Academic Solidarity e.V.

Today, nutrition is often reduced to calorie counting, macronutrient distributions, and popular diet trends. However, fasting, a practice thousands of years old, makes us reconsider a more fundamental question: What truly nourishes us?

Fasting shows remarkable continuity across different geographies and religious traditions. Ramadan in Islam, Lent in Christianity, Yom Kippur in Judaism… Is the emergence of a similar practice in so many different cultures a coincidence, or does it point to a deeper truth about human nature? The answer to this question lies at the intersection of biology and the world of meaning.

Biologically, the human body is far more dynamic than we think. Within weeks, 70-90% of the atoms that make up our bodies are renewed. In this sense, humans are more like a constantly flowing river than a static structure. What we call “us” today was not long ago a part of plants, animals, or the air. What we eat transforms us. But perhaps an equally important truth is that what we don’t eat also shapes us. The 19th-century philosopher Ludwig Feuerbach said, “Man is what he eats.” Perhaps today it’s time to expand on this statement: Man is shaped not only by what he eats, but also by what he consciously chooses not to eat.

The words of the Prophet Muhammad are noteworthy in this context: “The son of Adam has never filled a vessel worse than his stomach.” This statement is not only about nutrition; it contains a powerful message about moderation, self-control, and consumption ethics. In this sense, fasting is not just about going hungry. Fasting is the practice of creating distance between desires and actions. Postponing immediate desires allows the individual to reposition themselves both physically and mentally. This process can provide not only metabolic flexibility but also psychological and moral discipline.

Fasting leads to well-organized metabolic changes in the body. After approximately 12–16 hours of fasting, the organism switches from glucose utilization to fat burning. Glycogen stores in the liver are depleted, insulin levels decrease, and fatty acids are mobilized. During this process, ketone bodies are produced in the liver. Thus, fat is burned, providing an alternative energy source for the brain.

Beyond its effects on energy metabolism, fasting is thought to have cellular effects. The most debated of these is autophagy. Autophagy is an “internal cleaning” mechanism in which the cell breaks down and recycles damaged structures. This mechanism has been strongly demonstrated, particularly in animal experiments (https://livehelfi.com/blogs/all/discover-the-benefits-of-autophagy).

Clinical studies suggest that intermittent fasting, particularly Ramadan-type fasting, may improve some metabolic markers. A systematic review by Faris et al. shows that fasting may be associated with increased insulin sensitivity, decreased inflammatory markers, and an average decrease of 3–5 mmHg in systolic blood pressure (https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/31581955/). Similarly, a meta-analysis by Sadeghirad et al. reports an average weight loss of 1–2 kilograms during Ramadan (although this effect is often temporary) (https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/23182306/).

However, these findings have a significant limitation: Fasting does not automatically lead to a healthy outcome. Dietary habits during non-fasting hours are crucial. Factors such as excessive calorie intake, high sugar consumption, and irregular sleep can negate or even reverse the potential benefits of fasting. Furthermore, fasting is not suitable for everyone. For diabetics, individuals with eating disorders, pregnant women, and those with certain chronic illnesses, fasting can pose serious health risks. Therefore, any assessment of fasting should include its limitations and risks as well as its benefits.

However, evaluating fasting solely on its physiological effects would overlook the true depth of this practice. Ultimately, believers fast not for the benefits it provides, but because of their faith. From a religious perspective, fasting is not only an act of worship but also part of a way of life. Humans are incredibly complex beings. Even the simplest machines have instruction manuals, so how reasonable is it to leave humans completely without guidance? From this point of view, we can say that prophets were not only spiritual guides but also bearers of a system for the practical aspects of life.

Fasting can become even more meaningful, especially for displaced individuals, those adapting to different countries, or those facing academic pressures. It can provide a sense of continuity, order, and control amidst feelings of fragmentation. When practiced correctly and consciously, it is neither merely a religious ritual nor simply a biological intervention. It bridges the gap between these two realms. Fasting invites us to consider the individual as both a biological organism and a being searching for meaning.

