The AI gender gap should not be mischaracterized as a skill issue
By: Heidi Kwok, Staff Writer
“Raise your hand if you use AI regularly in some capacity.” The atmosphere in the classroom instantly tensed — was this seemingly harmless question actually a trap set out by our professor to weed out the academic non-believers? After what felt like minutes, several hands reluctantly shot up. Alarmingly, most of them were from the students who identified as men. Thankfully, the impromptu questionnaire did not lead to a bunch of failing grades and the lecture went forward as usual.
However, it underscored a more pressing issue with artificial intelligence (AI) use: research shows that men are more likely to adopt generative AI tools such as ChatGPT in professional settings than women. This staggering imbalance contributes to the pre-existent workplace gender gap.
These findings were published in a 2024 working paper conducted by the University of Chicago’s Becker Friedman Institute for Economics, in conjunction with the University of Copenhagen. After surveying 100,000 workers across 11 fields in Denmark, the study found that women were “less likely to use ChatGPT than men in the same occupation.” The paper also reported that women faced more “adoption barriers” to AI — but didn’t elaborate on what these barriers were — and concluded there was a need for more AI training. Other research suggests this gender divide in AI adoption is due to ethical reasons. This includes women’s concerns of being negatively perceived if caught using AI to take “shortcuts,” such as being accused of cheating and fears of being reprimanded.
What concerns me most about this gender divide in AI use is the framing around women who refuse AI. It’s not seen as an informed decision on their part, but as an assumption of incompetence and lacklustre ability to interact with AI tools.
This false narrative offers yet another excuse for employers to justify the denial of career advancement opportunities for women, including promotions, leadership roles, and wage increases, in favour of their men colleagues.
The motherhood penalty is a glaring example of how women are deemed less qualified and their labour devalued due to conflicting familial responsibilities.
The reasons behind women’s reluctance to integrate AI tools vary, but to me, the underlying misogyny being communicated by these studies is clear: women are to blame for their own incompetence — they don’t recognize the “value” AI can bring in boosting business productivity. However, contrary to these sexist surface-level assumptions, the truth is much more complex and rooted in AI’s inherent gender bias. It’s no secret that content generated by AI often reinforces gender stereotypes and excludes diverse lived experiences, since it reflects its training data, which in turn reflects a sexist world. This brings us to the question: why would women be even willing to narrow the gender gap by adopting harmful AI tools?
Misportraying women’s apprehension towards AI tools as a skill issue rather than a question of ethics is a distraction, which seeks to redirect the blame of existing workplace gender inequalities on women while overlooking the more dominant role of patriarchal systems. Simply put, women shouldn’t have to lean into the very tools that are marginalizing and recreating their oppression. Racialized women and those with temporary status are perhaps most at risk of this misleading assumption. In a volatile labour market rife with unemployment, this demographic will no doubt become the primary target of automation and the subject of the first of many layoffs to come.
AI is not a magic trick
By: Ashima Shukla, Peak Associate
Content warning: brief mentions of death, suicide, torture, and sexual assault.
Recently, Billie Eilish shared a post on Instagram about artificial intelligence that has haunted me ever since: “AI consumed more water this year than the global bottled water industry.” The post was based on a study that drew from the average metrics from global datacentres. Although these Big-Tech-sanctioned datacentres only provide vague estimates, we know the rate at which AI is depleting our environmental resources is massive, and growing. The post shook me because AI is so often normalized in the public consciousness. We are encouraged to experience it as wonder. A magic trick, a new game.
I hear of people using generative AI to write books, design lesson plans, build training modules for workplaces, plan meals, and set budgets. As a teaching assistant, I hear of my students using it to summarize lectures and explain concepts quickly. Each click results in an ontological rupture. We’re rapidly losing our ability to differentiate between real and AI-generated visuals, and with it, our grasp on reality.
