Latest news with #King'sCollegeLondon
Yahoo
2 hours ago
- Health
- Yahoo
‘I hate the way my husband breathes'
When Jane Gregory met her husband Steve at a comedy night in Melbourne, she thought she had hit the romantic jackpot. He was handsome, clever, and funny, and the two of them couldn't stop chatting. The only catch? He was British and lived 10,000 miles away. What followed was a three-year-long, transcontinental relationship, a wedding, and eventually – for Gregory, anyway – a one-way ticket to London. At last, they were living together in wedded bliss. 'After a few weeks, I started to realise something was really bothering me,' she says. 'Eventually, I turned to him and asked if he had always breathed that loudly. He looked really confused.' At the time, Gregory had never heard the word 'misophonia'. She just knew she felt a hot rage descend on her each time he inhaled. And then exhaled shortly after. Unlike a snore, which will often stop with a well-aimed kick, or a cough, which will usually get better with time or antibiotics, breathing is a sound you can't turn off. It's not a bad habit. It's a fundamental proponent of being alive – and even the most irritable spouse would pause before asking their partner to 'Please, for the love of God, just stop breathing'. Soon, Gregory was unable to sleep next to her husband or even share a sofa with him. 'I would beg him to breathe a bit quieter, but that wasn't easy for him either,' she recalls. 'It wasn't until much later that I understood what was happening.' Misophonia, literally 'hatred of sound', is a condition that affects an estimated 18 per cent of people in the UK, according to a study from King's College London. It's sometimes called 'sound rage', but that barely scratches the surface of the emotional chaos it can cause, and one of the most common triggers is breath. While most of us find heavy breathing annoying at times, people with misophonia are flooded with an almost primal reaction – disgust, anger, even panic – that can be set off by the sort of gentle inhalations others wouldn't notice. Now, new research shows that the way we breathe is as unique as our fingerprints – researchers measured the breathing of 97 healthy people for 24 hours and found that they could identify participants with relatively high accuracy from their breathing pattern alone. That might be shallow, slow or raspy – but for those with a sensitivity to spousal noise, the adjective they'd preferably use to describe their partner's breathing is 'silent'. Gregory, no doubt, is correct in saying that her husband breathes in an unusually loud way – but it is also true that if he had married someone without misophonia, they probably would never have noticed. 'I have lived with one other romantic partner before,' she says. 'But he was just a much quieter breather than Steve. My husband breathes loudly – that's just a fact. If he's standing next to someone, I can usually hear Steve breathing but not the other person. Gregory was already a clinical psychologist when she got married, but since learning about misophonia, she has joined a research team at the University of Oxford and is now one of the UK's leading experts in the condition. The more research she does, the more she understands that neither she nor her husband is to blame. 'Telling someone that the way they breathe is repulsive can be incredibly hurtful. But if you're the one being triggered, it's unbearable. It's a real problem unless you talk about it openly.' We are only in the foothills of understanding the condition, but some therapists believe an aversion to breathing can be an emotional shorthand for something going wrong in the relationship. A breath that's perceived as too loud might mean: You're not listening. You're not communicating with me. You're not helping me. Jasmine, 44, remembers the moment she realised she had misophonia. It wasn't during a doctor's appointment or in therapy. It was on a holiday in Mallorca with a seemingly great new boyfriend. 'I was 39 at the time and really wanted to meet someone and have a baby, and he ticked all the boxes,' she says. 'So I ploughed on with the relationship even though we didn't actually have that much to say to each other. We went on this romantic holiday together and one evening he told me he wanted to get serious, and I realised almost immediately that I couldn't stand the way he breathed. The more I was around him, the more I felt myself spiralling into panic whenever I could hear the sounds of his breath.' The relationship was over by the time they landed in Gatwick. It was the first time Jasmine wondered if she should explore this aversion to certain people's breathing patterns – but it wasn't the first time she had felt this way. 'I've felt rage and disgust with boyfriends and dates who have breathed in a way I didn't like,' she says. 'I've literally looked for exits during dinner because I am so desperate to get away from the sound.' Now, she is starting to understand that, for her, the condition is often tethered to situations where she feels trapped on some level. 