Library is Rescuing Historical Treasures Trapped on Old Floppy Disks from the ‘Digital Dark Ages’ (2026-04-10T13:16:00+05:30)

Credit – Cambridge University Library Cambridge University archivists are leading an important project to extract and conserve valuable information from floppy disks before they become unusable. The initiative began when the archive received a box of 5.25-inch floppy disks from a DOS-formatted computer that belonged to none other than physicist Steven Hawking, who was able to use early computers despite his disability from ALS. The challenges a group of archivists encountered when they attempted to read the disks helped them realize how vulnerable this funny, briefly adopted technology which predate compact disks is to the ravages of time, and how a clock was ticking to get important information off them before they became unusable. It spawned a project, aptly named in our current pop-culture environment: “Future Nostalgia.” Before the term was chased from the historical lexicon with torches and pitchforks, “the Dark Ages” were used to describe the period in European history when primary source writings are particularly scant—between the fall of Rome and the Middle Ages. The Future Nostalgia project presents the case that the late 20th century may form a sort of dark ages when historians in the future look back on our time and see a big hole in early computer writings. Certainly books and magazines and newspapers are available a-plenty, but if floppy disks and other early technologies aren’t kept in good order, early computer writings may seem sparce to future historians. Floppy disks present numerous challenges to archivists, among which were the multiple formats they were built and coded for. “There wasn’t one system that dominated the market,” explains Leontien Talboom, a member of the Cambridge University Library’s digital preservation team who is leading the project. That means that as many as a dozen different early computing systems are needed to read the full spectrum of floppy disk formats, and it’s not always straight forward finding these machines. Nor is it straightforward that the disks themselves are readable. They may be moldy, if stowed away in an attic for example. Iron oxide on the surface of the plastic may corrode material away. It can also lose its magnetism, preventing it being from read entirely. That is why Talboom and her team are urgently trying to acquire collections of noteworthy writers or authors—like Hawking—and further digitize them from their early floppy disk format. So far, in addition to Hawking, they’ve uncovered abstract lists by the poet Nicholas Moore, articles from a society of the paranormal, and more. “Most of the donations we get are from people who are either retiring or passing away,” Talboom told the BBC. “That means we’re seeing more and more things from the era of personal computing.” Not only are donations coming from those retired or passed, but so is a lot of information on how to use different formats. An example comes from the archivists’ work with a set of floppy disks that contained speeches and letters with constituents of Neil Kinnock, a UK labor party leader in the 1980s. “They were written on the Diamond Word processor,” explained Chris Knowles, a participant in the Future Nostalgia project.” There’s not much information about that system out there. There are lots of fan communities around any system that had games, and archivists often borrow their tools. But where that doesn’t exist, it’s more awkward.”Work continues, and Talboom is more and more eager to have the public’s involvement with the project. She sees it as a win-win partnership: owners of floppy disks get to see what kind of materials their old colleagues or family members wrote onto them, and Future Nostalgia gets more material, but also more knowledge and practice about how to access and preserve floppy disk formats and the material they contain. Library is Rescuing Historical Treasures Trapped on Old Floppy Disks from the ‘Digital Dark Ages

An ‘AI afterlife’ is now a real option – but what becomes of your legal status? (2026-04-02T13:30:00+05:30)

