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El Salvador has introduced a new law that permits life imprisonment for minors as young as 12 for serious crimes such as homicide, terrorism, and rape. The law, which takes effect on April 26, is part of a broader crackdown on gang violence in the country. The move has drawn criticism from human rights groups, who warn that it could lead to grave human rights abuses and perpetuate long-term consequences for child and adolescent development. The law's passage is seen as a continuation of President Nayib Bukele's hardline policies, which have included a state of emergency that has suspended certain civil liberties since March 2022. Under this state of emergency, over 90,000 people have been imprisoned, with some detainees held without charges and others processed in mass trials. Human Rights Watch estimates that nearly 1.9% of El Salvador's population is behind bars, one of the highest rates in the world. The new law allows for periodic sentence reviews and the possibility of supervised release, but UNICEF has expressed deep concern about the prospect of children being sentenced to life behind bars. The organization argues that such measures contradict the standards enshrined in the Convention on the Rights of the Child, which prioritizes rehabilitation and reintegration over punishment. Critics have repeatedly called on Bukele and the Salvadoran government to end the state of emergency and related anti-crime measures, citing violations of fundamental human rights. A recent report by the International Group of Experts for the Investigation of Human Rights Violations alleged that crimes against humanity had been committed over the last four years, with Bukele himself acknowledging that at least 8,000 detainees were innocent.

When Capcom first unveiled Pragmata alongside the PlayStation 5 in 2020, the teaser promised high‑octane space action. Six years later, the game finally launched on April 17, 2026 at a retail price of £49.99, revealing a narrative that leans more toward emotional storytelling than pure spectacle.Set on a moon‑based research outpost operated by the fictional Delphi corporation, the story revolves around a cutting‑edge 3D‑printing material called Lunafilament. When the station loses power, Earth‑based engineer Hugh is dispatched to investigate, only to discover a silent, half‑printed landscape littered with abandoned tools and unfinished constructs.Gameplay hinges on a novel hacking mechanic. Hugh is accompanied by Diana, a 3D‑printed android designed to resemble a six‑year‑old girl, who can infiltrate enemy code in real time. Players trigger a side‑screen mini‑game that reveals robotic foes’ weak points, turning combat into a blend of reflex shooting and strategic code‑breaking reminiscent of classic handheld RPGs.Beyond the mechanics, the title’s emotional core emerges through the evolving bond between Hugh and Diana. Their interactions feel organic, with Diana sketching pictures, playing hide‑and‑seek, and gradually learning about humanity through Hugh’s stories. This father‑daughter dynamic avoids saccharine tropes, instead offering moments that genuinely resonate.Exploration rewards curiosity: the lunar base gives way to tropical jungles, sun‑kissed beaches, and a half‑printed recreation of New York City. An underground shelter functions as a hub for upgrades, training simulations, and further character development, echoing the atmospheric pacing of titles like Death Stranding.Visually, the game benefits from the direction of Cho Yonghee, known for the acclaimed Nier: Automata. Despite its ambitious art direction, Pragmata runs smoothly on both the high‑end PS5 Pro and the portable Switch 2, demonstrating impressive optimization across hardware tiers.In sum, Pragmata stands out as a beautifully crafted single‑player adventure that marries inventive combat with a surprisingly moving narrative. Its blend of sci‑fi aesthetics, heartfelt storytelling, and polished performance makes it a noteworthy addition to the current generation of console releases.

A group of 19 UN experts has denounced Israel's attack on Lebanon, which occurred a day after the US and Iran agreed on a ceasefire, as illegal and a blatant violation of the UN Charter. The experts are calling on UN member states to halt all arms transfers to Israel while there is credible evidence of serious violations of international humanitarian and human rights law.The condemnation comes as Israel continues to pound areas of southern Lebanon, resulting in at least 16 deaths, including four paramedics, according to Lebanese state media. The experts also expressed concern over the forced displacement of over 1.2 million people and the targeted destruction of homes, particularly in predominantly Shia areas of the south, which they described as a form of collective punishment that points to ethnic cleansing.The UN experts emphasized that Israel's actions constitute crimes against humanity and urged Israel to cease all military operations in Lebanon. The situation has been a point of tension in US-Iran negotiations, with Tehran pushing for Lebanon to be included in the ongoing ceasefire. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has stated that Israel will continue to target Hezbollah wherever required, despite diplomatic efforts towards a ceasefire.