'My therapist says it's like an alarm system. I notice it comes out when I feel claustrophobic: at home as a kid, at work, or with a partner I shouldn't be with.' For Elizabeth, married for 15 years with two children, similar feelings play out, only in the subtler tones of long-term domesticity. She doesn't scream or panic or storm out when her husband's breathing drives her to distraction. Instead, she slams the fridge door slightly harder than usual. 'We can communicate now without actually speaking,' she says. Elizabeth is so attuned to her husband's breath that she can now tell what response he is hoping to get from her by the tempo of his inhalations. Often, he will breathe more heavily while performing household tasks (cleaning the recycling bin with exaggerated sighs or grunting theatrically as he lugs garden waste to the car). 'It's his way of saying, 'Look at me, I'm being useful,'' she says. It used to drive her to distraction, and her anger was only slightly mollified once she realised it was a family trait. 'His dad does it too,' she says. 'Opening the dishwasher sounds like a cardiac event. I don't even ask his dad to help anymore. I assume that was the plan all along.' Like so much else in relationships, what began as an unnoticed quirk in those heady early days of dating has, over time, evolved into a major irritation. Jane Gregory and her husband now sleep in separate bedrooms, a decision that once might have portended the beginning of the end, but which, to the couple, feels almost romantic. 'We spent so long in a long-distance relationship,' she says, 'that coexisting separately actually feels natural. And it makes things so much easier – I can't sleep at all once I tune into the sound of him breathing.' They also use music as a buffer: often Gregory will turn on Taylor Swift mid-meal. 'When I click on Spotify, he knows something's bothering me. It's our way of handling it, without blame or drama.' Ezra Cowan, a psychologist who specialises in misophonia, says that without tricks like these, the dynamic can be heartbreaking, and explains he has watched otherwise happy couples ruin their marriages over something as universal as breathing. 'You have one person who's desperate for relief, and another who is just breathing like they always have since the day they were born. It becomes a vicious cycle. The breather tries to change, the other says it's not enough. Guilt turns into anger. Accommodation turns into resentment.' The real tragedy, he says, is that everyone is trying. And yet, the condition has a way of making both parties feel like there is something wrong with them. Interestingly, studies show that breathing-related misophonia is more prevalent among women, with some academic papers suggesting that they are almost twice as likely to get the condition as men. 'It might be a socially acceptable outlet for emotional pain,' says Cowan. 'If a woman feels ignored or overwhelmed, it might manifest in sensitivity to something as simple as breath.' Equally, it is an aversion that is far more likely to come out in relation to your spouse than to your children or, say, a friend. 'I know people worry about having kids as they worry they would be triggered by the sounds they make,' says Gregory. 'But when they are really little, in particular, it is very rarely a problem. It is usually directed at other adults who you share an intimate space with, in other words, a partner. And it's hard: I know people who have ended relationships because of it.' Complicated as it is to be driven to distraction by a sound that is keeping the person you love alive, misophonia doesn't always ruin relationships. In some cases, it even brings them together. Gregory and her husband are now putting on a comedy show together in Oxford this summer. And the title? If You Loved Me You'd Breathe Quietly. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
Mint
4 hours ago
- Politics
- Mint
Israel tests theory that war can't be won with air power alone
Since last week, wave upon wave of Israeli warplanes has hit targets across Iran—testing the limits of what air power alone can achieve in conflict. Conventional wisdom among military thinkers has long been that missiles and bombs, while essential to modern warfare, are seldom enough to achieve victory on their own, especially if the strategic aims of the warring states are expansive. In this case, Israel has said its goal is to prevent Iran from developing nuclear weapons, by physically destroying its ability to do so or by coercing Iran to give up its atomic ambitions in some kind of negotiated settlement. Israeli politicians have also called for the ouster of Tehran's theocratic regime. