On the whole, life after work improves well-being. Yet not all groups thrive. Those on modest earnings who spent their careers in physically demanding jobs, and high earners who retire late, are especially prone to dips in mental health. Women, the unmarried, and the poor fare worse still.

Different outcomes

The study, one of the first to chart mental health across the three stages of retirement—before, during, and after—analysed data from 1,583 Dutch adults who left the workforce between 2007 and 2023. The average retirement age was 66-67. Researchers tracked psychological well-being, depression, and anxiety up to five and a half years either side of retirement.

For low earners (below the minimum wage), mental health was weakest throughout, showing an initial “honeymoon” lift after work ended but declining within two and a half years. Middle earners enjoyed a healthier trajectory, though physically strenuous jobs eroded the benefits. High earners saw little change before and after retirement but reported a sharp improvement once they stopped working. Those who delayed retirement experienced slower gains.

The findings underline the need for targeted policy. Retirees with the lowest incomes remain particularly vulnerable, the researchers warn. Future work could also explore whether choosing to retire, rather than being forced out, alters the pattern.

Retirement, then, is not a uniform release into leisure. It is a transition with distinct phases—and, for some, lingering risks.

Researchers tested the views of more than 3,000 adults on immigration from the European Union. A randomly selected group was asked to read a 400-word vignette about “Sonia”, a Polish nurse working in the NHS, who cherishes British values of hard work and fairness, and spends her free time watching David Attenborough documentaries. After reading Sonia’s profile, 73% of participants said EU immigration was a good thing—20 percentage points higher than the 53% who had read only a neutral passage about baking bread.

Well designed messaging

The message was no accident. It combined personal narrative, emotional cues, and facts—such as the contribution of migrant doctors and nurses to Britain’s health service—designed to appeal especially to voters with authoritarian leanings. Such voters, characterized by a preference for order, rules, and strong leadership, tend to be most skeptical of immigration and were more likely to back Brexit in 2016. Polling before last year’s election suggested that supporters of the Conservatives and Reform UK scored higher on authoritarian measures than those backing Labour, the Liberal Democrats, or the Greens.

That such a short passage can yield a swing of 20 points suggests views are malleable. The dominant political narrative since the referendum has been almost uniformly negative—“stop the boats” and “smash the gangs” have been more familiar refrains than stories of economic benefit. Yet the fiscal case is plain: the Office for Budget Responsibility forecasts billions in additional tax revenues from immigration, with little strain on welfare.

The Cambridge team also tested a second message, tailored to liberal voters, in which Sonia was recast as a fashion student enchanted by the inclusiveness of the Queen’s Jubilee. That version raised support for EU immigration by 12 points. But it was the nurse’s story that proved far more persuasive across the spectrum.

Things can be changed

The researchers caution against writing off sceptics as irredeemable. Voters may appear entrenched, but exposure to positive, relatable stories about migrants can alter perceptions quickly. As they note, “a swing of 20 points on such a divisive issue tells us that attitudes are far from fixed.”

The lesson is obvious. If Britain’s leaders wish to make the case for immigration, they should do more than cite spreadsheets. A story about Sonia, the nurse, is more potent than another chart about GDP.

Broad benefits

Launched in 2018, the scheme has already been shown to boost enrolment among poorer students. The new research, the first to examine long-term outcomes, suggests that those who qualify are more likely to persist once on campus. Among students near the income eligibility cut-off, 96.6% of Promise recipients stayed on into their second year, compared with 93.4% of those just above the threshold. The three-point gap is statistically significant at an institution where retention is already high.

Comparisons with a broader group reinforce the trend. Promise students had a second-year retention rate of 95.8%, slightly higher than the 94.9% recorded among peers from families earning under $120,000. Graduation rates and debt loads also looked more favourable, though the evidence was less conclusive.

The findings suggest that financial guarantees matter not only for who enrols, but for who stays. For a state worried about keeping its brightest students, the promise seems to be delivering.

The study surveyed 646 people in England and 1,501 in Japan—two ageing societies with shrinking workforces. Respondents were asked to approve or deny visas for migrants across a range of jobs, from doctors to telemarketers.

Demand matters

Support for high-skilled migrants hovered around 70% in both countries. For low-skilled workers, approval slipped to the mid-50s in England and low-60s in Japan. But when jobs were in high demand, support rose sharply: visa approval rates for low-skilled but much-needed workers edged ahead of those for high-skilled migrants in low-demand sectors. Care-home staff and farm labourers, it turns out, are more welcome than surplus office managers.

