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Malay Mail
6 hours ago
- Malay Mail
AI and ethics can help stop online harassment — Lim Jo Yi, He Xiaoyan and Mohd Istajib Mokhtar
JULY 20 — From school halls to digital spaces, moral and civic education teaches us to be helpful, considerate, and kind members of society. Yet, despite these teachings, various forms of harm continue to plague both physical and online worlds. One such issue is online harassment—also commonly referred to as cyberbullying. Online harassment has become a distressingly common experience for many internet users. It involves acts of aggression, intimidation, or abuse carried out across digital platforms. According to researchers like Leduc and colleagues in Computers in Human Behavior, it can take many forms—disinformation, name-calling, threats, sexual harassment, and public humiliation. This digital abuse can affect people from all walks of life, although certain demographic factors such as ethnicity, age, and gender may influence how likely someone is to experience it. Pew Research Center reports by Monica Anderson in 2018 and more recent updates by Atske in 2024 highlight how widespread and persistent the issue is, particularly among teens. Similarly, a Malaysian-based study published in BMJ Open by Samsudin and colleagues in 2023 found that young adults experiencing cyberbullying often also report psychological distress and strained family dynamics. In Malaysia, researchers Kee, Anwar, and Vranjes pointed out in 2024 that online harassment is a risk factor for suicidal thoughts among youth. Often, the abuse stems from prejudice—negative stereotypes based on religion, ethnicity, gender, or even personal interests can quickly snowball into digital attacks. Victims may receive a barrage of cruel messages, mockery, or hate comments targeting their identity. Cultural norms can also fuel the problem. When mocking or humiliating others is treated as entertainment, especially in online communities, abusers feel emboldened. The anonymity of the internet offers a protective mask that emboldens people to say what they would never say face-to-face. Combined with the misuse of free speech, this creates a digital culture that tolerates—even encourages—harmful behaviour. The effects of online harassment are not limited to bruised egos. Victims often face serious mental health challenges. Studies by Dr Cheryl Nixon in 2014 reveal how victims may suffer from depression, anxiety, disrupted sleep patterns, appetite loss, and even suicidal ideation. These psychological effects can lead to social withdrawal, strained relationships, and a deep sense of helplessness. Embarrassment, fear, and self-blame are common emotional responses. Many victims, especially teens and young adults, avoid telling friends or family about their experiences, which only amplifies their isolation. Can ethics and AI offer solutions? As technology evolves, so do our opportunities to address online harassment in smarter ways. — Reuters pic A landmark case in Canada, R. v. Elliott in 2016, highlighted the legal implications of online abuse. The case was connected to Rehtaeh Parsons, a 17-year-old girl who took her life after a photo of her sexual assault was widely shared online, followed by relentless digital harassment. Although initial investigations failed to yield justice, public outcry prompted a renewed effort that led to charges under Canada's Cyberbullying Prevention Act—also known as Bill C-13. This tragic case led to legislative reform. Nova Scotia passed 'Rehtaeh's Law,' the first of its kind in Canada, which broadened the legal definition of cyberbullying and provided new tools for law enforcement to act. Writing in Crime, Media, Culture, researcher Alice Dodge in 2023 emphasised how the case shifted public perception of cyberbullying—from a social issue to a serious crime requiring legal intervention. Can ethics and AI offer solutions? As technology evolves, so do our opportunities to address online harassment in smarter ways. Media ethics plays a key role here. Researchers like Milosevic and colleagues in 2022, writing in the International Journal of Bullying Prevention , argue that media platforms must uphold ethical standards that prioritise harm reduction. This includes creating clear content guidelines, efficient reporting mechanisms, and psychological support systems for those affected. Media outlets should portray victims with dignity and avoid sensationalising abuse, while ensuring perpetrators are held accountable. Technology, particularly artificial intelligence, could also help stem the tide. AI-powered moderation tools, if designed ethically, can assist in identifying abusive content and preventing its spread. But these systems must prioritise fairness, transparency, and accountability. Many current algorithms are geared toward boosting engagement—even if that means promoting provocative or harmful content. Instead, platforms need to redesign algorithms to avoid amplifying negativity. As highlighted by Zubiaga in the International Review of Information Ethics in 2021, tech companies must also be transparent about how moderation decisions are made and offer clear ways for users to report abuse. Ultimately, it's not just up to lawmakers, media companies, or AI developers. All internet users share the responsibility to create a culture of empathy, respect, and mutual accountability. By standing against online harassment, speaking up for victims, and supporting efforts for ethical technology, we can help make digital spaces safer for everyone. * This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail .
Yahoo
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
What's in a name? 5 women on changing their moniker because of marriage, divorce — or 'Bewitched.'
In 1973, Samantha Feldman nee Selinger — who also happens to be my mother — was 12 years old, new to the United States from Israel and bewitched by Bewitched, a hit sitcom about a witch living in the suburbs with her husband and attempting to keep her powers under wraps to varying and often wacky levels of success. Feldman, who was born with the first name Sarit, fell in love not only with the show but also with its titular character, Samantha Stephens. 'She was spunky and fun and had a great personality,' she explains. 'She was ahead of her time, and she fought for things she believed in. Also, she dressed funky! She had such cool clothes.' And that's how seventh grader Sarit became Samantha. 'Growing up, everyone mispronounced my name; it was annoying,' she says. 'After my citizenship ceremony, I told everyone, 'Now that I'm an American, my name is going to be Samantha.' It just stuck.' People change their names for any number of reasons, whether it's because they want a moniker that better suits their identity or just really, really like TV witches. But typically, it's marriage (and, later, divorce) that's driving the update. According to a 2023 survey from the Pew Research Center, about 8 in 10 women in opposite-sex marriages took their husband's last name upon tying the knot; 14% kept their name and 5% opted for a hyphenated mashup incorporating both names. Among men, just 5% took on their wife's last name. 'Growing up in a traditional family, I just thought it was something required," says Nicole Williams, who was born Nicole Hall. 'Like, you get married, your last name changes. I didn't know that I had a choice," she adds with a laugh. There were other upsides to taking her spouse's name. "I was like, 'Well, to be honest, my last name is kind of boring, and I don't have a personal attachment to it,'" she tells Yahoo. "I wanted to separate ties with connections to some members of my family for personal reasons, and taking on a new last name would help drop some of that baggage.' For the handbag designer known professionally as Julie Mollo, changing her last name to Verderame after getting married last year felt meaningful; 'I'm a hopeless romantic at heart,' she says. But she's kept her maiden name for her eponymous (and super-sparkly) bag line, a distinction that has helped her create better work-life boundaries. 'I always struggled with the blurred lines between my work life and personal life,' she tells Yahoo. 'Moving my studio out of my home was the first step. I can be Julie Mollo when I leave the house and be just Julie when I'm at home.' Using her married name for her everyday, nonwork life has helped her embrace her entire self. But she appreciates the freedom to switch back and forth depending on the context. 'I'm grateful that my business name is my maiden name,' she says, 'because I never have to lose it or sacrifice it and change who I am.' As far as the differences between the two Julies? 'I think Julie Verderame is a lot more relaxed, whereas Julie Mollo is much more of a boss,' she quips. Many of the women who spoke to Yahoo about changing their name after marriage saw it as a symbol of their shared union and an important step toward building a life with their new spouse. The paperwork can be a nuisance, however. Williams, for one, still has student loans under her maiden name. 'I can't change them online and would have to send them my marriage certificate that shows my new last name," she says. "It's just a more difficult process." Things become even more complicated when it comes to divorce, Brittney Huntington tells Yahoo. When she decided to go back to her maiden name after her split, she encountered an administrative nightmare. 'I not only had to legally change it back, but I also had to go through the painstaking and customized process for each individual credit card/account/mortgage docs, etc., that could only happen once my legal [documents, including her passport, driver's license and Social Security card] were reinstated," Huntington says. 'There was a time when only one was updated, and I needed to travel. That caused some real headaches in proving I was, in fact, me.' As a new bride, Huntington had mixed feelings about changing her name in the first place but ultimately agreed because it was what her then-husband wanted. 'My father had passed away when I was young and had no sons, so my sister and I were the only ones able to carry on any sort of legacy of his name,' she says. 'It was very important for me to keep Huntington in there somehow, so I decided to move it to my middle name.' She also tacked on Huntington as a second middle name for her daughter. It's an "embarrassingly long name," she admits, but it's proved helpful now that the two no longer share a last name. 'Having continuity with my maiden name in both my own name and hers has made it easier to prove I'm me (and her parent) on subsequent government and health care documents,' she says. And though there are still some outstanding random things listed under her married name, she has otherwise fully and comfortably gone back to Huntington. 