ziphaus/Unsplash Wellett Potter, University of New England Would you create an interactive “digital twin” of yourself that can communicate with loved ones after your death? Generative artificial intelligence (AI) has made it possible to seemingly resurrect the dead. So-called griefbots or deathbots – an AI-generated voice, video avatar or text-based chatbot trained on the data of a deceased person – proliferate in the booming digital afterlife industry, also known as grief tech. Deathbots are usually created by the bereaved, often as part of the grieving process. But there are also services that allow you to create a digital twin of yourself while you’re still alive. So why not create one for when you’re gone? As with any application of new technology, the idea of such digital immortality raises many legal questions – and most of them don’t have a clear answer. Your AI afterlife To create an AI digital twin of yourself, you can sign up for a service that provides this feature, and answer a series of questions to provide data about who you are. You also record stories, memories and thoughts in your own voice. You might also upload your visual likeness in the form of images or video. The AI software then creates a digital replica based on that training data. After you die and the company is notified of your death, your loved ones can interact with your digital twin. But in doing this, you’re also delegating agency to a company to create a digital AI simulation of yourself after death. From the get go, this is different to using AI to “resurrect” a dead person who can’t consent to this. Instead, a living person is essentially licensing data about themselves to an AI afterlife company before they’ve died. They’re engaging in a deliberate, contractual creation of AI-generated data for posthumous use. However, there are many unanswered questions. What about copyright? What about your privacy?. What happens if the technology becomes outdated or the business closes? Does the data get sold on? Does the digital twin also “die”, and what effect does this have for a second time on the bereaved? What does the law say? Currently, Australian law doesn’t protect a person’s identity, voice, presence, values or personality as such. In contrast to the United States, Australians don’t have a general publicity or personality right. This means, for an Australian citizen, there’s currently no legal right for you to own or control your identity – the use of your voice, image or likeness. In short, the law doesn’t recognise a proprietary right in most of the unique things that make you “you”. Under copyright law, the concept of your presence or self is abstract, much like an idea is. Copyright doesn’t offer protection for “your presence” or “the self” as such. That’s because there has to be material form in specific categories of works for copyright to exist: these are tangible things, such as books or photos. However, typed responses or the voice recordings submitted to the AI for training are material. This means the data used to train the AI to create your digital twin would likely be protectable. But fully autonomous AI generated output is unlikely to have any copyright attached to it. Under current Australian law, it would likely be considered authorless because it didn’t originate from the “independent intellectual effort” of a human, but from a machine. Moral rights in copyright protect a creator’s reputation against false attribution and against derogatory treatment of their work. However, they wouldn’t apply to a digital twin. This is because moral rights attach to actual works created by a human author, not any AI-generated output. So where does that leave your digital twin? Although it’s unlikely copyright applies to AI-generated output, in their terms and conditions companies may assert ownership of the AI-generated data, users may be granted rights in outputs, or the company may reserve extensive reuse rights. It’s something to look out for. There are ethical risks, too Using AI to make digital copies of people – living or dead – also raises ethical risks. For example, even though the training data for your digital twin might be locked upon your death, others will be accessing it in the future by interacting with it. What happens if the technology misrepresents the deceased person’s morals and ethics? As AI is usually probabilistic and based on algorithms, there may be risk of creep or distortion, where the responses drift over time. The deathbot could lose its resemblance to the original person. It’s not clear what recourse the bereaved may have if this happens. AI-enabled deathbots and digital twins can help people grieve, but the effects so far are largely anecdotal – more study is needed. At the same time, there’s potential for bereaved relatives to form a dependence on the AI version of their loved one, rather than processing their grief in a healthier way. If the outputs of AI-powered grief tech cause distress, how can this be managed, and who will be held responsible? The current state of the law clearly shows more regulation is needed in this burgeoning grief tech industry. Even if you consent to the use of your data for an AI digital twin after you die, it’s difficult to anticipate new technologies changing how your data is used in the future. For now, it’s important to always read the terms and conditions if you decide to create a digital afterlife for yourself. After all, you are bound by the contract you sign. Wellett Potter, Senior Lecturer in Law, University of New England This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

The fading line between the digital world and reality (2026-04-02T13:29:00+05:30)

