Latest news with #identity
South China Morning Post
5 hours ago
- General
- South China Morning Post
People laugh in my face when I say I'm Chinese. So what?
I am a Chinese man. It's just taken me more than 30 years to be OK with saying this. Advertisement You might not think so to look at me. I'm the son of a Singaporean Chinese mother and a British father, but the genetic lottery dished out a Caucasian face and that became a self-fulfilling prophecy. When I was growing up in Singapore, people saw me as white, so that was how I felt. I never took Lunar New Year very seriously, and at my rebellious, teenage nadir even skipped the festivities entirely (well, almost). Instead of attending reunion dinner on the eve of the festival and big gatherings on days one and two, I stayed home in a sulk over the pointlessness of these centuries-old traditions. Shamelessly, I had no problems keeping the ang pow , or red packets containing money, collected on my behalf. I gave up learning Mandarin effectively after primary school, having stupidly convinced myself that failing the subject was 'cool'. It is deliciously ironic that I've ended up occasionally having to translate Chinese into English at work, muddling through with the help of native speakers and Google Translate. Shamefully, I never learned Teochew beyond counting to 10 and asking, 'How are you?' and 'Have you eaten?' – even though my mother and her siblings spoke the dialect to each other and it was the closest link with my grandfather's roots in Swatow (now Shantou, in Guangdong). The language barrier prevented me from having a direct conversation with my maternal grandparents. Advertisement In a way, putting my Chinese heritage on the back burner was practically official – my birth certificate holds no recognised Chinese name. My aunt came up with the Chinese surname I used in school, a phonetic version of Driscoll (di ke in pinyin), despite my mother's perfectly fine Chinese surname being right there, ready to be inherited.
Arab News
a day ago
- Lifestyle
- Arab News
Basmah Felemban unpacks memory, identity in Riyadh solo show ‘Vessel of Wreckage'
RIYADH: Seasoned Saudi artist Basmah Felemban's work will make you think. In her latest solo exhibition, 'Vessel of Wreckage,' which runs at ATHR Gallery in Riyadh until June 26, she combines elements that many of us can relate to while being authentically, fully herself. 'In the past five or six years, my practice has been really an investigation of my family roots from Indonesia and — kind of as a result of getting into sci-fi — to have some imaginary explanations of those reasons why they came from Indonesia to Saudi, because I failed at the factual research, really,' Felemban, who lives and works between London and Jeddah, tells Arab News. 'When did my family move? This is one of the mysteries — part of the myth of the family. I have no idea. I'd say that my granddad came to Saudi for work, probably in the Seventies. But I'd learned that Felemban, our last name, comes from an island called Palembang, so in kindergarten I used to tell people I was a princess because I'm used to, like, the Al-Saud family and Saudi Arabia, so I thought since I'm Felemban from Palembang, I must be a princess.' Growing up, Felemban assumed that they had no Saudi relatives, until her brother serendipitously found out that they had cousins in town. 'I realized, 'Oh! We do have extended family here; we're just not connected to them.' And that's also part of the myth and the lore of our family story. Once I realized that, it kind of clicked with me that our identities are really just a construct — it doesn't really matter if they're factual. I don't think my family intentionally tried to lie. I think they believed this was the story.' All of this was part of Felemban's world building. 'I think, in Hejaz in general, people came from all over and there was this whole umbrella under which we wanted to identify as 'Saudi' for a lot of time. Like, if you speak to me about anything Indonesian, I would have no idea, because my family really assimilated,' she says, adding that she hopes to visit Indonesia soon. 'I wouldn't say I feel like I'm part of a diaspora, even if I am, factually. But I think Saudi is a very specific, special case in terms of identity. I feel like I'm more interested in the family story and why their connections are the way they are. 'I didn't grow up in an environment where ours was a weird story,' she adds. 'Even my friends that are Bedouin are still also away from where they are from.' Here, Felemban talks us through several works from the show. 'Pulang (To Go Home)' There are five ship windows looking out on five different topics that I researched, from facts to absurd sci-fi stories. They're videos collected from YouTube — just rabbit holes I fell into. I really like to document my research and my notes, then my work grows like a mind map — I connect words and then try to connect concepts between those words and visuals. The first window starts with a propaganda documentary about the colonial history of Indonesia and its impact on folklore dances and music. Then a scene that a lot of my world is based on; Indonesian pilgrims reciting a religious song about the prophet. I realized that another connection between Indonesia and Saudi is catfish — another creature of myth. A few years ago, people realized that there's a lot of huge catfish in Wadi Hanifa and they started to ask: How did they come here? I like that, as a myth. In Indonesia, the catfish is a really huge asset, but also has some negative connotations. 