It isn’t just being used by young people. Visiting home for the holidays, I have noticed my grandmother watching hours of YouTube videos about Hinduism, where every image and animation is generated by AI. Blue-skinned Krishna and a surprisingly blue-eyed Lakshmi stared back at me from the screen. Gods are rendered by machines. Mythologies and cultures are filtered through code. Devotion is now a humming server somewhere far away.
But for all its pervasiveness, do we actually know how it works? And more importantly, what it costs?
When you type a query into ChatGPT, the system doesn’t “think.” Each word is broken down,, and mapped in relation to others across datasets. This process happens somewhere physical: inside datacentres. These are industrial-scale buildings that house servers, storage devices, and networking equipment. Hyperscale facilities, like those owned by Amazon and Google, can span over 30,000 square feet. This isn’t happening in some faraway nation. Bell Canada is building six datacentres in BC. Northern Virginia, the most densely concentrated datacentre spot in the world, hosts more than 250 of them.
These datacentres require staggering amounts of electricity to work. Each ChatGPT query uses ten times more energy than a Google search, not to mention the loads of energy used to train these AI models to begin with. Most power grids rely on fossil fuels, emissions which degrade air quality and release toxic pollutants into the air, harming the health of nearby communities. That isn’t all — as the datacentres disrupt local electric grids, one report estimates that residential electricity bills could more than double in Virginia by 2039. Innovation for some, once again, makes basic amenities unaffordable for others.
Then there is water. Powering AI models generates immense heat, which is cooled using freshwater.
A 100-word email generated by ChatGPT comes at the expense of 16.9 ounces of water, in a world where nearly a quarter of humanity lacks access to clean water.
Meanwhile, the extraction of rare earth elements required to build AI hardware is mined through processes that are environmentally destructive and often exploitative.
The environmental footprint of GenAI is immense, yet the information about it remains strategically opaque. This is because Big Tech benefits from selling AI as efficient, creative, and inevitable, while obscuring the material and ecological violence that sustains it. We haven’t even seen the full story. Behind the clean minimalist interfaces and cheerful subservient AI chatbots lies another hidden cost: that of human labour.
Picture Mercy, a content moderator in Nairobi, working for Meta through an outsourced firm where her role is to process one piece of flagged content every 55 seconds over a 10-hour shift. Her life revolves around mundane, repetitive labour that helps train AI and yields little over a dollar an hour. Because of a lack of other opportunities, she persists. While reviewing a video of a fatal car crash uploaded to Facebook, familiar scenes flash before her eyes. Her neighbourhood, and the victim? Her grandfather. The same footage floods her screen from different angles, reposted endlessly.
Think about Oskarina Fuentes, who joins one such outsourcing firm while finishing her master’s in engineering in Venezuela. Her country’s economic collapse forces her and her husband to cross over to Colombia. Hopes for good jobs disintegrate rapidly, as does her health, and soon, the task of labelling data is all that is keeping her afloat. The erratic nature of this task-based work controls her life, as she stops leaving the housing during weekdays and begins sleeping with her computer on full volume nearby.
Then there is Sunita, sitting on the floor of her home in Jharkhand, India, drawing digital boxes marking up traffic lights and cars she has never seen in real life. Her clicks train Tesla AI systems that recognize objects in cities she will never visit. Do you notice a pattern?
Across the Global South, these stories converge. Moderators and data labellers perform mundane tasks for hours for pennies, while others witness graphic violence, suicides, torture, and sexual assault for hours every day to make our feeds and our experiences with GenAI cleaner and more appropriate. Many have no idea how their work will be used, or other options to put food on the table, labelling data for military software for targeting killings in Gaza or helping Russian surveillance companies train facial recognition software.
The AI economy mirrors colonial hierarchies, as data and labour flows from the Global South to fuel “innovation” and profit in the Global North. The work is framed as an “opportunity” for these workers, yet it remains underpaid, precarious, and largely unregulated. In the absence of unions and protections, these workers become trapped in exploitative conditions. Anthropologist Mary Grey has called it “ghost work,” essential and systemically invisiblized. If you knew that data labellers are committing suicide because of the harrowing content they label to make our experiences with GenAI safe, would you reach for it as easily as you do now?