Photo Courtesy: Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay | For representational purpose only Tashvi Aneja, First Year BTech Student, Plaksha University: Scrolling aimlessly, swiping subconsciously, and clicking with every blink - a revolutionized digital world now surrounds us so densely that our ambitions, fears and identities are governed as much by code and pixels as they are by physical experiences. Picture this: a world where you can no longer tell whether a memory or conversation was real; where you're not sure if a face or friendship is simply Artificial Intelligence, where the digital version of yourself feels more admired and authentic than your real reflection. This is not fiction. The boundary between the digital world and reality is fading rapidly. The old saying 'seeing is believing' no longer holds. Many of us already live in overlapping universes, where the digital world does not just co-exist but might be overshadowing our physical world. AI has rapidly become an uncredited co-author across text, images, video, and web content, generating highly personalized work at scale. Though it recombines existing data rather than creating truly original ideas, it produces convincing authenticity. Automated Insights alone generated over one billion algorithmic stories in 2014, and today many top search results contain AI-written text. As readers struggle to distinguish human from machine output and detection tools remain unreliable, questions of trust, credibility, and authorship grow more urgent in a world where digital and human creation increasingly blur. Human decisions stem from past experiences and knowledge, which leave digital footprints that algorithms capture as data proxies to influence and engineer what we see, feel, and do, creating an echo chamber that reinforces existing views and blocks alternative ideas, all disguised as personalization. Our social media feeds, news suggestions, and video recommendations are cleverly curated by opaque algorithmic systems which push filtered narratives. This biased content online often grabs users' attention and molds perceptions without anyone questioning the complete picture. We believe this to be real and factual without realizing that our remote is in the hands of a system, a system which has become our master. Earlier youth identities were built internally; now they are externally anchored. Youth identity crisis is becoming increasingly prevalent, with most of it shaped by a digital ecosystem where their sense of self is constantly split across platforms. A sheer number of digital spaces creates feelings of self-fragmentation and a lack of temporal narrative coherence, making it hard for adolescents to form a stable identity. Their focus on what gets them attention instead of what truly reflects them, causes constant shape shifting to please others or fit algorithmic trends. They end up managing multiple personas and split their online and offline selves. As they attempt to pull together the scattered pieces of themselves across several platforms and media, they struggle to understand and define their true selves, contributing to imposter syndrome amongst individuals, particularly youth. Imposter syndrome is also magnified by algorithms for content creators. Creators may feel that their success is a byproduct of virality or algorithmic luck, not genuine talent. They ask themselves, "Am I good, or am I just performing for the algorithm?" They often feel the pressure to stay relevant and present an ever-sharpened version of themselves, even if it may not be their authentic selves. Focusing engagement to please others masks their real identity with their digital persona. Additionally, with the growing use of AI, authenticity comes into question for content creators. Beyond imposter syndrome, increasing online interactions raise other mental health concerns, too. FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) is not new, but over-reliance on digital world super charges it. A study found that exposure to idealised athletic images reduced self-esteem in 37% of participants, particularly young women who frequently compare themselves to influencers. Constantly scrolling through curated highlights makes ordinary life feel inadequate, ignoring that social media mostly showcases highs, not lows. With AR filters and deepfakes amplifying perfection, comparison intensifies. Profile curation, unrealistic standards, and the pursuit of validation tie self-worth to likes and followers rather than real achievements. This fuels anxiety, depression, sleep disorders, and a deep erosion of self-confidence. Moreover, since a large chunk of our thinking happens in digital context, neural pathways adapt and optimize information processing, decision making, and problem solving for digital media. While some argue that it improves multitasking, it also declines focus and inhibits deep and critical thinking. Eventually, our real life begins to echo the digital one, and vice versa. The real world is no longer just mirroring the digital world, it is amplifying the crisis of identity and algorithmic control. Chatbots and algorithms reflect our interests and behaviours back to us, creating feedback loops where online trends begin shaping offline actions. Search for one product and you're soon surrounded by ads and recommendations. Over time, this repetition does more than guide behaviour, it shapes perception, making digital cues feel more real than lived experience. As dependency grows, the line between perception and presence blurs, and offline life begins to mirror digital patterns. Our digital footprint feeds predictive systems, shifting thought from self-directed to system-conditioned. Immersive technologies like VR intensify this effect, as the brain records virtual input as real, sometimes creating altered or false memories. Reality is no longer binary but a spectrum, where people increasingly live, choose, and connect within hybrid digital-physical spaces. As more interactions happen online through screens, filters, and bots, trust weakens. We often can't tell real from fake. Is it edited or genuine? We miss tone and body language, so misunderstandings grow. In virtual friendships or relationships, it's hard to know what's truly genuine, making trust feel uncertain. With the rise of fake and synthesised content, we are forced to question what is real anymore. Hyper-realistic videos, AI-generated conversations, and filtered identities blur authenticity to the point where trust feels fragile. Suspicion seeps into everything, memories, friendships, even our own perceptions. We now look at a striking photograph or a beautifully written essay and assume it must be AI-made. Instead of appreciating genuine talent, we question its authenticity. This raises a chilling possibility: are we losing the ability to recognise what is real, or worse, to trust ourselves? Individuals should audit their digital footprint, limit screen time, prioritise real connections, and stay mindful of how algorithms shape perception. Educators must strengthen digital literacy and teach students to spot deepfakes and cope healthily. Creators should build trust through authenticity and transparency about AI use. Parents need to model balanced tech habits and foster safe spaces at home. Tech companies must focus on ethical design and user control, while policymakers enforce safeguards for fairness, safety, accountability, and youth protection.Today, we stand at a crossroads between a dazzling hyperconnected digital world and timeless richness of physical reality. The danger isn't simply choosing one overtaking the other, but it's forgetting the value of both. Instead of letting the digital realm shape our entire lives, we should simply let it amplify our humanity. No algorithm, no VR system, no AI-generated masterpiece can truly replace the real - real conversation, real touch, real us. The future belongs to those who master their minds, not their feeds. Technology should widen our perception, not shrink our sense of self. The fading line between the digital world and reality | MorungExpress | morungexpress.com

Indian banks benefit from AI‑driven operating models: Report (2026-03-20T11:30:00+05:30)

(AI image/IANS) New Delhi, (IANS) Indian banks are benefiting from sustained credit growth, deeper digital public infrastructure and rapid adoption of AI‑driven operating models, and heightened regulatory focus on climate risk, cyber resilience and governance, a report said on Friday. The report from KPMG International said the sector is at par with global peers scaling from pilots to enterprise AI use, investing in workforce reskilling and strengthening cybersecurity and ESG frameworks to support long‑term resilience. Based on a survey of 110 global Banking and Capital Markets CEOs, the report found 83 per cent are confident about growth over the next three years and 65 per cent ranked AI as a top investment priority. Around 70 per cent CEOs said they plan to allocate 10–20 per cent of next‑12‑month budgets to AI, while 59 per cent expect agentic AI to have a transformational impact and 69 per cent expect returns within one to three years. "Around 83 per cent banking and capital market CEOs are prioritising reskilling for AI; 79 per cent say AI has redefined entry‑level skills whereas 78 per cent warn AI workforce readiness could negatively impact the organisation if not addressed," the report said. “As global banking leaders respond to rising operational and regulatory costs by pursuing scale and strategic M&A, the same imperative is increasingly shaping the Indian banking sector,” said Sanjay Doshi, Partner and Head, Transaction Services and Financial Services Advisory, KPMG in India. Doshi said that scale is more than just size for India but a catalyst for expanding distribution, accelerating digital transformation and enhancing cost efficiency. As banks deepen their investments in technology and modernize their operating models, selective consolidation and partnership‑led growth can unlock new markets, strengthen value propositions and build long‑term competitive resilience, he added.Around 86 per cent CEOs cited cyber insecurity as the top growth threat, 56 per cent cited ethical challenges, and 55 per cent pointed to data readiness and regulatory gaps. Indian banks benefit from AI‑driven operating models: Report | MorungExpress | morungexpress.com

