There is an invisible line connecting the holm oak forests of the Castanya valley, in Montseny, with the offices of Canberra and the UN climate summits. This line is the trajectory of Pep Canadell (Sabadell, 1961). Trained at the Autonomous University of Barcelona (UAB) under the tutelage of Jaume Terradas –a direct disciple of Ramon Margalef himself–, he has dedicated his life to building an international scientific alliance capable of putting indisputable figures to the CO₂ that we dump on Earth. After an extreme summer that has once again melted thermometers in Europe, the scientist speaks to ARA from Australia, via video call. Despite being a world authority on climate, he keeps the spirit of that field student intact: he speaks plainly, avoids arrogance, and never tires of reminding us that the Earth is not an inert machine, but a living organism that is beginning to show signs of exhaustion. He has just been recognized with the 22nd Ramon Margalef Award in Ecology 2026, which is awarded annually by the Government of Catalonia.

We live in a global context marked by emotional fragility: more than one billion people live with a mental health diagnosis, according to the World Health Organization. The situation is especially critical in classrooms: one in seven adolescents between 10 and 19 years old suffers from a mental disorder, and suicide is already the third leading cause of death among young people. Faced with this emergency scenario, preventive psychiatry focuses its attention on accessible, zero-cost interventions with an unexpected biological impact. The most powerful of all comes in the form of a book.

The scene repeats itself every summer in thousands of Catalan homes: the light off, the silence of the night and, suddenly, the high-pitched and insistent buzzing that brushes against our ear. The reaction is almost a Pavlovian reflex: we turn on the light, look for the little invader on the wall and, with a sharp blow of a slipper, we put an end to the annoyance. Until recently, this domestic victory returned to us the tranquility of a sleep without bites. Today, however, this gesture hides a much more disturbing reality: the mosquito is no longer just an annoying neighbor,it has become a vector for diseases that until four days ago we considered exotic.Catalonia has entered a new epidemiological era. The dengue outbreak in Vila-seca in the summer of 2024, with eight autochthonous cases, was the definitive alarm signal: the virus no longer just arrives by plane, but circulates among us through the tiger mosquito (Aedes albopictus). This invasive species, recognized by its white stripes and diurnal activity, has joined the common mosquito (Culex pipiens), the traditional one, which is nocturnal and acts as the main transmitter of the West Nile virus. As explained by researcher Rachel Lowe, director of the Global Health Resilience group at the Barcelona Supercomputing Center (BSC-CNS), "Barcelona is a global hub with a high risk of emergence or re-emergence of various pathogens". According to Lowe, rising temperatures and changing rainfall patterns create a "perfect cocktail" for the expansion of these vectors.

Every June 8th, World Oceans Day invites us to reflect on the health of this vast blue frontier that regulates life on Earth. This year, the anniversary arrives with an air of cautious victory following the historic adoption by the UN of the High Seas Treaty, a legal framework designed to protect biodiversity in waters that do not belong to any country and which represent two-thirds of the marine surface. However, to understand the global health of the ocean, sometimes one must look at what is small.

One of the news stories that has shaken the international conscience this week is that 18 workers from Doctors Without Borders (MSF) have been reported for sexual abuse of all kinds against refugee women in South Sudan in exchange for food. What happens to human nature that someone is capable of exercising this violence against those who have nothing?

“I have spent forty years performing a script that was not my own.” This is how writer and communicator Sara Codina, author of Neurodivina i punt, summarizes the vital void prior to her autism diagnosis. For decades, Codina carried the guilt of feeling like a “broken neurotypical,” a defective piece unable to understand the rules of the world. This daily theater to fit in makes female autism seem like a statistical rarity when, in reality, it is a condition hidden behind a social and genetic shield.