Tiwa Adejuyigbe

Despite a few successful pilot schemes with small-to-medium sized populations, the million-dollar question remains: how to fund such a programme on a universal, wide scale? I suppose that's why it's often relegated to the realm of utopian ideals. Most proposed solutions involve tax adjustments or sovereign money creation, but neither seems entirely sufficient. The UBI appears difficult to implement, and governments understandably prefer predictability—or where possible, incremental developments—given their aim of political re-election.

Why a UBI in the first place? Well, why not? The most fascinating thing to me about the UBI has been its bipartisan appeal. The goals of a basic income system are primarily to alleviate poverty and to replace other need-based social programmes that potentially require greater bureaucratic involvement, thereby fulfilling both progressive and conservative ideological preferences. Despite concerns regarding its implementation, the possibility of receiving a monthly income simply for existing is quite literally the dream. Who wouldn't want that?

My conception of a basic income isn't inherently universal, but an age-specific basic income scheme. Allow me to provide context.

I've had many conversations recently where I referred to the current Gen Zs—myself included—as 'baby adults'. By that, I mean we're at the very infancy of the adult lifespan, and understandably have little figured out. A 21-year-old and 27-year-old should not be heralded with the same expectations despite being only six years apart. Ergo, I refuse to believe 21- and 41-year-olds are equally regarded as 'adults' for reasons beyond legal identification.

Yet, the existing systems are designed for a seamless transition—from basic education to higher education and subsequently to the workforce—which is proving increasingly unrealistic and unsustainable. Governments fail to factor in the structural inequalities, diverse preferences, and unintended consequences associated with the existing systems which may create difficulties adhering to the normalised pipeline.

Moreover, we possibly underestimate the integrality of 'productivity' to one's personhood in the current systems. The education-to-workforce pipeline is built upon the principle of 'persistent productivity' whereby one must be permanently doing something widely perceived as 'useful'. In most cases, this is either education/upskilling—with the aim of monetising the skills or improving one's employment opportunities—or work itself. There's a third option whereby a person desires either a) the opportunity to upskill or b) work itself, but lacks the resources or pathways to do so.

The issue isn't the notion that one must work. Work predates modern civilisation and is likely innate to our 'humanness'. However, the issue remains the expected adherence to a seamless transition in a world with which such a system is less compatible. In other words, there is little to no time to simply 'vibe'. The outcome? A generation experiencing burnout either by work, or the chronic guilt from not being in work.

The progressive economics concepts aren't radical, but simply acknowledge the necessity of updating certain aspects of modern socioeconomic systems to be more compatible, desirable, and ultimately sustainable.

As I stated earlier, my conception of a basic income isn't necessarily for all adults, but should exist specifically for adults 21–25. Such a proposal could exist as an opt-in social programme. The reasoning is multifaceted and, I believe, compelling:

• Firstly, it's time-bound and whilst unconditional, not permanent. This isn't an endless commitment from the state—it's a targeted intervention during a critical life stage.
• Secondly, it's highly feasible, of course depending on the population composition and existing tax structures. We're not talking about funding the entire adult population indefinitely, thus this is a far more manageable proposition aligning with existing tax structures.
• Third, as an opt-in scheme, it's unconditional, but not required. Freedom of choice remains central to the concept.
• Fourth, an age-based basic income could significantly improve mental health outcomes: reduced acute depression in the short-term and potentially reduced burnout in the long-term. It's hard to say, but I wouldn't be surprised to learn if this causes a prolonged decline in suicide rates given its prevalence amongst young people.
• Fifth, adherence is easily monitored as many governments now implement National Insurance identification systems. The administrative infrastructure largely exists already across the board.
• Sixth, and most of all, it could forecast the economy's potential through dynamic scoring and enable more efficient long-term economic policy. This isn't just about supporting young adults, but about potentially gathering valuable data which could transform how we understand economic behaviour and plan for the future.

Above all, an age-based basic income scheme could provide a more measured transition from education-to-work which better aligns with the existing state of things, given that our current systems didn't account for advanced factor substitution, exponentially increased inflation and prolonged unemployment rates.

