplastogens?

AAV: I think a lot of the focus on psilocybin has been because it's one of the psychedelics that's been more widely tested both in clinic and preclinical settings.

I'm not a clinician, but one of the reasons why psilocybin is favored over others is the length of the psychedelic trip. It's a few hours. If you go with something like LSD, it will last much longer. While the person is under the influence of the drug and undergoing the trip, there needs to be clinical supervision, so it becomes really challenging logistically to arrange sessions with psychedelics that last a long time.

That's also motivated preclinical research, like ours, to focus on this drug, as opposed to others that may have similar effects. From a potential translational perspective, it might be a safer bet to study this drug.

NL: In clinical trials of psychedelics, scientists often use a very small dose to try to avoid triggering strong hallucinogenic effects. Was that a goal with the rats?

AAV: No, they're probably experiencing something — this is a relatively high dose. A lot of people use 1 milligram of psilocybin per kilogram of body weight. In this case, they were using 3 milligram per kilogram, and it was based on previous imaging studies where they looked at the effects of this drug.

One measure we use is the "head twitch response," which is a behavioral measure that we commonly use in rodent work to test the hallucinogenic potential of a drug. This is a very rapid head movement that occurs in response to the serotonergic psychedelics. It's a behavioral response that correlates with hallucinogenic potential, and not perfectly.

For psilocybin, it's been very well characterized in the sense that it's mediated by the serotonin 5-HT2A receptor [in rodents], which is the same receptor that mediates hallucinations and the psychedelic trip in humans.

NL: What notable changes did you see in the rats in this study?

AAV: The measurements were done nearly three weeks after the injury. It's relatively short if you think of a human, but for a mouse, things happen much faster metabolically and physiologically. There was at least evidence of increased phosphorylation of tau [changes in a specific brain protein tied to Alzheimer's], and that was reversed by the treatment with psilocybin. That was certainly one surprising finding, and it's worth following up, I believe.

But also the hyperconnectivity — the brain's functional connectivity was really dramatically affected in the treated rodents with the head hits. They not only recovered but went to higher levels than the control-group animals.

We don't really know what the meaning of that is, but certainly it's quite remarkable how the networks became hyperconnected. And hopefully that means something positive for the animals. But it was certainly surprising, the level of recovery of that particular measure.

NL: And these effects were seen throughout the brain?

AAV: There were effects in a lot of brain regions — the thalamus, the hippocampus, the basal ganglia, and all different parts of the cortex, etc. One of the things that stands out from this study was the connectivity of dopaminergic nuclei [hubs of dopamine production in the middle of the brain]. Their connectivity is really fundamentally changed by the hits and then by the treatment with psilocybin.

These modulatory regions, the dopaminergic regions, are concentrated in one part of the brain, but they affect overall brain function because they have these widespread connections. So they're really crucial for a lot of functions, and we're seeing effects in these regions — that's really intriguing.

NL: Is it known whether the strength of the psychedelic trip has anything to do with the degree of benefit?

AAV: It is currently a hotly debated topic in the psychedelic field, whether the intensity of the psychedelic experience has anything to do with the beneficial effects or not. You can envision situations like psychological trauma, as opposed to physical trauma, where that trip might be part of the therapeutic mechanisms. It becomes evident in the debriefing sessions after psychedelic treatment, where it seems like in some cases, the psychedelic experience is fundamental.

But these are fairly correlative measures — if the two happen at the same time, it doesn't mean that they are linked together causally. So that's something that is being tested actively. One of the ways is the development of these non-hallucinogenic analogues that seemingly trigger similar plasticity mechanisms as their psychedelic counterparts do [without causing a trip].

I don't think we've had the first clinical trial with these drugs yet. Some of them may have undergone Phase I clinical trials just for safety, but I believe none of them have been tested in Phase II trials yet [in which their effectiveness is explored for specific conditions].

NL: Given this work is in rats, what are the next steps to translate this into a treatment for people?

AAV: Extending the observations, like other groups have done — looking at what happens if you do give this treatment months after the events. It's still unclear to me if, with this model we have, you will have effects months later.

We have some correlative measures that potentially BDNF expression [a gene for brain-derived neurotrophic factor, which helps neurons grow connections] is increased, and also the levels of its receptor, called TrkB. That is a possibility that needs to be further investigated, trying to find out whether these neurotrophic factors are crucial for the effects that we're seeing.

And obviously, the psychedelic trip is still a potential issue. But testing whether these non-hallucinogenic derivatives have the same lasting effects as their hallucinogenic counterparts do — that will be crucial and that can, in some cases, potentially facilitate the translation [into treatments]. Because not every person reacts the same way to these hallucinogenic compounds, and not everybody has the same risks.

NL: I assume the non-psychedelic options might be better for children, for instance?

AAV: We don't know what the consequences [of psychedelic use] are in a developing brain. There's not enough data. That will be obviously a big thing to sort out before recommending the use of these drugs, and maybe some of those non-hallucinogenic derivatives may hold the answer for that — for those cases where you really don't want to induce a full-on psychedelic experience.

There's also schizophrenia and a bunch of other psychiatric diagnoses with psychosis associated with them — from bipolar or psychosis-like events or episodes — where you might not want to apply a serotonergic psychedelic.

NL: Looking ahead to the next five to 10 years, what do you hope to see in the field?

AAV: There's a lot of enthusiasm in the field and a lot of push to try to characterize and understand better these drugs, from a basic perspective or a cellular level up to a brain wave level and then also the psychological effects. So there are a lot of different disciplines implicated in studying these drugs, and I think that's really exciting. That will hopefully lead to a wealth of knowledge about these drugs — not only their effects but also their limitations and their potential risks.

Hopefully we will have a balanced approach as scientists, to be able to really tease apart in which cases it [psychedelic treatment] will be really useful and in which cases the risks outweigh the benefits. That will be crucial to understand.

There's a lot of potential there, but we should proceed with caution.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity. This article is for informational purposes only and is not meant to offer medical advice.

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The global fishing industry is plagued by problems. Overfishing remains a severe threat, while production and consumption have increased to record levels. Illegal, unreported and unregulated fishing continues to thrive, thereby disrupting marine ecosystems and attempts to manage our oceans sustainably. All the while, climate change is warming the seas, shifting marine populations and shrinking fish body size.

It's amid this background that journalist and author Rose George wrote "Every Last Fish: A Deep Dive into the World of Fishes and Fishing" (Granta Books, 2025). George had previously written an award-winning book on the shipping industry, "Deep Sea and Foreign Going: Inside Shipping, the Invisible Industry that Brings You 90% of Everything," (Granta Books, 2013) and had become more aware of the significant issues facing the fishing industry.

For the book, she traveled across continents, joining trawlers, fishers and aquaculturists (fish farmers) to learn more about the problems they face, while delving into fish intelligence and welfare with scientists. Finally, George also reveals some of the atrocities that take place at sea, including slavery and murder, as she tells Live Science in this interview about the book. "You can't police the sea; it's too big," she said.

"Every Last Fish" has been short-listed for the 2026 Royal Society Trivedi Science Book Prize.

Hannah Osborne: You're a vegetarian who gets bad motion sickness. What made you want to write a book about the fishing industry?

Rose George: When I wrote my shipping book, I had a lot of skepticism about how the shipping industry works. But whenever I spoke to shipping people, they would say, "Well, if you think we're bad, you should look at fishing." And they were right. Fishing is way more complicated, and baffling, and a difficult industry in many ways.

One of the other big triggers was that when I was doing my initial research, two things struck me. One was that for the first time in history, we're going to be eating more farmed fish than hunted fish. We have switched from hunter-gatherers to settled farmers, even though in this case, it's fish. There are all the horrible statistics about how many fish stocks are overfished and depleted and under pressure. People kind of know that, and I think they kind of switch off from it — it's quite hard to enthuse them about the fact that the ocean is in such a terrible state.

One of the things that really fascinated me was the research into fish abilities and fish sentience. I definitely wanted this book to be not just about fishing but about fishes, the creatures, the animals. Because I don't think we think of them as animals. Most people think of animals as kind of furry, cute things that they can empathize with or sympathize with, whereas sympathizing with fish, I mean, Samuel Coleridge called them "slimy things in the water." And, you know, they're not slimy, but I still think that's an overwhelming attitude [among the public].

In the last 20 years or so, [scientists have] looked at what their abilities actually are. They live in a very complex environment. They have to have complex abilities. I absolutely loved the research. In one study, scientists had goldfish steering around in an aquarium. It was nuts but fascinating.

I wanted to look at the industry and look at the animals. I wanted to make it more than a dead thing on the plate. And I hope I did that.

HO: You traveled to so many places for this book. Were there common themes among fishers from across the world? And if so, what were they, in terms of their problems, their work ethic, the things that they have to deal with?

RG: I didn't go fishing in Norway, but I did go to salmon farms, which is quite different. But I would say that there is a sense that it's a unique profession. It's a dangerous profession because you are in a dangerous element and every single ship can sink, no matter what size.

People die, and people get injured. There's all the heavy machinery if it's a sizable fishing vessel with winches and chains and everything under tension. And, of course, accidents happen. The fishing industry has gotten a lot safer in some parts of the world, but it's still dangerous.

For example, let's compare the small-boat fishermen who I went fishing with in England and the Senegalese fishers. There's a lot of similarity in that there's a pride in what they do and the sense of being beleaguered. Definitely in Senegal, it's very pronounced in that a lot of their fish has just been stolen by European and other nations, and has ended up as fish meal in European countries. In Senegal, Sardinella — a variety of sardine — is a staple fish, and it's just not there anymore. What happens is, the more you fish, the more you tend to fish the smaller fish. So you'll fish down. You'll end up fishing juvenile fish. And then, of course, you've got no fish to grow up.

I think West Africa, in general, is a very sad case of how the fishing industry works because hardly any of it is illegal. In Senegal, the government sold all the licenses to the Chinese trawlers and Spanish trawlers and what have you. A lot of the problems are from legal fishing.

Rex was banned from fishing wild salmon, and his fishing season was curtailed. [Editor's note: Rex Harrison is a small-scale fisher in England whom George spent time with for the book.] They definitely feel they're drowning in paperwork. I think that it's made it a very defensive industry, particularly in the U.K. because it is such a tiny industry. The biscuit industry is bigger. Yet fishing has this massive kind of cultural place that is really quite a nostalgic thing. There is an industry, but it's nothing like it was and the number of fishermen is much smaller. Young men don't want to go into fishing; young women don't want to go into fishing.

There's this sense of feeling beleaguered, but there's still pride in the fact that they do this activity, which is unique. They are the last hunters, really.

HO: What did you think was the biggest disconnect between the regulations and the reality of being on a boat?

RG: The fishing industry is so complex. It could mean a 3-foot [1 meter] wooden boat with no engine or one of the massive trawlers. That's all the fishing industry. But routinely, across the board, what the fishing industry needs is more and better monitoring.

You can't monitor a vessel at sea. It has to be self-reported. So what goes on at sea? All we have are fishing observers doing an extremely risky job. I think it's only about 2% of the fishing fleet that has an observer on board. There are some fish stocks that have much better, higher rates of observers. For example, in the U.S., Alaska — the Pacific Coast — has a very good observer system. [Editor's note: Fishing observers are independent specialists who travel on commercial vessels to monitor compliance and regulations.]

But then you look at Eritara [Aati Kaierua], the fishing observer from Kiribati who was pretty obviously murdered. There are observers of a lot of those big tuna boats in the Pacific. But routinely, what happens when a fishing observer goes missing or is injured or dies is, you get these forensic reports that say they all died of hypertension ‪—‬ it's like it's an epidemic down there. But they're all we have — the fishing observers — because there's no remote electronic monitoring yet. That would be much better. I think what we need is more data. But then again, you need someone to process the data, and you need a way for the data to be accurately sent. Self-reporting has its limits as a robust monitoring tool.

It's why you might find that the fish you're eating is not what you think it is, because there are so many opportunities for swaps. One fisher may have reached his quota on a particular stock of fish. There are lots of opportunities, particularly when you get into illegal fishing. You get something called trans-shipment, which is two fishing vessels exchanging catches at sea.

HO: You just touched on the observers, and there are some awful stories in the book. What did you find most shocking while you were researching and writing the book?

RG: What shocked me the most was meeting the four Ghanaians who had taken jobs on a scalloper, thinking that the U.K. was reputable and everything was aboveboard. All their safety training had been done. Then, they got to work on this scalloper, and it was just a horror show. This was a scalloper that was working in the U.K. EEZ. [Editor's note: An EEZ, or exclusive economic zone, is the region between 14 and 230 miles (22.5 to 370 kilometers) from a country's coast that can be explored for its marine resources]. It was never on the high seas. It was always off the U.K., and yet these men were treated appallingly.

This is a particular company that was known to be rogue and has been somewhat prosecuted. What arose at that point was — and what the International Transport Workers' Federation highlighted around the time — that these cases were coming to light, and a lot of fishing vessels were using what was called trans-shipment visas.

What that essentially means is, if you're working on a ship and you call in at one country but you immediately get on your ship, you get a trans-shipment visa. Because [the crewmembers are] on these visas, they couldn't really come ashore; they were basically imprisoned on their boats. And that's in the U.K.

There are lots of perfectly good operators on the seas. But if you do want to be a criminal, there is no better place to do it. That is a problem. You can't police the sea; it's too big.

HO: On the flip side, you spent so much time with fishers. What was the most moving story for you?

RG: I really loved Rex's story of saving the birds. Rex looks like a Viking. He's such a nice guy, but he's quite eccentric. He had been fishing in Filey Bay [off the eastern coast of the U.K.] for 40 years and had just accepted that bycatch is a huge problem in fishing. When you catch one species, often you have to catch others. And often they end up just being chucked back into the water and they won't survive. It's just needless slaughter.

But another problem is seabird bycatch, because obviously the seabirds want the fish. Filey is right next to Bempton Cliffs, which is an RSPB [Royal Society for the Protection of Birds] reserve that's very famous for its puffins, but it's also got guillemots and kittiwakes and all sorts. Rex was just really sort of inured to this death toll of seabirds in his net. Then, this beautiful friendship arose between him and this guy from BirdLife International, Rory [Crawford].

Rory remembers turning up, and Rex and all his fellow fishers are kind of standing there with their arms folded, which is kind of typical. But they managed to become friends. And because Rex respected Rory, and Rory respected Rex, Rex changed his nets to a darker filament so that birds would see them more clearly, and changed the design of them so that they wouldn't get caught. It reduced bird bycatch in Filey Bay by 90%. It's just extraordinary.

I [also] really liked the fact that Captain Tom McClure [a trawler from the English county of Cornwall] and I managed to be friends, even though we disagree so profoundly about bottom trawling, and we always will. I think it's a terrible fishing method, but you don't have to be adverse. He still invites me out on his trawler, but given I was sick on it last time, I don't think I'm going to do that anytime soon. But the offer's there, which is nice.

HO: I really liked the story of Lillian Bilocca and everything that she did to try and improve the safety standards for fishers in the '70s and '80s. Do you think that safety has improved enough, or is there still a long way to go?

RG: It's definitely improved a lot. Lillian Bilocca was just a wonderful woman — a working class hero. She was a fishwife, worked in a fish processing factory, and it was a terrible time. In 1968, three full trawlers went down with only one survivor ‪—‬ about 50 or 60 men dead from one town.

It was a very close-knit town. Lillian became this astonishing campaigner. They ended up going to London to meet ministers, and this raft of measures was put through with astonishing speed just because of the publicity and the ministers were embarrassed.

But she had to face such enormous hostility. The trawler industry hated her. The trawler owners — their incentive was obviously to get as much fish as possible — so they would send out their boats to really unsafe Icelandic waters in the deepest winter. It was ludicrously unsafe, and at the time, the boats had no radio operator. There was no medical ship nearby. There was no help, and they just went down.

Since then, there have been loads of measures, but there are still serious issues.

HO: There's a lot of grim reading in the book about the state of the oceans, the industry, the things that happen at sea, and there doesn't seem to be an awful lot of change on the horizon. Did you see any signs of hope or signals that things could change that will make the fishing industry more sustainable and less destructive?

RG: Yes and no. I mean, if you learn anything about fishing, I don't think you're going to come away from it particularly optimistic. But then there are people who are absolute experts about fishing who do find some optimism, so we have to learn from that.

One of the biggest pieces of environmental legislation passed last year was the Global Ocean Treaty, which was amazing and astonishing and had all the NGOs doing press releases with exclamation marks. They were all absolutely delighted. The reason that is important is that most international legislation operates on consensus. So you have to wait for like 180 countries to agree, which is why the International Maritime Organization is so slow, because it operates on consensus. The Global Ocean Treaty does not, so states can nominate parts of the high seas that they want to be protected. It can be a lot more flexible, a lot more nimble, and it could protect the high seas.

The downside is that only 10% of fishing happens on the high seas. So although we need to protect as much of the ocean as possible, it may be that's not where the major problem lies, but it's a really good start.

The other thing that gave me hope is … that it is quite impressive how quickly the ocean can recover when given the chance. When there have been no-take zones established … they are astonishing because sea life recovers very quickly.

Also, it expands because obviously the fish move; the populations recover; they move; things grow. It's such a win-win situation just to protect small pockets of the ocean and see that protective effect expand. But to do that, we have to stop taking everything from the ocean and assuming it's got an infinite bounty, because it clearly doesn't.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

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Since launching in 2009, NASA's Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter (LRO) — a robotic satellite about the size of a minivan — has taken more than 3 million photos of the lunar surface. This week, scientists studying a few hundred of those photos announced what they're calling a "once-in-a-century" discovery: the biggest, freshest impact crater ever seen in the solar system. ‪It's the result of a building-size meteorite that slammed into the moon just two years ago.

The new lunar pockmark, named McGetchin crater after the late geologist and lunar scientist Tom McGetchin, is about 728 feet (222 meters) wide, on average, and 141 feet (43 m) deep ‪—‬ imagine a hole as long as two American football fields and deep enough to fit a 14-story building inside.

"We know generally that there's more small things in space than there are large things, so that means we tend to get a lot of small craters on the moon and very few large craters," Julie Stopar, a senior scientist at the Lunar and Planetary Institute and deputy principal investigator on the LRO's camera team, told Live Science. "So something the size of this crater, we only expect to encounter that once every 130 years, approximately."

McGetchin is nowhere near the moon's largest crater; that honor goes to the South Pole-Aitken basin, a gargantuan gouge about 10,000 times wider than the newly discovered crater. But McGetchin is the largest new crater. Appearing seemingly out of nowhere in images from spring 2024, it's the biggest one scientists have seen in the 17 years that LRO has been active. And now that it's known to the world, some intrepid skywatchers think they've spotted the crater's bright, white debris ring from Earth.

The team described their findings in two papers published Sept. 16 in the journal Science Advances. Live Science spoke with Stopar to find out what this fresh crater can teach us about lunar geology, impact rates and potential risks to the future human visitors to the moon.

Brandon Specktor: The moon is riddled with craters. What's so interesting about this new one?

Julie Stopar: On one hand, it's a nice crater because it's so fresh and new. It hasn't been weathered. On Earth, we see the remnants of impact craters, but a lot of the original details are lost through weathering and degradation and time. But the moon preserves all of that much better.

This crater, in particular, is so fresh and young — it's only about 2.5 years old. It's in really, really good condition. We can study it to understand how impact cratering occurs and all the processes that go along with it.

The other cool thing is that it impacted on the boundary between two different types of deposits on the moon. There's the volcanic mare deposits [dark patches visible from Earth] and there's the highlands, which are ancient crustal material. The highlands are brighter and tend to be hillier, more mountainous, whereas the mare are flat plains, and they're very dark. This impact seems to have occurred right on the boundary between those two areas, so that's reflected in the materials that are excavated by that crater.

BS: The meteorite that made this crater was the size of a three-to-six-story building, according to your team's estimates. Could we have seen this impact from Earth?

JS: Yes. This is a relatively large impact, and from Earth, we have observed flashes associated with smaller impacts. So I think it's possible, under good conditions, that this may have made a flash. We don't know if anyone was watching, though — so if somebody out there has videos that they can dig through, they could go back and look for it.

BS: This impact happened in April or May 2024. One of your colleagues discovered the crater in LRO data in October 2025. Why did it take so long?

JS: LRO orbits the moon about 12 times each day. While we're going around, we can only image a really small portion of the moon on each pass. So you can imagine it takes many, many orbits to go around the moon and to reimage each part of the surface. When we don't have an impact flash to help us decide where to look for these craters, it's basically a random search.

Over time, we eventually will get repeat imaging [of the same area], but it takes years to get that. On top of that, the processing that it takes to make the before and after images

takes a lot of work; basically, you're looking through all the images that have been taken of the moon under the right conditions, and it just takes a lot of time and effort to process that.

BS: Your colleague, Robert Wagner, says he "stopped and dropped everything" when he discovered the crater in LRO's data. What was your reaction when he first showed it to you?

JS: I was surprised that it was so large! But I've seen a lot of similar craters on the moon, so my actual first thought was, "Oh my gosh; this crater might actually help me constrain how old all of these other craters are!"

BS: So because you know this crater is so fresh, it's helping you date other craters you've seen too?

JS: Yes, I've been looking at a bunch of craters, which I think look morphologically [their shape] and albedo-wise [how much light they reflect into space] very fresh. They have the bright ejecta [the material that gets blasted out from the meteor impact]; they have crisp rims. But I don't know how old they are, because they were there before the LRO. I think they're young, but I don't have any proof of age. So that was my first thought: "Oh my gosh; this makes me feel so much better if all these other craters I'm studying are still in really good condition like this one is."

BS: What, specifically, do you hope to learn about the moon from this crater?

JS: There's hope that we can use this to help understand the current impact cratering rate. How much and how often do different sizes of debris in the solar system impact the moon?

And that's important, because people want to go to the surface for exploration, send landers, start building moon bases and so forth, and there's some concern that impactors will be a hazard. So it would be helpful to have a better idea of whether that's a really frequent concern or only a once-in-a-while concern. We can also study things like how the impact angle, the target materials, and the velocity and type of impactor play a role in forming craters.

This crater will help us better interpret all of the others as well. I think this would be a really good crater to go get samples from, because we know when it formed and we have a lot of questions we can answer with that.

BS: How do you see human-made impacts fitting into this? In recent years, several spacecraft have crashed into the moon. Do you see any risks there or more opportunities to study craters?

JS: At this point, it's not too much of a concern to myself about human-made objects destroying natural habitats on the moon. Other spacecraft impacts, like the boosters from the Apollo program, made craters a long time ago. But I think, as there are more people and countries and even companies going to the moon, they'll have to get coordinated so as to not interfere with each other's activities — because that would be a problem. It's just a reminder like, "Hey, guys; you need to talk to each other and get coordinated and make sure you're keeping track of these impacts and your debris, and you're working together."

Otherwise, those craters are interesting because we know the impactor's mass and shape beforehand. It gives us a new insight into how craters form when you have irregularly shaped masses, like hollow cylinders and things like that. They'll also tell us about the moon's surface as well, because it's a different type of impact and it's got a different kind of energy to it and a different shape. So we do learn a lot about the cratering process in general from those.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

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Many people are familiar with melatonin, a hormone that helps ready the body for sleep. But there's another, lesser-known chemical in the brain, called orexin, that tips the scale in the other direction: waking the body up.

In 1999, two scientists independently uncovered the function of orexin and published papers about it. Dr. Masashi Yanagisawa, a molecular biologist and physician now at the University of Tsukuba in Japan, came across orexin while studying the interaction of receptors and chemicals in the brain. Dr. Emmanuel Mignot, now the director of the Stanford Center for Narcolepsy, homed in on orexin while studying narcoleptic dogs. (His Chihuahua, named Watson, has narcolepsy, and he previously had another dog with the condition, named Bear.)

This year, the pair of researchers won the coveted Albert Lasker Basic Medical Research Award for this fundamental finding that helped reshape our understanding of sleep. Their work has since led to the development of drugs for insomnia and narcolepsy.

Yanagisawa told Live Science that, at the start of his research career, he didn't expect to end up studying sleep. Mignot, on the other hand, had an early interest in understanding narcolepsy so that better treatments for the neurological disorder could be developed. Live Science spoke with Mignot about the discovery of orexin and how the field might progress in the future.

Nicoletta Lanese: What initially drew you to studying narcolepsy?

Dr. Emmanuel Mignot: There were three things that attracted me to narcolepsy: Number one, it was a human problem. It was already known [at the time] that it was not super rare. I'm not saying it's super common, but 1 person per 3,000, 0.03% ‪—‬ it's reasonably common. And nobody cared about it. I would talk to neurologists and they'd say, "Oh, I've never seen one case in my entire life." So I would say, "Yes, of course; you miss them all." That was the state of the play at the time.

Number two, was what this was a quintessential sleep disorder [in which sleep itself is disrupted]. I thought that if we found the cause of this disease, we could potentially discover something totally new about sleep — a fantastic entry point to a mystery.

The third thing that made me ready to go there was that it was tractable. A lot of problems are not tractable.

NL: Why did you start working with the dogs with narcolepsy?

EM: I studied the pharmacological basis because I was trained in pharmacology, and as a psychiatrist, and I discovered how this drug modafinil [a stimulant-based narcolepsy treatment] was working. But quickly, I realized I'm not going to find the cause by doing pharmacology. I'm only going to explore what's known.

That's when I started to fall in love with genetics, even though I was not trained as a geneticist. I said, "We have to find this gene in the dogs." It looks like they have all the symptoms. It was a huge bet, and it took me 10 years because I was definitely … overoptimistic. But it was worth the price at the end.

NL: And scientists already knew about narcolepsy in dogs at that time?

EM: The guy at Stanford that started the sleep program was called Dr. [William] Dement. He was a graduate student in Chicago in the 1950s, when [Eugene] Aserinsky and [Nathaniel] Kleitman discovered REM sleep. He had the foresight to understand that this was an important discovery.

[Later], he discovered that narcolepsy was really a disorder where people go into REM sleep and have this very abnormal dreaming. He came in 1970 to Stanford, and the first thing he did after his medical school was to start a clinic to see patients with narcolepsy. Around then, he spoke at an American Medical Association conference in San Francisco, and he discussed different sleep disorders, including narcolepsy. And then there was someone in the audience that said, "Oh my god; I have a dog with your disease. Every time it gets excited — boom — it collapses. And it sleeps all the time."

That dog had already been euthanized, but it still gave him the idea that these dogs have narcolepsy — maybe we should try to get some. So he went to a lot of veterinarians to talk to them about it, and they identified a whole series of dogs, including the first poodle, Monique, who had narcolepsy. And they started this little colony of dogs. Initially, they tried to breed them, but most cases of narcolepsy are actually not genetic. Then, in 1977, they got a whole litter of Dobermans, and then Labradors, that had some form that was genetic.

So when I arrived, it was in 1987. They already had the dog colony. I came to study the pharmacology, to try to find a better treatment for narcolepsy. But I did stand on the shoulders of giants.

NL: At that time, it's not like you had a complete dog genome. Did that make studying their genetics challenging?

EM: It was crazy. A couple of human genes had been isolated, and mouse genes, but it was a handful. We didn't even have the full genome map in humans. And meanwhile, dogs — no pun intended — were in no man's land. Very little was known.

It took me 10 years. I had times where some people didn't believe that the dogs had narcolepsy. There were a few depressing moments, but I was convinced that was the right thing to do.

NL: When you ultimately found the receptor for orexin, did it surprise you? It strikes me as surprising that there would be a discrete "switch" in the brain that controls wakefulness.

EM: I was lucky. Honestly, I had no idea. I got enamored with genetics because what I love [about it] is you can find something without any hypothesis. You just search for it, and what you find tells you what it is. You have no prerequisite for knowing what you would find.

I could have found something much less significant. That was a dream, to find a GPCR [G-protein coupled receptor, a protein on the outside of cells]. Can you imagine? A drug target.

Then, it turned out to be immediately applicable to humans. That, too, was a lot of luck; let's be honest. I was just trying to find the cause of one thing and one step at a time; it could have been something very complicated. It turned out to be simple.

Was I surprised? No, because I was not expecting one or another.

NL: Do you recall what the reception was like when the initial finding was published?

EM: It had an immediate effect, for several reasons. For example, I was seeing a lot of patients with narcolepsy at the time, but they were all old folks that had had narcolepsy forever. A lot of people would tell me, "I think I had it from when I was born, because I don't remember." We were never seeing children.

But after narcolepsy was described — the dog gene — suddenly narcolepsy became much more famous. And what happened is that people started to pay attention to narcolepsy, and we started to see kids. In kids, the picture is so much different. They gain an enormous amount of weight; it's very abrupt. It's a little bit different than what you see in adults, where they have adapted to it.

That was, I think, a practical consequence of the discovery. It really put narcolepsy on the map.

The second thing that happened is, all the drug companies started to develop hypnotics [sleeping pills], trying to block the orexin. They developed hypnotics relatively quickly, and they are very effective. They are probably safer than benzos [benzodiazepines] and so forth.

NL: Is it considered safer because the orexin blockers better replicate natural sleep?

EM: We know that the orexin definitely drops during sleep, so blocking it is definitely a way to recapitulate that drop; that's true. It's an awake-promoting system, so if you remove something that makes you more awake, it's safer than inducing sleep by shutting down the brain.

NL: As you moved to studying narcolepsy in humans, you found evidence that there might be an autoimmune response involved; it's been suggested that such a response may be harming the cells that make orexin in the brain. Was there suspicion that the condition had an autoimmune element previously?

EM: It's not something I 100% discovered. In 1983, before I came to study narcolepsy, there was a guy in Japan who I met, called Yutaka Honda. [Editor's note: Honda's research linked narcolepsy to the human leukocyte antigen (HLA) region of the genome, which helps regulate immune responses.]