Published in June 2025, the comprehensive study titled “The Anti-Autocracy Handbook: A Scholars’ Guide to Navigating Democratic Backsliding” systematically analyzes the effects of democratic regression on academia. This text should be considered and kept on the agenda: https://zenodo.org/records/15696097

Although the handbook is written directly from the perspective of developments in the US, the conceptual framework it presents is extremely familiar and instructive for countries exhibiting authoritarian characteristics, such as Turkey. The most striking finding of the report is that democracy is not merely about elections; the real breakdown begins in unwritten norms before the written articles of the constitution. When democratic customs erode, the principle of mutual legitimacy weakens, and those in power begin to view their rivals as outside the system, accelerating the process of regression. In this process, populism, polarization, and post-truth politics work together. Governments that claim to speak in the name of the “people” divide society, muddy the information landscape, and weaken accountability. Academia, because it represents critical thinking and evidence-based truth, also becomes a target.

The handbook clearly reveals why science is one of the first targets in the process of authoritarianism. Ideological labeling of research areas, funding cuts, obstruction of international collaborations, expectations of “loyalty,” legal investigations, and smear campaigns are all parts of this process. The similarities are more easily understood when considering the expulsions, passport cancellations, disciplinary processes, and erosion of university autonomy experienced in Turkey over the last decade.

Another concept highlighted in the report is “punishment as a process.” The aim is often not conviction, but the investigation itself. Damage to reputation, public targeting, prolonged uncertainty, and legal pressure create a deterrent mechanism in themselves. The most dangerous consequence in this atmosphere is self-censorship. The text defines self-censorship as a cornerstone of authoritarianism’s behavioral architecture. As people choose not to speak, not to write, to change their research areas, or to remain silent, repression becomes more invisible but more persistent.

The “Serengeti strategy” metaphor used in the handbook is particularly striking. Authoritarian repression is often directed not at the entire herd, but at individual academics who appear to have broken away from it. The aim here is to isolate, intimidate others, and break the reflex of solidarity. Academic freedom thus shrinks step by step. The fact that certain disciplines in Turkey, particularly human rights, gender studies, migration, and minority studies, are subjected to more intense repression can be read as a reflection of this strategy.

One of the text’s important contributions is that it offers guidance on how academics can act based on the level of risk they face. The fundamental idea underlying these suggestions is: no one is completely alone, and solidarity is possible regardless of the level of risk. Sometimes media statements, sometimes archiving data, sometimes developing small but conscious objections, and sometimes telling the story anonymously can be a form of resistance. Resistance is not always a loud challenge; Sometimes, even remaining true to the truth is a political act in itself.

The report also reminds us that authoritarianism is not permanent. Citing studies examining mass movements between 1900 and 2006, it notes that most movements in which 3.5% of the population participated were successful. This information transforms hope from romantic consolation into a strategic possibility. Solidarity is also about quantity; visibility and collective courage create threshold values.

From the perspective of academic solidarity, this handbook should be seen not only as an analysis but also as a call to action. Defending academia is not an institutional reflex but an ethical imperative. The experiences of academics in exile, under pressure, or forced into self-censorship are not merely individual stories; they are early warning signs of democratic regression. When the space for truth shrinks, universities are the first to fall silent. When universities fall silent, the rest of society speaks much later.

Defending academia is not simply about protecting a professional group. It is about protecting public reason, critical thinking, and the democratic possibility of the future. Silence is contagious, but so is solidarity. Since authoritarianism progresses step by step, resistance must be built accordingly.

Recently, millions of documents related to Jeffrey Epstein have been made public. These files not only reveal a network of sexual abuse and criminal organizations but also offer a crucial mirror to the fragile relationship between academia, power, and ethics. The documents show how finance, elite politics, and academia are intertwined, revealing where the ethical boundaries of universities are being pushed (https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-026-00388-0).

