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<td><span style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:20px;font-weight:bold;">PsyPost – Psychology News</span></td>
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<td><a href="https://www.psypost.org/coronavirus-anxiety-linked-to-obsessive-healthy-eating-behaviors-during-the-pandemic/" style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing:-1px;margin:0;padding:0 0 2px;font-weight: bold;font-size: 19px;line-height: 20px;color:#222;">Coronavirus anxiety linked to obsessive healthy eating behaviors during the pandemic</a>
<div style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align:left;color:#999;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;line-height:15px;">May 30th 2025, 10:00</div>
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<p><p>New research suggests that anxiety about COVID-19 may have contributed to the development of orthorexia nervosa—an unhealthy obsession with eating “clean” or healthy foods—among adults in the United States. The study, published in <em><a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/00332941251343542" target="_blank">Psychological Reports</a></em>, found that people experiencing high levels of coronavirus anxiety were more likely to report symptoms associated with orthorexia nervosa. In addition, people with lower cognitive flexibility—a psychological trait that helps individuals adapt to stress—were more vulnerable to these symptoms when anxiety was high.</p>
<p>Orthorexia nervosa is a term used to describe a disordered eating pattern marked by an intense, obsessive focus on eating foods perceived to be healthy, pure, or “clean.” Unlike other eating disorders that often revolve around body image or weight loss, orthorexia is primarily driven by the desire to achieve perfect health through dietary control. While eating a balanced, nutritious diet is generally beneficial, orthorexia goes far beyond this.</p>
<p>People with orthorexia may follow rigid food rules that eliminate entire categories of food they view as unhealthy. This might include avoiding anything processed, cutting out carbohydrates, or insisting that all food must be organic, unrefined, or free from additives. Over time, these dietary rules become increasingly strict, and breaking them may lead to intense guilt, anxiety, or shame.</p>
<p>What distinguishes orthorexia from simply wanting to eat well is the degree to which the behavior interferes with daily life. Individuals with orthorexia may spend an excessive amount of time planning meals, researching food sources, and worrying about contamination or imperfection in what they eat. These behaviors can lead to malnutrition, social isolation, and significant psychological distress.</p>
<p>“My interest in orthorexia nervosa stems from the fact that it’s a significantly understudied eating disorder, despite affecting many people who become obsessively preoccupied with ‘healthy’ eating,” said study author Niki Hayatbini, a postdoctoral scholar at the University of Washington’s School of Nursing and Health Studies. “What’s particularly fascinating is that orthorexia often gets overlooked because society tends to view the pursuit of healthy eating as admirable and beneficial, which can mask the underlying psychological distress and functional impairment that individuals actually experience.”</p>
<p>“I became interested in understanding how cognitive functions might contribute to the development of orthorexic symptoms. The limited research on orthorexia—especially regarding cognitive functions like flexibility—presented an exciting opportunity to contribute meaningful knowledge to this field and help fill important gaps in our understanding of this eating disorder.”</p>
<p>The COVID-19 pandemic presented a unique context in which health-related anxieties were widespread and deeply personal. Millions of people faced daily concerns about infection, illness, and death. Previous research has linked anxiety disorders with various eating disorders, and many patients with disordered eating also report high levels of anxiety. The present study set out to explore whether a specific form of pandemic-related anxiety—coronavirus anxiety—was associated with orthorexia symptoms.</p>
<p>Coronavirus anxiety, unlike general concern about COVID-19, involves distressing and often debilitating physiological and emotional reactions to the threat of the virus. Symptoms may include panic-like sensations, obsessive worry, and sleep disturbances, all centered around fear of infection. The researchers hypothesized that individuals high in coronavirus anxiety might develop rigid eating habits as a way of managing perceived health threats, and that reduced cognitive flexibility could exacerbate this relationship.</p>
<p>The researchers recruited 324 adults in the United States in February 2021 through Amazon Mechanical Turk, a crowdsourcing platform. Participants ranged in age from 19 to 75, with a mean age of 38, and were compensated for their participation. Most had some college education, and the sample was racially and economically diverse.</p>
<p>Participants completed several standardized self-report questionnaires. To measure coronavirus-related anxiety, the researchers used the Coronavirus Anxiety Scale, which captures both psychological and physical symptoms of anxiety tied specifically to COVID-19.</p>
<p>“We used the Coronavirus Anxiety Scale (CAS; Lee, 2020), which classifies scores of 9 and above as representing pathological levels of anxiety,” Hayatbini noted. “In our sample, the mean score on the scale was 8.74, with a wide range (SD = 5.08). Our data suggest that some people were experiencing very high levels of anxiety due to the COVID-19 pandemic. This kind of anxiety does not disappear after the stressor is gone and may need attention from trained therapists.”</p>
<p>Orthorexia symptoms were measured using the Eating Habits Questionnaire, which includes subscales for healthy eating knowledge, positive emotions about healthy eating, and problems arising from overly rigid eating behaviors. Cognitive flexibility was assessed using the Cognitive Flexibility Inventory, which evaluates a person’s ability to view challenges from multiple perspectives and perceive stressful situations as manageable.</p>
<p>The researchers also collected information about participants’ body mass index (BMI), education level, income, and whether they had tested positive for COVID-19, as these variables could influence both eating behaviors and anxiety.</p>
<p>The data supported the central hypothesis. Coronavirus anxiety was significantly associated with increased symptoms of orthorexia nervosa. People who scored higher on the Coronavirus Anxiety Scale were more likely to report problems related to healthy eating, such as stress in relationships or disruptions in daily life caused by rigid dietary rules. These individuals were also more likely to believe they knew more than others about healthy eating and to report positive feelings tied to their dietary choices.</p>
<p>The researchers then examined whether cognitive flexibility could explain this relationship. They focused on one dimension of cognitive flexibility—participants’ belief in their ability to manage difficult situations. Those with high coronavirus anxiety tended to have lower scores on this measure, indicating they were less likely to see stressful circumstances as controllable. This in turn predicted more severe problems with orthorexic eating behaviors.</p>
<p>Statistical modeling showed that cognitive flexibility partially mediated the relationship between coronavirus anxiety and orthorexic symptoms. In other words, people who struggled to adapt to stress were more likely to cope with their anxiety by turning to restrictive eating habits. However, this mediation effect was limited to the “problems” subscale of orthorexia. Cognitive flexibility did not explain the relationship between anxiety and positive feelings about healthy eating or knowledge-related beliefs.</p>
<p>“Anxiety about getting sick or dying due to COVID-19 motivated some people to obsess about healthy food,” Hayatbini told PsyPost. “Especially if they were also less flexible in appraising their daily challenges as being controllable. People’s eating habits were altered during the COVID-19 pandemic. Our work shows that high levels of anxiety related to getting sick or dying due to COVID-19 (i.e., coronavirus anxiety) were more likely to make some individuals obsess about eating healthy food.”</p>
<p>“Furthermore, we found that lower levels of cognitive flexibility—specifically, flexibility in appraising everyday challenges as controllable—was a mediator in the relationship between coronavirus anxiety and orthorexia nervosa symptoms. Our work suggests that people who had high levels of coronavirus anxiety along with lower levels of cognitive flexibility were more likely to be burdened by the symptoms of orthorexia nervosa.”</p>
<p>“Psychologists paid attention to those who drank too much or ate unhealthy food during the pandemic,” Hayatbini continued. “But there were people struggling who did not get attention because they were doing the ‘right thing’ by eating healthy. Social media in the year 2021, when we collected our data, was full of postings about people baking bread and eating comfort foods due to the anxiety of the pandemic.”</p>