If AI feels inevitable, it is because we are trained to encounter it only at the level of convenience. Because magic works best when no one asks what is happening behind the curtain.
This is why education about AI cannot be reduced to technical literacy. We must confront its environmental costs, its labour supply chains, and its geopolitical consequences. We must ask where the data comes from, whose knowledge is erased, whose labour, water, land, and time are hidden behind this “innovation.” Regulation should be a fundamental part of this reckoning. But without public understanding, regulation can be brittle — to be delayed and lobbied away.
Education, in contrast, builds the conditions for sustained resistance. It gives people language. It gives us context. It gives us the ability to choose otherwise. And this discomfort might just be what is needed for imagining ethical technological futures.
Supernatural shows worth watching and rewatching

By: Zainab Salam, Opinions Editor
If you find yourself yearning for stories that traverse the extramundane, I think you’ll find new worlds to explore in this list. These television shows combine humour with supernatural phenomena in superb storytelling. Blending the fantastic with the deeply human, they turn angels, ghosts, and vampires into relatable companions. As winter passes idly by,
These shows are perfect for taking you away from your assignments and the cold.
Whether you’re in the mood for clever satire, philosophical comedy, spirited hauntings, or absurd vampire antics, they offer a refreshing blend of laughs and imagination that will keep you entertained long after the credits roll. They’re also perfect for rewatches when you don’t want to go through the trouble of searching for a new show during busy days of the spring term.
Good Omens (2019–present)
Good Omens follows the unlikely allies Aziraphale, an angel, and Crowley, a demon, who have grown fond of life on Earth and the comforts of humanity. Their long-standing relationship, sharp banter, and ever-conflicting loyalties to Heaven and Hell showcase an incredibly fun blend of satire. The show is a tapestry of faint biblical lore, dry wit, and absurdist humour. The characters navigate their earthly comforts and divine anxieties while attempting to prevent the end of the world together, resulting in a story that is both playful and tender.
Ghosts (2021–present)
In continuation with the afterlife theme, the US version of Ghosts (adapted from Ghosts UK) offers a heartwarming, supernatural ensemble comedy. Sam and Jay Arondekar inherit a sprawling (but timeworn) country mansion they hope to turn into a bed-and-breakfast. But they discover an eclectic group of ghosts from different eras of history already lives there. After a near-death experience gives Sam the ability to see and communicate with the spirits, the couple must learn to coexist with their ghost roommates. In a slight departure from the dry humour abundant in the UK version, the US adaptation emphasizes emotional warmth. Notably, the inclusion of a Lenape ghost Sassapis allows for education about the history of Turtle Island.
What We Do in the Shadows (2019–2024)
In a mock-documentary style, this show is for those who enjoy supernatural elements with a heavy dose of irreverence, gore, and absurdity. The series follows four centuries-old vampires: Nandor the Relentless, Laszlo Cravensworth, Nadja, and (my favourite) energy vampire Colin Robinson. The vampires live together in Staten Island, New York, alongside Nandor’s long-suffering familiar, Guillermo De La Cruz. The show highlights the contrast between the undead’s archaic sensibilities and everyday life’s banalities. From navigating modern bureaucracy to misunderstanding workplace etiquette, the vampires’ attempts to adapt repeatedly collapse into chaos. Beneath the shock humour and explicitness (I really don’t recommend you watch this with your parental figures), the series also explores themes of loyalty, exploitation, and chosen family. Ironically, the undead vampires continuously evolve and develop their humanity throughout the series’ run.
It’s fucking simple: How to NOT spray your fellow transit riders with your yucky umbrella water
By: Mason Mattu, Humour Editor
It’s 8:10 a.m. — I just woke up literally an hour ago. I’m crinkling up the aluminum foil which once carried a beautiful peanut butter and jelly sandwich. As the West Coast Express train approaches the platform at Coquitlam Central Station, I feel the wind blow against my damp hair. The train comes to a stop and people gather around one of the many doors, waiting patiently for it to open.
