Ralph Fiennes in “28 Years Later: The Bone Temple”
Credit: Sony Pictures
After decades of anticipation, the sequel to Danny Boyle’s iconic virus-based horror film, 28 Days Later, has arrived. Titled 28 Years Later: Temple of Bones, this gripping narrative picks up almost immediately from the chilling conclusion of the previous installment. It introduces a perilous gang led by Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal (Jack O’Connell).
This time, the real menace emerges from the human characters, prominently featuring the “infected” portrayed by Samson (Chee Lewis-Parry). Ian Kelson, played by Ralph Fiennes (as shown above), finds himself forming an unexpected camaraderie with him.
As they gaze at the stars and enjoy music from Duran Duran, Kelson delves deeper into the virus’s mysteries and embarks on a quest to develop a cure. The story builds to a thrilling and intense finale.
Despite the dark themes, the film balances its grim narrative with moments of humor and humanity, enriching the horror landscape. Should this third installment, 28 Years Later, resonate with audiences, it has the potential to become a celebrated trilogy in cinematic history.
Since the mid-2000s, renowned electronic musician and visual artist Ryoji Ikeda has been reimagining vast datasets into immersive art installations that invite viewers into the hidden realms of science.
During my visit to his latest project, Data Cosm [n°1], I found myself surrounded by an array of sprawling LED screens pulsating with strobe lights. This exhibition, intent on “charting the myriad data of nature,” created an atmosphere that felt both familiar and exhilarating as I navigated through visuals of our planet, our minds, and the cosmos, all synchronized with glitchy soundscapes.
Ikeda’s innovative approach offers an exhilarating experience, reminiscent of virtually traversing a DNA strand at hyper-speed, serving as a visceral reminder of the vastness of the human genome. However, amidst the sensory overload, one can feel detached, raising important questions about our connection to the overwhelming data presented.
Don’t miss this captivating exhibition at 180 Studios in London, running until February 1st.
Peter Kyle’s Landmark Request for ChatGPT Logs Stuns Observers
In early 2025, I sent an email that I never expected would set a legal precedent for the UK government’s approach to AI chatbot interactions. However, that’s precisely what unfolded.
It all began in January when I came across an interview with Peter Kyle, then UK Technology Secretary. In the interview with Politics Home, Kyle disclosed that he frequently converses with ChatGPT, hinting that he actively engages with the technology his department is responsible for regulating.
This revelation piqued my curiosity. Could I obtain his chat history? Freedom of Information (FOI) laws are typically used to request emails and documents from public authorities, yet past court rulings suggest that certain personal data, like search queries, are not released under these laws. I was particularly interested in how chatbot conversations are classified.
Ultimately, the answer leaned towards the former. Most of Kyle’s interactions with ChatGPT were deemed private and exempt from FOI regulations. However, interactions that occurred in an official capacity were subject to disclosure.
In March, the Department of Science, Industry, and Technology (DSIT) provided several conversations between Kyle and the chatbot. This revelation formed the basis of an exclusive article detailing his exchanges.
The publication of these chat logs took data protection and FOI experts by surprise. “I’m astonished you obtained them,” remarked Tim Turner, a Manchester-based data protection expert. Others were simply left speechless.
When this article was released, we emphasized that this represented a world first, capturing global attention around the accessibility of AI chatbot conversations.
International researchers from countries like Canada and Australia reached out to me for advice on how to file similar requests with their government ministers. For example, subsequent FOI requests in April revealed that Ferrill Clarke, the then UK Artificial Intelligence Secretary, had never used ChatGPT in an official capacity, despite promoting its advantages. However, many inquiries were met with denials as governments increasingly cited legal exceptions to FOI.
I observed a noticeable shift in the UK government’s approach to FOI, especially regarding AI utilization. In a subsequent request for DSIT’s internal responses to this article—comprising emails and Microsoft Teams messages—my FOI application was denied, citing the process as laborious and time-consuming.
Despite considering asking the government to utilize ChatGPT for summarizing the relevant information, I ultimately chose not to pursue it.
This release was pivotal as governments swiftly adapt to AI technologies. The UK government has acknowledged that civil servants use tools such as ChatGPT in their daily operations, claiming that this adoption can save up to two weeks annually due to enhanced efficiency. However, it’s critical to note that AI does not always deliver impartial summaries and can produce inaccuracies or “hallucinations.” Thus, transparency in how these technologies are employed is essential for accountability, whether the implications are positive or negative.
Topic: Politics / 2025 News Review
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New Year’s Eve will be celebrated in a virtual utopia as “Every Version of You” begins
Akin Bostansi/Getty
The sky this evening is utterly dismal, with vibrant blues merging into streaks resembling turbulent sea water on the horizon, the sun setting against its distorted reflections. The tide rhythmically rolls onto the shore—1, 2, 3 splashes of sand. 1, 2, 3, 4—leaving bubbles in its wake.
Tao Yi sits cross-legged, toying with a nearly empty beer bottle. Long shadows stretch from the sandstone cliffs surrounding her. In this hidden cove, shielded by crimson-hued cliffs, the others remain unseen but their laughter and chatter resonating as they gather driftwood for a bonfire.
She reluctantly allowed Navin to convince her to come here—a mix of obligation and familiarity. This routine unfolds every New Year’s Eve: Zack hosts a party, and missing it would feel wrong.
The bottle feels chillingly cold against her hand, unaffected by her warmth. She brings it to her lips, the last sip burning her throat. The sea’s surface is rippled and opaque, resembling a silken dress blowing in the wind. Awaiting a gust to tousle her hair, she finds only stillness; Gaia’s air isn’t stagnant like a subway tunnel.
The sound of grass rustling in the sand indicates Navin’s approach. He seems almost a stranger now—tall and lean in a short-sleeved shirt and khaki pants, with a messy fringe cascading across his forehead, flashing a charming smile. He extends a fresh beer bottle toward her.
“It tastes awful,” she replies, shaking her head. “Though better than last year.”
She manages a grin, recalling Zack’s experimental brew.
“Come back,” he urges, fingers brushing her hairline. “Help me with the fire.”
Tao Yi lets him assist her to stand. She follows him out of the cove and along the shoreline, carefully sidestepping the rocky formations. His shirt hangs loosely, catching on the edges of his shoulder blades. She longs to touch that downward curve, to confirm it’s real.
