Monday, July 13, 2026

Earthquake in Venezuela: The Struggle to Survive



 July 13, 2026

Photograph Source: Venezolana de Televisión – Public Domain

On 24 June, Venezuela was celebrating two important holidays: the 205th anniversary of the Battle of Carabobo, the battle that sealed the country’s independence, and the feast of St. John the Baptist, declared by UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity, a celebration with deep spiritual significance, especially for the Afro-descendant communities of Venezuela. A day of celebration that was cut short at 6:04 and 6:05 p.m. by two earthquakes measuring 7.2 and 7.5 on the Richter scale, respectively, with 39 seconds between them.

At the time of this writing, the official information released by the president of the National Assembly, Jorge Rodríguez, reports 1,719 deaths, 5,034 injured, 15,866 displaced, 855 damaged buildings (of which 189 collapsed completely), 38 affected hospitals, and 1,645 other structures—such as bridges and roads—damaged. This level of destruction is unprecedented in the country.

The earthquakes that occurred on 24 June constitute a unique event known as a seismic doublet. It involves the rupture of one fault (in this case, the Boconó Fault), which in turn triggers the rupture of another (the San Sebastián Fault). This phenomenon produces a highly asymmetrical, overlapping, and chaotic wave field. The rupture occurred from west to east, which is why the most severe effects were observed to the east of the epicenter. What makes this ‘double earthquake’ so deadly is that the waves produced by the second earthquake overlap with those of the first, amplifying its destructive power. The overlap also caused an earthquake that normally lasts 30-40 seconds to extend for 2 to 3 minutes, triggering a ‘perfect geodynamic storm.’ So far, 609 aftershocks have been recorded. A monster for which no one could have been prepared.

Immediately, like vultures, the media and so-called ‘influencers’ launched a campaign to dismiss the Venezuelan government’s response, arguing that the collapsed buildings were those constructed by the Venezuela Housing Mission—a program unique in the world that has provided housing to more than 4 million families (the reality is that 80 percent of the collapsed buildings were constructed by the private sector), and that civil protection agencies, firefighters, and rescue workers had failed to show up—all in an attempt to generate more distress and uncertainty among the population.

This is a truly dirty campaign that should put to shame those who, from the comfort of their computers, profit from the suffering of others and—lacking any serious proposals—criticize the government by spreading lies and causing chaos in an already highly delicate situation.

The reality is that as of 29 June, there were 30,000 rescue workers deployed—including military personnel, police, firefighters, civil protection personnel, and Red Cross staff—and 75,238 families have been assisted. 7,237,000 kilos of food have been distributed, 222,478 food bags have been distributed in La Guaira state (the hardest-hit area), 4,200 people have received medical assistance, 90 percent of the power supply has been restored, and even five days after the tragedy, the search for survivors continues. This effort has been joined by 10,834 volunteers who have been accredited to prevent disorder that would hinder rescue operations.

It is important to note that all of this mobilization and effort is taking place despite the more than 1,000 unilateral coercive measures (erroneously called ‘sanctions’) that the U.S. government has imposed on Venezuela, measures to which the European Union has also adhered. Both the U.S. and some EU countries offered ‘humanitarian aid’ to address the tragedy, but there could be no greater cynicism and hypocrisy on the part of those who have subjected the country to hardship for more than a decade with the sole aim of bringing about a change in government and plundering Venezuela’s many resources, including the world’s largest oil reserves. In fact, unilateral coercive measures are designed to undermine the will of the people through attacks on the economy, restrictions that prevent free trade with other countries, the export of the country’s products, and the import of everything that is not produced domestically but is needed—including not only spare parts and machinery but also food and medicine. It is a fact that, during the pandemic, for example, Venezuela was prevented from accessing the COVAX fund to purchase vaccines—a situation that could easily be characterized as an attempt at genocide.

Unilateral coercive measures are a perverse mechanism. A recent study published in the Lancet demonstrates, using rigorous statistical techniques and databases from the United Nations and the World Bank, that coercive measures—especially those implemented unilaterally by the U.S. (without United Nations authorization)—have a direct impact on public health, resulting in 564,258 deaths annually, a figure comparable to those caused by wars. The U.S. has killed more than 28 million people over the past 50 years through the imposition of unilateral coercive measures. These measures are illegal and violate international law and theCharter of the United Nations. A report issued in 2021 by the United Nations Special Rapporteur describes the grave situation Venezuela was facing that year as a result of these coercive measures, confirming the findings of the study we just cited.