One of the most striking examples of Epstein’s connections to academia is his ties to Harvard University and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT). It has been documented that he donated millions of dollars to Harvard between 1998 and 2008, some of which were directed to university-wide units, such as the Program for Evolutionary Dynamics. Although the university has investigated the visible portion of these donations and stated that it has not accepted donations since 2008, the ethical implications of past decisions are still being debated (https://www.harvard.edu/president/news-and-statements-by-president-bacow/2020/report-regarding-jeffrey-epstein-s-connections-to-harvard/).

Reports from MIT show a similar picture: over the years, Epstein’s named and anonymous donations were accepted, some of which went to research areas such as the Media Lab, leading to the resignation of several academic leaders (https://news.mit.edu/2020/mit-releases-results-fact-finding-report-jeffrey-epstein-0110).

These examples demonstrate that academic institutions may encounter ethical vulnerabilities in their search for funding. While money is a constantly sought-after resource for a prestigious institution, the question of what to do when the source of that money conflicts with ethical principles is often an issue people prefer not to confront.

The Epstein files contain not only financial documents but also correspondence with academics, academic meetings, and personal connections. For example, documents show that some professors had extensive correspondence with Epstein and attended events together (https://www.insidehighered.com/news/faculty-issues/2026/02/03/nine-more-higher-ed-names-epstein-files).

Can such connections be defended with claims of “academic freedom” and “academic independence”? Academic freedom means freedom of thought, bold research, and questioning power. However, the issue is whether academia can maintain its ethical responsibility. Academic freedom includes not only freedom of research and expression but also the responsibility to maintain a critical distance from power relations.

When figures like Epstein infiltrate academic institutions through money and connections, the following challenge arises: Can academia maintain its critical distance from money, or will it succumb to it?

This event reveals a deeper ethical blindness than simply asking “did academia make a mistake?”: a criminal infiltrating prestigious institutions with money and connections, the institutions’ inability to openly question this, and the consequences remaining unaddressed for a long time… It’s easy to say that a donation should be refused; the difficult part is establishing standards that enable the decision to refuse and maintaining those practices.

We shouldn’t view academic solidarity solely as a defense mechanism against external pressures. In ethical crises, the greatest responsibility always falls on the academic community within. Academia must constantly question its internal power relations, funding sources, and ethical priorities; it must strike a balance between money, prestige, and connections and ethical principles. Ethical crises often arise not from complicity in crime, but from ignoring it.

The death of Ahmet Turan Alkan saddened all intellectuals. His final years should be considered a concrete example of the problematic relationship that authoritarian political systems establish with educated, critical, and publicly responsible individuals. In such regimes, repression is not limited to legal sanctions or imprisonment; rather, it is a long-term and multi-layered process of intellectual neutralization.

Forcing an academic or writer to write an apology under threat (https://youtu.be/fJbmMudSVi4) corresponds to mechanisms of “symbolic obedience.” The aim of these practices is not only to punish the individual but also to undermine the legitimacy of critical thinking in the public sphere and to set a deterrent example for other intellectuals. In this context, repression operates not through direct physical violence, but through symbolic forms of violence that create more lasting effects (https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0176268022001574).

The interruption of Ahmet Turan Alkan’s academic and literary output following his imprisonment can be interpreted as an individual choice or withdrawal. However, this situation can also be considered as authoritarian “learned silence.” In systems where academic freedom formally exists but is effectively restricted, the cessation of production is a rational defense mechanism (https://repository.library.northeastern.edu/files/neu%3Acj82nr72n/fulltext.pdf).

The fact that his novel was not published by the publishing house he had worked with for years clearly demonstrates that censorship does not operate solely through state intervention. In authoritarian regimes, cultural and academic fields are shaped by self-censorship mechanisms due to fear, uncertainty, and pressure to conform. Thus, publishing houses, universities, and cultural institutions often become extensions of the power structure, often without explicit instruction. In this process, intellectuals are marginalized not only by the political power but also by their own social and institutional environments.

This individual example is part of a broader, structural process. In countries dominated by authoritarian regimes, critical academics, writers, and artists are increasingly leaving the country and seeking refuge in democratic countries. Although this is described as a “brain drain,” it is in reality the forced exile of public intellect and critical thought.

