Aisha, partner since 2023 (Toronto, ON)
This week in charts
China
(Opinion) With China unlikely to see a baby boom, boosting population quality should be the focus
China will join high-income countries such as Japan and South Korea in facing depopulation and it will be replaced by India as the world’s most populous country this year.
In a resource-constrained global environment, a declining population is not necessarily a bad thing. With fewer consumers, there will be a reduction in carbon dioxide emissions, which will benefit the environment.
Attempts to stimulate an increase in the birth rate on the mainland in recent years have had a limited impact as having a small family or being childless has become a way of life among married couples in modern China, whether by choice or as a compromise due to the high costs of raising a child.
Instead, the government should prepare for the challenges of population decline before the population ages further. The most effective way to do this would be to focus on improving the quality of the population and setting up infrastructure to support it.
The government must invest in education and skills training to ensure that the workforce is ready to embrace the transformation from a labour-intensive manufacturing economy to a knowledge-based consumer economy. To maintain a 3 per cent gross domestic product growth rate in the face of an ageing population, there needs to be at least a five-fold increase in labour productivity.
The government needs to improve physical and mental health by reforming the healthcare system. In addition to promoting active ageing, Beijing must encourage the development of healthy living habits, including a balanced diet, and reducing smoking and alcohol consumption to alleviate the pressure on the healthcare system.
The chances of the negative population growth being reversed are slim unless there is a drastic change in the immigration policy to attract foreign talent.
Nearly half of foreign businesses in Hong Kong are planning to relocate
Nearly half of all European businesses in Hong Kong are considering relocating in the next year, according to a new report. Companies cite the local government's extremely strict Covid-19 protocols that mirror those on the mainland.
Among the firms planning to leave, 25% said they would fully relocate out of Hong Kong in the next 12 months, while 24% plan to relocate at least partially. Only 17% of the companies said they don't have any relocation plans for the next 12 months.
The city's "zero Covid" strategy led to severe consequences for businesses and residents, the report from the European Chamber of Commerce said. Hong Kong's "biggest advantage" — its global connectivity and proximity to mainland China —"has been almost completely disabled," the Chamber said.
The European survey released Thursday tracks with a similar report from the American Chamber of Commerce in January, which found that 44% of expats and businesses are likely to leave the city, citing Covid-related restrictions.
"Hong Kong still holds business opportunities but an array of issues, especially draconian travel restrictions and worsening US-China relations, weigh on sentiment," the US report said.
Even without the Covid crisis, headhunters were having trouble bringing talent to Hong Kong because of Beijing's growing oversight of the semiautonomous territory. Massive and at-times violent protests prompted by a Beijing-imposed extradition bill plunged the city into a political crisis in the summer of 2019. A year later, as Covid-19 restrictions kept protesters at bay, China passed a wide-ranging national security law that broadly curtails free speech rights in Hong Kong.
This week's fun finds
Is It Real or Imagined? How Your Brain Tells the Difference.
So “why are we not constantly hallucinating?” asked Nadine Dijkstra, a postdoctoral fellow at University College London. A study she led, recently published in Nature Communications, provides an intriguing answer: The brain evaluates the images it is processing against a “reality threshold.” If the signal passes the threshold, the brain thinks it’s real; if it doesn’t, the brain thinks it’s imagined.
Such a system works well most of the time because imagined signals are typically weak. But if an imagined signal is strong enough to cross the threshold, the brain takes it for reality.
Dijkstra’s study of imagined images was born in the early days of the Covid-19 pandemic, when quarantines and lockdowns interrupted her scheduled work. Bored, she started going through the scientific literature on imagination — and then spent hours combing papers for historical accounts of how scientists tested such an abstract concept. That’s how she came upon a 1910 study conducted by the psychologist Mary Cheves West Perky.
Dijkstra expected that she would find the Perky effect — that when the imagined image matched the projected one, the participants would see the projection as the product of their imagination. Instead, the participants were much more likely to think the image was really there.
Yet there was at least an echo of the Perky effect in those results: Participants who thought the image was there saw it more vividly than the participants who thought it was all their imagination.
The observations suggest that imagery in our mind’s eye and real perceived images in the world do get mixed together, Dijkstra said. “When this mixed signal is strong or vivid enough, we think it reflects reality.” It’s likely that there’s some threshold above which visual signals feel real to the brain and below which they feel imagined, she thinks. But there could also be a more gradual continuum.