Others are filling shallow pits between the dunes and the ocean with driftwood. A dozen or so well-educated twenty-somethings like her and Navin, all lively and engaged in clever banter. They belong to a fortunate generation—born into movement, brimming with opportunities, navigating waves of transformation.
Zack glides effortlessly through the group, drawing others to him like moths to a flame. He appears particularly youthful in his orange shirt and sarong. Leaning over the driftwood, he holds a lit match between his long fingers, like a conductor with a baton. Joyous cries erupt as the flames ignite. If you follow the method, a second attempt won’t be necessary.
Tao Yi activates the live interface. A neon countdown in her peripheral vision reads: December 31, 2087, 9 p.m. Just 3 hours to go! A steady stream of status updates overlays the beach scene, mostly brief four-second video snippets that vanish as soon as she focuses on them. Friends dancing at an open-air concert, racing go-karts beneath digital fireworks, and the exhilarating sound of Stimshots pulsating through a heavy beat.
Evelyn approaches. Tao Yi closes the countdown and snippets. Tonight, her petite friend appears slightly transformed. Clad in a pastel dress typical of her, her dark hair woven into a braid adorned with gothic decals on her cheeks. It’s charming, like a puppy striving for attention.
Evelyn nudges her hip against Tao Yi’s waist. “Flash?” “I’m alright. Why?”
“You seem a bit distant.”
Tao Yi wraps her hand around her elbow, feeling the symmetrical dip behind the joint. “Yeah, just taking a breather. It’s been an eventful day at work.”
“Oh, right. You’re the featured authenticity consultant now,” Evelyn chuckles, elongating the syllables.
Even after six months in this role, the title still sounds peculiar to Tao Yi. She aims to transition from marketing strategies driving consumerism to organizations like True You that steer lost souls towards their genuine selves.
“People are infatuated with their avatars. They want to ensure they’re as distinctive as everyone else.”
“Come on, Tao Yi, don’t play the cynic. I know you’re kind at heart,” Evelyn teases. “Just wait a few more months, and you’ll be spreading the mantra that’ll have you feeling as good as your boss. What’s his name again? Andy? Gary?”
“Griffin. Not even close.”
“That’s it! You know what he told me at the party you took me to last month? With his wide eyes and serious expression: ‘You need to find your own path.’”
“Oh, yeah. He repeats that daily. It’s just my brain filtering him out right now.”
“I told him I was using Google Maps. He didn’t even crack a smile.”
Tao Yi chuckles. “But he’s effective at his job. Want to set up an appointment?”
“No thanks – you all should steer clear of my virtual stuff.”
Tao Yi laughs again, then turns her gaze toward the fire. Evelyn’s attention lingers on Zack. The bonfire’s glow warms his tanned skin, illuminating his sparkling dark eyes and expressive mouth.
For a moment, Tao Yi observes Evelyn fixated on him. Then she soon slips away.
every version of you Written by Grace Chan (Verve Books) is the New Scientist Book Club’s November 2025 read. Sign up to read together here.
The New Scientist Book Club took a departure from science fiction in October, focusing instead on the winners of the Royal Society Trivedi Science Book Prize. This timely announcement aligned perfectly with our next literary venture.
Among the award nominees were six works by Daniel Levitin, including music as medicine and Vanished: The History of Unnatural Extinction. The jury ultimately selected Masud Hussain’s Our Brains, Ourselves: What a Neurologist’s Patients Tell Us About the Brain. They praised the book as a “poetic exploration of how neurological conditions affect one’s identity,” noting that Hussain cleverly weaves his immigrant experience in 1960s Britain into his medical narratives.
It’s worth mentioning that our book club members tend to be more critical than the Royal Society judges. While there was enthusiasm for exploring non-fiction, several issues emerged throughout our discussions.
Starting with the positives, many of us found the later chapters, where Hussain contemplates the concept of self, particularly thought-provoking regarding the historical evolution of identity and how various brain conditions influence a patient’s self-perception.
Katherine Sarah echoed this sentiment, remarking, “This offers an engaging insight into brain function and the essence of ‘self,’ along with the crucial social skills that enable our integration into society.” Her perspective resonates with those in our Facebook group. As someone who relocated to a new country without knowing the local language, she felt particularly connected to the text.
She reflected, “It struck me how language is integral to our identity, and the challenges of expressing ourselves without it can be profound,” noting parallels to a patient in the book with suppressed motivation due to language barriers. “I, too, felt shy and hesitant when I couldn’t communicate effectively.” She found it fascinating to read about patients with selective cognitive impairments, emphasizing how interconnected our mental faculties truly are.
Gosia Furmanik also appreciated this exploration of identity and migration. “Overall, I enjoyed the book’s engaging style and insightful examples. The reflections on identity toward the end really resonated with me, especially as someone who has migrated multiple times,” she noted.
Judith Lazell enjoyed the humor and readability of the text, calling it a “fantastic choice.” Jennifer Marano valued the chapter about Wahid, a bus driver with Lewy body dementia who begins experiencing hallucinations. “This shifted my understanding of perception and hallucinations,” she remarked. “The world feels solid, but it’s amazing to think that our brains construct the visual stimuli we perceive. I wonder what others might be experiencing.”
When I spoke with Hussain, I was curious about his narrative approach, especially moments that felt a bit contrived. For instance, when he notices a monument to Samuel Johnson while thinking about a patient: “That irony made me smile,” he said, as he connects the great lexicographer with a patient struggling with word recall, diving into a lengthy discussion about lexicography.
Hussain explained he felt it necessary to fictionalize some scenarios to protect patient identities, a technique that makes narrative sense. However, I found some instances a bit forced.
Niall Leighton shared similar criticisms, focusing on the perceived stiffness in Hussain’s patient interactions. “I couldn’t help but think these encounters seemed overly scripted, which became increasingly frustrating,” he noted.
Gosia expressed relief that she wasn’t alone in feeling these aspects detracted from the narrative. She pointed out that Hussain’s admission in interviews about substantial fictionalization might explain some discrepancies. “Perhaps a significant amount was imagined,” she suggested.
Some members expressed irritation with Hussain’s ornate language at times. Jennifer commented, “It felt as if he was attempting to craft a ‘great British novel’ with descriptions ill-fitting for a science book.”
Judith and Niall found Hussain’s habit of defining terms like “vertebrate (animal with a backbone)” redundant. “Everyone reading this book likely understands these concepts,” Judith remarked.
