Friday, November 26, 2021

Tech companies underreport CO2 emissions

Tech companies underreport CO2 emissions
Harmonized carbon footprints of IT software and service (ITSS) companies. Analysis is 
based on CDP responses of 2019 and corporate reports of the corresponding reporting 
period. For each company the sum of the initial carbon footprint, as provided in the 
corporate report, and the omitted emissions form the harmonized carbon footprint.
 Omitted emissions results from sources of errors such as reporting inconsistency,
boundary incompleteness, and activity exclusion. See supplementary data: sheet 2.1–2.3 
for calculations. The Global Reporting Initiative (GRI) standards, Integrated Reporting (IR)
framework, or Sustainability Accounting Standards Board (SASB) standards are ticked in
 case the corporate report was prepared in accordance with them. 
Credit: DOI: 10.1038/s41467-021-26349-x

Companies in the digital technology industry are significantly underreporting the greenhouse gas emissions arising along the value chain of their products. Across a sample of 56 major tech companies surveyed in a study by the Technical University of Munich (TUM), more than half of these emissions were excluded from self-reporting in 2019. At approximately 390 megatons carbon dioxide equivalents, the omitted emissions are in the same ballpark as the carbon footprint of Australia. The research team has developed a method for spotting sources of error and calculating the omitted disclosures.

For  and the private sector to set targets for reduced , it is important to know how much CO2 companies are actually emitting. However, there are no binding requirements for comprehensive accounting and full disclosure of these emissions. The Greenhouse Gas (GHG) Protocol is seen as a voluntary standard. It distinguishes three categories of emissions: Scope 1 refers to direct emissions from a company's own activities, scope 2 refers to emissions from the production of purchased energy, and scope 3 to emissions from activities along the value chain, in other words all emissions from raw material extraction to the use of the end product. Scope 3 emissions often represent the majority of a company's carbon footprint. Past studies have also shown that these emissions account for most reporting gaps. Until now, however, it was not possible to quantify these gaps or determine their causes.

Lena Klaaßen and Dr. Christian Stoll at the TUM School of Management of the Technical University of Munich (TUM) have developed a method for identifying reporting gaps for scope 3 emissions and used it in a  to determine the carbon footprints of pre-selected digital technology companies. Their paper has now been published in the journal Nature Communications.

Companies publish inconsistent figures

Klaaßen and Stoll determined that many companies submit different greenhouse gas  figures depending on where they are reporting them. They focused mainly on the companies' own reports as compared with voluntary disclosures to the non-profit organization CDP. The annual survey of companies conducted by CDP is regarded as the most important collection of data based on the structure of the GHG Protocol. Most companies disclose lower emissions in their own reports than in the CDP survey. This could be partly due to the fact that the CDP report is intended mainly for investors, while corporate reports are addressed to the general public.

In addition, CDP leaves it up to the reporting companies to choose which of the 15 GHG Protocol categories—ranging from business travel to waste disposal—are relevant to them. The studies show that this discretionary freedom results in some companies ignoring certain categories or not fully reporting the related emissions. Most companies have reporting gaps simply because they do not receive emissions data from all suppliers and do not fill the gaps with secondary data.

To close the gaps, Klaaßen and Stoll calculate the emissions by applying the values of several comparable companies which report complete figures. They take into account whether these companies are from the same industry and are comparable in terms of key indicators such as sales, profits and workforce size. To apply a uniform benchmark, they assume that GHG Protocol categories are relevant to a  unless it specifically states that emissions are non-existent in this area.

751 vs. 360 megatons of carbon dioxide equivalents

Klaaßen and Stoll applied this method to quantify the scope 3 emissions of 56 digital technology companies. Due to its high energy consumption, this industry is seen as a major source of CO2 emissions, but has frequently claimed that it is committed to a low-carbon business model. The case study investigates software and hardware manufacturers which were included in the 2019 Forbes Global 2000 list, ranking the world's largest public companies, and have participated in the CDP survey in the same year.

The calculations show that in 2019 the analyzed tech companies did not disclose more than 50% of greenhouse gas emissions along the value chain in their own reports and/or the CDP survey. Instead of the reported 360 megatons carbon dioxide equivalents (the standardized unit for all greenhouse gases), the study arrives at a total of 751 megatons. The 391 megatons discrepancy is comparable to the annual greenhouse gas emissions of Australia.

Significant differences between companies

Half of the companies submitted data to the CDP that did not agree with the data disclosed in their own corporate reports. It was especially common for these reports to ignore GHG Protocol categories that contribute substantially to emissions. For example, 43 percent of the companies neglected emissions from the use of sold products and 30 percent neglected purchased goods and services.

