Analysis

In recent weeks, we have all experienced a state of unrest. Our eyes have been on the rising numbers of COVID-19 infections, as we try to comply with the restrictions imposed by the state of emergency. But we have also had bright moments, moments we might not have anticipated just a short time ago.

"To feel that you have meaning is to feel immortal," psychology professor and author Clay Routledge wrote in 2014. Is this the only kind of immortality we will ever have?

Some people may feel particularly inhibited in social situations. Meetings cause them stomach-aches, conversations overwhelm them with shyness, and anxiety does not allow them to utter a single word.

Elon Musk visited my hometown of Adelaide, South Australia, twice in 2017. As you’d expect, he was greeted by huge public and media interest. People were excited that our humble little city would receive attention from the man behind Paypal, Tesla and SpaceX.

After I published the analysis regarding the mirage of cryptocurrencies, I received an irresistible invitation: an IT consultant offered to give me a demonstration, in front of the laptop, of the connection between cryptocurrencies and the black market. The exercise turned into a three-hour discussion on cybersecurity and ended with unexpected conclusions about identity theft for political purposes.

It's the second time I've had to leave everything behind and flee. I am a 27-year-old designer and I live in the city of Vishhorod in the Kyiv region. I was born in the eastern Ukrainian city of Kramatorsk, in an area some people now call the Donetsk People's Republic.

But why do our ambitions of self-improvement rarely stick the way we hope they will?

A famous saying asserts that the devil is in the details—in the small things we often deem unimportant. But life revolves around the little things. They take up most of our time, betray our vices and virtues, reveal our limits and courage, and divulge our preferences and dislikes. It is in the trivial moments that we are the most authentic: when we eagerly...

During my adolescence, a Swiss author, Erich von Daniken, made waves with his theories about extra-terrestrial influences on early mankind. His most important book was called Memories of the Future. Of course, his ideas have no support today, but the idiom remains: memories of the future. Something from the past says something about what is to come.

For me, 2022 was the year of waiting—a word that managed to define our lives, thoughts and actions to an unexpected degree.

When it comes to cases where "doctors don't know what to do," the first thought that comes to mind is usually cancer. Conventional treatment, which can prolong life for a few years and sometimes just a few months, comes at a high price in the quality of life, and patients come to prefer the "natural" way: alternative medicine.

Their third wedding anniversary was just around the corner, but doctors had given Magda, belatedly diagnosed with Ewing's sarcoma, a malignant bone tumour, no chance of recovery. Yet her husband Daniel continued to believe that God still had the last word.

"On the 5th of March 1986, life left me! I was in the process of moving and that evening I felt terribly tired and cold..." (Ruth Frikart-Moor)

In Europe, one in twenty people suffer from depression, and one in four will experience depression during their lifetime. In the United States, major depressive disorder affects about five percent of the population.

In the early 1900s, the average American farmer could produce enough food to feed a family of five. Today, an American farmer can feed his own family, and roughly another 100 people. Despite this, we are at risk of encountering the impossibility of feeding a growing population on a global scale. How has it come to this, and what should we do to...