I politely close my umbrella and shake off the rain, aiming the excess water onto the ground before the door opens. Eh, I get a dollop of rain on myself . . . but whatever. It’s just water. It’s all in the name of courtesy! As the door opens, the lady in front of me still has her umbrella open. As she enters the train, she shakes that umbrella up in the air and water gets all over my body. LADY. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?
We’re not talking about a dollop anymore. This is fucking Noah’s flood. I hear sounds akin to Sue’s dramatic tantrum music on Glee. This commuter doesn’t even look back at me or signal any sign of apology — she instead cuts off another person trying to walk to the upstairs of the train. I would normally say this is war, but I’m a good Canadian. Instead of squaring up, I write angry, subpar humour articles.
Listen, you cool cats and kittens. This is not a very posh thing to do. This is lowkey a crime against humanity. Never in a million years did I think I would have to write a fucking article on how to close your umbrella on public transit. What’s even sadder is that this now happens at least ONCE A WEEK on the West Coast Express. You business people sure do have nerve. I’ve simplified umbrella etiquette for all those who MIGHT need a little refresher.
STEP 1: ANGLE AND SHAKE
Point umbrella down. Yes, umbrella down. This isn’t a rave — no need to put your hands in the air like you really don’t care (about your fellow passengers). Good. Now, collapse umbrella. Shake umbrella toward ground. Not up! Not sideways! Not on the baby sitting in the stroller next to you (I think the child would drown) — DOWN! Good job!! You get a sticker!!
STEP 2: TIE YOUR UMBRELLA
Wrap strap around umbrella. Buckle it, button it, fasten it, whatever your umbrella prefers. Maybe shake again. Not up! Not sideways! Not on the old lady struggling to step up to the train! Good downtown business person!
That’s literally it. Two simple steps. I don’t know about y’all, but I’m not at all interested in getting soaking wet after making a visible effort to be dry by carrying my umbrella.
If the lady who did this to me knew she was in the wrong, then I hope both sides of her pillow are as warm as expired clam chowder tonight. For the rest of you, I hope you now see the fucking simple solution to this problem.
Pineapples defy new pizza permission policy
By: Maya Papaya
On Friday, Burnaby witnessed its 67th protest concerning pizza purist legislation. Bill C-XX, a provincial law restricting the allowed composition of pizza configurations to cheese and meat (Section X,xx: Only animal products and byproducts may be used to garnish, decorate, or enhance a pizza), has been met with defiance by controversial ideological groups.
Pizzerias affiliated with Big Pizza have released almost identical statements that diverse toppings no longer align with their mission statement. In the wake of this policy, all pizza permitted since late 2025 has been plain or pepperoni. Big Pizza has not responded for comment.
“It’s absurd,” Philomena Piña told The Peak at her pineapple mega-farm. “My family has been permitted to garnish, decorate, and enhance pizza for generations. We elevate pizza from a simple food to something artisan.” The young pineapple advocate sneered while reciting a clause from the legislation written on a napkin from a pizzeria. “If I am no longer permitted on pizza, it’s perspicuous that any kind of subversion is not respected in this society. How can we call that progress?”
Piña comes from a prominent family. Her estate is responsible for pushing pineapple-themed products into boutique grocery stores, but Piña herself has been implicated in several pizza scandals before. In 2020, she passionately promoted Swedish banana pizza from a burner TikTok account to distract from anti-pineapple groups. Now, in 2026, banana pizza has faded into irrelevance, and pineapple remains contentious in the social-culinary scene.
