The Human Consciousness Now...Our World in the Midst of Becoming...to What? Observe, contemplate Now.
BRATISLAVA, Jun 16 2026 (IPS) - LGBTQ+ people in Russia are being forced to increasingly use self-censoring strategies in their daily lives as they struggle with systemic vulnerability, one of the largest surveys of the LGBTQ+ community in the country has shown.
The latest annual survey of more than 6,000 people across Russia by the Coming Out and Sphere Foundation organisations showed that, in 2025, the situation for the community had neither improved nor significantly worsened.
But it showed a reinforcement of existing adaptive strategies among LGBTQ+ people, including selective approaches to coming out and avoidance of situations in which their gender identity or sexual orientation could be revealed.
There was also an increase in some forms of abuse, particularly in online spaces, and threats of violence, extortion, denunciation, and pressure from close circles continued to contribute significantly to the everyday vulnerability of LGBTQ+ people.
The groups say the findings reinforce the perception that LGBTQ+ people in Russia – where a series of repressive laws demonising and persecuting the community – are likely to face persistently high levels of vulnerability and threats to their safety, health, and quality of life for some time to come as they come under attack simply for being who they are.
“Our data shows that repression of LGBTQ+ people has moved from persecution for specific actions to persecution for their identity, for who a person is, not what they do. There are more and more legal cases against people who are living their lives, not doing anything against the government or trying to promote human rights,” Denis Oleinik, Executive Director at Coming Out, told IPS.
“What we have seen in 2025 is a “normalisation” or “routinisation” of catastrophe. LGBTQ+ people now just live with [the situation], with these things happening. It’s as if this has become normal life. It’s absolutely horrible,” he added.
Russia’s LGBTQ+ community has faced increasing discrimination and marginalisation for more than a decade.
While there has historically been a degree of anti-LGBTQ+ sentiment in Russian society, this has deepened significantly with the introduction of a series of laws and increasingly hostile government policies against the community.
In 2013, not long after Vladimir Putin had returned to power as president, a law was implemented banning “the propaganda of non-traditional sexual relations” to anyone under the age of 18.
The start of what critics say has been a decade-long campaign by the Kremlin to marginalise and vilify the LGBTQ+ community in the country, the law was extended in 2022 to cover all public information or activities supporting LGBTQ+ rights or displaying non-heterosexual orientation, regardless of age.
A ban on same-sex marriage was also written into the constitution, and in 2023, legislation was passed banning transgender people from officially or medically changing their gender.
The same year also saw a ruling by the Supreme Court, which outlawed the non-existent ‘international LGBT movement’, declaring it ‘extremist’ – allowing people to be fined or prosecuted for anything that could be construed as promoting “non-traditional sexual relations”.
At the same time, homophobic political discourse has become increasingly normalised, as the Kremlin has looked to promote ‘traditional family values’ in society and cast LGBTQ+ activism as a product of a degenerate West and a threat to Russia.
This has fuelled a growingly virulent and often violent rejection of LGBTQ+ people in large parts of society and has left many in the community fearing for their physical and mental health.
Grigory*, an LGBTQ+ student from a major city in Russia, said they were selective in revealing their sexuality and gender identity and that while they do not live in permanent fear of physical attacks, they have adjusted their behaviour to avoid certain locations.
“Sometimes in the evenings I avoid certain places because I could be considered stereotypically gay, perhaps because of my voice or the way I walk. I don’t hide my sexuality in public, but I don’t manifest it either,” they said, adding that this was easier for them than for some other members of the LGBTQ+ community.
“Transgender people suffer the worst problems. It must be very hard for someone to be transgender in Russia. They are so brave and strong. I’m astonished they can keep going,” they said.
The Coming Out and Sphere Foundation showed the situation for transgender people in the vast majority of indicators for quality of life, including specific measures of discrimination and well-being, was worse than for other members of the LGBTQ+ community. Notably, they were significantly more likely to face physical threats and experience actual physical violence, including sexual and domestic violence, more frequently than other LGBTQ+ people.
“A lot of trans people right now live their whole lives at home without even going outside to the shops if they have access to courier services or some relatives or friends who can help them buy what they need. We’re seeing this more and more,” said Oleinik.
Grigory said they felt, along with many others in the community, if not fear of physical attacks, a specific sense of aggression towards them.
“I feel it indirectly. It comes through government narratives in the media and in the public sphere, or in something an acquaintance might say. Queerphobia in Russia is mainly government-induced. Of course it existed before all these awful laws, but it wasn’t that strong. The laws have made it much worse,” they said.
LGBTQ+ rights campaigners say the patterns of behaviour among the community in Russia described in the report are unsurprising given the years of growing repression against them.
“When marginalisation and criminalisation on any grounds are a long-term feature of daily life, people develop ways of managing their daily exposure to harm,” Anastasia Smirnova, Deputy Director and Director of Programmes at rights group ILGA-Europe, told IPS.
She added, though, that LGBTQ+ people in Russia were facing a very specific challenge, as the Russian state has, through increasingly harsh legislation and stigmatising rhetoric, systematically worked to isolate LGBTQ+ human rights defenders and then LGBTQ+ people from each other and from everyone around them as part of a broader dismantling of the conditions for free association and dissent.
“This is what makes it different from social prejudice: it is not a reflection of society, it is a project of the state, and its target is civic life. For many people living through this, the daily acts of self-censorship described in the report are the lived reality of that project,” Smirnova said.
The potential harms of such actions on individuals and the wider community are severe, with impacts on both mental and physical health as individuals are left isolated and in some cases afraid to access healthcare.
“The impact on children is particularly severe. State propaganda targeting schools, the absence of age-appropriate relationship and sex education, and the climate of fear surrounding LGBTI topics leave young people exposed to extreme harm and isolation, especially children who are themselves LGBTI or have LGBTI family members, but also any child who might be perceived as LGBTI,” said Smirnova.
While the report did not show a significant deterioration in a number of indicators compared to previous years – in fact there was a slight improvement in some areas – its authors warn this could be misleading, highlighting that the report relied on the willingness of respondents to “share sensitive information in an increasingly oppressive environment” and that real levels of discrimination and violence could be higher.