Niall added, “It feels patronizing to repeatedly define terms like ‘atrophy’ and ‘neuron.’ It made me question who the author perceived his audience to be.”
This raises a valid dilemma. While our book club consists of well-informed readers, balancing helpfulness with potential condescension is a challenging line to navigate.
A significant concern for some members was Hussain’s use of the term “normal” in relation to brain function. For instance, he mentioned a patient’s behavior, stating, “Like any normal person, he began to take risks.”
Gosia expressed frustration with phrases labeling healthy individuals as “normal,” questioning, “Who determines what ‘normal’ is? It’s crucial to recognize that illness is also a standard part of our human experience. For a book steeped in philosophy, this viewpoint seemed surprisingly simplistic.”
Niall voiced similar sentiments, stating, “As a neurodivergent individual, the label ‘normal’ irks me. The ambiguity surrounding it is quite bothersome,” he said.
Jennifer, despite her critical views on Our Brains, Ourselves, mentioned she felt more understanding after watching an interview with Hussain in New Scientist magazine. “While some aspects were challenging, I have to commend him for his dedication to his work and the effort it took to bring this book to fruition,” she reflected. “I can appreciate that passion, given I’ve never written nor published a book myself.”
Never say never, Jennifer! Perhaps one day, we’ll see your book featured in the New Scientist Book Club! For now, I’m excited to dive into another read in November that examines the intricacies of the brain through the lens of science fiction. Join us for Grace Chan’s Every Version of You, set in a ravaged world where humanity has migrated to a digital utopia in search of solace from a dying Earth. How do these virtual minds contrast with what remains of our physical selves?
New Scientist Book Club just read Ursula K. Le Guin’s novel The Dispossessed
Gollancz; Benjamin Brink/Oregonian/AP/Alamy
Alex Foster’s reading experience, after shifting our perspectives in a circular motion, led the New Scientist Book Club into two contrasting worlds in Ursula K. Le Guin’s novel The Dispossessed. This authentic sci-fi classic from 1974 oscillates between two timelines. One follows physicist Chebek as he departs from the barren moon Anar to study at the university on Uras, a more prosperous planet, while he simultaneously grows within the anarchist society of Anar.
I first encountered The Dispossessed during my second year of university. At that time, I was captivated by the novel’s structure and the anarchist principles shaping Chebek’s hometown. After all, what better time to dive into radical fiction than as a budding student? On this subsequent reading, however, I found myself more attuned to the human aspects of the narrative. I now have a deeper understanding of Chebek’s character, albeit one I didn’t always sympathize with.
Many club members expressed excitement when we announced The Dispossessed as our next reading. “This is my favorite Le Guin book, though it’s truly hard to choose,” remarked Kelly Jensen. In Rachel Hand’s corners of reading on our Facebook Group, it had been a long-awaited selection for some. For others, it marked their first encounter with Le Guin’s work. New Scientist describes it as a “dive into the deep end.”
Despite its daunting reputation, some readers relished how The Dispossessed brims with concepts surrounding politics, physics, and language. “It’s absolutely spectacular that Le Guin tackles physics on the ‘time’ side of the space-time continuum,” said Laura Akers. Elizabeth Drummond Young appreciated the exploration of “sudden engagement,” examining linguistic and behavioral references, such as how individuals name themselves, paralleling notions introduced by Einstein in the novel.
However, a consensus emerged: few would wish to inhabit Anar, despite its egalitarian ideals. As Laura noted, “They can’t genuinely evaluate life as we do on Earth.” They hold a profound awareness of their ecosystems, yet remain focused on their operational realities.
Gosia Furmanik expressed ambivalence: “On one hand, it’s tremendous that there’s no exploitation, and they can, in principle, do as they please.
This notion came up during a conversation with Marcus Gipps, editor at Le Guin’s publisher, Gollancz. “Everything really comes down to perspective,” he told me. “I’m fascinated to learn about East Germany’s depiction prior to its fall in relation to this book, and I will continue to explore this!”
Perhaps the most contentious aspect of the novel is its portrayal of women. Some readers found the book’s gender ratios frustratingly outdated, feeling that our views of Anar and Uras are filtered through a biased human lens. “I perceived the book’s viewpoint as an internalized bias from the author, which is perhaps expected given its time of writing,” Gothia remarked. “The portrayal of relationships, such as Chebek’s interactions in the planting camp, presents a significant distortion of cis-heteromonogamy—despite the absence of marriage!”
Conversely, others interpreted the novel’s gender politics as more deliberate. “Le Guin aimed to provoke thought about the status of women within Anar’s framework,” Neil Leighton stated. “I don’t agree that we should assume she’s advocating a particular vision of utopia based on the characteristics of Anar’s society.”
With so many intricate ideas woven throughout, it’s no surprise not everyone found the book easy to digest. Phil Gurski had to stop reading around 160 pages in due to confusion, while Steve Swan remarked on needing patience during the initial chapters. Judith Lazelle echoed this sentiment.
I resonate with Phil, Steve, and Judith’s experiences. There are indeed peculiar moments where the book overwhelms with ideas. However, “Ursula Le Guin is an absolute literary master, and I’m a tremendous admirer. I understand why this work has garnered so many accolades.” Yet, I question whether the extensive philosophical deliberations detract from the narrative itself—though as usual, the maestro concludes in a deeply satisfying fashion.”
Fortunately, many members of the book club genuinely enjoyed The Dispossessed. “I adored this book,” exclaimed Neal. “I read it as a teenager and believe it to be one of the most influential texts in my thinking.” Rachel shared, “The ending was my favorite part,” while Terry James found the final 50 pages to be a “fantastic imaginative ride.”
We are now transitioning from a fantastical science fiction realm to the intricate world of neuroscience with our next book club selection: an award-winning nonfiction work. We are thrilled to explore the winners of this year’s Royal Society Trivedi Science Book Award, Our Brains, Ourselves by neuroscientist and clinician Mazood Hussain. Through seven captivating case studies, Hussain illustrates how various neurological conditions impact identity and belonging. This book is sure to engage fans of Oliver Sacks, as Grace Wade termed it “engaging and informative” earlier this February for those eager to delve into neuroscience.
You can find excerpts from this book as well. Additionally, Sandra Knapp, a plant taxonomist at the Museum of Natural History in London and head of the Jury Committee, offers unique insights into the award selection process. She shares what makes Our Brains, Ourselves stand out among other exceptional entries and highlights learnings from this “incredibly compassionate” work. Share your thoughts with us in our Facebook Group, and let us know if you’re excited for our next read.
