Organizations are growing serious about which nation's rules apply to their data. Experts point to geopolitical tensions as a main contributing factor.
Ateliers d'écriture #Solarpunk à l'UTC de Compiègne : imaginer un monde #LowTech en 2042 autour du projet #UPLOAD (Université Populaire Libre, Ouverte, Accessible et Décentralisée).
Dans ce cadre, #Framasoft participe à la conférence #Archipel (6-9 juil. à Compiègne) pour y co-animer un atelier d’écriture solarpunk.
Depuis 2024, Framasoft participe à l’animation d’ateliers d’écriture solarpunk à l’Université de Technologie de Compiègne pour imaginer un monde low-tech en 2042 autour de la future UPLOAD de Compiègne.
L’action se déroule sur le territoire de la Commune Libre de Compiègne, et plus précisément dans le cadre de l’Upload, l’Université Populaire Libre Ouverte Accessible et Décentralisée, une fédération internationale de lieux autonomes, destinés à la formation et à la recherche, confrontés aux défis d’un monde en effondrement économique et technologique, soumis à des crises écologiques et des conflits internationaux, mais ouverts à l’invention de nouveaux modes de vivre ensemble et de nouveaux rapports aux autres vivants et non-vivants. (voir notre annonce en 2024).
Pendant une semaine, des élèves ingénieurs s’adonnent à l’écriture de fiction pour penser un autre rapport à la technologie, avec des pratiques pédagogiques originales pour elleux dans leur formation, issues de l’éducation populaire, comme le débat mouvant ou l’arpentage (proposé autour de pizzas ou de lasagnes pour les appâter). Ils finissent par faire lecture d’un extrait de leur travail en direct à la radio Graf’hit.
Contenu de la semaine de cours sous licence libre CC BY SA sur librecours.net
Une partie des textes est retravaillé chemin faisant / a posteriori et est publié sur https://punkardie.fr/upload/ également sous licence CC BY SA.
Un premier recueil de textes basé sur ces productions (placées sous licence libre) est d’ailleurs en préparation en partenariat avec C&F édition, nous vous en reparlerons prochainement.
Et Archipel dans tout ça ?
Aller écouter l’annonce enregistrée et diffusée sur la radio Graf’Hitt
Et ce mois de juillet, toujours dans le cadre du partenariat avec l’UTC, Framasoft participera à la conférence Archipel à Compiègne, à l’UTC, du 6 au 9 juillet.
Archipel est une communauté de recherche francophone transdisciplinaire sur les enjeux de l’Anthropocène (limites planétaires, risques systémiques, leviers d’action) au sein de laquelle des rencontres et conférences sont organisées accueillant symposiums de recherche et ateliers. SI le programme vous semble impressionnant, il s’agit néanmoins d’un événement ouvert à toutes et tous, absolument pas réservé aux universitaires, chercheurs ou chercheuses.
Dans ce cadre, Framasoft, participera à un atelier autour de l’économie sociale et solidaire le mercredi 8 et co-animera un atelier d’écriture solarpunk le jeudi 9 juillet, qui présentera le genre solarpunk et l’univers UPLOAD. Comme les étudiants et étudiantes, les participants seront invité·es à plancher à leur tour sur des contributions afin d’imaginer un futur désirable, autour de thématiques proposées.
A rural area off Highway 14 just north of the small town of Moorcroft, in eastern Wyoming
They were pillars of their church, congregants in a little-known denomination that sets itself apart from the world and teaches that even the most unconscionable acts can be wiped away — not just forgiven, but forgotten and never spoken of again.
So it went in a rural Wyoming church, where a man was accused of sexually abusing young girls hundreds of times in the pews during Sunday services. Though the preacher knew of the abuse, he never reported it to police, local prosecutors said. Instead, he told the man to seek therapy.
In Minnesota, a man from the same faith admitted that he began entering the bedrooms of his daughter and son at night around the time each of them turned 12. He and his siblings grew up in the church and were sexually abused themselves, and then he repeated the abuse with his own children.
And in Washington state, preachers knew a member of their congregation had sexually abused several young boys. Instead of reporting him to police, they allowed him to ask for forgiveness, according to a family member, and he continued to sexually abuse children. He was later found guilty of raping the 9-year-old son of a church member and sentenced to life in prison.