The differences in the quality of companies' disclosures was significant. Whereas some companies omitted only one GHG Protocol category, others ignored all classes of scope 3 emissions. In the biggest discrepancy found by the researchers, the publicly disclosed emissions and the figure calculated differed by a factor of 185. The closest amounts differed by just 0.06%. Hardware companies had omitted more than half of their overall emissions, and software companies somewhat less than half. Companies that have announced ambitious CO2 reduction targets were relatively accurate in their reporting. Here the difference between the disclosed and adjusted quantities was less than 20%.

'Consider adopting binding regulations'

"The often unsystematic and inaccurate reporting of companies' carbon footprints is a problem for policymakers, stakeholders and the companies themselves," says Lena Klaaßen. "The lack of transparency makes it difficult to set realistic targets and develop effective strategies to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and the proper assessment of companies." In addition to further research on other branches, the authors believe, that a new regulatory framework is needed. "In light of the current underreporting we have observed, it seems unlikely that voluntary guidelines alone can bring about more accurate disclosures in the future," says Christian Stoll. "Consequently, policy makers should think about binding guidelines with clear rules on how greenhouse gas emissions are reported."Study says tech firms underreport their carbon footprint

More information: Lena Klaaßen et al, Harmonizing corporate carbon footprints, Nature Communications (2021). DOI: 10.1038/s41467-021-26349-x

Journal information: Nature Communications 

Provided by Technical University Munich 

Researchers study TikTok platform's use in academia

Researchers study TikTok platform's use in academia
Credit: KMDI

In a bid to shine a spotlight on their research and make it more accessible, academics around the world are following in the footsteps of their students and taking to TikTok to share videos.

The trend is being highlighted by a team of researchers at the Knowledge Media Design Institute (KMDI) at the University of Toronto's Faculty of Information. The researchers looked at the different ways academics, educators and scholarly communities are using TikTok, the popular  platform that specializes in short-form user-generated videos, to share knowledge—from Gothic architecture explainers to weight loss tips.

In particular, the researchers examined user behavior, concerns about youth engagement, data and privacy implications, the technical features of the app and the visual aspect of scholarly contribution.

"If watching YouTube is like sitting in a lecture, then using TikTok is like having a conversation," says study co-lead JP King, a sessional instructor at the John H. Daniels Faculty of Architecture, Landscape, and Design who works as KMDI's data visualization and graphic designer. "TikTok provides a fun place to create new forms of accessible learning shared outside of classrooms, textbooks, and conference halls.

Led by King and Associate Professor Sara Grimes, director of KMDI, four graduate students with an interest in critical media literacy reviewed TikTok videos made by academics for the study. The team also analyzed more than 100 journal articles, books and  focused on TikTok, social media, technology and digital rights. Their study recommends some best practices for academics using TikTok, which ranks as the fourth most popular social media platform after YouTube, Snapchat and Instagram.

The researchers found that TikTok videos often tend to be "amateurish" and offer a peek behind the scenes. The estimated 20 million-plus daily users, who are mostly under 30, embrace a less professional approach and don't feel the need to make everything perfect. They may simply record themselves with their smartphones with no special lighting or makeup. While this might feel out of place on Instagram or YouTube, it is acceptable if not expected on TikTok.

TikTok is also unique in how it encourages active engagement. Users can remix one another's videos or produce creative responses towards others' content. At the same time, however, users risk having their video or audio remixed or repurposed without their permission if they don't adjust their privacy settings accordingly.

"You might make a sincere video explaining your research that someone else turns into a song or a joke," the study warns academics. "Decide now if you're comfortable with that possibility."

The study's authors attributed the phenomenon at least partly to a generational shift around intellectual property. Without bibliographies or citations, TikTok videos can challenge the sense of ownership that academic communities have traditionally had around ideas. "It's more difficult to maintain ownership of your ideas online, and you can't control how people will use your imagery or audio. Researchers must be aware of this fact, and be thoughtful when they are publishing content," King says.

The researcher say that academics also need to understand the large impact that a single video could have on their personal brand. If their personal views clash with institutional values, there could be pushback from the academic community and repercussions from administrators. Even though tenured faculty members have academic freedom, they may not get a free pass if they use TikTok in ways their colleagues consider out of line, the researchers warn.

What's more, an outsized social media profile won't necessarily enhance a scholar's professional status. "In simple terms, a million followers won't guarantee you tenure or a promotion," says King.

Above all, it's a way to spread the word, possibly dispelling popular myths with facts and encouraging an audience to think about a topic from a different perspective. Casey Fiesler, an assistant professor at the University of Colorado Boulder, runs a popular TikTok account that often challenges viewers to consider the problems with Facebook's domination of the online experience. It's possible to imagine a teenager finding one of Fiesler's videos tucked between dance trends and dog tricks and questioning Facebook for the first time, according to King.