In societies where intellectuals are suppressed or systematically excluded, intellectual production slows down; universities and cultural institutions lose their critical functions. This reduces the accountability of political power while paving the way for the further entrenchment of the authoritarian structure. This relationship between intellectual impoverishment and political repression creates a self-reinforcing and difficult-to-break vicious cycle.

The final years of Ahmet Turan Alkan’s life are significant in demonstrating how this cycle operates at the individual level. Following his death, condolences were written from various political circles. His story illustrates not only the silencing of a writer, but also the tendency of authoritarian systems to produce intellectuals whose value is not appreciated during their lifetime, but remembered only after their death.

The international academic community should not only support exiled academics, but also make visible the intellectual cost of authoritarianism. In this way, the vicious cycle of silencing intellectuals can be broken. Because societies that silence their intellectuals lose their intellectual output, their critical capacity, and their democratic future in the long run.

As every year, the Davos World Economic Forum served as an important showcase of how global political and economic elites view the world and the priorities that guide them. However, this year’s discussions focused not only on economic growth or technological innovation, but also on security, geopolitical competition, democratic decline, and global inequalities.
The world is evolving into an increasingly polarized structure. The US-China rivalry, the Russia-Ukraine conflict, and instability in the Middle East are transforming the economy into an arena driven more by geopolitical calculations than by classic market dynamics. Areas such as energy security, food supply, semiconductors, and artificial intelligence are considered not only economic but also strategic power elements.
The US military intervention in Venezuela in January 2026 and the abduction of President Nicolás Maduro sparked widespread debate from an international law perspective. While many governments described this intervention as a violation of sovereignty, the US administration defended it on the grounds of “national security.” This situation has reinforced concerns that world politics is no longer determined by international norms, but by direct power politics.
However, the renewed diplomatic tension over Greenland shows that global actors are prioritizing their own interests over the interests of the world. The US’s tendency to seize Greenland, an autonomous region of Denmark, on “strategic” grounds, and the strong rebukes that followed are raising questions about Europe’s security policy and transatlantic relations. While Greenland’s local leaders emphasize the message “we are not for sale,” European countries are trying to send a message of unity against such initiatives. Germany’s search for new partners is noteworthy.
The effects of this transformation on academia are becoming increasingly visible. On the one hand, universities are becoming increasingly dependent on states’ security priorities and corporations’ profit expectations; on the other hand, the space for critical thinking, independent research, and academic freedom is shrinking. Social sciences, human rights, democracy, and migration studies are either losing funding or facing political pressure in many countries.
Universities are becoming increasingly unsafe spaces for academics, particularly in countries experiencing rising authoritarianism. As a result, forced academic migration, academic exile, and fragile integration processes are becoming more common. This is not merely an individual human rights issue; it is also a structural problem threatening the quality and diversity of global knowledge production.
The discourse on artificial intelligence and digitalization, frequently emphasized in Davos, also has a dual character for universities. While offering the potential to increase scientific productivity, it also carries the risk of transforming academia into an R&D extension of large technology companies. The commercialization of knowledge makes discussions about ethical responsibility and public benefit even more urgent.
In this context, the importance of academic solidarity networks is greater than ever. Initiatives like Academic Solidarity not only provide support to exiled academics but also create alternative public spaces that defend the independence of knowledge, academic freedom, and universal values. In a period of increasing global uncertainty, reminding universities of their social responsibility and strengthening cross-border academic solidarity are not only ethical choices but also historical necessities.
https://www.weforum.org/meetings/world-economic-forum-annual-meeting-2026/
https://decode39.com/13228/italy-and-germany-double-down-on-competitiveness-and-defense-at-rome-summit/
https://www.deutschland.de/en/news/germany-and-india-seek-to-deepen-their-relationship

In a period when trust in international institutions and dominant ideologies is shaken, the search for “meaning” is not only an individual problem; it also shapes the future of academic production, freedom of expression, and public debate.