The abusers and victims all belonged to the Old Apostolic Lutheran Church, or the OALC, a Scandinavian-rooted revivalist church that teaches its followers that heaven is reserved just for them. To get there, according to current and former members, they must follow a strict doctrine, which emphasizes asking for forgiveness for their sins and says that being forgiven by a fellow church member washes away those sins.
What’s more, the church teaches that once a perpetrator is forgiven, anyone who speaks about the wrongdoing — including the victim — can be accused of harboring an unforgiving heart. Those who have left the church, as well as some who are still with it, say this means the burden of sin shifts from the person who committed the act to the person who refuses to let the matter rest.
Sexual abuse survivors say these rituals have created a culture where allegations of abuse are resolved outside of the criminal justice system and the victims must bear their pain alone or risk going to hell. In some families, sexual abuse stretches across generations, ensnaring a parent, child and grandchild.
“This is what I would call institutionalism of abuse of young women and children,” said DaNece Day, the prosecuting attorney for Crook County in Wyoming, whose office has charged two OALC members in the past two years.
In Wyoming, Crook County Attorney DaNece Day’s office has brought charges against members of the Old Apostolic Lutheran Church.
Day and other prosecutors said one of the biggest obstacles to breaking the cycle is the way church members move among congregations spread across the U.S. and Canada, often hundreds of miles apart but tightly bound by large, multigenerational family networks.
Last fall, ProPublica and the Minnesota Star Tribune reported that preachers in Minnesota had known for years about allegations that one of its members, a man named Clint Massie, had sexually abused young girls in the congregation. But instead of reporting it to police, church leaders urged some of the victims to take part in sessions where they were brought face-to-face with Massie and encouraged to forgive the abuse.
Now, new reporting by the two news organizations shows how the sexual abuse of children in the OALC, as well as the failure by church leaders to report it to authorities, is a persistent and national problem.
Some current and former OALC members are calling on elders from what the church regards as its mother congregation in Sweden — where the church originated — to intervene. In fact, those elders, who don’t have authority over the American church but wield considerable influence, are coming to the U.S. and Canada this summer to meet with congregations. What they’ll find are a growing number of criminal cases against church members and increasing legal scrutiny of leaders for failing to report allegations of sexual abuse to police.
In a statement, representatives from the Swedish church said the cases are isolated incidents and they didn’t “observe any pattern” among the tens of thousands of members in 34 OALC congregations in the U.S. and Canada. They said sexual abuse should be reported to authorities and that it was possible “some matters have been handled improperly or without sufficient knowledge.” And they acknowledged that church guidelines “are being reviewed with the American missionary pastors in order to ensure compliance.”
Representatives of the OALC in the U.S. and Canada said in an email that they also “do not perceive there to be a general pattern of behavior,” describing sexual abuse as a serious and persistent problem across society. They acknowledged that bringing a victim to face their abuser, as a pastor for the OALC church did with Massie, can be traumatic. But they defended the church’s doctrine of forgiveness, saying it was not a means to conceal wrongdoing or to shield offenders from legal consequences, and no one is coerced to forgive or to ask for forgiveness. If those teachings had been misapplied or misunderstood in some cases, they said, it “does not reflect an error in our doctrine.”
ProPublica and the Star Tribune interviewed 20 people who said they were sexually abused, almost all as children, in OALC communities, along with parents of victims as young as 3. Reporters also traveled to OALC churches around the country and reviewed court and police documents from at least eight cases, along with victims’ statements to local authorities.
Their abusers were family members, other children or men who were trusted to be alone with children because they are part of the same insular faith community. Some victims spoke anonymously for fear of retribution from the church or their own families. Others identified themselves as well as their abusers publicly, unafraid of the repercussions.
Many of those victims said church leaders pressured them to keep quiet. In Minnesota, police records describe a woman telling a young girl that her abuse, which began when she was around 5 or 6 years old, was not a big deal and she “needed to get over it.” In Washington state, a police report notes a woman told law enforcement that her preacher had, for “spiritual reasons,” discouraged her from contacting authorities after her daughter told her she’d been raped by three men from church.
