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Science & Technology

Searching for life beyond Earth

What does it mean to be alive? Could life exist elsewhere in the universe, and if so, how would we recognize it? 

On Jan. 14, 2025, Dr. Michael L. Wong, Postdoctoral Fellow at Carnegie Science’s Earth & Planets Laboratory, addressed these mysteries during a seminar at the Trottier Space Institute (TSI) at McGill. Wong’s talk, titled Pondering Our Place in the Universe, showcased his interdisciplinary approach, blending planetary science, data science, and philosophy. 

Wong began his presentation by framing the core questions of astrobiology: How does life emerge? And what makes a planet habitable? These questions, he argued, demand a multidimensional approach to better understand life’s inherent complexity. 

Earth’s distinct atmosphere

One of the key focuses of Wong’s research is atmospheric chemistry. Earth’s atmospheric network is distinct from those of other planets. This could be because Earth’s atmosphere reflects a combination of its biosphere and technosphere—the part of the environment made up or modified by humans. Together, these two unique features form a technobiosphere

“Earth’s atmospheric network is the most non-random network we’ve observed,” Wong noted. 

This means that although everything in the universe is formed randomly, our atmosphere has the most non-random biochemistry that would be conducive to harbouring life. 

This begs the question: Does life reorganize matter in a universal manner? And if so, it raises intriguing possibilities for identifying biosignatures—chemical traces of life—in the atmospheres of exoplanets.

How do we detect life? 

The next part of Wong’s talk focused on methods to detect life beyond Earth. One method is the use of Pyrolysis Gas Chromatography-Mass Spectrometry (Pyrolysis GCMS), which uses heat to separate the chemical components of a sample to then analyze it. This approach, Wong explained, offers several advantages: Minimal sample preparation, versatility in extreme environments, and low energy requirements. 

“If there is life on an alien world, it will not exhibit the exact same biochemistry as Earth,” Wong emphasized. 

By training machine learning algorithms on a diverse range of biotic and abiotic samples, Wong’s team achieved an impressive 90 per cent accuracy rate in determining whether a sample contained evidence of life. However, challenges remain, particularly when identifying fossilized life or life concealed within mixtures of abiotic components

Ethics of the Cosmos

Wong advocates for the development of astrobioethics, an ethical framework to guide humanity’s exploration of outer space. With private companies, such as SpaceX, accelerating the path to space travel, Wong urged the audience to consider what constitutes moral value in the cosmos. 

“We have an obligation to respect that which is morally valuable,” Wong explained. “The big question is, what actually constitutes moral value in outer space?” 

Should intrinsic value be assigned only to living entities, or do non-living structures with innate complexity deserve moral consideration? These questions are crucial to answer as humans prepare to venture into extraterrestrial environments. 

Looking to the Future

From missions like NASA’s Europa Clipper and Dragonfly to the potential for sample-return missions from Mars and Enceladus, Wong highlighted the exciting opportunities that lie ahead. 

“These missions could revolutionize our understanding of life in the universe,” he said.

Moving forward, Wong hopes to partner with space agencies to continue searching for signs of life in the cosmos. He also aims to bring more attention to the field of astrobioethics to fuel moral discussions on space exploration and interaction with the universe. 

Wong’s seminar offered a thought-provoking mix of innovative science and deep philosophical reflection. By pushing the boundaries of planetary science and ethics, he is paving the way for humanity’s search for life beyond Earth. 

“Astrobiology doesn’t just answer questions about life elsewhere,” Wong concluded. “It helps us better understand what it means to be alive here.”

Arts & Entertainment, Film and TV

‘Squid Game’ wins again

If offered bread or a lottery ticket, which would you choose? Now imagine this question is posed only to students who are hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt. Which would they choose?

Released on Dec. 26, Squid Game Season 2 follows Seong Gi-hun (Lee Jung-Jae) as he attempts to dismantle the Squid Game, a competition in which players must compete in childhood games for a prize of 35.6 billion ₩ (over $45 million CAD). Winners take home the money while losers die, and each player’s death increases the prize money for the remaining players. Contestants are cherry-picked for having hefty debts; most are motivated to play to escape a life of poverty, pay off medical expenses, or recover from an unlucky gamble. In his efforts to undermine the games, Seong becomes trapped in them instead. Losing contact with his militant team on the outside, he must confront the game’s organizer, the Front Man (Lee Byung-hun), on his own.