An analysis published on TR724 argues that the cultural and political influence of American hegemony is weakening, the current global order is losing its ideological persuasive power, and this is being replaced by a search for new, as yet undefined, norms. This discussion particularly highlights the perception of double standards that hinder the assimilation of universal values such as justice, equality, and freedom. It is stated that the American-centric, uniform definition of culture and success will be replaced by a globalized multiplicity of voices, but this has not yet been clearly defined in a model (https://www.tr724.com/amerikan-ruyasinin-ardindan-islami-dusuncenin-yeni-kuresel-duzendeki-yeri/).

At one end of this search for global norms lies the possibility of a global re-discussion of Islamic thought. As the established Western-centric narrative weakens, alternative cultural and faith-based frameworks can offer avenues for meaning-making. However, when such a discourse goes beyond mere discussion of cultural preferences (i.e., when it enters the realm of public and educational policies and freedom of thought), the necessity arises to evaluate it within the context of academic freedom.

No matter how widely ideological ruptures and searches for meaning are discussed globally, they can only be addressed in a free and pluralistic research environment. Academic freedom is a fundamental prerequisite for the sustainability of a society’s intellectual capacity and public reason. However, today there are strong indications that this freedom is being restricted in many countries (especially Turkey).

In Turkey, academic freedom has systematically declined since 2016. The country ranks low in various academic freedom indices, and university autonomy has been significantly weakened. This structural change leaves research, publishing, and teaching activities under sharply repressive conditions. Academics face the risk of investigation, disciplinary action, or dismissal when expressing their political views (https://www.researchgate.net/publication/365383126_Academic_Freedom_in_Turkey).

The “Call for Peace” (We Will Not Be Complicit in This Crime!) declaration, published in 2016, signed by thousands of academics, is one of the best-known examples in Turkey. The signatory academics faced heavy public and media pressure; some were arrested, and hundreds were dismissed or forced to resign. This process demonstrated how fragile academic freedom is when those representing academic thought in the public sphere directly clash with state policies (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Academics_for_Peace).

This example also underscores the importance of international academic solidarity in response to global calls. Academics in the diaspora, while defending rights-based norms, draw attention to the repressive environment in their own countries, attempting to position the issue as a matter of freedom in the global public sphere. Such transnational networks are not merely individual advocacy practices, but can also contribute to the redefinition of universal norms of academic freedom (https://www.academia.edu/143876743/Peace_Profile_Academics_for_Peace_in_Turkey).

According to the TR724 commentary, the erosion of hegemonic narratives in the current world order makes it possible for different intellectual traditions to become visible again. In this context, Islamic thought is positioned on the horizon of discussion as an alternative, especially when Western-centric norms are criticized.

However, the critical question is: In what environment and within what frameworks are we discussing the search for global norms? Unless comparative analysis of intellectual traditions and issues such as faith and secularism is addressed at the academic level, such discussions can turn into polarizing discourses and popular manipulation in the public sphere. Therefore, academic freedom and an independent research environment represent not merely a normative choice such as “which thought is better?”, but a ground where ideas can be discussed fairly, evidence-based, and critically.

Today, many academics have been forced to leave their countries due to political pressure, human rights violations, or economic hardship. These intellectuals, in exile, strive to continue their work in their respective disciplines while also bringing new perspectives to global academic communities.

The experiences of exiled academics are not merely stories of individual victimization. They also constitute crucial focal points for rethinking global academic networks, normative values, and freedom of expression. These intellectuals, operating across diverse cultural and legal contexts, can contribute to global knowledge production and thereby mediate the expansion of academic freedom beyond the national level.

It is not surprising that people and societies embark on a “search for meaning” amidst the fragility of the global order. However, for this search to be conducted fairly, pluralistically, and freely, it cannot be reduced to a mere clash of values, as it might suggest; free academic production, freedom of expression, and a public sphere of debate are indispensable.

In countries like Turkey today, where academic freedom is restricted, intellectuals are under pressure or forced into exile. Discussing the global search for meaning necessitates defending the spaces that will guide this discussion.