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu wants the U.S. to join in and boost his chances of fulfilling his goals. American bunker-busting bombs, for instance, have the best chance of knocking out Fordow, Iran's fortified underground uranium-enrichment facility. The White House said Thursday that President Trump would decide within the next two weeks. Israeli policymakers appear to be counting on the ability of air power to win the day without ground operations, perhaps aside from small deployments of special-forces soldiers and intelligence officers assisting airstrikes. For Israel, there is little choice. It lacks the wherewithal to mount large-scale ground operations far from its borders and against a vastly bigger adversary. The U.S. has the capacity, but the Trump administration has signaled great reluctance to put boots on the ground in any foreign war. If Israel succeeds, with or without U.S. help, it could prompt a serious reassessment of the capabilities of modern air power, its effectiveness augmented by unmanned aircraft and more sophisticated surveillance and intelligence-gathering technologies. But skeptics abound. There are few if any precedents for a large-scale armed conflict in which two states exchanged blows via air power alone. This approach, with no ground forces, 'certainly changes the course of any war—you cannot physically seize things, you can only physically destroy," said Phillips O'Brien, a military historian who teaches war studies at St. Andrews University in Scotland. Both sides have to look at the enemy country as a functioning machine and identify components, such as military production or command and control, whose destruction can lead to a win. 'That's never easy—which is why there are so few" purely aerial wars, O'Brien said. Israel and Iran have been trading blows overtly and covertly for years. Since 2023, the two have been at war indirectly, via Iranian-backed militant groups in Gaza, Lebanon and Yemen, and directly with exchanges of missile salvos and airstrikes last year. 'If you have limited political goals that don't require a presence on the ground, then in theory you can achieve victory even through air power alone," said Ofer Fridman, a former Israeli officer now at King's College London. 'The problem is we don't know what really are the goals" for Israel now. Israel's broad array of targets, from military and nuclear facilities to props for regime power such as police and economic assets such as oil refineries, make it difficult to divine just how expansive Israel's strategic aims are. Iran's war aims are simpler. The regime wants to preserve its power—and its freedom to continue the enrichment of uranium. But its capabilities are far more limited. Iranian ballistic missile attacks haven't caused major damage in Israel, given the country's robust air defenses. Meanwhile, Israeli planes dominate the skies in the western half of Iran and are bombing targets at will. Tehran's best hope, say analysts, is to hold on grimly until Israel's expensive, logistically onerous air effort runs out of time. How does this end? There are at least four ways the war could end. Israel—especially with U.S. help—might succeed in physically destroying so much of Iran's nuclear program that it would take Tehran many years to rebuild it. Alternatively, mounting damage could force Iran's leaders to cave in and sign a deal that foreswears uranium enrichment. Thirdly, the Iranian regime might collapse, taking its nuclear ambitions with it. But a muddled outcome is also possible if the regime holds on and doesn't give in on enrichment, and if the damage to its nuclear facilities is incomplete. Tehran might then repair its nuclear program with greater determination, with less international monitoring and in harder-to-hit locations. Even if Fordow is destroyed, the war might only buy time until Iran tries again to build a bomb. That too would be a gain for Israel, depending on the length of any delay. In the time won, other events could intervene. The Iranian government could collapse or change its approach. When Israel used airstrikes to destroy nuclear reactors in Iraq in 1981 and Syria in 2007, it set back the nuclear-weapons programs of Saddam Hussein and the Assad regime. In Iraq, 'the short-term effect was success and the long-term effect was to drive Iraq underground with its future programs," said Michael O'Hanlon, a scholar at the Brookings Institution in Washington. Iraq's nuclear-weapons program was largely dismantled after it lost the 1991 war over Kuwait against a U.S.-led coalition. Another U.S. invasion in 2003 put an end to Saddam's rule. In Syria, civil war broke out before Bashar al-Assad could do much to revive his nuclear program. He fell from power last year, in a surprise side effect of Israel's mauling of his Lebanese ally Hezbollah. Change from above Examples of air power on its own leading to regime change are nearly nonexistent, say military historians. Experience suggests it takes ground forces too—or at least a competent allied rebel force on the ground. When a U.S.-led coalition ousted the Taliban in Afghanistan in 2001, it cooperated with local military forces known as the Northern Alliance. U.S. ground troops were also quickly deployed. (The Taliban returned to power 20 years later when the U.S. pulled out.) Israel's battering of Iran from the air could weaken the government's prestige and damage its mechanisms of domestic control and repression. But there is currently no sign of an opposition force in Iran that can sweep the regime away, whether through armed rebellion or mass protests. So far, the population is busy trying to find safety, not rise up. If Iran's supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, loses power, it could be to another pillar of the regime, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, leading to a hard-line military government, analysts say. That doesn't mean Israel's campaign won't lead to regime