Since his release from a Russian prison, Ukrainian journalist Dmytro Khyliuk has barely been off the phone. BBC reports that he spent three and a half years in Russian captivity after being detained in the first days of the full-scale invasion. He was freed last month in a prisoner swap, one of eight civilians released in a rare move by Moscow.

Amid the ongoing Russo-Ukrainian war, most exchanges between Russia and Ukraine have involved soldiers. The return of eight civilians, including Dmytro, came in a group of 146 Ukrainians. They did not disclose the exact terms of the deal, only that it included “people Russia was interested in.” One source told BBC that some of them were residents of Russia’s Kursk region, evacuated during Ukraine’s incursion in 2024.

Crowds gathered waving Ukrainian flags when the freed men returned, many of them emaciated from years behind bars. Stepping off the bus, Dmytro immediately phoned his mother to say he was finally free. His parents are elderly and unwell, and he had long feared never seeing them again.

A testimony of constant cruelty

Speaking to BBC after his release, Dmytro described brutal treatment in multiple Russian facilities.

“They grabbed us and literally dragged us to the prison and on the way they beat us with rubber batons shouting things like, ‘How many people have you killed?’” he recalled.

Guards sometimes set dogs on prisoners.

“The cruelty was really shocking and it was constant,” he said.

He was never charged with a crime. In the first year, he endured starvation, losing more than 20 kg in a few months. He lost more than 20kg in the first few months. He also saw soldiers tortured with electric shocks during interrogations. The sounds of their pain and the bruises on their bodies left lasting impressions.

Captivity begins at home

The ordeal started in 2022 in Kozarovychi, his family’s village near Kyiv. As he and his father Vasyl checked damage to their home during Russia’s assault on the capital, troops detained them. Both men were bound, blindfolded, and held in a basement under warehouses used as a Russian base.

Vasyl was released, but Dmytro was transferred deeper into Russia. His parents later received just two scraps of paper from him. One note read, “I’m alive, I’m well. Everything’s ok.” For months, they feared the worst.

Families left waiting

BBC reports that more than 16,000 Ukrainian civilians remain missing. Officials have confirmed that only a fraction are in Russian prisons. Moscow does not publish lists. In Dmytro’s area alone, 43 men remain unaccounted for.

One of them is Volodymyr Loburets, detained at the same time as Dmytro. He has a new grandson he has never met. His wife Vira told BBC,

“I had a husband – and now I don’t.”

Families are frustrated because the Ukrainian government will not swap Russian soldiers for civilian hostages.

Ukraine’s impossible choices

Ukraine’s human rights ombudsman Dmytro Lubinets told BBC that dealing with Russia is like “playing chess with an opponent who stands up, pulls on boxing gloves and punches you.” Ukraine has no Russian civilian prisoners to trade, while sending soldiers back in return for civilians would trigger more abductions. Only one previous exchange involved Ukrainians accused of collaboration. It is unclear if that approach will be repeated.

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Home again, but changed forever

For Dmytro, the long wait is almost over. He is recovering in a Kyiv hospital before returning to his village. His mother Halyna can hardly mention his name without crying.

“When Dima called, he told me to be calm, that I shouldn’t cry anymore. But we haven’t seen our son for three and a half years!” she said.

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Back home, his house still bears shrapnel scars from Russia’s advance. He admits returning requires adjustment.

“So the trees are the same, the buildings are the same. But you understand this is a different country. You’re in a different reality,” he said.

In recent weeks, several small-scale protests have taken place across Russia, a rare sight since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine three years ago. Oddly, the demonstrators waved Soviet flags while holding banners demanding unrestricted access to digital platforms. It also remains unclear how the left-wing organizers secured permits to protest against the Kremlin’s latest move to further lock down and control the country’s online space.

Russia is in the process of constructing the most comprehensive digital surveillance state outside of China, deploying a three-layered approach that enforces the use of state-approved communication platforms, implements AI-powered censorship tools, and creates targeted tracking systems for vulnerable populations. The system is no longer about just restricting information, it's about creating a digital ecosystem where every click, conversation, and movement can be monitored, analyzed, and controlled by the state. 

From September 1, 2025, Russia crossed a critical threshold in digital authoritarianism by mandating that its state-backed messenger app Max be pre-installed on all smartphones, tablets, computers, and smart TVs sold in the country. 

Max functions as Russia's answer to China's WeChat, offering government services, electronic signatures, and payment options on a single platform. But unlike Western messaging apps with end-to-end encryption, Max lacks such protections and has been accused of gaining unauthorized camera access, with users reporting that the app turns on their device cameras "every 5-10 minutes" without permission. The integration with Gosuslugi, Russia's public services portal, means Max is effectively the only gateway for basic civil services: paying utility bills, signing documents, and accessing government services.

As Max was rolled out, WhatsApp and Telegram users found themselves unable to make voice calls, with connections failing or dropping within seconds. Officials justified blocking these features by citing their use by "scammers and terrorists," while a State Duma deputy warned that WhatsApp should "prepare to leave the Russian market".

The Amina Experiment

The most chilling aspect of Russia's digital control system may be its targeted surveillance of migrants through another app called the Amina app. Starting September 1, foreign workers from nine countries, including Ukraine, Georgia, India, Pakistan and Egypt, must install an app that transmits their location to the Ministry of Internal Affairs.