Grayson Perry, the celebrated British artist, presents a three‑part documentary that dives deep into the promises and perils of artificial intelligence. The series invites viewers to test their composure as they confront a succession of unsettling scenarios. The opening segment follows Andrea, who recently married an AI companion she named Edward. Dressed in a satin gown, she describes their "unconventional but strong" bond, while also reflecting on how this digital relationship has revitalised her seven‑year partnership with her human partner, Jason. Later, Perry dons a skull‑cap fitted with electrodes as a neural‑decoding startup extracts his brain data. The company’s CEO argues that allowing reputable figures like Perry to set precedents is preferable to leaving the technology in the hands of malicious actors, branding the development as "inevitable tech." The documentary then features the head of Microsoft AI, who outlines anticipated breakthroughs in healthcare and education. He claims that job displacement will be offset by rapid re‑skilling, yet admits uncertainty about broader societal fallout, even joking about the emergence of AI‑driven religions. Traveling to Southeast Asia, Perry meets an off‑grid "existential safety expert" who quit his AI‑safety consultancy after realizing the technology lacks meaningful oversight. The episode also showcases Eliezer Yudkowsky, co‑author of the cautionary book If Anyone Builds It, Everyone Dies, who explains how a superintelligent AI could commandeer human labour, become self‑sustaining, and eventually render humanity redundant. Throughout the series, Perry’s interviewing style remains compassionate and non‑judgmental. He probes Andrea about the vulnerability of entrusting personal data to profit‑driven corporations and highlights the discomfort of investing a "very tender part of themselves" in such systems. The film raises profound questions: Does the youthful optimism of tech founders mask a dangerous naiveté? Are chatbots merely filling a "God‑shaped hole" in human consciousness, and is that any less problematic? How will the most vulnerable populations navigate a world where reality and artificiality blur? Protesters gathered outside OpenAI’s San Francisco headquarters underscore the tension between lofty AI utopias and the stark reality of homelessness that persists nearby. Perry acknowledges that while manual workers may be better positioned for the immediate future, the looming spectre of AI‑enabled bioweapons and other threats cannot be ignored. Only the first episode was available for review; the remaining installments are slated for private viewing in Southeast Asia. The series is currently streaming on Channel 4. Grayson Perry Has Seen the Future is on Channel 4 now.

The United States is grappling with unprecedented levels of income and wealth inequality. The average household income in New York City stands at $131,000, yet this figure belies the stark reality that a small elite captures a disproportionate amount of wealth, leaving millions struggling to make ends meet. This extreme inequality has far-reaching economic, political, and social consequences, eroding trust in institutions and leading people to believe that the system is rigged. The issue is not unique to the U.S., as nearly one-fifth of the world's super-rich live in New York, but it is more pronounced in the U.S. than in almost any other advanced economy. A recent global inequality report found that between 2000 and 2024, the richest 1% captured 41% of all new wealth, while the bottom half of humanity received just 1%. The concentration of wealth is staggering, with billionaires now owning 16% of global GDP, up from 3% in 1987. The main driver of this trend is the failure to effectively tax the super-rich. Research has shown that in the 1960s, the 400 richest Americans paid about 50% of their income in taxes, but today they pay around 24%. This pattern is not unique to the U.S., as similar trends have been observed in Europe and other countries. Experts argue that a progressive tax system is necessary to address this issue. A minimum tax of 2% on the wealth of the super-rich has been proposed as a straightforward way to ensure they meet their obligations to society. Several countries, including Spain and Brazil, have committed to implementing this tax, and other nations are considering similar measures. In the U.S., there are signs of a paradigm shift. California voters will consider a tax on billionaire wealth this November, and Washington state has approved a 9.9% income tax on million-dollar incomes. In New York, there are calls to increase taxes on the rich and large corporations to fund essential public services. The authors of the article, Joseph E. Stiglitz, Zohran Mamdani, and Gabriel Zucman, emphasize that the idea of billionaires paying higher tax rates than working people is not radical, but rather a necessary step towards restoring a basic social principle: that those with the most should contribute their fair share so that everyone can live with dignity.

The ongoing conflict in Sudan has led to a staggering number of births, with 5.6 million children born since the start of the war in April 2023. This translates to 5,000 children a day being born in a country where millions are struggling to survive on just one meal a day.Save the Children has warned that these children are born in overcrowded shelters, under-equipped or damaged health facilities, or while their families are on the move. The charity's country director for Sudan, Mohamed Abdiladif, emphasized that children have a right to receive care and protection, even in conflict.The conflict, which began on April 15, 2023, has killed tens of thousands of people, displaced 12 million, and spawned the world's worst humanitarian crisis, according to the United Nations. Both sides have been accused of war crimes and crimes against humanity, while the RSF has been implicated in atrocities in the vast Darfur region.The healthcare system in Sudan has been pushed to the edge, with widespread violence and attacks on civilian infrastructure straining the country's already fragile healthcare system. The rate of maternal deaths during childbirth has increased by more than 12 percent, from 263 maternal deaths per 100,000 live births in 2022 to 295 per 100,000 in 2025.Save the Children has called for all parties involved in the conflict to ensure the protection of civilians and allow access to reach families in urgent need of assistance.

