Home Blog Page 23

Understanding Bill C-2

0
This is a photo of a bunch of people protesting, with one large sign reading, “No One is Illegal.”
PHOTO: Maciej Prus / Pexels

By: Lucaiah Smith-Miodownik, News Writer

For many, the newly proposed Bill C-2 (also known as the Strong Borders Act) is cause for concern. According to a joint press release, it has received pushback from over 300 organizations. 

The federal government has touted the bill as a way to “strengthen our laws and keep Canadians safe by ensuring law enforcement has the right tools to keep our borders secure, combat transnational organized crime, stop the flow of illegal fentanyl, and crack down on money laundering.” The bill proposes a wide range of national security measures, including expanded surveillance powers, broader data collection and analysis, enhanced information sharing between federal and foreign government agencies, and changes to asylum claims. 

Among the organizations urging the federal government to withdraw Bill C-2 is the British Columbia Civil Liberties Association (BCCLA), which aims to preserve and further “civil liberties and human rights.” The joint letter describes the bill as “a multi-pronged assault on the basic human rights and freedoms Canada holds dear,” as it “weakens our constitutional foundations on firmly domestic matters, including an enormous and unjustified expansion of power for police and Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS) to access the data, mail, and communication patterns.”

The Peak spoke with Aislin Jackson, a staff lawyer in BCCLA’s policy department, for more information.

Bill C-2 is “an omnibus bill that touches on a bunch of different areas that are only vaguely related to one another,” Jackson said. But, they acknowledged that “some of the information sharing provisions that are in the bill could potentially be defended. When it comes to being able to information share within the government, that could make a lot of sense.” 

However, “on privacy grounds, I would expect there to be constitutional challenges to this legislation,” they said, referencing parts 14 and 15 of the bill. 

Part 14 concerns the “timely gathering and production of data and information during an investigation,” while part 15 establishes the “Supporting Authorized Access to Information Act.”

Jackson said these are “new powers for police and CSIS to demand information, including warrantless powers. The new act in part 15 “would allow for secret orders to be made, requiring companies to potentially gather information they otherwise wouldn’t.” 

This ability “raises the spectre of not only potentially undermining cybersecurity and muzzling these companies from being able to disclose those changes to their clients, but also conscripting these private companies into the surveillance state,” Jackson added.

“The most vulnerable people are affected, but also all of us in terms of our privacy rights.” — Aislin Jackson, staff lawyer, British Columbia Civil Liberties Association

In its current form, the bill would allow companies to not only obtain “information from online service providers, but potentially analog service providers” without “ever going in front of a court to be reviewed for charter compliance.” This includes data from “a niche dating site” or “a support message board for a particular medical condition that you have.” 

So, the act “is in tension with our charter values, especially relating to informational privacy,” Jackson said. The Peak reached out to the Minister of Public Safety, who proposed the bill, and was directed to the Department of Justice Canada. The department said, “The charter statement for Bill C-2 explains some of the considerations that support the reasonableness of the legislative proposals.” They also said “care was taken to strike a balance” between “state interest” and “its impacts on privacy interests” in developing Bill C-2.

“In many ways, it seems like we’re falling into this race to the bottom in terms of privacy protections and also the refugee provisions as well, like the one-year time window that people have from first entering Canada to making a claim.” 

The part of the bill relevant to refugee status referenced by Jackson “means that there we’re not just coming down towards the US level, because they also have a one-year ban,” but becoming even stricter than the US. Under Bill C-2, “asylum claims would also have to be made within a year of entering the country, including for international students and temporary residents.” 

Jackson described a hypothetical scenario in which “someone came here as a tourist, and then years later became a human rights advocate, or perhaps came out as queer, or the conditions on the ground in their country might change due to a foreign invasion or an international coup.” Since a year had already lapsed, that person would not be eligible for asylum despite their need and qualification as a refugee.

“The most vulnerable people are affected, but also all of us in terms of our privacy rights,” Jackson said. “Our behaviour [would be] distorted by the feeling of those eyes on us, even if we’re not actively being surveilled at that moment. It calls to mind Michel Foucault’s idea of the Panopticon,” they added, “a digital panopticon that everyone’s living in at all times.” 