Whilst the UBI may not be able to be utilised for all adults—and certainly not across all countries—it's highly possible a basic income scheme could be implemented across multiple nations given its bipartisan appeal. I'm not necessarily suggesting this is the economic panacea that will solve all our problems, but it could be a significant step in the right direction. Whilst unable to wholly eradicate poverty, an age-based basic income nonetheless provides a useful safety net which could significantly lessen poverty in the long-run.

More than one in 100 people are on the autism spectrum and there are around 700,000 autistic adults and children in the UK. At the same time, the autism waiting list in England surpassed 200,000 people for the first time in September 2024.

These days, formal diagnoses aren't entirely required for someone to be deemed autistic. The increased awareness surrounding neurodivergence — and autism specifically — has enabled people to identify as autistic regardless of a diagnosis. Nonetheless, formal diagnoses are often required for reasonable adjustments in the workplace or higher education settings. This is especially crucial for adults considered to be "high-functioning" autistic individuals.

As a matter of fact, a diagnosis is simply the first step in what we understand to be a lifelong condition. For many, the diagnosis does not merely label, but instead empowers individuals to recognise and celebrate their neurological differences and special abilities.

I began training for the upcoming 10K close to 6 weeks ago. At the time, I knew I wanted to support a charity focused on autism — ideally in adults — but hadn't conclusively decided which one.

I'm fundraising for Autistica specifically for two reasons. Firstly, I believe addressing autism at the systemic level through inclusive research combined with advocacy is the best approach. I also believe this approach is the best way to achieve their mission of enabling autistic adults to live healthier & happier lives.

On research, their recent projects include: making public transport more accessible for neurodivergent people; using machine learning to identify patterns in autistic people's deaths by suicide; assessing special measures for autistic people in the criminal justice system; developing the neuroinclusion index for employers.

On advocacy, Autistica was recently represented at the Zero Project Conference in Vienna, and at the House of Lords regarding the UK's Autism Act. For context: both events took place within the last week.

I'm proud to support a charity dedicated to truly understanding autism from a clinical standpoint and addressing the needs of neurodivergent adults in society.

April is both Autism Awareness Month and Neurodiversity Acceptance Month, hence this fundraising effort feels particularly important.

I'd appreciate any donations in the run up to the 10K. At the time of writing, we're 60% to the £2,000 goal, but I have no doubt in my mind it'll be achieved quite soon.

Thank you in advance.

For those unfamiliar with Nigeria's economic and sociopolitical history, it is awfully complex to say the least, and impossible to fully cover here. However, some context is necessary. Politically, I could point to how ethnoreligious biases determine voting behaviour and influence the lack of political ideology. Socially, I could draw on the colonial mimicry which reflects in our obsession with paternalism—this is all-encompassing and affects everything from workplace culture to domestic dynamics. Economically, I could point to our preference for excessive hedonism and splendour underscored by a collective myopia. It's all very loaded to say the least.

This is a redraft of a titular essay I published 2 years ago which critiqued our political leaders' shortcomings. Although it's valid to demand more from elected representatives, there's little point in regurgitating a played-out rhetoric. Accountability and acknowledgment of shortcomings is not nearly sufficient to improve things economically. I'm concerned with a sustainable plan going forward given the modern age, and a way out (and forward) which utilises our unique strengths. Hence, "Savings or Current?" seems apt.

For whatever reason, many Nigerian banks and fintech providers use the dual-account card system. Unlike elsewhere, this means both current and savings accounts can be accessed using a single card. As such, we're normally asked this question "savings or current?" before making a payment–often daily spending e.g. retail, hospitality. I've always found the process interesting because it often requires split-decision answering. In the same way, perhaps it's worth assessing our current capacity, if we're similarly relying on our (psychological and economic) reserves, for how much longer, and whether we should be at all. Simply: it appears time is running out.