Whatever the true levels of discrimination against the community are in Russia, many people are suffering gravely in the current environment.
Grigory said they are currently in therapy, partly to help them deal with the challenges of being LGBTQ+ in Russia.
They said that among the community, “thoughts of killing oneself and suicide attempts are pretty common.”
LGBTQ+ people and activists in touch or working directly with members of the community who spoke to IPS said substance abuse, or self-medication through unsupervised use of anti-depressants, was not uncommon either.
Trying to get help for such problems is difficult though amid mistrust of state health institutions because of widespread homo- and transphobia and concerns over staff potentially breaching patient confidentiality about sexuality.
As the pressure on LGBTQ+ people continues, many feel they have had no choice but to leave the country.
The annual report included responses from hundreds of people who had emigrated, both in 2025 and in the last few years before that.
Severe anxiety and psychological discomfort were the most commonly cited reasons for emigration (66%), while other major reasons included intensified censorship (59%), personal safety risk (57%), and increased homophobia and transphobia in Russian society (57%).
Tellingly, the majority of participants who had emigrated (63%) did not consider returning to Russia an option – a rise of 8 percentage points on the previous year.
This is perhaps unsurprising, given that many in the community see little or no prospect of the situation in Russia improving for many years.
“Many things have changed in the last few years, not just in Russia but all around the world – the far right is winning everywhere, and LGBTQ rights are under attack all over the world. I’m not expecting anything good to happen inside Russia in the next five to ten years,” said Oleinik.
But others say that despite, or perhaps because of, the report’s findings, there is an even greater need now for LGBTQ+ people in Russia and groups both inside and outside the country to do whatever they can to resist the state’s ongoing repression of the community.
“There is an important distinction to draw between acknowledging that a democratic reversal in Russia is not on the near horizon and concluding that nothing can or should be done in the meantime. The power of the Russian state, backed by resource wealth and a willingness to use every available instrument of repression, is real and cannot be minimised. And yet what we see from our position, working in support of human rights organisations, defenders, organisers, and activists, is not resignation, but realism paired with determination,” said Smirnova.
“People are continuing to organise, even though the time horizons are long and murky and the measures of ‘value’ of the organising are different from what they might be somewhere else. But keeping the lights on for the possible forms of civic engagement, critical thought, and solidarity is a form of resistance that does have long-term value,” she added.
Oleinik vowed his organisation would not be giving up on LGBTQ+ people in Russia.
“We need to continue our work, our support, because we know that LGBTQ+ people in Russia need us. Right now it might look like there is little hope of positive change, but that does not mean we should stop what we are doing,” he said.
*Name changed for security reasons
IPS UN Bureau Report
KAMPALA Uganda, Jun 16 2026 (IPS) - Global health has a habit of mobilizing around the visible and the dramatic. Ebola, malaria, and Mpox have all dominated headlines related to Africa in recent years, and understandably so. But nobody is talking about one of the most consequential regional health crises waiting to happen.
When a child needs surgery, the first challenge is not the procedure itself. It is getting them safely to sleep. For decades, hospitals across sub-Saharan Africa have relied on a drug called halothane to do that. It has a faintly sweet smell, which means children breathe it in calmly, without distress or resistance. It’s affordable, stable in warm climates, and it works. Although there are anesthetics with fewer side effects that have been used for decades in higher-income countries, in low-resource settings with limited options, it has been indispensable.
Dr. Elizabeth Igaga, Senior Director of Program Safety, Smile Train
I am an anesthesiologist and perioperative patient safety specialist based in Uganda. I work with hospitals across low and middle-income countries to ensure that children who need surgical care receive it safely. Safe anesthesia is not a luxury. It is a foundation of surgical care. What I see on the ground makes the halothane shortage one of the most pressing and underacknowledged patient safety problems in global health today.
The obvious alternative is a drug called sevoflurane. As a more modern anesthetic, it’s safer and more effective than halothane. But in Uganda, sevoflurane costs approximately ten times more than halothane. In settings where health budgets are already stretched, this is not a simple swap.
This matters on an enormous scale. Research published in The Lancet shows that outcomes for children undergoing surgery in Africa are already significantly worse than those in high-income countries, including African mortality rates that are approximately 11 times higher. Remove access to the one anesthetic drug that most African pediatric facilities currently rely on, and those numbers will get worse.
The demographic stakes make this more urgent still. Africa is projected to be home to roughly 40 percent of the world’s children by 2050. The continent already carries an enormous burden of conditions that can only be treated with surgery, much of it in pediatric populations, not to mention a child hit by a car, diagnosed with cancer, or rushed to the hospital with a ruptured appendix. All of these children face the same anesthesia infrastructure as everyone else, and when that infrastructure fails, what would have been a survivable crisis becomes something far worse.
What is often misunderstood about the transition away from halothane is that it is not simply a matter of substituting one drug for another. It is a systems problem with at least four distinct components that all need to move at the same time.
The first is government procurement. Halothane is currently embedded in national drug budgets across the continent at a price point that sevoflurane cannot match. Ministers of health and national procurement authorities must make an active decision to fund the difference and begin revising their drug budgets now, before shortages force their hand under emergency conditions. Market dynamics mean dwindling supplies will make halothane increasingly expensive, another component that could put essential surgeries out of reach.
The second is equipment. Many anesthesia machines currently in use across African hospitals are not compatible with sevoflurane without modification or outright replacement. That requires hospital-by-hospital assessment to understand what is needed before a single bottle of the new drug is ordered. Committing to a new anesthetic without first confirming that the infrastructure can deliver it safely is not a transition plan; it is a different kind of crisis.
The third is the supply chain. Sevoflurane needs to be formally incorporated into national essential medicines lists and procurement frameworks so that it reaches facilities reliably and at negotiated prices, rather than arriving sporadically through fragmented channels.