"TikTok offers enormous potential for the discovery of critical ideas," he says. "This is why using TikTok effectively is crucial. Sharing research with an audience outside of the academy brings together people with diverse educational backgrounds. TikTok offers an exciting new way to find like-minded thinkers, makes research accessible, and start important conversations."

Here are a few of the study's recommendations for  on how scholarly communities can engage:

  • Keep your videos short and simple: Less than one minute is ideal because online attention spans are shorter than in-person ones
  • Use storytelling and humor to make your content more accessible: You are competing with all the other content online, so lighten the mood by telling a story or adding unique humor
  • Find ways to engage people instead of speaking to them: Invite users to try out an experiment for themselves and create a video reply with their results
  • Get your data from TikTok so you know what's being tracked. Remember social media lives forever: You might be surprised by how well TikTok knows you. Download your data and decide for yourself if you are comfortable with TikTok having this information and selling it without your knowledge
  • Be aware that your video or audio may be remixed or repurposed without your permission, unless you change your privacy settings: You might make a sincere  explaining your research that someone else turns into a song or a joke. Decide now if you're comfortable with that possibility
  • TikTok says it has over 1 billion users
Provided by University of Toronto 

How big tech is changing who's in charge of our rights and freedoms

How big tech is changing who's in charge of our rights and freedoms
Credit: Ascannio/Shutterstock

Since the end of the 20th century, daily life for most of us has increasingly moved into the digital sphere. This has led to the rise of the so-called "onlife" dimension, which represents the intimate intertwining of our online and offline lives. One day we may see the creation of the so-called metaverse, a perpetual online environment providing new digital spaces where people can interact, work and play as avatars.

The result is that people's rights and freedoms are increasingly shaped by the rules set by big technology firms. Twitter's decision to silence the former US president Donald Trump in the aftermath of the violence at Capitol HillFacebook's banning of Australian publishers and users from sharing or viewing , and the decision of YouTube to block anti-vaccine content from spreading misinformation, are just some examples of how tech firms have expanded their role not only as global gatekeepers of information but also as private powers.

These examples raise constitutional questions about who has legitimacy, who should have , and how democracy can best function in the digital age. This points to the rise of digital constitutionalism, a new phase where individual rights and public powers are "relocated" among different groups—such as technology companies—on a global scale.

A new power play

Digital constitutionalism does not mean revolutionizing the roots of modern constitutionalism, the principles of which include responsible and accountable government, individual rights and the rule of law. Rather, it is about reframing the role of constitutional law in the digital age.

Modern constitutionalism has always pursued two missions: protecting fundamental rights and limiting powers through checks and balances.

In the digital age, one of the primary concerns regards the exercise of public powers which threaten rights and freedoms, such as internet blackouts or surveillance. This was underlined by the Snowden affair, where a CIA employee leaked documents revealing the extent of surveillance of the US's National Security Agency (NSA), prompting debate about national security and individual privacy.

But private companies now dominate the internet and enforce terms of service or community guidelines which apply to billion of users across the globe. These rules provide alternative standards which compete with the constitutional protection of fundamental rights and democratic values.

The challenge for constitutional democracies no longer comes from state authorities. Rather, the biggest concerns come from formally private entities but which control things traditionally governed by public authorities—without any safeguards. The capacity of tech firms to set and enforce rights and freedoms on a global scale is an expression of their growing power over the public.

For example, when Facebook or Google moderate online content, they are making decisions on freedom of expression and other individual rights or public interest based on private standards that do not necessarily reflect constitutional safeguards. And these decisions are enforced directly by the company, not a court.

This situation has led to calls for transparency and accountability. The Cambridge Analytica scandal, which highlighted the extensive collection of personal data for political advertising, and the recent revelations that Facebook's own research showed the potentially harmful effects of social media on young people's mental health, have increased the debate around the responsibilities of these big tech companies.

Addressing big tech powers

Constitutional democracies are still figuring out how to deal with tech firms' powers. And though they share the same global challenge, countries don't always react in the same way. Even if constitutional democracies generally protect rights and freedoms as part of everyday life in a democratic society, this does not mean that this protection is equal across the world.

In Europe, the Digital Services Act and the General Data Protection Regulation arose from the desire to make tech firms more accountable when it comes to content moderation and data protection.

But the US still sees self-regulation as the best approach to protect freedom of expression in the digital age. Even the US Supreme Court has underlined that the internet—and particularly social media—plays a critical role as a democratic forum.