Australia is tightening the rules on children’s privacy – here’s how it will work (2026-03-19T11:51:00+05:30)

Beth Macdonald/Unsplash Tama Leaver, Curtin University Australia’s privacy laws have been woefully out of date for a long time – not fit to address the realities of the digital world. As part of the long overdue update, the Privacy and Other Legislation Amendment Act in 2024 directed the Office of the Australian Information Commissioner (OAIC) to develop a code to better protect the privacy of young Australians in the digital world. This is urgently needed. By the time a child turns 13, around 72 million pieces of data will have been collected about them. This week, the OAIC published a draft of the Children’s Online Privacy Code, which is now open for public comment. What’s in the code? The code’s scope is much wider than just social media. It encompasses most online services, spaces and platforms that children use. Importantly, it also includes services that may contain children’s personal data but are used by adults. Everything from educational platforms to infant tracking apps will be subject to the code. The best interests of the child are embedded in it, and services will be expected to interpret and implement it. Data minimisation This specifies children’s personal data can only be collected by online services where there’s a clear and direct purpose for that collection, and that data should only be kept while it’s necessary to perform that purpose. Any further data collection requires explicit consent requested in a way that’s age-appropriate for the child. This ensures platforms only request what’s actually mission critical. The onus is on services to delete that personal data as soon as it’s not needed, to help prevent children’s data being caught up in data breaches. The right to delete Where platforms and services hold children’s personal data, children will now have a clear and explicit right to request that data is deleted. The “right to be forgotten” has been on privacy advocates’ wishlist for decades. It recognises individuals own their own data and should maintain control over it where possible. Geolocation transparency When children consent to having their geographic location tracked by digital devices and services, or their parents consent to this on their behalf for those under 15, children regardless of age will be notified when tracking services are sharing that information. Geolocation data can be particularly tricky, even within families. While some might find location tracking helpful, others view it as intrusive surveillance. Ensuring it’s at least transparent to children will help ensure they’re active and aware participants in these services. Age-appropriate explanations Saying you’ve read an app’s terms of service or privacy policies is one of the most common white lies told. That’s mostly because these are long, impenetrable, almost unreadable documents. When children are asked to consent to share their data, the code specifies the explanation for this request must be understandable and age-appropriate. If the request is aimed at a child who might be ten, the explanation needs to be clear to the average ten-year-old. This is vital. Not only does it allow children to make better choices, it also increases their digital literacy as they make meaningful choices about their own data. As part of this, deceptive design elements that might trick children into sharing personal data are explicitly not allowed. We can expect pushback from big tech There will undoubtedly be considerable pushback from big technology platforms about the scope of the code. It seeks to disrupt business as usual, and requires that children’s data is only collected for specific purposes, with explicit consent, and retained for as little time as possible. That’s the opposite of the “grab and keep as much data for as long as possible” logic that drives most tech companies and platforms today. Big data is still imagined to be the big oil of the digital world. Private, personal data is among its most valued forms. Artificial intelligence companies are even more thirsty for that personal data to train their systems. We’ll need more digital literacy For children under 15, the code relies on parental consent. That consent is visible to children, which is important in keeping them informed. However, there’s work to do to equip every parent with the tech literacy they need to make informed choices with their children. In some cases, children don’t easily have a parent or carer to turn to. For children in the most at-risk and challenging situations, there may be difficulties in ensuring that the consent process really can work in children’s best interest. In our Manifesto for a Better Children’s Internet, colleagues and I from the ARC Centre of Excellence for the Digital Child offer a roadmap for an internet better aligned with children’s needs and experiences. Crucially, we argue there should be more focus on protecting children within the digital environment, rather than from it. Maximising children’s opportunities in the digital world means trying to make as many digital spaces available to them, while ensuring those spaces are designed to be as safe and age appropriate as possible. The Children’s Online Privacy Code is set to make an important contribution in achieving that aim. It recognises children’s right to participation as much as their right to protection. What happens next? The OAIC has launched a Privacy for Kids website, which offers age-appropriate explanations of the code for children and adults. It provides a variety of tools and age-appropriate resources to allow children and adults to offer their thoughts on the draft code. That consultation is open until June 5 this year. After responding to the public consultation, the final version of the code must go live by December 10 2026. Tama Leaver, Professor of Internet Studies, Curtin University This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

China’s experience with mobile payments highlights the pros and cons of a cashless society (2026-02-27T13:47:00+05:30)