change. But such an outcome would be virtually unprecedented. Air wars are hard Established military thinking holds that controlling the sky is vital for winning a conventional war—but it isn't enough. In an influential U.S. Air Force booklet published in 1995 called 'Ten Propositions Regarding Airpower," Col. Phillip S. Meilinger wrote: 'In reality, the attainment of air superiority has not yet brought a country to its knees. Therefore, the proposition remains that air superiority is a necessary but insufficient factor in victory. It is the essential first step." Almost all major air campaigns in history have been part of wars that involved ground forces too. Examples include Nazi Germany's blitz against Britain, Allied strategic bombing of Germany, the prolonged American bombing of North Vietnam, the first weeks of the U.S.-led war against Iraq in 1991 and Russia's ongoing bombing of Ukraine since 2022. The North Atlantic Treaty Organization's air campaigns in former Yugoslavia, Afghanistan and Libya involved cooperation with local allies. India and Pakistan traded airstrikes in May this year but also shelled each other with artillery. Air campaigns that weren't a preparation for a ground operation have rarely had decisive results. Often, they either failed to deliver the war-winning breakthrough that their planners hoped for, or else—as with Allied bombing of German cities—their efficacy has been hotly debated ever since. Even NATO's air campaign in Kosovo, in which local rebels played a junior role, struggled to badly damage Serbia's well-hidden army and took much longer than expected to force a Serbian withdrawal. The war was one factor behind mass protests that brought down Serbian President Slobodan Milosevic the following year. Israel waged an intensive air campaign against Hezbollah in 2023-24, but four Israeli army divisions also invaded southern Lebanon, while its spy agency Mossad also contributed to Israel's success by blowing up Hezbollah cadres' pagers. The closest precedent for a purely aerial war, apart from the Israel-Iran clash, might be Israel's fight with Yemen's Houthi militia since 2023. Involving exchanges of long-range missiles and bombing raids, it has been the most inconclusive front in Israel's wars since the Oct. 7 attacks. The U.S. also struggled to subdue the Houthis with airstrikes. Trump settled for a U.S.-only cease-fire, while the Houthis continue to fire at Israel. Write to Marcus Walker at
Euronews
11 hours ago
- Business
- Euronews
Remote work in Europe: Which countries lead the way and why?
The UK has the highest rate of telework among 18 European countries, with employees working an average of 1.8 days a week from home. On a wider scale, this total also places the UK second out 40 nations. But, aside from the UK, how do work-from-home (WFH) rates differ across Europe and the world? And what might explain variations between countries? The Global Survey of Working Arrangements (G-SWA) shows that telework trends have evolved since the COVID-19 pandemic. The fourth wave of the survey, conducted between November 2024 and February 2025, covers full-time workers aged 20 to 64 who have completed tertiary education (college or university). While the global telework average stands at 1.2 days per week, WFH rates vary significantly across the 40 countries surveyed, ranging from just 0.5 days per week in South Korea to 1.9 days in Canada. Several factors underpin the UK's top ranking, according to Dr. Cevat Giray Aksoy, lead economist at the EBRD and associate professor of economics at King's College London. 'The UK scores highly on cultural individualism, which is strongly associated with comfort in autonomous work environments,' said Giray Aksoy. Aksoy noted that the UK experienced long and stringent lockdowns, accelerating the adoption of remote work infrastructure and norms. He also explained that the UK's labour market is concentrated in service sectors — such as finance, consulting, and media — where WFH can be a practical option. "Crucially, British workers have developed strong and durable preferences for hybrid work, typically wanting 2–3 WFH days per week. This is no longer a marginal benefit; it's a core expectation," he said. Aksoy warned that firms ignoring this reality may face a serious disadvantage in attracting and retaining talent — particularly when competing with employers in other English-speaking countries that have embraced flexibility. In Europe, Finland (1.7 days) and Germany (1.6 days) followed the UK in the ranking. The WFH rates are also relatively high in Portugal (1.5 days), as well as in Hungary and the Netherlands (both 1.4 days). Employees in Czechia, Italy, and Sweden work from home 1.3 days per week, which is slightly above the global average. Romania, Spain, and Austria align with the global average, each reporting 1.2 remote work days per week. Dr. Aksoy attributes the variation across European countries to a mix of structural, cultural, and economic factors. 