The Peak was also directed to Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada for a statement. They said Bill C-2 will help “streamline the application process at all points of entry; refer complete claims to the Immigration and Refugee Board of Canada more quickly; improve decision timelines and remove inactive cases from the system; [and] facilitate voluntary departures and support vulnerable claimants.” They stated “these reforms reflect the government’s ongoing commitment to a fair, efficient, and rules-based asylum system that meets today’s migration challenges.”

Jackson encourages those concerned to write to their MPs. 

“Public pushback is one of the ways that when really problematic legal access provisions have come up in the past, they’ve been defeated.”

What Grinds Our Knees: Being too tall

0
an illustration of a person laying in bed, under the covers, with their feet sticking out because they’re too tall!
ILLUSTRATION: Victoria Lo / The Peak

By: Daniel Salcedo Rubio, Features Editor

Being tall might be something many want, but honestly, it’s a full-time curse. My knees? Crunchier than a Nature Valley granola bar. Running? Please. I’m one bad jog away from all my joints crumbling like a Nature Valley granola bar. Lower back? Falling apart faster than a Nature Valley granola bar. And to top it all off, I’m also more likely to get cancer just because I have more cells. Like, damn, can I live please?

And it doesn’t end with physiology. The world is just not made for people my height. I know, I’m an outlier, but it’s still so annoying that there are barely any accommodations. Most forms of seated transportation will likely be irritating at best, and nerve-damaging at worst. Once, on an eight-hour bus trip from Paris to Berlin, not a single seat had enough space for me to sit. Can’t sit, yet I can’t stand either — not like I would’ve been able to. So, I cramped my lower body into a seat, knees pressed flat against the seat ahead, calves numb. Any prospects of ever competing in the Olympics are gone. 

Once, while doing a fitting for a disposable hazmat suit for a human tissue culture course, I couldn’t fit into the largest available size and had to be excluded from the practical section of the course — too tall for science.

So yeah, I guess it really is true that the grass is always greener on the other side — or maybe the weather is nicer at another height?

We are the folk: the 48th Vancouver Folk Music Festival returns to Jericho Beach

0
This is a photo of a folk music festival scene
PHOTO: Amar Preciado / Pexels

By: Ashima Shukla, Staff Writer

From July 18–20, the salt-kissed shores of ʔəy̓alməxʷ / Iy̓ál̓mexw (Jericho Beach Park) will become a living, breathing experiment in togetherness — a place where folk music exists not merely as a genre but as a way of being — in an act of community resilience, with a brilliant blur of genres and geographies.

Forefronting Indigenous voices, the festival’s lineup is as sprawling and interconnected as a forest root system. You might want to listen to the electrifying fusion of Moroccan folk and Gnawa rhythm with psychedelic blues-rock by Bab L’ Bluz, or find yourself moved to tears with Elisapie’s hauntingly intimate Inuktitut-language reinterpretations of classic rock songs. Or, you might be drawn to the local folk sounds of Ocie Elliot or the dreamy acoustic harmonies of The Milk Carton Kids

And that’s just the start. Saturday night brings Scottish fusion from Shooglenifty and Sunday the retro-rock yet soulful sounds from the UK-based band, The Heavy Heavy. For the true indie lovers, catch Vancouver’s own high-energy Colombian and Mexican folk fusion from Locarno or Montreal’s Bel and Quinn, who blend Haitian traditions with Jazz, in a reminder of the diasporic spirit of Canada. 

Yes, it is a celebration of traditional and contemporary folk music, with over 40 artists. But it is also a celebration of community, with dancing, storytelling, and food. During the festival, you can visit the Artisan Market and Community Village and learn about diverse organizations building a better world, from West Coast Environmental Law to SFU’s community radio station, CJSF 90.1 FM. Or, amid corporate monopolies, you can shop from ethical local artisans and artists. There is a whole range of these to choose from, including African Fair Trade that imports soap, shampoo, and skin lotion from Senegal and Ghana and Bird Brothers Philanthropic Trading Company that sells hand-made clothing by hill tribe peoples in Southeast Asia such as the Hmong. Through supporting such initiatives, you can participate in building micro-economies of care and support causes and underrepresented voices from around the world. 

In this weekend escape full of life, you might glimpse a way forward — a future made by hands, voices, and shared breath by the southern shores of English Bay.