A study published in Nature Medicine in January 2026 revealed that sleep is not just a moment of rest. Sleep is also a powerful biological signal that can predict future disease risks. Researchers showed that by developing a multi-mode artificial intelligence model called SleepFM, they could predict the risk of more than 130 diseases with high accuracy from sleep recordings of a single night (https://www.nature.com/articles/s41591-025-04133-4).

The study is based on a massive dataset comprising over 585,000 hours of polysomnography (PSG) recordings from approximately 65,000 individuals. PSG is a gold-standard sleep study method that simultaneously records multiple physiological signals, including brainwaves (EEG), heart rate (ECG), respiration, and muscle activity. SleepFM is designed as a foundation model that learns the “language” of sleep by analyzing these different signals together.

One of the most striking aspects of the study is its high predictive accuracy for cardiovascular diseases. The model can predict outcomes such as heart failure, stroke, myocardial infarction, and death due to cardiovascular causes with significant accuracy.

In particular, external validation performed on an independent dataset yielded an AUROC value of 0.88 for cardiovascular death. This value indicates a very strong discriminatory power in clinical predictive models. Similarly, high accuracy values were obtained for stroke and heart failure. It is stated that the combined evaluation of ECG signals and respiratory parameters plays a crucial role in the model’s success.

These findings suggest that physiological signals recorded during sleep can detect cardiovascular risks early on, even before they manifest clinically.

Today, sleep tests in clinical practice are mostly used to diagnose problems such as sleep apnea, insomnia, or excessive daytime sleepiness. However, this study reveals that sleep data has a much broader potential:

These findings mean the following in daily practice:

• A patient’s sleep record for one night can provide predictions about their future cardiovascular disease risk. This can enable early intervention, especially in asymptomatic individuals.
• High-risk patients can be individually referred for more intensive lifestyle interventions, close monitoring, or further investigations.
• In family medicine and cardiology practice, artificial intelligence models integrated into electronic patient records can provide physicians with objective risk scores.
• It can be more rationally determined who should undergo further investigation or which patients should be monitored more frequently.

On the other hand, the study population in this research mainly consists of patients who applied to sleep clinics; therefore, direct generalization to the general population may be limited. In addition, the fact that the decision-making mechanism of the artificial intelligence model is not fully explainable remains a subject of debate regarding clinical acceptance. Therefore, the results should be seen as tools to support physician assessment, not as a replacement for it.

The study is based on retrospectively matching sleep lab data with electronic patient records. However, it is unclear whether all patients who underwent PSG were followed up in the same health system over the long term. The lack of a central national EHR infrastructure in the US means that some diagnoses may have been recorded in different institutions and not reflected in the dataset. This situation may pose a risk of loss to follow-up, particularly in long-term disease predictions, and could impact model performance.

Ultimately, despite the limitations of this research, the researchers emphasize that models like SleepFM can be integrated with sleep data from wearable devices in the future. As smartwatches and home sleep sensors become more prevalent, non-invasive and continuous health monitoring may become a possibility in the near future.

Developed countries are currently facing two major and interconnected demographic transformations simultaneously. On the one hand, the population is rapidly aging, fertility rates are falling, and life expectancy is increasing; on the other hand, these countries are increasingly receiving immigration, and their social structures are becoming more diverse. Although these two processes are often discussed under separate headings, they are in reality parts of a single major transformation that simultaneously challenges the functioning of states, welfare systems, and the social contract.

The issue of aging is reflected most starkly in the numbers. While the proportion of the working-age population is decreasing, the proportion of the retired and elderly population is increasing. This has a direct impact on many areas, including pension funds and healthcare systems. Systems that finance pensions and healthcare expenses with taxes and contributions paid by workers are becoming increasingly fragile as the demographic balance is disrupted. In most European countries and across the OECD, it is predicted that the elderly dependency ratio will increase sharply in the coming decades. Simply put, this means fewer workers will have to finance a greater number of elderly people (https://ec.europa.eu/eurostat/statistics-explained/SEPDF/cache/80393.pdf).