The fourth is workforce training. The majority of anesthesia care in Africa is delivered by non-physician anesthesia providers rather than doctors. Administering anesthesia to a child is one of the most technically demanding and emotionally weighty responsibilities in medicine, requiring precise judgment in real time when the margin for error is razor-thin. Nobody should be put in the position of performing that task for the first time on an unfamiliar drug in the middle of an emergency. These providers need structured, supervised training on sevoflurane before the transition happens, not after. National anesthesia societies have a direct role to play here, both in alerting their members to what is coming and in developing and delivering the training programs they will need.
The World Federation of Societies of Anaesthesiologists has already called on national and regional health authorities to rapidly budget for and implement a safe transition to sevoflurane. That call deserves a far more urgent response than it has received so far. Countries that stockpiled halothane may have a few additional months of runway. Countries that did not are already running low.
The Philippines and Indonesia have already navigated this shift successfully, and they offer a promising roadmap, including training for local biomedical engineers and anesthesia providers to ensure the transition is safe, practical, and sustainable. The lesson from those experiences is not that transition is easy, but that it is entirely achievable when governments, health systems, and the medical community move together with a shared plan.
The difference between those countries and much of sub-Saharan Africa right now is time and attention. Unlike other urgent global health situations, halothane depletion will not arrive with an outbreak curve or a dramatic headline. It will arrive quietly, one empty bottle at a time, in a hospital where a child needs surgery and the only drug the staff knows how to use is no longer on the shelf. By the time that moment becomes a crisis visible enough to mobilize a response, it will already be too late.
We know this is coming and what the solution requires. The only thing that remains uncertain is whether we will treat it with the urgency it deserves.
Elizabeth Igaga is Senior Director of Program Safety, Smile Train
IPS UN Bureau
VICTORIA, Seychelles, Jun 15 2026 (IPS) - Tomorrow, Africa hosts the Our Ocean Conference on its own shores for the first time, in Mombasa.
This is more than a diplomatic milestone. It is a test of whether we, as Africans, are prepared to safeguard our ocean as a shared heritage and a pillar of our future prosperity.
James Alix Michel
As former President of Seychelles, I had the privilege to help pioneer the blue economy concept in Seychelles and the South West Indian Ocean. That vision, born from our own lived reality, was simple but profound: our economic future depends on a healthy ocean. We must build prosperity not by exhausting marine wealth, but by restoring and protecting it.
Today, as the world gathers in Kenya under the theme “Our Ocean, Our Heritage, Our Future”, that same blue economy vision must guide Africa’s choices. The theme is not a slogan to open a conference; it is a call to re imagine the relationship between our societies and the sea. It demands that we treat the ocean as a living heritage we hold in trust, not a frontier for short term extraction.
Earlier this year, together with Dona Bertarelli, we called for a moratorium on deep sea mining and for stronger protection of Africa’s ocean. We did so in anticipation of the Mombasa conference, knowing that the decisions taken there – or avoided there – will echo across our continent and far beyond. Africa’s voice on the ocean has to be heard clearly, and our commitments will be judged not by the elegance of our words, but by the protections that reach people and nature.
Deep sea mining crystallises what is at stake. The deep ocean is one of the last largely unknown frontiers on our planet. It supports ecosystems that have taken millennia to form and that play roles in global processes we are only beginning to understand. To open this fragile realm to industrial mining without robust, independent science and effective governance would be to gamble with consequences we cannot foresee and cannot reverse.
For Africa, the risks are even more acute. Many of our states are still building their scientific and regulatory capacities. Many of our coastal communities and small scale fishers already face pressure from climate change, pollution and overfishing. To layer the uncertain impacts of deep sea mining on top of these existing stresses would be reckless.
This is why I support a precautionary pause on deep sea mining. Precaution is not anti development. It is responsible leadership in a time of profound uncertainty. It says: we will not mortgage the ocean that sustains us for promises of quick gain, especially when those gains may flow elsewhere while the damage remains with us.
Africa’s seas underpin our food security, our climate resilience, our blue economies, our cultures and our identities as ocean peoples. They are the living foundation for millions of coastal and island communities across the continent, from the Western Indian Ocean to the Atlantic and Mediterranean shores. To treat them as mere repositories of minerals is to ignore their true value and the rights of those who depend on them.
As leaders, negotiators and experts gather in Mombasa, I believe Africa should speak with one clear, principled message.
First, our ocean is not a frontier for unchecked extraction, but a heritage we hold in trust. Decisions taken in Mombasa must respect the ocean’s ecological limits and recognise the special vulnerabilities and rights of small island developing states and coastal nations.
Second, any activity in the deep sea must proceed only when independent science shows it will not cause irreversible harm. That means investing in African and global scientific capacity and listening to evidence, not to pressure for rapid exploitation.
Third, ocean decisions must prioritise coastal communities, small scale fishers, women and youth, and the countries that depend on the sea every day. The benefits of a blue economy must be shared fairly, and its governance must be inclusive. Communities on the frontlines of change must be at the centre of decision making, not at the margins.
From Seychelles, we know that it is possible to chart a different course. Through marine spatial planning, marine protected areas, innovative financing and a strong commitment to conservation, we have shown that protecting the ocean can go hand in hand with creating opportunities for our people. The blue economy is not a theory for us. It is a lived pathway, built through hard choices and long term vision.
From Mombasa, Africa now has a chance to lead. True ocean leadership requires more than ambitious speeches. It requires restraint as well as innovation, protection as well as investment. It demands that we say “not yet” when the science is uncertain and the risks are too great. It asks us to measure success not only in money raised, but in coral reefs saved, fish stocks rebuilt and communities strengthened.
The Our Ocean Conference was created to move the world from promises to action. Let us ensure that the action that emerges from Mombasa honours its theme: “Our Ocean, Our Heritage, Our Future.” Let us ensure that the legacy of this conference is a safer ocean for Africa and for the world, not new risks passed on to our children.
From Victoria to Mombasa, from Seychelles to the African mainland, our message should be united and firm: Africa’s ocean is not for sacrifice. It is for stewardship. It is for our people. And it is for our future.