The pepperoni and pineapple feud has been prominent in the press. Pepperoni gang members have been flaunting their recent popularity: just last Super Bowl, Porsche produced a commercial where their all-new 2026 Panamera had been modelled out of a six-foot-long hotdog. “Why are hotdogs associated with luxury? I’m a tropical fruit, dammit! It takes years to grow a pineapple from a seed, and the soil acidity needs to be just right. To insinuate that pizza is above me is insulting!” Piña screamed at our correspondent. When The Peak asked why she is so adamant about being included in the layperson’s meal if she is so posh, Piña shot our correspondent a peevish look. “I should be allowed to work in the pizza sector if I choose, the same way Eric Blair renamed himself George Orwell and lived among the indigent in 1920s Paris. But I really do believe I am doing pizza a service as a whole, generously improving the flavour palette.”
Seeing Metrotown ablaze with protesters conceals the heart of the issue. In the face of spectacle, the public has been led to believe one must choose pepperoni or pineapple. “When my grandfather came to Canada, he fell in love with a pineapple,” a pepperoni gang member (anonymous for privacy) tells me. “I was alienated by people that didn’t understand me. I think people are apprehensive about new ideas, but the truth is there is perfect harmony found when sweet, tangy fruit and salty meat are put together.”
SFU moves forward to leave the NCAA
By: Lucaiah Smith-Miodownik, News Writer
On September 17, SFU announced that the university was considering leaving the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA), the collegiate sports governing body of which Simon Fraser is the only non-American institution. The press release drew notable pushback, garnering opposition from the SFU Student-Athlete Advisory Committee (SAAC) and the Simon Fraser Student Society (SFSS) alike.
As part of this decision, SFU commissioned an independent report led by Bob Copeland, senior vice-president of McLaren Global Sports Solutions Inc., to examine “the impacts of joining U Sports and/or other Canadian competitive frameworks.” U Sports is a governing body of university sports, with a distinct structure, rules, and philosophy from the NCAA.
The report was delivered on November 17. Nine days later, the university released a decision: Canada’s NCAA team will move forward to rejoin U Sports in 2027, leaving behind more than 50 years of international competition.
Copeland’s report found that “SFU projects a $20 million deficit in 2025–26 and the department [of athletics and recreation] is facing a $1 million budget cut over the next five years.” Transitioning to U Sports would result in annual savings of $1,108,798, according to the findings. Notably, $575,695 of this total would come from discontinuing men’s and women’s golf and softball, though multiple coaches commented that, even if SFU remains in the NCAA, “the department must cut varsity teams in order to be more competitive.” U Sports also does not sponsor outdoor track, meaning these teams would be cut as well.
The Peak corresponded with SAAC president Jordan Thorsen for student input on the university’s choice. “Our view was that the report was incomplete in several areas and did not represent the full picture. We addressed these shortcomings directly in our response and were confident in the arguments we put forward,” said Thorsen.
In their open letter to the university, the SAAC and SFSS addressed the financial concerns mentioned above. They stated that “SFU Athletics comprises less than 1% of the university’s annual expenditure and is largely funded by the student-paid Recreation and Athletics Fee.” The letter also noted that “the university routinely manages operational expenditures and revenue activities in US dollars in research, procurement, investment, and academic partnership contexts. The financial mechanisms to manage currency exposure already exist at the institutional level.”
As well, the SAAC and SFSS response stated that “SFU has not given the department of athletics and recreation the opportunity to become more financially self-sufficient within the NCAA framework.”
Concerns regarding human rights were also explored. In February 2025, the NCAA updated its policy to include a clause that “a student-athlete assigned male at birth may not compete on a women’s team.” Alternatively, U Sports policy “allows student-athletes to compete as their sex assigned at birth or their gender identity.” The open letter noted, however, that “transgender women are barred from participating in female competitions in Alberta” and “withdrawing from the NCAA would not resolve the complexities of supporting trans athletes.”
Moving forward, Thorsen noted that the SAAC has “met with senior administration at SFU to discuss the transition process, including how to ensure adequate resources for student-athletes during what has been a difficult period for many, and to determine next steps toward a smooth and successful transition back into the U Sports framework.
“We will be working to preserve as many of the benefits of the NCAA model as possible while collaborating with the university to ensure student-athletes are positioned to succeed.