This creates a two-tiered digital citizenship system. While Russian citizens navigate Max's surveillance, migrants face constant geolocation tracking. If the Amina app doesn't receive location data for more than three days, individuals are removed from official registries and added to a "controlled persons registry". This designation bars them from banking, marriage, property ownership, and enrolling children in schools, effectively creating digital exile within Russia's borders.

Russia's censorship apparatus has evolved beyond human moderators to embrace artificial intelligence for content control. Roskomnadzor, the executive body which supervises communications, has developed automated systems that scan "large volumes of text files" to detect references to illegal drugs in books and publications. Publishers can now submit manuscripts to AI censors before publication, receiving either flagged content or an all-clear message.

This represents a fundamental shift in how authoritarian states approach information control. As one publishing industry source told Meduza: "We've always assumed that the censors and the people who report books don't actually read them. But neural networks do. So now it's a war against the A.I.s: how to craft a book so the algorithm can't flag it, but readers still get the message".

The scope of Russia's digital surveillance ambitions became clear when the FSB, the country’s intelligence service, demanded round-the-clock access to Yandex's Alisa smart home system. While Yandex was only fined 10,000 rubles (about $120) for refusing – a symbolic amount that suggests the real pressure comes through other channels – the precedent is significant. The demand for access to Alisa represented what digital rights lawyer Evgeny Smirnov called an unprecedented expansion of the Yarovaya Law, which previously targeted mainly messaging services. Now, virtually any IT infrastructure that processes user data could fall under FSB surveillance demands.

The Broader Pattern 

Russia's digital control system follows the Chinese model but adapts it for different circumstances. While China built its internet infrastructure "with total state control in mind," Russia is retrofitting an existing system that was initially developed by private actors. This creates both opportunities and vulnerabilities.

The government's $660 million investment in upgrading its TSPU censorship system over the next five years signals long-term commitment to digital control. The goal is to achieve "96% efficiency" in restricting access to VPN circumvention tools. Meanwhile, new laws make VPN usage an aggravating factor in criminal cases and criminalizes "knowingly searching for extremist materials" online.

The infrastructure Russia is building today, from mandatory state messengers to AI censors to migrant tracking apps represents the cutting edge of digital authoritarianism. At least 18 countries have already imported Chinese surveillance technology, but Russia's approach offers a lower-cost alternative that's more easily transferable.. The combination of mandatory state apps, AI-powered censorship, and precision targeting of vulnerable populations creates a blueprint that other authoritarian regimes are likely to study and adapt.

To understand the impetus behind Russia’s digital Panopticon, look at Nepal: Russian analysts could barely contain their glee as they watched Nepal's deadly social media protests unfold. "Classic Western handiwork!" they declared, dismissing the uprising as just another "internet revolution" orchestrated by foreign powers. But their commentary revealed Moscow's deeper anxiety: what happens when you lose control of the narrative?

Russia isn't building its surveillance state to prevent what happened in Nepal, they're building it because they already lived through their own version. The 2021 Navalny protests proved that Russia's digitally native generation could organize faster than the state could respond. The difference is that Moscow's solution wasn't to back down like Nepal's now fallen government did. It was to eliminate the human networks first, then build the digital cage.

A version of this story was published in last week’s Coda Currents newsletter. Sign up here.

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On 4 September, InformNapalm, a volunteer intelligence initiative focused on Russian aggression in Ukraine, published the personal data of 33 Russian prison staff reportedly involved in the torture of Ukrainian POWs at Mordovia’s IK-10. The exposé builds on survivor testimony broadcast by RFE/RL’s Skhemy.

According to InformNapalm, IK-10 has become a conveyor of abuse and repression since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion. The Mordovia-based colony reportedly held about 700 Ukrainian POWs as of April 2025. Just 177 have been released.

“The rest remain in captivity, continuing to fight not only for freedom but for their lives,” InformNapalm wrote.

InformNapalm publishes 33 names of Russian prison staff tied to Ukrainian POW torture

A volunteer intelligence group investigating Russian war crimes has publicly identified 33 staff members of Russia’s notorious penal colony No. 10 (IK-10) in Mordovia. InformNapalm, which since 2014 has gathered open-source intelligence to expose war-related abuses, released names, ranks, addresses, contact information, social media profiles, and roles of individuals allegedly responsible for the torture and inhumane treatment of Ukrainian prisoners of war.

The release follows a 17 July 2025 investigation by the Ukrainian news program Skhemy (“Schemes”), a project of Radio Svoboda, which aired testimony from survivors held at IK-10.

Inside a prison built to erase identity

Located in the settlement of Udarnyi, Zubovo-Polyansky district, IK-10 is operated as a special-regime facility. InformNapalm and “Schemes” both describe an atmosphere of total psychological suppression, where prisoners were routinely denied medical care, beaten, forced to stand for hours, and cut off from any knowledge of their whereabouts.

Guards and staff reportedly concealed their identities behind balaclavas and medical masks. Even the place of the facility was hidden from detainees. The goal, according to survivor accounts, was to strip POWs of identity and autonomy, reducing them to a state of helplessness under constant threat.