James Alix Michel is the former President of the Republic of Seychelles and founder of the James Michel Foundation.
IPS UN Bureau
MEXICO CITY, Jun 15 2026 (IPS) - The construction of an elevated pedestrian bridge connecting central and southern Mexico City –one of roughly 2,000 urban works tied to the 2026 FIFA World Cup, began last October, and, with only days to go before the tournament’s kickoff, remains unfinished.
When work broke ground, the Mexican capital, one of three host cities in this Latin American country, had no environmental plan in place –a requirement under the sustainability framework of the International Federation of Association Football (FIFA), the sport’s global governing body.
The 2026 World Cup spans three North American nations –Canada, the United States and Mexico, where the opening match was played last Thursday 11th at the iconic Estadio Azteca, now officially named Banorte Stadium, in Mexico City.
The unfinished bridge is not an isolated case, as it reflects the broader dynamic in Mexico City, where the local administration has launched some 2,000 construction projects ahead of the tournament, accelerating preparations throughout 2025 for a metropolis of nine million residents –23 million including greater metropolitan areas–.
The 2026 World Cup is the largest in history, featuring 48 teams, 104 matches across 16 cities in Canada, the United States, and Mexico. It is also set to be the most polluting ever, according to two recent studies
The two other Mexican host venues face comparable shortfalls. Zapopan, neighboring Guadalajara in the western Jalisco state, and Guadalupe, on the outskirts of Monterrey in northern Nuevo León, have environmental plans riddled with gaps and not designed for mass events like a World Cup.
In all three cases, sustainability became an afterthought. The absolute priority was speed – ensuring completion before the opening whistle.
FIFA’s sustainability strategy encompasses the social, environmental, economic and governance pillars, and covers all three phases of tournament organization: preparation, staging and post-event activities, from strategy development through to the final sustainability and human rights report. FIFA, headquartered in Zürich, requires host cities to integrate environmental and human rights into their planning.
The strategy includes the prevention and mitigation of adverse environmental impacts, as well as measures to protect the ecosystems and address environmental degradation and its consequences on human rights.
The plan also stipulates protections for groups or populations facing disproportionate risks associated with the World Cup environmental footprint, addressing potential environmental risks related to the tournament’s organization, and tackling the effects tied to modifications made during its preparation.
Its environmental pillar comprises energy efficiency, waste reduction, city-level transport planning, impact prevention and mitigation. However, the strategy does not establish a specific carbon budget or an updated emissions estimate for the tournament.
The environmental factor is critical due to issues such as waste generation and water scarcity –common challenges across all three Mexican cities, as well as ongoing construction projects, particularly in Mexico City.
This reporter filed dozens of public information requests to agencies across all three host municipalities. None possessed estimates for carbon dioxide (CO₂) emissions –the human-generated gas responsible for global warming, energy consumption, traffic volume, waste generation, water use or public transport ridership tied to the World Cup.
The gaps extended across virtually every relevant institution: Mexico’s Office of the Presidency; Mexico City’s Mayor’s Office; the capital’s secretaries for Mobility, Environment and Water Management; local public transit services; and the boroughs of Coyoacán and Tlalpan have no records of these measurements.
The same was true in Jalisco, where the state General Secretary of Government, the Secretaries of Environment and Territorial Development, the general coordination offices of Municipal Services, Public Works, Mobility and Transport, and Strategic Growth and Economic Development; the State Water Commission, the Inter-municipal Water and Sanitation Services System, and Guadalajara and Zapopan local governments confirmed they had no such projections. In Nuevo León, the pattern repeated itself: state and municipal environment and mobility agencies, along with the Monterrey water utility, have failed to produce these projections.
Gabriela Cuevas, a former senator from the opposition National Action Party (PAN) now serving as the presidential delegate for the World Cup, told this reporter her schedule was full and referred the inquiry to the Federal Attorney General for Environmental Protection (Profepa). In a June 4 appearance at President Claudia Sheinbaum’s morning press conference, Cuevas asserted Mexico had met all FIFA requirements. FIFA did not respond to a request for comment.
The Mayor’s Office referred inquiries to the Secretary of Territorial Management, whose communications department stated that the matter fell outside its jurisdiction.
This silence is no accident; the government’s priority is the absolute success of the competition, overshadowing improvisations, mistakes, and complaints.
Streets flooded by heavy rains in the Santa Úrsula neighborhood, in southern Mexico City, home to the Banorte Stadium (formerly Azteca), which will host five World Cup matches.
Credit: Emilio Godoy
Sources consulted for this article doubt on the environmental credentials and the necessity of many of the projects, while also denouncing a lack of public consultation to affected communities in several cases.
Rubén Ramírez, Santa Úrsula local community’s traditional authority –where Banorte Stadium stands, said the works fail to address the area’s most pressing crises, such as water availability, mobility, and the unchecked surge in construction.
“From the two World Cups that have been held (in Mexico), they have made millions, while the town has been left behind”, he said, referring to the 1970 and 1986 tournaments, both of which featured prominently the then-Azteca Stadium.
Mexico City legal framework requires authorities to consult indigenous and traditional communities before carrying out works on their territories –a requirement that was not met in the World Cup preparations, residents say. Locals have also complained of inadequate information and no meaningful response to their concerns.
Amid water shortages, a lack of green spaces, and poor mobility, the Santa Úrsula neighborhood has lived in the shadow of the stadium for half a century, but nothing has compared to this tournament. Its narrow streets are now bracing for thousands of visitors and dozens of public transit units in the so-called “Last Mile” corridor to the arena.
Alejandro Cerezo, who lives within the area of influence of the modernized stadium, considers the works to be mere “showcase projects” with no real environmental benefit.
“They didn’t build infrastructure. The right to mobility is restricted by road closures. It’s their plan, they (the government) execute it, and for everything else, there’s no consultation”, said Cerezo, a human rights defender.
In April, with dozens of projects already underway, Mexico City Mayor Clara Brugada unveiled the “Green World Cup: With Fair Play, the Planet Wins” –a ten-point initiative covering recycling, clean air and sustainable food.
