Written by Tom Baker, Third year, Psychology and Sociology, Glasgow University Money cannot buy happiness. It can, however, buy a great deal of things that bring happiness. From products of the utmost luxury to basic necessities required for survival, our system is one in which money is the master key that can unlock all the […]

There are few experiences as quietly destabilising as the end of a relationship. Even when we know, rationally, that something has come to an end for good reasons, the emotional aftermath often tells a very different story. Instead of relief or clarity, many people find themselves gripped by a peculiar form of fear: the fear […]

Across cultures, we turn to symbolism to understand the invisible seasons of our inner world. The Chinese zodiac, with its cycle of animal archetypes, offers one such symbolic map. As we move from the introspective Year of the Snake into the dynamic Year of the Horse 2026, we are invited to pause and consider what this shift means for our emotional wellbeing, personal growth and psychological development.

The Beauty and Meaning of Longing

Yet there is a quiet dignity in longing. It is the mark of our capacity to love what is not present — to remain connected to what is beyond possession.
The Romantic painters, poets, and composers — from Friedrich to Rilke to Chopin — all understood that longing is not merely a deficit; it is a mode of being alive to the world.

You might sometimes feel guilty for turning away, as though not keeping up with every story is a moral failure. But the truth is that no human being is designed to absorb the pain of the entire planet. Confusion, overwhelm, and even the impulse to retreat are not signs of weakness; they are simply part of what it means to be sensitive, to have a heart that is touched by the suffering of others.

As therapists are meant to be the ones who know how to sit still. We talk about containment, presence, the sacred value of the here-and-now. But even we—guardians of the analytic frame—are not immune to the guilty pleasure of gazing at the unfamiliar. A slow scroll through Turkish hammams, a documentary on Siberian reindeer herders, the oddly calming sight of Japanese forest monks sweeping temple grounds. There it is again: cultural voyeurism.

Variable rewards are so effective because they mimic a deeply ancient survival logic. In the wild, rewards were rarely consistent. You didn’t know when the next berry bush would appear or whether the rustle in the bushes meant danger or dinner. Unpredictability kept our ancestors alert and engaged. Those who stuck around the longest — watching, waiting, trying — often had the best chance of survival.

In an era of personal branding, viral opinions, and relentless self-promotion, humility seems to have become an anachronism—something quaint, even suspicious. It is hard to imagine a social media influencer celebrating their own modesty, or a politician admitting their uncertainty. Humility, once a prized virtue, has been edged out by a culture that rewards confidence, […]

There was a time when education was seen as a gateway to self-improvement, a mark of aspiration, and even something admirable. To be thoughtful, well-read, and informed was considered a virtue. Today, however, a troubling shift has occurred. Being intellectual or well-informed is no longer “cool” in certain spaces, especially in the fast-moving, hyper-reactive world of social media. Instead, we are witnessing the rise of an alarming anti-intellectual culture, where wit is mistaken for wisdom, confidence trumps knowledge, and memes or tweets are seen as sufficient substitutes for careful thought.