You’ll also find rich local flavors with vendors like Felt You Up, who use natural dyes and leaves from the Sunshine Coast to print patterns on scarves, or Thundercloud designs, who offer original Anishinaabe art. Each booth tells a story; each purchase allows you to envision a different world. 

Beyond music and culture, the festival honours its commitment to inclusivity with the Little Folks Village, where children of all ages can participate in free-spirited music, storytelling, play, and crafts. All day during the festival weekend, various activities invite you to disconnect from our obsession with productivity. Be on the look out for Pete “Redbird” Graham and his stilting family, juggling and starting sing-alongs, or get grooving with marimba ensembles from the Sarah McLachlan School of Music and the Saint James Music Academy. Learn unexpected lessons about interconnectedness from Kung Jaadee, a Haida storyteller who loves sharing many Haida and Squamish stories, or find yourself mesmerized by Angela Brown’s Nylon Zoo puppet shows. 

For three days, the lines blur between performer and audience, global and local, art and life. Folk music isn’t something we simply stream but something we actively take part in. In this weekend escape full of life, you might glimpse a way forward — a future made by hands, voices, and shared breath by the southern shores of English Bay. 

So come. Stay for a set or a stilt lesson. Stay for the possibility that strangers, songs, and sand might still show us how to be human again.

SFU alum challenges the stigma towards death

0
This is a photo of Ava Quissy, organizer of the SFU Death Cafe
PHOTO: Noeka Nimmervoll / The Peak

By: Noeka Nimmervoll, Staff Writer

On Sunday, June 29, Ava Quissy, a recent SFU political science graduate, hosted a Death Café at Slice Vancouver that welcomed all community members. The café hosted group conversations about death, using prompt cards to facilitate smaller group circles. Quissy led the larger group discussions, cultivating an open and grounded communal environment through questions such as, “What makes you feel most alive?” The Peak attended the event and interviewed Quissy to learn more. 

The Café Mortel was the original inspiration for Quissy’s Death Café, pioneered by Bernard Crettaz in 2004. It was a bistro where community members met monthly to talk about death. Jon Underwood developed this idea into the Death Café to further destigmatize death and bring dying back into the hands of the community instead of hospitals. Underwood expanded Crettaz’s project to become a more accessible global phenomenon, bringing conversations of death to all who wanted to partake. The café is based on four requirements: the event must not generate any financial profit, be an accessible hub for discussing death, have conversations led primarily by community members, and offer some form of refreshments. Underwood developed a website that outlines logistical aspects of Death Cafés, including a full guide on how to host your own. 

“I think a lot of people come because they’ve experienced a loss in their life and they felt like they haven’t really processed it” — Ava Quissy, SFU alum

When asked about her attraction to death, Quissy said that it has haunted her since she was 10, when she first realized everyone would eventually die. The anxiety of this inevitable moment was pushed away, at least until she took Jason Brown’s class at SFU called Death, Disease, and Disaster (HUM 330). Quissy said taking this class “changed [her] life,” through the exploration of this niche topic that “transcended education,” and encouraged her to have a greater appreciation of the multifaceted ways death is viewed around the world. Through the class’s topics relating to “how cultures respond to tragedy and dying,” she realized she wanted to have and host conversations around death, stemming from a desire for more cultural understanding and recognition around what she sees as “one of the most natural things” about human existence. 

“It started off as a class project,” Quissy said. “I was super curious to know, especially within my friend group, how other people approach this; if they felt the same way [as me].” Quissy plans to host more events like this, focusing on encouraging youth to come out and talk about death. “I definitely want to be able to inspire conversations [about death] in people that are younger so that they’re not first encountering them when they’re older,” she said. 

Quissy added, “I think a lot of people come because they’ve experienced a loss in their life and they felt like they haven’t really processed it,” owing to how “there’s no unified base for how people should grieve, and so people are just starting to do it in isolation.” Usually in Western cultures, she explained that “death has been sanitized and overly simplified,” which she believes to be detrimental to the individual and the community. Personally, I think Death Cafés provide a space for nuanced, personal conversations in which to grieve and process thoughts communally, and proves as a reminder for every human experience that we are not alone. 