The differences between Perky’s findings and Dijkstra’s could be entirely due to differences in their procedures. But they also hint at another possibility: that we could be perceiving the world differently than our ancestors did.
Her study didn’t focus on belief in an image’s reality but was more about the “feeling” of reality, Dijkstra said. The authors speculate that because projected images, video and other representations of reality are commonplace in the 21st century, our brains may have learned to evaluate reality slightly differently than people did just a century ago.
Dijkstra and her team are now working to adapt their experiment to work in a brain scanner. “Now that lockdown is over, I want to look at brains again,” she said.
She eventually hopes to figure out if they can manipulate this system to make imagination feel more real. For example, virtual reality and neural implants are now being investigated for medical treatments, such as to help blind people see again. The ability to make experiences feel more or less real, she said, could be really important for such applications.
Why You Should Actually Let Yourself Eat the Foods You ‘Can’t Be Trusted’ Around
Although there’s limited research on so-called food addiction in humans, rodent studies on the subject suggest that the over-consumption of sugar, for example, tends to happen when restriction is involved: A 2016 review published in the European Journal of Nutrition found that only rats who are food-deprived and/or have intermittent (i.e. not constant) access to sugar seem to binge on it.
It’s impossible to say whether the same thing is true for humans, but one (very small) 2011 study published in the American Journal of Clinical Nutrition had some notable findings: 32 women were assigned to one of two groups, both of which ate mac and cheese five times total. One group ate it once per week for five weeks; the other ate it daily for five days in a row. Researchers measured the participants’ calorie intake and found that while the once-a-week group ate more of the mac and cheese as the trial progressed, the daily eaters actually ate less. Their explanation for this? “Habituation,” a phenomenon in which repeated exposure to something decreases the strength of your response to it.
“When you’re deprived of a certain food, or food in general, your sensory system tends to get more aroused to make food look, smell, and taste better,” Kate Sutton, LCMHC, a therapist and certified intuitive eating counselor based in Raleigh, North Carolina, tells SELF. It’s normal to experience intense cravings for food when you’re not getting adequate calories and to specifically crave foods that you’re avoiding or heavily limiting.
But as the research above suggests, despite the instinct to keep a certain food at arm’s length (or even further), the best way to get over such out-of-control feelings might actually be to expose yourself to that food over and over again, even if it feels uncomfortable (or downright terrifying) at first.
In brickspeak, Louis is an Adult Fan of Lego — known as AFOLs, for short — and among the most ardent. His grandmother gave him his first set, the Lego Clone Scout Walker, for his sixth birthday, igniting a singular passion that hasn't let up since. Under his handle Republicattak (the missing "c" a childhood misspelling that gnaws at him), he shares his custom Star Wars-themed builds on his YouTube channel. Unlike many aspiring influencers, he keeps his identity private, other than his first name, to avoid embarrassment at work. "Otherwise, it'll be very awkward," he tells me over Zoom in his thick French accent. "Because in my videos, I'm very much like, basically, a grown man playing with toys."
On that October day, his toys were everywhere. Colorful parts littered the walkway outside his house — a green baseplate here, a yellow sloped brick there. As Louis slowly followed the trail, he recognized chunks of his most beloved builds: a broken cockpit from his UCS X-Wing, the black treads ripped from his Clone Turbo Tank, a limbless Stormtrooper Minifigure staring helplessly from inside its helmet. "It was like a horror movie," he recalls, "but for Lego."
His cash and laptops were untouched, but the Millennium Falcon his parents had given him was gone; so was the original Clone Scout Walker from his grandma. Most painful of all, the intruders had destroyed the massive, original Lego opus he'd been building over nights and long weekends for 10 months, a 35,000-piece installation he called "Imperial Gate."
"I really feel like the whole part of my stomach is missing," Louis recalls. "It is just so much that I'm just collapsing on the ground. I will just crush my head against the floor. Then I will just stand up and crush my head against the walls and just screaming. I will just run outside screaming. I will maybe scream for at least 10, 20 minutes."
That afternoon, he taped what he said was his final YouTube message. "I don't know what I'm going to do," he said into his cellphone camera, blinking back tears. "It really was my passion. That's the end of this channel."