<p>“However, there were also people who responded to the anxiety of the pandemic by eating healthy food. These people did not get any attention because we associate healthy eating habits with being healthy. Orthorexia nervosa is an eating disorder that challenges this basic assumption. Individuals with orthorexia nervosa become obsessed with eating healthy. Their obsession often becomes debilitating and has a negative impact on their relationships. Our data suggest that in the midst of the pandemic, both anxiety about getting sick or dying from COVID-19, along with reduced cognitive flexibility, contributed to enhancing symptoms of orthorexia nervosa.”</p>
<p>Interestingly, the other component of cognitive flexibility—generating multiple solutions to problems—was not linked to coronavirus anxiety. It was, however, positively correlated with the positive feelings subscale of orthorexia. This unexpected finding suggests that people who are better at considering alternative perspectives may still derive satisfaction from their rigid eating behaviors, potentially viewing them as effective or adaptive during uncertain times.</p>
<p>While the findings are notable, the study has some limitations. The use of self-report measures may not accurately capture behaviors or mental processes, and cross-sectional data cannot establish causality. For example, it is possible that people with orthorexia symptoms became more anxious during the pandemic, rather than anxiety causing the symptoms. Future studies using behavioral tasks and longitudinal designs are needed to clarify these dynamics.</p>
<p>“This is the first study that we know of to examine the relationship between coronavirus anxiety and orthorexia nervosa,” Hayatbini said. “This is a single-point correlational study that used self-report measures. Although our analyses are well powered, the work must be replicated before any firm conclusions can be drawn.”</p>
<p>Another area for future research is the long-term impact of pandemic-related anxiety on eating behaviors. The study showed that the average coronavirus anxiety score was close to the clinical cutoff, with some individuals experiencing significant distress. Understanding whether these elevated anxiety levels lead to persistent disordered eating is a critical question for public health and mental health professionals.</p>
<p>“My long-term goal is to help establish orthorexia nervosa as a legitimate clinical concern that deserves proper recognition and treatment approaches,” Hayatbini explained. “The research on cognitive flexibility in orthorexia has shown conflicting results across different studies, so I want to continue investigating these cognitive mechanisms to better understand how people with orthorexia symptoms process and respond to stressful situations. I hope this research will inform clinical practice and help therapists better support individuals struggling with orthorexia, especially during times of heightened stress or uncertainty, like pandemics.”</p>
<p>“Our study showed that during the pandemic, people experiencing high coronavirus anxiety were more likely to develop problematic relationships with healthy eating, which suggests that orthorexic behaviors can sometimes emerge as maladaptive coping mechanisms during stressful times. Therefore, it’s important for people to understand that orthorexia exists on a spectrum.”</p>
<p>“There is a difference between making healthy food choices and becoming so rigid about ‘clean’ eating that it causes significant distress and interferes with daily life. I’d also like to emphasize that while our findings are promising, they need to be replicated in clinical populations and with longitudinal designs to better understand the causal relationships. This research area is still in its early stages, and we need more studies to fully understand orthorexia and develop effective treatments.”</p>
<p>The study, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/00332941251343542" target="_blank">Coronavirus Anxiety Associated With Heightened Orthorexia Nervosa Symptoms and Reduced Cognitive Flexibility</a>,” was authored by Niki Hayatbini, Katherine Knauft, and Vrinda Kalia.</p></p>
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<td><a href="https://www.psypost.org/a-common-calorie-free-sweetener-alters-brain-activity-and-appetite-control-new-research-suggests/" style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing:-1px;margin:0;padding:0 0 2px;font-weight: bold;font-size: 19px;line-height: 20px;color:#222;">A common calorie-free sweetener alters brain activity and appetite control, new research suggests</a>
<div style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align:left;color:#999;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;line-height:15px;">May 30th 2025, 08:00</div>
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<p><p>Consuming sucralose, a widely used non-caloric sweetener, may influence how the brain regulates hunger and body weight. A new study published in <em><a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s42255-025-01227-8" target="_blank">Nature Metabolism</a></em> found that sucralose increases activity in the hypothalamus—a key brain region involved in appetite regulation—compared to caloric sugar (sucrose) and water. The findings suggest that even though sucralose lacks calories, it can trigger neural responses linked to increased hunger and alter the way the brain communicates with areas involved in motivation and sensory processing.</p>
<p>Sucralose is a popular sugar substitute used in many diet sodas, baked goods, and low-calorie snacks. It provides a sweet taste without adding calories, which makes it attractive for people trying to lose weight or control blood sugar. However, while it may reduce calorie intake in the short term, its effects on appetite and metabolism are not fully understood. Some researchers have speculated that sucralose might confuse the brain’s hunger-regulating circuits by delivering sweetness without the expected nutrients that usually follow sugar intake. This mismatch may disrupt normal appetite control and possibly promote overeating.</p>
<p>To investigate these effects, researchers at the University of Southern California conducted a randomized crossover trial involving 75 young adults between the ages of 18 and 35. The participants included individuals with healthy weight, overweight, and obesity. Each participant attended three separate sessions during which they consumed one of three drinks: a sucralose-sweetened beverage, a sucrose-sweetened beverage with the same level of sweetness, or water as a control. The sessions were spaced at least two days apart, and the order of drinks was randomized and blinded to both participants and experimenters.</p>
<p>Before and after each drink, the researchers used functional MRI to measure blood flow in the hypothalamus and assess brain activity. Increases in hypothalamic blood flow are associated with hunger, while reductions typically occur after eating and are linked to satiety. In addition to brain imaging, researchers collected blood samples to measure glucose, insulin, and GLP-1 (a hormone involved in satiety), and they asked participants to rate their hunger at multiple time points.</p>
<p>The results showed that consuming sucralose, compared to sucrose and water, increased blood flow in the lateral hypothalamus. This region is known to be involved in triggering hunger and motivating food-seeking behavior. Notably, sucralose consumption also increased self-reported hunger levels compared to sucrose, despite containing no calories. In contrast, sucrose consumption led to increases in blood glucose and decreases in medial hypothalamic blood flow—responses typically associated with feelings of fullness.</p>
<p>Brain imaging also revealed that sucralose altered the functional connectivity between the hypothalamus and other brain regions. For example, after drinking sucralose, participants showed stronger connections between the hypothalamus and areas involved in motivation (like the anterior cingulate cortex) and body awareness (such as the parietal lobule). These changes suggest that sucralose may heighten the brain’s responsiveness to food cues or amplify motivational signals related to eating.</p>
<p>Interestingly, the effects of sucralose varied by body weight and sex. Among participants with healthy weight, sucralose triggered greater hypothalamic activation compared to sucrose, while individuals with obesity showed stronger responses to sucralose compared to water. Those who were overweight fell somewhere in between. Additionally, women showed stronger brain responses to sucralose than men, consistent with previous research suggesting sex differences in sensitivity to food cues and sweet taste.</p>
<p>While the sucrose drink caused measurable increases in glucose, insulin, and GLP-1, sucralose did not. Importantly, the drop in medial hypothalamic blood flow after sucrose ingestion was associated with increased glucose levels and reduced hunger, reinforcing the idea that nutrient signals—especially glucose—help suppress appetite via hypothalamic pathways. These relationships were not seen after sucralose consumption, which did not raise glucose or suppress hypothalamic activity in the same way.</p>
<p>The researchers also explored how individual differences in insulin sensitivity affected brain responses. Participants with lower insulin sensitivity, a marker of metabolic dysfunction, showed greater hypothalamic responses to sucralose than those with higher insulin sensitivity. This finding suggests that people with impaired metabolic function may be more sensitive to the appetite-related effects of non-caloric sweeteners, although more research is needed to confirm this link.</p>