Media about death recommended by Quissy

Die Wise by Stephen Jenkinson
The Wild Edge of Sorrow: Rituals of Renewal and the Sacred Work of Grief by Francis Weller
The Denial of Death by Ernest Becker
Departures (2008) by Yôjirô Takita 
The Order of the Good Death
Death Café

Three films that challenge our perception of war

0
This is a collage of the three movies featured
IMAGES: Courtesy of 1) Belarusfilm and Mosfilm; 2) Hawk Films; 3) Mosfilm

By: Yildiz Subuk, Staff Writer 

Come and See (1985)

Elem Klimov’s film tells the story of a boy named Flyora living in what is now Belarus. Located in a small village, the boy discovers a rifle which propels his eagerness to join his town’s resistance group, with a burning desire to fight against Nazi occupation. What follows, however, is Flyora’s immediate subjugation to the horrifying magnitude of war, fighting against an army with heavier firepower and brutality than his own. 

Come and See is not just visceral in its depiction of war, but the argument the film presents leaves no room to debate the morality of war. To Klimov, war is not just traumatizing but completely pointless. There is no valour, honour, or patriotism when every aspect of Flyora is broken. He loses his humanity as a child, not even given the chance to properly explore any emotion outside of hatred and fear. 

The film’s colour and atmosphere are dreamlike, yet each sequence feels inescapably real. It is almost as if the dream is deteriorating as the film moves forward. Come and See frames war as the decay of the human soul, its horror rooted in futility.

Dr. Strangelove Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)

A group of insecure men sit in a war room, discussing the necessity of dropping an atomic bomb on the Soviet Union, possibly triggering mutually assured destruction. Stanley Kubrick’s satire captures how the idiocracy of men can quite literally destroy the world. 

Set during the height of the Cold War, the film focuses more on discourse between characters than combat. The entire threat of nuclear annihilation can be traced to General Jack D. Ripper’s inability to accept that his inability to sexually satisfy his partners comes from his old age, as he blames the Soviets for poisoning the water, destroying everyday American life. This hilarious yet infuriating reasoning captures the essence of Dr. Strangelove. It is a deconstruction of the link between masculinity and destruction. War generals who aggressively remind each other of their powers, who treat the threat of mutually assured destruction as a game, are in charge of an entire world’s existence. 

In today’s political climate, Kubrick’s film feels less like an exaggerated joke and more like a prophecy. As tensions of nuclear annihilation arise once again, Dr. Strangelove exemplifies that the real threat to our very existence are petty, insecure men detached from society, ready to press the big red button — because they can.

Ivan’s Childhood (1962)

Director Andrei Tarkovsky’s work is best described as visual poetry, like watching a painting move, layers appearing bit by bit. Ivan’s Childhood tells the story of a young, nimble, and orphaned boy, living amidst the Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union, as he works as a scout, spying and gathering information for resistance groups

The film’s imagery is what carries the story. The dialogue and action is minimal, as Tarkovsky lets the landscapes, and the framing of his characters within it tell the story. Ivan’s Childhood is a film that requires the viewer’s attention, and patience. Some of the most heartbreaking moments, like a soldier holding a girl over a small ditch as they laugh before an invasion, or Ivan discovering the building where his parents died, are conveyed through simple imagery, taking place in silence, or in a way where only the sounds of nature are heard, while dialogue is absent. 

Through slowly engulfing the audience in the story, the film explores grief, and Ivan’s heartbreaking attempts to cope with the loss of his parents, disguised in the image of a young soldier. The film is a haunting visual masterpiece that parallels the beauty of nature and humanity with the backdrop of loss and violence.

Canada should prioritize domestic needs over NATO spending

0
An illustration of Prime Minister Mark Carney in hues of pink and red. He has a maple leaf lapel pin on his blazer.
ILLUSTRATION: Jill Baccay / The Peak

By: Phone Min Thant, Arts & Culture Editor

On June 25, fresh from the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) Summit, Prime Minister Mark Carney announced that Canada would fulfill its commitments to the alliance’s new defence budget of 5% of annual national GDP by 2035. This was more than double the increase from the previous commitment of 2%, a target set in 2014. Canada’s defence spending has since reached 1.45%, and is expected to increase. Carney commented that the increased spending will be allocated to acquiring new equipment, diversifying Canada’s alliances, and improving pay for Canadian soldiers. Remarks by Carney and his foreign affairs minister, Anita Anand, reveal a vague yet determined drive towards an increasingly militarized Canada

While the government frames this as a necessary commitment to global security, the proposed defence spending comes at a staggering cost. Such an enormous financial commitment could limit future investment in urgent domestic needs. Instead of dedicating $150 billion annually to militarization, the federal government should invest in programs that directly improve people’s lives, including housing, healthcare, food security, and education.

