
Scotch whisky sector and Women's Scottish Open in focus
Scott notes the Trump tariffs are 'presenting a huge challenge for the Scotch whisky industry at arguably the worst possible time'.
Kristy Dorsey catches up with what is going on at Dundonald Links in Ayrshire as it gears up to host the Women's Scottish Open, with world number one Nelly Korda scheduled to play.
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Craig Reekie, general manager of Dundonald Links, tells Kristy: 'It's a world-class field we've got this year, and we're excited to be doing it in the middle of Ayrshire, which has obviously got a rich golfing history.' I interview Graeme Malcolm, co-founder and chief executive of M Squared Lasers, who recalls: 'My journey began with a fascination for lasers, inspired by a great physics teacher and a summer job at Barr & Stroud.'
He declares: 'I'm proud that we've developed some of the world's purest light sources, powering breakthroughs in science and industry.'
And he talks about how the lasers of M Squared support European Space Agency missions and 'are used in healthcare imaging for early diagnosis of conditions like Parkinson's and dementia'.
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Mark Williamson speaks to Offshore Energies UK chief executive David Whitehouse about the outlook for investment in the North Sea.
João Sousa, deputy director of the University of Strathclyde's Fraser of Allander Institute, considers the following question: 'One year on, how different has economic and fiscal policy been under Labour?'
Stephen Boyd, director of IPPR Scotland, writes: 'Economic development is a tortuously difficult endeavour, wrought with difficult decisions, trade-offs and sheer bad luck.'
And he gives his view on how the Scottish Government is faring on these fronts.
In her regular column, fashion entrepreneur Antoinette Fionda-Douglas writes: 'In Scotland, being an entrepreneur already takes grit. Being a female entrepreneur? That takes something more, something closer to defiance.'
Gareth Cole talks to Sarah Campbell about putting Café Canna up for sale and his plans to take over a new space on Coll.
Also on an island theme, Colin Cardwell profiles Bute Boatbuilders following the successful delivery of the ferry Arranmore Blu to its a new home in Donegal, proving in the process that bespoke ship building on the Clyde is alive and well.
The Herald's business writers share their expert perspectives on a range of business and economic developments as they reflect on what they have been writing about during the past month.
Scott Wright contemplates who has had a good month, and who has not.
Tech entrepreneur Ian Ritchie, and business and life coach Ed Haddon offer their insights in their regular columns.
I hope you enjoy this month's edition.
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The National
an hour ago
- The National
Banning Orange marches would be bad idea
As a republican socialist from an Irish Catholic tradition who supports Celtic FC, Scottish independence and a united Ireland, it should go without saying that I fundamentally disagree with the pro-Union, pro-monarchy ideology of the Orange Order. But I also fundamentally disagree with the notion of banning the Orange Order, for both practical and principled reasons. Practically, it would not diminish sectarianism. It would have the opposite effect. Numbers attending these annual rituals have declined steeply during my lifetime. Until recently, most people were unaware of the existence of Kneecap and Bob Vylan. Today, thanks to the ham-fisted authoritarianism of Keir Starmer, the BBC and the police, their popularity has soared along with their notoriety. READ MORE: Court bid to block Palestine Action terrorist ban fails There are also broader principles at stake. By demanding that the state use its powers against organisations we find offensive, we legitimise the accelerating trend towards repression sweeping the globe. The overwhelming vote in the House of Commons this week to ban Palestine Action is a chilling warning of what we are up against. Those of us who support an independent Scotland should not mimic the right. Authoritarianism is a hallmark not of strength and confidence but offweakness. The green, white and orange tricolour was adopted as the national flag of Ireland by the insurgent republican movement in 1919 to symbolise peace and unity across the religious and cultural divide. Like it or loathe it, Orangeism is part of the identity of a significant minority of Scots. A confident, modern nation should be prepared to live with that. It should guarantee protection of the rights of minority groups irrespective of whether they meet with our approval. Yes, many people are offended by Orange marches. No doubt I will be deluged with objections that those involved in the Orange Order are bigots and knuckle-draggers who don't belong in a forward-looking Scotland. The behaviour of some who turn out to support marches – invariably intoxicated – has contributed to the stereotype. The truth is many Orange Order members are embarrassed by the conduct of those they call the 'hangers-on' because it undermines their quest for respectability. To tar everyone with the same brush because of the moronic behaviour of some is unfair – and the same point applies to all organisations, from football clubs to political parties. It also fails to understand the complexities of identity, community, friendship, loyalty and tradition. I grew up and spent most of my adult life in some of the poorest parts of Glasgow where Irish republicanism and Orange loyalism have long co-existed side by side. I've attended Orange funerals. I stood on Poll Tax human barricades alongside staunch loyalists and ardent Irish republicans. I raised money outside Celtic Park with striking miners from Ayrshire who were careful to conceal their King Billy tattoos. I had members of the Orange Order, along with Irish republican activists, display posters in support of my socialist candidacy in a council by-election in Govan years before the peace process in Northern Ireland. (Image: David Wardle) Yes, there is a core of anti-Catholicism in the Orange tradition. Importantly, for the official Orange Order, it is directed at the institution and the doctrines of the church, rather towards individual Catholics And even then its criticisms are mild in tone and content compared, for example, to the views expressed by Richard Dawkins, and many others of an atheist persuasion. Ten years ago, there was a great outpouring of support among liberals and leftists for the Paris-based magazine Charlie Hebdo after 12 of its employees were massacred by two Muslim gunmen. The cartoons that provoked the atrocity were more brutally offensive by far in their depiction of Islam than any criticism of Catholicism ever made by the Orange Order. But the 'Je Suis Charlie' upsurge was not an expression of agreement with the vile cartoons. It was a defence of the right of free expression. There are more insidious and dangerous forces to be concerned about than the dwindling and ageing membership of the Orange Order. Who do we proscribe next? Nigel Farage and Reform UK? Or is Nigel, with his millions of voters and huge public profile, too big to ban? So, like Keir Starmer, do we just concentrate on the easier targets? These are just the questions we need to address before playing with fire. Much of the wisdom of the ancient Greeks is still highly relevant today, so be very careful what you wish for, as they warned.