'Fish from the Ground' This work talks about the catfish myth. They are an invasive species and tend to be really vicious and really quick to adapt, so in less than a couple of hundreds of years it was able to evolve from swimming to being able to 'walk,' almost on land. That's likely where the term 'catfishing' comes from. 'Wave Catcher' When I was approached by the Islamic Arts Biennale (in 2023), I thought, 'My work is quite futuristic, very colorful and digital, so how can (make it fit) in?' I think of this work like an ancient machine used by the catfish to collect data by listening to sounds of the calls to prayer from countries around the Red Sea. And by hearing it, the fish are able to measure distances, and study the water and such. That thought was based on research from lectures from scientists. 'The Gömböc, the Turtle and the Evolution of Shape' This is a game based on a lecture by a scientist. If you put the headphones on, you can hear the lecture and then when you reach the top of this fish mountain, there's a room that has a table that also existed in the lecture and you can interact with that. It's a video game I made with my husband. He's an economist so he helps me a lot with conceptualizing what data could be like — that kind of geeky aspect of my work. It's very experimental and it's a little bit janky — in the best way possible! 'Elemental Sprite' series These AI works — 'Sphere,' 'Rod,' 'Disc,' and 'Blade' (shown here) — are based on some of the same research as 'Wave Catcher,' which is some sort of mathematical study of pebbles and the way that pebbles change in nature. But also, if you scan one of the squares, it animates. I'm very much a digital artist at heart and AI is something I'm really interested in, but I have to say that I don't use AI in engines; I use sort of 'offline AI.' I use the modules themselves, the interfaces. Every six months, AI completely changes in quality because it really develops, and I learn more too. This is almost like a documentation of my learning curve, and of the technology itself. 'Before Asphalt' These are pictures that I stole from my dad before he passed away. He used to work at the municipality, and these were pictures from the Nineties documenting some of the potholes around Jeddah. I like to think of the city as a galaxy and the potholes as portals. The yellow looks like slime — I'm definitely a cartoon girl and this is like '(Teenaged Mutant) Ninja Turtles' sludge. I think maybe it'll appear again in another work and I'll get more into this portal idea.
Forbes
2 days ago
- General
- Forbes
From Gods To Code: A Brief History Of Human Meaning
How to find purpose in an age where even our thinking and creativity can be outsourced to AI. Fantasy Moon over ocean and mountain ridge, Far-side of the moon,Darkside of the Moon Human beings are wired to seek meaning — a subjective sense that life is coherent, purposeful, and significant (even though, in objective terms, it is none of that). From early cognitive psychologists like Jerome Bruner, who argued that we create meaning through narrative, to modern neuroscientists studying the brain's default mode network, the consensus is clear: Meaning isn't a luxury, but a psychological necessity. Indeed, meaning helps us tolerate uncertainty, make sense of chaos, and stay motivated through suffering. It also helps us make sense of ourselves and develop a sense of identity. Viktor Frankl compellingly illustrated that people can endure almost anything if they believe it has meaning. Referencing his own experiences in a Nazi concentration camp he noted 'Those who have a 'why' to live, can bear with almost any 'how'. Neurologically, meaning activates areas tied to reward, self-reflection, and emotion, integrating experiences into coherent stories. It's not given to us — we construct it, and often defend it, especially during crises. Cognitive and emotional systems work together to build and sustain these frameworks — through memory, identity, and perceived agency. Empirical studies show people find meaning most often in relationships, purposeful work, personal growth, and even suffering — particularly when it's reframed. While past societies imported meaning from religion, tradition, or social roles, modern individuals must manufacture their own. This makes meaning deeply personal, but also vulnerable to fragmentation and disillusionment. In the age of AI, where work, creativity, and cognition can be outsourced, we risk losing traditional sources of meaning without obvious replacements. With its impressive repertoire of synthetic knowledge, creativity, and intelligence, AI is forcing us to rethink what truly makes us human (in the sense of our unique capabilities and skills), and what it means to be human in an age in which we outsource even our thinking to