This situation creates significant pressure on pension systems. While measures such as raising the retirement age, increasing contribution rates, or relatively reducing pension payments are technically possible, each generates political and social tensions. Moreover, as the proportion of the elderly population among the electorate increases, implementing such reforms becomes even more difficult. The pension system functions not only as a financial mechanism but also as a relationship of intergenerational solidarity and trust. When this trust is undermined, the social contract itself is called into question.

The impact of an aging population is not limited to pensions. The need for health and long-term care services increases with age, creating permanent burdens on public budgets. At the same time, there is a risk of labor market contraction. When fewer people are working, the potential for economic growth decreases, and financing public services becomes even more difficult. Therefore, many countries are trying to increase women’s employment, encourage older individuals to work longer, and develop a growth model based on productivity increases (https://www.oecd.org/en/publications/2025/11/pensions-at-a-glance-2025_76510fe4/full-report/demographic-old-age-to-working-age-ratio_25476b96.html).

One of the most striking examples of this demographic shift is Japan. Japan has a population structure characterized by low fertility and high life expectancy, resulting in a population that is not only aging but also declining in absolute terms. Projections for 2050 indicate that the country’s social structure, labor market, rural areas, and urban planning will all be reshaped in response to this reality of contraction and aging. The Japanese example also serves as a time machine for Europe; many problems that many countries will face decades from now have already become part of daily life in Japan. In short, Japan is the country that says “The future has arrived” for Europe (https://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2025/12/29/japan/society/japan-2050-predections-depopulation/).

One of the most important balancing mechanisms developed against aging is migration. Working-age migrants can support the labor market, broaden the tax base, and help address chronic labor shortages in certain sectors. Therefore, Europe, North America, and other developed regions have experienced intense immigration in recent years. In the European Union today, approximately one-tenth of the population consists of people born in non-EU countries. In OECD countries, the number of foreign-born people exceeds hundreds of millions (https://ec.europa.eu/eurostat/statistics-explained/index.php?title=EU_population_diversity_by_citizenship_and_country_of_birth).

However, the issue of migration is often addressed within a narrow and reductionist framework. In public discourse and politics, migration is often discussed through the lens of communities from Africa, the Middle East, and Asia, predominantly identified as Muslim. However, global migration flows are far more complex. Asia, Latin America, and Africa are significant regions of migration, with diverse contexts. Key determinants of migration include numerous factors such as war, political oppression, economic inequality, climate change, education, and job opportunities. Religious identity is only a small and often overemphasized part of this process (https://worldmigrationreport.iom.int/msite/wmr-2024-interactive/).

There is no definitive answer to the question of whether migration is a solution for aging societies. When supported by the right policies, migration can mitigate the economic effects of aging. However, when integration remains weak, migration can generate new social inequalities, exclusion, and political tensions. Without strong policies in areas such as education, language learning, housing, equitable access to the labor market, and combating discrimination, the potential of migration is largely wasted. Therefore, the determining factor is not the quantity of migration, but the extent to which migrants can participate in social and economic life. For countries sending migrants, the picture takes on a different dimension. The forced or semi-forced migration of academics, students, and qualified professionals, in particular, leads to a significant brain drain in these countries. While universities, healthcare systems, and public institutions weaken, receiving countries can benefit from this human resource. However, this process is not inherently fair or efficient. Problems with diploma recognition, precarious employment, and loss of professional status remain common experiences for qualified individuals migrating.

At this point, demographic transformation ceases to be merely a matter of population numbers. It also represents a global redistribution of knowledge production, academic freedom, and institutional capacity. Discussions on aging and migration directly intersect with questions of forced migration, academic solidarity, and equal participation. Receiving societies must learn to live with diversity and support it with a fair integration policy. Societies sending migrants, on the other hand, face the long-term consequences of losing their human resources. How this transformation is managed will determine not only today’s economic balances but also the future of social peace and academic freedom. When managed correctly, demographic transformation can create opportunities for global solidarity; when managed incorrectly, it prepares the ground for long-term crises in both sending and receiving societies. In this context, there can be both a good and a bad scenario:

The good scenario: Developed countries, in response to the aging problem, view the migrants they receive not only as temporary elements filling labor shortages but also as long-term social actors. Effective integration policies, education, and academic development opportunities support the potential of migrants while fostering egalitarian and solidarity-based relations with countries of origin. Diaspora networks, academic collaborations, and return channels contribute to the reconstruction of the human potential lost by migrant-sending societies. This reciprocal interaction forms the basis of a sustainable and stable system for both receiving and sending countries.