Scotsman
an hour ago
- Scotsman
Scotland's lawyers need to embrace the digital transformation
Clients want to manage their affairs securely, remotely and on their own terms, writes Josif Grace Sign up to our Scotsman Money newsletter, covering all you need to know to help manage your money. Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to The Scotsman, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... The Law Commission of England and Wales recently published final recommendations to modernise the Wills Act, including proposals to allow for the digital signing and witnessing of wills. While these changes do not apply in Scotland, they raise timely and relevant questions for the legal profession north of the Border. Scotland's succession law operates within a distinct legal framework, with its own rules around capacity, witnessing and execution. At present, there is no indication that equivalent reforms are imminent. However, the broader momentum around digital transformation in legal processes, particularly where client engagement and accessibility are concerned, is hard to ignore. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad These proposals are not simply about introducing new technology. They reflect a growing drive to reduce friction, simplify legacy planning, and align legal services with how people increasingly manage their affairs — securely, remotely, and on their own terms. Law firms that take steps now to modernise their approach will be better prepared to lead if and when the landscape shifts (Picture: Despite the fundamental importance of will-making, more than half of UK adults still do not have a will. The reasons vary, but a consistent barrier is the perception that the process is too formal, too complex, or not designed with modern life in mind. While legal reform in Scotland may not be imminent, client expectations are shifting across the UK. This presents a challenge as well as an opportunity for Scottish firms. Individuals increasingly expect the same clarity, flexibility and security from legal services that they experience in banking, healthcare and financial planning. Firms that can deliver that while still upholding legal rigour will be well placed to meet demand. Even without legislative change, Scottish firms are already improving the client journey by adopting digital infrastructure. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Platforms like Legado are being used by firms across the UK – including by Co-Op Legal Services, one of the largest providers of estate planning and probate services in the UK – to securely store and share documents, support encrypted client communications, and facilitate digital signing where appropriate. Josif Grace, CEO and Founder, Legado (Picture: Stewart Attwood) This infrastructure is not about replacing legal processes but reinforcing them. It gives professionals the ability to manage documents securely, trace actions clearly, and offer clients long-term visibility over their affairs. By embedding tools such as digital vaults, audit logs and identity verification into workflows, firms can increase both efficiency and trust. These enhancements support better client engagement and reduce the administrative burden, while maintaining the core legal safeguards that underpin the process of will-making. Scotland may not yet be pursuing the same legislative path as England and Wales, but the profession is still part of a wider shift in how legal services are delivered. The question is no longer just about legal reform. It is also about operational readiness and the experience clients receive. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad This moment provides space to reflect. Are our systems and processes keeping pace with the expectations of the people we serve? Firms that take steps now to modernise their approach will be better prepared to lead if and when the legal landscape shifts, and will deliver greater value to their clients in the meantime.


The Guardian
an hour ago
- The Guardian
Has Trump taken leadership lessons from cold war-era Africa?