Carney has already hinted that defence spending will come at the expense of government funds from other sectors of Canadian society, a view confirmed by the parliamentary budget officer. It was also speculated that it would result in tax hikes or more government debt. With the Canadian military’s financial management historically having a lot of room for improvement, these costs are only anticipated to spiral upwards. Carney also said that Canada will partially fund these costs through increased mining of minerals and development of infrastructure like ports. While no official defence policy has been published, minister Anand said her main concern is not the possibility of the spending hike but rather the timeline. 

Even ignoring the huge amount of environmental degradation and social costs associated with more mineral mining in Canada, an ironic betrayal of the Liberal party’s empty environmental promises, the new defence spending remains problematic. Canadian leaders should think twice before committing the country to spending money on defence when numerous social and economic challenges sadly remain unsolved. 

It is time for the government to realize that instead of funding massive and unnecessary militarization, they should choose to invest in the people.

The Canadian government can invest in initiatives that impact communities inside the country. For instance, just by extrapolating data from a BC government social housing initiative in Surrey, an affordable apartment complex around $500,000 ea — a direct reallocation of the annual defence funds to such projects could create over 300,000 such housing units across the country, notwithstanding the numerous divergences in costs across different regions. Even if it does not completely resolve the housing crisis in Canada, it will prove to be of great help to houseless communities, with amplified impacts on the economy.

Talking about the economy, the average yearly grocery costs of a family of four in Canada in 2025 is around $17,000. If redirected, the defence funds could subsidize grocery costs for over 88 million families of four for an entire year. This alone can help address Canada’s record-high levels (22.9% of all Canadian households) of household food insecurity today. 

Let’s say the same money is invested in healthcare — attempting to solve Canada’s physician shortages, for instance — the same billions of dollars can fund the recruitment payments of over 10 million urban physicians and more than 4.9 million physicians in rural areas. While these numbers may seem unrealistic, given that Canada only has around 96,000 doctors across the country, a better recruitment budget can mitigate the physician shortage issue. Those funds can, instead, go towards education services, training and incentivization supporting future doctors. 

The list doesn’t stop there — the costs of defence could be channelled towards mitigating many more social issues in the country: shortages of teaching staff and social workers; gaps in emergency services; unemployment benefits; education initiatives, and many more. In every case, this investment would strengthen the well-being and security of individuals — not just the state.

It is time for the government to realize that instead of funding massive and unnecessary militarization, they should choose to invest in the people.

Embark Sustainability hosts “Language as Nourishment” community kitchen

0
This is an absolutely mouthwatering photo of an Indian taco inside a styrofoam container.
PHOTO: Public domain / Picryl

By: Corbett Gildersleve, News Writer

On June 25, Embark Sustainability held a community kitchen event titled “Language as Nourishment.” This event, hosted in the Student Union Building’s community kitchen, was led by Kil Daagwiiya Hooper, an undergraduate student studying political science and Indigenous studies, James Houle, a graduate student in Mathematics, and Marie Haddad, director of engagement at Embark. 

Hooper and Houle are leaders from the First Nations, Métis, and Inuit Student Association. They spoke to the importance of maintaining and revitalizing Indigenous languages as they led the group in making Indian tacos and jum. The Peak attended the event to learn more about the “deep ties between Indigenous languages, food justice, and culture.”

Hooper said there are 12 Indigenous language families in Canada and 36 First Nations languages in BC. However, a number of these languages are endangered due to the impacts of settler colonialism and residential schools. According to Statistics Canada, “First Nations adults aged 65 and older (54.6%) were four times more likely to speak an Indigenous language than children aged 14 and younger (13.7%).” 

These foods “bring the feeling of community — Indian Tacos, as they’re a widely shared comfort food for Indigenous people, and Jum, as it’s a food that she grew up having regularly at home on Haida Gwaii.” — Kil Daagwiiya Hooper, undergraduate in political science and Indigenous studies, FNMISA leader

The number of Indigenous Peoples who learned their language at home as a child has declined by 7.1% from 2016. Hooper told The Peak, “While many Indigenous people want to learn their language, there typically isn’t enough support in place to learn it past basic words/phrases.” She advocated for “more funding provided to language organizations so that they’re able to reduce barriers for language learners.” Current revitalization efforts in BC include the Mentor-Apprentice program, a one-on-one program where First Nations Peoples are paired with a fluent speaker, and the Language Nest program, an early childhood Indigenous language program.  