As usual, some context. Our youth unemployment rate is amongst the highest globally at 42.5%; inflation is averaging +25% month-on-month; and 70.7% of the population is projected to be living in poverty in 2025. This is underscored by a currency rapidly declining in value and rising petrol costs—affecting trade and cost of living. Our external debt growth of +300% should be most concerning of all. All things considered, however, we have somehow found it quite easy to compartmentalise. The 'Detty December' phenomenon in particular embodies our ability to forego crucial reflection and long-overdue austerity for an unrelenting jollity characterised by Shallipopistic crooning. Yet, a progressive decline on multiple fronts over a decade is a cause for concern, especially as neighbouring countries such as Kenya, Ethiopia and Rwanda are set to surpass us in many ways.

Can a good degree of our socioeconomic and sociopolitical gaps be attributed to colonialism? Certainly. The colonial legacy left deep structural imbalances and extractive institutions that continue to shape our economy. But we're well over a half century since independence, and many of our wounds now appear self-inflicted. The focus should be on forging a path ahead rather than dwelling on what lies behind us, as other former colonies have done over the last two decades.

I believe our significantly young population and growing technology ecosystem presents numerous possibilities for economic growth centred around a tech-driven and tech-enabled economy. However, the investment required first and foremost isn't necessarily simply fiscal, but a collaborative effort at policy- and citizen-levels. Of these, there's a dire need for aggressively ambitious targets beyond the challenges being solved. By 'aggressive ambition', I refer to goals which transcend incremental improvements to existing problems and instead reimagine what's possible.

We need a more coordinated national strategy that's both state- and market-led but involving citizens towards a shared goal. We needn't reinvent the wheel, but lean into our strengths in financial technology infrastructure while pursuing more ambitious aims beyond the existing services. The opportunities for fintech should focus more on 'for Africa' solutions and 'by Africa' solutions, rather than merely replicating Western models with local adjustments. The data suggests we're more than capable, and such goals are not only realistic, but achievable. After all, excellence is already embedded in our genetic makeup; we simply needed to actualise our potential.

For example, Lagos and Accra have become incredibly popular vacation spots for tourists, particularly around the December period. I previously proposed a tourist digital identity initiative that would integrate with our existing fintech infrastructure. This kind of solution could help manage tourism flows while capturing much-needed foreign exchange—demonstrating how our existing strengths in digital identity and payments could be leveraged for broader economic benefits.

Three of the four major Nigerian fintechs are now developing solutions for the diaspora, in a current state whereby remittances are more useful than ever (due to weakened currency) and amidst a juxtapositional migration to-and-from the country in pursuit of new beginnings. Governance issues aside, I suppose on a psychological level, some of the colonial legacies may affect our relatively 'small thinking' and focus on piecemeal solutions. Perhaps it's time to adopt more global ambition (albeit not reckless) as espoused by our Western counterparts rather than focusing solely on issues affecting Africans.

Despite existing policy efforts, a truly transformative tech-first approach would require several ambitious initiatives. Beyond the ongoing AI revolution and predicted robotics boom, I expect a paradigm-shifting evolution in fintech which transcends basic payments infrastructure as we know it. Given our burgeoning capabilities in both traditional and decentralised digital finance, perhaps we centre our ambitions on powering an already integral part of the global tech ecosystem and global economy in the same way China has positioned itself as a world-leader in e-commerce.

The dual-account system is a fitting metaphor for Nigeria's economic dilemma. For decades, we've been relying on our savings—exhaustible oil resources—without developing sustainable current income streams. However, it appears we've drawn down our reserves without investing sufficiently in renewable sources for growth.

Perhaps now is the time for a broader strategic vision that extends beyond fragmented digital services, but truly cutting-edge and unparalleled financial technology which has use cases across healthcare, agriculture and more.

To answer the question "savings or current?", the answer for our nation must increasingly be "current"—building sustainable revenue streams through innovation, education, and strategic investment. Our savings, both literal and metaphorical, certainly won't last forever.

I'm almost always watching one sitcom or the other–oftentimes rewatching one as I wait for another to be released. The interesting thing about watching (or rewatching) sitcoms from multiple generations has been noticing the evolution of the sitcom as a genre itself. More than anything else, I believe the evolution of sitcoms may actualise Oscar Wilde's assertion that "life imitates art far more than art imitates life."