“We hope the university will work with us to make SFU a successful athletic program, regardless of competitive affiliation.”
— Jordan Thorsen, Student-Athlete Advisory Committee president
Premier Eby rejects further discussion on proportional representation
By: Niveja Assalaarachchi, News Writer
In BC, the debate around adopting a different electoral system has been ongoing for two decades. To this end, the New Democratic Party (NDP) set up a legislative committee in April 2025 to examine the province’s transition from the first-past-the-post system to proportional representation.
The committee was one of the many concessions that the NDP agreed to as part of their confidence and supply agreement with the BC Greens following the 2024 election results. Eby’s party achieved a narrow majority in the legislature in that election.
However, in December 2025, the Vancouver Sun reported that Premier David Eby rejected a suggestion to “establish a peoples’ assembly on electoral reform.”
The committee, which received 1,000 submissions of public consultation, recommended the government establish a people’s assembly to look further into the matter. Eby said that he had no interest in reopening it.
The Peak spoke with Nicolas Kenny, a professor of history at SFU specializing in Canadian and BC politics, urban history, and Canadian history, to understand Eby’s decision.
Kenny pointed out that proportional representation was put forward to voters multiple times in recent years, and the latest push would have seemed excessive. The province saw public referendums on the matter in 2005, 2009, and 2018, which saw voters reject the proposal in large numbers. “There’s a sense that that file is closed, and it’s time to move on. I don’t think it’s necessarily closed for good — these things can always reappear in the future, but there doesn’t seem to be much political appetite for it right now,” he said.
The professor also said that Eby’s decision to disregard the Green-backed proposal could indicate a shift in political priorities. “It’s a negotiating tactic with the Greens, a way to say that the issue is off the table for us, maybe there’s other things we can talk about.” He also said the rejection of proportional representation could show that the NDP government sees the Greens’ power in the legislature as “limited.”
As well, with the current trade war between Canada and the US, Kenny mentioned that the government’s focus moved away from topics like proportional representation.
Overall, he pointed out that the reasons for rejecting proportional representation had ties to historical connections following elections: “Proportional representation is used throughout the world and in various democracies. Here in Canada, we sort of inherited the British model of parliamentary democracy, which is based on the first-past-the-post system.”
“When you’ve had a system in place for almost 200 years, it’s hard to radically change it because our system is set up this way, people understand it and are accustomed to voting this way. So, changing something that is so entrenched is gonna be a tall order for whoever decides to bring it up again in the future.”
— Nicolas Kenny, professor of history at SFU
Iranians demand democracy
By: Artin Safai, SFU Student
On December 28, 2025, merchants in Tehran’s Grand Baazaar organized a strike to protest against economic instability and currency depreciation. As of January 11, 2026, there have been major protests all over Iran. In a recent escalation of violence against protestors, the government shut down almost all internet access and telephone lines — completely alienating protestors from the outside world and each other. Death tolls have increased drastically during this shutdown and while there is no precise data available, what is clear is state violence has escalated. While the protests’ roots were economic, exacerbated by US sanctions and the Iranian government’s own economic mismanagement, the streets of Iran’s cities quickly filled with Iranians demonstrating dissatisfaction with the oppressive regime’s policies. This has resulted in a reinvigoration of anti-Islamic Republic sentiment. While Iranian people are fighting in the streets for democracy, anti-democratic opposition forces have claimed leadership of these protests.
Today, the struggle for Iranian democracy is fought on two fronts. On one side, there’s the important battle against the authoritarian, anti-democratic regime of the Islamic Republic being fought by the brave youth, women, and workers of Iran. On the other side, there’s the battle against right-wing extremism that uses nostalgia to bring about an undesirable future for Iranians: a Western-backed government with repressive policies for ethnic minorities, democratic political forces, and the working class.