Hooper and Houle introduced the food the group would make for the evening. Indian Tacos are seasoned meat served on frybread or bannock, while jum is a halibut stew with potatoes, sliced onions and seasoning. They added that depending on which Indigenous community someone is part of, bannock and fry bread could be viewed as the same or distinct. While some view fry bread as fried and bannock as baked, bannock could also be both fried and baked, making for a similar type of bread.

Hooper told The Peak she chose these foods because they “bring the feeling of community — Indian tacos, as they’re a widely shared comfort food for Indigenous people, and jum, as it’s a food that she grew up having regularly at home on Haida Gwaii.” She added that the event is named “Language as Nourishment” as there is an “importance that Indigenous languages have, nourishing our spirit. Similarly, Indian Tacos and um give that same nourishing feeling.”

Research Roundup: SFU joins ARTIC-2 and Dr. Amy Parent named UNESCO co-chair for Indigenous rights

0
This is a photo of the academic quadrangle and pond on the SFU Burnaby campus on a sunny day.
PHOTO: Kriti Monga / The Peak

By: Corbett Gildersleve, News Writer

SFU researchers collaborate with international group to better track infectious diseases 

In May, an SFU team joined the ARTIC-2 project, a collaboration between the University of Birmingham, UK, and researchers in Kenya, Ghana, and the Republic of Congo, to develop low-cost genome sequencing procedures and equipment, and expand their use. Dr. Caroline Colijn, professor in the department of mathematics and Canada 150 research chair, is co-leading part of the project. Colijn told SFU News, “Genome sequencing was with us from the start of the pandemic, and it helped to inform public health policies and decisions as new variants were discovered.” 

The benefits of this project would allow laboratories and researchers to more easily sequence viruses and bacteria to track how they change and evolve. This can better inform public health officials and potentially spot outbreaks sooner. With low-cost equipment, this technique is more affordable for countries in the Global South, helping them respond to outbreaks more quickly. 

Dr. Amy Parent named UNESCO co-chair 

Dr. Amy Parent (Sigidimnak Nox̱s Ts’aawit) has been named UNESCO co-chair for transforming Indigenous knowledge research governance and rematriation. Parent is an associate professor in the faculty of education and inaugural associate director at the Cassidy Centre for Educational Justice — a research centre “to advance justice and an equitable, democratic society through education.” She is also Canada’s Research Chair (Tier II) in Indigenous governance and education.

The second UNESCO co-chair is Dr. Sonajharia Minz of the Oraon Tribal Peoples in New Delhi, India. According to SFU’s announcement, Indigenous knowledge research governance refers to the “self-determined, Indigenous-led processes, policies, and structures that guide and oversee research involving Indigenous Peoples, including rights, knowledges, languages, and lands.”

“We are committed to bringing forward the strength of our Nations and the integrity of our knowledge systems into spaces and places where they have long been excluded.” — Dr. Amy Parent, UNESCO co-chair, transforming Indigenous knowledge research governance and rematriation

Parent told SFU News, “Dr. Sonajharia Minz and I carry this joint appointment not only with deep honour, but with a profound sense of responsibility — to our Nations, our ancestors, and the generations to come. We are committed to bringing forward the strength of our Nations and the integrity of our knowledge systems into spaces and places where they have long been excluded.” 

New brain imaging technique aims to better understand Parkinson’s Disease drugs

A new study was published in the journal Movement Disorders on April 18 by Dr. Alex Wiesman, along with five others from the Karolinska Institute, Sweden. Wiesman is an assistant professor in the department of biomedical physiology and kinesiology as well as Canada’s Research Chair (II) in neurophysiology of aging and neurodegeneration. This study reviewed brain scans of Parkinson’s Disease patients who take dopamine replacement therapy drugs such as Levodopa to see why the treatment was less effective for them. 

Using magnetoencephalography technology to measure electric brain signals, the researchers tracked in real time how the drug affected their brain signals. Dr. Wiesman told SFU News he believes this new approach to brain imaging could help tailor a patient’s treatment by identifying how they uniquely respond to these medications. The study also concludes this approach “may be useful for data-driven contextualization of medication effects on cortical neurophysiology in future research and clinical applications.”