The HLA is the way the immune system sees the world. That had just been discovered as very important for transplantation, because it's very polymorphic [takes on different forms] from one person to the next. They [Honda's group] found that all narcoleptics had a particular genetic variant, called HLA-DR2. This was a total surprise.

When I came, that was already known. But then people really looked and tried to see if the disease was autoimmune, but they couldn't find anything — no autoantibody, nothing. It was all negative.

I did a study with African Americans, and in African Americans, I found that this DR2 marker was not the best marker for narcolepsy. It was a gene just next to it that was called DQB1*06:02. [Editor's note: That HLA variant is now recognized as a strong risk factor for narcolepsy, particularly for narcolepsy type 1 (which involves a symptom called cataplexy).]

I'm very proud of that study because I think it's the first time that people used human diversity to actually map down a genetic factor more precisely, which now is used commonly. It's called transethnic mapping.

NL: New treatments that target orexin have just been approved. Do you see those therapies as an extension of your earlier findings?

EM: Of course. I was trained as a pharmacologist originally, so obviously, I do a lot of clinical trials. I see my patients totally transformed by this medication. It's just amazing. I'm so fortunate. How could you get a better reward than seeing your patients totally transformed by this medication?

It's going to have a lot of other applications [beyond narcolepsy]. Some people think it's going to be very helpful for ADHD; some people think it could be very helpful for depressed people with excessive sleepiness. We don't know, really; there's a lot of possibilities.

Another thing I'm excited about is that I have a few patients with [both] narcolepsy and schizophrenia. You cannot give them stimulants. If you give them modafinil or another dopamine stimulant [for narcolepsy], they have even more hallucinations. Often, they are sedated by their medication, and we are very poor at making people more motivated and active. These [orexin-activating] drugs seem to have effects beyond just waking people up. They seem to increase motivation.

You don't know until you try, but I'm sure it's going to have other applications.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity. It is for informational purposes only and is not meant to offer medical advice.

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Over a century ago, German pathologist Georg Schmorl documented a strange phenomenon: cells from fetuses that had moved into the mother during pregnancy. He had discovered microchimerism — where the cells from one individual move into another and set up shop.

In the past few decades, scientists' understanding of microchimerism has grown, thanks to technological advances. And the implications are wild.

Cells transferred during pregnancy could mean you have cells from your grandmother living inside you. A twin can be "absorbed" within the womb, leaving a genetic trace of the lost sibling. And after a bone marrow transplant, a man ended up with the donor's DNA in his blood and semen. These are just a few examples of how microchimerism opens a new way to understand immunology, genetics and evolution.

In her book "Hidden Guests: Migrating Cells and How the New Science of Microchimerism Is Redefining Human Identity" (Greystone Books, 2025), author and journalist Lise Barnéoud explores how the field emerged and developed as scientists grappled with understanding what was going on, and why — as well as the far-reaching implications of these minuscule interlopers.

"Hidden Guests" has been short-listed for the 2026 Royal Society Trivedi Science Book Prize.

Excerpt from "Hidden Guests": 'It doesn't lie. So who are you?': What happens when DNA tests show a woman is not the mother of the child she gave birth to?

Live Science spoke with Barnéoud about the book, why the idea of microchimerism resonates so deeply, and where the field could be headed next. "Hidden Guests" has been short-listed for the 2026 Royal Society Trivedi Science Book Prize.

Hannah Osborne: What first got you interested in microchimerism? How did your personal understanding change over the course of writing "Hidden Guests"?

Lise Barnéoud: The first time I heard about it, I was writing my previous book on vaccinations, and I had a chapter on our immunity, how our immune system works. I wanted to explain what we got wrong about how our immunity works. We are still learning — [we used to have this idea] that our immune system is kind of an army patrolling in our body and expelling any foreign elements. That's the image we have of our immune system. I wanted to tell another story, which is more accurate because we know now that it's not working like that.

I was looking for counterexamples, and, of course, one very famous counterexample is pregnancy. We tolerate the fetus that is half different than us. Another well-known counterexample is microbiota. Inside our body, we carry microbial cells as well as human cells ‪—‬ so cells coming from bacteria, viruses, fungi. We don't expel them; we need them. The third example I found was microchimerism.

The more I read about it, the more I was interested in it. It was challenging so many things. I've learned that the placenta is not that watertight barrier that we often think of, that the immune system is not as intolerant as we often think, and we can inherit cells from our kids like an inverted inheritance. All those elements popped up within my first reading, and I thought, "OK, I really need to dig more."

For your second question, I think the biggest change is that I realized those cells are not only kind of inactive tourists, just homeless drifters passively traveling in our body. They are really active. They can multiply, they can produce protein, they communicate with other cells, and they really influence our physiology, for better or for worse.

HO: We see how microchimerism is a relatively new field of research that has had lots of stops and starts. What was the biggest hindrance to the development of the field, and what changed?

LB: Maybe before speaking about the hindrances, just saying that the first time we discovered cells from other individuals within individuals was a century ago. The first one was in 1893, and it was a German pathologist who discovered cells from fetal origin in lungs from women who had died during pregnancy. Then it took a century to understand that this phenomenon happened to everyone and that it is of importance.

I think there are several hindrances. There's never one big one. The first one we can think of is the technology, because you need to study these microchimeric cells; you need tools that are able to study a tissue at the cellular level. This is quite new, so now we have these tools and we can make some progress. The second big hindrance is that this research field calls into question the traditional view of the immune system. If you see the immune system as a purely defensive and intolerant army, then you can't think of these foreign cells staying forever in your body, and that was a big hindrance, I think.

Maybe a third hindrance is that at the beginning of this field — I mean the new beginning in the '90s — they were mostly women working in this field. They told me that male colleagues often said, "Well, that's woman's stuff, you know; you're looking for some connection with your babies, but it's not really relevant," which is wrong, of course, because even men are affected by this phenomenon. They stayed nine months in the womb like us.

That might have, at least, challenged some of the first pioneers of the field. Now there are more and more men working in the field. In April, there was an international conference on microchimerism, and I think it was half women.

HO: The book includes many anecdotes about people directly affected by microchimerism. Which story were you most affected by, and why?

LB: I guess it'd be the story of Lydia Fairchild because she nearly lost custody of her children because of microchimerism. She was 26 and living in the U.S., and she applied for a welfare benefit to help her raise her kids. In the U.S., you need to undergo a maternity test for that, and her DNA test ends up showing that she could not be the mother of her kids. Of course she tried to argue; she had photos; she had testimonies. But she was always told, "DNA is 100% foolproof; DNA doesn't lie," which implied that she was lying. But she was not, so she called several lawyers. But at the beginning, they were all saying, "No, DNA doesn't lie."

At that time, she was pregnant with her third child, and they decided to do a test immediately after birth. Again, the impossible happened. This third child that just emerged from her womb was not her son — genetically speaking, at least.

In fact, she was harboring cells from her vanished sister inside her. Most of her eggs carried her sister's genetic signature, which means that the mother of her kids never lived. Isn't it amazing? That's maybe one of the stories that blew my mind.

HO: The section on DNA and how microchimerism complicates things is fascinating. How much of an impact do you think hidden cells have on the reliability of DNA evidence?

LB: The truth is that I think we don't really know. If you have only some microchimeric cells, among thousands of your own cells, then it won't change the reliability of the DNA test. But in some cases, these microchimeric cells can make up a significant part of an organ and sometimes even an entire organ. This proportion might depend on when you received those microchimeric cells. For instance, if you received those cells like Lydia Fairchild at the very, very beginning of your development, they might end up making up the entire organ where they landed first. But probably, we don't know which percentage of us start our in utero life with an evanescent embryo.

I looked for this number because I didn't really know about evanescent twins, so I wanted to know how many pregnancies started with several embryos and suddenly one disappeared. And I couldn't find any good number because, of course, it's quite difficult to put any imaging there at the beginning of the condition. Some articles say that up to 30% of pregnancies will start with several embryos, which means a lot of us are affected by evanescent twins. But let's say it might be rare that we have so many microchimeric cells in one organ that it completely changed a DNA test.

But there's another example in my book that took place in Alaska in 2004. After a rape, the forensic investigators collected the semen from the scene, and they discovered that the DNA in this semen matched with a man who was already in the database. But this guy was behind bars. He was in jail, the day of the rape, so he couldn't be the rapist.

Finally, investigators discovered that this guy, the prisoner, received a bone marrow transplant a few years ago from his brother, and the cells from the bone marrow of his brother didn't stay quietly in the bone marrow and blood. They go outside the marrow, and some end up in the semen. And the true rapist was the brother, the one who donated the bone marrow, and not the receiver. Without the alibi of the prison, the brother who received the transplant would have been charged, and the true rapist would have been left free.

I guess there are some cases where microchimeric cells can really change the result of a DNA test. But for now, it's not really studied. I've been contacted by some forensic investigators to learn more about microchimerism, so maybe things will change.

HO: You point out that microchimerism is used for both pro- and anti-abortion arguments, and it's used by "manosphere" influencers to promote ideologies. Why do you think microchimerism research is so open to interpretation and used in this way?

LB: Next time you're at a dinner, just try to explain microchimerism. You're a science journalist, right? Well, usually when you tell the story you're working on, people are saying, "Oh, yeah, OK." And they just turn to another conversation. If you try mentioning microchimerism in your next dinner, then you'll see. Everyone will try to make some hypothesis, some connection; some will be moved that it's possible to keep some cells from an unborn child or a lost child. Some will be disgusted by the idea that they keep cells from their mother, like having their mother on their shoulder all the time. It's really the first time as a science journalist I experienced such resonance with a story I was working on among people around me, people who are really not into science.

As soon as the door opened, it revealed the fears and the desires of people. So yes, some conservatives use microchimerism to fight against abortion because they say the cells from those aborted will haunt the women for the rest of their life. [But] I've met scientists explaining that if you receive a shot of cells of fetal origin, it can also help you to regenerate your organs. It can be used also by some other people to rejuvenate, to try to stay young.

It's because it's such a new field and you have such open questions, there's room for many interpretations, many hypotheses. I mean, that's fine; that's how science works. You should always have hypotheses and try to answer your hypothesis with new experiments. But it's true that sometimes I didn't know how to handle all those ideas at the beginning. Then I realized it was like a window open on the intimate — their fears and their desires — and it reveals what they really think about their connection to the world they are in. From a sociological point of view, it would be really interesting to study that.

HO: In the book, biologist and evolutionary theorist Amy Boddy warns that microchimerism researchers love to hypothesize. When the implications of the field are so far-reaching, how do we get past this? Which hypothesis do you find most intriguing?

LB: Many scientists told me that until 2021 or something like that, there was this hypothesis that those cells could come from another generation than the mother. We knew that the mother would give cells to the fetus and the fetus could give cells to the mother, but then people ask, because the mother can still carry cells from her mother, maybe she could pass those cells to the fetus. Until the 2020s, scientists were thinking, "Well that's a crazy hypothesis; that can't happen." There could be only a few cells that won't go through the placenta and integrate with the new fetus — until one scientist proved that a newborn can carry cells from the grandma.

In this field, you always have crazy hypotheses, and I guess until we haven't proved that this hypothesis is wrong, you can still leave the hypothesis on the table. One of the craziest hypotheses, the first time I encountered it, I thought, "OK, they've gone really too far."

This hypothesis is that we could inherit cells from our sexual partner. I thought it was not possible because I thought the semen was full of spermatozoa, that they are only like half cells having only half chromosomes, so they cannot survive. But actually in semen, you have a lot more cells than spermatozoids — you have immune cells, for example.

There are many cells in the semen, and we can think that if you have some, there could be some path for those cells to escape and go into your blood. It's not completely crazy. For now, there's no formal proof of this new source of microchimerism, but I recently heard that some scientists are working on the topic on mice.

We should be careful about those interpretations. But I think scientists are not the ones who should care about this interpretation; otherwise, they would prevent themselves from doing their research. They should open all the doors with all kinds of hypotheses. If we do it in a scientific way, meaning if we try to answer a hypothesis with good experiments, then I think everything is fine. You will never prevent people around you from using this information to distort the facts and tell another story. That's how life goes.

HO: What do you think the most promising use for microchimerism research will be over the next 10 to 20 years? How do you see it unfolding?

LB: I guess it will be in the regeneration field. We have discovered that those cells can participate to regenerate tissue. Some scientists around the world are doing clinical studies to see whether we could use these cells as a therapy either after an infarctus [heart attack], but also a vascular accident [stroke] or when you have a wound on your skin. The hope is that by either attracting microchimeric cells that are within our bodies, or injected, these microchimeric cells maybe can help this kind of tissue to repair. I think that might be one of the promising uses of these cells in the future.

Maybe also in the transplantation field; maybe we can think about using the knowledge of how microchimeric cells can induce tolerance to avoid [immunosuppressive] drugs. When you receive the transplant, you need to take drugs [that suppress the immune system] for the rest of your life, and those drugs are like really strong drugs. If we can use microchimeric cells before the transplant to allow better tolerance, then we could either not use any drugs or maybe use less drugs. That would be really interesting, too.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

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Of the former National Football League (NFL) players who died in recent years, at least 25% had brain changes related to chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), a new study suggests.

The study, published Aug. 25 in the journal The BMJ, examined donated brain tissue from 338 former NFL players who died between 2008 and 2021. A total of 1,712 former players died in that time frame, so the analysis included only about 20% of the players' brains that could theoretically have been examined. Then, the researchers used that subset of brains to estimate the likely prevalence of CTE in the overall group.

Among the donated brains, over 93% showed physical signs of CTE, meaning an accumulation of abnormal proteins in specific places within the tissue. About 30% had stage IV CTE, the most severe form that comes with the most extensive brain changes.

These physical signs of CTE aren't always associated with overt symptoms, such as cognitive decline, mood and behavioral changes, or dementia. Only about 60% of the individuals with CTE-related brain changes were also diagnosed with dementia in this study. That said, those with stage IV CTE were more likely to have dementia, with 90% having a diagnosis.

Across the full study time frame, the researchers estimated that between 18.5% and 98.7% of the deceased players likely had CTE. Zooming in on the period with the highest number of brain donations — 2016 to 2021 — they estimated the rate to be between 24.5% and 97.7%. That latter time frame was likely the more representative sample, the researchers determined.

What can this study tell us about the CTE risk that current football players face, from youth sports to the professional level? To put the research into context, Live Science spoke with Thayne Munce, an associate professor and director of the Jayhawk Athletic Performance Laboratory at the University of Kansas, who was not involved in the BMJ study. Munce researches brain health and concussion in contact sports, primarily among young athletes. He cautioned that the BMJ study's findings shouldn't be extrapolated to all levels and ages of play, or even to today's NFL players.

Nicoletta Lanese: This study estimated the rate of CTE among this era of NFL players. Was the prevalence surprising to you, or in line with your expectations?

Thayne Munce: It's not surprising to me. This group and their colleagues have published previous work from donors — so these are former players who have donated their brains for research. They have reported even higher rates than 25% among just their donor sample [in this study]. This really high rate — over 90% of CTE cases in the donor group — is in line with what previous research has shown for these brain banks. So that's not terribly surprising.

What's different in this study is they compared the donors over a certain period of time versus all of the deaths among NFL players during that period of time and estimated the range based on how representative that donor sample was to the overall group of NFL players.

For example, if players just randomly selected to donate their brain to the brain bank and then they found that 98% of all of their samples had CTE — if that's representative of all the players from that era, then that's where you get the higher estimate. But if the majority of players that actually had CTE were the only ones who donated their brains because maybe they were showing outward signs or symptoms of dementia or cognitive decline or behavioral changes while they were living, then it becomes a very highly biased sample.

So that's where you get this big range. [The true prevalence] really depends on how representative that donor sample was to the peer group of players from that era.

NL: Does that broad range of estimates make it difficult to pin down the risk for current players?

TM: I think even more problematic than that big range is to understand that this is a historical study.

So these were players who died between 2008 and 2021, and the average age, I believe, was a little over 70 years of age. So if you extrapolate backwards, they probably played in the NFL starting around age 21 or 22 or 23 — that puts their playing days back in the '60s and '70s. So these were players who played in the NFL predominantly in the '60s and '70s, and would have played college and high school football in the '60s and '50s.

This is a different era of football. So we should not be making any estimations about what current CTE rates are based on this study, because a lot has changed in 50 years. It [the CTE rate] could be the same. It could be greater. It could be less. We really don't know.

I suspect, based on improvements in protective equipment and rules and advances in sports medicine, that the risk is likely lower. I don't have evidence that that's the case, but nobody does. We don't really know how the rates today compare to in the past, since CTE can't be diagnosed in the living. We can't take a sample of current players and look to see how many of them have CTE.

But that is the challenge of this study. It's interesting [in that] it gives us a range of what CTE may be in that group of former players. But it doesn't give us a lot of information about what rates are in current players in the NFL. And even more so, whatever the CTE rate is in professional NFL players does not translate to former collegiate, high school or youth football players, because CTE is an exposure-related disease. For players who have less exposure to these repetitive head impacts, it should follow that they have a considerably lower risk of CTE.

We don't want to confuse a range of CTE prevalence from players who played 50 years ago with contemporary NFL players and definitely don't want to conflate that with what CTE rates may be for current high school and youth players, who have far less levels of exposure.

NL: You mentioned that football has become safer over time. Could you spell out how the game has changed?

TM: We can look at different categories: With the rules back in that era, spearing — hitting with the crown of the head — was allowed, and oftentimes encouraged, as a style of play. That's now penalized and not taught, or shouldn't be taught.

There are changes in equipment, for sure. Modern football helmets — the material, the padding, the way in which these manufacturers are using head impact data to construct position-specific helmets and materials that are designed now to not just prevent catastrophic injuries, like skull fracture, but also to minimize the force from having repetitive head impacts — that's come a long way.

There's the Guardian Caps; you may have seen the NFL has adapted those. So they wear these soft-shell hats on their helmets during the preseason and during practices. That's now required for many of the position groups.

Virginia Tech has a helmet rating system where they test football helmets, and every year, the helmets score better on these tests. They now have star ratings for youth helmets, so manufacturers of youth football helmets are now being held to account, as well.

Maybe the most important thing is just the education around and recognition of concussion and brain injury in the sport. Now, when an athlete has a concussion, they are more likely to be recognized for having a concussion and be pulled from play and have an opportunity to recover before they return to the game. You hear anecdotal stories of former NFL players from that era, like the '60s and '70s, that suffered multiple concussions, oftentimes in the same game, and were not removed from play and continued to practice under those conditions. That medical recognition and treatment management of concussion and brain injury has moved ahead.

You look at the way in which practice was conducted, from full contact, two-a-day practices, which were common even in high school 15, 20 years ago. Now it's really not allowed at any level of play. So the amount of hitting that they do, the amount of contact that players are exposed to in practice and in the preseason is far less.

NL: When players weren't able to recover from concussions, did that likely increase their brain-injury risk?

TM: Theoretically, yes. There's evidence that if the brain is injured and then it's exposed to a second insult or injury before it's properly recovered, that makes the condition even worse.

There's actually a term called "second-impact syndrome," and it's very rare, so I don't want to scare people. But there have been instances where players — it's often, unfortunately, young players, high school players — who have had a concussion which, in retrospect, went undiagnosed and then there was a second concussive blow that led to brain swelling and death. That's the extreme, but there are cases of that [repetitive damage] happening even on a lower scale.

Even if you don't get another concussion, just those nonconcussive repetitive head impacts on top of an injured brain would not be good. It certainly is only going to delay recovery, likely is going to compound your inflammation and all of the downstream consequences of that initial injury.

I suspect that that was fairly common in years past, mainly because concussions generally weren't diagnosed. No one was looking for them, and players certainly weren't encouraged to report if they had the symptoms. So it's very likely that many of these players, including the players that were in the [brain donor] sample, had concussions and played through them and continued to receive additional trauma on top of a brain injury.

Now whether that leads to CTE, we can't really say. But I think it's reasonable to suspect that it probably would increase that risk.

NL: Could you explain whether the physical signs of CTE in the brain tend to come with symptoms, like cognitive decline? Or is the link more nuanced?

TM: So CTE is a neurodegenerative disease that can only be diagnosed by neuropathologists — people that look at slices of the brain and look for particular proteins that are present in certain regions of the brain. [This examination is done after death.] It's a pathological marker. It means that there are changes in the structure of the brain.

The clinical side of that is changes in mood, cognition, behavior, things like dementia or cognitive decline.

Even in the study, they showed that they [the CTE brain changes and symptoms] weren't necessarily linked. Now I believe they showed that for those who had more severe CTE — like the stage IV — that there was a pretty high rate of those individuals who also had subsequently diagnosed dementia. They had these clinicians that looked at the records and diagnosed them. That's a little bit of a limitation of the study: that a lot of the dementia cases were diagnosed after the person had passed away, based on medical records.

To your more immediate point, the presence of CTE: So the presence of these markers in your brain does not necessarily translate into a clinical disease or a clinical diagnosis. There can be signs or symptoms that somebody may have — let's say memory loss or changes in behavior — that may lead someone, like a former football player, to suspect that, "Oh, maybe I have CTE because I played football and I've heard that that's linked with dementia."

That may be true, but it may also be that it's due to old age, or it could be due to genetics or some other condition.

Many of these neurological diseases and conditions can be managed clinically, and there's treatment. There's therapy; there's pharmacological treatments. There's a whole toolbox available for people to seek help. That's, I think, an important message for former athletes or individuals who may be concerned about developing CTE, is to recognize that there is a disconnect between clinical disease and the pathological disease. Just because you have some outward signs or symptoms that doesn't mean that you have CTE.

NL: Since there was a higher likelihood of dementia in the stage IV cases, it seems like there's a stronger link between the pathological and clinical diagnoses at advanced stages. Is that a fair read?

TM: Again, from this study and other studies, just the presence of CTE does not necessarily mean that somebody's mood, behavior, cognition is altered. It seems to be more likely — it seems to be a tighter relationship at the more severe stages, which would kind of speak to what you're talking about. A certain threshold of disease progression seems to be more likely to manifest itself in clinical disease [with overt symptoms].

NL: What should current NFL players take from this study?

TM: I would go back to what we discussed earlier: just understanding the time frame in which the study was performed and when those players were in the NFL. I think we need to be cautious about projecting those rates; it's a pretty wide range of estimates, and it has to do with how representative the sample is. We need to use caution if we are trying to interpret those rates for the current players.

If anything, I think it probably validates all of these efforts that we discussed to try to improve brain health and minimize risk of exposure.

Even if the prevalence is on the low end ‪—‬ that 25% of players who played in the '60s and '70s developed CTE ‪—‬ that's pretty alarming. That in and of itself should get the NFL's attention. Players shouldn't have a 1-in-4 chance or greater of developing this disease.

So let's take steps to reduce that risk — and I think it validates all of the changes that have taken place over the last 50 years. I mean, a lot of them have taken place over the last 10 to 15 years. That's probably the biggest message: to say we were right to do these things and we need to continue to see if there are further opportunities to make the game safer.

Hopefully we've made a lot of progress and current-day rates are much lower than they were in the past. We don't know that, but let's not be idle. Let's continue to push forward to reduce as much risk as possible in a game where you can't completely eliminate the risk. That's something that I think everyone acknowledges; every player has to acknowledge that there is some risk.

NL: Looking forward, what further improvements could be made?

TM: There's a couple of areas that are really in the infancy stages right now. If you think about brain health as a continuum where you would have a disease like CTE on one end and then optimal health on the other end — let's say repetitive head impacts take away from your brain health and tip the scale in favor of developing disease, what are things we can do to tip the scale back in favor of improving brain health?

We know that sleep is really powerful and could learn more about that in and of itself. And what about nutrition? What about pharmacological interventions? Wouldn't it be great if we could develop a medicine, a drug at some point that could be taken preventatively to reduce athletes' inflammation? Really looking into ways in which we can optimally improve brain health as a countermeasure to the damage or the trauma that is occurring.

It's not just football where these treatments could be helpful; it's also with soccer, hockey, other sports and occupations where there is exposure to [head] trauma. I think that's a promising area.

And then, certainly, diagnostic techniques. We talked about CTE only being able to be diagnosed at death. It would certainly be a game changer if we could diagnose it convincingly in the living so it could be recognized early. People are going to have different risks, and some of that is probably genetically determined; some people are going to have the same level of exposure and develop CTE while some aren't. If we could identify individuals who are at higher risk or in the earliest stages of the development of the disease, you can then change lifestyle, behavior, exposure — that would be huge as well.

NL: To shift gears slightly, could you describe your own research in youth sports?

TM: Most of my work over the last 15 years has been focused on youth football players. That's been an interest in measuring repetitive head impacts and neurologic function in youth football players and some work in high-school-age players, as well. So a lot of that is focused around subconcussive injury [head trauma that does not trigger overt symptoms of concussion, like nausea, light sensitivity or thinking issues]. We're looking at the effects of these nonconcussive head impacts on brain health.

That ties into the CTE question in the sense that CTE is thought to be due to cumulative exposure to brain trauma — repetitive head impacts — and certainly most of the work, like in this study, has been done in NFL players. The question for a lot of the general population is, "What about youth players, high school players, that make up 90% of all football players?" So from a public health perspective, it's those younger players that I think we really need to be studying and concerned about.

That's not to say this study isn't really important. It certainly is, but my focus has been on that younger population. And then I do have some experience working more in a hospital background [on] clinical concussion management and [developing] objective pictures of concussion.

NL: With recent research, do we better understand how those nonconcussive impacts affect brain health?

TM: Going back maybe 15 to 20 years, people started to recognize that there were some cumulative effects of concussion. Those were some of the earlier studies showing that former NFL players who had multiple diagnosed concussions had worse outcomes later in life — that kind of put the spotlight on concussion. Concussion went to the forefront, in terms of how we thought about brain injury in football.

And then, over time, this recognition of what has been termed subconcussive or nonconcussive brain injury has emerged, as there's been some imaging studies in collegiate athletes, and even high school athletes, that have found that players who don't get concussed sometimes have changes in their brain, even over the course of the season.

That dovetails with some of the CTE research which has shown that history of concussions isn't necessarily predictive of who developed CTE. It's more of a cumulative effect of repetitive brain trauma. So the CTE researchers have essentially concluded that it's history of repetitive brain trauma, rather than history of concussion, per se, that's a leading risk factor for CTE.

With CTE, it's always looking backwards, because it's something that's diagnosed at death. For researchers like myself who study concussion, or study active football players, that has also then been a reaction of saying, "Well, if it is repetitive trauma, if it's repetitive head impacts, that is a risk factor for neurodegenerative disease such as CTE, then that makes it even more important to study it in active players." What does that head impact exposure look like at different ages, and how can we reduce that exposure? How can we reduce the number and severity of head impacts that players are experiencing?

So there's both the CTE angle, which is, again, retrospective — I'm looking at former players. And the contemporary issues of players who are currently playing and what's the risk for concussion, but also what's their exposure to repetitive head impacts? So it's really tied together.

That's why there's so much concern about repetitive head impacts and why there have been rule changes at the collegiate and high school level about the amount of contact and limiting those types of activities, with the idea of reducing that overall head-impact burden.

NL: When you talk about repetitive head impacts broadly, I assume that covers both concussive and nonconcussive impacts?

TM: Yep — so every hit would be considered a head impact, and then certain impacts are strong enough, or hit you in the right spot, to cause a concussion. The vast majority of impacts are nonconcussive.

NL: How do you speak to these athletes' families about the risks of concussion and CTE?

TM: When I do talk to players and coaches and parents, I often like to remind them that, generally, the benefits of playing sports, including tackle football, outweigh the risk. Oftentimes we get so concerned about the risk, which is real, that we forget about the benefits and about the alternatives of not playing. Almost always, the benefits — from the physical, the psychological and social components, the mental health components — are going to outweigh the risks. That's one thing to keep in mind.

Second, the risk of injury — in this case, CTE — is likely going to be far less in those younger players than older players, NFL players because their exposure, the number of impacts, the severity of impacts is far less. With my research, I've measured those head impacts and compared them to high school players and collegiate players, and extrapolated to NFL players because that data isn't available. And you see this big stepwise increase in exposure from the youth, the high school, the collegiate, to the NFL players.

[With parents], I'm reassuring them that the risk is far less for the younger players than what they hear about in this type of study. We're talking about an apples-to-oranges comparison.

I also like to remind them that, in my opinion, the game of football has never been safer. I've got a bit of a personal perspective on this as well, because I played football myself through college.

NL: Who did you play for?

TM: I played for a Division II school in South Dakota called — it's Augustana University now; it was Augustana College when I played there.

So I played 12 years of tackle football, and I can compare what tackle football was like when I was in fifth grade versus now — with the training that coaches have and the type of equipment they have and the way the practices are structured. It's completely night and day.

Even at the collegiate level, the way in which collegiate practices are conducted and the safety measures that are in place for current collegiate players is nothing like what we had when I was playing. So I like to reassure players that this is probably the safest time to be playing the sport of football.

At the same time, I acknowledge that this is an individual decision that parents need to make with their kids and evaluate that risk. One of my goals as a researcher is that I want to provide more empirical evidence so that they can make an informed decision, so that a parent would be able to say, "My son's risk of getting a concussion while playing youth football is 1 in whatever" — you know, 1 in 10, 1 in 5, or 1 in 100, whatever that case may be. And his risk of getting CTE by playing four years of youth football or four years of high school football would be this. Then you make an informed decision. Is that risk worth the benefit of participation?