Wanglin Ma, Lincoln University, New Zealand; Hongyun Zheng, Huazhong Agricultural University, and Puneet Vatsa, Lincoln University, New Zealand An increasing number of people are using mobile devices – their smartphone, a smartwatch or tablet – to pay for goods and services. Mobile devices allow people to complete transactions without using cash or a traditional bank card, making shopping quicker and easier. Our recent research on China’s experience with mobile payments even suggests that people who pay with mobile devices are happier than those who do not. While China’s experience with mobile payments over the past decade highlights some of the benefits of using digital devices to pay for everyday items, it also illustrates how accessibility issues can leave sections of the community behind. Although mobile payments have been around since the early 2000s, they did not take off until the widespread adoption of smartphones. PayPal launched its first product for mobile phones in 2006, allowing customers to pay others via text message. M-PESA was launched soon after in Kenya in 2007. Google launched its digital wallet in 2011 and Apple launched its own version of the digital wallet in 2014. Over the past two decades, China has emerged as the front runner in mobile payment usage. More than 87% of China’s internet users were using mobile payment services in 2021. The high rate of internet usage, a supportive regulatory framework and the government’s push for a cashless society – with COVID-19 as the impetus to introduce the digital yuan to replace physical bank notes – all contributed to the success of mobile payments in China. Leading mobile payment platforms Alipay and WeChat Pay, which boast over a billion users each, are leading the way. Alipay is a mobile payment app and digital wallet that also allows users to order a taxi, apply for a credit card and buy insurance. WeChat Pay is a payment feature integrated within the instant messaging app WeChat. Both apps allow users to leave their physical wallet at home in favour of just their smartphone or smartwatch. But China is not alone in this digital revolution. New Zealanders are also increasingly embracing mobile payments instead of cash. More than just convenient On the surface, the benefits of mobile payments may seem trivial – they allow people to shop without the need for cash. But mobile payments can help reduce costs on essentials like food bills. In earlier research, we found mobile payment users in China spent 2,347 yuan (roughly NZ$546) less on food each year. These savings stemmed from the fact that people using mobile payments for their shopping were able to take advantage of time-sensitive online promotional offers at the checkout. Mobile payments also helped increase farmers’ resilience to adverse weather events by allowing them to access money from family and friends outside the affected areas. This access to funds that could then be spent via mobile payments allowed the farmers to remain solvent in the aftermath of a natural disaster. Mobile payments can boost rural household consumption by making shopping easier for communities that may not have access to traditional financial services such as banks. Mobile payments have also been found to create business opportunities by helping small entrepreneurs become more nimble, increasing their appetite for risk and easing credit constraints by allowing them to take advantage of micro-lending services. And mobile payments can measurably increase a person’s happiness, particularly in rural areas. Analysing data from the 2017 Chinese General Social Survey and measuring happiness on a five-point scale, we found that using mobile payments was associated with a 0.76 point increase in happiness in rural China. No changes in happiness were observed for city dwellers. The increased happiness was likely due to the convenience of mobile payments, helping people seamlessly pay for a broad spectrum of goods and services. In terms of gender, using mobile payments affected women’s happiness more than men’s, regardless of where they lived. In rural China, using mobile payments was associated with a 0.83 point increase in women’s happiness compared to a 0.69 point increase in men’s happiness. We found education increased the likelihood of someone using mobile payments. And being socially active was also positively associated with mobile payment use. But the data showed that the older the person, the less likely they were able to use mobile payments. Ensuring accessibility While there are clear positives to the widespread use of mobile payments, one of the potential stumbling blocks has been the issue of accessibility. As the global pandemic spread in 2020, concerns were raised that China’s older cash-using residents were being excluded by the push towards mobile payment options. New Zealand could face similar issues. Concerns have already been raised by the reduction of bank branches in favour of online banking and what this means for older people and those with limited access to the internet. While 95% of New Zealanders have access to the internet – either via landlines or on their phones – 31% of those in social housing and 29% of people with disabilities report not having any access. Considering the documented benefits of mobile payments and their growing usage, service providers should invest in easy-to-use user interfaces for people from all walks of life. If managed well, the growing popularity of mobile payments in New Zealand could positively impact society, promoting financial inclusion, convenience and wellbeing. Wanglin Ma, Associate Professor of Economics, Lincoln University, New Zealand; Hongyun Zheng, Associate Professor, College of Economics and Management, Huazhong Agricultural University, and Puneet Vatsa, Senior Lecturer in Economics, Lincoln University, New Zealand This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

A month at sea with no technology taught me how to steal my life back from my phone (2026-02-26T11:21:00+05:30)