'Among these, the most powerful predictor is individualism — a cultural trait that emphasises personal autonomy, self-reliance, and independence over collective goals or close supervision,' he said. He added that other factors also play a role. These include the severity and duration of COVID-19 lockdowns, population density, and the industrial structure of each economy. For instance, countries with a larger share of remote-friendly sectors such as IT and finance are better positioned to support hybrid models. Densely populated countries also often see higher WFH levels, in part due to longer commutes. Greece reports the lowest WFH rate in Europe at just 0.6 days per week. 'Part of the explanation lies in the structure of the Greek economy, which leans heavily on sectors like tourism, retail, and hospitality — jobs that generally require physical presence,' said Aksoy. 'But deeper cultural and institutional factors also play a role. Greece scores relatively low on individualism,' he added. He stated that digital adoption and management practices were relatively underdeveloped before the pandemic, which likely slowed the normalisation of WFH. While Finland ranks second in Europe with 1.7 remote work days per week, Norway and Denmark report significantly lower rates at just 0.9 days. Sweden, with 1.3 days, sits in between, reflecting a clear divide in remote work trends across the Nordic countries. Aksoy explained that Finland has a slightly more individualistic culture and a long-standing emphasis on work-life balance and employee autonomy compared to Denmark and Norway, which may maintain more traditional management practices. 'Finnish organisations, especially in the public sector and technology industries, were early adopters of flexible work policies — even before the pandemic,' he added. Among Europe's five largest economies, France has the lowest remote work rate, with employees averaging just 1 day per week from home. Turkey follows closely at 0.9 days, while Poland is slightly ahead with 1.1 days. Overall levels of working from home have declined globally, dropping from an average of 1.6 days per week in 2022 to 1.33 days in 2023. In 2024 and 2025, they fell far more modestly to 1.27 days. The research concludes that remote work levels have roughly stabilised since 2023. 'However, this stability doesn't mean stasis. Incremental shifts could still occur — driven by new technologies, changing demographics, or evolving labour market conditions,' Aksoy added. Europe needs to boost its growth in the face of global headwinds or risk losing its way of life, said the head of the International Monetary Fund Kristalina Georgieva on Wednesday. 'I don't want Europe to become the United States of America, but I want the productivity and functionality of Europe to go up,' she told Euronews. 'In Europe we enjoy being a lifestyle superpower. Unless we become more productive we may lose this advantage,' she added. Georgieva was speaking ahead of the publication of a new IMF statement on Thursday, which offers economic suggestions to eurozone nations. One key message is that Europe must speed up progress on the single market, which ensures the free movement of goods, services, capital and people between single market nations. 'There are no tariffs within Europe, but it doesn't mean there are no barriers in Europe, regulatory and otherwise,' Georgieva told Euronews. The IMF estimates that barriers to free movement in the single market are equivalent to a 44% tariff on goods and a 110% tariff on services. Georgieva noted that in the US, what is produced in one state is split 30-70, meaning 30% is consumed in that state and 70% is sent to other states. In Europe, on the other hand, 70% of production is consumed domestically while 30% is sent abroad. This is a set-up that limits growth by keeping markets smaller and less competitive. 'If Europe completes the single market, over 10 years, it would boost GDP by 3%,' said Georgieva. Means to advance progress on this front include lowering regulatory fragmentation, supporting labour mobility, facilitating cross-border banking mergers, integrating the energy market, and making progress on the capital markets union (CMU) — said the IMF. The CMU aims to allow investment and savings to flow seamlessly across member states. This would make it easier for businesses in one EU state to source funding from another EU state, supporting firms to grow and create jobs. In terms of deepening capital markets, the IMF's statement added that the EU should 'increase institutional investors' familitary with venture capital as an asset class and address remaining undue restrictions on their ability to invest in it'. Looking ahead, the IMF expects eurozone growth at a moderate 0.8% in 2025, picking up to 1.2% in 2026. Trade and geopolitical tensions are expected to dampen sentiment and weigh on investment and consumption. With regards to interest rates, the IMF argued that 'a monetary policy stance close to neutral is justified' as headline inflation nears the ECB's 2% target. When balancing spending pressures with fiscal sustainability, the IMF recommended that countries with strong public finances support countries with less room for manoeuvre. 'It is crucial that care be taken in implementing the EU fiscal rules to ensure that countries with low fiscal risks that intend to increase spending to boost potential growth and enhance resilience should not be constrained from doing so by the rules,' said Thursday's statement.