Unfortunately, we don't know what that risk is [currently]. We can't tell parents, "Here's objectively what your risk of injury is going to be." It makes it tough for parents. So I like to reassure them that a lot of the concerns that are expressed for NFL players are greater than they should have as parents of youth players.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity. It is for informational purposes only and is not meant to offer medical advice.

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In 2013, MIT neuroscientists Steve Ramirez and Xu Liu published a paper detailing how they had created false memories in mice. They'd used optogenetics — where cells' activity is manipulated using light — to plant a fearful memory in the brain and then reactivate this memory with these pulses of light. The breakthrough helped to propel research in the field by showing that memories can be artificially constructed.

The initial experiments involved using a protein to tag brain cells in the hippocampus (a key memory center in the brain) that were active during the formation of a fearful memory. They then reactivated these "fear memory-bearing cells" while the mice were perfectly safe. The first four mice showed no response, but the fifth froze in fear. After analyzing the fifth mouse's brain, it turned out they had placed the protein in a slightly different location of the hippocampus to the others by accident — and inadvertently found the exact spot where the memory was stored — and that it could be manipulated and controlled.

In his book "How to Change a Memory: One Neuroscientist's Quest to Alter the Past" (Princeton University Press, 2025), Ramirez, now an associate professor at Boston University's Center for Memory and Brain,explores fundamental questions about memory: What is it, and can we manipulate it? He uses his personal experiences ‪—‬ including with loss, PTSD and addiction — to probe these ideas, asking whether this line of research could open new paths to treatments. He conceptualizes a world where memories could be manipulated to help ease a person's PTSD, or guard against dementia.

Live Science spoke with Ramirez about the book, the future of memory research, the ethics and implications for treating disease, and our brains' extraordinary power to recall our past. "How to Change a Memory" has been short-listed for the 2026 Royal Society Trivedi Science Book Prize.

"How to Change a Memory" excerpt: 'As if a shudder ran from its brain to its body': The neuroscientists that learned to control memories in rodents

Hannah Osborne: In the book, you reflect on your and Xu's major 2013 paper, noting that it was initially the result of a botched surgery in a single mouse. What if that little mistake hadn't happened?

Steve Ramirez: If we hadn't accidentally botched the surgery, I'd like to think we still would have gotten there, because what would have happened was that we would have done all the surgeries correctly, we would have hit the wrong spot, and everything would have been a negative result. And then, we would have said, "Maybe this is the wrong area to try to activate a memory." Now, where we would go next, I don't know.

I'd like to think that we would stay within the hippocampus and we would say, "Why not this other part or this other part?" Or maybe we would have moved to another brain area. But I think it would have delayed the inevitable by maybe six months or less.

Having hit the area, I think we realized that these mistakes — I shouldn't say mistakes; these unintended outcomes of an experiment — are certainly something that I think are pretty common. We just don't look for them often. A lot of times, we'll see a negative result and say, "OK, there's a million reasons why this experiment may not have worked as predicted," because it's very hard to touch base with reality and test the hypothesis. But I think it taught us to look a little bit more deeply when we see results that are either confusing or head-scratching.

The more I talk to people in science, I think everyone has this version of this one hiccup in an experiment [that] led us down a completely different rabbit hole that ended up being the basis of a paper or a series of papers ‪—‬ or, in mine and Xu's case, a career and then some.

I wouldn't say that they're universally common in every experiment, but I think that biology is so squishy, we're going to get things that kind of zig when we think that they're going to zag.

HO: Throughout the book, you talk about engrams. What are they, and why are they so important to memory research?

SR: An engram is a theoretical construct. It's a theoretical topic that certainly elicits every possible opinion out of memory researchers because it's kind of the holy grail of "what is memory." We think of an engram as whatever the physical basis of memory is.

It's almost like, what are the cellular building blocks of a memory in the brain? Whatever those building blocks are, that's what we consider an engram. And the reason I say that it's theoretical is because we don't really have a clean-cut "This is where an engram begins and ends in the brain."

We're not at the point where we have a Google Maps for an engram and we can zoom in to "This is the emotional part, and this is the smell associated with the memory." We have more of a zoomed-out satellite view of what an engram looks like. But we'll get there, and it's important, because if we have a full understanding of the physical manifestation of memory in the brain, then we have a way better chance of predicting what's going to happen when those building blocks break down and give rise to certain kinds of amnesia or cognitive impairments or memory loss.

By analogy, we have a pretty good understanding of how the heart works down to the physics of how a pump works, for example. Now that, thankfully, has enabled us over the past 200-plus years of cardiology, to have heart valves that we could 3D print or grow in pigs or things like that. With the brain, there's no law of physics saying that we can't get there to turn the brain into how we view the heart, where we can 3D print pieces to replace what was broken, or we understand a bit of clogging in this artery will lead to all of these different impairments.

We're only beginning to understand what those [metaphorical] clogged arteries look like in the brain, especially when it comes to memory. So if we have an understanding of the detailed physical picture of what an engram is, then we'll have a better shot of being able to predict what happens to ideally even prevent its breakdown, for example.

The goal is to understand the physical basis of memory and to use that understanding to try to enable well-being to an individual.

HO: In your experiments, you've used optogenetics to manipulate memories in mice, but that technique isn't widely used in human medicine yet. If you wanted to apply it in humans as a therapy, are there hurdles we'd need to get over? How are we going to be thinking about changing memories in 10 years?

SR: I'm so glad you asked, because I think it can go in two directions. Optogenetics is not really used in humans at all, except for maybe like eye retinal therapy, because you can flash light into the eyes and it's noninvasive and pretty straightforward. [Editor's note: Optogenetic retinal therapies are currently in clinical trials.]

There are groups working on some pretty remarkable technologies on being able to deliver [genetic] payloads into the brain, such as an optogenetic tool, but in a way that doesn't even require putting a virus in the brain [as is often done in gene therapies] or the optic fiber. There's groups working on giving even injections peripherally — like in the arm or in the rodent tail — and have that make its way into the brain, so it's way less invasive.

I'd like to think that technologically, we [researchers in the field] are working on trying to get optogenetic tools as noninvasively in humans as possible. But maybe the question becomes, do we want to do optogenetics in humans? And I just think that we may not have to, because there's so many other ways of doing what optogenetics does in rodents in humans, but especially with regards to memory.

In rodents, we have to go in and find those cells that hold on to a particular memory, that part of an engram, and activate those cells to get the animals to recall the memory. In humans, I can just ask you, "How was your night last night? How was your dinner? Did you have anything particularly savory or sweet?" Then, just through noninvasive verbal communication, a world of memory can come back in your mind.

I'd like to think of what we're doing in rodents as setting a blueprint for the kind of work that we could do in humans and that we can be clever about how to access things like memories in humans, where invasiveness like deep brain stimulation or transcranial magnetic stimulation is probably a last line of defense, whereas maybe the first lines of defense would be more cognitive behavioral [therapy, or CBT] because it requires no invasiveness into the brain at all.

HO: You look at the ethics around memory research a lot in the book. Where do you think the line is for whether we can apply memory manipulation, versus whether we should?

SR: I think there's two things happening simultaneously here. I don't think we should ever, for example, remove personal agency from the decision-making process here unless our personal agency has been removed by a particular disorder or something that can be medically considered [as having] robbed us of our ability to do the things that we want to do.

For instance, a patient living with depression, we may not just be able to tell them, "Think positive memories." Well, no, that's the very thing that we can't do, right? It's like asking someone with a broken leg to walk it off. So I think of it this way, where this kind of work can go with humans: we have to have some morally or ethically bounded goal of why we're doing what we're doing.

The goal of our research is truly to understand memory and to use that understanding to restore health and well-being to an individual. Now that's pretty arbitrary. That's human-made. We've made that up. We're the ones that made up this ethical boundary that this has to be used as a force for good — but by having that either ethically, or morally, or even medically bound goal, it can prevent us from derailing because we have a goal in sight that considers the overall well-being of people.

This is kind of like a sinister example, because people have compared this to the Manhattan Project. The goal was to build the bomb — it was to build or use nuclear fission; create it so that we can create a bomb. Now that's not necessarily an ethically bounded goal. The goal there is "win a war," and it's kind of the opposite of how I think about our research. The goal of our research is to prevent misuse by anticipating it first.

So what are the seat belts and what are the guardrails here? If we start by considering memory manipulation as part of our tool kit to help tackle disorders of the brain, then we have to use that inherently into some sense of good or medical good.

If we keep memory manipulation in the province of medicine, and in the clinic, then we can at least start in a way that takes the person into consideration first and foremost. We can study it to see, what are the side effects? Just like with any other drug, long-term use, is there desensitization? Are there clinics popping up everywhere that's doing this underground? We can anticipate all of this, right? Begin with it in the clinic, because we can have a kind of social infrastructure that can prevent its misuse and really hit the accelerator on using it for good.

The second part — and where I take my academic hat off and just become part of the public like everyone else — is, it's on us, society as a whole, to at least engage with some semblance of science literacy in a way that I think science can really be conveyed and used for good, whether it's storytelling or as a tool. Right now, it's so easy to fall under the traps of misinformation.

When we think of memory manipulation, everyone thinks Hollywood: "Eternal Sunshine [of the Spotless Mind]," "Total Recall." That's good for getting the conversation started and saying, what did "Total Recall" get right and wrong? What did "Eternal Sunshine" get right and wrong? But let's look at Hollywood, and let's use it as a case study of, where did memory manipulation go wrong here? Let's avoid that, or let's try to come up with some infrastructure that can avoid it. Where did memory manipulation go right? Let's try to do more of that and build some infrastructure around that.

HO: In the book, you note neuroscience is a relatively young discipline compared to things like astronomy. What do you think is the weirdest and most mind-blowing thing about memory that we still don't understand?

SR: The first thing that comes to mind is — I don't know how many memories we have, but let's just say we have a million memories or 10 million memories — that it's amazing to me that if I had 10 million memories, they all exist in my brain right now. They're all there. I can randomly think of the last time I ate steak, and my steak memories come up. Or I can randomly think of the last time I played a song on the piano, or me and Maple [his dog] going out for a walk, and then all of those memories come back.

So, 9,999,999 memories are quiet right now in my brain, except for one, which is me going out for a walk with Maple yesterday. But presumably, the other memories are still shaping me and sculpting my brain and influencing very much my biology, my sense of self, my personality, my identity, because they are me. They're just not bubbling into consciousness at the moment.

I think it's amazing that I can recall one memory and on the basis of what that memory is, I can either be moved to euphoria because I'm thinking of some of the happiest days of my life or be moved to tears because I'm thinking of more somber days of my life. And both of those can happen within like five seconds or less, depending on which memory I chose. I can experience the peaks of happiness or the valleys of sadness within five seconds or less. It's crazy that we can do that without really breaking a sweat.

What is everything else [the other memories] doing simultaneously? They might be helping to sculpt things like our imagination or our dreaming or our sense of self, which is an aggregate of all the sum of all of our experiences. I think that the fact that memories can move us through the entire landscape of emotion within seconds and that we have so many more memories that just fly under the radar of consciousness that are probably doing that and more is pretty remarkable. It's kind of scary, but it's kind of remarkable to think about it that way.

HO: On a related note, why do we wake at 3 a.m. and think of something stupid we did 20 years ago?

SR: As someone that wakes up like every other night at 3 a.m., I totally resonate here. There's a couple of theories. The first is less of a theory and more of a point. In terms of like the previous question about how remarkable memory can be, it's amazing that we have dormant memories that are decades old that, up until right now, we have every reason to believe we'd forgotten them. They don't exist anymore ‪—‬ out of sight, out of mind ‪—‬ and they're off into the ether now. But the fact that we can wake up at 3 a.m. and randomly remember something from 20 years ago is beautiful evidence that memories might go into dormancy for decades, but they may not actually be gone or erased or forgotten.

It's kind of wild, because I think that we have more possible connections in our brain than we do seconds of life. I don't think we would ever run out of space in our brain. I don't think that would ever happen.

But in terms of like waking up and the kinds of memory or waking up and recalling memories from the distant past, one theory is that whatever was happening when we formed that memory, there were particular sights and sounds and smells happening around us, and presumably we also felt a particular way during the formation of that memory, like our inner state was something when we were making that memory. Probably through random chance, when we wake up …our inner state happens to match the state that we were in when we made that memory, plus maybe a couple of more cues ‪—‬ a random song in the background that was playing that reminds us of it, or a particular odor, or maybe even something subtle like we saw a commercial an hour ago that just primed that.

I think it's evidence that some memories may truly live on in the brain for the entire life of a person, even though we don't recall them for decades, meaning we have access to an insane amount of memories in the brain that we don't always actually intentionally access.

We don't have an answer for it yet, but it gives me hope that some memories that are thought to be gone are not and actually way more restorable.

Hannah Osborne: It's a very personal and moving book, which you dedicated to Xu Liu, who passed away in 2015. What made you want to write it, and was it a difficult process?

Steve Ramirez: There's two things that made me want to write this book. The long-term reason was because I've always wanted to write a book since I was a kid. I do think that there's this inner 5-year-old core of me that thinks that if you're on a bookshelf, you matter somehow, like you did something that was important that all of humanity can read and presumably benefit from or learn from in some way, and I always found that cool as a kid.

More personally, in 2015, a book agent had reached out, asking if I was interested in writing a book. And I said, "Absolutely — but I have no idea about what." It wasn't until Xu passed away that all of the puzzle pieces clicked, [and] I was like, "I know what I want to write about" because I now have a real passion project. I knew that I always wanted to intertwine a bit of myself in this project because that's the way that I teach. In the classroom, I often bring my lived experiences.

More than anything, it was a way of honoring my friend, and that really felt like the purpose of the book — to honor my friend and, along the way, teach neuroscience, because that was kind of the basis of our friendship to begin with. I realized it's not so much that I want to as much as I have to write this book. That turned into very much benefiting from it in all of the weird ways that writing a book can change a person.

HO: Could you tell me about how you and Xu met and when your friendship clicked?

SR: Our friendship really did click on the first day that we met. We met in the lab, so we knew that science was going to be the common denominator of conversation, but it just so happened that there was a social that day for our building, which just meant free food and drinks for everybody. When we started chatting, we said, "Let's go; let's not miss the free drinks and food. Let's go to the social, and we'll continue our conversation there."

Then we spent the next couple of hours talking about all of these ideas of trying to artificially reactivate memories and why we thought they were important. It was such an easy conversation to have because I felt like I could let my academic guard down around him because, at least in the first year of grad school for me, it felt very stuffy and everyone at MIT was like an insane hotshot in some way and very intimidating. But Xu was just someone that I could level with; I could ask my quote unquote dumb questions, and I could just have a regular conversation about science.

When we were in the elevator ride back up to the lab, he mentioned just in passing that since it looks like we might be working together, we should just be co-first authors on everything that we do. It was just so perfectly emblematic of how our friendship would evolve, where all of our talks, all of our presentations, even awards, we were very like down the middle because there was no one without the other when it came to how we did our projects together. The combination of the scientific and the interpersonal made it easy. We were quite different people but very complementary, and I think that's what made it work.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

Last year, scientists achieved a historic first by providing a patient with the first-ever corneal implant made solely of human cells grown in the lab.

Corneal transplants are used to treat severe corneal scarring and inflammation, eye injuries and complications from eye surgeries. They replace the clear dome at the front of the eye, and usually, the tissues for the procedure are collected from organ donors after death. But in this case, one donor's corneal tissue was used to create hundreds of implants through sophisticated laboratory culture techniques and 3D bioprinting.

This technology, created by Precise Bio, an Israeli regenerative medicine company also based in North Carolina, produces a transparent, layered structure that resembles a healthy, natural cornea. The approach could help to reduce the scarcity of donor corneas worldwide, the company says. An early-stage trial, known as a Phase I trial, is currently underway to evaluate the technique's safety in human patients.

To learn more about the science behind the 3D-printed corneas and the next steps for development, Live Science spoke with Precise Bio co-founders Aryeh Batt and Dr. Anthony Atala.

Neelanjana Rai: How are most corneas for transplants sourced and prepared, currently?

Anthony Atala: They are typically recovered from deceased donors within a few hours of death and then banked. They go through screening and testing, and are then preserved until implanted — usually within a couple of weeks — before being transplanted to patients in need.

NR: Are there problems or limitations with this approach?

AA: Absolutely. In fact, availability is a major challenge. There is a very limited donor supply and a significant worldwide shortage of transplantable corneas, meaning a lot of patients lack access to corneas for implantation, which is a huge deficit.

Aryeh Batt: Today, for every cornea transplant performed worldwide, roughly 70 people remain without one because there are not enough donor corneas. There are between 12 million to 15 million people worldwide in need of a cornea transplant who do not have access to donor tissue.

AA: The ultimate goal is to completely eliminate the shortage of these corneas.

NR: How does Precise Bio's approach aim to solve those problems?

AB: At Precise Bio, what we do is fabricate tissues, starting with a donor cornea as our first product. We begin by isolating the cells and developing a proprietary process for proliferating and expanding them. From a single donor tissue, we are able to generate enough cells, a bank of cells, to fabricate over 400 new corneas, which can effectively solve the shortage of donor tissue related to corneal transplants.

​There are various other advantages to our tissue as well. For example, it is much easier to transplant than donor tissue. We engineered it with very unique mechanical properties, which shorten operating times and make the procedure much easier for the surgeon.

Another advantage is that, because we print the cells, we can precisely define the cell density of the tissue. While a standard donor tissue provides about 2,000 to 2,500 cells per square millimeter, our tissue has over 4,000 cells per square millimeter. This means the optical outcome of our tissue is expected to be superior to donor tissue.

[Editor's note: Laboratory and animal studies show promising results regarding the ease of the surgery to insert the implants, as well as the cell density within the printed tissue. However, human clinical trials are still ongoing, and therefore, claims that this printed tissue performs better than human donor tissue still need to be confirmed.]

Another important advantage of our tissue, in addition to the availability, is the fact that it is fully tested. We have a production line. And in the production line, the tissue goes to a full quality control test, which also includes viruses and fungus. So when you receive a cornea from our production line versus a donor cornea, ours is fully tested and quality controlled. There's no chance that you're going to have a virus or a fungus that later will affect the tissue in the patient's eye. So these are the advantages of our tissue versus a traditional donor tissue that exists as a treatment today.

[Editor’s note: Traditional donor corneas already undergo rigorous safety screening, including blood testing of the donor for infectious diseases, such as HIV and hepatitis, along with tissue-culture checks of the transplant for fungal and bacterial contamination. Precise Bio's manufacturing model allows for controlled batch testing throughout production and up to transplantation.]

NR: How does the technology work, and how does your printing system ensure that the cornea is uniform and smooth so light can pass through?

AB: The technology is not just the printer; the printer is simply the production tool with which we fabricate the tissue. The technology is a combination of many elements. When we look at natural body tissues, they are composed of cells and the ECM [extracellular matrix], which is the structural material. When we fabricate a tissue, we start from these two components, trying to stay as close as possible to natural tissue by using human cells and natural materials [such as collagen and ECM].

The fabrication process combines the ECM — in most cases, a human collagen-based material — into two layers. One layer is made of collagen, and upon that collagen layer, we print the cells. When I talk about printing cells, think of a standard color printer with red, green and blue cartridges; in our printer, we load human endothelial cells [flat cells that form linings in the body]. We flow these cells through the printhead inside a material called bio-ink, and every laser pulse deposits the cells. This enables us to arrange the cells in the exact anatomical structure they occupy in the body. Post-printing, we manually transfer the tissue from the printer into an incubator, though this final handling will be fully robotic and automated in the future.

NR: The implant can be rolled up, loaded into an injector, and then unrolled inside the eye. What makes the printed material flexible enough to do this without breaking?

AA: Basically, we're using the same material that is present in your very own cornea [collagen] to maintain flexibility, and the printer allows us to deposit the cells precisely where they are needed.

NR: The platform has "single-cell resolution."Why is that important?

AB: The fact that we can arrange cell by cell enables us to mimic the anatomical structure, the exact structure of the tissue of our body. Depositing cells one at a time at very high viability gives us a major advantage in replicating what the body naturally expects.

AA: The best way to explain it is that nature has already figured out the best design through evolution. What this technology does is effectively replicate what nature has already achieved.

NR: You say these implants could be frozen and shipped worldwide — has that been tested?

AB: While we are currently conducting our Phase I study in Israel, product development has included extensive testing on shipment. We shipped the product from the Middle East to the U.S. and back and transplanted the tissue into animals to verify that it functions after international transit. We had to evaluate shipment times, transport environments and how to maintain tissue properties on a plane.

To assist that, we also developed various technologies related to cryopreservation of the cells and prior preservation of the tissues, which enables us to, at the end of the day, have a supply-on-demand mechanism so we can manufacture anywhere and ship it anywhere in the world for the patient's benefit worldwide. Currently, our tissue is shipped very similar to the tissue that is shipped from a donor tissue, where we have a shelf life of around four or five days.

NR: You've recently conducted the world's first transplant of these new corneas as part of the trial. Could you describe the procedure and how well it worked?

AA: The first patient had been legally blind [in the treated eye] for 14 years.

AB: This specific patient had a non-functioning cornea and could not even count fingers [before the procedure]. This was due to pseudophakic bullous keratopathy, a condition where the cornea swells permanently and forms fluid blisters following cataract surgery.

She is close to nine months now since her transplantation, and she sees well. After several weeks, she was already able to read the menu in a restaurant and subtitles on the television. The most important outcome of this is that now, she can see normally — with her new cornea.

We continue to follow her progress and we will follow up again at the nine-month point and then at the year point. This is essentially the way we do with all of our patients. Now, we already have five patients [who have gotten the new transplants].

AA: [Based on the trial participants they've treated so far] patients recover similarly to those receiving a traditional corneal transplant; visual recovery occurs quickly at first, but continues to improve over time, with initial recovery taking place within days to weeks.

NR: Is there a risk of immune rejection with this kind of implant?

AA: With current techniques using corneas from deceased donors, the cornea is considered "immune privileged," meaning it has features that reduce immune response. Because it lacks blood vessels and lymphatic vessels, the risk of rejection is much lower than with other transplanted organs.

Of course, a small risk always exists with any medical procedure, but even with human bio-printed corneas, the risk is very low and most rejection episodes can be reversed if treated promptly.

AB: There is always some risk of rejection in the eye, but this is taken care of with very mild steroids. In the first weeks, the frequency of the drops is higher, then as the patient moves forward we reduce the need for these steroids.

NR: What are the next steps for developing this treatment?

AB: We are in the process of developing longer cryopreservation of the tissue, and we will be completing the Phase I trial in 2026, completing the transplants. And then we will move forward to a more advanced stage. We are planning to transplant an additional 10 patients until the end of the year [as part of the ongoing trial].

After Phase I, we will be submitting an Investigational New Drug [IND]application to the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, where we are targeting to do the more advanced studies. [Approved IND applications grant permission to give a new, unapproved medicine or biological product to clinical trial participants.] The primary focus of this study will be in the U.S., while continuing clinical sites in Europe and Israel, and exploring regions with high demand like India.

In the future, the extended studies that are planned for 2027 will open up to other patients also with other health indications [such as diabetes or high blood pressure].

NR: What timeline do you foresee for getting these new bioprinted corneas fully approved?

AB: We anticipate commercial distribution of our corneas in the U.S. by 2030, followed by expansions into Europe and other regions.

AA: These current studies are still in their very early stages, which is why we are carefully assessing the technology and following patients long-term to ensure the approach can be successfully expanded. As soon as that groundwork is complete, the next phase will move forward in the U.S.

This interview was lightly edited for length and clarity.

This article is for informational purposes only and is not meant to offer medical advice.

Despite being one of the remotest places on Earth, more than 100,000 people journey to Antarctica every year. And within the next few years, the number of tourists flocking to the continent each summer could reach 450,000. That's far fewer people than visit the Great Barrier Reef or Grand Canyon National Park, but Antarctic tourism comes with a colossal carbon footprint — and the frozen continent is a particularly vulnerable place.

A study published online July 8 in the journal Annals of Tourism Research reveals the impacts of Antarctic tourism from the perspectives of 25 former guides who, year after year, took visitors on cruise ships to some of the most remote locations on Earth. What these guides witnessed eventually made them quit, the study and an accompanying article in The Conversation show.

To find out exactly what drove the tour guides to leave their roles and whether such individual choices make a difference to Antarctica's overall condition, Live Science spoke with two of the study's authors: social anthropologist Zdenka Sokolickova and polar tourism researcher Liz Cooper, who both work at the University of Groningen in the Netherlands. Sokolickova and Cooper divided the interviews between them, speaking with 14 male guides and 11 female guides about their experiences. Together, those conversations shone a light on the reality of Antarctic cruises and the huge emotional toll of quitting a dream job.

Sascha Pare: How did you get the idea to interview former Antarctic tour guides?

Zdenka Sokolickova: We both started to work as postdocs on this project. We started with interviewing current Antarctic tour guides, because we wanted to know more about the industry, and about how they felt about the tourism development. The industry is booming; it's growing rapidly. And with more vessels, more tour operators and more people wanting to go and visit on a guided tour, there is also a bigger need for guides. So more people are accepted into the industry, and that comes with consequences; for example, the industry might need to lower the standards for qualifications, or there are safety risks coming with people who have less experience.

But we also heard that, at the same time, some tour guides are leaving the industry. We felt that it could be interesting to get to talk to these quitters, because they are likely critical and without vested interests in the industry, since they have deliberately left. We posted ads or calls for participants on closed Facebook groups, because we also know that the polar-guiding identity is quite strong and people tend to stay connected to the community, at least digitally or virtually. Within six days, we had 30 sign-ups. It went really fast, which kind of confirmed that there is a need within the community to voice some concerns.

Liz Cooper: We were also motivated to do this study because, generally speaking, tourism research usually incorporates the voices of people who are connected to the industry. It's not so common to see the voices of people who have removed themselves from the industry or refuse to engage with the tourism industry.

Antarctic tourism is, on a global level, a small industry. Around 120,000 people per year go to Antarctica [as of 2025/2026]. But the really interesting thing about Antarctic tourism is, of course, that this is the most remote place on Earth that you can visit as a tourist. This means also that it's the most carbon-intensive form of tourism that you can engage in on Earth. And, of course, it's an extremely fragile place, as well. So you have enormous global environmental impacts from the emissions from long-haul flights and from cruise ships, and then you have wildlife populations and a very fragile ecosystem there that is easily pitched out of balance. We also don't know very much about how tourism impacts the ecosystem in Antarctica either. We do know that it's bad, but we don't really know how bad. It's, in those terms, a risky practice, I would say.

SP: Did the former guides mention specific events that contributed to, or propelled, their decision to leave the industry?

ZS: In the "Mind the gaps" paper [the Annals of Tourism Research study published July 8], we speak about these tipping points that can be external or internal. External means that something in the outer world happens that makes you realize that you cannot continue like this any longer. We had quite strong accounts of that happening, like the cruise ship breaking the sea ice for the sake of the guests' experience so that they could land on the ice, for example, and observe wildlife or get to a place.

Many of these former Antarctic tour guides were polar tour guides, meaning that they also worked in the Arctic. For some of them, this decision happened through experiencing both Arctic and Antarctic tourism, so some of these tipping points happened in the Arctic. But we still felt it's relevant for our analysis, because polar tourism is connected, even though geographically, these are separated regions. We had a very strong account of something that happened in the Arctic, where the cruise ship hit a whale, even though the tour guide saw it and he was trying to communicate that. But there is a hierarchy in the chain of command that he couldn't break. He ran to the bridge and told off the captain, and then, after that incident, he quit.

There was a story about someone finding a little penguin chick in a boot hole. Normally, when you're trampling over snow in Antarctica, you're wearing these snowshoes — boots — and you're supposed to cover up the holes when you're leaving the place. But, obviously, not everyone does that. And so this person found a little chick that was struggling and couldn't climb up the boot hole. That also was a tipping point; it was the moment when that person realized, "I don't want to participate in this any longer, because if I weren't here, this little creature would have died."

LC: The most striking story that I remember was a participant who was talking about how the ship that they were working on sometimes would try and find a place on the sea ice to land, so that they can get the guests out walking on the sea ice. Not all companies do this, but some do. And then, they have to put the gangway down onto the ice so that people can walk directly out onto it. This piece of ice that they had chosen was apparently too thin, or too unstable or something. Where the gangway was connected to the ice, the ice kept breaking, so the ship kept having to move farther into this ice floe to get a secure holding.

On this piece of ice, the participant remembers that there were penguins with their chicks. And penguin chicks, when they're born, have fluffy down feathers, which are not waterproof, so they can't swim until these feathers have molted and they grow waterproof feathers. What this participant recalled was that, as the ship was moving in to get a hold on the ice, it broke this ice floe into many parts. Penguin chicks became isolated on smaller ice floes. Our participant remembered thinking, "That chick is not going to shed its down feather before this small ice floe melts." Essentially, our participant came to the conclusion that these chicks wouldn't make it.

SP: Emotionally, how easy was it for these guides to quit their jobs?

ZS: For some people, it was more difficult internally, emotionally, to make that decision, and for others, it was easier. We think that for those who were more environmentally concerned, it was, maybe a bit counterintuitively, more difficult to take that decision. Now we could speculate [about why]: Was that bond with the place stronger? Also, the emotions that were felt upon quitting were very mixed, I would say. It was a mixture of both feeling angry and feeling sad with feeling relieved — a "weight lifted," as someone put it.

But it definitely was, for many people, a struggle that took a long time in terms of years — from when you realize that your values actually cannot reconcile with what you engage in; through you realizing that there is a radical solution to that, and that you cannot muddle through or find alternative justifications; to deciding to quit; and still from there, to actually quitting. There is a path to walk. You can have decided, but you still can be doing the job, not feeling good about that.