Worst-case scenario: When flawed integration policies, economic stress, and identity politics converge, the migrant population becomes the scapegoat for societal problems. Social exclusion deepens, democratic norms weaken, and political polarization increases. Simultaneously, brain drain in sending countries accelerates institutional decay and increases societal vulnerabilities. This bidirectional instability increases the risk of internal conflict in both receiving and sending societies, while also significantly increasing the likelihood of regional and even international tensions.

Health kiosks, installed in public spaces, are becoming one of the most visible and controversial faces of digital health. Spanning from shopping malls and airports to university campuses and rural settlements, these stations offer a wide range of services, from simple screenings like blood pressure measurement to remote physician consultations and AI-powered preliminary assessments. This proliferation, which has accelerated in the last two years, is not just a technological innovation; it also raises deeper questions, such as access to healthcare, inequalities, and the transformation of labor.

Today, a person approaching a health kiosk often begins with self-measurement: basic indicators such as blood pressure, pulse, oxygen saturation, weight, and body mass index are recorded within a few minutes. Some advanced models also include electrocardiography (ECG) or risk scores. These measurements are often pre-screened by AI-powered software, providing the user with understandable feedback, such as “Normal,” “follow-up recommended,” or “consult a specialist.” Here, artificial intelligence is positioned not as a replacement for the physician, but as a layer that accelerates and guides the process.

The second approach is telehealth kiosks, called “clinic-in-a-box.” In these booths, users can have a video consultation with a clinician remotely. Thanks to sensors and cameras inside the booth, the physician can see the measurements in real time. OnMed kiosks placed in airports in the US are among the best-known examples of this model. The aim is to provide fast, low-threshold health contact, especially in areas with dense and transient populations.

In Germany, however, the approach is somewhat different. Here, the “Gesundheitskiosk” concept is more focused on multilingual counseling, preventive health information, and referral to the health system. In federal and state-level pilots, the goal is to facilitate access to the system, especially for immigrants and groups with low health literacy. Guidance and bridging functions are prioritized over clinical diagnosis.

Projections for the next three to five years show that these kiosks will become even more “standardized.” Basic vital signs will become almost a default feature; AI will focus on background functions such as triage, risk flagging, appointment scheduling, and documentation. Regulation is expected to be the decisive factor. In the European Union, the intersection of medical device legislation and AI regulations will force manufacturers into a stricter framework regarding quality, traceability, and accountability. This will increase the tension between “rapid deployment” and “secure integration.”

The critical question here is: Are health kiosks truly a solution that increases accessibility, or a new layer of inequality? Will groups with high digital literacy and less concern for privacy benefit more easily from these systems, while the elderly or those hesitant about technology will be left out? Who will be held responsible if there is an error in AI-powered triage? Is the kiosk a support that closes the physician shortage, or a tool that makes healthcare labor even more fragmented and precarious?

The issue is not just about “a new device”; The public nature of healthcare, points of contact for migrants within the system, data privacy, and how academic knowledge is transferred to the field are all relevant issues. Health kiosks, when designed correctly, can be a low-threshold and inclusive entry point; when poorly designed, they can become a symbol of silently deepening inequalities. Therefore, the issue hinges not so much on “will it happen?” but rather on “how will it happen and for whom?”

https://www.nature.com/articles/s43856-025-00738-5

https://link.springer.com/article/10.1186/s12872-023-03701-1

https://innovationsfonds.g-ba.de/downloads/beschluss-dokumente/140/2022-02-16_INVEST_Billstedt.Horn_Evaluationsbericht.pdf