Furthermore, in March, she had announced a Human Rights Agenda for the capital ahead of the tournament, comprising more than 100 actions under six headings, including mobility, non-discrimination, diversity and transparency.
One of these pillars, dubbed “Green Pitch” (Cancha Verde), supports economic, social, cultural, and environmental rights, with an emphasis on promoting circular economy principles and waste reduction.
The capital government has painted the city purple –the city government’s colour of presumed feminist alignment, and has plastered images of axolotls on every corner. The species, endemic to Mexico City, is critically endangered. For the Brugada administration, its ubiquitous image serves as a proxy for environmental credibility.
The true color is gray, the dye of the concrete poured across the city. Simply inserting the words “green” or “environmental” into every official message has not, by itself, made this World Cup any greener.
Mexico City, Guadalupe, and Zapopan—which expect to receive over five million visitors—have focused their efforts exclusively on projects surrounding the stadiums and the transit infrastructure needed to reach them: roadways and public transportation.
The Mexican capital has also tackled hydraulic works, rainwater capture, street lighting, pedestrian mobility and the rehabilitation of avenues surrounding the stadium, which will host five matches. Larger projects include the renovation of the international airport and an upgrade to one Metro public transit system line.
Across all three cities, the population breathes polluted air, faces water access issues, and copes with massive waste generation.
Government propaganda for the soccer World Cup in southern Mexico City. The capital administration has painted the public space purple and covered it with images of the axolotl, an endangered endemic species. However, the ecological credentials of the tournament preparations are nowhere to be seen.
Credit: Emilio Godoy
Guadalupe, Nuevo León –home to BBVA Stadium, which will host four matches — has no specific plan for large-scale events that incorporates environmental and human rights obligations, no equity or environmental justice framework, and no quantifiable targets for emissions, renewable energy or carbon footprint reduction.
The town, which has 635,718 residents –while the Monterrey metropolitan area counts 5.32 million, has a regulation for stationary emission sources. Its Article 129 sets specific environmental guidelines for collection centers and sport fields, as well as frameworks for waste management, ecosystem protection and public participation.
The Guadalupe Programme, announced in 2025, includes cleanup actions, paving, reforestation, improvements to parks and plazas, as well as traffic safety campaigns. The local administration announced a mobility plan in May –one month before kick-off. Civil society organizations had already flagged poor public transport planning in February.
In Zapopan, home to Akron Stadium (host for four games) and located near Guadalajara, the Municipal Climate Action Programme lacks an environmental justice approach, a human rights-environment nexus and any assessment of cumulative impacts from the tournament. Furthermore, it is not designed for large-scale international events like the World Cup.
On the positive side, its ban on single-use plastics and polystyrene in commercial establishments represents a concrete step toward tournament sustainability.
In response to an FOIA request, the municipal council said it was still calculating greenhouse gas emissions and waste projections.
Over the course of this year, human rights organizations have recorded at least 15 protests over mobility issues in Guadalajara, whose metropolitan area totals 5.32 million residents, while Zapopan has 1.58 million.
“There are impacts from the closure of public spaces, not just from construction. We don’t know the environmental impact of the works”, said Denise Montiel, the Centro de Justicia para la Paz y el Desarrollo director, a Guadalajara-based NGO.
The construction of a public electric bus line –originally conceived as a metro track, began in 2025 without local permits. The lane links Guadalajara’s airport to the metropolitan area, with a stop at the stadium.
Water for Whom?Water scarcity is among the most critical issues across all three host cities. Six NGOs warn that consumption could rise 40 to 60 percent during the contest in the three metropolises.
In Mexico City, where one in four households does not receive water daily and nearly four in ten liters are lost to leaks, an estimated 15,000 additional visitors could require some 2,250 cubic meters (m3) of water per day.
Guadalajara faces a similar crisis, as three of the four aquifers supplying the city suffer from a deficit because extraction outpaces recharge. It is estimated that an additional 18 000 people could require nearly 2700 m3 of water per day.
Monterrey is no different. All four of its supply aquifers are in the red, and the city carries a permanent deficit of 2.1 m3 between supply and demand. An estimated 15 000 additional visitors could require daily some 2250 m3.
The Dirtiest CupThe 2026 World Cup is the largest in history, featuring 48 teams, 104 matches across 16 cities in Canada, the United States, and Mexico. It is also set to be the most polluting ever, according to two recent studies.
The 2026 tournament is expected to generate 7,8 million tons of CO2—double the 2022 Qatar World Cup level of 3.6 million –primarily due to fan travel (nearly 88% of the total) across the 16 venues, according to an analysis by Paris-based climate tech consultancy Greenly. The next largest sources are accommodation and stadium modernization.
Meanwhile, London-based Scientists for Global Responsibility and the non-governmental Environmental Defense Fund put the figure even higher, at nine million tonnes.
FIFA has committed itself to halving its climate emissions by 2030 and achieving net-zero carbon emissions by 2040, but this commitment applies to the organization as a whole, rather than to individual competitions. Little evidence of progress has emerged from net-zero tracking platforms. FIFA is expected to rely again on carbon offsets, as it did for Qatar 2022.
In 2023, the Swiss Fairness Commission –Switzerland’s self-regulatory body for advertising and communications, found FIFA’s claim that Qatar 2022 was the first fully carbon-neutral World Cup to be unsubstantiated.
Even before it is kicked, FIFA and the three Mexican host cities have already fouled the ball.
Jun 15 2026 (IPS) - When G7 leaders arrive in Evian-les-Bains this month, France will host more than another summit. It will host a test of whether rich-country coordination can still solve problems that no country can manage alone. Aid budgets are shrinking, debt-service bills are crowding out investment, climate shocks are damaging infrastructure, and private capital remains scarce and expensive where it is needed most.
France has rightly made reducing global imbalances a priority of its G7 presidency. The G7 must show how finance should move differently and with global impact.
The urgent focus is development finance. G7 ministers have acknowledged that many partner countries face repeated crises, structural vulnerabilities, rising debt, food insecurity, and humanitarian needs. France has also placed African investment and the role of public development banks on the G7 agenda.