Robert Hassan, The University of Melbourne A survey this year revealed that Australians, on average, spend 10.2 hours a day with interactive digital technologies. And this figure goes up every year. This is time we don’t get back. And our analogue lives, which include everything not digital, shrink in direct proportion. I recently decided to spend four weeks at sea without access to my phone or the internet, and here’s what I learnt about myself, and the digital rat race I was caught in. Cold turkey Until a year or so ago, I was a 10.2 hours a day person. Over the years, dependence on technology and stress had destroyed any semblance of balance in my life – between work and home, or pleasure and obligation. I wanted to quit, or cut down, at least. Tech “detox” apps such as the time-limiting Screen Time were useless. Even with these, I was still “on”, and just a click away from unblocking Instagram. So I thought: what about going cold turkey? No screen time at all, 24/7. Was that possible, and what would it feel like? My commute to work passed the Footscray docks, where container-ships come and go. Passing one day, I wondered if it was possible to go on one of those ships and travel from Melbourne to … somewhere? Turns out it was. You can book a cabin online and just go. And in what was probably an impulse, I went. For about four weeks I had no devices, as I sailed solo from West Melbourne to Singapore. I wanted to experiment, to see what it felt like to take a digital detox, and whether I could change my habits when I returned home. What I learnt Cold turkey withdrawal is difficult. Even in prison, many inmates have access of some kind of device. The time on that ship taught me there is a whole other side to life, the non-digital side, that gets pushed aside by the ubiquitous screen. Real life contains people, conversations, flesh and textures that are not glass or plastic. It also contains whole worlds that exist inside your head, and these can be summoned when we have the time, and devote a bit of effort to it. These are worlds of memory and imagination. Worlds of reflection and thought. Worlds you see differently to the pallid glare of a screen. I took four books with me and read them in a way I hadn’t before: slower, deeper and with more contemplation. The words were finite (and therefore precious). I’d never spent time like this in my whole life, and was inspired to write about it in detail. Of course, we all have our own commitments and can’t always do something like this. But away from the screen, I learned a lot about our digital world and about myself, and have tried to adapt these lessons to “normal” life. Since I’ve been back, it feels like some sense of balance has been restored. Part of this came from seeing the smartphone as a slightly alien thing (which it is). And instead of being something that always prompts me, I flipped the power dynamic around, to make it something I choose to use - and choose when to use. Meaning sometimes it’s OK to leave it at home, or switch it off. If you can persist with these little changes, you might find even when you have your phone in your pocket, you can go hours without thinking about it. Hours spent doing precious, finite, analogue things. How to get started You could begin by deleting most of your apps. You’ll be surprised by how many you won’t miss. Then, slowly flip the power dynamic between you and your device around. Put it in a drawer once a week - for a morning, then for a day - increasing this over time. If this sounds a bit like commercial digital detox self-care, then so be it. But this is minus the self-care gurus and websites. Forget those. No one (and no app) is really going to help you take back your agency. You need to do it yourself, or organise it with friends. Perhaps try seeing who can go the furthest. After a few weeks, you might reflect on how it feels: what’s the texture of the analogue world you got back? Because, more likely than not, you will get it back. For some, it might be a quieter and more subjective pre-digital world they half remember. For others, it might be something quite new, which maybe feels a bit like freedom. Robert Hassan, Professor, School of Culture and Communication, The University of Melbourne This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

US NRC approves Limerick digital retrofit project (2026-02-25T13:51:00+05:30)

(Image: Constellation) The US Nuclear Regulatory Commission has approved what is described as a first-of-a-kind project to replace analogue instrumentation and control equipment with digital systems. The Limerick Clean Energy Center in Pennsylvania in the USA, is a nuclear power plant featuring two boiling water reactors with a combined capacity of 2,317 MW. The first unit entered commercial service in 1986 and the second unit in 1990. They are currently licensed to operate until 2044 and 2049, respectively. Constellation says the USD167 million Digital Modernization Project will "enhance reliability, diagnostic capability and cyber resilience" and "improve equipment monitoring, provide a broader range of automation and support additional operational flexibility with enhanced reliability". It will be the first large-scale upgrade to a digital safety system at an operating nuclear plant in the US, supported by the US Department of Energy's Light Water Reactor Sustainability Program. The installation of the new system will take place in phases, and digital control rooms will be installed during refuelling outages. The Nuclear Regulatory Commission said in its announcement: "As the nuclear industry advances toward next-generation power reactors equipped with state-of-the-art digital instrumentation and control (I&C) systems, much of today’s operating fleet still relies on analogue controls. While reactor operators have leveraged existing regulatory flexibilities to implement targeted digital upgrades, the NRC’s approval of the Limerick amendments represents a broader and more comprehensive approach. Limerick will be the first operating nuclear power plant the NRC has authorised to perform a major digital retrofit that replaces multiple analogue safety systems with a single digital plant protection system. "The change modernises the control room by replacing legacy equipment with modern digital controls and displays." It said that the approval of licence amendments for Limerick's modernisation project paves the way for future digital I&C modernisation at other US nuclear power plants. Assistant Secretary for Nuclear Energy Ted Garrish said: "Upgrading nuclear power plants with advanced digital systems will help ensure that Americans continue to have access to affordable and abundant energy today and in the future." Joe Dominguez, President and CEO of Constellation, said: "Every dollar we invest to enhance and modernise the nation's largest nuclear fleet will pay dividends for American families and businesses by creating jobs, keeping costs down, improving reliability and adding much-needed capacity to fuel economic growth."Baltimore-based Constellation operates 14 nuclear power plants in the USA with a combined generating capacity of more than 19,000 MWe. These are: Braidwood, Byron, Calvert Cliffs, Clinton, Dresden, FitzPatrick, LaSalle, Limerick, Nine Mile Point, Peach Bottom, Quad Cities, R E Ginna, Salem and South Texas Project. US NRC approves Limerick digital retrofit project\

Digital monitoring is growing in South Africa’s public service – regulation needs to catch up (2026-02-25T11:37:00+05:30)