SP: Has it been easy for these people to find new jobs that are more aligned with their values?

LC: We found that many of those who had quit primarily for environmental reasons and had gone through this particularly difficult decision-making process then made it their life objective, or aim, to do something good for the environment. We have a group of participants who actually moved into environmentally focused jobs. We have somebody who went on to set up an environmental NGO [nongovernmental organization]; we have somebody who went on to fight wildfires; various sustainability positions. It was, for some of the participants, not just a difficult and life-changing decision in the sense that it was hard to do but also because it changed the trajectory of their lives into becoming somebody who's more actively pro-environmental in the world.

SP: Did any of them regret their decision to quit?

ZS: Many of them did, until this day. Since it was a difficult decision to make and to act upon, it still triggers emotions, and people still think back. Yes, some of them do resent and regret and wish it was less environmentally harmful and wish they still could be having that dream job.

SP: Did any of the former guides reflect on the effectiveness of their decision, given that someone else could have potentially replaced them in their job the very next day?

LC: Yes. As I recall, many of our participants actually didn't really believe that their decision would make an impact in the overall environmental state of Antarctica. I don't agree with that. But there was a general feeling that, "OK, my individual choice isn't going to make a difference in the grand scheme of things" — also because, like you say, they expect that they will just be replaced, and probably replaced by somebody who's less environmentally concerned than them and might engage with Antarctic tourism practices in a less environmentally responsible way, which actually might make things worse. But in those cases, the decision to leave was basically mainly based on this internal conflict — this uneasiness that got so monumental that they couldn't live anymore doing this job.

What we do in the paper, now on a bit more of an academic level, is we argue that even though, yes, a single choice of an individual really makes an incremental change to the enormous problem of the climate crisis, these decisions [can be framed as] high-impact, pro-environmental behaviors. Because when you look at other individual behaviors that people are encouraged to do in their lives to reduce their carbon footprint, reduction of long-haul flying is one of the most impactful things you can do. And these guides were traveling several times per year — long-haul, back and forth — to South America, and then on cruise ships a lot, which are also carbon-intensive. Their reduction in their carbon footprint by making that choice has been massive. Even though they were feeling personally like maybe they weren't making that much of a difference, I do think that their choices have made a big difference.

SP: Was there anything in the interviews that surprised you?

ZS: Several of them said that they felt alone when they were going through this process of deciding and after [they quit]. They said that the fact that we asked for their opinions and their stories made them feel that they're actually part of a bigger community of people. It made me feel like we're actually responding to a need that exists in the field and that these people actually want to be heard. They want their concerns to be public, but they maybe had feared repercussions, or had even faced some repercussions, when they were being critical while still working in the industry.

SP: Did your interviews touch on other popular destinations where tourism may be doing more harm than good? I'm thinking, for example, of the Galápagos Islands and "last-chance" tourism in the Arctic.

ZS: They actually did. Some of the participants who quit in Antarctica still guide in the Arctic. So what we often heard was this juxtaposition, or comparing what it's like to be guiding in Antarctica and in the Arctic. The often-repeated argument, which I resonate with, is that in the Arctic, there are human communities. If it's their desire to choose this tourism path, tourism can be benefiting the human communities. In Antarctica, there are no permanent human settlements, and the nonhuman Indigenous inhabitants of Antarctica have no voice. Who asks the penguins, or the krill, or the orcas whether they want tourism there? If we could ask them, they would probably say no. Also, many of the guides live either in Northern Europe or North America, so the travel is shorter to the Arctic. It just makes more sense for them to stay in the business up there and quit in the South.

I actually did have one guide who also had experience from Bali, for example, and other regions in Southeast Asia. There, the reflections were actually around how destructive tourism can be in Indigenous regions, where people have no say and they don't benefit from tourism; they're just being "consumed" as a resource, as a sightseeing item, basically. That person quit cruise guiding overall, because they felt it was destructive.

LC: We also had a few people who, in their life after the decision, still worked in tourism but deliberately only in very local tourism. They, for example, set up a kayaking company in the local area where they lived, because they're still passionate about showing people beautiful places and connecting people with nature, but they simply couldn't reconcile taking people so far to create that connection with nature.

SP: Having done this work, what do you think people should consider when booking their next vacation?

LC: I would like people to properly research the impacts and consider, if the impact is significant, whether they really need to go or whether they can go in a low-impact way. For example, can you take the train instead of a plane? And if you have to take a plane, do you really have to go?

ZS: Several of the tour guides actually said they wished people asked themselves, "Why am I going to this place?" If it's just to tick off the seventh continent or the 75th country, or if it's just to show off on social media that you have a selfie from the Antarctic continent, then it's not worth this enormous carbon footprint.

If it's to feel a connection with nature and be away from the urban, hectic life, you definitely do not need to go to a place that is this remote. Perhaps you have a place where you can feel that connection with nature just a couple of kilometers away.

If it's this lifelong dream, I don't feel entitled to say, "You shouldn't go," because for those people, it really plays a big role in their lives. But the "bucket listers," as the guides often called them — the guides felt like these people actually don't belong, and maybe even they don't deserve this beauty and this breathtaking fragility, to be consumed and to be forgotten the next month, when another intercontinental holiday is happening.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

Social media has upended how people engage with healthcare, as it provides a platform for people to share their experiences, find support groups, and learn more about symptoms and conditions. But it's also given nefarious actors a platform to promote products, spread misinformation and prey on people's fears. Meanwhile, algorithms deliver users an individually tailored stream of content, promoting and prioritizing the most engaging posts with little oversight.

In her book "Bad Influence: How the Internet Hijacked Our Health" (Oneworld Publications, 2026), author Dr. Deborah Cohen, a broadcaster, journalist and editor who has a medical degree from the University of Manchester in the U.K., examines how social media platforms and influencers have transformed people's views of healthcare, from the proliferation of weight-loss drugs and hormone therapies to billionaires seeking immortality.

Cohen spoke with Live Science about her book, the shifting landscape of healthcare discussions moving online, and how health literacy is now key. "Bad Influence" has been short-listed for the 2026 Royal Society Trivedi Science Book Prize.

Read an excerpt: 'A fine line between reducing stigma and trivialising conditions': Social media, self-diagnosis and the glamorization of ADHD

Hannah Osborne: You wrote in the book that we're in the middle of a global experiment in public health that will take years to understand. What do you think the results are going to be?

Deborah Cohen: What we know about healthcare is our ideas, concerns and expectations shape health. So if you go to a doctor, what they're trying to establish is what your ideas might be about your particular condition, your concerns and what you want to take away from that particular consultation. Obviously, our ideas and concerns or expectations are very much shaped by the information environment, and this is going to change again when we're adding large language models [LLMs] into the mix. We're going to have a new wave of health literacy.

My concern from writing the book is there's possibly a lack of understanding of what healthcare can always deliver. One of the challenges I felt was when you go to social media and it provides you with certainty and often quick fixes, but then you go to the Health Service [the National Health Service (NHS), the U.K.'s health system], where they can't really provide you with certainty, and there's complex solutions or there isn't an obvious solution. You're balancing competing risks, benefits and harms.

I do wonder about how realistic our expectations [are] about what health and science can actually deliver ‪—‬ our expectations about what a health professional should do, or how much time they have available. You know, our tech is available 24/7. And particularly with large language models, you can query that at any time of the day or night. What does that do to trust? We think there are quick fixes for stuff where inherently there isn't.

I think our experiment really underpinning all of that is, what do we want from our Health Service? What do we want health to look like or to be? What do we want from our doctors or our therapists? What do we want those relationships to do or be, on top of the tech that is going to be more and more widespread? What's going to be the role of the doctor in all of this? These are very live questions.

I suspect it's going to be different for different generations, different cultures, different within different health services as well. If you've got an abundant Health Service, which no country has, perhaps there's less need for these tools to bridge the gaps.

HO: We have strained healthcare systems. Is the gap between doctors and patients widening because of social media, or is social media filling a gap?

DC: It's both. And that's what the problem is — the gap is filled, but not necessarily by the right things. If you are looking for support, does it have to be on TikTok? Are there other ways of having forums and that kind of support delivered on a digital device? Are there other, safer ways of doing this online?

Equally, there's something about the way the content is delivered there that appeals. It's the short storytelling, and [health authorities are] having to compete against that. What's the solution? It's multifaceted, but if people are used to getting their information on TikTok or Instagram, and then you look at the NHS website, which is as dull as dishwater, it's no wonder social media is more appealing.

You've probably got to change how you deliver information. Maybe you need more storytelling rather than really dry content. If people are used to getting that, and that's what they respond to, then you need to think about that. It's a connection. What does that tell us more broadly about our society? How do we better deliver information in the way people need? That might be an LLM, [but] again, that's a whole other debate.

HO: You spoke to a lot of people about how they use social media for their health. Did you find an overriding theme in what they were looking for?

DC: It was women. It was a lot of feeling unseen and unheard. You have whacking great lists of gynecological issues. There's a sense that female health has been massively underfunded — and it has. But I guess it's, what fills the gap? That doesn't mean "femtech" in all its glory fills that gap. Empowerment isn't fully evidenced interventions. It's like, we've got this app, no idea what it does; it actually might do you harm, but it's filling a gap. That's not good healthcare.

It's a variety of issues. One of the issues of social media is that people passively consume information — health information as well — so it will bring up information you didn't even know you were necessarily interested in. You hear repeatedly that "the algorithm knows me better than me." There's a sense that these algorithms are objective and they get to know you.

One psychologist told me, "they know your neurosis better than you do." But is that really true about the algorithm? That's where one of the challenges of diagnosis is. These will be questions for large language models for diagnostic purposes.

Then, for others, it's more active. They'll have active people that they follow who provide health information, particularly around menopause, longevity, ADHD ‪—‬ stuff like that.

HO: In terms of those algorithms and how they increase anxieties, is there any way of backpedaling when, as an industry, it's making people a lot of money?

DC: What was interesting was how people now do ADHD on TikTok according to what's going viral, because they want more engagement — and we know engagement drives money. It's as linear as that in many ways. Part of the problem, then, is if you start to see a particular condition on social media, what does that do to our understanding of that particular condition?

They're all the broader questions about how the algorithm behaves. But what do you do about it? The algorithm needs sorting. When we talk about what tech companies can do, I think the algorithm potentially is one of the more harmful aspects of social media.

HO: While you were researching and writing, was there anything that really surprised or shocked you?

DC: I've been an investigative journalist for so long that little shocks me these days. Where there's a gap, people will step in and make money. We live in a capitalist society.

For me, as someone with a medical background, it's the behavior of doctors who should know better. That is the bit that doesn't sit very well with me. I think the GMC [General Medical Council, an independent regulator of doctors, physician associates and anesthesia associates in the U.K.] needs to start thinking about what to do because one of the techniques that influencers use is parasocial relationships, where they lean into the artificial relationships that feel real to the followers, and there's all sorts of techniques they do to enhance that. There are doctors doing that.

Then, they lean into authority bias and say, "Well, actually, I'm a doctor, and this is what I do, and this is how I use my treatment; this is how I treat myself." Using that to promote a product is really uncomfortable.

Yet that is employed on social media. They tell the similar hero's journey. "I have terrible symptoms; then I did this, and it totally transformed me and changed my life." It's when it's a health professional and they use social media as a front gate to their clinics, and advertising their platform to their clinics to offer interventions that lack an evidence base or are potentially harmful.

It's not shocking, because I've been in the depths of all sorts of investigations ‪—‬ but I thought that was pretty ick.

HO: The book isn't all negative. There are positive stories about support groups and help groups. Is there any way to separate the bad from the good?

DC: It's really hard. What I say to people is to ask why that person on the platform is telling you what they're telling you. What's this person trying to tell me? There's a lot of people on there who are genuinely trying to do good, who want to either share their journey or help people understand the complexities of health and science.

But ask, are they trying to sell me something? How are they making their money? Are they promoting something? Just ask yourself, why should I believe you? Why should I listen to you? Why should I trust you? What are they getting? Is it fame? Are they getting their 15 minutes and more on social media? Are they getting a little bit of a dopamine hit from that?

I use the dopamine here advisedly because hormones and neurotransmitters are totally misused on social media — we're just a bag of hormones or neurotransmitters when we're far more complicated, really.

If they're telling you about the benefits of the treatment, are they telling you about the harms? Because nothing is harm-free. What's the risk of doing this thing, or what happens if I do nothing? What are the alternatives to what I'm being sold? It's just basic health literacy and skepticism.

HO: We've touched on this a bit, but with the emergence of LLMs, how do you see the landscape shifting in the next five to 10 years?

DC: We're still working out how the information environment fits together. There are potential benefits with LLMs — we've got to know where the information is provided, and we all know about the hallucinations. But can they help people interpret medical information, medical jargon better? Can they use them to sort of brainstorm what treatment they want?

On the other hand, are they more uncertain? We know there's been concerns over them [AI chatbots] being sycophantic. How does this all fit together?

When I wrote the book, I thought it's going to be out of date because LLMs have come along and no one's going to be using social media. But then research from about a month ago found that 50% of Americans under 50 use social media as a source of information about health.

It's going to fit together in different, complex ways for different people. They might hear about something on social media and then use LLMs to explore it further, and then use that to help guide treatment or diagnosis.

How it all fits together is still a bit of a conundrum.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

Throughout his career as a composer, Jim Nollman has worked with unorthodox partners to create music. Instead of collaborating solely with human musicians, the artist has expanded his cast to include animal bandmates, and they've been making melodies together for more than 50 years.

Nollman's new album, "Orcas' Greatest Hits," will be released Aug. 14 by the music label Smithsonian Folkways Recordings. As the title suggests, the album is a collection of songs centered around orca (Orcinus orca) vocalizations.

Nollman now lives in Friday Harbor, Washington, but he recorded these sounds off the coast of British Columbia between 1985 and 2002, using underwater microphones called hydrophones. The vocalizations weren't random calls that Nollman overheard; rather, he prompted the orcas to "sing" by broadcasting his and fellow musicians' music into the water via underwater speakers. The artists kept the volume at a reasonable level to protect the orcas and performed after dark to avoid motorboat sounds.

However, orcas weren't Nollman's first animal bandmates. Fresh out of Tufts University in the 1970s, he made music with various animals, including turkeys, wolves and dolphins. To learn more, we spoke with Nollman about his career, including several years he spent consulting with the U.S. Navy, and the extraordinary interactions he's had with whales and other creatures.

Sascha Pare: How did you first start making music with animals?

Jim Nollman: In my latter year at university, I got involved in the theater, doing all the music for all their plays. I soon got into John Cage [an American composer known for his innovative approaches to sound] ‪—‬ first in Boston, and then in the San Francisco Bay Area when I moved there. I got to know some of the avant-garde music people, especially in Berkeley, because there was a big movement there [centered around California's KPFA Radio].

I'd been in Mexico, playing flute, and the turkeys next door would always gobble on a certain high note and at a certain volume. I said [to an editor at KPFA], "Why don't you send me to a turkey farm? I'd like to do a Thanksgiving Day piece." He gave me a sound man and a Nagra tape recorder. I remember vividly, because having a Nagra after just getting out of college was a big deal for me. I was into technology. [Editor's note: Nagra is a Swiss brand of portable audio recorders.]

The turkey farm had 300 turkeys, and I immediately learned from the owner that it's really only the males that gobble. He kept the males and the females separate, so he put me into the fenced-in area where the males were. I started singing, and I could control them. The turkeys closest to me would start, and the gobble would go out to the edge of the 300 birds. And then it would come back, and then they would all stop. I was singing "Froggie Went A-Courtin'," which is an old American folk song [originally from Scotland] about animals. I sang 30 or 40 verses of this song and controlled the turkeys.

I was around 24 years old, and I had a hit. I knew I wanted to be a musician, but I had some major flaws to be a performer, because I didn't like being the center of attention. I'm kind of an introvert. That's a loser if you're trying to be a singer-songwriter. I loved writing tunes and playing them, but not in front of a big audience. This [recording tunes in nature with animals] was a way to get into music.

After the turkeys, I wondered if I should try making music with animals again. I tried it with kangaroo rats [Dipodomys deserti], which build these burrows like Trinidad steel drums. Kangaroo rats only come out at night, and they thump to each other in their burrow systems, which are tuned — it seemed to me, anyway, that each place in the burrow had a different tone — and they communicate with one another.

Then, I went to a wolf preserve. I realized that the wolves did two or three howl sessions in the morning around dawn and two or three at night. The wolves wouldn't play with me if I was out of their key. If I played a flat note, they would stop and basically tell me, "We don't mind if you're playing in our pack, but you've got to do it right." That was a big lesson for me, and that's how I got into it.

SP: Your new album features orcas. Did you always have a sweet spot for orcas, or is there another animal you preferred working with?

JN: No, I don't have a sweet spot for orcas. I recorded orcas for 15 years, and I had lots of recordings, most of which I never really listened to, because I didn't know what to do with them. At some point, I decided that "I can't do anything more with the orcas, and I don't like going to whale conferences and being this authority," because it wasn't about that for me.

[After years of recording orcas], I started going to the Arctic ‪—‬ because I wanted to go to the Arctic and because beluga whales [Delphinapterus leucas] were there, and they seemed like the opposites of orcas. The orcas were very much in tight families traveling together and making very simple calls that had deep meaning. To have their echolocation against a speaker at midnight could be like being in a war zone. It was so loud; we had speakers blow out sometimes.

The beluga whales were the antithesis of that. It seemed like they all were talking at the same time, and they all seemed to know what everybody else was saying. This is my speculation. They used sound as their family anchor, and I had no idea if they all understood each other talking. But it was very much more animated than what the orcas were doing. I would say 50% of the orca calls were just two notes; they were D to C, and back to D. And they would do that all day long, some of them. Beluga whales sometimes sounded like belly laughs. They made the weirdest sounds, and I loved it.

I went everywhere in the Arctic. I started out in the first year going to Nome [Alaska] in the Bering Strait, and then I went east to the Mackenzie River delta in northern Canada on the Beaufort Sea. Then, I went to Baffin Island in the Canadian High Arctic. In every place I went, limited beluga populations were crashing. At some point, I realized this was a complete loser. I pretty much gave it up until I met some people from Finland who said, "You should try it in Russia." The Soviet Union had recently crashed, and they were opening up all the places where they had their gulags [forced labor camps] and their nuclear fleet. The Solovetsky Islands were loaded with beluga whales that hadn't seen people in 70 years. I went there, and I had a great time with the beluga whales.

SP: What is your favorite memory of working with orcas or beluga whales?

JN: Six or eight years ago, somebody brought me and a bunch of other artists up to Hudson Bay [in Canada], basically to emulate what I'd done for so many years [artistic residencies to experiment with whale sounds]. I was the mentor for everybody. I liked that role. We were confronted with beluga whales, and I said, "I don't really want to play the guitar or the mandolin with the beluga whales, because I've tried that all over the Arctic and I've never had much success. I'm going to put my head in the water and blow bubbles."

The beluga whale came up, and it wrapped its mouth around my face. It did the same thing to the woman who was blowing bubbles on the other side of the kayak we were on. That was maybe the most fun thing I ever did with cetaceans. I wasn't worried at all. I've had the same thing happen with giraffes. I was in Texas at this game farm, and this giraffe came and licked my whole face with its giant tongue. It was really quite wonderful.

SP: The oldest recordings in the new album are 40 years old, and you said you hadn't listened to all of them before making the album. What was it like hearing them after all these years?

JN: I had 65 hours of tapes, and I listened to them over three or four months. Ninety percent of it was rubbish; it was just repetitive, and the whales would get into their D-to-C-to-D call routine. I wanted something where there was a groove, or some kind of magic going on that was inexplicable.

I started choosing some sequences. I thought it was only a certain level of connection that we'd created, but a couple of the things that I listened to when I was in that process blew me away. The one where I was playing James Brown riffs into the water ‪—‬ that was very strong for me. I'd never heard that before. I was discovering new stuff by giving it a close listen.

There's one where I was being filmed by National Geographic, and it was just me and a guy on a big boat cruising the waters. I started playing a country blues bottleneck on the guitar. [Editor's note: A bottleneck in country blues is a guitar-playing technique where a hard object is placed on a finger and glided along the strings.] The whales only did this a couple of times, but they would come in with a chord change. Say I'm playing in a key of D; they would come up and play the G in perfect time. I was impressed by that.

SP: Did you ever play the recordings of you and the orcas back to the orcas?

JN: No, because the recording can't answer the whales. I was trying to make a telephone connection, so it has to be two things talking to each other. To play a recording would be like me saying, "Let's stop this interview now, and I'm going to put on something of me giving an interview to somebody I spoke to yesterday." You wouldn't like that, and I don't think the whales would have liked that either if I did it to them. It had to be direct. I had many people who were very ardent or passionate about singing or reciting poetry — one guy wanted to sing Jewish death prayers to the whales. But the whales didn't come.

SP: Is part of why you've been so successful at making music with animals that they particularly like you?

JN: Some animals like me. I definitely got through to the orcas. I could tell that, because I had an interim of eight years between doing it with the big communities [of artists] and going out alone with the orcas. They were the same orcas, and they definitely knew who I was the first time I put sound in the water again. That's when that country blues episode happened. We were all much more relaxed with each other. The second time was great. It was also a tragedy, because the whales had lost their residence to the loss of salmon [in the northeast Pacific Ocean], and they were way out of their range.

SP: Your work with orcas and other whales landed you a job with the U.S. Navy in 2011. How did that happen, and what was your role?

JN: I was doing underwater concerts in the 1990s. I was invited to Kodiak Island, which is a large island off the coast of southern Alaska. They wanted me to do an underwater concert. At the time of this festival, in which I was performing, the U.S. Navy was sending ballistic missiles from Southern California to the waters off Kodiak Island for testing. This was destroying the halibut [Hippoglossus stenolepis] fishery on Kodiak Island, because the fishermen couldn't go into this area, suddenly.

The Navy sent a guy who was part of this ballistic missile thing but also had a PR background. He said, "Can I speak before your concert?" I said, "You can speak about whatever you want, but you've got to get in the water. That's the payment you have to give me: Get in the water and hear all this music that I've created."

He was blown away. I had a fan. He took me out for dinner and asked me if I had any ideas about solving this great scandal that was enveloping the Navy at the time, which was the killing of mostly beaked whales during mid-frequency sonar exercises, mostly in the Bahamas, in this hole in the ocean that's there. Nobody had a solution, so he wanted me to be on the team. I said, "Sure, I'll be on the team." It was like somebody asking me to play for the New York Yankees or something — completely odd, but I thought, "OK, I'll try that."

He called me back two years later, saying, "We have our money, and we want you to come to the Groton submarine base [in Connecticut], where we'll have our first meeting with submarine captains, Ph.D. sonar engineers and a few whale biologists." That went on for seven years. I took the job seriously. I told them that I thought we could solve it in five minutes. I said, "All you need to do is take care. If you see whales in the vicinity, don't exercise on that day." This sounds so totally obvious, but the fact was that he [the PR man] was contending with a Navy establishment that believed that the Navy could do anything to save the American people from being bombed or wrecked. They didn't see whales as anything but collateral damage.

SP: Do you have a favorite song on the new album?

JN: I like "The Three Jimmies." I never knew that James Brown's guitar player was named Jimmy Nolen — I mean, that's really outrageous. So, it's the three Jimmies, right? I really like the music, and I like the piano player [Jonathan Churcher], who plays one note every three or four bars. The response of the whales is also brilliant, I think. There's one part where the whale starts to echolocate, which is the way they see the world; it's their perceptional tool. The whale starts clicking in time with the beat that I'm playing on the guitar. That only happened once in 65 hours of recordings, and I thought that was pretty unusual.

SP: What's next for you after "Orcas' Greatest Hits"?

JN: I'm composing new music, and I'm hoping I'm at least breaking even [with the new album] so that they [Smithsonian Folkways Recordings] can do the next one, which is called the "Cowbird Variations." The cowbirds are basically the bottom voice, maybe the part that's played by bass in pop music. Everything else is other birds and insects called treehoppers. It has this very primitive sound to it.

I love doing this music with cowbirds, because cowbirds have a horrible reputation. They lay their eggs in other birds' nests, and when the eggs hatch, the baby cowbirds knock all the birds in the nest out and kill them. Then, the parents — juncos, where I live — end up raising the cowbirds. These birds have a terrible reputation, but they make one of the strangest sounds in nature — so that's why I chose them.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

Long before chemistry was a formal science, humans were experimenting with substances to solve problems, cure illnesses and make money. In his book "The Age of Alchemy: How Early Innovators Shaped Modern Chemistry" (Profile Books, 2026), author Kit Chapman, a science journalist and honorary researcher at Falmouth University in the U.K., traces how this ancient, protoscientific tradition shaped the world.

From our ancestors' early use of fire to some accidental — and disastrous — pyrotechnics in the 14th-century French court of Charles VI, Chapman reveals how early innovations across the world paved the way for modern science.

Live Science spoke with Chapman about his book ahead of the 2026 Royal Society Trivedi Science Book Prize, which he won on Sep. 29.

Read an excerpt: 'These were harder than any other blades, cut sharper and cost more': How ancient Sri Lankans created steel of legends by harnessing monsoons

Hannah Osborne: The book is full of brilliant historical anecdotes that bring all of these alchemy breakthroughs into context. What was your favorite one and why?

Kit Chapman: I mean, you can't go wrong with a man trying to turn his own urine into gold, I think. Hennig Brand [who accidentally discovered phosphorus in the 17th century] was one of my early touchstones. I've known about this story for a while. I've always thought, "How can I get this into a book? What's the link?" Obviously alchemy provides this fantastic base. He bankrupted two wives to try and fund his 1,500-gallon [5,700 liters] urine habit — and then he gets something [phosphorous], against the odds.

This is the first element we can actually put a name to. This is the first person we can say actually discovered a chemical element, and it's an alchemist in the purest sense of the word. Then, of course, he tries to keep it secret. He sells it, eventually, to a friend, and his urine goes on tour around Europe, showing the kings and queens this glowing pee, before suddenly, [chemist and philosopher] Robert Boyle actually works out exactly what's going on.

That, to me, sort of encompassed everything I was hoping for in the book. There's a fantastic story there that's about human connection. There's the unraveling of mythology, and theology and belief, and starting to look at science. But there's also real practical stuff going on there. He didn't know what he was doing. He just didn't know why he was doing it, and that I found fascinating.

HO: You make the point that these people weren't thinking, "Oh, I'm going to do chemistry." How important is that for understanding how these early innovations shaped modern knowledge of how things work?

KC: I think that's essential. We often look at science as something separate from the real world, and one of the things that I really wanted to do with this book was to illustrate that science is going on in every profession. It's going on in every home, continuously; it's going on in our bodies continuously. It's everywhere.

Science is a way to understand what's going on in the world. It is not a separate thing from culture, from belief, from trade, from globalization, from discovery, from just getting on with life. I wanted to bring in the potters, the weavers, the bakers, the urine salesmen — which was an entire thing that I didn't really know I had to go down. I found it fascinating.

And, of course, [there are] artisans. When we start looking at the first actual chemistry that's being done, it is people trying to create beautiful works of art, perfumes, things like that. It moves away from survival and into this ecstatic beauty, and that, to me, encompasses what I love about the history of science. It's bringing all of these threads together and making discoveries not necessarily where we think we're going to find them.

HO: You mentioned the beauty of it all, and the perfume. One of the chapters I really enjoyed was the first chemist who was a female perfume maker in ancient Assyria.

KC: Tappūtī Bēlet-ekallim. The fascinating thing is that the only reason we know her name is that she put it down in cuneiform. She wrote it down. She may well have been a slave; perfume makers were often slaves. She was certainly a woman who was working in the palace. She was working with another woman whose name, unfortunately, we've lost to time.

What I find fascinating is that we now have this person who was one of the working class, one of the underdogs, slaving for a week to make this potion that she wrote down because the recipe is incredibly detailed. And we remember her name, but we have no recollection of the lord or lady that she was actually making it for. It's kind of class warfare throughout the centuries.

HO: I found the extreme sort of secrecy really striking — that so many of these ancient texts were lost because they were being hidden. But then you also have the fall of civilizations, so we've lost all this knowledge.

KC: It's this combination of, as you mentioned, hiding the recipes because they are trade secrets. If you look at the first alchemy book that we actually know of — "Physika Kai Mystika" — it literally translates as "natural and secret questions" or trade secrets. These were craftsmen, and, of course, they didn't want to share it with rival craftsmen. If you've got a really good recipe for making something look like gold, you want to keep that to yourself.

They use these code words — and that went all the way through into what we think of as alchemy, that sort of Renaissance period where they're talking about taking the fiery sword from the belly of the dragon, which is just wonderful and descriptive.

But you also have things like Emperor Diocletian destroying the texts in Alexandria in 300 A.D. Why did he do it? Because it was a matter of survival for him. Twenty-five of his predecessors were murdered by their own guards or died of plague and things like that ‪—‬ horrible fates. He wanted to avoid that, and the idea that [someone] could turn something into gold terrified him. It would debase his currency, so it always brings in that politics. It brings in human nature and human curiosity.

HO: Do you think there are still things we're yet to discover from alchemy from the past?

KC: Yeah, without question. Whether or not we're going to discover some kind of new, groundbreaking technology that's going to change the world, I can't see that happening. But the one thing we could see is the use of natural products in a way that we hadn't necessarily thought [of].

A great example of that is [Nobel Prize-winning chemist] Tu Youyou and the discovery of artemisinin compounds [from the] qinghao [plant], which comes from a Chinese alchemist's herbal remedies book, essentially 1,700 years ago. The fact that the best defense we have against malaria, the best antimalarials possible, comes from this ancient alchemical source indicates that there's probably more to find.