As a result, online platforms have lost no time in consolidating their policy. The introduction of social media councils like the Facebook Oversight Board has been welcomed as a critical step for transparency and accountability. But this could also be seen as another step towards the consolidation of powers by adopting the veneer of more institutional system such as a "supreme court," as Facebook has also done.

Digital constitutionalism offers a variety of perspectives to analyze the protection of rights and the exercise of power by big tech companies. It should also prompt us to raise the debate about how  and freedoms are not just subject to the powers of the state, but increasingly to big tech companies too.

As a global infrastructure giant, Facebook must uphold human rights
Provided by The Conversation 
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.The Conversation

FOR PROFIT HEALTHCARE USA

Workers' share of annual premium for employer health plans nears $6,000

Workers' share of annual premium for employer health plans nears $6,000

(HealthDay)—Health insurance has gotten slightly more expensive during the pandemic: A new survey shows that annual family premiums for employer-sponsored health insurance rose 4%, to an average of $22,221 this year.

Of that amount, employees paid an average of nearly $6,000 toward the cost of coverage, while employers paid the remainder of the premium.

But there was some good news: The Kaiser Family Foundation (KFF) survey of nearly 1,700 small and large companies also showed that there was an increase in workplace  benefits such as mental health services and telemedicine during the COVID-19 pandemic.

"In a year when the pandemic continued to cause health and economic disruption, there were only modest changes in the cost of -provided health benefits," said Gary Claxton, KFF senior vice president and director of the Health Care Marketplace Project.

"Some employers adapted their plans to address mental health and other challenges facing their workers due to COVID-19," Claxton added in a KFF news release.

The 4% premium increase is close to the increase in workers' wages (5%) and inflation (1.9%) this year, but average  premiums have jumped 47% since 2011, outpacing increases in wages (31%) and inflation (19%), the survey found.

Meanwhile, the average single deductible is $1,669 for workers who have one, which isn't much more than in 2020 ($1,644) or 2019 ($1,655), but significantly higher than in 2011 ($991).

In 2021, 85% of covered workers had a deductible in their plan, compared with 74% a decade ago.

Overall, the burden of deductibles has increased by 92% among all covered workers over the past decade.

The journal Health Affairs is publishing an article with select survey findings online and in its December issue.

The brightest spot in the findings involved mental health coverage.

Among firms with at least 50 workers that offer health benefits, 39% said they made changes to their mental health and substance abuse benefits during the pandemic.

For example, 31% gave workers more ways to access mental health services—such as through telemedicine—and 16% offered new mental health resources, such as an employee assistance program.

Other changes included expansion of in-network mental health and substance abuse providers (6%), waiving or reducing cost-sharing for related services (4%), or increasing coverage for out-of-network services (3%).

Overall, 12% of employers with at least 50 workers that offer  said there was an increase in their enrollees' use of . Among the largest employers (1,000 or more workers), 38% reported such an increase.

"The expansions of telemedicine and  benefits were important in meeting the needs of employees and their families in difficult times," Claxton and colleagues said. "These types of changes made sense not because employers wants to spend more, but because employers want their employees to see their health benefit programs as 'benefits' and to value them as such."

US family health insurance premiums surpass $21,000 before the pandemic
More information: The American Academy of Family Physicians has more on health insurance
Journal information: Health Affairs 
Copyright © 2021 HealthDay. All rights reserved.

Shortages and empty shelves: How the supply chain became so fractured

port containers
Credit: Pixabay/CC0 Public Domain

Since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, supply chain issues have rattled consumers and the businesses they frequent. From Clorox wipes to semiconductors to computer chips, inventory of many products at big box stores, dealerships and even grocers is low or out of stock. The problem is creating growing concern as the U.S. inches toward Black Friday and the holiday season, the biggest spending period of the year.

Most supply chains were built to provide optimal value for relatively steady and predictable demand, but the pandemic and other factors have contributed to abrupt swings in demand patterns that long and extended supply chains are not designed to accommodate. Gurumurthi Ravishankar, a faculty member and supply chain expert at the Leeds School of Business, explains how supply chain woes started, what it means for consumers and how long it may take to repair the fractured system.

How did the supply chain become so fractured?

Over the last few decades, supply chains have become increasingly complex. Many links (companies) in the chain––many of which are based overseas––are driven by the desire for lower costs. Supply chains have also become quite lean with little inventory. Even the slightest hiccup anywhere within the chain causes a ripple effect that doesn't easily subside.

When and how did these problems start?

When the COVID-19 pandemic emerged, people started falling sick and countries started locking down to control the spread of the disease. As a result, the production and delivery of countless materials slowed down or even stopped. This caused more than a ripple in the supply chain, it was a tsunami wave.