The Hill
2 days ago
- Politics
- The Hill
How close is Iran to a nuclear bomb?
Iran's nuclear breakout time has become a key question as President Trump considers whether to bomb the Islamic regime's key underground nuclear facility. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, in justifying his unprecedented strikes on the regional rival last week, said Iran was 'marching very quickly' toward a nuclear weapon. That seemed to diverge from U.S. assessments – voiced by National Security Director Tulsi Gabbard in a March congressional hearing – that Iran was not actively building a nuclear weapon. Trump was clear about where he stood when asked about Gabbard's testimony on Tuesday. 'I don't care what she said. I think they were very close to having one,' Trump told reporters on Air Force One. Nuclear watchdogs have had limited ability to monitor Iran's stockpiles since Trump withdrew from the Obama-era nuclear deal in 2018. For that reason and others, experts say pinning down a specific nuclear timeline is complicated. 'When people give different estimates of Iran's breakout timeline, I think it's because they're talking about different things,' said Heather Williams, a senior fellow at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, pointing to Gabbard's testimony and Trump's pushback. 'Tulsi Gabbard said there is no evidence that Iran is weaponizing. That can be a true statement at the same time as Iran is pursuing a nuclear weapons capability,' she said. 'If you want to talk about actual weaponization, that is a very specific activity. It involves developing trigger technologies, figuring out how an implosion device works.' Given its current level of enrichment, experts estimate it would take Iran a week or two to produce the weapons-grade uranium needed for a nuclear weapon, and another few months to build a crude weapon. Then Iran would need to figure out how to deliver the bomb to Israel, more than 1,000 miles away, either fitting it onto a missile, dropping it from a plane, or smuggling it across the border by land. According to CNN, U.S. officials think Iran is up to three years away from actually launching a nuclear weapon. Andreas Krieg, a lecturer in security studies at King's College London, put that figure closer to 18 months. He said he was skeptical of Israel's claims of a rapidly closing window to halt Iran's nuclear ambitions. 'The assessment of what the Israeli intelligence says, we only have it filtered through the government, and the government obviously has an intention to say 'they're very close,' and hence, this was a preemptive strike rather than an act of aggression,' Krieg said. 'I'm not sure whether the Israeli intelligence service really says this, or if this is the Israeli government abusing or exploiting a narrative,' he added. 'No one has seen that report.' A spokesperson for the Israel Defense Forces did not respond to questions about their latest assessments. Israel has pounded Iranian nuclear facilities in the past week, possibly setting back its nuclear program by a few months. However, experts say eliminating Iran's near-term nuclear threat requires destroying the Fordo nuclear facility, which is buried in the side of a mountain. Only the U.S. has the 30,000-pound bombs required to penetrate the thick concrete bunker shielding the nuclear centrifuges underground. President Trump returned early from the G7 Summit in Canada and summoned his national security team to the White House on Tuesday as he considers sending U.S. bombers and pilots to join Israel's war. A day before Israel's strikes, a quarterly report by the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) found that Iran had amassed 400 kilograms of 60 percent enriched uranium, a stockpile that 'remains a matter of serious concern,' said the agency, tasked with monitoring Tehran's nuclear program. The report was the first time since 2005 that the IAEA Board of Governors had found Iran in violation of its non-proliferation pledges. 'The first time in 20 years that you find someone to be in breach, it is a big deal and it should be very concerning,' said Williams. 