It is this country, battered by these illegal and criminal measures—with hospitals and emergency systems compromised by years of attacks—that today faces a tragedy of superlative proportions. Fortunately, there has been sincere solidarity from countries such as Cuba, Mexico, and Nicaragua, among others, which are providing rescue workers, heavy equipment, medicines, and a great deal of compassion, and are supporting the arduous work carried out by Venezuelan teams. As for the United States—the country that, on January 3 of this year, bombed and kidnapped the president—we can only demand the immediate withdrawal of the coercive measures it has imposed and the release of President Nicolás Maduro and Congresswoman Cilia Flores. The hypocritical aid they offer is not welcome. In Venezuela, the government, the armed forces, and the people—organized with the help of true friends—are working tirelessly to save as many lives as possible and restore normalcy as soon as possible.

This article was produced by Globetrotter

Guillermo R Barreto is Venezuelan and holds a PhD in Science (Oxford University). He is a retired professor at Simón Bolívar University (Venezuela). He was Deputy Minister of Science and Technology, President of the National Fund for Science and Technology, and Minister of Ecosocialism and Water (Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela). He is currently a researcher at the Tricontinental Institute for Social Research and a visiting fellow at the Center for the Study of Social Transformations-IVIC.

Canada’s microbial fuel factories: How university researchers are turning microorganisms into the next generation of biofuels

Dr. Tim Sandle
July 11, 2026
DIGITAL JOURNAL

Algae on a canal. Image by Tim Sandle

As governments and industries search for alternatives to fossil fuels, biofuels remain one of the most promising routes toward decarbonising transportation, aviation and industrial processes. Yet traditional biofuels, produced from crops such as corn, wheat and sugarcane, have long attracted criticism due to land-use requirements, competition with food production, and variable environmental performance. Increasingly, scientists are looking elsewhere, to microorganisms.

Across Canada, university researchers are investigating algae, cyanobacteria, bacteria and engineered yeasts capable of converting carbon dioxide, waste streams and renewable biomass into fuels and fuel precursors. While commercial-scale deployment remains some distance away, the science suggests that microorganisms could become the basis of a new generation of sustainable fuel production systems.

Microorganisms offer several advantages over conventional energy crops. Many species grow rapidly, require little land, can be cultivated using wastewater or industrial emissions, and often produce oils, alcohols or hydrocarbons naturally. Microalgae, in particular, have attracted considerable attention because they are photosynthetic and can convert sunlight and carbon dioxide into energy-rich lipids. Researchers at Canada’s National Research Council have described algae as robust microorganisms capable of growth in photobioreactors, open ponds and wastewater systems without relying on agricultural land. The resulting biomass can then be converted into biodiesel, bio-oil, bioethanol and other renewable fuels.


Rather than extracting carbon from geological deposits formed millions of years ago, microbial systems recycle contemporary carbon already circulating in the atmosphere.
Algae remain the leading candidates

One of Canada’s most important academic resources in algal biotechnology is the Canadian Phycological Culture Centre (CPCC) at the University of Waterloo. The collection contains more than 400 strains of algae and cyanobacteria, many originating from Canadian waters, providing researchers with a vast genetic library for biotechnology applications, including biofuel development.

Several species stand out including Chlorella vulgaris. This freshwater microalga is among the most extensively studied organisms for biodiesel production. Under nutrient-limited conditions, Chlorella accumulates large quantities of lipids, which can be extracted and converted into biodiesel through transesterification. Researchers view the species as attractive because of its rapid growth and relatively high oil content.

Another microalga receiving attention is Scenedesmus obliquus. University of Toronto research has examined engineered biofilms containing this species, exploring ways to increase biomass productivity while reducing harvesting costs—one of the major economic barriers to algal fuel production.