Reports of abuse at IK-10 go back to 2012–2014, but the colony’s role expanded after Russia’s full-scale invasion in February 2022.

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33 names, ranks, and faces behind the brutality

The list published by InformNapalm identifies a wide range of staff. At the top is Sergei Zabaiykin, who served as head of IK-10 from 2022 until March 2024 and is now deputy head of the FSIN directorate in Mordovia. FSIN is Russia’s federal authority for the prisons and detention of suspects and convicts. Inform Napalm cites a Russian publication describing Zabaikin as “a thieving head of the colony with a ‘beastly’ attitude toward inmates.”

His successor, Aleksandr Gnutov, served as deputy chief, then acting chief, and became official colony head in July 2024.

Other high-ranking figures named include multiple deputy heads: Aleksandr Pavlushkin, Aleksei Anashkin, Yegor Averkin, and Sergei Muymarov. InformNapalm says these individuals oversaw the daily operations during the peak periods of reported violence.

Medical personnel also figure prominently in the report. Field medic Ilya Sorokin—known by the nickname “Doctor Evil”—was named as a central figure. “Schemes” reported that Sorokin left his post at the end of 2024 and joined the Russian Defense Ministry, now operating under the call sign “Doctor” in military supply units. InformNapalm says he remains in contact with his former colleagues and continues to receive medical supplies for use in Russia’s war effort.

Chief physician Galina Mokshanova, her deputy Aleksandr Levin, and multiple other medics and nurses are named as having supported or enabled torture through medical neglect or complicity.

Not just jailers: engineers, psychologists, and guards

InformNapalm’s list includes more than command and medical staff. It also names psychologists, engineers, and guards believed to have played roles in the abuse. Senior psychologist Alesia Avdonina, for example, is described as a captain of internal service and also a part-time nail technician, showing the stark dissonance between professional responsibilities and daily online life.

Others identified include engineer Konstantin Anchin, psychologist Olga Khremkina, and senior inspector Anna Shcherbakova. InformNapalm notes that several individuals had no social media presence, while others shared openly under their real names.

Russia reacts with panic and suppression

Following the initial broadcast of “Schemes” in July, InformNapalm says insider sources reported increased activity from the Russian Investigative Committee and FSB. These agencies allegedly warned IK-10 staff about harsher penalties for information leaks and tried to prevent future exposures.

InformNapalm interprets this response as a sign that Russian authorities fear accountability. The group emphasized that “no mask will protect you” and called the release a first step toward identifying all individuals involved in war crimes inside Russia’s penitentiary system.

“Every new fact strengthens the chain of responsibility”

InformNapalm stresses that the publication of these 33 names is not the conclusion, but the beginning. The group is now encouraging anyone with further knowledge—especially former inmates or staff—to come forward with verified information.

The group seeks specific details: names or nicknames, job roles, periods of employment, specific incidents of abuse, supporting media, and contact information. All information will be carefully verified and sources anonymized when necessary.

InformNapalm warns against directly contacting any of the named individuals and urges caution for those living in temporarily occupied territories. Safe devices, VPNs, and page archiving are strongly recommended when submitting tips.

“This publication is not the final point,” the report concludes. “It’s the foundation for further documentation. Every confirmation is a contribution to truth and justice.”

Steve Witkoff, the United States Special Envoy to the Middle East, has said that the White House is putting together a “very comprehensive plan” to end the war in Gaza. Donald Trump agreed, claiming that “within the next two to three weeks” there would be a “pretty good, conclusive ending.” In the meantime, though, Israel has expanded its all-out assault on Gaza City, suspending aid operations even as the United Nations declares Gaza to be officially in the grip of a man-made famine. An Israeli spokesman said in Arabic that the evacuation of Gaza City was “inevitable”. The prospect of a ceasefire seems remote, though Qatari mediators have said Hamas has signed up to a ceasefire on terms nearly identical to those proposed by the U.S. and agreed to by Israel. But, as Trump has posted on Truth Social, Israel and the U.S. now believe that only by destroying Hamas and taking over Gaza, can the release of hostages be secured. 

It doesn’t appear to matter how many more civilians die in the meantime. “Israel values the work of journalists, medical staff, and all civilians,” Benjamin Netanyahu posted on social media on August 25 responding to global condemnation following the deaths of five journalists in an attack on Nasser Hospital in Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip. Since the war in Gaza began in October, 2023, at least 197 journalists have been killed according to the Committee to Protect Journalists which has described Israel’s actions as “the deadliest and most deliberate effort to kill and silence journalists that CPJ has ever documented.” Al Jazeera, the Qatari-based news network, puts the number at over 270. 

Italian prime minister Giorgia Meloni, speaking at a Catholic festival in Rimini, said the killings were “an unacceptable attack on press freedom and on all those who risk their lives to report the tragedy of war.” British prime minister Keir Starmer called the bombing in Khan Yunis “completely indefensible.” On X, the German foreign ministry said it had “repeatedly called on the Israeli government to allow immediate independent foreign media access and afford protection for journalists operating in Gaza.” Spain described it as “a flagrant and unacceptable violation of international humanitarian law.” 