Lesedi Senamele Matlala, University of Johannesburg Government departments across South Africa are increasingly relying on digital tools to evaluate public programmes and monitor performance. This is part of broader public-sector reforms. Their aims are to improve accountability, respond to audit pressure and manage large-scale programmes with limited staff and budgets. Here’s an example. National departments tracking housing delivery, social grants or infrastructure rollout rely on digital performance systems rather than periodic paper-based reports. Dashboards – a way of showing visual data in one place – provide near real-time updates on service delivery. Another is the use platforms that collect mobile data. These allow frontline officials and contractors to upload information directly from the field. Both examples lend themselves to the use of artificial intelligence (AI) to process large datasets and generate insights that would previously have taken months to analyse. This shift is often portrayed as a step forward for accountability and efficiency in the public sector. I am a public policy scholar with a special interest in monitoring and evaluation of government programmes. My recent research shows a worrying trend, that the turn to technology is unfolding much quicker than the ethical and governance frameworks meant to regulate it. Across the cases I’ve examined, digital tools were already embedded in routine monitoring and evaluation processes. But there weren’t clear standards guiding their use. This presents risks around surveillance, exclusion, data misuse and poor professional judgement. These risks are not abstract. They shape how citizens experience the state, how their data is handled and whose voices ultimately count in policy decisions. When technology outruns policy Public-sector evaluation involves assessing government programmes and policies. It determines whether: public resources are used effectively programmes achieve their intended outcomes citizens can hold the state accountable for performance. Traditionally, these evaluations relied on face-to-face engagement between communities, evaluators, government and others. They included qualitative methods that allowed for nuance, explanation and trust-building. Digital tools have changed this. In my research, I interviewed evaluators across government, NGOs, academia, professional associations and private consultancies. I found a consistent concern across the board. Digital systems are often introduced without ethical guidance tailored to evaluation practice. Ethical guidance would provide clear, practical rules for how digital tools are used in evaluations. For example, when using dashboards or automated data analytics, guidance should require evaluators to explain how data are generated, who has access to them and how findings may affect communities being evaluated. It should also prevent the use of digital systems to monitor individuals without consent or to rank programmes in ways that ignore context. South Africa’s Protection of Personal Information Act provides a general legal framework for data protection. But it doesn’t address the specific ethical dilemmas that arise when evaluation becomes automated, cloud-based and algorithmically mediated. The result is that evaluators are often left navigating complex ethical terrain without clear standards. This forces institutions to rely on precedent, informal habits, past practices and software defaults. Surveillance creep and data misuse Digital platforms make it possible to collect large volumes of data. Once data is uploaded to cloud-based systems or third-party platforms, control over its storage, reuse and sharing frequently shifts from the evaluators to others. Several evaluators described situations where data they’d collected on behalf of government departments was later reused by the departments or other state agencies. This was done without participants’ explicit awareness. Consent processes in digital environments are often reduced to a single click. Examples of other uses included other forms of analysis, reporting or institutional monitoring. One of the ethical risks that came out of the research was the use of this data for surveillance. This is the use of data to monitor individuals, communities or frontline workers. Digital exclusion and invisible voices Digital evaluation tools are often presented as expanding reach and participation. But in practice, they can exclude already marginalised groups. Communities with limited internet access, low digital literacy, language barriers or unreliable infrastructure are less likely to participate fully in digital evaluations. Automated tools have limitations. For example, they may struggle to process multilingual data, local accents or culturally specific forms of expression. This leads to partial or distorted representations of lived experience. Evaluators in my study saw this happening in practice. This exclusion has serious consequences especially in a country with inequality like South Africa. Evaluations that rely heavily on digital tools might find urban, connected populations and make rural or informal communities statistically invisible. This is not merely a technical limitation. It shapes which needs are recognised and whose experiences inform policy decisions. If evaluation data underrepresents the most vulnerable, public programmes may appear more effective than they are. This masks structural failures rather than addressing them. In my study, some evaluations reported positive performance trends despite evaluators noting gaps in data collection. Algorithms are not neutral Evaluators also raised concerns about the growing authority granted to algorithmic outputs. Dashboards, automated reports and AI-driven analytics are often treated as the true picture. This happens even when they conflict with field-based knowledge or contextual understanding. For example, dashboards may show a target as on track. But in an example of a site visit, evaluators my find flaws or dissatisfaction. Several participants reported pressure from funders or institutions to rely on the analysis of the numbers. Yet algorithms reflect the assumptions, datasets and priorities embedded in their design. When applied uncritically, they can reproduce bias, oversimplify social dynamics and disregard qualitative insight. If digital systems dictate how data must be collected, analysed and reported, evaluators risk becoming technicians and not independent professionals exercising judgement. Why Africa needs context-sensitive ethics Across Africa, national strategies and policies on digital technologies often borrow heavily from international frameworks. These are developed in very different contexts. Global principles on AI ethics and data governance provide useful reference points. But they don’t adequately address the realities of inequality, historical mistrust and uneven digital access across much of Africa’s public sector. My research argues that ethical governance for digital evaluation must be context-sensitive. Standards must address: how consent is obtained who owns evaluation data how algorithmic tools are selected and audited how evaluator independence is protected. Ethical frameworks must be embedded at the design stage of digital systems. Lesedi Senamele Matlala, Senior Lecturer and Researcher in Public Policy, Monitoring and Evaluations, University of Johannesburg This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Digital ‘tokenisation’ is reshaping the global financial industry. Is NZ ready? (2026-02-23T13:11:00+05:30)