'It is, and always will be, Huntington." Of course, there's another route to take when it comes to changing your name after divorce: making up a new one. After her first marriage ended in divorce, writer Cheryl Strayed famously opted not to keep her ex's last name or go back to her maiden name. Instead, the avid hiker and Wild author settled on Strayed, a nod to her wanderlust spirit and uprooted situation. Erin Duran also went with option C after her divorce. And if you're thinking, 'Like the band, Duran Duran?' ... well, yes. 'In 2022, I got divorced, and my ex-husband was insistent that I didn't keep his name,' Duran tells Yahoo. 'My mom, who is a giant hippie, has changed her name multiple times. After rejecting a few of my ideas, she was like, 'Why don't you pick something you love?' Music is what I love most." She zeroed in on her favorite new wave acts. A nod to David Bowie or The Smiths? The first was "too obvious," the second too "boring." And then: "We stumbled across Duran Duran." "Erin Duran sounded nice, easy to spell," says the divorcée, who was heartened when her friends didn't laugh when she ran the idea by them. But she admits that she wasn't really thinking clearly when she made the name change official. 'I got COVID during my divorce proceedings,' she says. 'I'm in bed with a fever, and my lawyer says he needs a name for the paperwork. I don't know if I would have done it if I had been in [my] full faculties. I don't mind being weird, but it's a commitment.' Today, she has no regrets. She likes the way the name flows, and where it lands in the alphabet ('I grew up with the last name Wright and knew the pains of being [last]," she explains). Most importantly, though, she likes how the name makes her feel. 'I didn't go back to my maiden name because it felt like a retreat or defeat or something,' Duran says. 'It just didn't feel right to go backward. I wanted to take control of my next chapter. To define it.'
Fast Company
2 days ago
- Fast Company
You earned that vacation time, so why do you feel guilty about taking time off?
BY Listen to this Article More info 0:00 / 4:24 'My dedication was questioned.' 'Managers or upper management have looked down upon taking time off.' 'People think that maybe you're not as invested in the job, that you're shirking your duties or something.' These are just a few of the responses to questions I asked during a study I conducted on vacation guilt among American workers. More than 88% of full-time, private sector workers in the U.S. receive paid time off. This benefit is ostensibly in place to improve employee morale and well-being. Yet a 2024 Pew Research Center survey found that nearly half of American workers don't take all the vacation days they've been allotted. And many of them feel as if they're discouraged from using their time off. Ironically, what's supposed to be a source of relaxation and restoration morphs into a stressor: As vacations approach, feelings of doubt and guilt creep in. I'm from Singapore. Upon moving to the U.S. in 2016, I was surprised at how pervasive vacation guilt appeared to be. Compared with many of the other countries where I've lived or worked, American culture seems to prioritize mental health and wellness. I assumed these attitudes extended to the American workplace. Surprisingly, though, I noticed that many of my American friends felt guilty about taking time off that they'd earned. So as a scholar of tourism and hospitality, I wanted to understand how and why this happened. Vacation guilt To carry out the study, I collaborated with tourism scholar Robert Li. We interviewed 15 workers who had experienced feelings of guilt over taking time off. We also administered an online survey to 860 full-time employees who received paid time off from their employers. We wanted to know whether employees felt less respected or believed that their bosses and colleagues saw them in a worse light for taking time off. Maybe they feared being seen as slackers or, worse, replaceable. We found that 1 in 5 respondents to our survey experienced vacation guilt, and these concerns made them think twice about following through with their vacation plans. For those who eventually did take a vacation, they often tried to ease their guilt by going for fewer days. They might also apologize for taking a vacation or avoid talking about their vacation plans at work. Some of the people we interviewed had pushed through their hesitation and taken their vacation as planned. Yet all of these employees believed that they'd been penalized for taking time off and that it led to poor performance reviews, despite the fact that their paid vacation days had been a clearly articulated, earned benefit. The U.S. is an outlier The U.S. is the only advanced economy that doesn't legally mandate a minimum number of vacation days. On top of that, only a handful of states require workers to be compensated for their unused vacation days. Meanwhile, the law in other advanced economies entitles employees to a minimum amount of annual paid leave. The EU, for example, mandates at least 20 days per year on top of paid public holidays, such as Christmas and New Year's Day, with a number of EU member countries requiring more than 20 days of paid vacation for full-time employees. Even in Japan, which is notorious for its workaholic culture, employees are entitled to a minimum of 10 days of paid leave every year. Throughout much of the U.S., whether paid vacation time is offered at all depends on an employer's generosity, while many employees face a ' use-it-or-lose-it ' situation, meaning unused vacation days don't roll over from one year to the next.