Given the near universal condemnation, will anything be done to hold Israel to account? “More governments are showing a willingness in recent months to call out Israel for its failure to protect journalists and to call for transparent investigations into their killings,” said Jodie Ginsberg, the chief executive of the Committee to Protect Journalists. “But,” she told Coda, “they still stop short on taking any concrete measures - such as sanctions, or conditions on trade agreements or weapons sales - that could force Israel to uphold its obligations under international law.”

Earlier this month, on August 10, Al Jazeera journalist Anas al-Sharif, was killed in Gaza City alongside several of his colleagues. Israel admitted to targeting al-Sharif, describing him as “masquerading” as a journalist. “A terrorist is a terrorist,” Israeli diplomats said, “even if Al Jazeera gave him a press badge.” 

According to intelligence sources who spoke to Israeli publication +972 Magazine, the IDF established a special “Legitimization Cell” after October 7, tasked not with security operations but with gathering intelligence to bolster Israel's media image. The unit specifically sought to identify Gaza-based journalists it could portray as Hamas operatives, driven by anger that Palestinian reporters were “smearing Israel's name in front of the world.” Whenever global criticism intensified over the killing of journalists, the cell was instructed to find intelligence that could publicly counter the narrative. "If the global media is talking about Israel killing innocent journalists, then immediately there's a push to find one journalist who might not be so innocent—as if that somehow makes killing the other 20 acceptable," one intelligence source told +972 Magazine. Intelligence gathered was passed directly to American officials through special channels, with officers told that their work was vital to allowing Israel to continue the war without international pressure.

In its initial inquiry into Monday’s bombing of Nasser Hospital in Khan Yunis, Israel claimed a camera at the hospital was “being used to observe the activity of IDF troops, in order to direct terrorist activities against them.” International journalists have no independent access to Gaza. It would be, Ginsberg said, “one way to help force a change in the narrative being pushed by Israel that all Gazan journalists are terrorist operatives and therefore none can be trusted.” Ginsberg told Coda that of the cases of journalists and media workers killed by Israel, CPJ has so far “deemed 26 to be deliberate targeting… these are the cases where we are clear that Israel would have known the individuals killed were journalists and nevertheless targeted them.”

Journalists, as civilians, are protected under international law. Targeting them is a war crime. Yet, Ginsberg notes, since “international journalists and human rights investigators do not have access to Gaza,” it has “hampered documentation.” And “more disturbingly,” she added, “the dehumanization of Gazan journalists and Gazans more generally means there has not been the collective outrage that should accompany any killing let alone killings of this magnitude.”

Israel has already said that the deaths of journalists in the attack on Nasser Hospital were a "tragic mishap" that resulted from legitimate security operations. The recent UN Security Council vote on an immediate ceasefire (14 out of 15 members supporting, only the U.S. withholding) signals Israel’s growing isolation. But American support is all Israel needs to continue its war. As the killings of journalists continue to be explained away, without evidence, as the killing of terrorists, the window for independent reporting in Gaza has likely closed. The systematic targeting of Gazan journalists isn't collateral damage, it's strategic silencing ahead of what may be the war's final phase.

A version of this story was published in our Coda Currents newsletter. Sign up here.

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Ukrainian Parliament Commissioner for Human Rights Dmytro Lubinets commented on Russia’s intention to withdraw from the European Convention for the Prevention of Torture. He stressed that such a move demonstrates the Kremlin’s disregard for human rights and paves the way for even greater crimes against Ukrainians.

Russia leaves the convention: what it means

Recently, Moscow has announced its withdrawal from the European Torture Convention, which not only prohibits torture but also provides for monitoring of places of detention. Previously, this was carried out by the European Committee for the Prevention of Torture.

According to Lubinets, this decision has several dangerous consequences:

• avoiding international monitoring of torture in prisons and in temporarily occupied territories;
• the loss of legal and judicial mechanisms of pressure on Russia;
• the effective removal of responsibility before the Council of Europe.

“The aggressor state shows that it does not care about human rights and no longer recognizes European norms,” the Ukrainian ombudsman stated.

Threat of mass human rights violations

Russia, which for years has carried out arbitrary detentions, torture, and violence against prisoners of war and civilians, is now officially refusing even its formal international obligations.

Ukrainian journalist abducted from his garden in 2022 returns from Russian captivity weighing less than 45 kg

Lubinets stressed that impunity only breeds new crimes and creates a threat to the global rule of law.

“Such actions by Russia create risks of widespread human rights violations, especially during armed conflicts,” he noted.

What the world must do

Despite Russia’s withdrawal, other international mechanisms remain. Lubinets emphasized the importance of:

• using the UN Convention against Torture;
• cooperating with the International Committee of the Red Cross;
• documenting Russia’s crimes and transferring them to the International Criminal Court;
• imposing sanctions against those involved in torture.

“Torture is part of Russia’s state policy,” Lubinets concluded.

Maksym Butkevych has made the short list for the 2025 edition of the Václav Havel Human Rights Prize, PACE announced on 26 August. The prize is given to those who have made significant contributions to civil society in defense of human rights in Europe and beyond. 

The shortlisting demonstrates international recognition of Ukrainian civil society’s resilience under authoritarian pressure, with Butkevych representing defenders who’ve paid the ultimate price for their principles. Over two decades, he established himself as one of Ukraine’s leading voices on justice and human rights. 