The pandemic also caused consumer spending patterns to change, which changed demand patterns (think back to toilet paper and Clorox wipe hoarding). This is classically known as the bullwhip effect in supply chain parlance. Online shopping skyrocketed, which put a lot of pressure on delivery services. Companies like Amazon were seeing buying volumes that resembled pre-Christmas in the middle of May.

How will these continued problems affect prices?

Higher prices are likely to be around for the foreseeable future because of a variety of factors. Shortages and increased demand invariably lead to prices going up, but this typically leads to temporary increases. It's also expected companies will stock up on inventory to avoid future shortages, which will increase costs as a result.

We're also seeing more permanent price increases as a byproduct of increased production costs, particularly because of labor woes. Wage rate increases have led to increased overhead, resulting in price increases to offset that cost. The pandemic has added to labor issues: fatalities, risk of falling ill, furloughs, businesses going under and people migrating with remote work or choosing to retire have all impacted the supply chain. In addition, the impact of stimulus checks, childcare credits, eviction moratoriums, decreased spending and migration to lower cost areas of the country adds to the changing financial condition of people, which has an impact on the labor pool.

Is there a solution? How long will it take?

How we "fix" the supply chain depends on what we want the supply chain to do. For example, we fixed the shortage of hand sanitizer fairly quickly as local supply increased and demand went down. However, it takes billions of dollars and many years to build local factories to produce the thousands of products in high demand (like semiconductors).

Conversely, if we continue to rely on goods exclusively produced overseas, shortages will continue and it will take a long time to return to normal supply. Factories overseas must first be able to produce material at a prepandemic pace, and then all the steps of the  must be appropriately staffed in order to bring that product to the U.S.

Worker shortages in the U.S. are not an easy fix: It takes two to four years for gantry crane operators to learn how to properly operate a crane, and  must obtain a commercial driver's license and go through training before they can deliver goods across the country. Neither of those jobs are in high demand right now, which only exacerbates the problem.

Lack of computer chips hurting Apple shows the severity of the global shortage

The 'great resignation' is a trend that began before the pandemic, and bosses need to get used to it

The ‘great resignation’ is a trend that began before the pandemic – and bosses need to get used to it
Credit: The Conversation

Finding good employees has always been a challenge—but these days it's harder than ever. And it is unlikely to improve anytime soon.

The so-called quit rate—the share of workers who voluntarily leave their jobs—hit a new record of 3% in September 2021, according to the latest data available from the Bureau of Labor and Statistics. The rate was highest in the leisure and hospitality sector, where 6.4% of workers quit their jobs in September. In all, 20.2 million workers left their employers from May through September.

Companies are feeling the effects. In August 2021, a survey found that 73% of 380 employers in North America were having difficulty attracting employees—three times the share that said so the previous year. And 70% expect this difficulty to persist into 2022.

Observers have blamed a wide variety of factors for all the turnover, from fear of contracting COVID-19 by mixing with co-workers on the job to paltry wages and benefits being offered.

As a professor of human resource management, I examine how employment and the  have changed over time and the impact this has on organizations and communities. While the current resignation behavior may seem like a new trend, data shows  has been rising steadily for the past decade and may simply be the new normal employers are going to have to get used to.

The economy's seismic shifts

The U.S.—alongside other advanced economies—has been moving away from a focus on productive sectors like manufacturing to a service-based economy for decades.

In recent years, the service sector accounted for about 86% of all employment in the U.S. and 79% of all economic growth.

That change has been seismic for employers. A majority of the jobs in service-based industries require only generalizable occupational skills such as competencies in computing and communications that are often easily transportable across companies. This is true across a wide range of professions, from accountants and engineers to truck drivers and customer services representatives. As a result, in service-based economies, it is relatively easy for employees to move between companies and maintain their productivity.

And thanks to information technology and , it has never been easier for employees to find out about new job opportunities anywhere in the world. The growing prevalence of remote working also means that in some cases employees will no longer need to physically relocate to start a new job.

Thus, the barriers and transition costs employees incur when switching employers have been reduced.

Greater options and lower costs to move mean that employees can be more selective and focus on picking jobs that best fit their personal needs and desires. What people want from work is inherently shaped by their cultural values and life situation. The U.S. labor market is expected to become far more diverse going forward in terms of gender, ethnicity and age. Thus, employers that cannot provide greater flexibility and variety in their working environment will struggle to attract and retain workers.

Employers now have a greater obligation than in the past to convince existing and would-be employees why they should stay or join their organizations. And there is no evidence to suggest this trend will change going forward.

What companies can do to adapt

It has been estimated that the cost to the employer of replacing a departing employee is on average 122% of that employee's annual salary in terms of finding and training a replacement.