Axios
3 days ago
- Politics
- Axios
Trump's inroads among Texas Latinos
President Trump won a higher percentage of the Latino vote nationally in 2024 than previously believed and came within striking distance of capturing a historic majority of those voters, according to a recent Pew Research Center analysis of the election results. Why it matters: In Texas, the trend around Latino voters "is mostly bad for those harboring ambitions of the Democratic Party becoming a competitive force in the state," Jim Henson and Joshua Blank of the Texas Politics Project at the University of Texas wrote in an election post-mortem earlier this year. What they're saying: The signs of Trump's success among Texas Latinos were "hiding in plain sight," per Henson and Blank. On the key campaign issues of the economy and border security, Texas Latinos favored the positions most associated with Republicans, state polling found. Stunning stat: In February 2016, 65% of Texas Latinos identified as Democrats. In December 2024, it was 45%, per polling from the Texas Politics Project. Zoom out: The Pew analysis confirms what early exit polls hinted: former Vice President Kamala Harris dramatically underperformed previous Democratic presidential candidates among Latinos, a rapidly growing and once-solidly Democratic voting bloc that has taken a big swing toward Republicans. Pew's analysis shows Trump won 48% of all U.S. Latino voters — a group that soundly rejected him in 2020 and 2016 — and that it was a crucial factor in his victory. Separately, exit polls in Texas suggested that Trump won 55% of the Latino vote — a 13-point increase from 2020, per the Texas Politics Project.
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
What's in a name? 5 women on changing their moniker because of marriage, divorce — or 'Bewitched.'
In 1973, Samantha Feldman nee Selinger — who also happens to be my mother — was 12 years old, new to the United States from Israel and bewitched by Bewitched, a hit sitcom about a witch living in the suburbs with her husband and attempting to keep her powers under wraps to varying and often wacky levels of success. Feldman, who was born with the first name Sarit, fell in love not only with the show but also with its titular character, Samantha Stephens. 'She was spunky and fun and had a great personality,' she explains. 'She was ahead of her time, and she fought for things she believed in. Also, she dressed funky! She had such cool clothes.' And that's how seventh grader Sarit became Samantha. 'Growing up, everyone mispronounced my name; it was annoying,' she says. 'After my citizenship ceremony, I told everyone, 'Now that I'm an American, my name is going to be Samantha.' It just stuck.' People change their names for any number of reasons, whether it's because they want a moniker that better suits their identity or just really, really like TV witches. But typically, it's marriage (and, later, divorce) that's driving the update. According to a 2023 survey from the Pew Research Center, about 8 in 10 women in opposite-sex marriages took their husband's last name upon tying the knot; 14% kept their name and 5% opted for a hyphenated mashup incorporating both names. Among men, just 5% took on their wife's last name. 'Growing up in a traditional family, I just thought it was something required," says Nicole Williams, who was born Nicole Hall. 'Like, you get married, your last name changes. I didn't know that I had a choice," she adds with a laugh. There were other upsides to taking her spouse's name. "I was like, 'Well, to be honest, my last name is kind of boring, and I don't have a personal attachment to it,'" she tells Yahoo. "I wanted to separate ties with connections to some members of my family for personal reasons, and taking on a new last name would help drop some of that baggage.' For the handbag designer known professionally as Julie Mollo, changing her last name to Verderame after getting married last year felt meaningful; 'I'm a hopeless romantic at heart,' she says. But she's kept her maiden name for her eponymous (and super-sparkly) bag line, a distinction that has helped her create better work-life boundaries. 'I always struggled with the blurred lines between my work life and personal life,' she tells Yahoo. 'Moving my studio out of my home was the first step. I can be Julie Mollo when I leave the house and be just Julie when I'm at home.' Using her married name for her everyday, nonwork life has helped her embrace her entire self. But she appreciates the freedom to switch back and forth depending on the context. 