There is almost certainly more to find in terms of how they [ancient alchemists] used recipes, how they would try and make gold. Their understanding of the world is something that we don't necessarily have a full grasp of, and we're still piecing it together. There's some wonderful work being done by Matteo Martinelli and others looking at the history of, particularly of Western alchemy emerging in Egypt.

We also have things like Greek fire. We have a pretty good idea how they did it, but if you're looking for what the exact recipe [is], we're still not 100% sure.

HO: It's interesting now, watching modern equivalents taking place. We still, to an extent, try to guard our own knowledge.

KC: Yeah, we do, and I think it's actually a pernicious thing in science. We have this publish-or -perish mentality, which is that if we don't get the paper out first, obviously we lose the patent, but wider than that, we lose the kudos. There's this kind of necessity to kind of hide things. You hear about all kinds of shenanigans ‪—‬ a reviewer delaying a paper until their paper comes out, things like that, all this kind of naughtiness going on.

We've got to recognize that science has moved on certainly from the "Great Man" idea. We're now working collaboratively in teams. That is the only way that modern science gets done. The second, if there is one lesson from the book, it's that if you try and hide science, you delay progress.

The moment you actually start spreading ideas, the real ignition for me for the Renaissance and for what becomes chemistry, is the printing press. It's the fact that ideas can then be shared and accessed by everybody. The moment we start realizing that science is a global endeavor, that everyone can do it ‪—‬ man, woman, child, it doesn't matter your nationality, [it] doesn't matter your ethnic ethnicity, it's for everybody ‪—‬ the sooner we're going to start seeing some major progress that we otherwise wouldn't make.

HO: We see loads of the advances in chemistry and alchemy within civilizational melting pots. What were some of the biggest surprises to you when you were researching the book?

KC: One thing that really annoyed me was, looking through textbooks, you can look at who made zinc, and you come up with a name that came from the 1700s, or how platinum was discovered — that's a fantastic example. Platinum was discovered by a conquistador who noticed that some natives were wearing platinum. But, of course, he didn't discover it; it was discovered by the Indigenous populations.

The amount of science that came out of Mesoamerica, Central America, and the way that science was also being developed in India, it's just kind of completely overlooked. If you look at the traditional story of science, we talk about Europe. Occasionally, we might bring in China. But India, Africa, Mesoamerica, South America, North America ‪—‬ every single continent was having scientific discoveries and developments.

They weren't necessarily developments that we think of in terms of leading to chemistry, but they were dealing with social problems that they had at the time. They were tackling what was in front of them, and we always need to remember when we're looking at history to look at the context of the discoveries.

HO: Which breakthrough did you think was most impressive in terms of the materials or facilities that were available?

KC: One thing that I found sort of striking was, there's a chap called Paracelsus who is absolutely fascinating, absolutely bonkers. Paracelsus is, for me, the archetypical alchemist because he was certainly trying to revitalize medicine and get rid of humor theory and come up with all these ideas. [Editor's note: Humor theory is the idea that human health and temperament were related to four fluids in the body — black and yellow bile, blood and phlegm.] But he also believed that mermaids were real and that they were just out to steal men's souls.

He was a drunk, he had a broadsword, and yet he's the guy that was able to combine what we think of as the traditional herbalist role and the doctors. At that point, doctors weren't even touching patients. They believed that the true skill of a medical man was that you didn't even need to examine a patient; you could just sort of look at them and you'd know what was wrong. He [Paracelsus] was able to say, "No, that's not right; you need to actually test things, and you need to try things." The moment we actually combine those two different threads together is when we actually started to get what becomes of modern medicine. The number of lives that saves is incalculable, so I think that that's one of the great moments.

The other one that always comes to me is Antoine Lavoisier in the French Revolution. He made several great discoveries — the fact that matter can only be changed; it can't be destroyed [at least at low energies]. The idea that if you take something, then obviously there's got to be components to that; you're not making it out of thin air. And coming up with a list of elements in the French Revolution or just before the French Revolution, unfortunately dies, from the guillotine [when Lavoisier was executed].

That, for me, was when we started to get true chemistry. That's when all of the magic is dispelled. I think he [Lavoisier] is, for me, the French equivalent of Isaac Newton. He's incredible.

HO: For you personally, throughout researching and writing the book, what was your biggest takeaway and what was the biggest surprise?

KC: My biggest takeaway is that science happens everywhere continuously through everyone. I traveled around the world for this book; I went to pretty much all of the continents. I didn't go down to Australia; that's about it. Wherever you go, there are discoveries being made. There are people who are trying to make their worlds better.

Science is not for this elite group; it's for everyone. One of the things I try to do with this book is to show people that even if you think that science isn't for you, it absolutely is; you're doing science continuously.

There've been so many [surprises]. One of the things — this is purely because of the way that I was taught and these inherent biases that we have — but it's so easy to overlook the role of women. When you start delving into the role of women in science … You've mentioned Tappūtī; we also have Mary the Jewess. Throughout the Renaissance, we have people like Caterina Sforza and [the] very famous Queen Christina of Sweden, which I didn't mention in the book because I just didn't have space.

The one shocker for me is this book "The Secrets of Isabella Cortese," which was a man pretending to be a woman to sell his science book. For me, [it] just kind of unravels this whole idea that science isn't for everyone.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

The Caspian Sea, the world's largest inland body of water, is in major trouble. Since the mid-1990s, this saline lake, located between Europe and Asia, has lost an area nearly the size of Sicily. But until now, it wasn't clear why.

Researchers finally provided answers in a study published June 5 in the journal Earth's Future. Using ground- and satellite-based observations, they connected falling water levels to a drastic drop in river inputs from Iran, Turkmenistan, Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan and Russia, all of which border the Caspian Sea.

The team particularly highlighted losses from Russia's Volga River, the longest river in Europe, which supplies roughly 80% of the Caspian's inflow.

To find out why the Volga is discharging less water into the Caspian Sea now than it did 30 years ago, we spoke with Amir AghaKouchak, a co-author of the study and professor of civil and environmental engineering at the University of California, Irvine.

AghaKouchak, who directs UC Irvine's Center for Hydrometeorology and Remote Sensing, explained why river inputs have dropped and how decades of water withdrawals have put the Caspian Sea on a path to collapse. He also touched on a solution to this crisis — and revealed why Russia's hunger for ammunition to attack Ukraine is making it harder to save the Caspian Sea.

Sascha Pare: Falling water levels in the Caspian Sea have been attributed to natural variability, and more recently, there's been a focus on climate change and increased evaporation due to rising temperatures. But what did the results of your study show?

Amir AghaKouchak: People quickly jump to conclusions about climate change. Of course, that is important, but it cannot explain the change that we have observed. Over the last 30 years, water levels in the Caspian Sea have shrunk by around 2 meters [6.5 feet] or so. Just to put things in perspective, this translates to about 24,000 square kilometers [9,300 square miles] of sea area loss — about 5%. When we look at drivers, we notice that rainfall hasn't changed significantly over the lake and upstream, so the decline cannot be explained simply by changes in rain.

Evaporation has increased, so it explains maybe about one-third of the change. There is less water in the lake, and that indicates there's probably some water lost along the way. We don't have a lot of human-related data ‪—‬ for example, water withdrawal for irrigation or groundwater wells. That area is very difficult; the countries are not open to sharing data. A lot of our results are based on looking at proxies. Our interpretation is that temperature caused about 30% of the change and the rest is probably because of human activities.

SP: Which human activities does your research suggest are responsible for the Caspian Sea's decline?

AA: Several of the countries on the Caspian Sea have built large dams — Russia, for example. They are all desperate for hydropower. All of the countries around the lake [have also built infrastructure to supply agriculture], and one reason is that they want to create jobs and improve the local economy. Water demand is increasing in all those countries around the Caspian Sea. It's not surprising to see lakes drying or groundwater levels falling.

It's hard to find data about how much water countries are using; they keep data very private, especially places like Russia. We don't have detailed information, but the Volga-Don Canal in Russia is one of the projects that is contributing to this crisis. [Editor's note: The Volga-Don Canal is a ship canal that connects the Volga and Don rivers at their closest points.]

But we cannot blame this whole thing on that. We have to be careful with our language; we can't say one project is responsible. Most likely, this is the collective impact of many different small withdrawals from here and there, overall contributing to a significant decline in the Volga River outflow into the lake. In the paper, we have different rivers, but the Volga dominates because it's the largest river. The Volga has a higher impact than all the other rivers combined. There are lots of demands along that river basin.

SP: Did you expect human activities to play such a big role, or were you surprised?

AA: We did not have any expectations at the beginning. In fact, when we started this project, I reached out to a lot of colleagues from neighboring countries around the Caspian Sea. We didn't want to do it on our own, sitting in California, looking at another area of the world, without having local people involved. If you look at the co-authors, you see people from Azerbaijan, Iran, Kazakhstan — so, we have local experts. We thought this was really important to have those perspectives. I didn't want to reflect the opinions of only one research group. What we have here is the collective opinion of people who have not met in person; we only exchanged emails to look at the results, and then we came up with those conclusions.

We do have a Russian involved, but not from an official Russian institution. I thought this was really important, because there's more back-and-forth [with a large group of people]. If two people have to convince themselves of an idea, it's much easier than with 20. Also, we brought in people from other countries who had projects in the area; for example, there is one group from Finland and another group from Germany. We tried to come up with something that this large group of people could agree on. It was not easy, but it worked out.

SP: What is the worst-case future scenario for the Caspian Sea if shoreline countries fail to decrease their water demands?

AA: My concern is that, in the same general area, we have the Aral Sea, which is now about 5% to 10% of what it used to be, and Lake Urmia, in northwest Iran, that has also shrunk really fast and is now very small, with low levels of ecological activity. So we have two smaller lakes in a very similar climate that, from an ecological perspective, are dead. Because we have seen those degrade, we have to consider that this is the worst-case scenario for the Caspian Sea, too.

The Caspian Sea is much, much bigger. I hope it doesn't happen, but it's on the same path. Again, it's much larger, so it would probably take 100 years [to shrink as much as the Aral Sea and Lake Urmia], even with the current trend. But because we have seen those lakes shrink really fast, it deserves attention. Due to the size of this lake, the potential impacts will be huge. Even if 20% of the Caspian Sea dries out, the consequences will be very significant. It would be a disaster.

SP: You mentioned that drying lakes can become ecologically "dead." What other impacts could the Caspian Sea's falling water levels have on the surrounding landscape and people?

AA: The lake's retreat will expose the lake bed, and because it's saline, you have all kinds of minerals that will be exposed. With the next strong wind, they will go into the air. The health impacts include respiratory diseases, and even eye diseases, that are linked to salt minerals in the atmosphere. Those are the immediate consequences. Additionally, those minerals can travel long distances. In general, salt deposition on agricultural land reduces productivity. It takes a while, but if those lands are exposed for a long time, this will have an impact on the agricultural sector in those areas, which means potential food security issues. We don't exactly know what those materials are on the lake bed, so it's hard to know precisely what the consequences will be.

There is also serious shipping happening in this region. Right now, most of the shrinking is happening in the Caspian Sea's northern part, which is shallower [than the rest of the lake]. The drop in water levels is about 2 meters, and you can imagine that if you have a port and water levels drop more, you won't be able to operate. You'll need to extend your shipping routes southward; you'll need to invest and spend a lot of money to use other ports and docking sites. We have evidence of that around the Aral Sea and also Lake Urmia. There used to be these docking sites and ports, but those are now far away from the water.

SP: What must bordering countries do to save the Caspian Sea and prevent these negative effects?

AA: Demand management is absolutely critical. Demand management doesn't get a lot of attention, because unlike big projects that make the news, management means you have to cut things and do things that people don't notice. Some people argue that politicians don't show a lot of interest in demand management, but it's something that we have control over. The technological opportunities are there.

But when you look at that area, there is a big war ‪—‬ so probably it's not the priority to invest in management. There are a lot of things that we don't talk about in the paper that are relevant. I recently learned through discussions with people from the region — this is something that came to us from co-authors and collaborators — that many countries in that area grow cotton, which uses a lot of water. It has a lot of applications, but apparently, one of them is military. Cotton is used to produce ammunition. Russia needs a lot of ammunition, so not only are they growing it themselves, but they also bought neighboring reserves from Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan. So now, even those countries have an incentive to grow more cotton. This is driving more irrigation, more groundwater extraction, more surface water depletion, and probably more impacts on the Caspian Sea.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

Forecasters are warning that the ongoing El Niño is likely to become supercharged in the coming months and inject potentially unprecedented heat into our already warming world.

El Niño is the warm phase of a multiyear natural climate pattern, but models suggest this year's cycle will be exceptionally intense. Super El Niño conditions could contribute to temperature extremes until next year, but scientists are warning that it may also pose longer-term threats.

Jong-Seong Kug, a professor in the Department of Earth and Environmental Sciences at Seoul National University in South Korea, uses observational data and artificial intelligence to model El Niño events.

Kug has found that super El Niño events can drive sudden, dramatic and even irreversible climate regime shifts. Live Science spoke with Kug to learn more about climate regime shifts and the long-term threats posed by this year's ongoing El Niño.

Patrick Pester: Last year, you published a study that found super El Niño events significantly increase the likelihood of potentially irreversible climate regime shifts. With a super El Niño now looking very likely, how concerned should we be?

Jong-Seong Kug: We should be concerned but not alarmist, because our study does not suggest that every super El Niño inevitably causes a climate regime shift. Rather, a super El Niño can push an already-stressed climate ecosystem across a critical threshold. If a system is near a critical threshold, then strong forcing can induce irreversible change.

Current forecasts indicate a very strong El Niño is increasingly likely later this year. We need to watch vulnerable regions closely, particularly those that are already experiencing severe warming, drying, ecosystem degradation or ocean stress.

PP: What kind of climate regime shift do you fear most?

J-S K: I am particularly concerned about the persistent shift in major ecosystems, such as the Amazon rainforest moving toward a much drier and degraded state. You know, a long time ago the Amazon was a savannah area, so we are now approaching this kind of tipping point. Also, in the Amazon, this drying can weaken [or] even reverse the forest's role as a carbon sink.

The Amazon is a carbon sink, but imagine it becomes drier and drier, and there's some die-back of the forest. Now, [carbon] sink becomes source. This could amplify global warming long after an El Niño event.

PP: Is there anything we can do to mitigate the threat of extreme climate and weather events in the coming months?

J-S K: We cannot stop El Niño. But we can greatly reduce its human impact or ecosystem impact. Governments should use precision forecasts to strengthen our heat health plan, water and food management and flood and wildfire preparedness. In the long term, a rapid reduction in greenhouse gas emissions remains essential because every additional degree of warming increases this possibility that an extreme natural event will trigger lasting damage.

PP: Do you think a reduction in greenhouse gas emissions is likely, given where we are now?

J-S K: I don't think so. It's very difficult.

PP: So, where does that leave us?

J-S K: I don't know. There are some additional techniques we may use at a critical point. Have you heard about climate engineering? Like stratospheric aerosol injection [reflecting solar radiation back into space]. If we cannot do anything, then we have to choose that kind of technology. I don't want this kind of situation, but maybe in the near future we have to decide.

There are two kinds of climate engineering. One is carbon mitigation, just direct air capture [taking carbon out of the atmosphere]. That is a safe way. The other is solar energy management. We can deflect more solar energy from the surface.

So, the easiest way is just to inject an aerosol into the stratosphere; then this aerosol reflects solar radiation, and then global temperatures will decrease. It's like a volcano: After a big eruption of a volcano, the global mean temperature drops by about 0.6 degrees [Celsius, or 1 degree Fahrenheit] because there is volcano aerosol [in the atmosphere]. Instead of volcano aerosol, artificially we can inject aerosol into the stratosphere. Then global temperature can easily decrease.

But there are many side effects. Some we already know, but some we don't know. Like climate inequality. If we artificially decrease temperatures, then some countries will have a drought or a flood. And then how will we compensate?

Obviously, if you want some kind of climate mitigation, we need a kind of consensus across the countries.

PP: Is there anything else you'd like to add that we haven't covered?

J-S K: This year, super El Niño is developing in an already exceptionally warm climate. We are already seeing widespread heat waves this year, so we cannot attribute every individual event to this El Niño. But El Niño will intensify toward the end of this year, so it is likely to further increase the risk of extreme events in many regions, so we need to prepare.

Editor's note: This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Climate change's impacts are being felt everywhere, from health and food security to extreme weather, sea level rise and collapsing ecosystems. World leaders have been slow to adapt to the warnings, despite an ever-growing body of evidence showing the compounding risks of greenhouse gas emissions.

But despite fossil fuels remaining the world's primary source of energy and emissions continuing to rise, there are changes afoot.

In his book "Despite it All" (Granta, 2026), author and journalist Fred Pearce looks at the shifts that have taken place over the last 40 years, highlighting how far humanity has come in the green transition. He believes this progress gives us reason to hope that we can eventually overcome the challenges we face today.

Pearce spoke with Live Science about his book, which has been shortlisted for the 2026 Royal Society Trivedi Science Book Prize.

Hannah Osborne: There are a lot of positive environmental stories throughout the book, including those that aren't necessarily being told. Do you think that there is a growing appetite for positive climate news now? And will it help us?

Fred Pearce: I detect a kind of desire to be told something other than it's all hopeless and there's nothing we can do. Some people are therefore saying, "Well, what can I do?" And they're very sort of personal stories about how they can contribute. But also people who think more, if you like, strategically: What can the world do, what can governments do, what, how can we influence that?

I try not to write what I think people want to read. I try to write what I want to say. And it seems to me that we do so many things so badly, whether it's managing our resources or water or handling forests or the climate, or pollution or whatever. We do things so badly that there is a great deal of scope for doing things a lot better. So, we need optimists and we need pessimists. We need pessimists to point out the problems. We need optimists to come up with some solutions or suggest where [there are] half open doors that we can push open.

I wrote this book in that kind of spirit to say "Look, yes, things are bad, yes, I'm not denying that they're bad, but there's an awful lot that we can do about it and in some cases are doing about it." That then divides into whether we're talking about human activity, our technical solutions to climate change. Tech fixes are good, not bad, which is something that can be a hard sell in the environment community sometimes, so I want to stress that.

I went to the Earth Summit 30 years ago where they agreed [upon] the original climate change convention. Back then they said we [need to] prevent dangerous climate change, but they really didn't know much about how to do it. Wind turbines were just, you know, a few masts on a hill in California. Nobody was dealing much in solar power because it was just so expensive. It had been developed for powering satellites and electric cars. Nobody was talking about [it].

We have made quite a lot of progress and it's not fast enough and CO₂ emissions are stable, they're not going down. We need to do a hell of a lot more and we may have passed climate tipping points. I'm not denying any of that, but rather than throwing up our hands or saying it's hopeless, let's get on with the tech, let's also recognize that nature is very good at recovering. You destroy a forest, a rainforest, it doesn't mean that it's destroyed forever. It will, given the chance, come back if we give it room. So let's give forests room to recover.

In large parts of the world it's already happening — in Europe, even in North America. Agricultural land is being abandoned, and when it's abandoned nature comes back and not necessarily in the sort of ways that we might think. But nature does come back, stuff regrows. We can see how evolution is being kickstarted, if you like, by the chaos that we're creating. That's not to say we shouldn't stop creating the chaos, but we can see how nature recovers.

These are things that we can recognize and respond to; giving nature room to recover, rewilding projects, therefore I'm all in favor of [them]. We're not rewilding where we're trying to garden nature to get back to some sort of perfected past, a pristine system where we thought that everything was great — pre-industrial revolution or before Europeans arrived in North America or whatever it might be. But, we can give nature room to evolve and adapt and change. We can see that nature's doing that all the time, with or without climate change and with or without humans. Nature is constantly, if you like, remaking itself.

I'm not saying nature always comes back in ways that we approve of. Let's recognize the distinction between our sort of slightly romanticized idea of what nature should be and what nature actually is.

HO: You talk about rewilding and letting nature take its course, but how do humans fit in with this? Can we adapt our own perceptions of what nature is allowed and what's not?

FP: I think we can probably forget about what's allowed and what's not. Nature will do what it wants to do. We pride ourselves on our ability to garden nature in a way, or manage ecosystems. We're not really very good at it. Nature will very often take over and do what it wants to do.

Some of the world's biggest rewilding projects have gone quite badly wrong because we haven't quite thought it through. The one I'm thinking of really is the large project in the Netherlands where they're trying to sort of recreate ancient European ecosystems and they ended up with mass deaths of animals because their conception of the ecosystem didn't quite figure out. They then largely abandoned the project because they didn't like to see large numbers of animals dying.

A hardline rewilder would say let nature take its course. I see the case for that, and often I would support that, but we have our own sensibilities and our own concerns and we are living in a world where we are very much in charge of what's going on. So while I'm in favor of standing back and letting nature take its course, we have our own sensibilities, and it's not wrong for us to want to intervene sometimes.

HO: There's a chapter on human population and fertility rates, and how this is very much a climate change story as well. We're now seeing a lot of the rhetoric around this, and rights being stripped back and taken away. What's it like for you, having seen the changes from the UN International Conference on Population in Mexico in the 80s, to Cairo in the 90s to now?

FP: It's an extraordinary story. I've been working on these issues for 40 years now so I've seen a number of changes. Some of the changes I've seen are how technical fixes somehow became a reality when they seemed very distant a while ago.

But our perceptions change too on many things. We are, in many ways, more attuned to environmental issues now than we were 30 or 40 years ago. One of the big changes that I've seen is the notion of the population bomb, which for much of the 20th century was seen as the number one issue. People would say, "Well, there's no point in fixing the climate, there's no point in reducing our pollution because there are more and more people on the planet, and we're kind of doomed for that reason."

Well, it hasn't [happened]. When I went to my first international conference, which was the UN Population Conference in Mexico City in 1984, that was all the rage. They gave the UN Population prize to the mastermind of China's one child policy, which — in terms of human rights and what I would regard as acceptable human behavior — was dreadful. But such was the concern about population issues that they wanted to give a prize to the operator of that program.

A lot has changed. A feminist agenda, if I could put it that way, and I would say that approvingly, has taken over in reproductive politics. I saw it at a UN population conference in Cairo in 1994, 10 years after the Mexico event, that we need to assert reproductive rights. Many environmentalists said that's a cop out. It was all "it's feminist perspective, but it's dooming us."

Well, it didn't, because what we found was that by and large, women wanted to have smaller families because their children got to grow up. Medical improvements meant that you didn't have to have four or five children to secure the next generation. Two would usually do, sometimes you just wanted one. Women wanted to have lives outside the home. The population people seemed to be a bit surprised by that.

The environmental agenda was a very male-dominated one for a long time. So that came as a bit of a surprise, but the net result is that we've halved our fertility rates. They're more or less down to replacement levels [of reproduction] now globally.

I'm not just talking about Europe or North America. I'm talking about almost everywhere except Africa, and African levels have come down. Sometimes they're coming down to super low levels, so that people are now talking about not having enough babies and how we can encourage people to have babies. There are parts of the world where we're down to one child per woman and even a bit less.

My argument is that we need to carry on. Not take a sort of Elon Musk approach [or] send the women back to the home and [do] reproduction and that's what their job is. We need to complete the feminist revolution so that women have more rights, can make better choices, and indeed couples can make more and better choices about the family size that they want. We can arrange things so that it is possible to have children and a career, or make it easier to do that, and at that point probably reproduction levels will come back up.

What I'm really saying is that the agenda is now vastly different from what it was as recently as the 1980s and, and into the 1990s. The population bomb is being defused, to put it simply, there's a residual momentum effect which means that our numbers will carry on going up a bit. Sure, that creates strains on the planet, but we're not now talking about double the world population every 30 years, which is what was being talked about back in the mid 20th century. It's tailing off.

We now have, if you like, a consumption bomb more than a population bomb. The global issue is consumption in the rich world, and that's what's stressing the planet now — not too many babies in poor parts of the world.

HO: Inequality between the super rich and people in developing countries is becoming more and more stark. How do we bridge the gap to make sure there's a reasonable living standard for regular people without a huge cost to the environment?

FP: The truth is, and the numbers have been done by a number of different people, a reasonable standard of living for everybody on the planet is perfectly feasible without destroying the planet.

We need to do some things better, we need to have better technology, but for me, right up there with climate change is an issue of global inequality. When I was young, it was taken [that] inequalities were diminishing and it was taken almost as read that they would carry on diminishing, and a lot of aid policies were directed towards that. That's kind of disappeared since the sort of Reaganomics of the 1980s, all the changes in the finance system and perhaps the fall of the Berlin Wall, which meant that the sort of socialist or, or equality-based agendas collapsed politically.

We're now finding increased inequality, and that, it seems to me, is a threat to the lives of millions and billions of humans, but also to global stability and our ability perhaps to manage.

Serious global issues like climate change and many others are all undermined by the political stresses and economic stresses created by rising inequality. I see them going together.

It's also clear that it's important to level up, but also level down from the obscene riches that we see among a small number of individuals, who seem to be accumulating a greater share of the world's wealth, whether we're talking about dollars or natural resources.

HO: You have a whole chapter on renewables and how they're outpacing fossil fuels. They're the cheaper alternative. How do you see the political opposition to clean energy panning out over the next five to 10 years?

FP: It's fizzling out. It's a weird political backlash and yes, any big social trend or economic trend, they all have backlashes and it feels to me like this is it. What we see in the real world is that the U.S. — not just the U.S., but principally the U.S. — are in a state of near denial about climate and they're wanting to go back to fossil fuels.

In the rest of the world, if you look at it in terms of geopolitics of [the] U.S. versus China, then the U.S. is pushing this rather old agenda of fossil fuels, and China is absolutely going to reap the benefits in many, many ways in its drive towards renewables. China has been a really bad story in the past with its coal burning — and it's still building a few coal-fired power stations. But the really big story is how China has been principally responsible for bringing down the costs of renewable energy, particularly solar power.

You can now go to the most remote corners of rural Africa and you find people putting up their solar panels to recharge car batteries so that they can run their lights in the evening or whatever it is. And then you've got megacities operating using increasing amounts of solar power. India is getting on the bandwagon as well. It's got the fastest growing solar energy economy in the world.

In the real world, renewable [energy] is mostly cheaper than fossil fuels. It is also quicker to install, you don't have to build a huge power station, you can do it in bits and pieces, bolt bits on.

Yes, there are grid issues and they need to be addressed, and there are limits on operating. There are challenges, but renewables are just growing so fast, and it is growing so fast because it is so cheap.

And it's become so cheap, to put it very simply, because the Chinese 20 or 30 years ago decided this is what's going to happen. While everybody else was sort of talking about it and fussing about it and doing it in research labs, the Chinese kind of got to grips with it. I remember back in the 1990s talking about people who were going into China and coming back and telling me stories about how the Chinese are really serious about renewable energy. To be honest, I didn't quite believe them, but they were right, and 30 years on, the world is living with the benefits. That's true whether you're talking about Europe or rural Africa or big cities in Asia or wherever. It's coming.

There will be different solutions in different places and there are undoubtedly things that are harder to do than, you know, running our national grids on renewable energy, which is becoming really quite easy and something that everybody wants to do. The cement industries, fertilizers perhaps, some of these industries will take some more technical innovation. But it's happening, these are technical fixes that are working in the real world. Will we do it in time? Well, we're a bit late on the case, but we are on the case.

HO: We're now seeing a massive rise in AI data centers as well. Is this bad tech, shall we say?

FP: It's a serious issue. Partly because they're growing so fast — they can't just plug into the grid because the grid really can't deliver, so these companies are developing their own energy systems. Even in the U.S. they are very often renewable systems because they're cheaper. If you've got a data center out in Texas, then you're going to use wind power or solar power because it's cheaper and you're in control of it.

I suppose we reach a point where [we have to decide], do we want to reduce our use of energy or have almost as much energy as we want, but just green it and green it very fast. It is true that if all the renewable investment is going into electricity for data centers, that leaves less investment for other sectors of the economy, so I'm sure there are trade-offs, and I'm not saying that we should embrace data centers. But they can be a driving force for adoption of different forms of energy, renewable energy, and for perhaps changes in the grid systems as well.

I think we can have both. I think we need to have both because we're probably not going to stop the data engines, so we've got to find ways of greening them. There are issues and there are challenges ahead, and I don't want to diminish any of those, but you know, let's, let's be hopeful.

The title of the book uses the word hopeful rather than optimist because I don't want to sound Panglossian, but I do want to inject some hope.

HO: When you started writing the book, what did you hope people would take from it, and did that change after you'd finished?

FP: Well it kind of evolved. It began as an idea to sort of [be a] retrospective of my reporting, and then the publisher said, "Well, the story changes rather a lot along the way, so rather than just showcasing your reporting over 40 years, why don't you showcase the change, and be hopeful in the context of how things have changed over the last 40 years?"

That was [the] kind of starting point, and we sharpened up on it, as we went along it did become "Despite It All" and you know, the title is important, and not diminishing the "All." There's a lot of bad stuff out there, but despite it all we can have hope and we can find, develop and demand solutions.

HO: Did you find anything during the process of writing the book that surprised you?

FP: As I say, it started as a sort of retrospective project and going through it, [there were places I went years ago] and it did look bad, then I checked up on what had happened over the intervening years and suddenly things looked a lot better.

I went to Alaska and saw how the conflicts over managing caribou herds and the huge migrations that go on and it felt like that was doomed. I was talking to people who were hunting the animals and they were trying to protect them because they wanted to hunt them, therefore they wanted them still to be there, which is kind of counterintuitive for many environmentalists, but you know, they were the best defenders of the caribou because they ate them.