<p>Taken together, the study highlights a paradox: sucralose does not provide calories, but it can stimulate the brain in ways that resemble hunger. The sweet taste, uncoupled from the expected metabolic signals that typically accompany caloric intake, appears to disrupt normal appetite signaling in the hypothalamus. Over time, this could potentially lead to increased food consumption or altered eating patterns, although the study only examined short-term effects.</p>
<p>According to Kathleen Alanna Page, the study’s senior author and director of the USC Diabetes and Obesity Research Institute, these findings raise new questions about the widespread use of artificial sweeteners. “Are these substances actually helpful for regulating body weight? What happens in the body and brain when we consume them, and do the effects differ from one person to the next?” she asked.</p>
<p>While the study provides evidence about how sucralose affects the brain, it also has some limitations. The researchers focused on short-term responses to single doses of sucralose under controlled conditions. Long-term studies are needed to determine whether repeated exposure to non-caloric sweeteners leads to sustained changes in appetite, eating behavior, or body weight. In addition, although the study matched drinks for sweetness intensity, it did not measure participants’ subjective experience of sweet taste or their preferences, which could influence brain responses.</p>
<p>The researchers also noted that their participant group consisted of young, healthy adults who were not trying to lose weight. Results might differ in older adults, individuals with diabetes, or those actively managing their weight. The study also focused only on sucralose, leaving open the question of whether other sweeteners—such as aspartame, saccharin, or stevia—have similar or different effects on the brain and appetite regulation.</p>
<p>To address some of these gaps, Page and her team have launched a follow-up study examining how non-caloric sweeteners affect brain development and appetite regulation in children and adolescents, who are among the heaviest consumers of sugar substitutes. “The brain is vulnerable during this time,” Page explained, “so it could be a critical opportunity to intervene.”</p>
<p>The study, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/s42255-025-01227-8" target="_blank">Non-caloric sweetener effects on brain appetite regulation in individuals across varying body weights</a>,” was authored by Sandhya P. Chakravartti, Kay Jann, Ralf Veit, Hanyang Liu, Alexandra G. Yunker, Brendan Angelo, John R. Monterosso, Anny H. Xiang, Stephanie Kullmann, and Kathleen A. Page.</p></p>
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<td><a href="https://www.psypost.org/new-research-highlights-spite-as-a-motivator-of-conspiracy-theory-beliefs/" style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing:-1px;margin:0;padding:0 0 2px;font-weight: bold;font-size: 19px;line-height: 20px;color:#222;">New research highlights spite as a motivator of conspiracy theory beliefs</a>
<div style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align:left;color:#999;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;line-height:15px;">May 30th 2025, 06:00</div>
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<p><p>A new series of studies published in the <em><a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/josi.12662" target="_blank">Journal of Social Issues</a></em> suggests that spite—a desire to harm others even at one’s own expense—may help explain why some people are drawn to conspiracy theories. The research, conducted by psychologists at Staffordshire University and the University of Birmingham, found that feelings of competitive disadvantage can trigger a spiteful mindset, which in turn makes people more receptive to conspiracy theories, especially those that involve science denial.</p>
<p>Across three pre-registered studies involving representative samples of adults in the United Kingdom, the researchers found that well-known psychological motives—such as feeling uncertain, powerless, or socially undervalued—were all associated with increased conspiracy thinking. But their results also indicate that spite may be a common psychological thread tying these motives together.</p>
<p>Conspiracy theories are widespread and have serious consequences. They can undermine trust in science, foster social division, and hinder collective action on issues like climate change or public health.</p>
<p>“Conspiracy theories have been a long-standing interest of mine, from being a 10-year old watching X-files to observing the explosion of conspiracy theories after 9/11. As a psychologist, I kept up with the latest research and lectured on the subject for years, and from there felt I had found an unexplored area of the topic,” said study author <a href="https://bsky.app/profile/davidsgordon.bsky.social" target="_blank">David Gordon</a>, a senior lecturer at <a href="https://www.staffs.ac.uk/people/david-gordon" target="_blank">the University of Staffordshire</a>.</p>
<p>Past research has identified three main reasons people might turn to conspiracies: the need to understand complex events (epistemic motives), the need to feel safe or in control (existential motives), and the need to feel valued or respected in society (social motives).</p>
<p>But these motives are often studied separately, and the researchers wanted to explore whether they might share a deeper psychological origin. They proposed that feelings of being disadvantaged—whether cognitively, socially, or politically—might activate a spiteful mindset that makes conspiratorial thinking more appealing.</p>
<p>Spite, in this context, is defined as a desire to harm others even if doing so comes at a personal cost. While this behavior seems irrational on the surface, evolutionary theorists argue that spite can sometimes serve a competitive function—lowering the relative advantage of rivals or high-status groups. The researchers hypothesized that conspiracy theories may function as a cultural outlet for this spiteful motivation: by rejecting the authority or expertise of powerful institutions, believers can symbolically “level the playing field.”</p>
<p>In the first two studies, the researchers recruited over 700 participants across two separate samples using the Prolific platform. Participants were representative of the UK population in terms of age, gender, and ethnicity.</p>
<p>They completed several psychological scales designed to measure:</p>
<ul>
<li>General belief in conspiracy theories</li>
<li>Belief in COVID-19 specific conspiracies</li>
<li>Spite (using the 17-item Spitefulness Scale)</li>
<li>Intolerance of uncertainty (epistemic motive)</li>
<li>Political powerlessness (existential motive)</li>
<li>In-group narcissism and realistic threat (social motives)</li>
</ul>
<p>The results showed that higher scores on all three motive categories were linked to greater belief in conspiracy theories—and that spite significantly mediated these relationships. In other words, people who felt uncertain, powerless, or socially threatened were more likely to report spiteful attitudes, which in turn predicted higher levels of conspiracy thinking.</p>
<p>The strength of the mediation varied depending on the motive. Spite accounted for a particularly large portion of the relationship between intolerance of uncertainty and belief in conspiracy theories. This suggests that when people feel confused or out of control, spite may offer a psychological outlet—rejecting mainstream explanations or trusted institutions becomes a way of reasserting agency.</p>
<p>The second study replicated the findings of the first, even though a manipulation designed to heighten these motives by exposing participants to threatening post-COVID future scenarios was unsuccessful. Despite this, the correlations and mediation models again supported the idea that spite links these three motives to conspiratorial belief.</p>
<p>To test whether spite could cause conspiratorial thinking, the researchers conducted a third study with 405 individuals where they experimentally induced feelings of spite. Participants were randomly assigned to imagine a scenario in which a character they identified with was socially rejected in favor of a more popular rival. They were then asked to describe how they would “get back” at this person without getting caught.</p>
<p>Those who engaged in the task and wrote a detailed revenge plan scored higher on the spite scale than participants in a control group. However, this increase in spite did not directly lead to significantly higher conspiracy beliefs. Yet, mediation analyses suggested an indirect pathway: the manipulation increased spite, and higher spite was associated with stronger conspiracy thinking. While these results were less robust than the earlier studies, they still provide tentative support for the idea that triggering spite can indirectly influence conspiratorial ideation.</p>
<p>The findings indicate that “the openness to conspiracy theory beliefs is a product of more mundane (but important) concerns, specifically around feeling disadvantaged in different aspects of our life,” Gordon told PsyPost. “It means one should try to have empathy for a friend or family member who is falling down that rabbit hole. It’s also call for those who find themselves automatically rejecting ‘the official line’ to pause and reflect on what exactly it is they’re objecting to and how doing so makes them feel.”</p>
<p>Megan Birney, co-author from the University of Birmingham, added: “We are not suggesting that people consciously choose to be spiteful when believing and spreading conspiracy theories. Instead, our findings suggest that feelings of disadvantage in those three areas can provoke a common psychological – spiteful – response, one that makes individuals more receptive to believing conspiracy theories.”</p>