machines. If machines can perform the tasks that once made us feel useful, valuable, and unique, what's left for us to build a life around? Furthermore, what does it mean to be human if we can be without thinking? In every era, humans have asked some version of the same question: Why am I here, and what is this all for? It's the same existential riddle posed by philosophers and pop culture alike — from Nietzsche to Tony Montana, who, after climbing the capitalist mountain in Scarface, asks what's left beyond the pile of cocaine and paranoia. Or Citizen Kane's dying whisper of 'Rosebud,' a child's sled standing in for a lost, possibly meaningless life. While the human quest of meaning is perennial, the answers have changed as dramatically as our technology, politics, and hairstyles — from gods and rituals to careers and personal brands. As AI begins to take over not just our labor, but our thinking, our creativity, and our productivity, we're left asking whether meaning itself can be outsourced, and found just one click or prompt away. To understand the scale of this moment, it helps to zoom out — way out — and trace the evolution of meaning across time. Below is a brief intellectual history of what humans have lived for, and how those sources of purpose have shifted with each transformation in how we live and work. 1. Mythic & Tribal Meaning (Prehistory – 600 BCE) Slogan: We are one with the gods. In humanity's earliest chapters, meaning was not something you found — it was something you were born into. Life was interpreted through the lens of nature, spirits, and ancestors. The world was enchanted, alive with gods, totems, and unseen forces. Purpose was communal and ritualistic. You belonged to a tribe, you played your part, and the question of individual meaning rarely emerged. The collective mattered more than the self. You knew who you were by knowing where you belonged. Think of it as the original operating system for meaning — closed-source, pre-installed, and immune to customization. Opting out wasn't a philosophical stance; it was a death sentence or, worse, exile. Today, we call it "community." Back then, it was life. 2. Religious & Divine Order (600 BCE – 1500 CE) Slogan: My purpose is God's plan. With the rise of the Axial Age came organized religions that framed human life as a moral journey, guided by divine command. Judaism, Christianity, Islam, and Hinduism all offered grand narratives in which human beings had cosmic significance. Meaning was found in obedience, sacrifice, and spiritual striving. The purpose of life wasn't invented by the individual — it was discovered in scripture. To live meaningfully was to live rightly, according to sacred law. Fulfillment came in service to a higher power. This was the theological equivalent of a franchise model: the rules came from headquarters, your job was to follow the manual, and if things went wrong, it was your fault for not having enough faith — not a flaw in the system. Think less personal startup, more divine bureaucracy: your life had a mission, but the job description was carved in stone. 3. Rationalism & Humanism (1500 – 1800) Slogan: I think, therefore I Enlightenment changed everything. Reason replaced revelation, and individuals became the new arbiters of truth. Thinkers like Descartes, Locke, and Kant argued that humans could construct meaning through intellect, ethics, and personal autonomy. The Renaissance celebrated the dignity of man; science opened new frontiers. Meaning began to shift from divine will to human capability. Life became a quest not to obey, but to understand — and to act morally out of reason, not just faith. Meaning was no longer handed down from the heavens; it was drafted, debated, and footnoted by men in powdered wigs. Humanity became its own mythmaker — the sole author, editor, and sometimes unreliable narrator of significance. It was as if the universe outsourced meaning to us, trusting we'd be rational (or at least confident) enough not to mess it up. 4. Scientific & Industrial Progress (1800 – 1945) Slogan: To work is to live. As revolutions roared and factories rose, human worth became increasingly tied to productivity. The industrial age recast people as workers — gears in the great machine of economic progress. Purpose was found in contribution: building, inventing, conquering, producing. Even philosophies of meaning (Marxism, nationalism, utilitarianism) took on a mechanistic bent. Labor was no longer just a necessity; it became an identity. Your job wasn't just what you did — it was who you were. It was the age when the soul clocked in. Humans became their CVs, and meaning punched a timecard. Fulfillment was measured not in prayers or principles, but in output per hour — a kind of existential capitalism where your worth was your work ethic, and vacation was moral suspicion. In a way, this was the analogue version of the digital revolution or data-driven capitalism. Meaning through the ages 5. Existentialism & Absurdism (1945 – 1980s) Slogan: Life is meaningless — now make it count. The aftermath of two world wars shattered many of the old certainties. God seemed silent, progress suspect. Philosophers like Camus and Sartre embraced the absurd: life has no inherent meaning, so we must create our own. This was the era of freedom and anxiety, where responsibility became the burden of the individual. Meaning was no longer handed down from on high — it was something you assembled from scratch. You were condemned to be free, and what you made of your life was entirely on you. It was as if the universe had ghosted you — no guidance, no purpose, just infinite autonomy and a vague sense that whatever you did next better be meaningful... or at least look good in a memoir. 