The Iranian regime’s narrative that protests are being fuelled entirely by foreign forces is a fallacy. A lack of opportunities, rampant corruption, and tight control on civil liberties have been choking the younger generation to a point of revolt. Generations of Iranians have taken to the streets to bring about political change in the country several times over the past four decades. Women, while comprising approximately 72% of unemployed university graduates, find it disproportionately difficult to integrate into the labour force and other fields. This is due to the patriarchal nature of Iran’s socio-political life, partly driven by the government’s failure to alleviate disparities between men and women and materialize gender equality through policy. Workers and merchants are also unhappy as wages shrink, economic stability wanes, and purchasing power plummets daily.
On the other hand, a joint effort by Western and diaspora media outlets has set out to impose a false ideological hegemony on the nature of protests in Iran. Outlets like Manoto, BBC Persian, Iran International, and some other media outlets in the West have been pushing Reza Pahlavi, Crown Prince of Iran’s previously toppled monarchy, as the de facto leader of the resistance movement against the Islamic Republic. Not only is this a false narrative, it also creates a false duality between monarchy and Islamic Republic that silences democratic voices.
Many Iranians and their political groups have been at the forefront of the fight against the tyranny of the Islamic Republic. Statements, from The Union of Arts Students in Azad University of Tehran, Union of Bus Drivers, and Isfahan University students explicitly reject foreign meddling and monarchy. Yet through various tactics and some real support in Iran’s diaspora population, the monarchist camp — the far-right political force against the Islamic Republic and closely tied to Israel’s genocidal state — has falsely claimed political leadership.
While Pahlavi and his supporters are riding the wave of protests with the promises of future liberal democracy in Iran, The Emergency Booklet, a guide to post-Islamic Republic political transition in Iran published by Pahlavi’s circle, raises some troubling questions. The booklet puts Pahlavi in the centre of power in this “emergency” period of transition — with no stated end date. There will be two choices: constitutional monarchy or republican democracy. A predetermined, vague choice with no participation of the people in its framework or organization.
Even if we disregard the shortcomings and power grabs, the idea of a constitutional monarchy such as the ones we see in Europe is a hollow idea in Iran’s context. The reason countries such as the United Kingdom have constitutional monarchies is due to a centuries-long struggle waged by democratic forces against monarchic authority. Such a government cannot be created overnight.
The only viable option for Iranians in their struggle for democracy and self-determination is the establishment of people’s agency within the country. This would create space for democratic dialogue in a post-Islamic Republic Iran. This path aligns neither with the interests of the oppressive regime currently in power, nor the Western-backed forces seeking foreign meddling and intervention. It is crucial that both Iranians and non-Iranians be vigilant against narratives being manufactured by forces that do not seek democracy and people’s power in Iran.
No, Iranians in Iran do not seek foreign intervention or bombardment; they do not invite foreign meddling back into their country, or seek a return to monarchy.
The solution is clear: a coalition built around democracy, human rights, economic justice, and progressive principles. Through unity, Iranian democratic and anti-Monarchist forces must distinguish themselves from a movement that is not willing to hear them nor accept them. Progressives are not on the fringes of Iran’s revolutionary movement; they are only being portrayed as such. Only through unity and organization can we fight the two-front battle against right-wing extremism — whether theocratic or monarchic.
Long Story Short: I’m learning to redefine my understanding of rest
By: Ella Pendlington, SFU Student
Content warning: brief mention of slavery.
I knew beginning university would be a big change. Now that I’ve finished my first semester, I wouldn’t say it’s the content that’s been the biggest challenge, but the pressure that has suddenly been put on me. I took three courses while working one to two shifts a week, and at times, this was enough for me to feel overstimulated. Yet when I looked at my peers, it felt as though I wasn’t doing enough. Perhaps they too were struggling, but just didn’t show it.
According to Universities Canada, burnout is an experience that close to 90% of university students will encounter. Most students are worn out — mentally, physically, spiritually, or perhaps all three — yet continue to work their hardest at an unsustainable pace. Surviving on caffeine and pulling all-nighters have become the norm. We’re often so busy we forget to take the time to rest, but it’s essential for our well-being.