Ever since Donald Trump returned to power, pundits have struggled to find apt analogies for his style of governance. Some liken his loyalty demands, patronage networks and intimidation tactics to the methods of a mafia don. Others cast him as a feudal overlord, operating a personality cult rooted in charisma and bound by oaths, rewards and threats rather than laws and institutions. A growing number of artists and AI creatives are depicting him as a Viking warrior. And of course, fierce debates continue over whether the moment has arrived for serious comparisons with fascist regimes. While some of these analogies may offer a degree of insight, they are fundamentally limited by their Eurocentrism – as if 21st-century US politics must still be interpreted solely through the lens of old-world history. If we truly want to understand what is unfolding, we must move beyond Scandinavian sagas and Sicilian crime lore. I've found it increasingly difficult not to see striking parallels between recent events in the US and the rise of cold war-era dictatorships in Africa. It began with Trump's renaming of the Gulf of Mexico and Denali, which recalled how Mobutu Sese Seko, on a personal whim, changed Congo into Zaire in 1971. Geographical renaming has been extensive in Africa because of its history of colonialism, but now the US has started changing names too. Trump's deployment of national guard troops and marines to Los Angeles after protests over immigration raids also echoed Mobutu's preferred method for dealing with civil unrest: presidential guards patrolling the streets to crush protests. The blunt use of military force to suppress domestic opposition is a tactic associated with figures such as Idi Amin in Uganda, Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe and Paul Biya in Cameroon – albeit with deadlier consequences. Trump's aggressive deportation of undocumented Latino workers also resembles Amin's 1972 expulsion of Uganda's Asian minority. Amin framed it as a way to return economic power to 'the ordinary Ugandan', but it led to financial ruin. The embrace of bizarre, theatrical economic measures that look great on television but wreak havoc in practice is another striking parallel. Trump's tariffs, announced with patriotic fanfare on 'liberation day', evoke Mugabe's grandiose land reforms of the 1980s, which hastened Zimbabwe's collapse. Anti-intellectualism, egomania and delusions of grandeur were hallmarks of dictatorships in Africa. Ivory Coast's Félix Houphouët-Boigny built a replica of St Peter's Basilica in his home town. Jean-Bédel Bokassa crowned himself 'emperor' of Central African Republic. 'Marshal' Mobutu ensured that Concorde could land in his native village. A similar extravaganza of ambition has reached the US, with Trump accepting a luxury Boeing 747 from Qatar and hoping his face will be carved into Mount Rushmore beside George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt and Abraham Lincoln. The army parade in Washington on the day the US military turned 250 and Trump turned 79 was another moment of self-aggrandising narcissism. A populist personality cult and masculine pride often go hand in hand with deep paranoia and contempt. Trump's relentless war on academia and the free press fits squarely within this tradition. In Equatorial Guinea, President Francisco Macías Nguema outlawed the word 'intellectual' and prosecuted academics. Amin terrorised universities to the point of brain-drain. At first glance, viewing Trump as a westernised version of one of Africa's dictators may seem jarring. After all, his interest in the continent appears limited to its natural resources, not its political models. The trade tariffs and travel bans he recently unleashed have hit several African countries hard, and his cruel withdrawal of aid hardly suggests admiration for anything African. What's more, Trump has never set foot on African soil and reportedly dismissed the continent as a cluster of 'shithole countries'. Only when a raw materials deal is in sight does he spring into life, such as last week when a 'peace deal' between the Democratic Republic of the Congo and Rwanda was signed at the White House. 'We're getting, for the United States, a lot of the mineral rights from the Congo as part of it,' Trump said. But once the comparison between Trump and a cold war dictator is made, it becomes hard to unsee. And it shouldn't surprise us. The postcolonial dictator was, to a significant degree, an American creation. Sooner or later, it had to come home. The US supported repressive regimes unconditionally during the cold war, viewing them as bulwarks against communism – not just in Africa, but in Asia and Latin America. Dictators such as Ferdinand Marcos in the Philippines, Suharto in Indonesia, Augusto Pinochet in Chile and Jorge Rafaél Videla in Argentina remained in power for decades thanks to US backing. When the Soviet Union collapsed, the US abruptly abandoned these allies and championed the gospel of democratisation. Though the 1990s were rich in rhetoric about human rights, good governance and the rule of law, on the ground the spectre of autocracy never vanished entirely. We're now witnessing a startling reversal. With the demise of USAID and its retreat from a role promoting global democracy, it's not only that the US has turned its back on democratising countries in Africa and elsewhere – but that it has begun to imitate some of the worst historical examples of authoritarian rule. Viewing Trump's regime through the lens of cold war-era autocracies in postcolonial states offers a framework that is both alarming and oddly reassuring. If there is one enduring lesson from the history of autocracy in Africa, it is this: things can turn ugly, fast. Cold war dictatorships were ruthless, bloody and often ended in chaos and state collapse. Yet their histories also show that when courts are neutered and legislatures reduced to rubber stamps, civil society, independent media and the moral force of religious and academic institutions can emerge as the last formidable strongholds against tyranny. After all, sooner or later, dictators die, whereas collective efforts remain. David Van Reybrouck is philosopher laureate for the Netherlands and Flanders. His books include Congo: The Epic History of a People and Revolusi: Indonesia and the Birth of the Modern World