Although often referred to as blue-green algae, cyanobacteria are actually photosynthetic bacteria. These organisms are particularly interesting because they can be genetically modified to directly produce fuel molecules, including ethanol, hydrogen and hydrocarbon-like compounds. The CPCC maintains numerous cyanobacterial strains specifically for biotechnology research, carbon sequestration studies and environmental applications.

A river with cyanobacteria on the water. Image by Tim Sandle

Beyond naturally occurring algae, Canadian researchers are increasingly applying synthetic biology to microorganisms. At the University of Calgary, biotechnology research includes microbial metabolic engineering aimed at producing renewable energy products through modified biological pathways. Researchers are investigating how microbial systems can be redesigned to manufacture valuable compounds more efficiently, potentially creating industrial-scale microbial production platforms.

Rather than relying solely on lipid accumulation, synthetic biology enables scientists to reprogram microbes to produce specific chemicals that can serve as advanced biofuels. These include isobutanol, ethanol, and sustainable aviation fuel intermediates.
Methane-eating bacteria: Another possibility

An intriguing area of Canadian research involves methanotrophs. These are bacteria that consume methane as their primary energy source. The University of Calgary’s microbial ecology research includes investigations into microorganisms involved in methane cycling. Methanotrophs possess enzymes capable of oxidizing methane into useful carbon compounds that can potentially be transformed into fuels, chemicals and biomaterials.

This approach has dual environmental value in terms of reducing methane emissions, a potent greenhouse gas and producing valuable fuel feedstocks from waste methane streams. This means landfills, wastewater treatment facilities and agricultural operations could eventually become sources of renewable carbon for microbial conversion systems.

Many microbial biofuel systems are attractive because they can utilize materials that would otherwise be discarded. Researchers at the University of Toronto have explored biological conversion processes involving wastewater, biosolids and industrial emissions. Coupling waste treatment with microbial cultivation creates the possibility of simultaneously reducing pollution while generating fuel feedstocks.

This “circular bioeconomy” concept is gaining increasing support among policymakers and researchers because it addresses multiple sustainability challenges simultaneously. Instead of viewing wastewater as a disposal problem, it becomes a nutrient source and instead of treating carbon dioxide as waste, it becomes feedstock.

Perhaps the most significant future market for microbial biofuels lies in aviation. While passenger vehicles are increasingly electrified, aircraft remain dependent on energy-dense liquid fuels. Algal oils are chemically similar to some petroleum-based fuel fractions and can be upgraded into sustainable aviation fuel (SAF). Researchers continue to investigate hydrothermal liquefaction and catalytic conversion technologies capable of transforming algal biomass into jet-fuel-compatible products.
The challenges remain substantial

Despite the scientific promise, microbial fuels have experienced cycles of hype and disappointment. The primary challenge remains economics, since producing fuel from microorganisms still typically costs more than extracting and refining petroleum. Harvesting microalgae, extracting oils, maintaining cultivation systems and scaling photobioreactors all require substantial investment. Numerous studies have concluded that while technically feasible, large-scale algal fuel production remains commercially challenging. There is also a biological trade-off in that many microorganisms grow rapidly but produce relatively little fuel. Others accumulate large amounts of oil but grow slowly.

Researchers have wrestled with this problem for decades, prompting increasing interest in genetic engineering and synthetic biology approaches designed to optimize both productivity and fuel yield. Yet, if Canadian researchers can improve microbial productivity, lower harvesting costs and integrate fuel production with carbon capture and wastewater treatment, microbial biofuels could become one of the country’s most important bioeconomy sectors over the next two decades. But the economics suggest that success will come from combining fuel production with multiple revenue streams rather than relying on fuel sales alone.

Dodging Dogma: Moving to Higher Ground in Higher Education


 July 13, 2026

Image by Nathan Dumlao.

Do universities need to foster more intellectual diversity among professors? Should there be affirmative action for conservative thinkers in disciplines such as sociology and social work? Asked less often, but just as relevant: Should business schools and economics departments hire a few socialists?

This long-running debate intensified in Trump’s second term, as MAGA forces ramped up attacks on any challenge to right-wing populist politics. Unfortunately, a principled question about the appropriate mix of ideologies in a faculty has been twisted to advance political goals.