AI has changed the job market and its rules

0
job seeker with laptop sitting at a desk with AI reaper behind him
ILLUSTRATION: Yan Ting Leung / The Peak

By: Daniel Salcedo Rubio, Features Editor

I recently graduated from a master’s program at SFU. I’ve been casually swiping through positions on LinkedIn for a while now, not really looking for a serious commitment. This wasn’t my first time entering the job market. When I finished my undergraduate degree, I was in a similar position; however, back then, I was far more anxious and desperate to find the one.

I’m familiar with the dreadful hunt for a job. The tricks one has to do to get over HR’s screening bot, the tips to approach hiring managers through LinkedIn, the interview prep, and deciding the interview outfit the night before, all equally soaked in anxiety. This time, I felt far more at ease, having an advanced degree and a couple of years of industry experience, I felt safe. I was no longer the same man entering the waters of the job market from years ago — but as the saying goes, the job market didn’t remain the same river either. While a lot felt familiar,  a new factor had been creeping around for a while. Artificial intelligence was now shifting the waters. From the general fear of AI replacing human workers to interviews entirely conducted by an AI agent, I quickly realized just how unfamiliar certain things could become.

Let’s start with the obvious: AI will be replacing human workers, to some degree. I’m not trying to sound negative or ominous. I believe there’s a lot of work that AI will be more efficient at performing, like repetitive tasks in data entry. However, I also think that in the transition to finding the right position for AI to take in the workforce, a lot of us will be negatively affected. For example, Bloomberg Intelligence estimated 200,000 jobs in Wall Street banks will be lost in the next three to five years due to AI adoption, and about 92 million roles could disappear by 2030, according to a Future of Jobs report. Entry-level positions, which already have ridiculous qualification expectations, will be significantly harder as AI is expected to overtake most entry-level work

“Policymakers, companies, and developers need to ensure these technologies are implemented ethically — and more importantly, humanely.”

Data entry, customer service, and administrative jobs are already being replaced with AI chatbots, and positions in paralegal work, advertising, and graphic design, to name a few, will all likely be disrupted and to some extent automated by AI in the near future. In human resources, screening bots scan your documents, search for keywords, and either pass you to the next step or reject you within minutes of submitting your application. However, that report also estimates a net gain of 78 million new job opportunities. Service jobs, software and cybersecurity, farmers and related trade workers, project and operations managers, jobs in education, among others, are expected to grow by 2030. Not all is bleak; it’s just more and more complicated. As it’s always been the case, one has to remain up to date with emerging technologies, but AI’s fast development and improvements make it increasingly difficult to predict and adapt to the shifts it’s making. There are likely people right now studying and preparing for jobs that will no longer exist by the time they graduate. 

In some way, I had this as a mindset during my job hunt. I’ve been working as an editor for The Peak for about three years now, following a similar path alongside my science degree. I had considered a career in scientific writing — perhaps still am, just far more cautious and less hopeful. I can’t deny the capabilities of the language learning models in use today. I don’t believe that what I, or anyone else, is capable of doing is actually replaceable. For example, I don’t think AI can be as good a writer as I am. However, it can do it far faster and far cheaper than I do. It’s disheartening to scroll through job opening after job opening for some form of artificial intelligence trainer, fine-tune responses, or prompt developer — it felt like my only options were to train my replacement or apply to positions soon to be replaced. It’s hard to predict the changes AI will bring to the job market. Just six years ago, when I first started working, ChatGPT didn’t even exist yet, and now it’s getting university degrees. Even human resources aren’t safe of being replaced by artificial intelligence — AI is now also replacing interviewers. AI recruiters like Alex, have recently emerged, providing a fully automated interview process — ironic right? Human resources being replaced by AI. Not only have the waters changed, but the rate at which they change has increased as well.

Perhaps it’s just the cycle of life and I’m just starting my how-do-I-open-this-pdf-boomerera. I do see the benefits of incorporating AI into the job hunt. For example, on principle, that same recruiting AI bot Alex should be able to interview thousands of applicants for a position, something no single human would be able to feasibly do by themselves. Imagine a world where you’re guaranteed an interview and assessment of your abilities rather than being just one more electronic email from the digital pile. However, that world isn’t yet here and instead we have to navigate through AI recruiters glitching out and AI systems that just replicate the same biases they promised to eliminate. Right now, it seems as if we’re starting the very unpleasant transition into widespread incorporation of AI into different areas of the job market.