New Scientist Book Club discusses Alex Foster’s Circular Motion
The New Scientist Book Club has taken a turn by revisiting Alex Foster’s Circular Motion, moving from Adam Roberts’ futuristic Lake of Darkness, set thousands of years ahead in a world eerily similar to ours. However, a significant distinction exists; Foster’s universe is dominated by massive aircraft that can traverse the globe in mere hours. This “westerly circuit” not only facilitates rapid travel for the wealthy but also speeds up the Earth’s rotation as the narrative unfolds, especially evident by the conclusion where just two hours have profound implications.
As I mentioned, this book left a strong impression on me. It ticked all my boxes for science fiction: an impending apocalyptic event of nightmarish scale? Absolutely. A society desperately trying to maintain a facade of normalcy? Definitely. A cast of engaging and relatable characters? Yes, indeed. From a science fiction standpoint, it has become my favorite (new) read thus far. I ponder whether it leaned more towards grand physical phenomena (storms, gravity shifts) or more intimate experiences (the psychological burden of merely two hours in this world).
Yet, I found myself at odds with my two-sentence summary. (And isn’t that the charm of a book club, where different interpretations bloom?) While I relish a good dystopia, Neil Leighton found Foster’s grim portrayal of life on Earth a bit overwhelming. “I appreciated it and am glad I read it, but it was overly dystopian, and I’m not likely to recommend it as a gift,” he shared in our Facebook group. “I will say it is solid literary science fiction, but I struggled to suspend my disbelief, and it felt somewhat forced at times. It struck a decent balance between character work and ideas, yet was too dystopian for my palate.”
I wasn’t the only one grappling with the narrative. “I typically have no issues with suspending disbelief, but Circular Motion challenged that,” Jennifer Marano admitted. “Furthermore, the dystopian elements felt too oppressive for Gothia Fulmanik. The narrative felt uncomfortably close to home.”
I am thankful that Gosia highlighted the theme of climate change in this context. Video Interview The book is intended to draw parallels to our current reality. Instead of halting aircraft operations, the protagonists resort to constructing a colossal, vacant “shell” as a technological solution to the very issues they created within the Western Circuit. Many of you witnessed Foster’s characters facing calamities that resonate with our daily existence. “The theme of hubris (attempting to build shields to rectify issues with pods, circuits, gravity, and time) was a poignant and overt lesson,” Steve Swann remarked. It became a discussion point where we all tried to align the world correctly, only to end up exclaiming, “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it.”
For Niall, “as someone concerned about climate change, it serves as a more profound cautionary tale, replete with wise critiques of ineffective technical fixes.”
One aspect that perplexed me was Foster’s dating system, presented as “AH 976,314:17.” Many of you shared the same confusion. Eliza Rose echoed my thoughts, stating, “I didn’t grasp it, nor did I attempt to. I just read along, assuming it wasn’t crucial to the plot.” Phil added, “I would have liked an explanation of the new AH time-measurement system and its introduction.” Thankfully, Paul Jonas provided clarity: “It translates to hundreds of thousands of hours, consistent globally. 970,000 corresponds to 11 years, but good luck wrapping your head around it unless you reset.”
Members of the New Scientist Book Club expressed a desire for more substantial science within this science fiction work. “I felt that the scientific elements were secondary to the characters’ narratives,” articulated one member. “What I longed for was speculation on how an accelerating Earth impacts non-human life forms. This would have significant repercussions for flora and fauna. Gosia, too, expressed a wish for Foster to delve into the experiences of less privileged communities amid the apocalypse (especially considering how climate change disproportionately affects the Global South).
“I craved deeper insights into the systems responsible for the escalating issues surrounding time and travel. For me, it fell short of being authentically science fiction,” Paul remarked.
We aspire that our next reading fulfills those expectations: it is one of the most lauded science fiction novels in history—the award-winning anarchist utopian work by Ursula K. Le Guin, The Dispossessed, released long before 1974. We haven’t tackled classics in a while. Le Guin has been recommended by several of you as the next author, so I’m enthusiastically on board! Book Club members can also enjoy essays from Theo Downs Le Guin, the son of the late Le Guin, who offers unique insights as both a son and a reader (which is fantastic). Join us on our Facebook group for a discussion about this timeless classic and share your thoughts.
New Scientist Book Club has just read Adam Roberts’ Lake in the Dark
Laurie photos
Following the journey through Khalian Bradley’s *Time Saving*, the New Scientist Book Club ventured in the opposite direction for our latest read: the far future and some hard science fiction with Adam Roberts’ *Lake of Darkness*. Set in a seemingly utopian society, the narrative revolves around two spacecraft orbiting a black hole, and one captain receiving orders to kill all crew members as commanded by a voice from the depths of that black hole. Not quite utopia, but rather a chilling twist from Roberts’s protagonist, Saccadest in the century, as we delve deeper into this mystical entity.
The reception among our readers is varied; some found it thoroughly enjoyable while others felt its pacing was sluggish. Personally, I resonate with Paul Jonas, a member of the New Scientist Book Club. He shared on Facebook that he was “fascinated by the story” and “appreciated the hard science components relating to space travel, black holes, and utopian societies.” Paul’s insights into the philosophical elements tied to Deleuze’s thinking in this novel truly impress me.
I tend to be quite discerning when it comes to fiction, and rarely find books claiming to be humorous truly engaging (Terry Pratchett being the joyous exception). However, *Lake of Darkness* was different; I found myself intrigued at various moments, particularly appreciating how Roberts’ distant characters grappled with our own history while deciphering what they termed “so-called” *More’s Code*, the ancient system of long and short pulses each symbolizing a single glyph, alluding to the famous Beatles tune, *We All Live in a Yellow Submarine*.
Like Paul, I was captivated by the book’s portrayal of a future utopian society and the dilemmas it presents. During our discussion, Roberts expressed his intention to explore various subgenres of science fiction within his writing. While this perspective on utopia unfolds with its antagonist (spoiler alert – Satan), the idealized vision isn’t as appealing, given that all labor is assigned to “smart machines,” leaving people devoid of functionality. Time becomes filled with hobbies and fandoms, captured in the phrase, “Your people understand the value of everything but the cost. Without a cost, nothing holds worth. The best carries a significant price.” I found it quite delightful to navigate (and read) while contemplating this future society.