<p>Although the studies were well-designed and pre-registered, they were not without limitations. Much of the data was cross-sectional, meaning that causal claims should be made cautiously. The experimental manipulation in Study 3, while promising, was not as effective as the researchers had hoped. </p>
<p>“The clearest results in the published work were from the association studies rather than the experimental work, we didn’t demonstrate cause and effect quite as we hoped,” Gordon noted. “And that this is the first piece of evidence for our ‘spitefulness’ hypothesis of conspiracy theory belief rather than final proof.”</p>
<p>In addition, many participants did not fully engage with the task, and the average belief in COVID-19 conspiracies was relatively low across the sample. “The general disbelief in COVID-19 conspiracies was reassuring,” Gordon said. “Conspiracy theorists are certainly very loud, in-person and especially online, but that visibility doesn’t reflect the actual acceptance of those views in the wider public.”</p>
<p>The researchers suggest that future studies could use behavioral economics paradigms—such as competitive games that elicit real spiteful behavior—to test their hypotheses more rigorously. They also propose further work to clarify whether the spitefulness scale captures a temporary state or a stable personality trait.</p>
<p>“As we conclude in the paper, conspiracy theory belief can be seen as a symptom of wider social and economic concerns,” Gordon added. “If we want to tackle the spread of conspiracy theories, and science-denial in general, it’s these wider issues that need to be addressed.”</p>
<p>The study, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/josi.12662" target="_blank">Spite and Science-Denial: Exploring the Role of Spitefulness in Conspiracy Ideation and COVID-19 Conspiracy Beliefs</a>,” was authored by David S. Gordon and Megan E. Birney.</p></p>
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<td><a href="https://www.psypost.org/five-reasons-young-onset-dementia-often-goes-unrecognized/" style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing:-1px;margin:0;padding:0 0 2px;font-weight: bold;font-size: 19px;line-height: 20px;color:#222;">Five reasons young-onset dementia often goes unrecognized</a>
<div style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align:left;color:#999;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;line-height:15px;">May 29th 2025, 22:00</div>
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<p><p>Around 57 million people worldwide have dementia. While most cases of dementia are diagnosed in older adults, <a href="https://www.youngdementianetwork.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/03/Carter-J-Jackson-M-Prevalence-of-all-cause-young-onset-dementia-and-time-lived-with-dementia-2022-05-1.pdf#:~:text=Numbers%20of%20people%20with%20young%20onset%20dementia%20have,study%2C%20which%20has%20significant%20implications%20for%20service%20provision.">about 7% of cases</a> occur in people under 65. This number may be even higher as <a href="https://doi.org/10.1002/gps.5691">young-onset dementia</a> continues to be under-recognised. This means many people may be missing out on the support they need.</p>
<p>Here are five reasons young-onset dementia remains under-recognised.</p>
<h2>1. Dementia is typically associated with older age</h2>
<p>When you hear the word “dementia” do you picture someone under 65? While dementia is usually associated with older adults, the condition doesn’t discriminate based on age. In fact, anyone (<a href="https://www.childhooddementia.org/what-is-childhood-dementia">even children</a>) can be diagnosed with different forms of dementia.</p>
<p>But this common assumption means many younger people may not <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1041610224032393">seek a diagnosis</a> from their doctor, as many don’t assume dementia could be causing any of the symptoms they’re experiencing.</p>
<p>Doctors, too, often fail to consider the possibility of a younger person having dementia. Many people diagnosed with young-onset dementia initially <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/1471301211430647">had their symptoms dismissed</a>. Some doctors even showed little concern for their experiences. It also isn’t uncommon for younger adults to be told they’re <a href="https://bmjopen.bmj.com/content/bmjopen/8/10/e021166.full.pdf">“too young”</a> to have dementia.</p>
<p>It’s not surprising then that these experiences lead to frustration, with patients and their families <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/13607863.2019.1673699">feeling unheard and neglected</a> by the healthcare system.</p>
<p>The misunderstanding that dementia is a disease of older adults leaves people with young-onset dementia fighting to be heard.</p>
<h2>2. Symptoms are different</h2>
<p>Dementia is most often linked to short-term memory loss. However, cognition (which encompasses all of our mental processes, from thinking to perception) is very complex. For this reason, dementia can lead to a huge variety of symptoms – such as changes in personality and language, difficulties recognising objects, judging distances or coordinating movement and even hallucinations and delusions.</p>
<p>Compared to dementia in older adults, people with young-onset dementia are more likely to experience <a href="https://www.everydayhealth.com/alzheimers-disease/guide/early-onset/">symptoms other than memory loss</a> as the earliest signs of the condition. For instance, research shows that for around <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/pdf/10.3233/JAD-2010-1337?casa_token=jEhIIVa8fIsAAAAA:JxCqDmczWv8vf3OyZyCOgwV6HrP90V2RkXoy2Ka9KuUww_E7gJCre8IEpq_o59i0iJCVanZJ222h">one-third of people</a> with young-onset Alzheimer’s disease, the earliest symptoms they had were problems with coordination and vision changes.</p>
<h2>3. Rarer causes of dementia</h2>
<p>Dementia is an umbrella term that encompasses a range of brain disorders that all cause problems with cognition. In older adults, the most common cause of dementia is Alzheimer’s disease – accounting for <a href="https://cks.nice.org.uk/topics/dementia/background-information/causes/">50-75% of cases</a>. But in people under 65, only around <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/imj.13099?msockid=162d73b4ee23626428dc66c7ef13634e">40% of dementia cases</a> can be attributed to Alzheimer’s disease.</p>
<p>Instead, young-onset dementia tends to be <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1474442210701599?casa_token=Jwi30_XfUKMAAAAA:-bjWWeZjrL5l7qD2JcvolJJ_okeSEL2PduS09DgSuqBm-x9ckcsRyurXVQ8Js_MqM2q9Mr9BQw">caused by rarer neurodegenerative conditions</a>, such as frontotemporal dementias. Frontotemporal dementias only affect <a href="https://www.ukdri.ac.uk/conditions/frontotemporal-dementia">around one in 20 people</a> diagnosed with dementia. These conditions affect parts of the brain responsible for personality, behaviour, language, speech and executive functioning.</p>
<p>For example, primary progressive aphasia is one type of frontotemporal dementia. This condition affects around <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK563145/#:~:text=Epidemiology,PPA%20have%20coexisting%20speech%20apraxia.">three in every 100,000 people</a>. Primary progressive aphasia mainly alters a person’s ability to communicate and understand speech.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1474442210701599?casa_token=Jwi30_XfUKMAAAAA:-bjWWeZjrL5l7qD2JcvolJJ_okeSEL2PduS09DgSuqBm-x9ckcsRyurXVQ8Js_MqM2q9Mr9BQw">Secondary dementias</a> are also more common in people with young-onset dementia. These are dementias that are caused by another underlying medical condition, disease (such as Huntington’s disease or a brain tumour) or external factor (such as a viral infection, substance misuse or head injury).</p>
<p>Recognition of these rarer forms of dementia is increasing – thanks in part to celebrities such as <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-66105586">Fiona Phillips</a>, <a href="https://www.alzheimersresearchuk.org/news/actress-pauline-quirke-diagnosed-with-dementia/">Pauline Quirke</a> and <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/society/2017/apr/16/monty-python-terry-jones-learning-to-live-with-dementia">Terry Jones</a> opening up about their experiences. But there’s still much less understanding around treatment options and managing symptoms when it comes to these rarer forms of dementia. Rarer dementias are also linked to atypical symptoms, which often go missed. This prolongs the diagnostic journey.</p>
<h2>4. Symptoms overlap with other conditions</h2>
<p>Symptoms of young-onset dementia have considerable overlap with those common in certain <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1474442210701599?casa_token=Jwi30_XfUKMAAAAA:-bjWWeZjrL5l7qD2JcvolJJ_okeSEL2PduS09DgSuqBm-x9ckcsRyurXVQ8Js_MqM2q9Mr9BQw">mental health conditions</a>, such as bipolar disorder, psychosis, depression and anxiety. Symptoms might also include apathy, feelings of panic, irritability, hallucinations and delusions.</p>
<p>Early symptoms of young-onset dementia may also be misdiagnosed as <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/1049732320970199">menopause in women</a>, as well as <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/1471301216687436">a period of burnout</a>.</p>