Thus, there is a large incentive for businesses to adapt to the new  conditions and develop innovative approaches to keeping workers happy and in their .

A May 2021 survey found that 54% of employees surveyed from around the world would consider leaving their job if they were not afforded some form of flexibility in where and when they work.

Given the heightened priority employees place on finding a job that fits their preferences, companies need to adopt a more holistic approach to the types of rewards they provide. It's also important that they tailor the types of financial, social and developmental incentives and opportunities they provide to individual employees' preferences. It's not just about paying workers more. There are even examples of companies providing employees the choice of simply being paid in a cryptocurrency like bitcoin as an inducement.

While customizing the package of rewards each employees receives may potentially increase an organization's administrative costs, this investment can help retain a highly engaged workforce.

Managing the new normal

Companies should also plan on high  mobility to be endemic and reframe how they approach managing their workers.

One way to do this is by investing deeply in external relationships that help ensure consistent access to high-quality talent. This can include enhancing the relationships they have with educational institutions and former employees.

For example, many organizations have adopted alumni programs that specifically recruit former employees to rejoin.

These former employees are often less expensive to recruit, bring access to needed human capital and possess both an understanding of an organization's processes and an appreciation of the organization's culture.

The quit rate is likely to stay elevated for some time to come. The sooner employers accept that and adapt, the better they'll be at managing the new normalFacing compounding stressors, many American workers plan to change jobs in coming year

Provided by The Conversation 

Researchers of ancient DNA set guidelines for their work

Researchers of ancient DNA set guidelines for their work
The newly published guidelines set best practices for sampling human remains and carrying
 out scientific analysis. Above, Washington University researchers conducted 
archaeological excavations of the Bronze Age site complex “Dali.” The ancient DNA 
collected at Dali showed a significant change in the ancestry of the site’s inhabitants after 
2000 BC. Credit: Michael Frachetti

Fueled by technological advancements, ancient DNA research has grown by leaps and bounds over the last decade. From the first full ancient genome published in 2010 to the more than 4,000 analyzed today, the DNA collected from ancient human remains has advanced researchers' understanding of the origins and history of human populations around the world.

However, given the relative infancy of the field and its rapid development, researchers find themselves in a position where they are building the plane while flying, figuratively speaking.

"There are very serious ethical implications to dealing with human remains. These samples are taken from humans who had lives, families, and whose bodies represent the ancestral history of people still living today," said Michael Frachetti, professor of archaeology in Arts & Sciences at Washington University in St. Louis who has used ancient DNA research to study Central and Eastern Eurasia populations.

"Anthropologists, geneticists, biologists and other researchers have a responsibility to engage in detailed and thoughtful conversations about the ethics of using human remains and to agree on guidelines that might anticipate potentially unforeseen issues that cause direct harm to descendant communities we work with throughout our research," Frachetti said.

Recently, he was one of 64 scholars from 24 countries who collaborated to develop a set of globally applicable best practices for sampling human remains and carrying out . The guidelines were published Oct. 20 in the journal Nature.

According to Frachetti, the guidelines established by the group provide a framework for conducting ethical DNA research that considers complex and sometimes divergent concerns among global communities and researchers, including academic and nonacademic stakeholders. The guidelines include:

  • Abide by all regulations in the places where they work and from which the human remains originate;
  • Prepare a detailed plan prior to beginning any study;
  • Minimize damage to human remains;
  • Ensure data are made available following publication to allow critical re-examination of scientific findings; and
  • Engage with other stakeholders and ensure respect and sensitivity to stakeholder perspectives.

Below, Frachetti discusses the process of working with diverse scholars around the world and how this type of collaboration—which crosses regional, disciplinary and identity boundaries—contributes positively to the future of scholarly work.

How did this global collaboration transpire?

The international gathering was hosted by the Reich Lab at Harvard University. David Reich is an accomplished geneticist who, in the last 10 years, has emerged as one of the most prolific, yet sometimes criticized, voices for applying genomic research to ancient populations. His state-of-the-art laboratory has become an epicenter for the combination of archaeology and genetics and has a vast global network of scholars working on a wide range of questions.

The Reich lab called together an informal meeting among global colleagues, firstly to listen to different views on ethics and open a forum to express what each saw as critical or relevant to their own national or Indigenous communities. The aim at the start was just an open discussion, but the spectrum of global input was extremely eye opening. The invitation was open to anyone engaged in this type of work, but started among colleagues. Due to the COVID pandemic, the meeting was held virtually through Zoom.

What made this collaboration unique? How did this shape the team's work?