Journalist, activist, and anti-militarist, Maksym Butkevych has a long history of fighting for human rights in Ukrainian society – both on and off the battlefield. 

He co-founded the ZMINA Center for Human Rights and Hromadske Radio, a leading independent Ukrainian media outlet. 

Despite his pacifist views, in 2022 he joined the Armed Forces of Ukraine, viewing the decision as essential to human rights protection. The same year, he was captured by Russian forces and ultimately spent 913 days in a Russian prison on occupied Ukrainian land before his release in October, 2024. 

Today, he continues to fight for those still in Russian captivity. 

The Václav Havel Human Rights Prize

The Václav Havel Prize is organized by the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe (PACE), named after the former Czech president, author, and dissident. The prize has a history of honoring people and organizations who have suffered under authoritarian regimes around the world. 

The prize is intended to “pay tribute to all defenders of human rights who, sometimes at the cost of their lives, stand firm to protect and promote fundamental freedoms and human rights.”

“Václav Havel believed deeply in the power of words and the importance of journalism, stating that words can change history and that truthful expression can disrupt oppressive regimes,” the PACE President said on the prize’s website. 

The winner of the prize will be announced on 29 September. 

Three finalists represent struggle for fundamental freedoms across Europe

Mzia Amaghlobeli, Georgia:

Mzia Amaghlobeli has been a pioneering Georgian journalist since 2000 and co-founder of the independent media outlets Batumelebi and Netgazeti. Despite politically motivated imprisonment and harsh mistreatment following her exposure of abuses during protests, her courageous actions have helped draw attention to media repression and political abuse, aiming to ensure a democratic future for Georgia. Her arrest and subsequent sentencing in 2025 made her a symbol of press freedom and resilience in the face of government repression, highlighting the crucial role journalists play in defending human rights.

Maksym Butkevych, Ukraine:

Maksym Butkevych is a Ukrainian journalist, human rights defender, and co-founder of the Human Rights Centre Zmina and Hromadske Radio. Despite his lifelong pacifism, he volunteered for the Ukrainian Armed Forces at the start of the 2022 Russian invasion and became a platoon commander. Captured and sentenced to 13 years by Russian forces, he endured over two years of harsh imprisonment before being released in a prisoner exchange in October 2024. He remains a powerful symbol of courage and resilience in defense of justice and freedom. 

Ulvi Hasanli, Azerbaijan:

Ulvi Hasanli is an Azerbaijani journalist and director of the independent media outlet Abzas Media since 2016. He has faced relentless government persecution since 2011, including arbitrary detention, torture, and politically motivated charges. In June 2025, Hasanli was sentenced to nine years in prison and is currently detained under harsh conditions in a remote prison, where he has endured hunger strikes and solitary confinement while continuing to embody resilience and commitment to press freedom.

In September, the International Criminal Court will conduct a confirmation of charges hearing against warlord Joseph Kony. Leader of the once notorious rebel group Lord’s Resistance Army and the subject of ICC warrants dating back two decades, Kony is still at large, still evading arrest.

Thirteen years ago, a group of American do-gooders tried to do something about this. 

The NGO Invisible Children published a 30-minute YouTube video with high hopes. With their film ‘Kony 2012’, they sought to stop the Lord’s Resistance Army, which had kidnapped, killed and brought misery to families across several Central African nations since the late 1980s. The video opens with our blue orb home spinning in outer space as the director reminds us of our place in time. “Right now, there are more people on Facebook than there were on the planet 200 years ago,” he says. “Humanity's greatest desire is to belong and connect, and now, we see each other. We hear each other. We share what we love. And this connection is changing the way the world works.” In other words,  the technology of connection will solve this problem.

Despite the uber virality of the film,100 million plus views nearly overnight, Kony remains a free man, though much more infamous, and his victims didn’t get all the help they needed. The campaign seemed to embody slacktivism at its most poisonous: the high hope that you can change the world from your sofa.

“Hope,” Gloria Steinem once wrote, “is a very unruly emotion.” Steinem was writing about US politics in the Nixon era but the observation holds. Hope is at the core of how many of us think about the future. Do we have hope? That’s good. It’s bad if we have the opposite – despair, or even cynicism. 

Former CNN international correspondent, Arwa Damon knows this unruly quality of hope firsthand. For years she worked as a journalist in conflict zones. Now she helps kids injured by war through her charity called INARA. She discussed this work last month at ZEG Fest, Coda’s annual storytelling festival in Tbilisi. In war, Damon has seen how combatants toy with hope, holding out the possibility of more aid, less fighting only to undermine these visions of a better tomorrow. This way, she says they snuff out resistance. This way they win. 

In seeing this, and in surviving her own close calls, Damon told the Zeg attendees, she realized she didn’t need hope to motivate her. “Fuck hope,” she said to surprised laughter. 

So what motivates her to keep going? “Moral obligation,” she said. After everything she has seen, she simply cannot live with herself if she doesn’t help.  She doesn’t need to hope for an end to wars to help those injured by them now. In fact, such a hope might make her job harder because she’d have to deal with the despair when this hope gets dashed, as it will again and again. She can’t stop wars, but she can, and does, help the kids on the front lines. 