<p>Of course, not everyone experiencing these symptoms will have young-onset dementia. But it’s important we raise awareness about symptom overlap to make the diagnosis process easier for those who do.</p>
<h2>5. Experiences differ between people</h2>
<p>The type and severity of a person’s symptoms can vary due to a <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/international-psychogeriatrics/article/abs/biopsychosocial-bps-model-of-dementia-as-a-tool-for-clinical-practice-a-pilot-study/8E5CC77DC16BB5E49235EE362D8ECFF6">variety of factors</a> – such as their <a href="https://www.alzheimers.org.uk/about-dementia/managing-the-risk-of-dementia/reduce-your-risk-of-dementia/physical-activity#:~:text=Physical%20exercise%20to%20help%20memory%20and%20thinking%20skills&text=Several%20studies%20have%20also%20shown,years%20of%20age-related%20shrinkage.">physical health</a>, their <a href="https://www.alzheimers.org.uk/about-dementia/managing-the-risk-of-dementia/reduce-your-risk-of-dementia/social-isolation">social environment</a> and even their <a href="https://www.alzscot.org/our-work/campaigning-for-change/scotlands-national-dementia-strategy">stress levels</a>. This all leads to significant variability in how dementia is experienced.</p>
<p>A person’s <a href="https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jamanetworkopen/fullarticle/2701730">cognitive reserve</a> (the brain’s ability to maintain good cognitive function despite damage or brain changes) also affects their experience of dementia symptoms and how they cope with them. Some people may adapt more effectively, drawing on strong support networks, psychological resilience or their own personal coping strategies to <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/pdf/10.1080/17482631.2018.1490620">overcome these challenges</a>.</p>
<p>All of these factors together can make it difficult to recognise symptoms of young-onset dementia, especially in its early stages.</p>
<h2>Need for awareness</h2>
<p>The under-recognition of young-onset dementia is significant. It contributes to the lack of resources, specialised care and advice, appropriate support and early diagnosis <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1002/gps.5859?casa_token=okuHgW-QROMAAAAA:irVMUE_cAOwYUhkfX8s67gwqq1lJoXHGAjo1V9h_dCB_8AbyD7tm78HMW28kUrb2dizQAVBjKZR9Gw">for people with young-onset dementia</a>. While this is improving, greater awareness still needs to be brought to the experience of dementia in younger adults – especially given research shows that the progression of cognitive decline is <a href="https://www.intpsychogeriatrics.org/article/S1041-6102(25)00265-0/fulltext">more pronounced in younger adults</a>.</p>
<p>If you’re worried about yourself or a family member showing signs of dementia, it’s important to discuss symptoms and seek support early. You can also contact local dementia support organisations such as <a href="https://www.alzscot.org/">Alzheimer Scotland</a>, <a href="https://www.dementiauk.org/">Dementia UK</a>, and <a href="https://www.alzheimers.org.uk/">Alzheimer Society</a>, who can provide information, resources and guidance on support options.<!-- Below is The Conversation's page counter tag. Please DO NOT REMOVE. --><img decoding="async" src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/254001/count.gif?distributor=republish-lightbox-basic" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1"><!-- End of code. If you don't see any code above, please get new code from the Advanced tab after you click the republish button. The page counter does not collect any personal data. More info: https://theconversation.com/republishing-guidelines --></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>This article is republished from <a href="https://theconversation.com">The Conversation</a> under a Creative Commons license. Read the <a href="https://theconversation.com/five-reasons-why-young-onset-dementia-is-often-missed-254001">original article</a>.</em></p></p>
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<td><a href="https://www.psypost.org/being-honest-about-using-ai-can-backfire-on-your-credibility/" style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing:-1px;margin:0;padding:0 0 2px;font-weight: bold;font-size: 19px;line-height: 20px;color:#222;">Being honest about using AI can backfire on your credibility</a>
<div style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align:left;color:#999;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;line-height:15px;">May 29th 2025, 20:00</div>
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<p><p>Whether you’re using AI to write cover letters, grade papers or draft ad campaigns, you might want to think twice about telling others. That simple act of disclosure can make people trust you less, our new <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.obhdp.2025.104405">peer-reviewed article found</a>.</p>
<p>As <a href="https://eller.arizona.edu/people/oliver-schilke">researchers who</a> <a href="https://eller.arizona.edu/people/martin-reimann">study trust</a>, we see this as a paradox. After all, being honest and transparent usually makes people trust you more. But across 13 experiments involving more than 5,000 participants, we found a consistent pattern: Revealing that you relied on AI undermines how trustworthy you seem.</p>
<p>Participants in our study included students, legal analysts, hiring managers and investors, among others. Interestingly, we found that even evaluators who were tech-savvy were less trusting of people who said they used AI. While having a positive view of technology reduced the effect slightly, it didn’t erase it.</p>
<p>Why would being open and transparent about using AI make people trust you less? One reason is that people still expect human effort in writing, thinking and innovating. When AI steps into that role and you highlight it, your work looks less legitimate.</p>
<p>But there’s a caveat: If you’re using AI on the job, the cover-up may be worse than the crime. We found that quietly using AI can trigger the steepest decline in trust if others uncover it later. So being upfront may ultimately be a better policy.</p>
<h2>Why it matters</h2>
<p>A global survey of 13,000 people found that <a href="https://www.bcg.com/publications/2023/what-people-are-saying-about-ai-at-work">about half had used AI at work</a>, often for tasks such as writing emails or analyzing data. People typically assume that being open about using these tools is <a href="https://www.zetwerk.com/ai-disclosure-in-business/">the right choice</a>.</p>
<p>Yet our research suggests doing so may backfire. This creates a dilemma for those who value honesty but also need to rely on trust to maintain strong relationships with clients and colleagues. In fields where credibility is essential – such as finance, health care and higher education – even a small loss of trust can damage a career or brand.</p>
<p>The consequences go beyond individual reputations. Trust is often called the social “glue” that <a href="https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev-soc-082120-082850">holds society together</a>. It drives collaboration, boosts morale and keeps customers loyal. When that trust is shaken, entire organizations can feel the effects through lower productivity, reduced motivation and weakened team cohesion.</p>
<p>If disclosing AI use sparks suspicion, users face a difficult choice: embrace transparency and risk a backlash, or stay silent and risk being exposed later – an outcome our findings suggest erodes trust even more.</p>
<p>That’s why understanding the AI transparency dilemma is so important. Whether you’re a manager rolling out new technology or an artist deciding whether to credit AI in your portfolio, the stakes are rising.</p>
<h2>What still isn’t known</h2>
<p>It’s unclear whether this transparency penalty will fade over time. As AI becomes more widespread – and potentially more reliable – disclosing its use may eventually seem less suspect.</p>
<p>There’s also no consensus on how organizations should handle AI disclosure. One option is to make transparency completely voluntary, which leaves the decision to disclose to the individual. Another is a mandatory disclosure policy across the board. Our research suggests that the threat of being exposed by a third party can motivate compliance if the policy is stringently enforced through tools such as AI detectors.</p>
<p>A third approach is cultural: building a workplace where AI use is seen as normal, accepted and legitimate. We think this kind of environment could soften the trust penalty and support both transparency and credibility.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>This article is republished from <a href="https://theconversation.com">The Conversation</a> under a Creative Commons license. Read the <a href="https://theconversation.com/being-honest-about-using-ai-at-work-makes-people-trust-you-less-research-finds-253590">original article</a>.</em></p></p>
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<td><a href="https://www.psypost.org/vagal-flexibility-helps-explain-which-anxious-kids-improve-with-therapy/" style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing:-1px;margin:0;padding:0 0 2px;font-weight: bold;font-size: 19px;line-height: 20px;color:#222;">Vagal flexibility helps explain which anxious kids improve with therapy</a>
<div style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align:left;color:#999;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;line-height:15px;">May 29th 2025, 18:00</div>