Only during my recent time off did I realize just how tired I was. Tired from schoolwork, but also from all of the time I had spent worrying about the future. Family members and friends assured me university would be a place to explore, learn, take unique classes, have fun, and eventually (keyword being “eventually”) figure out your area of study. However, it feels as if there’s an expectation to have a rough plan for your future as soon as you start your first term, with people constantly asking, “What’s your major?” Meanwhile, I feel I’ve barely scratched the surface of all the subjects I can explore in the arts.
When I was off school for winter break, I could spend time doing what I actually wanted to do. Taking things slower, I reconnected with myself. With no deadlines looming over me, I truly rested.
Grind culture describes the mindset that overworking is the only path to success. When I reflect on it, I realize how much time I have spent basing my worth to what I have accomplished. The issue with this mindset is that over time you come to feel like you’re never doing enough.
Tricia Hersey, activist, theologian, and author of Rest is Resistance: a Manifesto, explains in NPR Life Kit’s podcast that grind culture is rooted in white supremacy and capitalism. The exploitation of people for profit and the treatment of people as machines can be traced back to the Transatlantic slave trade. Hersey reflects on how her ancestors disrupted the system by slowing down production on cotton plantations. For Hersey, rest is a form of racial healing. Growing up, she was taught she had to work 10 times harder than her other classmates because, as a Black person, she’d have to navigate systemic racism.
That’s one big takeaway from Hersey’s work, and something I’m trying to teach myself: rest isn’t something we earn. We rest “simply because it’s our divine and human right to do so,” says Hersey. Hersey is also the founder of Nap Ministry, an organization dedicated to the healing power of rest and rest as resistance. It began in 2016 when, after experiencing burnout while in seminary, working and raising her child, she held a performance art piece where strangers napped in public.
In choosing rest, we’re pushing back against an ideology that is rooted in racism and exploitation. Prioritizing relationships with family and friends, choosing to sleep rather than cram for an exam, learning and practising how to say no — these are all acts of resistance. Quiet quitting, which has to do with going to work and giving enough, but not necessarily going above and beyond, is one way people today are actively resisting capitalism in a system that expects unsustainable productivity to earn a living.
To me, rest is about connecting and reconnecting with oneself; therefore, it may look different for people.
Sleep is only one form of rest. While undoubtedly important for both our mental and physical health, rest is anything we’re truly doing for ourselves that isn’t keeping us on capitalism’s clock. Watching a favourite TV show or movie that you’ve seen multiple times but brings comfort, or putting on headphones and listening to music while going for a long walk are a few things I love to do.
The university setting is a fast-paced environment that isn’t built for everyone to succeed. If I’m feeling the way I am one semester into my degree, I think this reflects a need to change what, arguably, is a toxic setting. According to Hersey, choosing to rest and being able to rest peacefully requires a complete culture shift.
Not everyone has the privilege of being able to rest and take on less without consequence. Just because you choose to take the time to slow down doesn’t mean the rest of the world does. It’s also not easy to choose rest when you see others around you doing more. It’s human nature to look at others to discern if we’re doing enough. But the truth is, everyone is on their own journey, works at their own pace, and some people face more systemic barriers than others.
Hersey teaches us that in order to reframe our understandings, we must choose to “rest through the guilt and shame” that may come up, and recognize that those feelings are evidence of our brainwashing. According to her, reclaiming rest requires a “slow uncovering, a slow mercy and grace towards yourself.”
As a society we not only need to recognize the importance of rest, but prioritize it. Many people end up changing their majors as they progress through their degree, which is proof that we don’t always know what our futures hold. As the new year begins, I believe we all need to be more gentle with ourselves and with each other. One of the ways I’m planning to prioritize rest is to establish a reading routine, where I set aside time every night to wind down with a personal book before bed. I hope you too allow yourself to slow down and rest in whatever way you choose to do so. You deserve it.