Most of us haven’t crawled through sewers to reach besieged Syrian cities or sat with children in Iraq recovering from vicious attacks. And most of us don’t spend our days marshalling aid convoys into war zones. But we see those scenes on our phones, in near real time. And many of us feel unsure what to do with that knowledge because most of us would like to do something about these horrors. How do we deal with this complex emotional reality? Especially since, even if we are not in a physical war zone, the information environment is packed with people fighting to control the narratives. In this moment of information overload and gargantuan problems, could clinging onto hope be doing us more harm than good? 

Emotion researchers like Dr. Marc Brackett will tell you that instead of thinking of emotions as good or bad, we can think of them as signals about ourselves and the world around us. And we could also think about them as behaviors in the real world. Dr. Brackett, who founded and runs the Center for Emotional Intelligence at Yale, said hope involves problem solving and planning. Think about exercising, which you might do because you hope to improve your body. In those cases hope could prove a useful motivator. “The people who only have hope but not a plan only really have despair,” Dr. Brackett explained “because hope doesn't result in an outcome.”  

Developing a workout plan seems doable. Developing a plan to capture a warlord or stop kids from suffering in wars is a good deal more complex. The 2010s internet gave us slacktivism and Kony 2012, which seems quaint compared to the 2020s internet with its doom scrolling, wars in Ukraine and Gaza and much more misery broadcast in real time. What should we do with this information? With this knowledge? 

Small wonder people tune out, or in our journalism jargon, practice news avoidance. But opting out of news doesn’t even provide a respite. Unless you’ve meticulously pruned your social media ecosystem, the wails of children, the worries about climate change, the looming threats of economic disruption or killer machines, those all can quickly crowd out whatever dopamine you got from that video of puppy taking its first wobbly steps. But paradoxically, the pursuit of feeling good, might actually be part of the problem of hope. 

I took these questions about hope to Dr. Lisa Feldman Barrett, an acclaimed psychologist and neuroscientist. She too talked less about our brains and more about our behaviors. The author of, among other things, How Emotions are Made, Dr. Barrett noted that we might experience hope in the moment as pleasant or energizing and it helps with creating an emotional regulation narrative. Meaning: we can endure difficulty in the present because we believe tomorrow we will feel better, it will get better. However, Barrett said hope alone as a motivator “might not be as resistant to the slings and arrows of life.” If you assume things will get better, and then they don’t, how do you keep going? 

“I think people misunderstand what's happening under the hood when you're feeling miserable,” she added. “Lots of times feel unpleasant not because they're wrong but because they're hard.”

I told Dr. Barrett about Damon’s belief that she keeps going because of moral obligation and she again looked at the emotional through the behavioral. “There is one way to think about moral responsibility as something different than hope,” she said, “but if hope is a discipline and you're doing something to make the parts of the world different you could call it the discipline of hope.” This could be a more durable motivation, she suggested, than one merely chasing a pleasant sensation that tomorrow will be better.  “My point is that, if your motivation is to feel good, whatever it is you are doing, your motivation will wane.”

After ‘Kony 2012’ shot to astonishing success, in terms of views, the creators raised tens of millions of dollars but achieved little on the ground – an early lesson in the limits of clicktivism. Once upon a time American do-gooders hoped they’d help Ugandan children simply by making a warlord infamous, now the viralness of  Kony 2012 feels like a window into a cringey past, a graveyard of hopes dashed. But maybe we just grew up. Maybe our present time and this information environment full of noise and warring parties asks more of us. Maybe hope has a place but among a whole emotional palate of motivations instead of a central pillar keeping us moving forward. Because let’s be honest: we may never get there.  Hope, as the experts told me, doesn’t work without a plan. And, raising hopes, especially grand ones like changing global events from your smartphone, only to have them dashed can actually prompt people to disengage, to despair maybe, or even to embrace cynicism so they don’t have to go through the difficult discipline of hope and potential disappointment.  

One day, during the start of the pandemic, when my home doubled as my office, I got a piece of professional advice I’ve held tight. A therapist who works with ER doctors shared with a group of us journalists that when we work on tasks that seem never ending, burnout is more likely. To prevent it, he advised that we right-size the problem. Put down the work from time to time, celebrate our achievements (especially in tough times), develop rituals and build out perspective to nourish us as we keep doing the work.

The pandemic ended but we bear the scars and warily look out at a horizon full of looming troubles, most of them way outside the control of any one of us. Both Dr. Marc Brackett and Dr. Lisa Feldman Barrett reminded me: emotions are complex and humans aren’t motivated by just one thing. But no matter what mountain we want to climb we would all do well to adopt this conception of hope as a discipline rather than just a feeling. Because in this environment, there’s always someone on the other side betting we’ll give up in despair.

A version of this story was published in last week’s Sunday Read newsletter. Sign up here.

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I was invited to deliver a keynote speech at the ‘AI for Good Summit’ this year, and I arrived at the venue with an open mind and hope for change. With a title “AI for social good: the new face of technosolutionism” and an abstract that clearly outlined the need to question what “good” is and the importance of confronting power, it wouldn’t be difficult to guess what my keynote planned to address. I had hoped my invitation to the summit was the beginning of engaging in critical self-reflection for the community. 