6. Consumer Identity (1980s – 2000s) Slogan: I shop, therefore I am. As neoliberalism took hold, the market moved into the space once occupied by the sacred and the social. Identity became a product, and meaning was increasingly expressed through what you bought, wore, posted, and owned. Careers replaced work. Brands filled in for belief systems. You didn't just work a job — you crafted a meaningful lifestyle and aspired to becoming a brand. The rise of advertising, credit, and Facebook made meaning feel personal but hollow. Influencers emerged as human brands and sources of meaning. Consumption became performance, and success was measured in likes, logos, and LinkedIn endorsements. Our digital selves begun to subsume our real selves. 7. Wellbeing & Inner Growth (2000s – 2020s) Slogan: Find your truth. As burnout and disillusionment with materialism set in, a new quest began: inward. Meaning shifted from status to self-awareness, from hustle to healing. Mindfulness apps replaced religious rituals. Therapy-speak became a second language. Self-actualization became the new salvation. You were expected not only to work and consume, but to grow, evolve, and become your "authentic self." This era promised meaning through alignment — between who you are, what you do, and how you feel. This era of existential freedom—where meaning must be handcrafted from the raw materials of one's own psyche—was not without cost. As the contemporary philosopher Byung-Chul Han observes, we have transitioned from a society of repression to one of depression. No longer oppressed by external authority, we are instead crushed by the weight of limitless possibility. 'If you can be anything,' Han warns, 'then you must be everything'— a pressure that turns potential into paralysis. In the absence of fixed roles or inherited purpose, freedom becomes a tyrannical demand for self-creation. The individual is now CEO, brand, therapist, and motivational speaker all in one — like a one-person startup permanently pitching to an invisible investor called 'self-worth,' with exhaustion as the only guaranteed return on investment. 8. AI & Automation (2020s – → ) Slogan: I prompt, therefore I am. And now, we arrive at the present moment — a time in which AI, which had been in the making since the 1960s, finally woke up, going mainstream and beginning to absorb not just our labor, but our cognitive and creative functions. AI can now write, draw, analyze, strategize, and even empathize (or at least simulate it well enough to fool us). The very domains where humans once found purpose — problem-solving, innovation, self-expression — are increasingly shared with, or surrendered to, machines. We are no longer just workers or thinkers; we are prompters — directing generative systems that do the work for us. Meaning becomes mediated through interface. If AI can perform our jobs, generate our ideas, write our stories, even express our feelings — where does that leave us? Are we curators of meaning, or passive consumers of it? Can we still find fulfillment in being the prompt engineers of our own existence? Expertise is no longer about knowing the answer to many questions, but asking the right questions; and creativity, well, it is the human leftover to what AI can't do (or doesn't want to). The optimistic account is that our lives will be more fulfilling because all the boring and predictable tasks can be outsourced to AI; the pessimistic account sees us as the digital version of assembly line workers, training large language models on how to automate us, in the huge virtual factory called AI. 'Ctrl + Alt + Purpose: Rebooting Meaning in the Age of AI' Throughout history, every era has rewritten the script of human meaning — from divine decree to industrial purpose, from moral codes to personal brands. We once searched the skies, then the self; now, we consult the algorithm. Each answer reflected the technologies, fears, and fantasies of its time. But today, meaning has become strangely urgent. When machines can paint, write, and diagnose — even simulate empathy — what's left for us to be? If productivity no longer depends on us, why should purpose? Maybe this is the moment meaning finally stops being about output. Maybe our value isn't in what we produce, but in what we notice, nurture, or choose to care about — in the deliberate, non-automatable act of consciousness. Or maybe we'll just scroll past it, distracted by another synthetic dopamine hit. Either way, in a world where everything can be faked — intelligence, emotion, even purpose — the real danger isn't that AI will outthink us. It's that we'll forget the value of meaning altogether.