The first season premiered to unprecedented acclaim, and so far, Season 2 has been nominated for a Golden Globe and reached 152.5 million views on Netflix. Along with near-universal praise, the success of the first Squid Game  led to a reality television spin-off and the second earned a Google Doodle. The cinematography is breathtaking; one could get lost analyzing the lighting, colour, and contrast used in a single frame. Lee’s performance of Seong is particularly captivating as he embraces his character’s duality: Vengeful and strategic, yet frustrated and desperate. In Season 1, Seong is motivated by self-preservation, a few friends, and fortune; in Season 2, Lee expertly captures the transition to a character who is now fighting for all of the players’ survival.

This season’s antagonist is no longer fellow competitors, but the Squid Game itself and those in charge of the operation. It mimics the plots of films like the Matrix and Hunger Games: Catching Fire, where in the midst of violent conflict, both the audience and underdog characters have to “remember who the real enemy is.”  Squid Game Season 2 excels in highlighting the humanity of individual players, ensuring the audience never forgets that the players are not the criminals—the games are the true perpetrators. Squid Game Season 2’s antagonist inversion not only creates plenty of action-packed and gory scenes, but it also reveals an obvious commentary about the exploitation of desperation among impoverished and indebted people in society. Characters that would have been received as villains in the first season, like the pink-suited soldiers hired to oversee and kill players, are made tragic and even sympathetic as their despair is equally as preyed upon as the heroes.

However, while side character spotlights and side plots allowed the audience to focus on the players’ humanity rather than just that of the main characters, the expanding side characters failed to create a clear fan favourite. Viewers can empathize with every side character subject to the cruelty of the game, but each side character doesn’t have enough screen time to make their deaths nearly as emotionally devastating as in the first season.

A striking feature of this season is the increased representation of marginalized people within Korean society, featuring side characters such as a North Korean defector, individuals experiencing drug addiction, and a transgender woman, Cho Hyun-ju (Park Sung-hoon).  Cho entered the games to acquire money for gender-affirming care, and is unfailingly heroic and caring. Though Cho represents a big step for the representation of 2SLGBTQIA+ characters in Korean media, the character would have been more accurately portrayed by a transgender actress.

Squid Game Season 2 is a masterclass in suspenseful pacing, creative cinematography, and mesmerizing performance, prompting the audience to empathize with those whom society leaves behind.
Squid Game Season 2 is now available on Netflix.

Off the Board, Opinion

Making someplace a home 

Over the course of my 21 years of life, I’ve lived in nine different houses/apartments; three countries; five cities. But until recently, I couldn’t tell you if I’ve ever lived somewhere I’d call home.

By Merriam-Webster’s definition, “home” refers to one’s place of residence, and also as “the social unit formed by a family living together.” I had the luxury of living in various places and growing up comfortably. I never lacked the essentials, and I was given every opportunity to explore my interests and identity with my parents’ unwavering love and support.

But there’s always been a gap. When my friends talked about their long-standing relationships with their friends and families—visiting grandparents over the weekends, spending holidays with their extended families—I knew this would never be an experience I could share. Moving around as much as I did, the idea of being best friends with my cousins or living next door to friends for so many years that we basically became siblings wasn’t feasible for me.

For all these types of interpersonal relationships, I generally knew but one: A promising—but casual—new friendship cut short by my family’s next move. Though it is now possible to keep in touch over social media, this option was not one I had access to as a child. Besides, nothing comes close to in-person connection; over time and separated by a phone, it seemed my presence in my extended family’s and casual friends’ minds would eventually fade.

Every move, I would make new friends, and after a couple years, we would move again. I felt a piece of myself stay behind with every changing town. Until I was a teenager, I felt like no one cared about me as much as they did their other friends; and how could I blame them? I wasn’t physically there.

My heart has been separated into so many segments, each one being left in different regions and experiences with people who I’ll never see or meet again. So how can home be where the heart is if my heart is fragmented into all these pieces?