But this is what happened. Two hours before I was to deliver my keynote, the organisers approached me without prior warning and informed me that they had flagged my talk and it needed substantial altering or that I would have to withdraw myself as speaker. I had submitted the abstract for my talk to the summit over a month before, clearly indicating the kind of topics I planned to cover. I also submitted the slides for my talk a week prior to the event. 

Thinking that it would be better to deliver some of my message than none, I went through the charade or reviewing my slide deck with them, being told to remove any reference to “Gaza” or “Palestine” or “Israel” and editing the word “genocide” to “war crimes” until only a single slide that called for “No AI for War Crimes” remained. That is where I drew the line. I was then told that  even displaying that slide was not acceptable and I had to withdraw, a decision they reversed about 10 minutes later, shortly before I took to the stage.

Looking at this year’s keynote and centre stage speakers, an overwhelming number of them came from industry, including Meta, Microsoft, and Amazon. Out of the 82 centre stage speakers, 37 came from industry, compared to five from academia and only three from civil society organisations. This shows that what “good” means in the "AI for Good" summit is overwhelmingly shaped, defined, and actively curated by the tech industry, which holds a vested interest in societal uptake of AI regardless of any risk or harm.

“AI for Good”, but good for whom and for what? Good PR for big tech corporations? Good for laundering accountability? Good for the atrocities the AI industry is aiding and abetting? Good for boosting the very technologies that are widening inequity, destroying the environment, and concentrating power and resources in the hands of few? Good for AI acceleration completely void of any critical thinking about its societal implications? Good for jumping on the next AI trend regardless of its merit, usefulness, or functionality? Good for displaying and promoting commercial products and parading robots?

Any ‘AI for Good’ initiative that serves as a stage that platforms big tech, while censoring anyone that dares to point out the industry’s complacency in enabling and powering genocide and other atrocity crimes is also complicit. For a United Nations Summit whose brand is founded upon doing good, to pressure a Black woman academic to curb her critique of powerful corporations should make it clear that the summit is only good for the industry. And that it is business, not people, that counts.

This is a condensed, edited version of a blog Abeba Birhane published earlier this month. The conference organisers, the International Telecommunication Union, a UN agency, said “all speakers are welcome to share their personal viewpoints about the role of technology in society” but it did not deny demanding cuts to Birhane’s talk. Birhane told Coda that “no one from the ITU or the Summit has reached out” and “no apologies have been issued so far.”

A version of this story was published in the Coda Currents newsletter. Sign up here.

The post AI, the UN and the performance of virtue  appeared first on Coda Story.

Kyiv's Desniansky District Court has formally recognized a same-sex couple as a family, marking the first legal precedent of its kind in Ukraine, human rights organization Insight LGBTQ announced on July 3.

Ukraine does not currently recognize same-sex marriages or partnerships, and this court ruling may serve as a critical legal milestone in expanding rights for LGBTQ families.

The case involves Zoryan Kis, first secretary of Ukraine's Embassy in Israel, and his partner Tymur Levchuk, who have lived together since 2013 and were married in the U.S. in 2021.

The court ruled on June 10 that their relationship constitutes a de facto marriage, establishing them as a family under Ukrainian law.

The ruling comes after Ukraine's Foreign Ministry refused to acknowledge Levchuk as Kis' family member, denying him spousal rights to accompany Kis on his diplomatic posting to Israel. In response, the couple filed a legal complaint in September 2024.

In its decision, the court cited both the Ukrainian Constitution and precedents from the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR), which requires states to ensure legal recognition and protection for same-sex families.

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Evidence considered by the court included shared finances, property, witness testimony, joint travel records, photographs, correspondence, and other documents establishing a long-term domestic partnership.

"A very big and important step toward marriage equality in Ukraine, and a small victory in our struggle for 'simple family happiness' for Ukrainian diplomats," Kis wrote on Facebook.

"Now we have a court ruling that confirms the feelings Tymur Levchuk and I have for each other," he added, thanking the judge who heard the case.

Public support for LGBTQ rights in Ukraine has grown in recent years, particularly since the start of Russia's full-scale invasion. According to a 2024 poll by the Kyiv International Institute of Sociology, 70% of Ukrainians believe LGBTQ citizens should have equal rights.

Despite shifting public opinion, legislative progress remains slow. A draft law recognizing civil partnerships, introduced by Holos party lawmaker Inna Sovsun in March 2023, has not advanced in parliament due to a lack of approval from the Legal Policy Committee.

The proposed bill would legalize civil partnerships for both same-sex and heterosexual couples, offering them inheritance, medical, and property rights, but not the full status of marriage.

As Trump ‘loses interest’ in Ukraine, Kyiv scrambles to clarify extent of U.S. military aid pause

When the U.S. Department of Defense (DOD) halted the transfer of critical air defense missiles and other weapons to Ukraine, Kyiv and its partners were caught off-guard and are now left scrambling for clarity on the scope and length of the Trump administration’s decision. The White House confirmed the halt after a July 1 report by Politico said shipments were paused due to concerns over the size of domestic stockpiles. The decision “was made to put America’s interests first following a DOD rev

The Kyiv IndependentAndrea Januta

Ukrainian journalist Vladyslav Yesypenko was released on June 20 after more than four years of detention in Russian-occupied Crimea, Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty reported.