Telegraph
2 days ago
- Business
- Telegraph
Multicultural London has weak attachment to England
Multicultural London has a weak attachment to England, according to a new poll. Data shows that residents of the capital are instead more likely to have an affinity towards the city rather than the country as a whole. The strength of regional identities across Britain has been revealed by a YouGov survey published on Thursday. It found residents of London had the weakest attachment to the country, with less than a third (29 per cent) having a 'very strong attachment' to England. Its residents also voted that the city's 'diversity and multiculturalism' was its most 'distinctive characteristic'. This was followed up by its attractions, such as the London Eye or Big Ben, and then public transport. The findings come amid a fierce debate about the effects of mass migration into the country, with Sir Keir Starmer recently warning that Britain risked becoming an 'island of strangers' if immigration did not come down. The Prime Minister 's warning was seemingly supported by Britons, half of which said they felt multiculturalism was a threat to British identity, in a previous poll. However, despite the seeming support from large sections of the public for the comment, the Prime Minister faced backlash from some MPs who accused him of 'reflecting the language' of Enoch Powell's 'Rivers of Blood' speech. Sir Sadiq Khan, the Labour Mayor of London, also distanced himself from Sir Keir's speech while launching the Government's new plan to reduce the number of migrants coming to Britain. Asked how he felt about the comment, Sir Sadiq – who has often championed multiculturalism in the capital city – said that they 'aren't words that I would use'. Elsewhere, the YouGov poll of 4,136 adults found less than half (49 per cent) of Welsh people have a 'very strong' attachment to their country. Nearly four in 10 Londoners (38 per cent) gave the same description of their bond to the city. In England, those in the North East have the highest proportion of people (48 per cent) who have a 'very strong' attachment to their region. This is in stark contrast to East Midlands, where just over one in 10 (11 per cent) feel the same way. Both are dwarfed by residents of Scotland, where more than three in five (61 per cent) have a very strong connection to their country. However, not everyone is as happy to reside where they do. Nearly a third of those in London (30 per cent) think it is 'a little' or 'a lot' worse place to live than other parts of the UK. Those in South West England seem much more content, with 83 per cent thinking their region is 'a little' or 'a lot' better place to live than other parts of the UK.
Irish Times
2 days ago
- General
- Irish Times
Have your say: Is a woman changing surnames to her husband's ‘symbolic control' or harmless tradition?
Women keep changing their surnames to match their husbands'. Why are we normalising this symbolic control? This was the headline on a column which garnered strong reaction and debate from readers on our social media channels this week. We'd like to hear what you think. Do you think that women should keep their original surnames after they get married ? As Áine Kenny wrote: 'While women in Ireland are no longer viewed as their husband's property, changing one's surname is still a loss of identity.' Do you think it simply a harmless tradition and just like the idea of becoming a Mrs? Is it for the ease for family administration and border control with children ? Do you think it just depends on the family? READ MORE What do you think about families going double-barrelled? Or men taking their wife's surname? Whose name do you think children should use ? As Kenny says: 'I often hear women worrying that if they don't change their name, they won't have the same surname as their kids. While this is a valid concern, why are we automatically giving children just their father's surname?' Tell us your thoughts on the alternative options or what happens in same-sex marriages. 'I'm beginning to hear of another option: the couple chooses a new surname that they both take. This can be an amalgamation of their existing names, or a totally new name,' writes Kenny. You can let us know what you think using the form below. Please limit your submissions to 400 words or less. Please include a phone number for verification purposes only. If you would prefer to remain anonymous, please indicate this in your submission – we will keep your name and contact details confidential. We will curate a selection of submissions for an article but please note we may not publish every submission we receive.