If I could never stay in one place long enough to establish a home, what was the point in relentlessly trying to make one? As a result, I avoided over-personalizing my spaces, knowing it was but a few years until I would have to tear down the decorations and repaint the walls. Establishing intimate connections felt similarly futile, as I would eventually have to tear myself away from everyone I’d met anyway. 

As a student and an immigrant, I’ve always felt like I didn’t quite belong anywhere I went. So I’ve had to learn to find the feeling of home in places other than my residence—I’ve been searching for it in the love around me.

The compassion and love my friends and family have shown me created a home in themselves. My friend and her mom once drove 16 hours total from Toronto to Stamford, Connecticut for a weekend visit; my Whitby friends have driven up to Montreal at least twice a year for nearly four years now. With sleeping bags and air mattresses sprawled on the cold floor of my tiny studio apartment, I’m reminded that I’ll likely never find friends like these again.

Though my scenery changes constantly, I will always cherish my chosen family.

So why should I deprive myself of the joy of having a home that’s my own, filled with colourful ceramic dishes, thrifted crystal lamps, and the laughter of my loved ones? With every hand-me-down from my family, personal trinket, or thoughtful act from my friends, I bring a bit of everything—and everyone—I’ve experienced into every place I go, and, in the process, I leave a piece of myself in every place I’ve been. 

With my turbulent living arrangements, I felt like I would never know stability and community; but, with every year, I’m thankful for the tumultuous moves, as every step has been bringing me closer to something that I might someday call home.

Commentary, Opinion

A rejection of New Year’s resolutions

Happy 2025. If you are like most Type A students at McGill, chances are you made a list of New Year’s resolutions. Perhaps you’ve also made a mood board, a list of predictions for the year, and a to-do list for the past week. You are not alone. About 49 per cent of young adults aged 18-29 made at least one resolution in 2024. Unfortunately, only about eight per cent of people who make such resolutions accomplish them. 

Many people who fail to meet their resolutions reportedly do so because their expectations are unrealistic. At the core of New Year’s resolutions lies an obsession with achievements, leading people to evaluate time well spent based on what they can accomplish. 

What if, instead of adding to a list of unattainable goals, we got comfortable with trying to achieve less—where might that take us? Would it be so bad to do nothing new and be comfortable with who we already are? Adopting an approach of contentment would emphasize that our lives do not ultimately rely on how many things we accomplish; existing as a human being in the world is more than enough.

The time we have on this Earth is limited. By focusing on our potential future accomplishments, we remain perpetually unsatisfied and unable to appreciate the beauty of the present moment. New Year’s resolutions, as is the case with most goals, exist in the future. While we can take steps in the present to accomplish such goals, our idealized fixation would remain future-oriented—unsatisfied with what currently is and always wanting more as a result. 

Ambition is certainly not a bad thing, but when we set so many goals for ourselves, we fail to admire the beauty of the world in front of us and inside of us. Conversely, rejecting the temptation to add New Year’s resolutions to our endless to-do list compels us to reckon with the boredom and overwhelming vastness of our existence. This can be uncomfortable for many people, a fact that inspires their pursuit of a variety of external outlets to stay occupied. Some resort to books, video games, sports, alcohol, school, work, or resolutions. While some may be more or less positive than others, they are all distractions. After all, being alone with one’s thoughts can be a scary place for so many, and rightly so. 

Our assumed obligation to productivity and self-improvement can feel even more overwhelming when considering the overstimulation of our globalized world. We live in an hyper-connected world in which we can take cross the globe in hours, reach any friend any time with one text or call, or order a new pair of shoes online to be delivered the next day.. New Year’s resolutions tend to fall prey to similar delusions of attainability. But time and effort are not unlimited, and there is only so much we can—or should—try to accomplish. This is a cold, hard truth, but a truth nonetheless. 

By giving up on the goal of perpetual self-improvement, we can find a new sense of worth that does not regard our human experience as a means to an end, but rather an end in itself. So what if we don’t get the perfect GPA, land the best summer internship, attain the killer body, follow the healthiest diet, or amass the highest savings? In the grand schemes of our lives, these goals are almost meaningless, especially in comparison to this beautiful thing we call life; it is inherently precious, and there is nothing we need to accomplish to make it more valuable than it already is.