The pattern held across political leanings, education levels, and degrees of social trust. In England, occupation mattered far more than country of origin. Unsurprisingly, migrants near retirement age were least favoured.

The findings complicate the familiar narrative that skill level alone drives public attitudes towards immigration. Shortages matter. In countries grappling with demographic decline, demand may blunt resistance to inflows—provided migrants are seen as filling genuine gaps.

What are those benefits? For many, things like collaboration and other forms of human-to-human interaction have been cited as the key factors behind the return to office calls. Research from INSEAD explores whether simply being in the same physical space is sufficient to support these things. Indeed, it questions whether employees even know how much or how well they interact with colleagues.

Types of relationships

The researchers explain that most of the relationships we have at work are aptly described as acquaintances. They’re not our friends, but we engage with them sufficiently often to have forged a certain kind of relationship. While these may be thought of as weak ties, and therefore less important, they have actually been shown to power collaboration and innovation.

This power is because they give us access to ideas, knowledge, and networks that we might not ordinarily have. This has obvious benefits in a work context, especially as such ties don’t require as much time and effort to maintain as close relationships.

Such weak ties are characterized by more random encounters, such as the ubiquitous water cooler moments, where we unexpectedly bump into colleagues. They don’t tend to be relationships we actively seek out or block time for. The very nature of these unexpected encounters can make it hard for us to truly appreciate their value, or indeed, understand how often they occur.

The INSEAD research shows that we often fall into the trap of believing that these encounters are far more frequent than they actually are. It’s a finding that the researchers believe may undermine employers’ return-to-office mandates, as we believe interactions happen more often than they do.

Small world

It’s a phenomenon the researcher refers to as the “small world illusion”, which he explored via a number of experiments to better understand how accurate our perceptions of encounters with acquaintances actually are.

Participants were asked to name the acquaintances and close connections they had at work, before then estimating how often they saw them in a typical week. The results show that we consistently overestimate how often we see people we know at work, but, importantly, this is far more likely with acquaintances than it is with close connections.

The researcher then looked at the dynamics in the typical workplace. Volunteers were asked to list the colleagues they regularly interacted with. Each person was then categorized as either a stranger, an acquaintance, or a close friend, with the number of interactions per week with each person also included.

Lack of connections

Interestingly, people generally don’t have many close connections at work, and certainly significantly fewer than they do outside of work. As before, people also regularly saw their weak ties less frequently than they imagined they did.

Subsequent experiments suggest this could be due to the availability bias, which is when we assume something is more common when we can readily recall examples of it. In other words, when we think about encounters with colleagues, we’re more inclined to remember the times we did see them than we are the (more frequent) times we did not. This also meant that we’re more inclined to overestimate the likelihood of getting support from our colleagues.

The results provide a timely reminder that simply initiating a return-to-office mandate isn’t going to magically improve collaboration or company culture. Organizations need to be far more intentional than that if those ends are to be achieved. What’s more, without meaningful changes, those lacklustre returns will sit alongside the very real harm return-to-office mandates cause among a workforce that generally dislikes them.

What to do

What should organizations do to overcome this? The results clearly show that managers need to be intentional in terms of providing employees with opportunities to mingle, whether that’s through overt exercises that bring people together or the provision of more informal opportunities to engage with colleagues.

Culture is also going to play a big role, as employees need to feel comfortable in asking for help from others, while also being rewarded for giving it.

When we overestimate how often we interact with acquaintances, we can develop a false sense of security about the strength of those ties. This can result in a lack of effort made in sustaining those relationships. It’s a situation that’s compounded when both sides feel the same way, resulting in a gradual withering of the bond, even when both parties want to maintain it.

The importance of casual interactions and weak ties is well established, so it matters when they aren’t maintained. The INSEAD results highlight that while return-to-office mandates are designed to ensure this doesn’t happen, it’s a process that is unlikely to achieve those results unless managers take active steps to help people connect more effectively. If we leave it to chance, we may fail to achieve the gains that face-to-face working can bring while also baking in the harms that come from removing people’s autonomy over where they work.

The advice typically falls into either attention signals, which highlight the importance of an issue, without necessarily offering a recommendation, or an action signal, which does. Both are commonly used, but research from INSEAD explores which is the most effective and whether there are costs associated with relying on AI-driven advice too much.

Smart decisions

The researchers used chess as their Petri dish, with AI providing a range of recommendations to help players improve their game. The game was chosen because it’s easy to gauge whether decisions are high quality or not, and therefore, the quality of the recommendations can be measured.