There were already a host of articles and statements—primarily from a North American perspective—which articulated the complex and important ethical issues surrounding DNA research. These articles, many of which were written by Indigenous scholars, were the gateway for this international conversation. But the views and insights of the diverse participants in our meeting showed that the starting point for ethics in DNA differs widely across the world. This is especially true when considering the different colonial and post-colonial histories of global communities. The important ethical concerns that might be central for say, Indigenous communities in North America, might be less of an issue in countries without similar histories.

The voices of other global participants brought different issues to the surface. Hearing 60 or more people with decades of practical work in this field—including Indigenous communities, academics, museum curators and others—illustrated that a baseline for ethical practice had not yet been adopted in many regions or was quite different in some parts of the world.

Scholars from different disciplines around the world expressed what they saw as the important elements of a globally relevant, ethical approach to genetics sampling. This wasn't just a feel-good meeting. Hard topics emerged and we were communicating across cultural, social and ethnic boundaries in real and equitable ways.

Because the meeting was held virtually, participants had to take turns speaking, which created the opportunity for more conversational consensus. To the credit of everyone who participated, nobody was there to forward a personal agenda. Everybody recognized that they had some expertise to contribute to the conversation, but they were also there to listen and learn.

Ultimately, everyone is working toward the most productive endgame, which is doing research that is first and foremost considerate of the power of human ancestry, which allows for people's voices to be heard, and is done in a way that does not cause conflict or harm.

I think we were able to distill general practices that could be applied—if locally considered and augmented in necessary ways—anywhere in the world.

How will these guidelines impact future ancient DNA research?

There were already a host of articles and statements—primarily from a North American perspective—which articulated the complex and important ethical issues surrounding DNA research. These articles, many of which were written by Indigenous scholars, were the gateway for this international conversation. But the views and insights of the diverse participants in our meeting showed that the starting point for ethics in DNA differs widely across the world. This is especially true when considering the different colonial and post-colonial histories of global communities. The important ethical concerns that might be central for say, Indigenous communities in North America, might be less of an issue in countries without similar histories.

The voices of other global participants brought different issues to the surface. Hearing 60 or more people with decades of practical work in this field—including Indigenous communities, academics, museum curators and others—illustrated that a baseline for ethical practice had not yet been adopted in many regions or was quite different in some parts of the world.

Scholars from different disciplines around the world expressed what they saw as the important elements of a globally relevant, ethical approach to genetics sampling. This wasn't just a feel-good meeting. Hard topics emerged and we were communicating across cultural, social and ethnic boundaries in real and equitable ways.

Because the meeting was held virtually, participants had to take turns speaking, which created the opportunity for more conversational consensus. To the credit of everyone who participated, nobody was there to forward a personal agenda. Everybody recognized that they had some expertise to contribute to the conversation, but they were also there to listen and learn.

Ultimately, everyone is working toward the most productive endgame, which is doing research that is first and foremost considerate of the power of human ancestry, which allows for people's voices to be heard, and is done in a way that does not cause conflict or harm.

I think we were able to distill general practices that could be applied—if locally considered and augmented in necessary ways—anywhere in the world.

This article has been translated into more than 20 languages, so the hope is that people around the world can participate in this conversation in impactful ways. Ultimately, our goal for these guidelines is producing better science, better social responsibility and better dialog among global communications.

What we've seen in the past is that unforeseen consequences can occur from DNA research. The guidelines give researchers a starting protocol to avoid common pitfalls.

India is a really great example of this. The diversity of the Indian population—its history, its regional mosaic and cultural background—is so inherently complex that if you don't engage carefully and different constituencies are unable to weigh in prior to beginning research, research can have serious social and political implications.

Engaging the communities with whom you're working is one of the primary principles outlined in the guidelines. The ideal is that there's a multiscalar engagement and conversation, in which the concerns or issues that are relevant to a range of stakeholders can serve as the driving force behind collaborative research.

Another important aspect of the guidelines is transparency and open access to data, which allows the opportunity for other experts to weigh in. The guidelines make sure you're meeting the benchmarks that you promised, like sharing results with partner communities, and providing stable scientific archives of the data. This demands that scholars consult with relevant Indigenous communities before designing the sampling, the goal being establishing a common mission and goal for the research. Sometimes this means the work won't be done—and that is also an acceptable outcome of these conversations.

Ultimately, our goal for these guidelines is producing better science, better social responsibility and more responsible results. No scientific program is ever going to be perfect—there will always be a need to revise and make modifications—but we should endeavor to sustain human rights and do no harm in our approach to science.

Why was it important for you and WashU to have a seat at the table?

WashU is a major player in so many of these conversations. Our anthropology department is internationally respected, and this rests in part on the individual ethical engagements by our faculty and students. Beyond archaeology and genetics, our department has excellence in global health, primatology and human evolution, domestication sciences and ancient populations here in St. Louis and throughout the Mississippi Valley. As such, we are a part of a wide global community that extends across these regions.