Off the Board, Opinion

I’ve had enough of yearning

When I open X, Instagram, or Substack looking for something to read, I am often confronted with a series of textbites:

it’s yearning hours what’re y’all yearning for tn

big year for yearning, longing, pining, and obsessing

my playlist for yearning and sighing this month

I don’t know about you, reader, but these make me want to put my fist through some drywall. “Yearning” is yet another in a series of internet buzzwords to grip the nation. Google searches for “yearning” and “longing” have been on the climb for the past two years. The uptick matches a similar swing in melancholic media, with releases like Past Lives and All of Us Strangers, and of course, Normal People, especially the quote: “Marianne had the sense that her real life was happening somewhere very far away, happening without her, and she didn’t know if she would ever find where it was or become part of it.” On social media, Tiktoks about Sylvia Plath’s fig tree abound.

So, why are we yearning? There seems to be a collective sense of deprivation: Years lost to the pandemic, unfulfilled promises of adulthood, wages which buy less than they ought to. Fewer friends, fewer parties, less sex. Endless hours moping in bed, considering our bored disillusionment with adulthood. Sigh. Yearn.

Many people are fine with being home all day, or almost all the time. It’s okay to rot in bed, to want to rot in bed, to normalize that stasis instead of actively seeking fulfillment. This new attitude wouldn’t be a problem if everyone was happy. But I see the emergence of internet yearning as psychological displacement, a hernia-like, Freudian bubble of dissatisfaction.

In Cruel Optimism, author Lauren Berlant postulates that media trends reflect our attempts to represent affect, to create art which encapsulates the way life feels. Berlant explains that the modern individual feels unsteady, without a rewarding job or pension plan, stable government or a nuclear family. All this ‘yearnposting’ seems like a cultural reaction to our feeling of emptiness and absence. Many relationships—platonic, romantic, economic—feel unreciprocated, unconsummated. They offer little, promise nothing at all, or fall short of what you would want. So, we offer less of ourselves in return. It’s simpler this way. When the world is intolerable, you can always go to bed. Embracing dissatisfaction is easier than reshaping your life. 

And yet: The advent of yearning is evidence that despite our efforts to detach, we still crave meaningful connections and relationships. So, what do we do?

Berlant’s work offers a possible avenue. They argue “all attachment is optimistic,” because it forces us to enter the world. Attachment brings “the satisfying something that you cannot generate on your own but sense in the wake of a person, a way of life, an object, project, concept, or scene.” The opposite of yearning is satisfaction—optimistic attachment provides direction, pointing us toward places that can offer meaning when we cannot create it for ourselves. 

Longing is inherent to the human condition, but the emotion itself is not the beginning and end of experience. Yearning should be a catalyst, a forward step in the broader quest for self-actualization. Your desires should not confine you to your bed but lead you forward. As Berlant advises, the things we long for—people, projects, scenes—are guideposts for where we should invest our time, new places we could attach. Our emotions can be a tool for change, if we allow them to be. Yearning should make you do terrifying, embarrassing, rewarding things. It should overpower the lull of routine, shock you out of complacency. If you feel the pang of absence, don’t post about it. Don’t waste time normalizing or examining the feeling. Start looking for what’s missing.


As Maggie Nelson says in Bluets, “When I was alive, I aimed to be a student not of longing but of light.” Do not become a student of your longing. Go looking for the light.

News, SSMU

Provisional injunction against SSMU Policy Against Antisemitism has expired

The Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU)’s proposed Policy Against Antisemitism sparked intense debates at Fall 2024 Legislative Council meetings, and ultimately faced legal contestation when it was passed on Dec. 5. A Dec. 9 court-ordered injunction prohibiting the policy’s ratification ultimately expired on Dec. 19, allowing the SSMU’s Board of Directors (BoD) to potentially pass the policy this semester.

According to SSMU Vice-President (VP) External Affairs Hugo-Victor Solomon, the proposed Policy Against Antisemitism intends to bridge gaps in SSMU legislation to more sensitively and rigorously address the many forms of antisemitism among SSMU members. A draft of the Policy was initially presented during the Oct. 24 SSMU Legislative Council meeting as a notice of motion. Solomon reported that he had requested consultation on this draft from stakeholders such as McGill’s Hillel, Chabad, Chavurah, Independent Jewish Voices, and the Jewish Studies Students’ Association. Members of some of these groups expressed concerns that the Policy did not use the working definition of antisemitism established by the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance. Solomon stated that some of these members then met with SSMU President Dymetri Taylor.