They worked with around 300 players, ranging from amateurs to elites, with around 36 official chess master titles between them. The players competed under three conditions, with some receiving action-oriented signals, whereby the AI would show them the best move at certain parts of the game. Others received attention-oriented signals, with the AI highlighting key points in the game, but not providing next steps. The third, control group, received no help at all.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, action signals proved most effective in improving player’s performance. These gains were not without costs, however, with the performance of players declining after they received the help. They happily leaned on AI to support them, but struggled without its support once it was withdrawn.

Uncharted waters

It’s a process the researchers refer to as the “uncharted waters effect”, which describes how AI can be initially helpful but can fundamentally change our cognitive process in a way that makes us less well prepared for the future.

Interestingly, the attention-oriented support had the opposite effect. This support didn’t provide people with answers, but, instead prompted players to think for themselves. This resulted in better performance, albeit not to the same extent as with action-oriented support, but importantly, it also resulted in stronger performances in the future too.

It’s perhaps worth pointing out that both forms of advice improved performance more than not receiving any at all, which underlines the value AI can provide, albeit in the relatively narrow confines of chess. What’s important, however, is how the type of AI support affected how we think, both in the immediate period around the support being given and in the future.

Guiding decisions

With AI increasingly being deployed in a decision support capacity, the findings are a timely reminder that not all forms of deployment are going to have an equal impact.

At a time when so much focus is on the capabilities of AI itself, the results also remind us that its impact is often not based on the reliability and accuracy of the recommendations. The study clearly shows that AI support nearly always improves decision-making, but this boost isn’t always sustainable.

This matters as decisions are seldom once-and-done affairs. Indeed, even if we are using AI to help guide us, it’s important that we’re able to scrutinize what we’re presented with, and if using AI dulls our thought processes, we become less capable of working, even if we’re receiving AI support. This can be especially problematic when it comes to areas in which the AI isn’t capable, such as in rare cases for which the system doesn’t have reliable data.

Design matters

The researchers argue that this isn’t something confined to chess, and is just as applicable in a wide range of other domains. They highlight recruitment, for example, where participants were found to make the best decisions when AI made recommendations only during moments where they were uncertain or had made a mistake. In other words, it wasn’t offering constant guidance, but targeted support.

Similarly, studies have shown that the introduction of Hawk Eye into tennis officiating impacted how line judges behaved. While their accuracy generally improved, they also let borderline decisions slide for fear of being embarrassed in public. In other words, errors weren’t eradicated, they just moved to a different part of the process.

Similarly, a study from the University of Michigan found that an AI tool used to detect early signs of sepsis often flagged patients after clinicians had already suspected sepsis. In practice, some doctors delayed action while waiting for AI confirmation, slowing care instead of speeding it.

These studies remind us that while the AI companies talk heavily about the capability of the tech, the benefits rely far more on how the tech is designed and deployed than on its raw power. If the technology is poorly designed, we run the very real risk of over-reliance, under-scrutiny, or even outright rejection. If it’s designed well, however, then it’s capable of stepping in at the precise time we’d benefit from it the most, giving us a boost not only to our immediate performance but also our long-term capabilities.

The risk is that we build systems that deskill us, nudge us into passivity, or make us more risk-averse. The opportunity is to build systems that genuinely augment us, sharpening our judgment and helping us improve even when the AI isn’t there.

AI doesn’t just shape what decisions we make. It shapes how we think. If we want technology that makes us more capable, not less, the real frontier isn’t in model size or processing speed. It’s in design choices: when advice is given, how it’s framed, and whether it encourages us to lean in or switch off.

In a recent paper, they argue that the wholesale embrace of AI in academia is neither inevitable nor desirable. Much of the research on the technology, they note, is funded by the very firms that profit from it—raising the risk of conflicts of interest reminiscent of past industries that shaped science to their advantage.

More harm than good

The authors contend that the adoption of AI by universities often runs counter to the wishes of students and staff. Rather than welcoming machine learning into lecture halls and laboratories, many students want greater debate—and some would even favour outright bans on tools like ChatGPT. They bristle at the notion that reliance on such systems fosters laziness, pointing instead to their desire to strengthen critical faculties.

The risks, say the researchers, are manifold. AI systems consume prodigious amounts of energy, rely on ethically dubious labour practices and, more worryingly for universities, threaten to deskill students. A generation trained to outsource writing and analysis to machines may struggle to solve problems when those tools falter. That risks hollowing out the very skills higher education exists to cultivate.