“We’re always told that what the preachers tell us, that’s coming from God,” explained one woman, who said she, too, was told not to speak of her abuse. “Who’s going to argue with that?”
The Old Apostolic Lutheran Church in Moorcroft
Sexual abuse in the OALC has sometimes been a legacy passed from one generation to the next — hidden, quietly endured, repeated. Lorie Peldo was sexually abused for eight years by her older brother, starting when she was only 2, she said in an interview. A quarter century later, after the memories began to resurface during therapy, Peldo’s mother told her that she’d known about the abuse. But on the advice of her preacher in Battle Ground, Washington, her parents didn’t report the crimes to the police. Instead, they took her brother to a doctor, she said.
Peldo said she eventually confronted her brother, who said that it had haunted him his entire life. She tried to forgive him, she said, but the weight of what he’d done did not lift. She fell into such deep despair that she tried to commit suicide. She said she ended up in a psychiatric hospital. Her brother later died; her parents are also deceased.
It didn’t stop there. On a church road trip, Clint Massie — who was sentenced for child abuse in Duluth, Minnesota, last year — sexually abused Peldo’s daughter, Tonya, when she was 11 and he was a teenager, according to Tonya Peldo’s statements to law enforcement. Peldo’s case was included in the police file involving Massie, but it wasn’t charged criminally, according to a prosecutor, because the statute of limitations had run out. Massie has not responded to repeated requests for comment.
Tonya Peldo told investigators from the St. Louis County Sheriff’s Office in Duluth that she didn’t see Massie again until some two decades later, after she moved to the city and recognized him passing out candy to kids at the church.
She said she told the pastors about what he’d done to her, yet one of the preachers told her to ask Massie for forgiveness, as if she had wronged him. “I was like, ‘No. No!’” she said in an interview. It would be more than a decade before Massie was charged with sexual abuse crimes.
In 2019, Tonya’s daughter was also sexually abused, making her the third generation of Peldo girls to be victims. The daughter was 14 when a 25-year-old relative, Blake Nelson, bought her a pack of cigarettes and then invited her into his trailer in Clark County, Washington, so that he could teach her how to give a massage, according to court records.
Tonya Peldo, her mother and her daughter all say they were abused by members of the OALC.
Nelson pleaded guilty to charges of communication with a minor for immoral purposes and fourth-degree assault in the case involving Tonya Peldo’s daughter. At his sentencing, Tonya told the judge how church leaders had tried to keep her daughter from reporting the abuse to police. Nelson’s own lawyer, Michele Michalek, said the pastors repeatedly called her law office to insist the case should be handled internally.
“They think that law enforcement shouldn’t be involved,” Michalek said.
A judge in Minnesota commented on the cyclical nature of abuse in 2023, when a man from an OALC family turned himself in to police after repeatedly abusing his son and daughter. At his sentencing, the judge took into account that the man and his siblings, who grew up in the church, had also been victims of child sexual abuse. She said she found it “almost incomprehensible” that the adults in his life didn’t know about the abuse he and his siblings had suffered as children.
“All I can see are the ripples of consequences for you and all of your siblings, who were abused or abusers, and then for your children,” the judge said.
A clipping from a 1951 newspaper showing Eija Marttinen, seen second from right and then called Tanninen, and her family after arriving in Nova Scotia from Finland, shortly before her father started the first OALC church in Canada.Courtesy of the Marttinen/Tanninen family
The OALC church is a branch of a broader faith called Laestadianism, a conservative Christian revival movement that began in the mid-1800s in northern Scandinavia. In the 19th and early 20th centuries, as millions of Scandinavians migrated to the U.S., some followers of the Laestadian movement brought with them more than language, traditions and religious devotion.
Alongside the faith came a deeply insular church culture shaped by strict obedience and a doctrine of forgiveness that critics and former members say enabled the concealment of wrongdoing.
One of them was Eija Marttinen. A photo in a newspaper in 1951 shows Marttinen as a little girl wearing a Finnish sailor suit and braids, standing alongside 14 family members and several large suitcases. Her family had just arrived in Nova Scotia from Finland, and they would soon launch Canada’s first Old Apostolic Lutheran Church. In the photo, Marttinen is smiling brightly toward the horizon, as if spellbound by the endless possibilities of a new world.