90 percent enrichment is considered weapons-grade, and experts have said that Iran's uranium supply is well above what would be needed for civilian use in a nuclear power plant. The 2015 nuclear deal negotiated by the Obama administration included provisions for Iran to allow the IAEA significant access to its nuclear program, including installing cameras and sensors at nuclear sites. After Trump pulled out of the deal in 2018, the Iranian government has limited inspections and removed cameras at its sites altogether, though the IAEA has been able to retain some investigatory power and access. Since at least 2019, the U.S. has assessed that Iran is not actively pursuing a workable nuclear device. Annual reports from the Office of the Director of National Intelligence typically included the line 'Iran is not currently undertaking the key nuclear weapons-development activities necessary to produce a testable nuclear device.' Last year, American intelligence agencies shifted to say that Iran has 'undertaken activities that better position it to produce a nuclear device, if it chooses to do so,' but maintained that Iran did not have an active nuclear military program. Before it launched its attacks last week, Israel told the United States that Iran had renewed research efforts useful for a nuclear weapon, including studying an explosive triggering system, the Wall Street Journal reported. But U.S. officials weren't convinced those efforts amounted to a decision by Iran to actually build a weapon. David Des Roches, a professor at the Near East South Asia Center for Security Studies, said Israeli officials were inclined to be more cautious than their U.S. counterparts when assessing Iran's nuclear threat. 'The Americans are more capable of looking at the capability and saying, 'yes, yes, yes, but,' and then examining intent. I think Israeli strategic culture is fundamentally different,' he said. 'Their culture is preventing annihilation while the world stands by, so their calculus is less accepting of risk.' Gabbard told lawmakers in March that the U.S. had seen a shift in Iranian rhetoric around nuclear weapons. 'In the past year, we've seen an erosion of a decades-long taboo in Iran on discussing nuclear weapons in public, likely emboldening nuclear weapons advocates within Iran's decision-making apparatus,' she said. But she noted Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khomeini had not re-authorized Iran's nuclear weapons program suspended in 2003, and said the U.S. still believed Iran was not actively pursuing a nuclear weapon. Krieg argued that any decision made by Iran to begin sprinting towards a nuclear weapon would be known by Western intelligence agencies. 'Looking at how penetrated Iran is right now, we see that the Mossad [Israel's spy agency] has been able to operate with impunity across all levels of the regime,' he said. 'If any of these decisions had been made, it would have come to all our attention.'
The National
2 days ago
- Politics
- The National
Scottish Reform defector called out over new job at The Spectator
Jamie McGuire has taken up an internship with the right-wing magazine – while remaining in post as a councillor in Renfrewshire. On Tuesday, he posted on his LinkedIn: 'I'm happy to share that I've started a new position as a Broadcast Intern at The Spectator!' READ MORE: Labour MP voted down grooming gang probe – before demanding Scottish inquiry This was picked up by a Twitter/X account called Reform UK Exposed which said: 'Wonder how he'll serve his Renfrewshire constituents from Old Queen Street, Westminster.' McGuire's exact arrangement with The Spectator, edited by Tory peer Michael Gove (below), is unknown. He told The National: 'It's a week long internship and for King's College London it was only Thursday and Friday most of which I did virtually.' (Image: James Manning) The councillor, who serves Renfrew North and Braehead and defected to Nigel Farage's party earlier this month, is also currently studying for a master's degree in government studies at King's College London. Speaking to the university's official website, McGuire admitted that 'balancing my studies with my role as an elected councillor is demanding' but added: 'It does not feel like a burden.' READ MORE: G7 support for Israel's war on Iran 'threatens humanity', expert warns The author of the blog noted McGuire's 'long commute from Scotland to London'. McGuire is paid £21,344 per year for his job as a councillor.