Worse, universities may find themselves complicit in spreading misinformation. AI is already a prolific engine of falsehoods; its outputs, however fluent, fall well short of genuine scholarship. Yet the technology is marketed as both inevitable and indispensable—a narrative that the Radboud researchers urge universities to resist.

“Universities are not tech companies,” they conclude. “Our role is not to follow industry trends, but to foster critical thought.”

Familiar problems

The research highlights a familiar problem. Unwanted, automatic thoughts about unfinished tasks intrude into leisure time, souring evenings and even damaging health. To test whether redirecting attention could help, scholars ran three studies involving more than 1,200 people, including both full-time employees and part-time MBA students. Participants were asked to consider their non-work ambitions in the evenings and sketch plans to achieve them. Researchers then measured levels of rumination, exhaustion, and detachment from work.

For most respondents, the results were clear. The intervention curbed intrusive thoughts, boosted recovery, and enhanced psychological and social well-being. Workaholics, however, proved resistant. Their attachment to professional goals limited the benefits, suggesting they may require more intensive strategies to switch off.

The lesson for the majority is straightforward. Deliberately focusing on personal aspirations, rather than replaying unfinished office tasks, offers an accessible way to reclaim evenings. For firms fretting about burnout, nudging workers towards their private goals may be a small but effective step towards healthier, happier employees.

Australia admits refugees with disabilities, though data on their numbers remains sparse. A 2010 parliamentary inquiry recommended removing barriers to their settlement, leading to a rise in arrivals. Yet the intersection of disability and migration remains poorly studied, both in Australia and abroad.

To help fill that gap, researchers surveyed and interviewed 75 refugees with disabilities, most from Iraq, Syria, and Afghanistan, who had lived in Australia for just over four years on average. Their responses were compared with findings from earlier surveys of refugees more broadly.

A complex picture

The results point to a complex picture. Most refugees with disabilities reported feeling part of Australian society (72%) and described their settlement experience positively (65%). But these figures lagged behind those for refugees overall (87% and 83%, respectively). Integration beyond their own ethnic and religious communities proved particularly challenging. More than three-quarters said they struggled to make friends with Australians, to talk to neighbours, or to grasp local culture—far higher than the rates for refugees in general.

Social ties within their own communities provided some comfort. Over half said they received support from their national or ethnic peers, and nearly as many from religious groups—both markedly higher than for refugees more broadly. Yet difficulties in language learning and disability compounded isolation from wider society.

Barriers also loomed large in accessing government services. Many reported trouble with language, digital platforms such as MyGov and Medicare, and long waits for appointments. Even the National Disability Insurance Scheme, praised for its breadth of support, often proved hard to navigate. Some found the assistance on offer insufficient. Housing and English-language classes posed further problems.

Shared concerns

The study echoes concerns raised by the disability royal commission, which noted that policies designed to support either people with disabilities or those from culturally diverse backgrounds rarely overlap. A new strategy from the NDIS aims to improve access for migrants and refugees with disabilities between 2024 and 2028. Whether it will be implemented fully remains to be seen.

Australia has obligations under both domestic and international law to protect the rights of refugees and people with disabilities. Meeting those obligations, the researchers argue, will require policies that explicitly account for the intersecting challenges faced by those who belong to both groups.

The researchers interviewed planners, public-health officials, and regeneration specialists in Bradford and Tower Hamlets. They heard a common theme: councils want to provide good play spaces but lack the money, staff, and political backing to do so. Austerity, COVID, and Brexit have all taken their toll. Many experienced staff are retiring, with too few trained successors to replace them.

Clear value

The value of play is clear. Outdoor space pulls children away from screens, builds physical and mental skills, and helps parents forge community ties. Yet in planning debates, play space is often treated as a “nice to have.” Housing targets almost always win. Participants argued that national rules requiring developers to provide play space—as already exist in Scotland and Wales—would help redress the balance. A similar proposal in England was dropped before a vote.

The study also points to the knock-on benefits of good play areas. In deprived places, they can reduce obesity, strengthen families and even keep some children out of care. Yet current policy is piecemeal. One local “play charter” was described as little more than slogans.

The PUSH project, which led the study, calls for clearer rules, stronger evidence, and better training for planners. It also advocates bringing “forest school” principles into cities for children aged four to seven.

Compared with their parents, today’s children spend 50% less time playing outdoors. The researchers argue that this decline is not inevitable. With thoughtful planning—and by listening to children themselves—cities can provide safe, everyday spaces for play.