But it felt doomed, and yet 20 years later I checked out the numbers and the population of that herd has doubled and tripled. So stuff does happen and I suppose my surprise was how much good change I found when I looked into it further. Maybe that's me being better at looking for good news stories. I've written quite a lot of "bad news" books over the years and done a lot of "bad news" journalism over the years, so I certainly don't discount that. But if you step back and you think, well did good stuff happen? Well, yeah, sometimes it did.

The bison herds are coming back on the plains of parts of North America, if you go to Montana. The ranches are disappearing and big areas are being set aside for bison, and I've been seeing how farmland in parts of southern and eastern Europe has been abandoned over the years. It's not necessarily good news that we're abandoning farmland, but again, the way that nature comes back and woodlands are growing, there are more forests in Europe than there have been for probably centuries.

There's a lot of bad stuff to say. But it does seem to me that we have to not just cling onto, but embrace good stuff and try [to] take it forward.

Something I really hadn't thought about till I went back was what were the big issues in the 1980s, 1970s when I started out. Well, all our industrial rivers in Britain were filthy. Now our industrial rivers are relatively clean. It's our agricultural rivers that are filthy, so, I mean, there's been a big change there.

Nobody has to talk much about the ozone layer now. That was the number one issue in the mid 1980s, and the absolutely terrifying prospect if we hadn't fixed that. But it's been fixed.

We banned the chemicals that were doing it.

Remember acid rain, lead in petrol. They were hot topics, headline news, part of the rise of the environmental agenda in the 1980s — and they're the ones that we don't have to talk about anymore.

Now we're talking about climate change. I think there are other things coming up. I think the issue of nitrogen pollution is a fast growing one, and we need technical solutions to that.

The green revolution of crops, the high-yielding crops, which got us out of a cycle of ever worsening hunger and famines in the mid 20 century. That was a solution which created new problems. Those crops grew very well, but they required large amounts of inputs, including water, and water is now a growing issue — finding enough irrigation water, but also fertilizer and other agrichemicals. We're now reaping some of the bad effects of that, and we need to solve that. Scientists I know are working on, if you like, high-yielding crops that don't require so much fertilizer and don't require so much water.

It's doable because as I think I said at the start, we do a lot of things really very badly, but that does give us a lot of scope to do things a lot better, so let's get on with it.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

Gun violence is a uniquely American epidemic, according to Dr. Selwyn Rogers Jr., the founding director of the University of Chicago Medicine Trauma Center.

Rogers helped found the trauma center in 2018 on Chicago's South Side, which had lacked a local adult trauma center since 1991. For nearly 30 years, people injured on the South Side had to endure long ambulance rides to access care elsewhere in the city, and lives were lost as a result.

Since founding the new trauma center, Rogers has cared for many victims of gun violence. In a new book — "Healing the Gun Violence Epidemic: Ending Violence, Rebuilding Communities, and a Trauma Surgeon's Vision for Restoring Hope" (North Atlantic Books, 2026) — he tells their stories, along with those of advocates and organizations working to confront the underlying factors that drive gun violence in the first place. The book unpacks how we got here, and what we must do next, drawing on Rogers' experience as a witness to gun violence's toll.

Live Science spoke to Rogers about his work, new book and vision for how Americans should tackle this epidemic.

Nicoletta Lanese: In the book, you trace this trajectory of how we arrived here and what the future could look like, when it seems that strong gun legislation is unlikely. To put it plainly, what gives you hope for the future as a person who sees the impacts of gun violence daily?

Dr. Selwyn Rogers Jr.: I'll start off by saying, I'm pathologically optimistic. Otherwise I couldn't do what I do as a trauma surgeon, where I see some of the worst things.

What makes me hopeful, despite the current political headwinds, are people. When I see a mother who is grieving her son, who just died from gun violence, who says to me, "I have to keep going for my other kids." That gives me hope. When I see someone who acknowledges that they used to hurt others with a firearm, who now is passionate about prevention of other people getting hurt. That brings me hope. When I see the bugged out eyes of a five-year-old Black boy looking at me in my white coat, going, "Are you a doctor?" I say, yes, I am. That brings me hope.

There are all of these moments of human connection. If we just look for them, they're all around us. That brings me hope every time.

NL: The book draws on your experience as a trauma surgeon and also highlights societal factors driving gun violence. When did you begin thinking about treatment that goes beyond the operating room?

SR: I trained in Boston at the time of the crack epidemic in the early 1990s, and Boston, like many cities in the United States, had a fair bit of penetrating trauma. (We separate trauma into "blunt" and "penetrating": "blunt" meaning events where there's no penetration of the skin by a missile or a projectile, and "penetrating" where there is some projectile that violates the skin and causes internal damage.)

During that time, I was particularly struck that those who suffered penetrating trauma disproportionately look like me. I happen to be African-American, they happened to be mostly African-American or Hispanic. They happened to be mostly male. Something about that connected with me as I wanted to be part of helping to solve that problem over the course of my career.

That brought me to Vanderbilt and Meharry Medical College in Nashville, which is where I took my first job. I earned a Master's in Public Health at Vanderbilt School of Medicine, and as part of that experience, I had to do a practicum that involved real-life work trying to understand healthcare outcome differences across a two-mile difference in space: I was at Vanderbilt, a traditional academic medical center, and Meharry Medical College's county hospital, Nashville General Hospital.

Two people could have the same exact diagnosis and have very disparate outcomes, and trying to understand those differences and how you can make a difference in that space was very informative.

NL: How do you think about those social drivers of health in relation to trauma surgery?

SR: When I was in training early on, as well as when I was a junior faculty, it was really striking to me that there were some patients who would come back again and again after traumatic injury. Thinking about how we treat other conditions that are not trauma — for example, heart disease — if I had a heart attack, blockage of my coronary blood vessels supplying my heart, I would today get a stent and get antithrombotic, antiplatelet therapy to reopen my heart. But if at the same time it was discovered that I had high cholesterol, I was overweight, I had a sedentary lifestyle, I smoked, those risk factors would also be addressed as part of my holistic recovery.

For trauma, we don't treat it that way; for the most part, we treat it as an event. Something happened, and we will take care of you.

But we don't look at all the other factors that put you at risk in the first place. And because we often don't do that, when people leave the hospital, the four walls of the emergency department or the trauma center, their risk factors haven't changed. Why would we think that they're not going to be re-injured again? So bringing that framing has been a very fundamental part of my both professional journey and my academic journey.

NL: And those paired interests eventually brought you to your role in Chicago?

SR: In many ways, I've been preparing my entire career to be in Chicago. My current role combines both my technical interest in helping people using my skills and training as a surgeon, but also the social drivers of health and healthcare disparities.

All of those things culminated in a knock on the door where the chair of the Department of Surgery at University of Chicago, said, "Hey, we have an opportunity to open a brand-new adult trauma center on the South Side of Chicago." Before that call in 2016, I did not know that there was no adult trauma center on the South Side of Chicago since 1991.

I've been here nine years now, and I love the city of Chicago. I love what I do; I love the patients I take care of; I love the community. I can't imagine doing anything else.

NL: Can you clarify what services a trauma center offers, as opposed to an emergency room?

SR: The distinction is that the emergency room, emergency ward, emergency department is a place. It's a place where people who are the most severely ill go to seek care. Now, in our healthcare system, people also seek care in the emergency department because they don't know where else to go. They may not have a primary care doctor, they may not have health insurance, so the ED becomes a place where they go.

A trauma center is not that. A trauma center is a system of care incorporating operating rooms, interventional radiology, social workers, anesthesiologists, trauma surgeons, orthopedic — basically a whole team of people that surround the individual and their injuries and try to restore them to health.

For traumatically injured patients, time is critical and minutes mean life or loss of function. Let's say you fell off your bicycle and you lacerated, or cut, your brachial artery, the artery that supplies your arm. If you don't go to a trauma center within a short period of time — minutes, maybe an hour max — you will likely die from that relatively straightforward injury.

The two things that trauma centers are very good at is stopping bleeding that will lead to death, and controlling complications of trauma. Those require a coordinated set of team members to do all those things in a short period of time.

In 1991, when there was no adult trauma center on the South Side, people who were injured on the South Side of Chicago would go to other adult trauma centers throughout the city. Chicago, as you know, is a pretty big city. You can drive for an hour and still be in Chicago. It's hard for me to calculate the number of lives lost [because of the time it took to reach a trauma center].

That's exactly what happened to a kid by the name of Damien Turner. He was an 18-year-old community activist advocating for rent control and other social issues on the South Side, and unfortunately, he was shot on August 15, 2010, literally four blocks from the University of Chicago. He was transported to Northwestern, where he arrived dead. His mother said that, "If the South Side had an adult trauma center, my son would still be alive."

You can debate whether or not that may be true, but it's hard to debate the reality that time matters if you're shot and actively bleeding to death. Because Damien Turner led a youth group called Fearless Leading by the Youth, in his honor, that organization mobilized around a simple slogan: Trauma center now.

NL: What do you think people often get wrong about gun violence in Chicago?

SR: Chicago has an outsized influence in this country, for better or for worse, right? It's in the middle of the Midwest. It has very high visibility as the third largest city. We've had mayors and governors and presidential candidates and presidents of the United States. All those things have put a lot of spotlight on Chicago.

With this framing that Chicago has all this violence, this is all a Democratic city problem — urban blight became synonymous with Chicago, which is far from the truth. One of the things that made me write the book is to dispel those myths. But also to bring the stories to change the narrative that this problem of gun violence in America is not unsolvable, it's not intractable.

If we bring a public health lens, we can solve this problem, just like we've solved so many others.

NL: What would it mean to bring a public health lens?

SR: Going back to 2005, when I was in training in Boston, I was very struck by people who came back over and over again, injured. So we developed a violence recovery program that was hospital-based. The number of these programs have grown over the past 20 years to basically embed people with lived experiences — some of whom have been shot themselves, some of whom have been justice-involved — as credible messengers to help connect people with services, provide psychological support, and change the arc or trajectory of people's lives.

That's what I would call secondary prevention. Something has already happened; how can we lower the risk? It's no different than someone who has an opiate addiction, and we make sure that they have access to naloxone so that they don't overdose and die. That's a public health risk mitigation strategy. Having a team of credible, trusted messengers to help transition that person from injured to recovered is something that every hospital should invest in.

Ideally, we would also invest in programs to prevent people from being injured in the first place. Those are harder because they're not constrained within the four walls of an emergency department or the many, many walls of a health system. They're, if you will, societal.

I think that there is an important opportunity for surgeons in particular, plus emergency medicine, physicians, nurses, and other healthcare providers, to bring voice to the voiceless. Oftentimes, people who are injured who come into our emergency departments, they don't have the agency that a physician or nurse or other healthcare provider has. How can we bring their voice to the forefront, often realizing that people who are the closest to the problem can often be the source of some of those solutions?

Our opportunity for primary prevention that I see is that we could approach gun violence not as a criminal problem, but as a public health one, for which we need to determine risk factors, protective factors, mitigation factors to lower people's risk.

NL: What do secondary prevention programs look like for the patients?

SR: There are probably 80 or so hospital-based violence intervention programs across the country with a blueprint that's been coordinated by a nonprofit called the Health Alliance for Violence Intervention. It hires individuals who are not necessarily social workers or pastoral care (though they can be), but often people with lived experience from the community that can relate to and can connect with the person because they've either been in the situation themselves, or they're from the neighborhood, from the community.

That's the first thing, to create that trusted relationship. The next thing that happens is you're getting out of the hospital. What's your life look like afterwards? If you were on the margin and living paycheck to paycheck, and now you're not working, now you can't pay your rent. Where's the next meal gonna come from?

Turns out there's a whole host of community-based organizations that are doing great secondary prevention work. Our violence recovery team can be the connector.

It's not like we're creating new services; there is the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, there is the Victims of Crime Act, which is a fund, but people don't know about it and don't know how to access it. A violence recovery team serves as a connective tissue or bridge to those services to get people access to things that they need to keep on progressing and recovering.

There are also a number of more established secondary prevention efforts. Oftentimes, street outreach organizations like Institute for Nonviolence Chicago have credibility to interrupt those cycles of violence. And there are others, like Cure Violence, that take people with lived experience, who are justice-involved, have spent time in prison or jail, and want to do something positive.

Those people are incredibly strong proponents; they don't want their son, their brother to be injured like they were injured. Those people can be important interrupters to the cycle of violence. They know many of the people in the community that are involved, and sometimes, it's literally a conversation to prevent a retaliatory shooting.

With that framing, you take folks who have been injured, shot themselves or [who have] shot others, and you wrap around a set of services to take them from the illegal economy into the legal economy. That might involve trauma-informed care, cognitive behavioral therapy, and skills development. I think those are all things that have evolved very intentionally in the city of Chicago over the past decade.

NL: We're currently seeing social support being weakened at the federal level. Do you see that as a place for cities to step up in new ways?

SR: In Chicago, I'll give a specific example for the community violence intervention ecosystem. The civic business community have put their money where their mouth is. They've put in $100 million over the past several years; that's new funding that wasn't there before.

Holistically, no matter what's going on at the federal, state, municipal, local level, at the end of the day, it is about the human connection, right? It's about what we do for the person next to us. It's what we do for our neighbor. If your neighbor is sick and shut in, do we actually show up for our neighbor and say, "Hey, can I bring you a cup of soup?" How much does that really cost?

You don't need the federal government to do that.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

Fifty years after Southern California's Salton Sea formed due to an engineering mishap in 1905, the giant salt lake became a booming vacation destination. Nicknamed the "miracle in the desert," the lake offered watersports and boating, while its shores were lined with yacht clubs, vacation homes, shops and nightclubs.

However, by the 1970s, the Salton Sea had begun shrinking due to high evaporation rates and flow reductions in the Colorado River, which had fed the lake. The lake's retreat exposed muddy sediments imbued with pesticides and other agricultural chemicals from large cotton, alfalfa and vegetable farms in the Imperial and Coachella valleys.

Today, the Salton Sea is a ghost of its former self, but the lake looms larger in the lives of local residents than ever before. Its shrinking shoreline releases toxic particles so tiny that they can penetrate deep into human lungs and enter the bloodstream. Exposure to these particles can raise the risk of a range of respiratory and cardiovascular conditions, including asthma, impaired lung function and heart attacks.

The communities most affected by this pollution are low-income, racial and ethnic minorities that, for socioeconomic reasons, cannot move away or adequately protect themselves.

A study published July 1 in the journal BMC Environmental Science reveals just how bad living conditions are for some communities near the Salton Sea. The authors examined air quality and respiratory health in Latinx and Indigenous Mexican families in the Eastern Coachella Valley, finding that families must change their daily routines to protect themselves from harmful dust events.

To find out more, we spoke with study co-author Ann Cheney, a professor of social medicine, population and public health at the University of California, Riverside School of Medicine. Cheney, who oversees a free clinic for underserved minority communities in the Eastern Coachella Valley, described the daily struggles of families living near the Salton Sea and some of the measures that are needed to improve their quality of life.

Sascha Pare: The Salton Sea has shrunk by 65 square miles (168 square kilometers) and dropped by 14.6 feet (4.5 meters) over the past few decades. Why is that, and how does it affect local residents?

Ann Cheney: The Salton Sea occupies an ancient lake bed that, over the millennia, has been filled, and then dried up again. In the early 1900s, because of an engineering mistake, part of that lake bed filled, and it created the Salton Sea. [Editor's note: The sea formed when Colorado River floodwater breached an irrigation canal that was under construction in the Imperial Valley.]

Then, over decades, there were changes in the composition of the sea because the main source of water was agricultural runoff. The sea is located in the inland southern Californian desert region. In the 1940s and 1950s, there was a boom in agribusiness. This remade the landscape, and all of those chemicals and pesticides from the agricultural land seeped into the lake bed.

With [water management] decision-making around the Colorado River waters, that then meant that another source of water, which had been the Colorado River, ceased to enter into the Salton Sea. 2018 was the last time that water from the Colorado River touched the Salton Sea.

Because there is the primary source of agricultural runoff going into the sea and no new fresh water coming in — and with climate change [boosting evaporation] — it's created this environment in which you have a drying sea. Over decades, there have been chemicals and heavy metals seeping into the playa [dry lake bed], and now it's exposed. It's the desert, so there's a lot of dust storms, and the winds take the exposed playa and bring it into the air, which is then breathed by the local residents.

For me, what's most concerning is that the local residents who are most affected by the poor air quality are Latinx and Indigenous Mexicans, many of whom are undocumented and have very little political voice.

SP: You asked caregivers of children with asthma and other respiratory conditions to document their experiences of living near the Salton Sea. What did those submissions reveal?

AC: When I first started doing this work, I thought about it as solely the Salton Sea [affecting people]. But it's the environment in which the Salton Sea is one contributor to poor air quality [that impacts local residents].

The caregivers perceive the Salton Sea as being a contributor to the poor respiratory health of their children. But also, this area has many disenfranchised communities that are interspersed on tribal lands, and there are different rules on these tribal lands. There is a lot of dumping and a lot of burning of trash. What we heard from caregivers is that it's not just the exposure to the toxic dust, but also the fires [that are causing issues].

In that article that we published [July 1 in BMC Environmental Science], there was an incident in which there was a fire — I think it was related to tire burning — in very close proximity to one of the apartments that one of the caregivers and her family were living in. These things happen commonly. So, from the perspective of the caregivers, there are multiple different factors that contribute to their children's poor respiratory health.

SP: Can you take me through a day in the life of one of these caregivers, based on the evidence you gathered?

AC: It could be a beautiful day. The caregiver walks outside. It's sunny; everything's beautiful. In my opinion, this environment is very beautiful. Maybe, later on in the day, there is a pickup of wind, and there's dust. Let's say the caregiver is a mother with a child who has asthma who's at school. The children are outside on the playground. Her child is going to be highly affected by the dust that's being picked up by the wind. What's going to happen is, the school will bring the child inside, and if the child doesn't have too severe of a respiratory distress, the child could stay at school. Otherwise, the caregiver will get called and have to come to school and pick up their child.

Most folks in that region are farm laborers. They're not owners of farms; they are the ones who are working the land for the owners. Many individuals who are living in very impoverished conditions — for instance, the Purépecha community, which is the Indigenous community we worked with that's from Michoacán in Mexico — are pickers. They are in the lowest-social-ranking jobs within farm labor, and, in part, that's because they may be monolingual Purépecha. That means they don't speak Spanish or English, and that limits the type of employment they can have.

In a situation where you have this very precarious employment, if your child needs to be taken out of school and you are the caregiver, then you risk losing your job. That's the type of dynamic that's at play among many of the families that we work with.

SP: What are the long-term consequences of living day after day in these conditions?

AC: It's a really poor quality of life for children, especially. There's a picture that a caregiver took of her child that I think exemplifies so well the experience of children and their quality of life. The child is just lying on the floor in their home. The photo illustrates the child's lethargy and the boredom and the fact that caregivers often choose to have their children stay inside, because they can better control the indoor air quality. They can't necessarily control what's going to happen outside, but they can control indoor air quality.

The problem is, if the family doesn't have the resources to have an air filter to clean and purify the air, for instance, then what we've noticed in our research is that there can still be very poor indoor air quality, particularly when there's more extreme weather events like fires or dust storms.

With the research, I anticipated very poor quality of life for children. But what I understood less was that it also means poor quality of life for their families, and particularly for mothers, who are often the primary caregivers. It really affects their mental health and well-being.

SP: Currently, are there any measures in place to protect these families?

AC: There has been Assembly Bill 617, which was a measure to engage members of the communities that are most affected by the Salton Sea environment in a process of mitigating the effects of the sea. From that, there have been a lot of community meetings. Years ago, I started to participate as one of the advisory board members. It became a bit frustrating — and I think this illustrates the history of frustration in this region — because government entities come in with resources and money. But it's very top-down, and often the community gets upset and frustrated because they don't see these agencies making changes in the community. There's a lot of talk and very little action.

There are also monies that have been dedicated to Salton Sea restoration, and there's been an ongoing conversation about a 10-year plan to mitigate the effects of the drying of the sea. But the focus has been primarily on wildlife, not human health. Only more recently have there been conversations about human health and the public health implications.

For individuals who have a specific diagnosis of asthma, they may qualify for retrofitting. That means they will receive money through their health insurance to be able to invest in improving their home. That might mean taking out carpet [which can capture dust], or maybe fortifying windows or doors ‪—‬ things like that. But it's a really small amount of money. It can help to a certain degree, but I think in this community, in particular, they may not always know how to navigate the healthcare system to get access to that type of resource. In addition, the most vulnerable people in this community don't have access to health insurance.

SP: What more could be done to improve people's quality of life in this community?

AC: We installed air-quality monitors in people's homes, and we spent a lot of time collaborating with communities in this region. Some live in apartment complexes; some live in single-family homes. But the majority live in mobile home parks, in which they're living in very old, dilapidated trailers. The land is dirt. It's an area that is very impoverished.

So, when I think about these communities, in particular, they can't protect themselves from the external environment. In terms of policies, [I wonder] how we can put money toward building housing that is not trailers and can really protect people from the dust. Right now, the wind is bringing dust into the homes. We need to find ways to actually keep the homes sealed.

SP: The Salton Sea is a hotspot for lithium, and although there are currently no active lithium mines in the region, policymakers and private companies are investigating the sea's potential to host one. How might lithium mining affect the families you worked with?

AC: That conversation's been going on for several years now. At the moment, it's not as much a community concern, because there's been very little movement [to open mines]. There was a lot of action and movement about three or four years ago. But it's been a few years since they've been testing the prototype, and it doesn't seem like it's gone to scale, where they would have been able to commercialize it.

Initially, the community was quite upset, because it's just another example of the lands being exploited and other people benefiting. Typically, the beneficiaries are individuals who are not originally from the community and who have professional degrees. They get the resources, and they get to make decisions about the resources. Then, the conversation was, "Well, but if we have this type of business coming in, then it can create jobs." But we know that it creates jobs for individuals who have professional degrees, or they'll have to get some type of training; they're not jobs for farmworkers or individuals who are undocumented.

It takes a lot of water to do lithium mining, so that also has implications for the continuation of the shrinking of the Salton Sea.

SP: Other lakes around the U.S., including Utah's Great Salt Lake, are shrinking and exposing toxic sediments that are then blown into residential areas. Do those drying lakes have similar effects on local communities?

AC: There is a film director [Abby Ellis from around the Great Salt Lake] who, I think two years ago, came to the Eastern Coachella Valley and met with myself and my team members. She said, "I want to get a sense of what's going on here, because this is essentially where we are going to be 10 or 15 years from now."

I had the opportunity to very briefly chat with her, but also view the trailer for her documentary. One of the distinctions between the communities surrounding the Great Salt Lake and the Salton Sea is the color of the skin of those living around these bodies of water. In Utah, it seems to be more so individuals who maybe are middle class, or have a certain access to resources — people who can have a political voice and organize and say, "We don't want this to happen." It will be interesting to see if there can be more change in communities where there are more affluent people living near these bodies of water.

This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

The skeleton of a wolf or bat you admire at the natural history museum may look pristine, but it wasn't always that way ‪—‬ there's a good chance flesh-eating beetles helped prepare those bones for display. For decades, many museums have relied on colonies of dermestid beetles to strip soft tissue, like skin and muscles, from skeletons. Unlike the harsh chemicals that would otherwise be used for bone preparation, these beetles can be gentler and clean hard-to-reach areas. But these colonies are a hassle to keep up, and escaped beetles can even be dangerous for valuable museum specimens that don't need their skin removed. Now, researchers may have found an even better biological cleanup crew.

In a new study published July 1 in the journal PLOS One, scientists found that superworms (Zophobas morio) — large beetle larvae commonly sold as pet food — can clean skeletons just as effectively while offering practical advantages. The larvae removed soft tissue from animals ranging from tiny bats to a 9-pound (4.2 kilograms) wolf without damaging even the most delicate bones.

Two of the paper's authors, Niloofar Alaei Kakhki, a postdoctoral researcher at the State Museum of Natural History Stuttgart in Germany, and Morteza Monfared, a researcher at the Ferdowsi University of Mashhad in Iran, answered our questions via email about what makes superworms unique and how they could be used in laboratories and museums.

Kenna Hughes-Castleberry: Why are these critters called "superworms?" What makes them different from other beetle larvae?

Niloofar Alaei Kakhki and Morteza Monfared: Compared with the larvae of many other beetles, Zophobas morio larvae are much larger, which is one of the reasons they are so effective at removing soft tissue from bones.

What makes them truly unique, however, is their life cycle. Most beetle larvae pupate automatically once they reach the appropriate size. In contrast, superworms require an additional trigger: They must be isolated individually before they will pupate and develop into adult beetles. As long as they remain together in crowded conditions, they stay in the larval stage for several months.

This characteristic provides a major advantage for skeleton preparation. Because the larvae remain larvae for an extended period, they can be used repeatedly for cleaning specimens without rapidly developing into adult beetles. After each cleaning cycle, they can simply be fed a vegetable-based diet, allowed to recover, and then used again.

This also makes them safer than beetles commonly used for skeleton preparation, such as Dermestes. Adult dermestid beetles can reproduce, and females may lay eggs on ‪—‬ or even inside ‪—‬ skeletal specimens. If eggs or larvae are accidentally introduced into museum collections, they can become a serious pest and damage valuable specimens. Since superworms do not develop into adults unless they are intentionally isolated, this risk is greatly reduced, making the method safer for museum collections.

KHC: How did you figure out that the worms could clean the skeletons? Was that surprising?

NAK and MM: Several years ago, we started keeping a colony of Zophobas morio larvae (superworm) as live food for birds. As bird-watchers, we were often asked to help care for injured wild birds, so maintaining our own colony was more practical than purchasing larvae repeatedly. We fed the larvae mainly with vegetable scraps, such as cucumber, potato and banana peels.

One day, we ran out of vegetable waste. After lunch, we placed a leftover chicken bone with a small amount of meat still attached into the colony. To our surprise, the larvae gathered around it almost immediately and removed the remaining tissue with remarkable speed. Watching hundreds of larvae work together so efficiently was fascinating, and it immediately made us wonder whether they could be useful for something beyond animal feed.

At the same time, we were volunteering at the Zoology Museum of Ferdowsi University (ZMFUM), where preparing skeletal specimens was one of our regular responsibilities. We had experience with conventional preparation methods, including manual cleaning, boiling and burial. Although effective, these methods were often time-consuming and carried the risk of damaging delicate bones or losing small skeletal elements.

After observing how efficiently the larvae cleaned the chicken bone, we decided to test whether they could also prepare skeletal specimens. The first trials were remarkably successful. Within only a few hours, the larvae removed the soft tissues while leaving even delicate bones intact. Seeing the quality of the cleaned specimens was genuinely surprising and convinced us that this approach had real potential.

From that point on, whenever suitable animal specimens became available, we continued testing the method under different conditions, gradually refining it and optimizing the protocol. Over the following years, these observations evolved into the standardized, efficient and safe skeleton preparation method presented in our study. Yes, we were genuinely surprised. We already knew that superworms could consume a wide variety of organic materials, but we did not expect them to clean skeletons so quickly, so thoroughly, and with so little damage to even the most delicate bones.

KHC: How do these superworms compare to other skeleton-cleaning products, like chemical cleaners? Are the worms better or worse at this task?

NAK and MM: Based on our experience, superworms offer several important advantages over existing skeleton preparation methods.

Compared with dermestid beetles, one of the biggest advantages is colony management. Because superworms only pupate when they are isolated individually, their life cycle can be controlled much more easily. As long as they are kept together, they remain as larvae and continue cleaning specimens. This greatly reduces the risk of accidentally introducing adult beetles or their eggs into museum collections, which is a major concern when working with dermestid beetles.

Compared with traditional methods such as boiling, manual cleaning or burial, the larvae also save a great deal of time and effort. Manual cleaning, especially for delicate specimens, can take many hours and always carries the risk of breaking or losing small bones. In contrast, the larvae can remove soft tissues efficiently while preserving even fragile skeletal elements.

Every preparation method has its own strengths and limitations, and the best choice depends on the type of specimen and the goals of the researcher. However, based on our experience using a wide range of preparation techniques, we believe that superworms provide an efficient, safe and practical alternative for many museum and research applications.

Rather than replacing every existing method, we see this technique as a valuable new tool that museums, universities and research laboratories can adopt and adapt according to their own needs.

KHC: On average, how much does it cost to use the worms?

NAK and MM: It is difficult to estimate an average cost because prices vary considerably between countries and suppliers. Rather than the initial purchase price, the long-term maintenance cost is what makes this method attractive.

A colony can be established from a relatively small number of superworms. Once the larvae reach the appropriate stage, a portion of them can be isolated to pupate and develop into adult beetles. These adults reproduce and generate new larvae, allowing the colony to become self-sustaining over time.

The equipment required is also quite simple. The colony can be maintained in plastic or glass containers with wheat bran as the bedding, at approximately 25 degrees Celsius [77 degrees Fahrenheit]. Between skeleton preparation cycles, the larvae can be fed inexpensive vegetable scraps, allowing them to recover before being used again. Larvae can remain in the larval stage for several months, meaning the same colony can be used repeatedly.

Another advantage is that the colony size can easily be adjusted to meet the needs of different users. A museum or laboratory processing a large number of specimens can maintain a larger colony, while smaller collections can operate with far fewer larvae.

Overall, we find the method is relatively inexpensive to establish and maintain, especially when compared with the time, labor and specialized facilities often required for traditional skeleton preparation methods.

KHC: Do you envision museums and laboratories implementing these superworm cleaners in the future? Why or why not? Is the cost worth it?

NAK and MM: We believe this method has the potential to be adopted by many museums, universities and research laboratories, particularly those that regularly prepare skeletal specimens.