These issues are not separate. A drought that cuts harvests can weaken revenue, raise debt distress, damage health, interrupt schooling, and make the next investment more expensive. The current Ebola outbreak reminds us how vulnerable we all are to these crises.
The current global financial architecture was built for a world that believed growth could be separated from ecology, projects from systems, and risk from resilience. That world is gone
The dominant development finance paradigm treats each problem in its own box. The world no longer works that way.
That is why the global financial architecture needs a deeper reset; it should build a country’s capacity to withstand shocks and grow over time. Investments should work together. A solar plant that cannot feed a resilient grid, a road washed away by the next flood, or a hospital without reliable water, power, and social services support may look good in a project document and still fail the economy.
First, the world needs a better measure of wealth. GDP is useful, but incomplete. It counts activity; it does not tell us whether a country is building or consuming the assets on which future prosperity depends. A forest cleared for short-term export can raise GDP, and so can rebuilding after a flood.
Neither means that a country is becoming richer if its soils, water, skills, and institutional trust are deteriorating. A reset should ask whether produced assets, natural systems, people’s capabilities, and public institutions are becoming stronger together.
The practical step is not abstract. Finance ministries could require comprehensive wealth impact statements. When a government considers a debt-financed power system, port, irrigation program, or disaster-risk loan, it should show not only the likely effect on deficits and growth, but also the likely impact on water security, land-use management, public health, skills, and future disaster losses.
Creditors and rating agencies should look at the same evidence. A country that protects floodplains, strengthens schools, and reduces energy vulnerability is making itself a safer borrower, even if those gains remain invisible in conventional accounts.
Second, the world needs to appraise investment portfolios, not isolated projects. This is where many well-intentioned plans underperform. A seawall without drainage and mangrove protection may shift risk rather than reduce it.
Climate-smart agriculture without storage, cold chains, and roads leaves farmers exposed. Solar panels without grid upgrades and reliable payment systems can leave generations stranded. The question should not be which project has the highest standalone return, but which combination of investments most improves resilience, productivity, and long-term wealth in the public interest.
This approach would also help mobilize private capital. Investors are often told that developing countries are too risky. But part of that risk reflects weak systems: unreliable power, poor maintenance, exposed supply chains, thin insurance, and fragile public finances.
Coordinated ublic investments should be used to lower these risks at the portfolio level by preparing interconnected pipelines, funding data, providing guarantees, supporting local-currency finance, and strengthening early-warning systems and building the institutions that keep assets working when shocks hit. Capacity building would not be a charity; it would be risk reduction.
Third, states and markets need clearer rules for allocating capital. For policymakers, this means that budgets, debt strategies, and industrial plans should include the assets and vulnerabilities they create. For multilateral development banks, the IMF, credit-rating agencies, and regulators, it means treating climate adaptation, nature protection, social capability, and debt sustainability as one conversation, not four.
Country platforms should bring them into a single investment plan with clear priorities and accountability. For investors, assets that protect water, power, food systems, health, and skills should be viewed as infrastructure for returns, not as ESG decoration.
The G7 can make this pivot at Evian. It could agree that major development-finance packages should include wealth impact statements; that multilateral development-bank country strategies should use portfolio appraisal; that public development banks should standardize guarantees and project preparation for resilience; that debt workouts and new lending terms should reward verified investments that reduce future losses; and that private co-financing should be linked to transparent outcomes. These reforms simply require an acceptance by institutions to judge success differently.
None of this is anti-market, anti-growth, or anti-finance. It is pro-accuracy, pro-stability, and pro-prosperity. The central task is simple: build a financial architecture that strengthens society’s productive capacity and the planet that sustains it, not that merely flatters the next quarter’s accounts.
The current global financial architecture was built for a world that believed growth could be separated from ecology, projects from systems, and risk from resilience. That world is gone.
France’s G7 presidency offers a chance to replace it with a financial system that measures real wealth, funds investments that work together, and rewards countries for reducing the risks that threaten everyone. That is how we move from fragmented finance to resilient prosperity and from short-term gain to long-term global public investment.
Hyginus ‘Gene’ Leon is the Executive Director of the Development Bank for Resilient Prosperity and was the sixth President of Caribbean Development Bank (CDB). Simon Reid-Henry, PhD is a Research Professor at the Peace Research Institute Oslo.
PORTLAND, USA, Jun 15 2026 (IPS) - AI chatbots and AI companions designed to simulate human-like conversation and provide relationships and companionship through generative artificial intelligence (AI) have rapidly evolved from science fiction into everyday reality.
Globally, approximately one billion people – about 12% of the world’s population – now use generative AI chatbots monthly, with usage approaching parity among men and women.
Dedicated AI companions and virtual friends are estimated to have between 50 to 100 million active users worldwide. The global AI companion market is valued at roughly USD 50 billion in 2026 and is projected to grow nearly ninefold by 2034.
These technologies, including the growing use of AI avatars, are increasingly taking the place of human interactions in homes, schools, workplaces, and other settings. Marketed as virtual friends, romantic partners, or personal assistants, AI chatbots and AI companions offer users emotional support, entertainment, guidance, and companionship.
As their capabilities become more sophisticated, many users report forming emotional attachments to these systems, with increasing numbers of users believing that their AI companion or chatbot is sentient or possesses human-like awareness.
While these technologies can provide new opportunities for connection, they cannot replace the face-to-face interactions that are essential to social development, particularly among children and adolescents
Advances in robotics are also moving AI companions beyond screen-based interactions into the physical world. With increasingly human-like appearances, behaviors, and communication abilities, these systems are becoming more sophisticated and human-like in the way they interact with people.
Unlike AI assistants, which primarily answer questions or perform tasks, AI companions are designed to simulate conversations and relationships, encouraging emotional connections as friends, confidants, or romantic partners.
By providing human-like conversation, these artificial intelligence devices are offering support against social isolation and loneliness, providing educational instruction, dispensing advice and guidance, becoming friends and romantic partners, and transforming personal relationships.