Rather than offer policy recommendations for institutions coping with this mess (because I don’t have any), I want to speak in favor of intellectual diversity for individuals (because we all need to remember to keep an open mind). In my three decades in academia, I saw too many professors hang on too tightly to the conventional wisdom of their intellectual gang rather than entertain new ways of thinking.

My teaching career provides several examples of the dangers of dogma, on all sides.

For seven years, I was a Faculty Fellow in the Division of Diversity and Community Engagement, which was the DEI unit (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) of the University of Texas at Austin until a state law eliminated it in 2024. “Faculty Fellow” just meant that on top of my day job (teaching in the School of Journalism), I received a bit of funding for local projects, primarily to help launch a community center.

I enjoyed the community work but found that lots of people assumed, incorrectly, that they could predict my political positions from my association with the division. But I never fit comfortably on either side in the culture wars in higher education, a status not unique to me. I’m not suggesting I was a model professor but rather that reactions to my work show the dangers of dogma.

The politics of teaching

The first task is to clarify the relationship between intellectual work and political advocacy. Avoiding subjects with political implications is impossible in the social sciences and humanities. (Journalism departments are trade schools that include scholars drawing on both traditions; I taught about media law, ethics, and politics.) By political I don’t mean partisan battles but competing claims about human nature, a good society, and the distribution of wealth and power—questions that can’t be resolved by evidence and logic alone. Teaching is not merely politics, but there’s always an underlying politics to teaching about human affairs, whether acknowledged or not.

Second, while scholars in the natural sciences strive to identify laws of nature, there are no laws of human affairs. We search for patterns in a complex world, looking for clues about people and societies, but we shouldn’t pretend to be laying down the law of anything—people are more complex than particles. In my teaching about journalism and society, I offered what I thought were the best analyses of those patterns and explained my reasons. I tried to be upfront with students about my politics, the moral principles behind my political commitments, and how they influenced my intellectual inquiry.

When professors follow the conventional wisdom of the dominant culture—“U.S. foreign policy supports democracy abroad,” for example—the political dimensions of a course might seem invisible. When my teaching challenged those conventions, as it often did, I was never surprised that many people thought I was imposing my politics on students. My focus here: Why did people so often guess wrong about the political positions I advocated outside the classroom?

Intellectual life shouldn’t be about choosing sides, but too often people defend their team without question. I was a left-leaning DEI guy and critiqued the dominant culture and many conservative claims, but I tried to avoid the dogma of the left or DEI. During my 26 years at UT, I annoyed people of every political persuasion, not to be a gadfly but by striving for intellectual honesty. How well did I do? As a teacher, students are the best judges of my performance. As a citizen, I offered arguments in extensive public writing that anyone can evaluate.

My politics

I’ll start with my approach to human affairs. Our behavior is unpredictably complex because individual variation (the product of genes and early experience) plays out in social systems that shape behavior (often in ways we can’t see or don’t understand in the moment), within the parameters set by human nature (which is universal, despite cultural differences). It’s hard to argue with that statement at that level of abstraction. Disagreements come from how we weigh those three aspects of human experience.

Race: In the late 1990s, I started writing about white privilege, the unearned advantages that we white people have in contemporary U.S. society. The brutal white supremacy behind genocide, slavery, and legal segregation eventually morphed into today’s kindler-and-gentler white dominance, which isn’t always kind or gentle. I have tried to articulate an analysis in plain language rather than academic jargon, but my politics on race are in line with DEI principles. Yet I have long bristled at the counterproductive nature of many DEI trainings, which often are weighed down by that jargon and a tone of moral superiority.

Sex/Gender: My intellectual and political foundations are in feminism, but not today’s most common feminism that leans liberal and sounds postmodern. My writing on pornography, prostitution, and the sexual-exploitation industries is rooted in radical feminism, which rejects fashionable liberal/left rationalizations for “sex work.” For more than a decade I have also critiqued the ideology of the transgender movement, again from a radical feminist perspective. That put me in conflict with DEI advocates and institutions, both in my university and in liberal/left political circles.