One of its greatest advantages is that it combines efficiency, safety and relatively low operating costs. Compared with some traditional approaches, it requires only basic equipment and does not rely on expensive chemicals or specialized enzymatic treatments. This makes it especially attractive for smaller museums and institutions with limited resources.

We also see advantages in terms of colony management. Because the life cycle of superworms can be controlled, the risk of introducing damaging museum pests is much lower than with some other biological cleaning methods. At the same time, the larvae can be reused repeatedly over several months, making the system practical for long-term use.

Ultimately, whether this method is worthwhile depends on the needs of each institution. However, based on our experience, we believe it offers an excellent balance between cost, efficiency, safety and specimen quality. Perhaps one of the most rewarding aspects of this approach is that it works with a natural biological process rather than against it. Instead of relying on harsh treatments, the soft tissues become a food source that supports the growth of another organism, creating a sustainable cycle while producing clean skeletal specimens. We believe this is one of the most appealing aspects of the method.

KHC: Are there any fun stories from your research you can share?

NAK and MM: We have collected quite a few memorable stories over the years!

One of the funniest happened while we were experimenting with burial as a skeleton preparation method. We buried the head of a Persian onager (Equus hemionus) on the university campus. Unfortunately, the specimen had already begun to decompose and had a very strong smell. Even after it was buried, we knew exactly where it was because that part of the campus still smelled terrible. We avoided walking past it whenever possible, but anyone who happened to pass by immediately noticed the odor. At one point, campus security even came over to ask what we were doing, probably wondering why we were digging a hole and burying something on university grounds!

Another memorable story involved our superworms colony itself. In the early days, we kept the larvae in our office at the Zoology Museum (ZMFUM). Almost everyone who entered the room was startled by the sight of thousands of large larvae constantly moving around in their containers. Many people kept their distance at first. But over time, as we explained their biology and demonstrated how useful they were for our research, people's reactions changed. Some visitors even became genuinely interested in the colony, and a few who were initially afraid eventually asked to hold the larvae themselves.

Those moments reminded us that science is not only about experiments and data; it can also change the way people think about animals that are often misunderstood.

KHC: If there's one thing you want our readers to take away from your work, what would it be?

NAK and MM: If there is one message we hope readers take away from our work, it is that nature often has far more to offer than we initially realize.

Many organisms are known for a single, well-established application. Zophobas morio, for example, is widely recognized as animal feed and, more recently, for its ability to consume certain plastics. Our work shows that the same species can also provide an entirely different and unexpected solution to a practical problem in museum science.

This reminds us that the first known application of an organism is not necessarily its most valuable one. Sometimes, its second or even third application can have an even greater impact. Discovering those possibilities begins with curiosity, careful observation and a willingness to ask new questions.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Extreme coastal flooding events are occurring far more frequently in our warming world than ever before, threatening countless communities that will only become more vulnerable as climate change intensifies.

A recent study found that once-in-a-century flooding events now strike on our planet about once a decade. The study, published June 10 in the journal Nature Climate Change, also found that human-driven climate change has quadrupled the frequency of coastal sea level extremes since 1900.

The findings were released alongside another study by a separate team, published in the journal Science Advances, that found human-caused sea level rise was clearly measurable at 97% of sites sampled around the world, and was responsible for around 58% of the observed daily extreme water level exceedances between 2000 and 2018. In other words, human activities are the primary drivers behind sea level extremes — which include storm surges, high tides and rising sea level anomalies.

As the ocean's potential to devastate coastal communities surges, Live Science spoke with Sönke Dangendorf, lead author of the Nature Climate Change study, to learn more about what's to come. Here's what he had to say.

Patrick Pester: How do you separate human-driven sea level rise from natural forces?

Sönke Dangendorf: The absolute basis for doing these kinds of investigations is to work with observations, but observations are unfortunately sparse. We have a few more than 100 tide gauges [distributed worldwide] that offer long, century-scale records of sea level change since the early 20th century. We see that sea levels are changing at those locations, but we cannot tell a whole lot about what is happening elsewhere. So, what we can do is use the same climate models that we use to produce future projections of sea level change.

If you compare observations with the models, then the models need to be able to reproduce what the observations have shown. That was the first step we did, and indeed we proved in this study that the climate models are capable of reproducing observed climate. The nice thing with climate models then is that if you are able to reproduce what has been observed, you can start doing experiments. For instance, you can keep greenhouse gases constant in the modeling and then assess the influence of natural climate variability on the changes that we have observed. That's what we did in the study.

We found that we have seen already a 12-fold increase on average globally in what used to be a once-in-100-year event in 1900. And when we do these forcing experiments, we have also seen that anthropogenic forcing [human-driven change], in particular since the 1970s, has become the dominant force.

PP: What does this mean for coastal communities around the world?

SD: A couple of centimeters of sea level rise doesn't sound like a whole lot in theory, but if you live along the coast, it hits you much harder than you might think. Just an example: I used to live along the U.S. East Coast in Norfolk, Virginia. The community was built along the water, and they used to be fine in the 1950s and 1960s; they wouldn't see flooding at all, or maybe just once every five or six years. But due to sea level rise, what happens now is that high tide leads to flooding. You see flooded streets, and that affects your commute, so people increasingly cannot make it to work.

It affects your daily life suddenly. And then it makes it very hard for you and your coastal community because you have increasing insurance costs — the accumulated costs of these events can easily be as much as a major hurricane making landfall. So, this is a daily experience that many people already have, and it's a direct impact of sea level rise.

With respect to what we assessed in these more extreme events, people may absorb a once-in-a-100-year event once in their lifetime. They may experience something like a Storm Sandy, and they may be able to recover from that, but if you think about recovering from that basically every eight years — the frequency of these events nowadays compared to 1900 — that's of course way more difficult and not feasible for many people.

PP: What can we do?

SD: We can adapt. The silver lining here is that we have shown humans are the dominant forcing factor behind these changes. That's the silver lining because it means if we react, we can do something about it.

The reaction to changes in climate is often delayed, so we have sea level rise that we are already committed to. For instance, if you look into projections, they all agree with respect to what happens until around 2060, independently of how much greenhouse gases are emitted. There's no way around that. We could stop emitting greenhouse gases today, and we would still experience it. So, we need to adapt to that sea level rise, but if we mitigate climate change, if we stop emitting greenhouse gases, then we can avoid dangerous sea level rise, and that's very important.

PP: What will the world look like in 2060 with the committed sea level rise?

SD: According to the last IPCC [Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change] report, what used to be a once-in-a-100-year event in the present day will occur annually at 19% to 31% of tide gauge locations by 2050. So, at about a quarter of the locations, you will experience these once-in-a-100-year events annually, and that is something that is just mind-blowing.

The changes are happening much quicker in low-latitude locations. The reason is that in the tropics you typically have a less variable climate. You don't have these massive swings all the time. For instance, in the North Sea, we have a storm season, and we have huge tide ranges. We are already adapted to pretty massive changes of multiple meters, so a couple of centimeters of sea level rise do not play out that hard, but in the tropics, where it's more calm, it makes a huge difference.

As an analogy, think about two hurdle runners. You have one hurdle runner that's compared to the tropics; he jumps very consistently but always below the hurdle, so he never makes it over. Then you have another hurdle runner that's the North Sea type of guy. His jumps are very variable. Sometimes he's very high and makes it over that hurdle, but very often he also jumps very low. Now think about lowering that hurdle, which is comparable to increasing sea levels. Suddenly, that hurdle runner who is very consistent makes it over all of the time, while the guy from the North Sea may jump over the hurdle a couple more times, but he also still has the very extreme lows. So, the constant jumper is way more sensitive to these changes.

Editor's note: This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

On April 6, the four crewmembers of NASA's Artemis II mission swooped around the far side of the moon in their Orion spacecraft, disappearing from Earth's sight and losing all contact with humanity for roughly 40 minutes.

At the same time, some 250,000 miles (400,000 kilometers) away, Chris White, the mission's lead communications officer, was nervously pacing the halls of NASA's Mission Control Center in Houston, waiting for the chance to do his job again.

"It was all nerves," White, the lead integrated communications officer (INCO) on Artemis II, told Live Science. In addition to maintaining communication with the Orion spacecraft (an impossible task while the moon blocked every signal), the INCO team also controlled its exterior cameras — a job White had previously done for the International Space Station (ISS).

The team knew for over a year what Orion's lunar flyby would entail, and which shots the cameras should capture. They had sent a checklist of nearly 300 commands to Orion that morning, telling the cameras exactly what to do after the spacecraft vanished behind the moon. All that remained was to wait.

After 40 minutes, bits of telemetry data started popping up on White's monitor as the Orion crew reemerged safely from behind the moon. Voice contact soon followed. But it would still take another day for Orion's flyby photos to traverse the space between the moon and Houston. When White finally opened the file the next morning, his body failed him.

"I opened a photo — the eclipse photo — and I couldn't breathe," White said. "I was like, 'There's no way that this turned out this well on the first try.'"

The INCO team's incredible Orion spacecraft photos have now been viewed by tens of millions of Earthlings. Live Science recently spoke with White to get the inside story of the images and the entire Artemis II mission as it was seen from NASA mission control.

Brandon Specktor: In a nutshell, what was your job on the Artemis II mission?

Chris White: During the mission, the INCO console manages all of the communication systems on the spacecraft, as the name kind of implies. We handle not just the video and the camera system but also the onboard audio system — which was the first flight for that — the system for radio communication and the optical communication system, which was a laser system on Artemis II. We also handle a couple of other minor systems.

BS: What was the vibe during liftoff?

CW: So, for liftoff, I was in the back, in a support room. The vibe was intense. Everybody was laser-focused on the task at hand. During simulations leading up to it, we had fake, simulated CGI views [of liftoff] to give us an idea of what we were going to see. I always thought, "Man, it's going to look so much cooler in real time." But then during liftoff, I looked up from my console screen zero times to look at the live video. So I didn't see a lot of that footage until the next day, when I had a chance to breathe.

The INCO team was basically flat-out busy for at least the first three flight days. For a lot of my team, it wasn't until after flight day three where things — and I'm going to use air quotes — loosely "calmed down." I don't think any of us truly relaxed until the vehicle was safely in the water.

BS: Let's talk about the lunar flyby. What was your experience watching along with the crew as they got closer and closer to the moon?

CW: It was incredible. I've seen the moon through the ISS cameras, and I'd watched the moon, over the course of the previous five flight days, slowly get larger and larger. But there was something logarithmic — almost like it just got really large very quickly on flight day six as we got close to the moon.

And the moon looked wrong, which sounds kind of crazy to say. We're so used to the way that the moon looks from our perspective here on the Earth, that when the vehicle was coming at it from an angle, you could see more of the backside of the moon. So you're in awe of it approaching and getting larger and realizing what's about to happen ‪—‬ but also my brain hurt trying to reconcile what I was seeing, because it didn't look correct. The shape and texture were different than what my brain expected.

BS: And the colors too, based on what the astronauts said. Did you notice anything unusual about the moon's coloration?

CW: It was hard to tell. The bandwidth limitations of being that far away from Earth made it hard to distinguish a lot of those finer details. But there was a moment where we looked at it and we were like, "I think we can tweak the exposure on this." It was a little too dark, and then we bumped it up a little bit. And all of a sudden, these muted grays became a little bit more brown. I was not expecting to be able to see that from our cameras.

You see it much more in some of the high-res photos that the crew took. But it was honestly shocking to see how much more color shows up even just a little bit as you get closer.

BS: As you were doing that flyby, did you have a strict checklist of shots you had to take?

CW: Yeah, absolutely. Flyby was a heavily choreographed event for the Orion cameras, as well as the crew and the science community. But we had started working on that plan well over one year earlier, and we knew exactly what shots we wanted and when we wanted them. The timing of all that shifts slightly, depending on exactly when you launch. So we had a framework in place, and then we just tweaked the timing in the 24 hours leading up to the events.

I think it was something like 290 total commands over the course of eight hours. We just scripted and time-tagged and put them on the vehicle, so it just clicked through them.

BS: How does that work during the eclipse phase, when you were out of contact?

CW: So we knew when Earthset ‪—‬ and, therefore, the start of the loss of signal (LOS) ‪—‬ would be and when Earthrise would be. And so we had the cameras flip into kind of a time-lapse mode at that point and then take a 30-second interval time lapse as the Earth got smaller and smaller and smaller behind the moon. All of that was scripted.

And then, behind the moon, during the LOS, it continued to take photos at a slower pace. I think it was like once every few minutes. We had all that on a timer, basically.

BS: How soon after the lunar flyby did you get to see the images?

CW: Luckily, we had a great optical comm pass that same night. So all those photos came down via laser to the Earth, and I saw them the next day. I didn't see them in the moment; I saw them the next day.

And I opened that photo — the eclipse photo — and I couldn't breathe. I was like, "There's no way that this turned out this well on the first try."

BS: Is that the photo that stands out most to you from the flyby?

CW: Yeah, it absolutely is. A lot of the photos you take in space, people are like, "Oh, where are the stars?" And it's because you have to expose the camera to the very bright, shiny spacecraft in front of you, and all the stars fade away into the blackness in the background.

But because the sun was behind the moon, you have the moon in the foreground in focus, the sun kind of bleeding out from behind it. The stars and the planets are all there. You can see Venus; you can see Saturn; you can see Mars. And then you have the glow of the spacecraft — it's not lit by the sun, but by the Earth — in the foreground. It was an incredible photo.

BS: What were you guys doing during that loss-of-signal phase? What was the vibe like then?

CW: I was pacing around the control center. The INCO team is responsible for keeping communication with the vehicle as much as we can, and there's not really much that we can do about that when you put a celestial body between us and the crew.

It's all nerves. It's all of the, "Hey, did we configure everything correctly? Are communications going to come back on the other side?" So just to distract myself for the 40 minutes that we were at LOS, I just kind of walked around the building and chatted with other people, just to try to keep myself distracted.

It wasn't until about three or four minutes after Earthrise that we started getting stable video, and then the crew called down. And that was really when I breathed a sigh of relief, once I heard voice coming down from the vehicle again.

BS: Do you feel different after this mission?

CW: People keep asking me that. I don't know that I've had quite enough time to fully unpack the mission. But I think it's slowly sinking in that we just sent four people around the moon, literally further away from Earth than ever. And I think, not only did we change them and the flight control team from that experience, but I think we changed a lot of people's perceptions of the moon, which is awesome.

BS: Do you know what your role for Artemis III is going to be?

CW: I definitely still plan to be on the INCO team for Artemis III. I will not be the lead for that mission. But I definitely still plan to be on console and hope to take some even more incredible photos during that mission.

BS: Any closing thoughts?

CW: I just want to stress what a team effort this was. The vehicle cameras had a script and a plan that involved not just the INCO team. But to point these cameras, I have to get the solar arrays swung forward in a specific direction, so I have to coordinate with the power guys. I have to sometimes ask the GNC [guidance, navigation and control] team to rotate the vehicle itself, which is entirely different from how we do things on ISS. There was our imagery team handling camera settings and proper exposure. There's the engineers who developed these systems.

This was not just me and the INCO team on console. It was truly a full flight control team effort to get these.

Editor's note: This interview has been condensed and edited lightly for clarity.

Are you a NASA nerd? See how well you score on our Artemis quiz to find out!

Most archaeologists spend time digging in the dirt or piecing together broken artifacts or bones in the lab, attempting to make sense of the past in a painstakingly slow process. But others use that information — and a little ingenuity — to re-create the sights, sounds, smells and tastes of ancient societies through a practice called experimental archaeology.

In his book "Dinner with King Tut: How Rogue Archaeologists Are Re-creating the Sights, Sounds, Smells, and Tastes of Lost Civilizations" (Little, Brown and Co., 2025), author Sam Kean delves into the overloaded sensory world of experimental archaeology practitioners. Along the way, he learns to knap a stone tool like early Homo sapiens did, create an intricate hairstyle that would make a Roman woman proud, tattoo someone using ancient tools, play an Aztec ball game, and bake the kind of sourdough loaf that King Tut once ate.

Kean spoke with Live Science about his book, which was a finalist for the 2026 PEN/E.O. Wilson Literary Science Writing Award and was named one of The New Yorker's best books of 2025.

Related: Read an excerpt from Kean's book, "Dinner with King Tut."

Kristina Killgrove: What intrigued you about experimental archaeology?

Sam Kean: There was sort of a conflict within me because, on the one hand, I really love the questions that archaeology brings up. There's some big, meaty questions about who we are as a species, how we spread across the Earth, how we changed as we spread across the Earth ‪—‬ these really important, big questions about human history. But whenever I would go to an actual archaeological site, it just seemed to me like the most boring work I could imagine. It's just people sitting around in the dirt with toothbrushes or dental picks or whatever, picking up potsherds, and it just seemed so tedious to me.

Experimental archaeology seemed like a lot more lively, sensory-rich field because archaeologists in this field are actually doing things. They're re-creating stone tools, making ancient foods. You can smell the past. So it was just a lot more exciting way for me to get into archaeology.

KK: Tell me about your research process for this book. Did you "embed" with archaeologists and participate in their experiments?

SK: Each chapter is set in a different time and place, so you're really immersed in a day in the life of that person. There was a lot of reading about traditional archaeology and what we've learned from that, because we have learned a lot from it. But then I would go talk to experimental archaeologists and go through the process of brain-tanning leather or getting on a ship that they would have sailed on, and I just experienced it in the way that they're doing their research and experienced it more like people would have in the past too.

KK: Did you have a favorite experiment that you learned about or a favorite archaeologist you embedded with?

SK: There's a guy out in Utah who built a trebuchet — a giant medieval catapult. It was about 30 or 40 feet [9 to 12 meters] tall, I think. And we just spent a lovely day flinging these giant garden stones around at this palisade that he had built, as a stand-in for a fort, essentially. And we just spent a day flinging these huge stones at this fort and watching it smash in and splinter the wood and try to destroy this little fort. Getting to pull the trigger on this catapult — it was just like this majestic dragon coming to life, almost, as it started to fling these balls. And it was like a whip cracking of the sling as it would fling the stone out. That was just a really lovely memory, partly because everything worked properly that day.

A lot of the book was actually me floundering around, failing to complete the projects or figuring out what I was doing wrong. And I think that was a good learning method. I did learn a lot by flailing around, probably more than I would have had I gotten things correct the first time immediately. But it was nice when things went right every once in a while. And the catapult was a good example of that.

KK: That sounds so cool! And in the excerpt that we are publishing on Live Science from your book "Dinner with King Tut," you talk to people who used ancient Egyptian mummification techniques on a real human body. What did you learn from talking to these people? And did you get to try mummifying a body yourself?

SK: Not a body, but I did do a little mummification myself. I didn't know this before I started writing the book, but the Egyptians mummified a lot of animals, a huge variety of animals, dozens of different types, and on a big, big scale. There's one grave site they found with something like 4 million bird mummies. So there have been a fair number of archaeologists in modern times who have tried to — and succeeded in — mummifying different animals, even though the Egyptians didn't write down a whole lot about the process. We don't know if it was lost to time or if it was just sort of a guild secret where they didn't write things down. So they would do this to learn about the mummification process with animals.

But, of course, the thing that really intrigues us about ancient Egypt are the human mummies. And everyone thought we couldn't actually make a human mummy until two guys did in the '90s. It was one Egyptologist [Bob Brier] and the guy who was in charge of the Maryland state anatomy board [Ronn Wade], who got to decide where cadavers went that had been donated to science. He decided this was a worthwhile project.

The donor remains anonymous, but he was a 76-year-old man from Baltimore who had died of a heart attack. They went all out to be authentic for this project. They went to Egypt to get the mineral natron that they would have used to mummify him. They had ancient tools made, and they went through all the steps that were known in mummification and turned this person into a mummy.

KK: Did these researchers learn more than what is in the historical records? What did they learn from doing this themselves?

SK: It was a controversial project. People said, when you donate your body to science, that's not a blank check to do whatever you want. Some people called it horrifying. And some people said that they didn't think it had any scientific value. I understand the ethical concerns, but I don't think it's true that we didn't learn anything.

One thing that sticks out in my mind that I was surprised about is how they used authentic tools. Archaeologists have found obsidian blades with mummies — those are volcanic glass — and they found copper tools associated with them. So, when these guys were trying to open the body up initially, it turned out that the copper blades they had were not good at all. They could not get through the skin and the muscle of the abdomen very well. The obsidian tools turned out to be much better at that task, which surprised me. I wouldn't have thought that the stone tools would have been better than the metal tools. That's something we wouldn't have learned had we not gone through the process.

Also, the iconic look of the mummy: It has retracted teeth and sparse hair and a forehead pulled very tight. Bob Brier, the Egyptologist involved, had seen a lot of mummies, and he always wanted to know, do they look like that because they've been sitting in Egypt, a dry environment, for 3,000 years, or is it the mummification process that gives them that look? And he said that even after about five weeks, when they took a peek at the body, they could tell it had that classic iconic mummy look. He said it looked exactly like Ramesses the Great to him. So we did learn things about the mummification process through this that we just wouldn't have known otherwise.

KK: That's amazing that this controversial experiment produced new knowledge. You mentioned you mummified something — tell me about it.

SK: I did mummify a fish for the book. That was kind of a fun process, and it was a surprisingly easy thing to do. You can rub the oils in, wrap them up, include little spells like they did back then. But the basic process is just using natron — which is baking soda and salt — and you just put the fish or whatever you want to mummify underneath this. Then it just does the work on its own.

KK: Then I guess the real question is, did you eat that fish that you mummified?

SK: No, but it's sitting on my shelf still as a little memento. I did accumulate quite a nice collection of artifacts and things – stone tools I made, I opened and ate an ostrich egg. I made tapa or kapa — which is a type of Polynesian bark cloth. So I did get to do and make and take home a lot of cool souvenirs from this.

KK: That's so fun! And your book is a little different from some other popular science books because you include these fictional narratives based in archaeological and historical fact. In the introduction, you call them a "form of time travel." Tell me a bit more about why you chose this unusual structure for the book and what you hope readers will get out of that.

SK: What I really value about experimental archaeology is that it's pretty immersive, especially the sensory aspects of it. You do get to feel — to some degree, at least — that you are there and that you are doing the things that people back then were doing. I thought that fiction would allow me to take that even one step further and really get in the minds and be in the world that those people lived in. So you get to wake up where they did, eat the foods that they did, and experience their society. Something like religion or their beliefs in the supernatural or spiritual beliefs are not going to be amenable to experimental archaeology, but you can do that in fiction. And so it allowed me to take it one step further, and it was just fun to try and fun to write as well.

KK: Is experimental archaeology going to be something you cover more in a future book?

SK: I think I could do it if I wanted to revisit it because there were other cultures that, for various reasons, I decided to not include. People are doing work in ancient Greece, but that didn't make it into the book. I do have one chapter in sub-Saharan Africa tens of thousands of years ago, but that was the Cradle of Humankind. I could certainly do other aspects of that. There's definitely fodder out there for another book, especially as these techniques get more accepted. It has been heartening to see that people are more accepting of experimental archaeology, and even people on traditional digs now are running maybe an experiment or two. So they're not going all the way to experimental archaeology, but they're incorporating these practices.

It's just such a fun field. I really would encourage people to get involved with it and to try it out, because you can do a lot of basic things like gather acorns and try to make a recipe out of those. Or research some ancient Roman or Greek food and try to re-create that stuff ‪—‬ just little experiments and things you can do to get people excited about it and bring the past alive in a new way.

And I have a new book coming out in the fall called "The Museum of Lost Things: True Tales of Fabled Treasures, Legendary Cities, and Mythical Creatures That Vanished From History" [National Geographic, 2026]. It's about the greatest lost treasures in history and has some interesting archaeological angles in there.

KK: I'll look forward to reading that. Thanks for chatting with me!

Editor's note: This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Ancient Egypt quiz: Test your smarts about pyramids, hieroglyphs and King Tut

On paper, doctors should know better — antibiotics treat only bacterial infections, and yet, physicians sometimes give them to patients who have viral infections. For patients, an unnecessary antibiotic can mean short-term side effects, like diarrhea, or more-persistent impacts, like microbiome disruption. But on a grand scale, the overuse and misuse of antibiotics pressure bacteria to gain resistance, the ability to thwart the drugs intended to kill them.

That can fuel the evolution of "superbugs" that evade most, if not all, antibiotics. In the worst-case scenario, this could contribute to tens of millions of extra deaths over the next 15 years, caused by illnesses that were once easily treated.

Given that antibiotic resistance is one of the world's leading public health threats, earlier this year, I went to Japan to investigate a program that has been remarkably effective at curbing the overuse and misuse of the drugs. I wanted to understand why doctors sometimes prescribe antibiotics when they're not needed and what approaches have been shown to improve their prescribing habits.

To answer those questions, I took a deep dive into the research on the topic and found the work of Julia Szymczak, a medical sociologist at the University of Utah School of Medicine, whose studies shed light on why doctors prescribe these medicines when they're not needed. I spoke with Szymczak about the complex social dynamics behind this behavior and whether there are reliable strategies for reining in antibiotic misuse.

Nicoletta Lanese: Could you explain the focus of your work?

Julia Szymczak: All of my work is really focused on two things. One, understanding why it is difficult for clinicians in real-world practice to use antibiotics the way that medical guidelines or evidence suggests they should be used. And then, more recently in my career, it's focused on developing interventions or strategies to help clinicians apply evidence that's informed by all that work.

I think about the decision-making about how an antibiotic is used as not simply a decision that is about pathophysiology or microbiology — it's about social dynamics. Clinicians are sensitive to a lot of other features in the care delivery environment beyond what they know to be true about antibiotics, what they know to be true or apparent about the potential infection that a patient has.

NL: What are some factors that shape that dynamic?

JS: Diagnostic uncertainty is a major challenge for clinicians. Differentiating viral versus bacterial is not [straightforward] — you don't have a slam-dunk perfect test. There are attempts to develop things to help, but the diagnostic uncertainty piece is really challenging.

Then there's the organizational characteristics around clinician decision-making, which is that everybody is incredibly time pressured, and so decision-making about antibiotics happens very quickly.

In the ambulatory or the outpatient setting, where the vast majority of human antibiotic use occurs, one of the more common themes that you will hear when you talk to clinicians is that patients often want antibiotics that are not needed. That relationship is more complicated than it appears on its face, but that is a major pressure point for clinicians.

NL: Are there other pressures that are unique to the outpatient setting, where most antibiotics are used?

JS: The major one is time pressure. I had a pediatrician who said they had — I can't remember the figure, but it was like 800 seconds for a sick visit. They broke it down into seconds. Their experience of time in the outpatient setting is so intense. Certainly clinicians in the inpatient setting [hospitals] feel time pressure, but the decision-making is distributed over an admission, which still might only be two days, but two days is different than literally five minutes.

The other thing is your interaction with that patient. That clinical encounter is very transactional, particularly in the United States, particularly for those clinicians who work in, for example, telemedicine, which is a whole other context but has similar features to urgent care or sick visits. This idea that "I'm trying to provide you with something of value" [is a big factor]. That could be a proper diagnosis. That could be the provision of a prescription. It could be reassurance that you're going to be fine. In some scenarios, people are looking for information that they can share with their employer.

Someone is coming to you to get something for a problem. Oftentimes, your assumption is that what they're coming to you for is an antibiotic. The encounter is already shaped by the patient's expectation — or your [the doctor's] expectation of the patient's expectation. There's literature that shows that, in many scenarios, clinicians might perceive that a patient wants an antibiotic when the patient actually doesn't.

Oftentimes, clinicians will say that [when] somebody has what is very likely a viral infection and they don't need antibiotics, the act of explaining why they don't need antibiotics is very difficult, particularly if they seem to want them or if they've had multiple similar episodes and they've always gotten antibiotics in the past. That discussion, the literal conversation, is difficult. It takes time. It's draining.

Then, you're in an environment where there are competing priorities around how that patient is going to evaluate your care. If a patient is unhappy because you didn't give them an antibiotic and you're concerned about the patient-satisfaction score, which is being watched by your leadership, but no one's monitoring your antibiotic use, that could tip you into the prescription of an antibiotic that isn't needed.

Then, of course, there's also the fear of missing something. On the off chance the patient has an infection and it helps them, that staves off a whole bunch of other imagined or real bad scenarios down the line.

NL: You said it's often difficult for doctors to explain their reasoning around antibiotics. Do you think that's because the technicalities of resistance are hard to explain, or something else?

JS: I don't think it's necessarily that they aren't confident in the medical explanation. A paper of mine called "I Never Get Better Without an Antibiotic" goes through all the reasons why the discussion is difficult.

Briefly: The biomedical stuff is often not the hard part. What's difficult is countering a patient who you think has already made up their mind about what they need and convincing them that they don't need it. It involves not just the provision of microbiological facts but having to explain why their past diagnoses might not have been accurate or their previous clinicians didn't make a good decision. Or people might talk about their social network: "Well, so and so got antibiotics for that." And it's like, I'm not their doctor. I didn't see them. I'm making a decision about you.

There are social reasons why that discussion is just difficult, and then you throw that into the time pressure and potentially add in even the glimmer of antagonism or conflict, and people just don't want to go there because they're exhausted.

I don't think it's about the education, about the likelihood of this being viral and "antibiotics don't work for viral infections." It's a lot more countering beliefs that aren't necessarily accurate [such as antibiotics always being needed for certain symptoms] and dealing with social awkwardness.

NL: I feel like that breaks with the common stereotype of doctors being very cold, calculating and logical.

JS: In my life of explaining to people, mostly clinical and epidemiologic audiences, there is a bit of a professional pride about evidence-based practice. Clinicians are educated deeply, and they're experts; they should be applying this evidence to every patient every time. But I always start [by saying], "You guys are human too, right?"