“[They] told the President that all of the executives needed to immediately step down, that they needed to issue an immediate statement apologizing,” Solomon said on if the motion passed.

Taylor wrote to The Tribune that he neither agreed nor disagreed when approached with these requests.

The Policy motion was then debated without approval at Nov. 7 and Nov. 21 Legislative Council meetings, during and between which councillors proposed amendments to the Policy. These recommendations led to the Legislative Council removing multiple passages from the Policy by the end of the Nov. 21 session

One of these amendments removed the phrase “between the river and the sea” from the Policy, which had appeared in a clause stating that support for full legal equality for all inhabitants of Israel’s geographic locale would not be considered antisemitic. Solomon explained the removal followed criticism from some McGill Jewish groups.

“Groups like Hillel McGill requested that this phrase be removed in a public letter,” Solomon told The Tribune. “Students felt like that was an attempt to legitimate or provide some kind of tacit support for a political slogan, and as I was able to find other language that accomplished the exact same goal, but without the part of that slogan […] it was removed.”

The Policy was again discussed during the Dec. 5 Legislative Council meeting, unchanged from its Nov. 21 form. The Policy was passed with 16 members in favour of the motion, six against, and two abstaining. 

Less than 24 hours later, lawyers Neil Oberman and Michael Hollander sent the SSMU a demand letter on behalf of groups including McGill’s Jewish Law Students’ Association, Hillel, Chabad, and Israel on Campus. Oberman and Hollander alleged that the vote on the Policy had occurred incorrectly and lobbied for its withdrawal, claiming that affected individuals had not all been properly consulted by SSMU, nor given proper notice that the motion would potentially be passed.

Both parties’ lawyers attended court on Dec. 9, where a judge granted Oberman and Hollander’s request for a provisional injunction against the Policy, set to expire on Dec. 19. SSMU then sent Oberman and Hollander an affidavit alleging that the lawyers had relied on outdated SSMU governance regulations from 2021 to make their case. Oberman and Hollander thus allowed the injunction against the Policy to expire on Dec. 19, requesting that SSMU inform the plaintiff side when the BoD will next vote on the Policy. Taylor confirmed that SSMU executives have not yet established this BoD date while the Policy is reviewed by their lawyers. 

“The SSMU has already approved a budget of $1,000 [CAD] to get a review of the Policy, just to ensure that there are no potential legal concerns, whether those be internal to the SSMU, or external to Quebec law, to ensure that no one’s rights are being invalidated,” Taylor told The Tribune

“As the matter is pending before the courts I cannot comment on it,” Hollander wrote to The Tribune

Representatives from McGill’s Jewish Law Students’ Association, Hillel, Chabad, and Israel on Campus did not respond to The Tribune’s requests for comment regarding the lawsuit.

Sports, Volleyball

Martlets volleyball push through countless long rallies to beat Laval in five-set game

After a surprise victory against previously undefeated Université de Sherbrooke Vert et Or just two days prior, Martlets volleyball (8–9) took to Love Competition Hall on Jan. 12 for a game against Université Laval Rouge et Or. Despite a tough 16-25 loss in the fourth set, McGill triumphed in the final set, winning 15-9. 

Following a strong first set by McGill, Rouge et Or had fought back to win a close second set. With Laval in the lead midway through the third set, McGill began regaining momentum. Decisive hits from outside hitter Rachel Leduc, U3 Management, and strong serves from setter Selima Guidara, U2 Arts, helped the team regain their lead and win the third set 25-21. 

Rouge et Or went on to dominate the fourth set, beginning and ending with long serving runs as the Martlets’s defence waned. In spite of this, McGill claimed an early lead in the fifth set, going 3-0 and forcing Laval to an early timeout. Although Laval managed to regain their footing and fought hard for long rallies, the Martlets powered through to take the final set.

In an interview with The Tribune, Leduc explained that, despite the challenging fourth set, the team went into the final one energized and focused on winning. 