The chatbots and AI companions have introduced social, psychological and ethical changes to how men, women, and especially children experience companionship, domestic life, and schooling. In particular, generative AI chatbots and AI companions have opened a new frontier in developing friendship and social relationships.
Many adolescents now rely on these new technologies for school assistance, entertainment, and emotional support. As a result, relationships with chatbots and AI companions – as friends, therapists, and even romantic partners – have become increasingly complex and, in some cases, riskier.
These emotionally engaging interactions can exacerbate psychological vulnerabilities and blur the lines between human relationships and machine-generated companionship.
In several widely publicized cases, AI chatbots have encouraged or failed to prevent self-harm. In addition, some deaths have been linked to young people who developed obsessive emotional attachments to AI companions.
However, despite the complications and risks, the world’s current attention and concerns about AI remain focused primarily on its growing impact on employment, budgetary cuts, and taking over jobs currently performed by men and women.
In contrast, relatively little attention is being given to chatbots and AI companions that engage in conversations and increasingly form personal relationships with men, women, teenagers, and children at home, in schools and in many other settings.
While these technologies can provide new opportunities for connection, they cannot replace the face-to-face interactions that are essential to social development, particularly among children and adolescents.
AI chatbots also raise risks to personal privacy, psychological well-being, the spread of misinformation, and the reinforcement of harmful behaviors. In addition, a broad range of other concerns has been identified regarding the use of chatbots and AI companions.
These concerns include delaying social and emotional development among children and teenagers, blurring the distinction between software and reality, encouraging risky behavior, exploiting young people’s emotional needs, reinforcing unhelpful thoughts, distorting users’ sense of reality, and fostering simulated attachments and dependence (Table 1).
Source: Author’s compilation.
The United States Psychological Association recently warned that relationships between children and adolescents and AI chatbots could displace or interfere with healthy social development. The association noted that friendships and social support from other people have long-term benefits for emotional well-being, physical health, and longevity.
Among generative AI chatbots, the leading platforms by market share in May 2026 are generally reported to be ChatGPT, Claude AI, Google Gemini, Microsoft Copilot, Perplexity, and Grok. Several industry analyses place ChatGPT’s share at roughly 50-55%, with Claude AI at about 21% of market share emerging as the second-largest platform (Figure 1).
Source: FirstPageSage.
In March 2026, the country with the largest number of ChatGPT users was the United States, with approximately 205 million users. Following the U.S., the countries with the largest ChatGPT user populations were India, Brazil, Canada, and France (Figure 2).
Source: fatjoe.
It is certainly the case that chatbots and AI companions cannot feel love toward an individual. Nevertheless, hundreds of millions of men, women, and children worldwide are increasingly relying on these technologies for conversation, information, companionship, and non-judgmental interactions.
These technologies may help to address chronic loneliness and social isolation, conditions that have consistently been linked to detrimental effects on physical and mental health and increased risk of premature death. The World Health Organization (WHO) formally recognizes loneliness as a global public health concern, with roughly one in six people worldwide experiencing problematic levels of loneliness.
Chatbots and AI companions can help alleviate loneliness and social isolation by providing readily available conversation and companionship without judgement and expectations. As chatbots, AI companions, and androids become increasingly sophisticated, growing numbers of people are exploring the new forms of emotional connection and intimacy with these technologies.
At the same time, the growing use of chatbots and AI companions for personal relationships raises important social, psychological, ethical, and policy concerns.
Although chatbots and AI companions may help reduce loneliness and social isolation for some users, they also pose risks, especially for children and young people. Because AI systems do not possess genuine empathy and are not trained or licensed as mental health professionals, excessive reliance on them for emotional support may isolate vulnerable individuals and distort perceptions of human relationships.
Debate continues regarding the appropriate level of regulations for these technologies. Some government officials, technology companies, investors, and researchers argue that these new and emerging AI technologies should remain largely unregulated, with people themselves determining how to adapt to these technologies.
Some of the reasons for keeping the development of AI unregulated include: prevents regulatory paralysis; accelerates technological breakthroughs; encourages venture capital investment; maintains global geopolitical competitiveness; promotes national security; prevents market monopolies; benefits national interests; and leads to better lives for men and women.
Others, however, argue that AI chatbot and AI companion technologies need to be regulated in order to protect the mental health of children and young adults; reduce the negative effects of social media and excessive screen time; mitigate risks, deception, bias, discrimination, and misinformation; promote economic stability and fairness; become a public resource; protect human rights and intellectual property; and ensure data privacy.
Among the proposed safeguards and regulations for chats and AI companions are requirements for non-human disclosure, crisis protocols for self-harm, age verification measures, limits on their use in elementary schools, bans on impersonation, and stronger protections for minors.
Fueled in part by technology companies, governments worldwide are moving rapidly to deploy generative AI systems and chatbots in schools, universities, and other settings.
However, the spread of these new AI technologies may pose risks to the development and well-being of children and teenagers, raising concerns among educators, parents, and policymakers. Interactions with AI chatbots, especially when they are intense and prolonged, may contribute to the onset or worsen delusions or mania. Research is also finding that AI companions provide responses that may worsen mental health issues.
Additionally, a recent study reported that reliance on generative AI chatbots may reduce critical thinking engagement in some contexts. Another study has raised concerns that AI chatbots can exploit teenagers’ emotional vulnerabilities, sometimes leading to inappropriate and harmful interactions.
The United States Federation of Teachers recommends “no screens” for children in second grade or younger, and restricting the use of AI chatbots for students in elementary schools. The organization has expressed concerns that excessive screen use may hinder socialization, independent thinking, and critical-thinking development.
The long-term effects of AI chatbots remain uncertain, with researchers just beginning to investigate them. However, classroom teachers and some city officials report that many students are increasingly relying on chatbots for easy answers rather than developing problem-solving and critical-thinking skills.
The U.S. Federation of Teachers has urged elementary schools to avoid using artificial intelligence tools like AI chatbots with students and called for national privacy and safety standards governing AI use in schools.