Charlotte Sye, another Book Club member, enjoyed listening to the audiobook and shared her enthusiasm: “I love the humor and hard science.” She added, “Life inside a black hole is particularly fascinating, as one character mentions, while there’s tremendous energy, is there really space and time?!”
Barbara Howe, however, had her reservations. She acknowledged the book’s “historical misconceptions” and “utopian critiques,” but felt that the depicted utopia was overly centered on trivial sexual themes, reflecting a male-centric viewpoint, neglecting notions like child-rearing or nurturing that are essential to true progress.
Barbara also pointed out a sentiment echoed by several other readers: she appreciated reading *Lake of Darkness* as an e-book, stating, “I had to look up more words in this single book than in my previous reads.” Alain Pellett echoed this, finding the vocabulary somewhat challenging and “offensive.” Jess Brady shared similar thoughts, enjoying the concept while criticizing the “slow prose.”
While such critiques weren’t particularly noticeable for me—possibly due to my willingness to overlook certain aspects—I did sympathize with Barbara’s assessment regarding the physics: “I tackle explanations of time travel alongside FTL (faster-than-light) travel. I accept these premises; they provide a thin veil of scientific reality over a fantastical plot device.”
Another prevalent criticism among readers was the lack of relatable characters. Alan expressed frustration, noting, “No one seemed sympathetic; their deaths evoked no remorse. They were all insufferable and dim-witted.” Karen Shees concurred, saying, “While the book initially caught my interest, I found the characters so unengaging that I wasn’t invested in their fate.”
I share this sentiment to some extent. Many characters were glaringly absurd, including guunarsonsdottir—distracting. Yet, I believe this serves a purpose, as I relished witnessing the turmoil of these intellectually lazy individuals as they navigated actual threats—through the seemingly redundant formation of another committee discussing their next steps. Moreover, I’m intrigued by the character Bartle Wasp; even the name piques curiosity.
Paul likely feels similarly. “Saccade was a compelling character. Living in a utopia surrounded by AI shapes her perspective. There’s no obligation to fully connect with every character; following their journey can be engaging even if they’re not traditional heroes.”
After finishing *Lake of Darkness*, I found numerous substantial concepts lingering in my thoughts. Did the black hole narrative hold coherence? Was the conclusion truly comprehensible? I’m still pondering—much like Barbara, who concluded that the novel “took unexpected turns and provoked thought.”
“In the latter part, I felt transported back to the 1980s,” she remarked, referencing Douglas Hofstadter’s *Godel, Escher, Bach: Eternal Golden Braid*. “It was a brief throwback, but the ending confuses me. Why did Joins act as she did? Did the entity achieve its desires?”
Paul similarly found the conclusion perplexing. “The ending likely bewildered many due to the complexities of black hole physics,” he noted. “Additionally, the geometric concepts about the inside/outside of infinite structures were truly mind-bending.”
However, let’s shift from the complexities of black holes to the anticipation for our next read. We’ll be diving into Circular Motion by Alex Foster. This captivating debut envisions a gradual acceleration of Earth’s spin, with increasingly disastrous consequences. I’m excited to share it and can’t wait to hear your thoughts! You can preview excerpts here. The narrative examines how this accelerated state might be humanity’s doing. I’ll be discussing the novel with him later this month, so feel free to drop any questions you have in our Facebook group.
Kaliane Bradley’s The Ministry of Time awarded mixed reviews at the New Scientist Book Club
One of the wonderful elements of science fiction is its vastness, a notion emphasized by our two recent readings. The New Scientist Book Club has transitioned from Larry Niven’s classic hard sci-fi piece, Ring World, to Kalian Bradley’s Time Saving, which we’ll delve into this June. The former rigorously engages with scientific principles, while the latter takes a more relaxed approach.
The narrative revolves around an obscure civil servant tasked with assisting historical figures—specifically, the Victorian explorer Commander Graham Gore from 1847. Time Saving intertwines elements of thrillers, romance, and touches of climate fiction, making it an engaging read. Although I adored it, the conclusion left something to be desired, which I’ll elaborate on later. For now, let’s explore the sci-fi elements of the book.
In Bradley’s interpretation, time travel serves as a plot device; it facilitates the transition of characters from the past to contemporary settings. As she notes, “Once you start contemplating the physics of time travel, you’ve entered a tricky realm.” I don’t necessarily view her reluctance to clarify time travel as a weakness—after all, even our greatest physicists have yet to fully understand it, a sentiment shared by many.
“I accepted time travel as a given and shaped the primary plot around it. In the end, it’s approached similarly to numerous other sci-fi narratives.” Facebook Group. “Ultimately, this emphasis on plot and character development made me feel that the novel transcended mere science fiction, transforming into a story set against a sci-fi backdrop.”
Pauline Moncrief, who previously engaged with Time Saving, praised Bradley’s portrayal of time travel as “spot-on” due to its exploration of the paradoxes surrounding it—questions like, “What happens if you travel back and eliminate your grandfather?” This intriguing concern worked well. “Thus, I appreciated the author’s decision to smoothly bypass the technical hurdles typically associated with time travel,” she remarked.
Kristen Millard Shore expressed similar sentiments: “I appreciated the author’s casual handling of time travel—’Let’s not overthink this’ was refreshing.” However, Gosia Furmanik felt differently. While she enjoyed the prose’s creativity and vividness, she found the main plot confusing and felt it lacked urgency until the very end. For someone looking for a focused sci-fi exploration, she wondered if the romance and themes of immigration and identity overshadowed the genre elements.
Gosia might have a point, but I found the romance to be a highlight of the novel, even developing an affection for Commander Gore (which Bradley seemed to share—check out my interview with her for more on this historical crush). As a fan of romantic narratives, I found this aspect delightful. Others echoed my feelings, too.
“I usually don’t gravitate towards romance in books, but I found it well-executed here. Nevertheless, I felt the story encompassed more than just romance; it was enriching overall.”
Phil Gurski, however, took a different stance: “While I enjoyed the concept, it leaned more toward romance than sci-fi,” he noted. “The lengthy sex scene felt unnecessary.” Despite this divergence of opinions, I cherished many aspects of Time Saving, particularly Bradley’s subtle yet brilliant humor. The contrast of a character from the 19th century grappling with modernity—whether it’s Spotify or dishwashers—provided a delightful layer to the storytelling.