'I'm grateful that my business name is my maiden name,' she says, 'because I never have to lose it or sacrifice it and change who I am.' As far as the differences between the two Julies? 'I think Julie Verderame is a lot more relaxed, whereas Julie Mollo is much more of a boss,' she quips. Many of the women who spoke to Yahoo about changing their name after marriage saw it as a symbol of their shared union and an important step toward building a life with their new spouse. The paperwork can be a nuisance, however. Williams, for one, still has student loans under her maiden name. 'I can't change them online and would have to send them my marriage certificate that shows my new last name," she says. "It's just a more difficult process." Things become even more complicated when it comes to divorce, Brittney Huntington tells Yahoo. When she decided to go back to her maiden name after her split, she encountered an administrative nightmare. 'I not only had to legally change it back, but I also had to go through the painstaking and customized process for each individual credit card/account/mortgage docs, etc., that could only happen once my legal [documents, including her passport, driver's license and Social Security card] were reinstated," Huntington says. 'There was a time when only one was updated, and I needed to travel. That caused some real headaches in proving I was, in fact, me.' As a new bride, Huntington had mixed feelings about changing her name in the first place but ultimately agreed because it was what her then-husband wanted. 'My father had passed away when I was young and had no sons, so my sister and I were the only ones able to carry on any sort of legacy of his name,' she says. 'It was very important for me to keep Huntington in there somehow, so I decided to move it to my middle name.' She also tacked on Huntington as a second middle name for her daughter. It's an "embarrassingly long name," she admits, but it's proved helpful now that the two no longer share a last name. 'Having continuity with my maiden name in both my own name and hers has made it easier to prove I'm me (and her parent) on subsequent government and health care documents,' she says. And though there are still some outstanding random things listed under her married name, she has otherwise fully and comfortably gone back to Huntington. 'It is, and always will be, Huntington." Of course, there's another route to take when it comes to changing your name after divorce: making up a new one. After her first marriage ended in divorce, writer Cheryl Strayed famously opted not to keep her ex's last name or go back to her maiden name. Instead, the avid hiker and Wild author settled on Strayed, a nod to her wanderlust spirit and uprooted situation. Erin Duran also went with option C after her divorce. And if you're thinking, 'Like the band, Duran Duran?' ... well, yes. 'In 2022, I got divorced, and my ex-husband was insistent that I didn't keep his name,' Duran tells Yahoo. 'My mom, who is a giant hippie, has changed her name multiple times. After rejecting a few of my ideas, she was like, 'Why don't you pick something you love?' Music is what I love most." She zeroed in on her favorite new wave acts. A nod to David Bowie or The Smiths? The first was "too obvious," the second too "boring." And then: "We stumbled across Duran Duran." "Erin Duran sounded nice, easy to spell," says the divorcée, who was heartened when her friends didn't laugh when she ran the idea by them. But she admits that she wasn't really thinking clearly when she made the name change official. 'I got COVID during my divorce proceedings,' she says. 'I'm in bed with a fever, and my lawyer says he needs a name for the paperwork. I don't know if I would have done it if I had been in [my] full faculties. I don't mind being weird, but it's a commitment.' Today, she has no regrets. She likes the way the name flows, and where it lands in the alphabet ('I grew up with the last name Wright and knew the pains of being [last]," she explains). Most importantly, though, she likes how the name makes her feel. 'I didn't go back to my maiden name because it felt like a retreat or defeat or something,' Duran says. 'It just didn't feel right to go backward. I wanted to take control of my next chapter. To define it.' Solve the daily Crossword