What advice do you have for your WashU colleagues who want to engage in this type of work?

I believe this type of global, collaborative work will become increasingly common across disciplines, if it's not already, because we now have technologies that truly bridge national boundaries in a more inclusive way.

If these types of conversation have not occurred in your field, they likely will in the future. This type of collaboration is beneficial not only in disciplines that deal with contemporary societies, but in any discipline, business or interaction that links local and global communities to serve humanity in positive ways.

From the formation of institutional codes, guidelines and ethical approaches, inclusive participation helps societies recognize and avoid the pitfalls of the past. What was most exciting to me about this experience is that over 60 scholars from various disciplines and countries shaped a collective voice that initiates dialog around these guidelines.Why scholars have created global guidelines for ancient DNA research

More information: Songül Alpaslan-Roodenberg et al, Ethics of DNA research on human remains: five globally applicable guidelines, Nature (2021). DOI: 10.1038/s41586-021-04008-x

Journal information: Nature 

Provided by Washington University in St. Louis 

World's oldest guide to brewing sake receives first English translation

World's oldest guide to brewing sake receives first English translation
Sake bottles and mushrooms at a standing bar in Aizuwakamatsu, Fukushima prefecture, 
in 2018. Credit: Eric Rath.

In Japan, the proverb "Sake wa honshin o arawasu" translates to "sake reveals the true heart."

But that's one of the few things translated when it comes to the country's signature alcoholic beverage.

"Surprisingly, despite the growing interest in sake in the U.S., there's hardly any research about the history of sake in English," said Eric C. Rath, professor of history at the University of Kansas.

"So in my translation and in a book that I'm writing, I want to give readers an understanding of sake's evolution and cultural significance."

His new article, "Sake Journal (Goshu no nikki): Japan's Oldest Guide to Brewing," provides the first English translation of the earliest Japanese manual for brewing sake. It appears in the winter issue of Gastronomica.

"Sake is sometimes translated as 'rice wine,' and that's a mistake since it's made more like beer than wine," he said.

That's not the only thing Westerners tend to misunderstand about the fermented drink.

Rath said, "Sake also has a higher alcohol content than wine. Unlike most other alcoholic beverages, sake can be enjoyed at a variety of temperatures. Cooling or heating the same sake yields remarkable changes in the taste. And sake goes well with a lot more than just Asian food. It's meant to be savored, not thrown into beer to make a 'sake bomb.'"

The original "Goshu no nikki" was a secret manuscript that was strictly safeguarded, its information kept primarily through oral tradition. It represented the earliest guide to brewing sake and one of the most significant sources for understanding its history in medieval Japan (1192–1600). Rath's article includes several translated recipes for sake, along with the directions for pasteurization.

"Back in the , brewers relied on ambient yeasts, and they had not yet perfected the best ways to ferment sake and maintain the alcohol content. They also used brown rice, which with the wild yeasts would have given it a gamier taste, far from the premium sake today that uses highly polished specialty rice and tends to be lighter, finely grained and leans toward having a melon bouquet," he said.

A curious amount of folklore surrounds the origins and processes around the beverage. One story asserts it began with the custom of virginal women chewing grains and using their saliva to render the sugars in the starch. Rath notes how modern sake brand names include words such as "maiden," "daughter" and "beauty," which can be construed as intentionally sexualizing the drink.

"Similar types of (chewed) sake were produced in Okinawa until very recently," he said. "At some point, though, this type of sake came to be associated with young women in Japan, perhaps because when the story was retold, the idea of virgin girls chewing and spitting was more appealing to older male sake drinkers."

Rath's first taste of sake came in high school, when he and some friends realized they could be served alcohol at Japanese restaurants in his hometown of Chicago.

"I recall having sake one of the times we went out for sushi. I remember that the taste was like warm rubber cement, the type of clear glue that's sold with the brush inside the lid. I was never a fan until I went to Japan and discovered there was a lot more variety to sake than the two brands I was familiar with in the U.S.," he said.

Rath recently published "Oishii: The History of Sushi" (Reaktion Books/University of Chicago Press, 2021), the first comprehensive chronicle of  written in English. He is also the author of the books "Japan's Cuisines: Food, Place and Identity," "Food and Fantasy in Early Modern Japan" and "Japanese Foodways, Past and Present" (with Stephanie Assmann).Mutation threatening high-quality brewing yeast identified

More information: Eric C. Rath, Sake Journal (Goshu no nikki), Gastronomica (2021). DOI: 10.1525/gfc.2021.21.4.42

Provided by University of Kansas