“We really prioritized staying calm, and every point felt like a victory,” Leduc said. “We were going one point at a time, and then as soon as we hit eight first, […] I think we kind of knew we had it in the bag, but we kept our calm.”

Head Coach Rachèle Béliveau explained that the win against Vert et Or on Friday had served as an important motivator for the team going into the game, especially as over half of the team’s players are currently sick. 

“I tried to just keep the energy so that when it was time to push, that we would have the push and then try to recover in the little moments we had,” Béliveau said. “So I’m very proud of them, because it was a really tough situation to deal with, playing […] two of the best teams in the league, and being able to come out with a win.”

Renewed confidence wasn’t the only thing the team took from Friday’s match; Leduc highlighted that during the game against Sherbrooke, the team had experimented with their normal lineup, with position changes such as setter Charlotte Chouinard-Laliberte, U3 arts, hitting right-side. As these changes proved effective in the match against Vert et Or, the Martlets adopted the same strategy going into the Laval game. 

“It was kind of a risk, but it worked really well,” Leduc said. “We’ve always known that [Chouinard-Laliberte] was a good hitter, but she never tried it in a game, so having her on the right side helped.”

Guidara—who had a career-high 45 assists during the game—noted that the Martlets hope to use the momentum from these wins to reach their goal of making the Réseau du sport étudiant du Québec playoffs later in the season. The team is currently sitting in fifth place, with the top four teams moving on to playoffs in February.

“We have an underdog mentality. You know, we’re a young team, [and] we won against some of the best teams,” Guidara said. “I feel like right now, nothing is impossible, and we could make it to playoffs.”

Moment of the game:

Martlet power hitter Elyssa Lajmi claimed back-to-back kills early on in the fifth set, reenergizing the team and the home crowd toward the end of the game. 

Stats corner:

Four players had double-digit kills throughout the game: Lajmi, Leduc, middle blocker Emilia Grigorova, and Chouinard-Laliberte.

Quotable:

“I think we just stepped on the court trusting ourselves and trusting every girl, and knowing what we were capable of doing Friday against a top-ranked team.” — Selima Guidara, on the team’s attitude before the game.

The Martlets will return to the court on Jan. 19 to play against École de technologie Supérieureat Love Competition Hall.

Emerging Trends, Local Stories, Student Life

New year, same us: Resolutions McGill students didn’t make for 2025

Perhaps you spent Dec. 31 writing down your New Year’s resolutions with the best handwriting your journal has seen in months. Maybe that impressive penmanship was a first impression for the fresh notebook you bought yourself, committed to the first page of your year of self-improvement. Or maybe, like many other students, you lived Wednesday, Jan. 1 just as you did Tuesday, Dec. 31—without a list of lofty intentions. If your start of 2025 has lacked the transformative energy you think it should have, you are not alone. Here are five New Year’s resolutions McGill students didn’t make this year. 

Stop drinking

For Alex Gagnon, U2 Engineering, the goal to drink less didn’t make it onto her resolution list—not because it’s a bad idea, but because life has other plans. 

“I’m not doing Dry January because I know I have a bunch of events that include drinking, especially E-Week,” she said. 

At McGill, where social life is tied to drinking culture, abstaining from alcohol can feel like sitting out half the fun. And maybe that’s okay. There won’t be many opportunities like E-Week after our time in university, so for now, skipping a Dry January in favour of a moderately misty one doesn’t seem so bad. 

Better sleep

For many students, the elusive “seven to eight hours a night” often feels like a luxury rather than a necessity. Adele Omichinski, U2 Engineering, isn’t losing any sleep over skipping this resolution. 

“As a student, it’s not attainable, and I have too many things to do,” she said. “If I want to do all the things I want to do, then I can’t get all the sleep that I need.”

Between juggling coursework, extracurriculars, and a social life, sleep often feels like the first thing to go. If your schedule doesn’t always afford you eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, perhaps the true resolution should be mastering the art of the occasional power nap.

Healthier eating

“I never have time to actually cook good meals,” admitted Michael Beyrouthy, U2 Engineering. “I’m stuck eating Kraft Mac and Cheese and stuff like that.”