“I found myself laughing aloud numerous times,” Kristen concurred. “Especially during the conversations among the female characters about chicken wallets!” The chicken wallet scene was memorable and the interactions among the characters stood out. I found myself smitten, much like Margaret Kemble and Graham Gore did in 1665.
Gosia nodded in agreement regarding the humor: “Initial moments were quite amusing, like the EastEnders reference, but at times, that tone was overshadowed, leading to inconsistencies that detracted from my enjoyment.”
Now, let’s discuss the ending. Provision. Spoiler alert for those who haven’t finished yet! The revelation that Adela was a future version of our narrator caught me off guard, adding an engaging twist that prompted me to revisit earlier elements of the story with this new perspective. I believed these elements held up, though the rapid pace towards the conclusion felt a bit jumbled, especially since I was invested in the romance. I recognize the inherent “time travel” aspect of the story, but I still hoped for more closure.
David Jones echoed my feelings: “I finished and felt disappointed. I loved the characters and believed they deserved a more satisfying ending.” Alan pondered, “Does the author’s craftsmanship with engaging, thoughtful narratives get compromised by editorial constraints?” He felt the conclusion appeared forced and disconnected from the author’s original vision.
“By the 80% mark, I was questioning, ‘Where is this going?’ The narrative seemed too precious until the end, without sufficient payoff.”
Phil shared his thoughts in a Facebook group, stating that the next session’s readings should return to genuine science (fiction), with Lake of Darkness—a paper edition exploring black holes and their mysterious signals—on the horizon. Adam has penned brilliantly insightful essays for our readers, while Emily H. Wilson, a reviewer for New Scientist, expressed her fondness for Lake of Darkness upon its hardcover release, calling it “smart, experimental, and full of imaginative ideas,” eagerly anticipating the journey into an advanced future.
Yurok Tribal member and biologist working with engineers to set up a fish trap on a tributary of the Klamath River in California
Vivian Wan
The essence of this image lies in restoring the traditional way of life, captured by Vivienne Wang, whose work is part of the series that earned the New Scientist Editor’s Award at the Earth Photo 2025 Competition.
The photograph illustrates the Yurok community collaborating with biologists and engineers to install a rotary screw trap on the Trinity River, a key tributary of the Klamath River in Willow Creek, California. The team employs fish traps to assess the health of the salmon and examine their migration behaviors.
The Klamath Basin is central to Yurok existence, holding significant cultural and spiritual importance through its rich waters that support Chinook salmon (Oncorhynchus tshawytscha). However, 19th-century colonization displaced the Yurok tribe and depleted local resources through mining, logging, and damming efforts.
Climate change and diverted river flows have severely affected salmon populations. A new irrigation policy in 2002 resulted in the deaths of tens of thousands of Chinook salmon in the Klamath River, adding urgency to the decades-long initiative to remove river dams. Notably, the last dam on this river was demolished last year.
For Wang, the mission was to illuminate how Indigenous communities could lead the charge for environmental justice. “We aspire for viewers to gain respect for the resilience, culture, and ongoing struggle of the Yurok people as they work to safeguard the Klamath Basin,” she remarks.
In the image below, Yurok Fisheries technician Hunter Mattz examines monitors that reveal enlarged salmon scales, gathering valuable insights into mortality factors sourced from fishing and natural causes. This information is crucial for determining sustainable catch limits and spawning goals, as well as assessing run sizes, which indicate the number of salmon entering a river or stream within a specific timeframe.
Mattz, a third-year Yurok fishery technician, inspects a monitor showing a magnified salmon scale
Vivian Wan
In this scene, Mattz holds a slender tag on a needle, contributing critical data to the fish monitoring research program.
Mattz displays a small fish tag providing essential data to fish monitoring initiatives
Vivian Wan
Mattz also manages the Net Harvest Project, which entails traversing over 70km from the Pacific Ocean to the estuary’s mouth and into the heart of the Klamath Basin, including stretches beyond Blue Creeks in California. Collecting data on fish species caught by local residents through nets has been pivotal in securing funding for conservation efforts in the Klamath region.
Hunter Mattz’ portrait, who is also collecting data on fish species caught by local residents
Vivian Wan
All winners of the Earth Photography Competition were chosen by a panel including New Scientist photo editor Tim Bodhuis and David Stock, director of editorial videos. Before touring the UK, make sure to visit the Earth Photo 2025 exhibition at London’s Royal Geographical Society until August 20th.
Hero Ideas Dengue fever boy Mosquitoes would have appeared in 2020 during the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic, when a dengue outbreak exploded in my hometown of Buenos Aires. Dengue fever spreads all the way Aedes aegypti mosquito. This insect thrives in tropical and subtropical climates and is commonly found in many warm and humid regions of Northern Argentina.
However, in recent decades, global warming has spread to traditionally cold, yet mild climates, such as Buenos Aires and Patagonia. One of my best friends had dengue fever in 2020, but as all media attention was focused on Covid-19, the city’s public hospitals had limited testing and there was no way to get proper diagnosis or treatment. Furthermore, there were no effective vaccines or medications for dengue at the time.
During this unsettling time for my friends and people with dengue in Argentina, US company Modern announced its vaccine against Covid-19 just a few days after the genetic sequence of SARS-COV-2 was issued. This has made me think about the terrible corporate bias in scientific research, as mosquito-borne diseases (dengue, zika, chikungunya, yellow fever, etc.) have killed hundreds of thousands of people over the centuries. In fact, mosquitoes are considered the deadliest animals for humans, according to historians. Timothy Wine Guardkilled more people than anything else in history.
However, these diseases affect people in low-income countries, so there was not enough investment in vaccines or treatments. Meanwhile, biotech companies only needed a few months to develop, patent and sell products that tackle Covid-19.
So, this idea came to me to tell the story of the global Southern pandemic through the lens of the mosquito itself.
Partly inspired by the artists I admire (Franz Kafka, David Cronenberg, Hidosi Hino), I leaned a bit ironically on Latin America’s most commercially popular genre, and I was convinced that the imaginary subtitles of my story should be “the self-capacity of a mosquito.” At the same time, one of the themes of my writing was inhumanity, and I was interested in the challenge of making insects the protagonist of a novel (a genre historically designed to tell the human age, psychology, and stories). How can we achieve this by mimicking and empathy with the human experience, especially insects that are as annoying as mosquitoes?