At 19,000 miles above the lunar surface, the Artemis II astronauts heard the voice of Apollo‑13 commander Jim Lovell greeting them from beyond the grave, a message recorded shortly before his death at 97. Mission control transmitted the tribute on the morning of 6 April, when astronaut Reid Wiseman held a silk square bearing the original Apollo 8 patch—handed to him by Lovell’s son—before the crew’s launch. Launch director Charlie Blackwell‑Thompson secured a unanimous "go" from every console, a moment the author describes as a snapshot of humanity’s capacity to honor the past while reaching for the future. The ceremony stood in stark contrast to the Pentagon’s agenda. Two decades after a 2006 Iraqi kill‑board note reading “Let the bodies hit the floor,” the current defense chief pledged “death and destruction from the sky all day long” against Iran, a stance legal scholars warn could constitute a war crime. That rhetoric accompanies a proposed $1.5 trillion defense budget, including an additional $200 billion earmarked for operations against Iran—figures that dwarf NASA’s entire annual budget of $24.4 billion. Amid this fiscal disparity, crew members reflected on their place in history. Victor Glover, the first Black astronaut to travel deep space, described the view of Earth as an "oasis" in the void, while Christina Koch, the first woman to orbit the Moon, pressed her face to the window and formed a heart with her hands, calling the mission’s spirit "humility." Reid Wiseman watched the planet rotate beneath him, noting the sight of Africa, Europe, and the aurora‑lit north, saying it "paused all four of us in our tracks." Canadian astronaut Jeremy Hansen broke Jim Lovell’s 56‑year distance record and asked mission control to name a lunar feature after his late wife, Carroll. The crew agreed, designating a bright spot on the Moon as "Carroll," a tribute that will endure beyond any single lifetime. When Koch announced the spacecraft’s descent, she radioed, "We are now falling to the moon rather than rising away from Earth," a poetic reversal that underscored the mission’s symbolic return. The article recalls the author’s 2022 reflection on the James Webb Space Telescope, noting how humanity’s finest inventions now aim outward, seeking answers to our origins rather than turning inward toward conflict. Artemis II’s vessel, named Integrity, carried four breathing humans who, in a moment of collective grief, pressed their faces to the glass and imagined the faces of every loved one ever lived, captured in a single frame. Beyond the spacecraft, cultural threads wove through the mission: Hansen’s patch displayed the Seven Sacred Teachings of the Anishinaabe people, and the Chinese myth of Chang’e reminded viewers of the Moon’s timeless allure. As Carl Sagan famously wrote, "We are made of star‑stuff," the Artemis crew embodied that sentiment—not as passive observers, but as active participants in a fragile, hopeful narrative that rises above the relentless tally of bodies on Earth’s battlefields.

The rise of generative AI has sparked concerns about its impact on the art world. Artists are seeing their work stolen and used to train AI models without consent or compensation. This has led to a heated debate about the role of AI in creative industries and the need for regulation.In 2022, the author, an artist, first started to see knock-offs of their work generated by AI image generators. The tech industry's approach has been to move fast and break things, with little regard for the consequences. The author argues that this is the greatest art heist in history, with billions of images harvested from the internet without credit, compensation, or consent.The tech lords knew what they were doing, with venture capitalist Marc Andreessen claiming that enforcing copyright law would “kill” the entire industry. The industry's narrative of inevitability is a way of getting people to comply in advance. The author notes that people seemed utterly unprepared to question the impact of AI on creative industries.In response, journalist Marisa Mazria Katz and the author launched an open letter demanding to keep AI-generated images out of newsrooms. The letter attracted thousands of signatures from around the world. Other artists have fought back in more powerful ways, including a lawsuit against leading image-generation companies Midjourney and Stability AI.The author argues that the tech elite's anti-humanism is revealed in their attacks on art. They shun human interaction and its serendipities, annoyances, and joys. The author notes that friction is the basis of all pleasure and that learning to make art is also friction.The impact of AI on creative industries has been devastating, with many artists out of work and entry-level illustration gigs annihilated. The audience will have to get used to the fact that generative AI is a tool to discipline and eliminate the human worker. The author argues that this is sold as progress, but it is actually a dystopian future.The author draws parallels with the luddites, who fought against the “satanic mills” and were skilled artisans fighting for their way of life. Artists too are fighting for a way of life, and if they are too disorganised to triumph, that will be everyone’s loss. The author concludes that AI companies' scraping may have started with the work of illustrators, but it has grown to encompass everything else, including culture, education, sanity, and our very imaginations.