It’s a sentiment many students can relate to. When you’re racing between classes and assignments, balanced home-cooked meals seem like a distant fantasy, attainable only to your parents and Nara Smith. On top of this, the high cost of food on campus and in the city makes healthier eating an even greater challenge.

However, there are some affordable options for students. Initiatives like the Midnight Kitchen offer free, healthy meals, and budget-friendly grocery stores like Segal’s provide staples at more affordable prices. These resources can help students strike a balance between cost, time, and nutrition. 

Language learning

For U2 Engineering student Robinson Libman, a native French speaker, language learning has taken a backseat this year. Although he used to aim to “speak English as much as possible,” he explained. “I think I’ve improved enough in the past few years. Also, we’re in Quebec.” 

Fair point. Between navigating bilingual conversations and deciphering Montreal street signs, McGill students are already living a language-learning crash course daily. The new year brings just as much linguistic challenge as the last, so perhaps there’s no need to formalize any language learning goals. 

More exercise 

Ah, the classic “I’m going to go to the gym more this year” resolution. For some, like Amanda Klunowski, U3 Arts, it’s a well-worn path that no longer leads to motivation. 

“I didn’t make any resolutions regarding going to the gym,” she shared. “If you’re going to make a resolution about it, you’re probably going to give it up anyway. I feel like it’s kind of a self-defeating prophecy.”

Let’s face it: Sometimes the pressure to turn a goal into a resolution is the fastest way to make it feel like a chore.

McGill, News

School of Continuing Studies becomes McGill’s fourth faculty union

In a less than 60-day process, on Dec. 31, Quebec’s Tribunal Administratif du Travail certified the Association of McGill Academic Staff of the School of Continuing Studies (AMASCS), forging the fourth faculty union at McGill. The School of Continuing Studies (SCS) marks the first faculty to bid for unionization following a Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) from Oct. 6 between McGill and the university’s inaugural union, the Association of McGill Professors of Law (AMPL). 

The MoU brought an end to over 13 weeks of AMPL strikes which delayed the start of the law faculty’s Fall term by over a month. In return, McGill dropped its contestation efforts of AMPL’s certification and abandoned efforts to block the certification of two other faculty unions—the Association of McGill Professors of Education (AMPE) and the Association of McGill Professors of the Faculty of Arts (AMPFA). 

Another central aspect of the MoU was the agreement to form a confederation for collective bargaining between faculty unions and McGill. According to the McGill Media Relations Office, the confederation would “establish a grouping of unions to negotiate university-wide working conditions for instructors.” Under this system, faculty-specific issues would be negotiated with individual unions, whereas broader issues would be negotiated across the entire confederation. 

Talks to unionize in the SCS emerged in October, explained AMASCS interim Vice President Margaret Levey, and quickly progressed with a supermajority of academic staff in the school signing membership cards. The union applied for certification on Nov. 15. 

In 2021, SCS underwent organizational restructuring “to strike a balance between adaptability and flexibility on the one hand, and stability and consistency on the other,” Carola Weil, Dean of Continuing Studies, wrote in a proposal to the McGill Senate. According to the proposal, these changes were preceded by extensive community consultation. However, Levey and her colleague John Gradek claimed that not only was there minimal consultation, but also that the restructuring added undue layers of bureaucracy which have posed challenges to faculty in the school.

“We are not Arts, we are not Science, we are not Management, we are not Engineering. We are a School of Continuing Studies,” Gradek said. “And to me, that moniker means that we are there to be an extension of what the McGill brand ought to look like [….] What we see happening is that there’s been a strong push, in my opinion, by the current leadership of the School of Continuing Studies to be considered a faculty and with that approach, it’s changed who we are, and it’s changed our mission, and it’s changed how the marketplace sees us.”

Levey told The Tribune that once she and Gradek began discussing the potential of unionization with other faculty members, they found that many of their colleagues faced similar challenges.

“It’s hard for one person to say, ‘No, I reject this as part of my mandate.’ But collectively, if we were all reject it as part of our mandate, then that has a certain weight to it,” Levey said.

Between the restructuring, federal and provincial restrictions on immigration, and McGill’s projected upcoming financial deficit, AMASCS organizers felt it was crucial to have a seat at the table in discussing the future of the school. 