Murat Ungor, University of Otago and Olena Onishchenko, University of Otago Imagine investing in a premium Central Otago vineyard, or owning a slice of prime Wellington commercial property, all without needing millions in upfront capital. Through asset “tokenisation”, this is becoming a reality. Essentially, tokenisation converts physical and financial assets into digital records, called tokens, which are stored using blockchain technology. Some tokens represent ownership in the way digital property titles or share certificates do. Others might be used for customer loyalty schemes, digital event tickets to prevent scalping, or a means to make fast, low-cost international payments. The blockchain itself is basically a shared digital ledger distributed across computers, with transactions linked into a cryptographic chain. This decentralisation and transparency makes tokenisation both trustworthy and efficient. Why tokenise assets? For decades, investing in real-world assets has meant navigating lawyers, banks, brokers, registries, mountains of paperwork, hefty transaction costs and prohibitive minimum spends. A $10 million commercial building, for example, might require investors to commit large proportions of the full amount, locking out all but the wealthiest buyers. Tokenisation changes this equation for both buyers and sellers. That same building could be split into 100 digital tokens, each representing 1% ownership worth $100,000. Like owning shares in a company, token holders benefit from rental income and property appreciation proportional to their stake. For sellers, it’s a way to raise capital by attracting many smaller investors rather than a few large ones. Tokenisation is already happening Digital assets are already woven into New Zealand’s economy. BlockchainNZ reports nearly NZ$8 billion of digital assets traded annually, with interest in digital assets becoming more common. But New Zealand stands at an important juncture. Existing financial regulations weren’t designed with tokenisation in mind, meaning progress is slow and complex. Industry bodies such as BlockchainNZ, the Banking Association and Payments NZ warn that even slight changes in a token’s features can alter its legal classification, making compliance confusing and expensive. Without clear rules, New Zealand risks losing billions to overseas markets offering greater regulatory certainty. Global momentum is undeniable Executives from multinational investment company BlackRock have compared tokenisation today to the internet in 1996, something poised for explosive growth. Accounting firm Deloitte projects US$4 trillion in global real estate will be tokenised by 2035, up from less than US$0.3 trillion in 2024. In November 2025, Australia introduced legislation for digital asset platforms, with Treasurer Jim Chalmers citing potential annual gains of A$24 billion. Dubai launched its first tokenised real estate platform in May 2025, projecting US$16 billion in value by 2033. J.P. Morgan Asset Management has launched MONY, a tokenised cash fund that invests in relatively safe short-term debt securities. BlockChainNZ held New Zealand’s first real estate tokenisation forum in Auckland in July 2025. Industry analysis suggests tokenising just 2–3% of the domestic property market could unlock over NZ$60 billion in transaction volume. New Zealand’s position New Zealand has genuine advantages: internet penetration exceeds 95% of the population; it is a member of the intergovernmental Digital Nations coalition; and it operates an established digital land-title system, ideal for real estate tokenisation. The regulatory conversation is underway, with the Financial Markets Authority releasing a discussion paper on tokenisation in September 2025. But the Banking Association has identified a critical gap: while existing laws are technology-neutral, they lack clarity for tokenised products. It recommends legislative reviews, controlled testing of tokenised financial products, and guidance for industry participants and consumers on regulation and compliance. Ultimately, New Zealand will need a cohesive framework that actively enables safe innovation. As one industry insider has argued: the rails for tokenisation are being laid now and if we don’t help build them, we’ll be forced to run on tracks designed by others. Navigating the risks Tokenisation also brings serious challenges. Local financial laws were written for paper certificates and bank vaults, not digital tokens and blockchain networks. When an Auckland property developer tokenises an apartment building, or a Marlborough winery offers digital shares, which rules apply? Are these securities? Property titles? This uncertainty creates a compliance minefield. Technology risks compound these problems: cybersecurity vulnerabilities, digital key theft or loss, bugs or flaws in blockchain code that hackers can exploit, and malfunctions in the technology infrastructure can all cause irreversible losses. Energy-intensive blockchain systems raise environmental concerns, while weak consumer protections can expose users to fraud and scams. Tokenised assets can be highly volatile, with rapid price swings encouraging speculation and panic selling. Easy round-the-clock trading amplifies boom-and-bust cycles. When everyone can trade with a few clicks, panic can spread rapidly. The Financial Markets Authority has warned that market manipulation becomes easier across multiple unregulated platforms, money laundering may be harder to detect in cross-border transactions, and fraud (from fake tokenised assets to digital Ponzi schemes) can scale quickly. None of this means tokenisation should (or can) be avoided. The challenge for New Zealand is to keep up with this form of financial innovation, and to retain investment dollars that might otherwise migrate to other jurisdictions. Murat Ungor, Senior Lecturer in Economics, University of Otago and Olena Onishchenko, Senior Lecturer in Finance, University of Otago This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.