With antibiotics, emotions play a large role in how people are using these drugs. I've had many clinicians describe antibiotics as some of the best anti-anxiolytics — so like it's an anti-anxiety medicine for the clinician.

This idea of the cold, logical, rational actor, I mean, doesn't apply anywhere in medicine. But in particular, I think this is a great [example of a] scenario where that perfect model of decision-making just gets completely upended by contextual and structural factors, as well as social and emotional factors.

NL: Are there additional factors to consider in the context of pediatrics?

JS: A lot of my portfolio is in pediatrics, and in fact, that's where I started my work. I was a postdoctoral fellow at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia, so I have spent a lot of time doing pediatric research.

As pediatricians say, "We have two patients: there's the child and the caregiver, the parent or the guardian." Maybe two. And so you're navigating the patient and their parents, and the interactions have a lot of complexity. There's often the challenge where the patient can't communicate what's wrong; it's difficult to convey symptoms. It adds a layer to the diagnostic uncertainty.

Then, of course, the fragility of children [is a factor], and the concern of the illness going off the rails. That feels more fearful than it does for a middle-aged adult.

But I would say one thing with pediatrics is that parents are more open to the idea of not wanting to give their kids medication that they don't need. The origins of that may come from different places than what an antibiotic steward would necessarily think of as the main reason why you want to avoid antibiotics, because it's often just about avoiding any medication. But I think that parents can be a partner in stewardship, engaging with clinicians around whether or not an antibiotic is necessary or potentially being open to this "watch and wait" — this idea of holding off to see if the body fights off the infection on its own.

When you look nationally [in the U.S.], pediatricians have done the best at improving their prescribing. Some of the biggest leaps and bounds in outpatient stewardship, it started in pediatrics. So pediatricians tend to be on the cutting edge, I would say.

NL: In pediatric outpatient settings, are there any strategies that work really well?

JS: One of the most common ones is the use of "audit with feedback," this idea of prescribing report cards where you give clinicians information at regular intervals about how well they use antibiotics and then compare it to their colleagues in their practice or in their entire health system. That's been demonstrated to work, but not in isolation.

[Editor's note: Szymczak's research suggests that certain social factors make this approach more likely to work. For instance, clinicians who respond best trust that the data they're being given is accurate, feel supported by their leadership, don't feel overly stressed or surveilled by the feedback, and are comfortable fielding patients' demands for antibiotics.]

Another piece that has been demonstrated to work, if clinicians use it, is that many electronic health records have pathways or order sets or guidelines embedded. So, if a clinician's like, "I'm going to diagnose [urinary tract infection] UTI in this patient," there's a UTI pathway that they can click on that will give them evidence-based laboratory testing and management strategies. It takes them fewer clicks to get the stuff that they need.

So, it's multifactorial, but [effective stewardship] usually involves some combination of data, education and making the right choice the easy choice.

NL: When it comes to interventions for outpatient settings, are there strategies that just don't seem to work?

JS: Education on its own, targeting clinicians or patients, is not sufficient to move the needle on prescribing.

NL: Could you elaborate on why educating patients isn't the best approach?

JS: Patient education is important but has not been demonstrated to move the needle very much. I think partially that is because the approach we have taken to education has been connected to abstract concepts like antimicrobial resistance, which is important at the population level, of course, but can be difficult to understand for the lay public and can be less motivating [for them to change their personal behaviors].

I do think we are seeing more interest from the lay public in things like the microbiome and gut health and the role of antibiotics in potentially disrupting those things. I think education to the public that directly connects to individual-level harms is more motivating than population-level harms.

NL: When it comes to interventions, do you think the surrounding cultural context affects which strategies work best? I'm thinking of the U.S. versus Japan, for instance.

JS: I do think that the surrounding cultural context will always play a role, to some degree, in how interventions to improve clinical decision-making will fare. I have also written a bit about that in another commentary that delves into the observation in the United States that we have considerable regional variation in antibiotic use that is not explained by clinical factors.

I am cautious, though, about how we think about the concept of "culture" in relation to clinical decision-making. When it comes to antibiotic prescribing, I do think there are universal factors that shape how people respond to efforts to intervene, including the management of diagnostic uncertainty; fears of missing something, leading to "just in case" prescribing; a desire to offer patients something of value; and the difficulty explaining why antibiotics are needed or not.

NL: Regarding Japan's incentive program, which pays pediatricians "tips" for improving their antibiotic use, do you think a similar approach would be motivating for U.S. pediatricians? Would it be feasible to implement that kind of strategy here?

JS: I think it could be difficult to implement here, but the details of how the program is operationalized would be very important.

We know, in general, that financial incentives have [a] mixed impact on physician decision-making. You especially have to be careful about unintended consequences. For antibiotics, it would be very important to have a clear definition of the outcome that will be incentivized and how it would be measured. With antibiotics, there can be gray areas and you don't want to incentivize undertreatment, especially if it is individual-level financial incentives.

A better approach may be in aggregate and [to] reward health systems or clinics for improved antibiotic use for conditions in which antibiotics are never needed, for example.

Editor's note: This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

On a dark mountaintop in Chile, the world's largest digital camera has begun filming its masterpiece.

This Tuesday (June 30), scientists with the Vera C. Rubin Observatory announced that the facility's ambitious Legacy Survey of Space and Time (LSST) officially began. Every night for the next 10 years, the observatory's car-size LSST Camera will capture a 3,200-megapixel image of the southern sky — then another, then another, slowly filling in a mosaic of the universe 30 seconds at a time.

"In a sense, we're taking a digital color motion picture of the universe," Tony Tyson, a professor of cosmology at the University of California Davis and LSST's chief scientist and former founding director of the Rubin Observatory, told Live Science.

Strafing across the sky in stop-motion, the survey is expected to spot between 7 million and 8 million changes among the stars each night — from flashing supernovas and streaking comets to colliding galaxies and dim, tumbling asteroids. Within minutes of each exposure, alerts to any peculiar changes will become publicly available for astronomers and space enthusiasts around the world to study.

"Rubin is an automated facility, so scientists don't come here to use it," Tyson said. "But tens of trillions of observations is enough data for everybody in the world."

Tyson is hoping the firehose of data will unmask theinvisible 95% of the universe that is composed of dark matter and dark energy.

While there are still some technical bugs to work out — and the looming threat of ultra-bright corporate satellites to contend with — Tyson and his colleagues are ready to roll out the survey, "gradually increasing our sky area and image quality" over the next few months, he added.

Live Science spoke with Tyson about the LSST and what it may find in the coming years.

Brandon Specktor: You're about to spend 10 years observing the southern sky with the largest digital camera ever. What will a typical night of the survey look like?

Tony Tyson: In a sense, we're making a digital color motion picture of the universe. We'll take thousands of 30-second exposures every night. Within two minutes of the shutter closing on an exposure, we will process all the data, [compare] it from the archival sky of that piece of the sky, and — if something explodes, or pops off, or moves in the sky in a way we don't understand — issue an alert. The alerts go to the world.

I made the decision early on to make the data available to everyone. The alerts will also go to eight data brokers, which specialize in things like cosmology, supernovae, etc., and the public can sign up to the feed from their favorite brokers.

BS: Which feed will you be watching most closely?

TT: My most interesting data broker is one which will come up with a classification of "unknown." I'm more interested in the unknown, unclassifiable things that go on in the universe. But there's a sort of a live stream of catalog information that's going to be available to people — and we're excited for writing up a lot of new discoveries.

My hope at this time is that we will discover something unexpected that will revolutionize astronomy. I think it's more than a hope, I think it's a guarantee.

BS: What kind of revolution would that be? Is there one big question you hope Rubin will answer?

TT: I'm a cosmologist, so my hope is that we'll get closer to understanding the physics of dark energy and dark matter.

But to be frank, I think we'll be remembered 100 years from now for something else in addition. And discovering something totally new in the time domain, something that blows our minds, that we did not expect — some kind of new object that's out there. There's examples of this in radio astronomy with the FRBs [fast radio bursts], for example. And I think that that's going to be how we will be remembered.

BS: The Rubin Observatory observes in optical light. Are there any strange optical phenomena you have your eye on?

TT: There's already a pretty strong hint, actually, that there is a population of very faint bursting objects that just pop off. The ones we know about are typically pretty bright — supernovae, which last for a long time, and gamma-ray bursts, which are bright but they don't last very long. But there's a big question mark in this unique area that we're going to explore, of faint things that are very short-lived. And there's evidence now from a team in Japan that there is a population of very faint things that explode just once. They don't repeat. And so I'm keeping my eye on that.

BS: What are the Rubin Observatory's main science goals?

TT: There's a lot of areas of science that we can address — and that was really the main selling point for us with the agencies. For one, we'll be looking at cosmology and the history of the expansion of the universe. Just by itself, we will have enough data to measure key parameters in cosmology to eliminate models of dark matter and dark energy, which is exciting.

Another area is looking at new kinds of stars in our galaxy, so we can look at the history of our galaxy and the history of star formation in our galaxy. At even lower redshift, an interesting area is looking at both comets and potentially Earth-threatening asteroids. Every night we detect about a thousand new asteroids.

And we will be able to uniquely look for those, if we can get rid of the interfering low-Earth-orbiting satellites, which really make that impossible. And so I've been unfortunately sidetracked into worrying a lot about that in the recent year.

BS: Are you talking about companies like Reflect Orbital, which essentially want to put giant mirrors in low Earth orbit? We've written about how satellites like that could totally compromise the LSST.

Yes. There's a proposed class of extremely ultra-bright satellites that are going to be launched that are incompatible with the LSST science, totally incompatible. The skies will no longer be dark for anybody, anywhere.

Reflect Orbital is one example. The other example is these orbiting AI [artificial intelligence] computational centers, which will be exceedingly bright. We've met with all these companies. They say that they feel our pain, but their board of directors or their investors say that they're going to go forward.

I've been working with SpaceX, though. They're really trying very hard to eliminate some of these effects, but nothing is perfect. It's going to be tough.

BS: So if these companies are moving forward, what are you going to do?

What I'm trying to do is work very closely with Congress and the American Astronomical Society and other bodies — the United Nations, the FCC [Federal Communications Commission] — to see what we can do.

I'm inherently an optimist. I think the Reflect Orbital is a failed business model, but they're going to try doing it anyway. So they'll put a lot of junk up there for a while.

BS: I truly wish you the best with that. But since you're an optimist, let's end on something positive. You've championed this observatory for more than 20 years — first as its founding director and now its chief scientist. How does it feel now that the LSST is finally operational?

It's quite gratifying, after all this time, to have something that actually works. It's a hugely complicated system, and nothing so complicated as that works perfectly all the time.

I was the original founding director, I am now the chief scientist, and it is my day job to worry about what's going wrong with this or that. And there's a laundry list of things that we're worried about. But it's working, and it's working quite well. And so that's quite gratifying.

Editor's Note: This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity. The article was updated with a new headline on July 6 at 1 p.m. ET.

It takes a dozen or so hours for the mushroom to kick in. Then, the hallucinations are unlike any others known to science.

On this trip, there are none of the heightened colors, breathing or pulsing objects, nor geometrical patterns typically reported by users of psychedelic substances. In fact, the hundreds of people who enter clinics in China's Yunnan province during each year's summer mushroom season tend to say their vision is clear and largely unaltered.

Well, aside from one major exception: nearly all users see visions of hundreds to thousands of highly-rendered miniature people, dressed in bright colors like elves, gnomes, clowns or other fairy-like figures. The hallucinated sprites wriggle under doors, dive off spoons into soup bowls and make lewd and mischievous gestures, among other strange behaviors.

These visions are reported by 90% of those who come down sick after consuming a single species of bolete mushroom, called Lanmaoa asiatica, in its raw or undercooked form. Yet despite decades of anecdotal reports, the fantastical claims were dismissed by western scientists as a form of "mushroom madness" — until Colin Domnauer, an undergraduate student taking an optional university module on funguses, caught wind of the rumors.

Domnauer, now a doctoral student at the University of Utah, made finding and analyzing the mushroom the purpose of his PhD, a goal that took him to China and the northern Philippines on the trail of a hallucinogenic compound that is likely completely unknown to science.

Live Science sat down with Domnauer to discuss L. asiatica, the bizarre revelations it could hold for how we perceive reality, and the barely-discovered fungal universe that surrounds us. Here's what he had to say.

Ben Turner: Let's start by introducing this mushroom. What is Lanmaoa asiatica?

Colin Domnauer: Lanmaoa asiatica is a species of mushroom from Yunnan, China. It was described to science only 10 years ago in 2015, so it's a relatively newly discovered species, but it was actually being sold in the markets in Yunnan for decades before scientists realized it was its own species.

Through the work I've been doing, we've come to the conclusion that this species is responsible for really strange reports of hallucinations that people are getting after eating wild mushrooms in China, and elsewhere in the world as well.

It's a species that grows with pine trees. It has a symbiotic relationship called a mycorrhizal relationship and so, for that reason, it's something that can't be cultivated artificially. And it's still only found in its wild habitats, so it's difficult to distribute in that sense. But it's still relatively common and popular in the places that it is found.

BT: The mushroom is growing in notoriety because of the uniquely bizarre hallucinations it's reported to cause. Let’s say I ingest a significant dose of raw or undercooked L. asiatica right now, what's my next week gonna look like?

CD: Alright, so we don't know exactly the amount of mushroom that's required to get this effect, because in all these cultures they're eating it accidentally, or they're eating it just as food, but they're not intentionally pursuing the psychoactive effects. These effects are seen as an accidental side effect of eating too much, or if they're not cooked enough.

But if you do have a substantial amount, what we do know is that after about 12 to 24 hours you're going to start getting Lilliputian hallucinations, which is a clinically defined syndrome that's characterized by seeing little people or animals all around your environment.

And these aren't like some vague hallucinations, these are like three-dimensionally-rendered, highly-detailed figures inhabiting your exterior world. And they're also interacting with objects in the real world — like crawling up chairs and tables or under doorways, people say. So there's a very strange and specific type of reality-grounded, projected hallucination.

Even to this day science doesn't understand what's going on in the brain to cause this, or how to treat it, and this mushroom is the only thing that we currently know of to reliably produce this effect.

BT: Okay, so immediately there's a lot I want to ask you. Firstly, these tiny people are pretty reliably reported, right?

CD: At first scientists dismissed it as a folk tale or something, because it sounds so impossible, but this is actually something that affects hundreds of people every year in Yunnan, China, and there's many hospital reports of people getting affected in this way. In fact, one study looked at about 400 cases in a year of people who were affected by this mushroom, and 90% of them said that they had these Lilliputian hallucinations. It's a hallmark symptom of this mushroom.

BT: From the case reports we have hundreds to thousands of clearly-rendered, often brightly-colored, gnome or fairy-like teeny people clambering about and crawling under things. What else are they doing? Are they talking to the people having the hallucinations, is there much interaction going on?

CD: That's something that's not as commonly reported, but it has been mentioned in a handful of cases, both in China and in other cultures where this phenomenon has been noted.

The little people are said to typically like teasing, playing with or harassing the person seeing them, so there is some level of interaction there.

They're typically viewed to be amusing, mischievous, that sort of attitude. They're not usually seen as threatening, although in a few cases people felt that way.

BT: Are there any other clinically-reported effects on the mind and body?

CD: Yeah, there are. The Lilliputian hallucinations are the most striking symptom, but there's other things as well. About 50% of people reported having some gastrointestinal upset after eating this mushroom. It's not clear exactly the severity of that, because this was just a statistic that was noted in these papers, and it's also not clear if it was caused by this mushroom specifically or other things they were eating in the meal. So these aren't really robust studies in that sense, they're just collecting data of people who happen to get these effects.

And then another key thing that a lot of people note is that they seem to be typically weakened, more tired and delirious, so this could give us a hint as to the mechanisms that this unknown compound is working through. So it sounds quite different from the known psychedelic compounds.

And it's not only because of that. This is actually something I forgot to mention, but these hallucinations can last several days long. So it's not something that is experienced over a few hours like other compounds.

BT: If people are hallucinating thousands of miniature people taunting them for several days, are there any injuries or fatalities linked to cases? Or is it just unpleasant and irritating, but harmless?

CD: Yeah, that's something I really was curious about, because it sounded like it must be quite harmful if it's something that's sticking around in the body for several days and having these strong effects.

But interestingly, all those hundreds of hospital reports reported zero deaths or fatalities. They also reported no abnormalities in vital organ function, so it seems to be physiologically safe. But then, at the same time, we don't know if that's because those people were admitted to the hospital and they were getting proper treatment, or if we only have the records of people that were committed to the hospital. So it might be a skewed sample.

BT: You mentioned that this mushroom is found in China's Yunnan province. And you personally also identified it in the northern Philippines too. I was wondering how widespread and integrated into the cultures of these regions it is. How widely known is it? Is it treated as a mischief of little significance, or has it been integrated into any religious practices?

CD: In all these places, the mushroom is viewed as a very prized edible. It tastes very good and has a great flavor, but it's never been integrated into any spiritual or religious practices for the psychoactive effects. The psychoactive effects are like an accidental side effect of the food, and they're viewed as sort of an amusing side effect of that. They're not something that they intentionally pursue, but it's also not something that they feel fearful of and avoid.

Everyone knows that this mushroom has this property and can make you see little people, but they'll continue to eat it anyway, because they're just not afraid of that effect. But they're also not pursuing it, if that makes sense. It's sort of a middle ground viewpoint they have.

BT: And that's so strange. I mean you're a scientist, I'm a science journalist, to me this thing is so fundamentally bizarre that I struggle to understand how it has flown under the radar for so long. It was only scientifically described 10 years ago, and even then without much mention of the psychoactive properties. Why are we only just talking about this now?

CD: The first reports of psychoactive boletes actually go back to the 1930s to 1960s in Papua New Guinea. That's actually a time before we even knew about psilocybin mushrooms, and yet psilocybin mushrooms have exploded in the last century to become globally popular.

But this mushroom went the opposite way and faded into obscurity. And I think the reason for that is twofold. One, the scientists who were initially studying this mushroom in Papua New Guinea were unable to isolate any psychoactive compounds and couldn't determine the species responsible for the effects. And secondly, because these symptoms sounded so bizarre and fantasy-like — seeing little people — I think this biased them toward believing that it wasn't possible.

In fact, they concluded that this whole phenomenon of "mushroom madness" was all just a social act, a myth, or a way for the people to behave in ways they ordinarily wouldn't. But they concluded the mushrooms were just like a scapegoat, they weren't actually physiologically active, it was just an excuse to do these things. It sounded so impossible, and we just couldn't figure out the chemistry of these mushrooms.

But since that time, we've had more reports coming from other cultures — from China, and now over the last two years from the Philippines. That's multiple independent cultures reporting the same specific type of hallucination.

And what I was able to show was that they were due to the same mushroom, verified by DNA sequencing. It wasn't just random attribution, it was the same species. That, to me, confirms that there's an underlying physical cause of this.

BT: How did you first hear about L. asiatica?

CD: I first heard about this when I was an undergraduate student taking an elective course about mushrooms, and the teacher briefly mentioned one paper writing about these mushrooms in China that have this effect.

It was written sort of as an anecdotal story. The mycologist was traveling in Yunnan, and the local people told him: "Oh, these mushrooms will make you see little people if you don't cook them." But in that paper he was unable to identify the mushrooms, and he shared his story and said this is something that needs more attention. I tried to look more into it after hearing about that, and I found that, amazingly, no-one was studying it. It had gone just unnoticed or dismissed for decades.

This sounded so weird and groundbreaking to me that, even if it had a small chance of being true, it was something worth pursuing and I needed to know everything I could about it. So that's when I decided to do a whole PhD research project to try to answer that question.

BT: So what did you do next?

CD: My first task was to go to China, because that's where it was most popular and most well known. And, upon getting there, it was immediately obvious that the local people knew much more about it than we scientists did. It was actually a very well-known and common phenomenon. Everyone there was very open and welcoming and happy to talk about everything they knew about this mushroom with me. So I learned a lot just speaking with the local people who were selling this mushroom.

I just asked them: "Which ones will make you see little people?" they pointed to them, and I collected them. After getting back to my lab here in Utah, I was able to sequence the mushrooms to determine their identity, and it turns out they were all this one species, so that was a first big hint.

BT: There must have been a moment when you went from hearing about this as a tall tale to realizing it was the real deal. What was that like?

CD: Going into my whole PhD was sort've a wild goose chase — a long shot. We didn't even know if this was real, and even when I made this trip to China, as I was traveling there I asked myself: "Am I even going to find anything? Is this going to be a whole waste of time?"

But it was immediately obvious that it was incredibly well known. As soon as I started talking with the locals and mentioning this mushroom, their faces lit up, and they started sharing amazing stories. It wasn't some obscure, lesser-known myth. It was a big part of their mushroom knowledge and practices, and that just built up over the days as I was in China, and talked to more people, and just confirmed how integral and well known this psychoactive mushroom is to them. It felt like it was too popular to be dismissed as a folk tale.

The real smoking gun then came a few years later when I heard some remarkably similar reports of mushrooms causing Lilliputian hallucinations in a completely different part of the world in the northern Philippines.

That really got my attention. I wanted to know if this is the same species as the one in China, or something completely different? But no-one had ever sequenced or studied the mushrooms in those regions, we just didn't know what it was. So I traveled there, went into the forest and on the last day was able to finally find the mushroom that the local people said was the one that made you see little people. At first when I collected it I couldn't tell if it was the same as the one in China.

When I got the DNA sequencing back it was one of the most exciting moments of my whole research. It was actually the same species as the one in China, which was completely unexpected, because that species, L. asiatica, was thought to only be found in China. Now we have a whole new record in a country that has independently discovered the same specific psychoactive properties belonging to it.

BT: Skipping forward to the more recent research that you've published this month, what have you found out about the pharmacology behind the mushroom's psychoactive properties?

CD: Just this month I was finally able to publish research that sequenced the whole genomes of not just L. asiatica, but actually all of the species in this group. I did that because I wanted to understand what psychoactive chemicals might be causing this effect and if it’s something that's found more widely in the mushroom kingdom, or only in this one species; so I needed to understand the whole evolutionary relationships and history of the group.

By sequencing the whole genome, we could look for genes within it that we know are responsible for synthesizing psychoactive compounds. For example, we know the genes that are needed to make psilocybin, and we looked for those genes and they were notably absent. We then confirmed this by looking at a chemical extract of the mushroom and screening all the compounds within it, finding again that there was no psilocybin.

There weren't even any known psychoactive compounds, so it seemed like this must be some new hallucinogenic compound waiting to be discovered, because there's nothing that matches anything in our database.

BT: What work are you doing now to isolate the psychoactive compound?

CD: It can be a long and painstaking process to go from a complicated organism that has hundreds of molecules in it to one causing a single effect. We've been screening the chemical extracts in mice, for example. We give them an extract of this mushroom, and we also give them an extract of a placebo or a blank control and we watch how their behavior changes. With L. asiatica, they behave strikingly differently than in the control, so that shows that there is a bioactive effect going on.

We then take an extract and split it into like 20 fractions, with each fraction containing a different subset of the mushroom’s chemicals. Then we test each of those 20 in the mice, and we see, okay, 19 of these have no effect, and then one of them does have an effect. That way we can narrow down the chemical responsible.

There's also other more complicated methods that we're pursuing. But still to this day we haven't definitively found the actual chemical responsible.

BT: Do you at least have a few candidates?

CD: I'll say this: We’ve narrowed down whatever is causing the activity in mice to a few candidates, but we don't know if the thing that's causing activity in mice is the same thing causing hallucinations in humans.

Mushrooms can have a variety of different bioactive effects, and there's going to be more testing needed to confirm that it actually has the specific hallucinogenic property. It could all just be a red herring that we're chasing, and so that's one of the reasons why it takes a long time to definitively determine an active biochemical.

BT: I know you’re approaching this from the mycology side, but the same visions being consistently reported between cases implies one or more regions of the brain responsible for seeing little people. What work has been done on the neuroscience behind Lilliputian hallucinations? Has anyone identified the regions of the brain it's hitting?

CD: I mean, that's a great question. As far as I know there's really nothing known about the parts of the brain that are being activated. Lilliputian hallucinations have been documented for over 100 years from causes outside of mushrooms — people get them sometimes during alcohol withdrawals or certain neurological conditions associated with old age, like dementia or Charles Bonnet syndrome.

But in all those cases, psychiatrists and neurologists don't really have a treatment for those people because they don't know how it works in the brain. If you don't understand the mechanisms involved, you can't treat it, so it remains a mystery to this day. Hopefully more neuroscientists can use this mushroom to study it, because that's one of the reasons it's remained mysterious. We didn't have a tool that could produce these effects reliably. It was all random, inconsistent occurrences.

But now, hopefully, this mushroom can provide a tool that can reliably produce these effects and give us insights into the brain and body mechanisms causing these Lilliputian hallucinations.

BT: DMT, LSD, magic mushrooms — most psychedelics usually hit serotonin receptors, yet weirdly there's no sign of that here. Is there any possibility it's doing something upstream with the same effect?

CD: I would say we're not sure, but I'll say that there are very unique effects of these symptoms — that they take 12 to 24 hours to kick in, and then can last several days — that are unlike any known receptor interaction classical psychedelics work through. So it might be something more complicated going on in the body than just a single receptor being activated.

BT: Have you spoken to anyone who has suspicions of what parts of the brain might be involved?

CD: I haven't. However, I'll say that the very striking visual hallucinations of something being completely integrated with the real world environment around you can be a great tool to understand the mechanisms of perception, and how we perceive reality in the absence of this drug.

I mean, this is... I don't know of anything else like this that can produce these very realistic hallucinations integrated with the real world. So, hopefully, it can give us insight into how we perceive reality normally.

BT: With other psychedelics, people report seeing real objects altered or patterns appearing that aren't there. But the source of all that is a warped version of stuff you're already seeing. Here, your visual field is unaltered, except, of course, that there are hundreds of mischievous tiny people fooling about in it.

CD: It's really different, yeah. Like you said, either the objects that are normally there are changed in some way, or people go to a different world in their minds, behind closed eyelids.

But to see, with your eyes open, the world as it normally appears with the addition of very realistically-rendered people, that others don't perceive, is really striking.

BT: So there have been scant reports of similar hallucinations occurring elsewhere. Papua New Guinea is a strong lead, right? Does that mean that L. asiatica is also there, or could there be another mushroom that's kind of having effects?

CD: That's one of the most exciting questions that I'm interested in. It still remains a big question mark. What mushroom in Papua New Guinea is causing these effects? There's no records of L. asiatica even occurring in Papua New Guinea, but it could be that mycologists just haven't documented it there. Mycology is still a very young discipline, and there's a lot of parts of the world where we still don't even know the mushrooms that exist there.

Or it could be a completely different mushroom, which would be exciting for its own reason — it would show that whatever compound is causing this is perhaps more widespread, and it's not just found in one species. More research needs to be done, for sure.

The cultural use and consumption of these wild mushrooms in Papua New Guinea has faded since the 1960s, when they were prevalent and reported. There's been no cases of this "mushroom madness" for decades. The reasons could be twofold, either the local people have lost that tradition and practice, or the forests have also been deforested. It's still a big question mark as to what's going on in Papua New Guinea.

BT: On mycology being a young field, the estimates for the world's fungal species that have been described float between 3% and 10%. It makes one wonder what else could be out there. Have you heard any other intriguing mushroom rumours?

CD: Who knows what else is out there waiting to be discovered. That’s what got me into this field. I was actually initially in astronomy, because I was so captivated by exploring the unknown. And then I realized there's a whole universe of life here on Earth that is still unexplored, the fungi, and so that's when I started studying them.

So I'm sure there are other crazy, promising, interesting fungi out there just like this. But I can't think of specific cases to cite. I mean, if it's unknown, it's unknown.

BT: I was wondering if you were close to performing the same trick twice.

CD: Yeah, hopefully others can.

BT: Do you think the window for them will exist for much longer? You mentioned these things grow symbiotically with trees through mycorrhizal networks. It's not just in Papua New Guinea where humans are chopping a lot of those forests down.

CD: Yeah, absolutely. Not only are the forests being lost, but also the cultures that have this traditional knowledge are also being decimated, so we're losing a lot of knowledge about the natural world that has taken thousands of years of experimentation to accumulate, and it's a tragedy.

It's like burning down a library, but the library contains millions of years of evolution and thousands of years of cultural knowledge. I'm sure there's mushrooms every day that are going extinct, and those might be holding promising new medicines or strange new drugs that can change our understanding of ourselves and the world, or have solutions to environmental problems.

It is definitely a race against time, and certainly the reason why I think fungal conservation and cultural conservation and respect is needed.

BT: Finally, I can’t get to the end of this interview and not ask you. Have you eaten raw or undercooked L. asiatica? Have you seen the tiny people?

CD: Of course I’ve been tempted to. But I haven't actually eaten it raw intentionally for two reasons. One, the effects last several days, and also apparently cause a delirium that might not be so pleasant. So, it's a pretty serious undertaking, I'd say.

Then secondly, we also just don't know anything about the dose of the mushroom that causes the effects, because people are just eating this in a meal, and then in some cases they get these psychoactive effects. We don't know how much is required, so there'd be a lot of careful experimentation of consuming raw mushrooms and then increasing the amount. That would take, I think, a lot of time and mushrooms to go through.

I'm certainly super curious, and that’s why I'm studying this in the first place. But there's already hundreds of reports out there, I don't feel like I need to prove anything. Personally, at this point, I just don't feel like it's not worth the commitment to be having these hallucinations for several days.

Editor's note: This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.