Yesypenko, a freelance contributor to Crimea.Realities, a regional project of RFE/RL's Ukrainian Service, reported on various issues in Crimea before being detained by Russia’s FSB in March 2021.

He was accused of espionage and possession of explosives, charges he denied, and later sentenced to five years in prison by a Russian-controlled court.

Yesypenko said he was tortured, including with electric shocks, to force a confession, and was denied access to independent lawyers for nearly a month after his arrest.

RFE/RL welcomed his release, thanking the U.S. and Ukrainian governments for their efforts. Yesypenko has since left Russian-occupied Crimea.

“Vlad was arbitrarily punished for a crime he didn’t commit… he paid too high a price for telling the truth about occupied Crimea,” said RFE/RL President Steven Kapus.

During his imprisonment, Yesypenko became a symbol of press freedom, receiving several prestigious awards, including the Free Media Award and PEN America’s Freedom to Write Award.

His case drew support from human rights groups, the National Union of Journalists of Ukraine, and international advocates for media freedom.

Russia invaded and unlawfully annexed Crimea in 2014, cracking down violently on any opposition to its regime.

Following Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, the Kremlin toughened its grip on dissent, passing laws in March 2022 that prohibit what authorities label as "false" criticism of Russia's war.

Crimean Tatar freed from Russian captivity: ‘Recognizing Russia’s control of Crimea would legitimize crime’

For nearly two years in Russian captivity, Leniie Umerova clung to a single hope: that one day, she would return home — to Crimea. “I thought about Crimea all the time,” Umerova told the Kyiv Independent. “I dreamed of going there without the permission of the occupying forces, without going through

The Kyiv IndependentDaria Shulzhenko

Last week, Donald Trump was on a glitzy, bonhomous trip through Saudi Arabia, Qatar and the United Arab Emirates. Amidst the talk of hundreds of billions of dollars signed in deals, the rise of Gulf states as potential AI superpowers, and gifts of luxury jetliners, it was announced that the Trump administration had agreed arms deals worth over $3 billion with both Qatar and the UAE.

Democrats are looking to block the deals. Apart from the potential corruption alleged by legislators – the many personal deals the president also inked while on his trip – they criticized the sale of weapons to the UAE at a time when it was prolonging a civil war in Sudan that the U.N. has described as “one of the worst humanitarian crises of the 21st century.”

Earlier this month, a Sudanese politician said Trump’s trip to the Gulf was a “rare opportunity” to make a decisive intervention in a war that is now into its third year. In 2023, the U.S., Saudi Arabia, Sudan’s army and the rebels signed a peace treaty in Jeddah. It lasted a day. Despite the involvement of both Saudi Arabia and the UAE in the conflict – Sudan has accused the UAE of being directly responsible for the May 4 drone attacks on the city of Port Sudan – there was no mention of it during Trump’s visit.

Since April 2023, Sudan has been convulsed by civil war. The fighting – between the Sudanese army and the RSF rebel forces, primarily comprising Janjaweed militias that fought on the side of the army in the Darfur conflict back in 2003 – has cost thousands of lives and displaced over 12 million people. Tens of millions are starving.

In May, the fighting intensified. But on Monday, Sudan’s army chief, Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, announced the appointment of a new prime minister  – career diplomat Kamal Idris. The African Union said Idris’s appointment was a “step towards inclusive governance.” But there is little sign of the fighting stopping. In fact, Port Sudan, where much of the humanitarian aid entered into the country, was targeted in drone attacks this month, forcing the U.N. to suspend deliveries. The Sudanese army has said renewed fighting with the RSF will force it to shut down critical infrastructure that its neighbor South Sudan needs to export its oil. South Sudan’s economy is almost wholly dependent on oil. The threat of economic collapse might force South Sudan, which became independent in 2011, to join in the Sudanese civil war. 

This week, the Trump administration was accused of “illegally” dispatching migrants to South Sudan. A judge said such an action might constitute contempt, but the Department of Homeland Security claimed the men were a threat to public safety. “No country on Earth wanted to accept them,” a spokesperson said, “because their crimes are so uniquely monstrous and barbaric.” The Trump administration’s extraordinary decision to deport migrants to South Sudan, a country on the verge of violent collapse and neighboring a country mired in civil war, is in keeping with his attitude towards the region. The decision, for instance, to shut down USAID only exacerbated the food crisis in Sudan, with soup kitchens closing and a loss of 44% of the aid funding to the country. 

With Trump fitfully engaging in all manner of peace talks, from Gaza to Kyiv to Kashmir, why is Sudan being ignored? Given the transactional nature of Trump’s diplomacy, is it because Sudan has nothing Trump wants? In April, for instance, the Trump administration attempted to broker peace between the Democratic Republic of the Congo and Rwanda in Washington, offering security in exchange for minerals. In this colonial carving up of resources, perhaps Trump is content to let his friends in the UAE control Sudan’s gold mines and ignore a civil war he might otherwise try to stop. 

A version of this story was published in this week’s Coda Currents newsletter. Sign up here.

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