New analysis of children's TV and film suggests that too often it portrays pain as something arising only through violent act or injury rather than stubbing a toe or falling over They analysed six popular children's TV programmes; Sofia the First, Shimmer and Shine, Paw Patrol, Octonauts, Peppa Pig (pictured) and Daniel Tiger's Neighbourhood 'That's important for how children interact with others when one of them experiences pain, such as when a friend might fall over in the playground or when they go to the doctors for routine vaccinations. ' Dr Melanie Noel, associate professor of Clinical Psychology at the University of Calgary, described the findings of the study as 'shocking'. KEY FINDINGS: VIOLENT PAIN MOST COMMONLY SHOWN Over the 10 movies and six TV series the researchers identified: 454 painful incidents - a mean of 8.
These programmes were chosen to represent either girl-focused, boy-focused or gender-neutral TV series based on the key characters featured. The authors found that there was a general lack of empathy from other characters, with 75 per cent of painful instances seen by others, but those who witnessed it did not respond or were not empathetic in 41 per cent of those cases. Facial expressions revealed that boy characters were more likely to experience severe pain compared to girl characters, the authors of the study said. Children's animated TV shows and movies - including Peppa Pig, Paw Patrol and Frozen - could do more to educate kids about 'everyday pain', researchers say Dr Abbie Jordan, study co-author, said the way children experience, model, understand and manage pain has lasting consequences for them and society. 'Pain, in particular chronic pain, can have hugely debilitating effects on the lives of children and young people right through into adulthood, ' Jordan explained She said part of the challenge is how we talk about pain with children, and as a society in order to ensure there is a better understanding of its impact.
Will Tanner is director of the think tank Onward. LONDON — It was the experience of the West's last great pandemic, the Spanish flu, that gave New Yorkers public housing. In September 1918, when the disease's deadly second wave was at its peak, the health commissioner, Royal S. Copeland, sent census-takers into the Italian districts to report on the human cost in the city's poorest migrant neighborhoods. Their reports of overflowing, tuberculosis-ridden tenements moved Copeland to quickly hospitalize anyone displaying symptoms who lived in the often-substandard shared housing. The information brought to light also drove the authorities to abolish the tenements altogether. In the years that followed, Copeland campaigned successfully for slum clearance and the erection of public housing, the first of which was built on New York's Lower East Side in 1934. It is a salutary reminder, albeit hard to believe, that the consequences of the coronavirus outbreak may be much bigger than temporary quarantine and economy-wide nationalization.
Pity the politician who takes up ideological opposition to steps that the experts suggest might curb the next pandemic. In the next few weeks, the contentious issue of national identity verification will likely become not just mundane but desirable as the government adopts digital ID to verify those with immunity to the virus, allowing them to return to work. The reform of social care, which has been postponed for decades, will also surely now become impossible to ignore, especially if those in the care system suffer higher mortality rates compared to those confined to their homes. If reform is embraced, the result may look more like a network of modern almshouses and a national domiciliary care network than the insurance system for which many have advocated. If coronavirus is teaching us anything, it is that local communities are more resilient than atomized individualism. Policymakers around the world might also reflect on the fact that those daily risking their health for ours — care workers, supermarket checkout staff, delivery drivers — currently endure the most precarious position in the labor market.
The very possibility of a global shutdown-inducing pandemic was unthinkable a few weeks ago. Today, in the foothills of this crisis, the policy consequences are equally remote. But in time, we will likely look back on this as a generation-defining event, from which countless changes — many positive — sprung. Also On POLITICO
History suggests that social policy may change in a myriad of unexpected ways when this is all over. History suggests that social policy may change in a myriad of unexpected ways when this is all over. The Black Death not only killed a third of Europe's population, it reformed the rules of primogeniture: The absence of sons forced landowners to bequeath property to daughters for the first time. The cholera epidemic that accompanied the "Great Stink" of 1854 saw Joseph Bazalgette commissioned to design the modern sewer system that London uses to this day. The legacy of COVID-19 may yet prove as permanent. In the same way as the Spanish flu and cholera exposed poor sanitation, this virus has exposed vulnerabilities in the globalized world's reliance on just-in-time supply chains, borderless travel and health care systems resourced for chronic demand, rather than surges of acute need. The calls for many more intensive care unit beds and stricter border health checks will be irresistible. In the U. K, we could see a Conservative government consider legislation for minimum productive capacity of essential medicines and equipment — to ensure that our ventilator and vaccine capabilities are never again called into question.