“[I felt like] we’re in danger if we don’t actually […] push back and say, ‘No, we have the right to be involved in this. We’re going to negotiate the right to be involved in the division of the school.’ If we don’t do that, I don’t think we’re going to survive,” Levey said.

Before the confederation can begin negotiating collective agreements with McGill, it must determine a democratic voting system and which subject matters will be negotiated across the unions. AMPL Vice President Kirsten Anker welcomed AMASCS, expressing that the lack of contestation from McGill marks a shift in labour relations at the university.

“The effect of our strike in the fall was to change the culture of faculty unionization at McGill. We’re seeing that it’s quickly led to certification of three other unions and we expect that that’s going to continue,” Anker said. “[We’re] just very happy that this is a significant change of union culture at McGill.”

To Gradek, the lack of contestation from McGill is not necessarily a change in attitude toward unionization efforts but rather a recognition of their existence.

“I think the university has come to the conclusion that […] unionization of its academic staff is inevitable. It’s not worth fighting because it’s going to be [futile].”

Behind the Bench, Rugby, Sports

Ilona Maher’s smashing debut for the Bristol Bears captivates a record-breaking crowd

On Jan. 5, rugby superstar Ilona Maher made her debut appearance for the Bristol Bears against defending league champions Gloucester-Hartpury. Despite the team’s loss (17-40), Maher’s first performance with the Bears was a great success. Following her signing back in early December, the Bears moved the match to a bigger stadium due to the high volume of ticket sales. The match attracted 9,240 fans, doubling the club’s previous match attendance record and breaking the attendance record for a single Premiership Women’s Rugby (PWR) regular-season match.

Maher’s name is recognized by more than just rugby fanatics across the globe. She’s known for her performance at the 2024 Paris Olympics, playing rugby sevens for Team USA, where she led the team to its first-ever bronze medal. Beyond her impressive athletic resume, Maher’s popularity has grown through her social media presence, particularly on TikTok. With over three million followers on the platform, Maher’s content promotes body positivity by facilitating open discussions about women athletes and the criticism they face when their bodies do not fit societal norms. She has openly discussed the hate she’s received about her body “not being athletic enough,” and shuts down online trolls who bombard her with comments about her Body Mass Index, which they believe to be too high. 

Her platform has allowed her to connect with women athletes worldwide and work to normalize all body types. These discussions have created a wider representation of young women athletes. Maher was featured in a Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition back in September, and her cover showcased athleticism and femininity, showing that to be strong is to be beautiful. The cover is contributing to a shift in popular narratives around women’s beauty standards, with people increasingly understanding that muscular bodies are feminine.

While Maher herself had gained popularity before the 2024 Olympics, her performance at the games helped create a lasting impact on under-represented sports like rugby sevens. The 2024 Olympics featured more niche sports and shed light on women’s teams, allowing for more viewership and visibility. While the Olympics are already widely-anticipated events with many in-person spectators and a large online audience, the 2024 Paris edition had a record-breaking 218 million streams on BBC Sports, which was more than double the streams during the 2021 Tokyo Olympics. More than 84 per cent of the global audience—around five billion people—viewed the games, which became an essential form of exposure for these lesser-known sports.

Viewership is key to promoting under-represented sports, as rugby sevens is sustained by financial investments, for instance. Prior to the 2024 Paris Olympics, the sport received a $4 million USD investment aimed at fostering the growth of rugby and ensuring teams could compete in the 2028 Summer Olympics. Investments like these make the sport more accessible to players and fans alike, encouraging participation and fostering local communities around the game. Moreover, the increased exposure and excitement generated by the Olympics helps attract sponsors and spurs interest by players and audiences to further long-term growth.

Athletes like Maher and the platforms they leverage can further draw people to these niche sports. Connecting fans with their favourite athletes through social media fosters an ongoing bond, offering insight into their day-to-day lives in competition and struggles, while keeping audiences engaged. The Olympics are a platform of visibility to lesser-known sports and athletes, captivating audiences and generating excitement for other aspects of their career—like Maher’s signing to the Bristol Bears. By continuing to connect with her fans, Maher’s social media engagement is just one aspect in which athletes sustain the growth of these lesser-known sports and leagues.

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