I became a mosquito and had to adopt that perspective. I have given the famous Frobertian motto.”Madame Bobbery, C’est Moi” And I changed it to my own: Le Moustite, c’est moi.
Ursula K. Le Gin once said The basic property of science fiction is to act as a carrier bag allowing for the transition of ideas from fiction to other scientific and technical discourses. This way, this genre becomes a mutational transition ( Dengue fever boy Between literature and non-literary knowledge.
I’ve always been very grateful for this idea. Because nothing in my work as a writer would please me more than studying topics I had never noticed before.
For this book, I consulted dozens of papers and manuals on entomology, and I became a “mosquito” overnight. It was important to know the details of mosquito anatomy, explain it, and understand how its body works and feels. Therefore, although the main character is inspired by my friend, a man, I discovered that the mosquito that tells the disease is a female.
The female perspective was also guided to investigating how non-mammalian oviparous animals are involved in maternal care. Eggs designed for films by HR Giger alien drawn and classified by the naturalist Ernst Heckel, in his illustrated treatise, Georges Bataille’s The story of the eyes It also fueled this oval obsession.
In this novel, I tried to tell a story about climate change from a perspective that restored human lives more than humans. I hope readers will resonate with my hero.
Dengue fever boy Michel Nieva, translated Published by Serpent’s Tail from the Spanish of Rahul Bery the latest choice for the New Scientist Book Club. Sign up here and read with us
If you can move your ears in small pieces, you can use the muscles of the anoperia. These muscles helped to change the shape of the anoperia or the ears of the ears, and made a sound on the eardrum. Million years ago, our ancestors stopped using them, so the human auricasis is only a trace. However, scientists at Saarland University have now discovered that the anoperous muscle is activated while trying to hear the competition.
The position of the electrode used to cover the excellent anoperous muscle. Image credit: Schroeer et al。 , Doi: 10.3389/fnins.2024.1462507.
“There are three large muscles that connect the auric to the skull to the scalp, which is important for shaking the ears,” said Andreas Schreaer, a researcher at the University of Saland.
“These muscles, especially excellent anoperous muscles, increase their activities during the effort in listening tasks.”
“This suggests that these muscles are potentially involved as part of the attention mechanism, especially in the challenging hearing environment, as well as reflection.
It is difficult to test how difficult someone is without self -reported measures.
However, an electrocardiogram that measures muscle electrical activities helps to identify the activity of the auricasis related to listening well.
Similar studies have already shown that the maximum muscles, the rear and upper nureal muscles react during attentive listening.
Because they are raising their ears and pulling them behind, they are thought to have been involved in moving the nurturna to capture the sound.
“It is difficult to convey the exact reason why our ancestors lost this ability about 25 million years ago,” said Dr. Schleae.
“One of the possible explanations is that the visual system and vocal system are much more skilled, so the evolutionary pressure of moving the ears has stopped.”
In order to test whether these muscles are more active in the more difficult listening tasks, researchers have recruited 20 people without hearing impairment.
They applied electrodes to the participant's auricasis, then played an audio book, and diverted the podcast from the previous or back speakers.
Each participant took 12 5 minutes tests, covering three different levels of difficulty.
In simple modes, podcasts were quieter than audiobooks, and speakers were in contrast to audiobooks.
In order to create two more difficult modes, scientists have added a podcast that sounds like an audiobook and enlarged the distractor.
However, scientists were paying attention to being able to achieve even the most difficult state. If the participants give up, no physiological efforts are registered.
Later, they evaluated the level of effort to the participants and asked to estimate the frequency of losing the audiobook thread in each trial. In addition, we quoted participants about audiobook content.
The authors have discovered that the two auricasis reacts different to different conditions.
The lodgal muscles responded to changes in the direction, but the anoperic muscle responded to the difficulty of the task.
Participants' self -reporting efforts and the frequency of losing the audiobook truck rose in accordance with tasks, and the accuracy of answers to questions about audiobooks remarkably reduced between media and difficult modes. I did.
This correlated with the level of activity of the excellent anoperia. They were more active in medium mode than Easy mode, but were very active in difficult modes.
This suggests that the activity of the muscles can help people hear it, but it suggests that excellent anoperous muscle activity can provide an objective listening effort.
“The movement of the ears that can be generated by the signal we have recorded is very small, so there is probably no knowledge that can be perceived,” said Surea.
“However, the anchle itself contributes to the ability to localize the sound, so our Auriculomotor system probably tried the best attempts after spending traces for 25 million years. I do not.
study Published in the journal Neurology Frontier。
______
Andreas Schlowaa et al。 2025. A muscle electrocardiogram correlation of effort in the tracing hearing movement system. front. Neural muscle 18; Doi: 10.3389/fnins.2024.1462507
Gillian Anderson (left) and David Duchovny as Agents Scully and Mulder in The X-Files
AJ Photo/Alamy
Television hasn’t always been kind to science fiction, with smaller budgets devoted to special effects and epic space stories being canceled before they even air. But despite all the obstacles, countless series have shown that telling long-form stories on the small screen is the perfect way to explore the complex ideas and philosophies that make the genre so fascinating. I’ve proven something.
You can choose from a wide variety of gold, new scientist The team found that choosing a favorite sci-fi series was a difficult task. Not everyone can choose just one. While this is far from a definitive list (and presented in no particular order), our selection has something for everyone, no matter what type of sci-fi fan you are. I hope it’s included.