The evolution over the last three decades can be explained in part by Baudrillard's "simulacra," which represents a hyperreality where the distinction between real and artificial has collapsed. In the first stage, a sign or image reflects a basic reality accurately. In the second, the image begins to distort or mask that reality. The third stage creates an image that pretends to be a faithful copy but is entirely detached from any real reference. Finally, in the fourth stage, the simulacrum becomes pure simulation–it no longer refers to any real thing and exists entirely on its own, creating a version of reality that feels real, even when it isn't. The simulacra/simulation framework doesn't completely capture the sitcom's progression, but it provides a good basis to work from. The four stages, as originally conceived by Baudrillard, may better align with ongoing discourse on media & journalism and politics.

Nonetheless, early sitcoms in the late-90s to early-00s like Friends and That '70s Show align well with Baudrillard's first stage. The shows are evidently constructed, with artificially engineered interior design and live-studio laugh tracks which amplified their fictionality. The artifice was overt, but viewers willingly accepted it as a reflection of reality. The characters felt like people you might know, and the social dynamics mirrored the norms of the time.

Shows like HIMYM and Two and a Half Men followed shortly after in the mid-00s to mid-10s, actualising a hybrid between the first and second stages. These shows were slightly more layered, and attempted to blur the boundary between fiction and reality through emotional depth and storytelling complexity. Yet, they still relied heavily on sitcom conventions—especially the laugh track—to maintain the required illusory aspects. The situational comedy masked a constructed narrative which maintained its artificiality but still aimed to feel grounded.

However, this era also marked a transitional period which aligns with Baudrillard's third stage. The Office and Parks and Recreation emerged, and challenged the notion of sitcoms revolving around friends and/or family through the 'mockumentary' style. By using the aforementioned sitcom-esque elements, these shows offered a lens into a reality that, whilst previously not attached to the genre, is one all too familiar – the workplace. The absence of the laugh track, combined with the shift in settings and the documentary style, certainly heightened the sense of reality. The comedy was still there, but so was the awkwardness, the silence, and the mundane. Hence, the shows and their characters are deemed more 'relatable' and the distinction between real and simulated faded even further. The mid-2010s marked another revolutionary period for sitcoms, and what I would class a 'golden age' for the genre were one to ever exist.

These days, contemporary shows are still classed as sitcoms although without many of the core characteristics that previously defined the genre. One of the most crucial elements now missing is the 'filler episode' which provides greater context, character depth, through extended situational storytelling. Now, most sitcoms are rather 'flat' and straightforward in a way void of a once lighthearted genre–Only Murders in the Building comes to mind here.

Sitcoms aren't defined merely by recurring settings or comedic writing alone, but a combination of multiple interwoven elements. Although not the case with all shows, we're witnessing a blurring of genres where shows like Hacks and Shrinking adopt the length and emotional depth and satirism of hyperrealistic dramas like Severance. These newer shows don't necessarily reflect or distort reality in the way earlier sitcoms did, but aren't necessarily grounded in any particular social reality either.

An analogy I've recently found helpful is the comparison between the Titanic and the Yamato.

The Titanic's demise unfolded through a tragic confluence of design compromises, operational decisions and circumstance. The supposedly revolutionary vessel was, in reality, built with established techniques which neglected structural resilience. The catastrophic sinking transformed what should have been a manageable incident into an engineering failure that claimed over 1,500 lives after a single, relatively minor collision.

The Yamato, by contrast, represented an almost supernatural resilience against overwhelming force. At the time of its completion in 1941, it was the heaviest and most powerfully armed battleship ever built, with unprecedented armour protection. It was destroyed only after a massive coordinated attack specifically designed to overcome its exceptional durability. More specifically, the American force committed nearly 400 aircraft specifically to destroy this single battleship. Yet, even after absorbing 10 torpedo strikes and 6 bomb hits, the colossal battleship maintained operational capability, with functioning weapon systems and propulsion. It took an additional 5 torpedoes — deliberately concentrated on one side to cause asymmetric flooding — before the mighty vessel finally surrendered to physics rather than enemy action—capsizing only after withstanding damage sufficient to sink an entire fleet of conventional ships.

Both vessels sank for very different reasons — one due to myopia and premature launching, and the other due to extraneous circumstances despite operational fortitude.