I sincerely hope AI brings change for the better, but I also hope those building these tools and those adopting them into their workforce will think about those dipping their toes for the first time. AI will continue to shape the currents of the workforce, and the job market, but the onus shouldn’t entirely be on the job seekers to keep adapting. Policymakers, companies, and developers need to ensure these technologies are implemented ethically and more importantly, humanely. That means transparent practices on data use and training sources, auditing and mitigating biases, and ensuring humans remain involved — AI should be a tool to support us rather than a replacement of us.

Despair and devotion: a review of Fairy Creek

0
This is an illustration of the Fairy Creek protests showing protestors standing face to face against the police
ILLUSTRATION: Yan Ting Leung / The Peak

By: Ashima Shukla, Staff Writer

The year is 2025, and the world is in chaos: marked by economic instability, growing authoritarianism, ecological collapse, and an ongoing global erosion of human rights. In this moment, Fairy Creek arrives not just as a documentary but as an urgent cultural intervention and a powerful reminder that resistance is still alive. Like water seeping through stone, it moves steadily. Shaping. Persisting. Refusing to disappear. 

Directed by Jen Muranetz, this powerful film tells the story of Ada’itsx (Fairy Creek valley), one of the last remaining old-growth forests on Vancouver Island. In what became the largest act of civil disobedience in Canadian history, activists, land defenders, and community members came together to set up blockades on Pacheedaht First Nation territory against logging operations by the Teal-Jones lumber corporation. Nearly 1,200 demonstrators were forcefully detained by the RCMP until the Supreme Court eventually rejected an extension on further legal action taken against the protestors, and old-growth logging was deferred for two years

This film breathes with the spirit of the land and the people protecting it, and Muranetz offers a meditation on complexity, contradiction, and care. Opening with aerial shots of the forest, it invites viewers in, as light gently sifts through the ancient branches and birds chirp in distant conversation. There is something reverent in the cinematography; it speaks to our souls. But then, a rupture. The piercing growl of machinery disrupts the stillness, and we become witness to grief unfolding in real time. 

Among its many strengths, what I find most admirable is its commitment to complexity. It doesn’t flatten this resistance into a binary of heroes and villains. Instead, we are invited into its complicated and sometimes contradictory emotional terrain. We see people in all their multitudes: angry, exhausted, crying, building barricades, making tea. There is rage but also laughter, vulnerability, and moments of surprising tenderness. This, the film reminds us, is the texture of real movements: messy, tender, full of both hope and heartbreak. 

Yet there is also a kind of reverence for what cannot be saved but must still be honoured. In one unforgettable scene, the forest becomes the central voice. As the injunction is passed and protestors are removed, we see a tree being cut. Then another. Then another. And another. We wait for the silence, but it doesn’t come. Instead, we hear and watch a world unravel. And in that act of witness, we partake in a world remembering itself. With each fallen tree, the tension rises, becoming unbearable. In these moments, the film becomes a form of mourning. It claims our presence, and we know we cannot leave untouched. 

Admittedly, the film doesn’t unpack the full weight of the political and economic forces that enable logging in these territories. But it doesn’t need to. Its purpose isn’t to explain everything, but to offer an emotional and ethical intervention. In a world where information overload often numbs us, Fairy Creek reaches out to our feelings, and sows seeds of solidarity. 

These glimpses from the film remind us that resistance is not only a political act, but a deeply human one. When movements are too busy mobilizing to archive themselves, films like Fairy Creek fill the gap: preserving memory and shaping possibilities for better futures.

To me, this film is a love letter. To the land and all who came together to protect it. To the quiet but determined hope that a better world is still possible if we collectively work for it. Yes, it’s about saving old-growth trees but it’s also about saving our capacity to care. Even though the battle at Ada’itsx continues, what this film leaves us with is not despair. It is devotion. A call to protect what remains. To mourn what is gone, but at the same time, to embrace our capacity for awe, persistence, and solidarity. Fairy Creek is the type of film that doesn’t offer closure. It asks long-lasting questions. And becomes a lifelong companion.