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<p><p>A new study published in the <em><a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/01650254241306118" target="_blank">International Journal of Behavioral Development</a></em> suggests that preschool children with greater physiological flexibility may be more likely to benefit from intensive anxiety interventions. The researchers found that young children with high vagal flexibility — a marker of how well the body adapts to changing emotional and social demands — showed greater reductions in anxiety symptoms following a comprehensive early intervention program known as the Turtle Program. In contrast, children with lower physiological flexibility showed less improvement, regardless of the type of intervention received.</p>
<p>Children who show a pattern of withdrawal, fear, or inhibition in the face of new people or situations — known as behavioral inhibition — are at higher risk of developing anxiety later in life. However, not all behaviorally inhibited children go on to experience anxiety disorders. Researchers have long suspected that parenting practices, social environments, and biological differences play a role in determining which children are more vulnerable.</p>
<p>Parenting-focused interventions can be effective, especially when they aim to reduce overprotective behaviors that may reinforce children’s avoidance. But these programs differ in complexity and intensity. Some include only parent education, while others, like the Turtle Program, provide direct child intervention and parent coaching. Knowing which children benefit most from more intensive treatment could make interventions more efficient and personalized.</p>
<p>The researchers focused on vagal flexibility — a measure of how the parasympathetic nervous system (which calms the body after stress) responds and recovers during emotionally engaging situations. Greater vagal flexibility has been linked to better emotional regulation, attention, and social functioning. The team wanted to know whether vagal flexibility could predict which children would respond best to different types of early intervention.</p>
<p>The study included 151 children between 3.75 and 5.3 years old, all identified as high in behavioral inhibition. Children were randomly assigned to one of two interventions: the Turtle Program or Cool Little Kids (CLK). The Turtle Program combines in-person coaching for parents with group-based social skills training for children, while CLK is a parent-only psychoeducational program.</p>
<p>Children completed lab assessments before, during, and after treatment, where they watched calming videos and took part in mildly stressful social tasks — such as meeting a clown or introducing themselves to imaginary peers. Throughout these sessions, researchers recorded their heart rate patterns using a standard measure called respiratory sinus arrhythmia, which provides insight into parasympathetic nervous system activity. From this data, the team calculated vagal flexibility based on how much the children’s physiological responses varied and recovered across the different tasks.</p>
<p>They then used statistical modeling to group children based on their patterns of vagal flexibility across the treatment timeline and examined how these patterns related to anxiety severity after the intervention.</p>
<p>The children fell into two main groups: those with high vagal flexibility and those with low flexibility. High-flexibility children showed noticeable changes in their physiological responses — including suppression during challenging tasks and recovery during calming periods — while low-flexibility children had flatter, less dynamic patterns.</p>
<p>Importantly, the researchers found that children with high vagal flexibility who participated in the Turtle Program showed the greatest reductions in anxiety symptoms, as measured by clinical interviews with parents. For these children, the more intensive and interactive nature of the Turtle Program appeared to support greater therapeutic gains. In contrast, high-flexibility children in the less intensive CLK program did not show the same level of improvement.</p>
<p>Children in the low-flexibility group showed relatively little change in anxiety severity after treatment, regardless of which program they received. This suggests that their reduced ability to physiologically adapt to changing social and emotional demands may have limited their engagement or responsiveness to the interventions.</p>
<p>The findings suggest that children with high vagal flexibility may be better equipped to engage in and benefit from interventions that involve active participation, both from themselves and their caregivers. These children might respond particularly well to programs like the Turtle Program, which provide real-time coaching, peer interaction, and multiple layers of support.</p>
<p>The study also has limitations. The participants came from relatively educated families, which may limit the generalizability of the results to more diverse populations. The researchers also noted that vagal flexibility was measured during separate lab sessions, not during the actual therapy sessions, which means the exact mechanisms through which vagal flexibility supports treatment engagement are still unclear.</p>
<p>In addition, the study followed children only through the immediate post-treatment phase. Longer-term follow-up would be needed to determine whether the benefits for high-flexibility children in the Turtle Program persist over time and whether interventions can be modified to better support children with low physiological flexibility.</p>
<p>Another open question is whether vagal flexibility itself can be improved. Some evidence suggests that parenting behaviors and specific types of biofeedback or nerve stimulation may help enhance autonomic regulation in children. Future studies could explore whether boosting vagal flexibility directly might improve outcomes for children who are less physiologically adaptable.</p>
<p>The study, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/01650254241306118" target="_blank">Children’s vagal flexibility is a predictor and moderator of treatment response to early parenting interventions for inhibited youth</a>,” was authored by Nicholas J. Wagner, Nila Shakiba, Hong N.T. Bui, Danielle Novick, Kathy Sem, Christina M. Danko, Kenneth H. Rubin, and Andrea Chronis-Tuscano.</p></p>
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<td><a href="https://www.psypost.org/narcissistic-ceos-are-more-likely-to-fake-emotions-when-they-feel-lonely-study-finds/" style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing:-1px;margin:0;padding:0 0 2px;font-weight: bold;font-size: 19px;line-height: 20px;color:#222;">Narcissistic CEOs are more likely to fake emotions when they feel lonely, study finds</a>
<div style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align:left;color:#999;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;line-height:15px;">May 29th 2025, 16:00</div>
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<p><p>New research has found that narcissistic CEOs are especially prone to hiding their true feelings and putting on a confident front—but only when they feel socially isolated. The study, published in the journal <em><a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.paid.2025.113186" target="_blank">Personality and Individual Differences</a></em>, shows that loneliness plays a key role in triggering surface acting among narcissistic leaders, shedding light on the hidden emotional toll of executive leadership.</p>
<p>Narcissism refers to a personality trait characterized by an inflated sense of self-importance, a need for admiration, and a tendency to lack empathy for others. While many people may show narcissistic tendencies to some degree, individuals high in narcissism often feel a strong need to be seen as superior and successful. In the workplace, especially at the top levels of leadership, narcissism can have both beneficial and harmful effects. Narcissistic CEOs may be bold decision-makers, but they are also more likely to ignore feedback, take excessive risks, and alienate coworkers.</p>
<p>The researchers behind the new study wanted to better understand how narcissistic CEOs cope emotionally with the stress of their role. Previous studies have shown that leadership positions can be isolating, and that narcissistic individuals are particularly sensitive to social rejection and perceived threats to their status. However, little is known about how these leaders manage their emotions in the face of loneliness.</p>
<p>To investigate this question, the researchers focused on a type of emotion regulation known as “surface acting.” This is when a person hides their genuine emotions and instead displays emotions they think are expected or acceptable. Unlike deep acting, which involves trying to actually feel a desired emotion, surface acting is more about putting on a performance. In the case of CEOs, this might mean pretending to be confident, calm, or enthusiastic—even when feeling stressed, frustrated, or isolated inside.</p>
<p>The study recruited 100 Canadian CEOs from large private companies, 63% of whom were men. The average age of participants was 54, and they had held their positions for around 10 years. The companies represented a range of sizes, with most employing fewer than 500 people and generating over a billion Canadian dollars in annual revenue. To gather data, the researchers used personal networks and invitations sent by peer CEOs, allowing them to collect self-report measures from a group that is typically hard to reach for academic studies.</p>
