Higher education is currently navigating one of the most significant transitions in its modern history. Artificial intelligence is rapidly reshaping how knowledge is accessed, produced, assessed, and communicated. Universities are under increasing pressure to respond quickly, integrate new technologies, and prepare students for an uncertain future. In many universities, AI is being discussed primarily as a technological or academic integrity issue, but on the ground, the real

Watching foreign films, TV shows, and reading books from other cultures is a way to train, expand and broaden our cultural intelligence. Some years ago, I found myself reflecting on the transformative power of foreign narratives. Having spent much of my life traveling, living, and studying in diverse countries, I’ve always been drawn to the rich tapestry of human culture. My career, particularly my work with immigrants, refugees, and expats, has deepened this connection.

Here's some deep thoughts on intercultural teaching and the creative spark within human difference. In my work across cultures and higher education environments, I have noticed something both simple and profound: Every genuine intercultural encounter contains the possibility of expanding how we think. Sometimes this happens in obvious ways:a classroom discussion suddenly shifts because a student interprets a concept through an entirely different cultural lens.

Let’s say it honestly: university lecturers hold a profoundly important role in shaping not only knowledge, but also human development, intellectual confidence, and the quality of how people learn to engage with complexity and difference. Although many academics enter universities primarily as researchers, specialists, and creators of knowledge, teaching still carries a deeply human responsibility. Let's explore this a little deeper.

Years down the track, I came to realise that my time with the Reggio Emilia method taught me that teaching, when lived fully, is not about control but about culture: a living dialogue between people, ideas, creation, and place. In the Reggio Emilia method, a classroom is called an atelier, meaning a “studio of becoming.” That phrase stayed with me long after I left Italy. Ideally, this is how an auditorium should feel in higher education.

For me, experiencing the Reggio Emilia institutions in Italy was extraordinary, and it left a deep mark on my educational philosophy moving forward. It revealed that education is not only about transferring knowledge; it is about shaping belonging, identity, and connection. These schools embodied the idea that creativity is not a luxury. It is how communities rebuild. It is how learners find their voice, and how societies imagine and build their future.

This article explores the risks of outsourcing thinking to AI in higher education. Drawing on cognitive science and educational psychology, it explains how deep learning depends on effort, reflection, and relational engagement. It highlights the role of university lecturers in protecting cognitive development, academic integrity, and independent thinking in an AI-driven learning environment where efficiency increasingly replaces understanding.

Ancient Malta’s Hypogeum reveals how Neolithic societies engineered the brain for learning, empathy, and long-term thinking. Combining archaeology, neuroscience, and cultural history, Louise Sommer explores how past reward systems shaped human potential — and what we can learn to design better education, leadership, and social systems today. A thought-provoking read for researchers, educators, and innovators.

In a world that increasingly demands innovation, adaptability, and clarity, we often forget that the most powerful solutions come from the ability to think across disciplines. Over the years, I’ve come to realise that my most meaningful work doesn’t live in a single domain. It lives in the spaces between where psychology meets art, where teaching becomes design, and where coaching becomes a shared language of empowered learning. This is what I call creative intelligence in mo

In a time where technology is reshaping education, leadership, and even identity, I believe we need a deeper conversation about the emotional, relational, and creative layers of learning. Whether you’re an educator, researcher, leader, or creative thinker, my aim is to offer ideas that support your voice, your presence, and your impact. Many of the ideas in this article are rooted in my real-world experience from working with researchers and thought leaders.

In an age of fast-paced digital consumption and curated perfection, there are rare artists who touch something deeper. Someone, who remind us of the raw, unfiltered beauty of life itself. Jonna Jinton is one such artist. A Swedish creative powerhouse, she has captured hearts across the globe through an unwavering commitment to authenticity, cultural honesty, and an artistic dance with her heritage that is as real as the northern winds that sweep through her village.

Once upon a time, in a tiny kitchen, in the heart of Paris, a woman named Rachel Khoo, opened a jar of mustard, stirred up a sauce, and with a flick of her red lips and a glint in her eye, inspired a creative revolution. Not just in her viewers’ kitchens, but in their hearts. I was one of them! And I have been a huge fan of Rachel Khoo ever since. So, I bought duck. I zested oranges. I baked cakes with names I couldn’t pronounce. And I cooked for the people I love.