Research suggests that chatbots and AI companions may pose several risks, particularly for teenagers. Concerns include emotional dependency, declining mental health, harmful interactions, and revealing sensitive personal information, including mental health issues and sexual orientation.
Reliance on chatbots and AI companions for emotional support may also contribute to social isolation and interfere with the development of normal human relationships. Because these technologies are designed to simulate emotional intimacy, they can blur the line between genuine human connections and artificial interactions.
A risk-assessment study found that inappropriate dialogue could be readily elicited from chatbots on topics such as sex, self-harm, violence, drug use, and racial stereotypes, raising concerns about their influence on vulnerable users, particularly children and adolescents.
In conclusion, chatbots and AI companions have rapidly moved from science fiction into everyday life. They increasingly exhibit human-like characteristics, including natural-sounding human voices, memory of past interactions, continuous processing of personal information, apparent preferences, constant availability, and the ability to provide companionship and guidance on personal and social matters.
Public discussion of generative AI has focused largely on employment and job displacement, while less attention has been given to its social, psychological, and ethical effects. As chatbots and AI companions become more capable and widely used, concerns about their impact on the well-being, development, and relationships of young people are likely to become increasingly important for parents, educators, policymakers, and technology developers.
Joseph Chamie is a consulting demographer, a former director of the United Nations Population Division, and author of many publications on population issues.
MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay, Jun 15 2026 (IPS) - When Hungary’s Prime Minister Viktor Orbán lost by a landslide to a unified opposition in April, Turkey’s President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan was watching. The lesson he drew was not that he should be more moderate; it was that he needed to crack down harder. He had already arrested Istanbul Mayor Ekrem İmamoğlu, the opposition Republican People’s Party (CHP)’s leading presidential contender, in March 2025. After Orbán’s defeat, he has accelerated his campaign to fracture the opposition and rewrite the rules before the next election in 2028.
Electoral autocracy
Erdoğan has been in power since 2003. After surviving a coup attempt in July 2016, he used emergency powers to purge the state at scale. Over 150,000 people were detained, fired or suspended from their jobs. Emergency decrees expanded the government’s power to shut down organisations and remove elected officials. A 2017 constitutional referendum, narrowly approved in a campaign that independent observers found deeply flawed, replaced Turkey’s parliamentary system with a hyper-presidential one.
Independent media has been systematically dismantled. Turkey now ranks 163rd out of 180 countries on Reporters Without Borders’ 2026 World Press Freedom Index. Yet elections have continued, and the opposition has continued to win at the municipal level, most strikingly in Istanbul in 2019 and again by an even wider margin in 2024. That residual competitiveness is what Erdoğan is now moving to close.
İmamoğlu had beaten Erdoğan’s candidate in Istanbul twice, was formally nominated as the CHP’s 2028 presidential candidate and polled strongly against Erdoğan nationally. Authorities arrested him on charges of corruption and links with terrorism as his nomination was under way, triggering Turkey’s largest wave of protests in over a decade. A 4,000-page indictment filed in November 2025 sought to sentence him to over 2,000 years in prison. Espionage charges followed in February 2026. His trial began in March amid continuing protests. He remains in prison, and in the 14 months since his arrest, over 500 more people have been detained, including 16 CHP-affiliated mayors.
With İmamoğlu imprisoned, Erdoğan’s next move was to prevent the CHP from consolidating around anyone else. On 21 May, an appeals court annulled the outcomes of the CHP’s 2023 national congress, ejecting the party’s elected leader Özgür Özel, who had raised the CHP to rough parity with Erdoğan’s Justice and Development Party (AKP) in national polls, and reinstating his predecessor Kemal Kılıçdaroğlu, a divisive figure who lost the last presidential election. Özel condemned the ruling as a judicial coup and refused to leave the party’s headquarters. Three days later, riot police stormed in, firing rubber bullets and teargas. The government denied any involvement, implausibly claiming the judiciary had acted independently. The operation was legal in form and political in substance.
Turkey’s constitution limits presidents to two five-year terms, and Erdoğan’s second expires in 2028. In May 2025, he appointed a legal team to draft a new constitution. It seems clear the goal is to extend his eligibility. The AKP and its nationalist allies fall short of the parliamentary threshold required to change the constitution or call a referendum on it. Some analysts believe the government’s recent initiative to end the decades-long conflict with the Kurdistan Workers’ Party is at least partly designed to attract enough parliamentary votes to clear that threshold.
There is a structural reason the stakes are so high. Turkey’s hyper-presidential system means that, unlike Orbán, Erdoğan would have no safe path back from electoral defeat. For him, losing power could mean political extinction. His crackdown is a response to this threat.
Civil society resistance
Turkey’s civil society has, however, not submitted. Huge protests followed İmamoğlu’s arrest. A mass rally marked his 100th day in jail, and people marched again when the CHP headquarters were raided. Most recently, when Erdoğan ordered the closure of Bilgi University, one of Turkey’s oldest liberal academic institutions, students and staff immediately gathered outside to protest. Within two days the government reversed the closure. This illustrated both the extent of Erdoğan’s repressive urges and their limits when met with swift resistance.
The government has responded to protest with blanket bans on public gatherings, social media restrictions and mass arrests. Four days after İmamoğlu’s arrest, at least 1,879 people had been detained. Police repeatedly intervened forcefully, using teargas and detaining protesters and journalists.
Orbán’s downfall has frightened Erdoğan as much as it has inspired the Turkish opposition. He is moving to eliminate the conditions that made it possible. He has got rid of the most credible and unifying opposition candidate, neutralised the main opposition party and is in the process of dismantling what’s left of an electoral architecture that, however tilted, could still allow the opposition to win.
Turkey’s democracy now depends on whether enough people keep showing up, and on whether they can keep resisting Erdoğan’s campaign to dismantle democracy.
Inés M. Pousadela is CIVICUS Head of Research and Analysis, co-director and writer for CIVICUS Lens and co-author of the State of Civil Society Report. She is also a Professor of Comparative Politics at Universidad ORT Uruguay.
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