<p>The researchers asked participants to complete several short questionnaires. Narcissism was measured using a validated six-item version of the Narcissistic Admiration and Rivalry Questionnaire, which includes items such as “I deserve to be seen as a great personality.” Loneliness was assessed using a three-item version of the UCLA Loneliness Scale, adapted to focus on workplace experiences. Surface acting was measured with three questions that asked about suppressing emotions at work, such as “I resist expressing my true feelings.”</p>
<p>In addition to these main variables, the researchers also collected basic demographic information such as age and gender, which were included as control variables in their analysis. Importantly, the study used statistical methods to examine not only whether narcissistic CEOs engage in surface acting, but also whether their tendency to do so depends on how lonely they feel.</p>
<p>The results revealed a clear pattern. Narcissistic CEOs were not more likely than others to report surface acting in general. However, when these individuals also reported high levels of loneliness, their likelihood of engaging in surface acting increased significantly. In other words, loneliness acted as a trigger for narcissistic CEOs to fake their emotions, likely in an effort to maintain their self-image and avoid appearing vulnerable.</p>
<p>This finding supports the idea that narcissistic behavior is often reactive to social threats. Feeling socially disconnected may be especially disturbing for people high in narcissism, who are driven by a need for admiration and status. When they sense that they are being ignored or excluded, they may respond by exaggerating their emotional expressions to preserve their image.</p>
<p>The authors suggest that this pattern could have broader implications for organizational health. While surface acting may help narcissistic CEOs keep up appearances in the short term, sustained emotional suppression can lead to stress, burnout, and lower job satisfaction. It may also prevent leaders from forming authentic relationships with colleagues and employees, which could harm team cohesion and long-term organizational outcomes.</p>
<p>But like all studies, it is not without limitations. The sample was limited to Canadian CEOs of large companies, which may not reflect the experiences of leaders in other countries or industries. The study also relied on self-reported data, which can be influenced by social desirability or reluctance to disclose sensitive information. Nonetheless, the researchers were able to obtain direct responses from CEOs, which is rare in this field of study.</p>
<p>Future research could explore how other factors—such as organizational culture, leadership support, or mental health resources—might influence how narcissistic CEOs experience and cope with loneliness. Longitudinal studies could also help clarify whether surface acting leads to changes in well-being or decision-making over time.</p>
<p>The study, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.paid.2025.113186" target="_blank">The lonely facade of narcissistic CEOs: Surface acting among narcissistic CEOs in response to feelings of loneliness</a>,” was authored by P.D. Harms, Alaric Bourgoin, Anthony Silard, and Sarah Wright.</p></p>
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<td><a href="https://www.psypost.org/long-term-ssri-use-linked-to-reduced-alzheimers-pathology-but-mixed-effects-on-cognition/" style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing:-1px;margin:0;padding:0 0 2px;font-weight: bold;font-size: 19px;line-height: 20px;color:#222;">Long-term SSRI use linked to reduced Alzheimer’s pathology but mixed effects on cognition</a>
<div style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align:left;color:#999;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;line-height:15px;">May 29th 2025, 14:00</div>
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<p><p>A new study published in <em><a href="https://doi.org/10.1002/alz.14579" target="_blank">Alzheimer’s & Dementia</a></em> suggests that long-term use of selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs) may reduce biological markers of Alzheimer’s disease, but their influence on cognitive function appears inconsistent. The findings show that individuals with Alzheimer’s who used SSRIs had lower levels of tau protein in the blood and showed restored activity in a brain region typically impaired by the disease. However, their performance on standard cognitive tests varied depending on the specific measure used.</p>
<p>Alzheimer’s disease is a progressive neurological condition that leads to memory loss, behavioral changes, and ultimately, a loss of independence. One of the main drivers of Alzheimer’s progression is the accumulation of a protein called tau, which forms tangled clumps inside neurons and interferes with their function. Tau pathology is strongly linked to cognitive decline, and researchers have long sought ways to reduce or slow its buildup.</p>
<p>SSRIs are a class of antidepressants commonly prescribed to treat major depressive disorder and anxiety. They work by increasing levels of serotonin, a neurotransmitter that affects mood, sleep, and cognition. The serotonergic system has also been implicated in Alzheimer’s disease, as some of the earliest signs of tau pathology appear in a serotonin-producing brain region known as the dorsal raphe nucleus (DRN). This brainstem region plays a key role in regulating serotonin levels throughout the brain, and its dysfunction is thought to contribute to both depression and Alzheimer’s symptoms.</p>
<p>Given this link, researchers set out to examine whether long-term SSRI use could influence Alzheimer’s pathology, brain metabolism, and cognitive outcomes. They drew on data from the Alzheimer’s Disease Neuroimaging Initiative (ADNI), a large multi-site study that collects medical, cognitive, and imaging data from people at various stages of cognitive health. The analysis included 191 adults, all of whom had baseline brain scans using 18F-fluorodeoxyglucose (FDG) positron emission tomography, a tool that measures glucose metabolism in brain tissue. Participants also provided blood samples and underwent cognitive testing over a two-year period.</p>
<p>To explore the effects of SSRIs, the researchers divided participants into those who had a documented history of SSRI use and those who did not. They excluded individuals who had ever used other types of antidepressants to isolate the effects of SSRIs. The participants were categorized as cognitively normal or diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease based on clinical assessments and standard diagnostic criteria. In the group with Alzheimer’s, 65 participants had used SSRIs, while 92 had not.</p>
<p>One of the primary markers the researchers looked at was phosphorylated tau 181 (p-tau181), a form of tau protein found in the bloodstream that reflects tau accumulation in the brain. Among participants with Alzheimer’s disease, those who used SSRIs had significantly lower levels of plasma p-tau181 compared to non-users. This difference was not observed in cognitively healthy individuals, suggesting that the potential benefit of SSRIs in reducing tau may be specific to those with Alzheimer’s pathology.</p>
<p>Next, the researchers examined how SSRIs affected brain metabolism, focusing on the DRN. In individuals with Alzheimer’s who did not use SSRIs, this brain region showed significantly reduced metabolic activity—an indication of impaired function. In contrast, those with Alzheimer’s who used SSRIs displayed restored activity in the DRN, with glucose metabolism levels similar to those of healthy participants. Interestingly, this effect was not seen in healthy participants who used SSRIs, suggesting that the drug’s impact on DRN function may be specific to disease-related changes.</p>
<p>The team also looked at how SSRI use affected cognitive performance using three standard assessments: the Mini-Mental State Examination (MMSE), the Montreal Cognitive Assessment (MoCA), and the Clinical Dementia Rating (CDR) sum of boxes. Across the two-year follow-up, MMSE scores declined in all participants with Alzheimer’s, regardless of SSRI use, indicating ongoing cognitive deterioration. However, MoCA scores were slightly higher among SSRI users, suggesting some preservation of certain cognitive functions. CDR scores, which assess the severity of dementia symptoms, increased over time in both groups, with a slightly greater increase in SSRI users.</p>
<p>One unexpected finding was that the relationship between MMSE and MoCA scores shifted in those who used SSRIs. Normally, these two assessments are closely correlated because they measure overlapping aspects of cognition. But in SSRI users, this correlation broke down, possibly pointing to selective effects of the drug on certain cognitive domains or a shift in how these domains are measured. The researchers suggest that future studies should include more specific cognitive tests to determine which areas are most affected by SSRI use in Alzheimer’s patients.</p>
<p>Although the results are promising, the study has several limitations. The researchers were unable to assess the impact of different SSRI types, dosages, or treatment durations due to sample size constraints. They also could not account for other factors that may influence Alzheimer’s progression, such as co-occurring medical conditions, additional medications, or the timing of SSRI initiation relative to the onset of Alzheimer’s symptoms. Because the study was cross-sectional, it also cannot confirm whether SSRI use causes reductions in tau or improved DRN function, or whether people who benefit from SSRIs in these ways are simply more likely to have used them.</p>