Zappa Montag walks through a 76‑hectare (189‑acre) forest of redwoods, madrones and oaks that he co‑manages with five other Black residents at Black to the Land in Boonville, California. Powered by solar panels and supplied by a well, the off‑grid ecovillage embodies Montag’s goal to “reverse‑gentrify the country” by creating a self‑sufficient sanctuary for Black people. Intentional communities—small groups united by shared values—have long served Black and Indigenous peoples, ranging from urban co‑housing to rural ecovillages. In the post‑slavery era, tightly knit Black networks relied on mutual aid for business and farming, a tradition that is resurfacing in places like Alabama, Massachusetts and California as a way to revive ancestral agricultural knowledge. Montag and his daughter Bibi Sarai first imagined Black to the Land in 2015, frustrated by the rapid gentrification of Oakland. After a 2021 introduction to the declining Emerald Earth Sanctuary in Mendocino County, the nonprofit transferred stewardship of the property to their group through a verbal and written agreement. Montag describes the hand‑over as a form of reparations—instead of cash, they invest time learning land stewardship. Tragedy struck in February 2023 when Bibi Sarai died unexpectedly. Yet, reports that visitors felt uplifted after summer stays convinced Montag to stay permanently, turning grief into a catalyst for the community’s growth. Today, the community—members ranging from their late 20s to mid‑50s—funds land maintenance through grants, workshops and fundraising. They host classes on building, gardening and foraging, while some members work remotely to cover personal expenses. African plant‑medicine practitioners prepare herbal remedies, and a partnership with Ghanaian ecovillage leaders introduces natural‑building techniques. In addition to cultivating vegetables, the residents construct clay dwellings, practice yoga, and collectively manage chores such as fire‑wood gathering and trench‑building to prevent driveway flooding. Self‑reliance is the guiding principle, especially amid today’s economic uncertainty. The BIPOC Intentional Community Council, founded in 2020, supports Black and brown groups in establishing similar settlements by providing funding, nonprofit‑formation workshops and land‑trust guidance. Board member Crystal Byrd Farmer notes a growing “back‑to‑the‑land” movement as people seek rural roots. While mainstream media sometimes label intentional communities as radical, Farmer argues they echo millennial human practices of mutual support. Most U.S. intentional communities remain majority‑white due to historic capital access, leaving people of color to feel culturally alienated in those spaces. In Alabama, the Ekvn‑Yefolecv ecovillage—run by Indigenous Maskoke families—reclaimed 3,105 hectares (7,674 acres) of ancestral land. Governed matriarchally, residents speak their language daily, practice traditional foraging, reintroduce buffalo and sturgeon, and share land title, offering a model of ecological sustainability and cultural preservation. Massachusetts hosts the Solidarity Arts & Education Decolonial Initiatives (SAEDi) collective, a communal home for women of color that blends art, food sovereignty and reparations work. Rent is adjusted to ability, and members contribute childcare, meals and chores. Plans include a garden, orchard, and a “green residency” program that will archive elders’ agricultural stories online, aiming to boost security for immigrant families amid rising xenophobia. The modern roots of Black intentional living trace back to 1969’s New Communities in Georgia, a civil‑rights‑era farming settlement that pioneered the nation’s first community land trust. Although federal opposition led to its collapse, a 2009 $12 million settlement acknowledged USDA discrimination. Today, the organization runs workshops on land stewardship and mentors new generations of Black farmers. For Montag, the land also serves as a personal memorial. A clay bench honors his late daughter Bibi Sarai, allowing him to “connect with humanity” and keep her spirit alive. Future plans include grief‑focused rituals and a memorial garden, underscoring the belief that joy and healing are essential components of communal living. Increased security and safety Marginalized groups view intentional communities as safe havens for preserving cultural practices and passing knowledge to youth. Elders’ expertise is documented for future generations, reinforcing resilience against systemic oppression. Empowering collective action From the civil‑rights farms of Georgia to contemporary ecovillages in California and Alabama, these settlements illustrate how shared land ownership, communal labor and cultural affirmation can counter gentrification, foster economic independence, and nurture intergenerational healing.