Global affairs: There is much talk today of the threats by countries such as Russia to the rules-based international order created after World War II under U.S. leadership. Russian politicians and oligarchs are, indeed, a threat to that order, as well as to their own people. But U.S. politicians and oligarchs—Republicans and Democrats—typically act as if the United States is exempt from most of those rules, and if some people don’t have to follow the rules then rules aren’t really rules. My writing and organizing activities, especially after the U.S. military response to the 9/11 terrorist attacks, argued that U.S. citizens should hold our government accountable for violations of international law and war crimes. That work, which led the university’s president to condemn me publicly, is squarely in the leftie camp.

Economic inequality: People have the capacity to be both cooperative and competitive. Critics of capitalism point out, appropriately, that designing an economy to intensify competition guarantees inequality. Harnessing our capacity for greed and self-interest may increase the gross national product, but the outcomes will be grotesque, a society of billionaires and homeless. I am one of those critics, but I don’t think that transcending capitalism is the answer. That would be a good start, but in societies with millions of people, the cooperative aspects of human nature are a thin reed on which to lean. I remain a critic of capitalism but don’t think democratic socialism can solve problems at the scale we face today.

Ecological crises: Climate change may be today’s most dramatic environmental challenge, but other threats to ecosystems are no less vexing: soil erosion and degradation from agriculture, chemical contamination from industry, and biodiversity loss from human exploitation of land and water. The problem is not just fossil fuels but overshoot—humans drawing down the ecological capital of the planet beyond replacement levels. Consumption is not equally distributed, of course, but too many people are consuming too much in the aggregate. Eight billion people living in high-energy/high-technology societies—no matter what the economic system or energy sources—is unsustainable. Because almost no one—left, right, or center—endorses collectively imposed limits on consumption, my writing on ecology gets me labeled a “doomer” by people across the political spectrum.

Summing up: On race and international affairs, I support positions that are common on the left. On sex/gender issues, I am a feminist but reject the current liberal/postmodern dogma on so-called sex work and transgenderism. I critique capitalism but am wary of naïve celebrations of socialism. And when it comes to the multiple cascading ecological crises, I argue that no contemporary political project adequately confronts our predicament.

Coping with complexity, living within limits

I reject the MAGA movement’s anti-intellectual attacks on universities, but I think people’s annoyance with intellectual elitism is justified. I favor confronting inequality but find some DEI training to be tone-deaf to the complexity of everyday life. Much of my work is rooted in feminism, but by the time I retired in 2018 I wasn’t welcome in most women’s studies spaces. I critique capitalism and imperialism but think anti-capitalist and anti-imperialistic rhetoric is sometimes as simplistic as defenses of those systems. And on the most daunting challenge of our time—the ecological viability of a large-scale human presence on Earth—I think almost everyone denies or ignores harsh realities.

If I were still teaching, I likely would have trouble navigating the political struggles on campus. I would resist the threats to faculty independence but urge professors to recognize our collective failure to be accountable to the public. I would want professors to stand firm in analyzing oppressive systems but also to self-reflect on how that commitment can calcify and become counterproductive. And I would continue to ask all of us to face economic and ecological problems that have no easy solutions, perhaps no solutions at all if we refuse to turn away from modern techno-industrial society.

The more I know, the more I am aware of what I don’t know. Intellectual humility is more important than ever—for everyone. If any of my arguments are off base, I invite critique to improve our understanding of the world—I don’t assume I have the correct analysis of every issue. Professors need to challenge society but also challenge each other to meet intellectual standards and live up to moral principles that we claim to embrace. That doesn’t eliminate conflict but at least can make conflict more productive.

My three decades in academia taught me that it’s hard to be critically self-reflective about that conflict. As a young professor, I was too sure of my conclusions and not self-critical enough of my ideology. These days I hope I’m less self-righteous and more open to challenges. We all need to strive for the higher ground that higher education promises.

Robert Jensen is an emeritus professor in the School of Journalism and Media at the University of Texas at Austin and a founding board member of the Third Coast Activist Resource Center. He collaborates with New Perennials Publishingand the New Perennials Project at Middlebury College. Jensen can be reached at rjensen@austin.utexas.edu. To join an email list to receive articles by Jensen, go to https://www.thirdcoastactivist.org/jensenupdates-info.html. Follow him on Twitter: @jensenrobertw