A reboot of the ill-fated 1978 series, battlestar galactica It begins with a nuclear holocaust and the remnants of humanity huddled in a battered spaceship to escape sentient machines. But its most compelling moments involve survivors struggling to balance social and ethical norms against a ruthless calculation of survival. Jeremy Hsu
Katee Sackhoff as Kara ‘Starbuck’ Thrace in ‘Battlestar Galactica’
Movie/Alamy
leftovers Not only is this the best sci-fi series I’ve ever seen, it’s probably the best TV show ever made. Big claim, I know. The premise is strange. What happens if one day, suddenly, 2 percent of the population disappears? Don’t expect answers as to why this happened. This series offers nothing. Instead, it explores the devastating aftermath of inexplicable grief and loss. chelsea white
my family wasn’t interested doctor whoso I guess this show was my introduction to science fiction (if you count time travel as science fiction, which I definitely am). Physicist Sam Beckett (Scott Bakula) invents a method of time travel, but it’s not what he expected. Although Sam has disappeared from his own reality, his consciousness has jumped into the bodies of other people and must sort out their lives before moving forward – and hopefully returning home. The series was revived in 2022. I’ll definitely watch it when I have some time to myself without kids, books, or sleep needs. Alison Flood
Two parts science fiction, one part noir, a richly detailed world spread It drew me in like nothing else. Set in a future where humans have colonized the solar system, the story follows a hard-boiled detective who investigates the disappearance of the crew of a deep space ice transport ship and a wealthy heiress. Eventually, they become embroiled in a conspiracy and rebellion by the Belters, who live on an exploited asteroid. Long live the Outer Planets Alliance! Bethan Ackerley
black mirror It takes place in the bizarre Twilight Zone of science fiction, not fantastical enough to feel truly invented, but a little too futuristic to feel like real-world drama. Each episode jumps genres from romantic comedy to slasher horror and delves deep into how technology is distorting the human experience. The early series are the most memorable – the first episode featuring the British Prime Minister and a pig is seared into your brain – but throughout black mirror Thought-provoking, disturbing, and often darkly funny. madeleine cuff
The joy of how many stories begin with someone opening a door and stepping into the unknown? doctor whoand one of the two reasons for its longevity is that the titular Doctor’s spaceship is a gateway to all corners of time and space. You can set your story in Victorian London or a billion years into the future. Another reason the show has been around for over 60 years is that the Doctor can regenerate into a new body, which comes in handy when you want to cast a new lead role. Rowan Hooper
I started watching X files She’s about 9 years old, which is way too young! I wanted to believe in Mulder because I thought he was the epitome of cool, and I was fascinated and horrified by the monsters he and Scully encountered each week. Revisiting the series as an adult, I identified more with the skeptical Scully and was drawn to the long-running story of an alien conspiracy. This structure, which interweaves independent plots with ongoing storylines, X files Very good. Let’s say the 2010s revival never happened. jacob aaron
At first glance, fringe may seem like a successor to X files: Introducing a somewhat antagonistic pair of eccentric investigators who quickly plunge into both the supernatural and the personal. But it’s more than that. where X files There was a conspiracy between aliens and the government. fringe There are parallel universes, family secrets, psychedelics, sensory deprivation, and an incredibly powerful supporting cast. Expect Leonard Nimoy to play multi-world villains, doppelgangers, and humans turned giant porcupines. carmela padavich callahan
I hate to admit that science fiction isn’t my type of entertainment, but stories about robots and aliens just aren’t my thing. but outlander It offers a different take on the genre, with plenty of romance and a brave heroine. This is the story of Claire Beauchamp who accidentally travels back in time from 1945 to 1743. After she accepts her fate (and meets the love of her life, Jamie), Claire, a nurse, embarrasses her contemporaries with her 20-year-old self.th– centuries of knowledge about anatomy and pathogens – not to mention her feminist attitude. alexandra thompson
of star wars The series started out as a simple space opera. Empires are evil because their agents appear to be fascists. That’s a good thing because the rebels aren’t like that. But recent works have done much to complicate that story. Andor We explore what a “well-ordered” space empire looks like, colonial, mundane and inhuman, and why such conditions create heroes out of thieves. Linda Rodriguez McRobbie
There’s something modified carbon It’s horribly depressing, but also incredibly fascinating. Who wouldn’t want to try out a smorgasbord of different bodies, or what the show calls “sleeves”? Epic cities, brutal inequality, friendly AI, and questionable storylines – this cyberpunk series has it all. Finn Grant
I don’t like watching TV at night after a day of work, kids, and other life commitments, and I usually just fall asleep. However, that’s not the case when it comes to the adventures of Rick (Andrew Lincoln), Michonne (Danai Gurira), and their ragtag team. watched all episodes of the walking dead from Rick waking up in a hospital to discover a world ravaged by a virus that has turned everyone into “walkers,” to the various terrifying communities they continue to encounter. It’s shocking, well-acted, and full of surprises, especially in the early series. Alison Flood
Casimir Funk, the Polish biochemist who coined the term “vitamin” to describe a group of important molecules that help keep us alive, is the subject of today’s Google Doodle.
There have been theories for thousands of years about how food affects health. In ancient Greece and Rome, early physicians invented the “humoral” theory. This theory states that food must have the right balance of wetness, dryness, hotness, and coldness to keep the four essential humors of the body in check (fire, earth, blood, and phlegm). Much later, doctors made clearer connections, such as the observation that consuming citrus fruits like lemons helped prevent scurvy in sailors during long voyages.
In the late 19th century, scientists were trying to understand the cause of beriberi. Beriberi can affect a person’s nervous and cardiovascular systems and is now known as vitamin B1 deficiency. In 1897, Christian Eikman published a study based on experiments with chickens, proposing that a diet containing brown rice was more effective in preventing beriberi than a diet consisting only of white rice.
Casimir Funk read Aikman’s paper and set himself the challenge of finding a compound that confers protective properties on brown rice. In 1912, Funk was able to isolate the chemical believed to be responsible, and discovered that it contained characteristic nitrogen compounds called amines, which he identified as important amines, or vitamins. I named it. Eventually, scientists realized that vitamins don’t necessarily have to contain an amine group, so they dropped the final “e.”
Funk suggests that similar compounds may be present in many other “deficiencies,” as he calls them, “talking about the beriberi and scurvy vitamins. It means a substance that prevents disease.” Funk also correctly suggested that there are vitamins that prevent pellagra and rickets.
The compound Funk isolated and named “anti-beriberi factor,” now called vitamin B3, or niacin, does not actually prevent beriberi. Two years ago, Japanese scientist Umetaro Suzuki isolated vitamin B1 from brown rice and pinpointed its role in preventing beriberi. However, his research was published in a Japanese magazine, and the first Western translation, written in German, did not describe it as a new discovery.
Thirty-five years after Funk’s initial discovery, scientists have discovered a total of 13 remaining vitamins, including eight B vitamins and vitamins A, C, D, E, and K. Funk continued his research into vitamins and continued his research into pharmaceuticals. For the rest of his career, he remained with the company. He produced the first widely used vitamin concentrate in the United States called his OSCODAL, which contained liquid vitamins A and D.
Although vitamins are recognized to help prevent certain diseases, the use of vitamins as supplements is still debated among scientists. A recent meta-analysis found that there is not enough evidence that supplements and vitamins prevent cancer or heart disease for most people.
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