<p>Despite these caveats, the findings provide new insights into how a widely used class of antidepressants may influence biological and functional aspects of Alzheimer’s disease. The study supports the idea that SSRI use is associated with lower levels of tau-related pathology and improved activity in a serotonin-rich brain region that plays an early role in disease development. However, the benefits for cognitive performance remain uncertain and may vary depending on how cognition is measured.</p>
<p>Future research will need to clarify whether starting SSRI treatment at specific stages of Alzheimer’s progression offers more benefit, and whether certain subtypes of patients are more likely to respond positively. Longitudinal studies that follow people over time while tracking tau levels, brain function, and detailed cognitive outcomes could help answer these questions.</p>
<p>The study, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1002/alz.14579" target="_blank">SSRIs reduce plasma tau and restore dorsal raphe metabolism in Alzheimer’s disease</a>,” was authored by Dylan J. Terstege, Shaista Jabeen, Alzheimer’s Disease Neuroimaging Initiative, Liisa A. M. Galea, Jonathan R. Epp, and Derya Sargin.</p></p>
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<td><a href="https://www.psypost.org/sex-differences-in-disgust-sensitivity-fade-with-age-large-scale-study-finds/" style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing:-1px;margin:0;padding:0 0 2px;font-weight: bold;font-size: 19px;line-height: 20px;color:#222;">Sex differences in disgust sensitivity fade with age, large-scale study finds</a>
<div style="font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align:left;color:#999;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;line-height:15px;">May 29th 2025, 12:00</div>
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<p><p>Women are often thought to be more easily disgusted than men, particularly when it comes to things like spoiled food or contamination risk. But a new study published in <em><a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.physbeh.2025.114884" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Physiology & Behavior</a></em> suggests that this gender gap may shrink or even disappear with age. Researchers found that younger women consistently reported higher levels of disgust, food-related worries, and contamination fears than men—but these differences diminished with older age.</p>
<p>The emotion of disgust plays a key role in protecting people from threats like spoiled food, disease, and toxins. Previous research has shown that women tend to score higher on measures of disgust sensitivity than men, and an evolutionary explanation has often been proposed.</p>
<p>The reasoning is that because women carry the biological burden of pregnancy, being highly sensitive to potential sources of harm—especially from food—can serve as a protective mechanism for both mother and fetus. However, as women age and move beyond their reproductive years, this heightened sensitivity might become less necessary. The current study was designed to test that idea.</p>
<p>“It just seemed obvious to me that disgust sensitivity would not be stable across the lifespan, because of the different processes and factors that affect the human judgment and that change naturally as one grows older,” said study author <a href="https://cb.ethz.ch/people/person-detail.anne-berthold.html">Anne Berthold</a>, a lecturer at the Department of Health Sciences and Technology at ETH Zürich.</p>
<p>For their study, the researchers reanalyzed several large datasets, each containing information about participants’ age, sex, and responses to measures of disgust sensitivity, food neophobia (reluctance to try new foods), health-related food concerns, and contamination fears. The data came from diverse sources, including a nationally representative panel from Switzerland, a cross-European public opinion survey, and previously published studies. In total, responses from more than 28,000 people aged 18 to 98 were included in the analyses.</p>
<p>In the first dataset, from the Food Panel Switzerland 2.0 (2018), researchers analyzed responses from 2,287 adults. Disgust sensitivity was measured using an eight-item scale that asked participants to rate how disgusting they found scenarios like eating animal cartilage or encountering unhygienic food. As expected, women rated these items as more disgusting than men did. But when age was taken into account, an interesting pattern emerged: among younger adults, women showed significantly higher disgust sensitivity, but this gender difference shrank among older adults and was no longer statistically significant in the oldest age group.</p>
<p>The second study, which included 312 German-speaking participants in an online questionnaire about food packaging, measured both food disgust sensitivity and food neophobia. Again, younger women reported more disgust and food avoidance than younger men. But by middle age, those sex differences became less pronounced, and among older adults, men and women had similar levels of both traits. Notably, while men’s disgust and neophobia scores increased with age, women’s scores remained stable or declined slightly.</p>
<p>The third study used publicly available data from the 2005 Eurobarometer survey, which asked over 24,000 Europeans about their concerns related to food safety, including genetically modified ingredients, foodborne pathogens, and pesticide residues. Women consistently expressed greater concern than men about food-related risks. However, as with the earlier studies, the difference between men and women narrowed as participants aged. Once again, age and sex interacted in a way that supported the researchers’ hypothesis: men’s health-related food concerns rose with age, while women’s remained relatively steady.</p>
<p>The final study assessed fear of contamination using the Padua Inventory, a psychological questionnaire that includes items like avoiding public telephones for fear of germs. This sample included 893 participants from Switzerland. The pattern held: younger women reported more contamination fear than younger men, but by older adulthood, the gap was gone. Men’s fear of contamination increased with age, while women’s remained unchanged.</p>
<p>Taken together, the four studies paint a consistent picture. Younger women are more sensitive to disgust and health-related threats than younger men. But with increasing age, these sex differences diminish. In some cases, older men actually report higher sensitivity than women.</p>
<p>“The most important take home message is that our perception and judgments are not as stable as we might assume in the first place,” Berthold told PsyPost.</p>
<p>The researchers suggest that two competing forces may explain this convergence. For women, the decline in reproductive potential with age reduces the need for high disgust sensitivity as a form of fetal protection. At the same time, aging itself brings new vulnerabilities to illness for both sexes, which may lead to greater caution and risk avoidance in general.</p>
<p>“I thought that the turning point when women and men become similar would be an earlier age (because the menopause usually is around the age of 50) – but it was oftentimes later,” Berthold said. “However, come to think of it, it makes ultimately sense to be more careful (a.k.a more sensitive) for a longer period until one can be absolutely sure that the likelihood of pregnancy is off the table.”</p>
<p>While the findings were consistent across diverse datasets, the researchers acknowledged some limitations. All the data came from self-report questionnaires, which may not fully capture how people behave in real-life situations.</p>
<p>“The findings are based on self-report measures,” Berthold noted. “We, therefore, cannot be 100% sure the pattern would be found in people’s behavioral responses. It would be interesting to tackle this limitation and study people’s behavioral responses (like seating distances) or maybe their implicit attitudes with a priming study.”</p>
<p>Despite these caveats, the study provides robust evidence that the commonly observed gender difference in disgust sensitivity is not fixed. Instead, it shifts across the lifespan in a way that aligns with both evolutionary theory and broader patterns of health vulnerability.</p>
<p>The authors also note that sharing and reanalyzing large public datasets—something increasingly encouraged in psychological science—can be a powerful way to test new hypotheses.</p>
<p>“I want to encourage researchers to look at datasets of other researchers (hopefully finding similar results),” Berthold said. “That would be good for two reasons: a) in case of similar findings that could be a further (kind of external) validation of the hypothesis and b) if we share our datasets more often it might help regarding open science and integrity of research practices.”</p>
<p>The study, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.physbeh.2025.114884" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Not so different anymore? Women’s and men’s disgust sensitivity becomes similar with increasing age</a>,” was authored by Anne Berthold, Angela Bearth, Jeanine Ammann, and Michael Siegrist.</p></p>
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<p><strong>Forwarded by:<br />
Michael Reeder LCPC<br />
Baltimore, MD</strong></p>
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