But even then, at age 9, Marttinen harbored a secret that would be the source of a lifetime of emotional pain. Now 84 and living in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, she said in an interview that her older brother sexually assaulted her starting when she was 5. Another brother soon started abusing her, too, she said. Both brothers are now dead.
Years later, Marttinen said she came to learn that there were other predators in the church. She kept silent about her abuse for most of her life, fearing she would be forced to forgive and still live with the stigma if she came forward. She only told her own daughter about the extent of the abuse in recent months, after reading the ProPublica and Star Tribune stories.
“They can do whatever they want and you have to forgive them. That’s not right. But you go along because you were brought up in it.
“I wish I wasn’t,” she added.
The Laestadian churches in Scandinavia have faced their own reckonings. From 2009 to 2011, a Finnish child welfare scholar, Johanna Hurtig, documented widespread sexual abuse cases among Finnish church members and found that the concept of forgiveness of sins had been warped into a tool to silence victims.
At first, church leaders were defensive, according to news reports. But they later acknowledged “serious mistakes” in how the church handled sexual abuse, including pressuring victims to forgive offenders instead of reporting them. They urged members to report abuse to police and child welfare authorities.
Several men were convicted in Finnish courts and sentenced to long prison terms.
In 2017, Norwegian police documented 151 cases of rape and abuse, many with child victims, in a remote northern village of some 2,000 people. Following a newspaper investigation, the police said they tied many of the cases to members of Laestadianism, with some incidents dating to 1953. The police found the practice of forgiving and forgetting often led to abuse being considered “settled” internally, effectively silencing victims and protecting perpetrators.
Moorcroft is small but home to a thriving OALC congregation.
The church’s emphasis on large families has created booms in places like Minnesota, Wyoming and southern Washington. Families rely heavily on one another socially, financially and spiritually while keeping their distance from what members often call “the world” — outsiders and secular influences viewed as dangerous or corrupting. Even ordinary activities like watching TV and dancing are treated as transgressions that must be confessed. One abuse victim said she felt anxious every time she turned on her car radio, fearing that if she listened to a pop song and died in a crash before asking forgiveness, she could go to hell.
Some church members hope the Swedish elders address sexual abuse during their visit, including the mother of a 15-year-old girl who revealed in May 2025 that her father had been abusing her for years. It happened both in Minnesota and after they moved to Washington, according to court records. The mother, according to child protection services reports, said she told her preacher about the abuse.
Authorities did not learn of the allegations until August, when her daughter saw a therapist after weeks of her mother trying to get help through church channels, according to the reports. That visit triggered an investigation by child protection authorities in Washington, who substantiated the complaint. Prosecutors in Minnesota charged the father with criminal sexual conduct, but he hasn’t been charged in Washington. The father has asked the court for a public defender and has not yet entered a plea. He did not respond to voice and text messages seeking comment.
Asked why church officials did not immediately contact law enforcement, a spokesperson for the church declined to answer, saying the case was “complex” and in authorities’ hands. However, he said that, in general, spiritual advisers need to use counselors and other professionals “to determine if there is a reasonable cause to report as dictated by law.”
But the mother said it was she — not the church — who set up the therapy session.
“Their job is to pick up the phone and say, ‘Hi, I’ve got some confusing, conflicting information but I’m concerned for the safety of this person,’” she said. “They don’t have to be investigators, all they need to do is tell somebody.”
The mother said she plans to raise the church’s failure to notify police with elders when they visit this summer. Nonetheless, she plans to remain in the church. Asked why, she said, “Because I want to go to heaven.”
An Old Apostolic Lutheran Church in Brush Prairie, Washington
Last summer, in the rural expanse of eastern Wyoming, Moorcroft police drove up the long dirt road leading to the OALC church, a large brick building on the edge of town with a white cross emblazoned under the eaves.
The investigators were looking for records that could verify the membership of a man who several children said had abused them during services. His name was Charles Massie — the brother of Clint Massie, who had pleaded guilty to similar crimes in Minnesota months earlier.
Over 10 years, authorities alleged, Charles Massie had sexually abused at least seven girls. Some of the abuse occurred at his house and some at his businesses, where young girls worked part time. But the vast majority of the abuse occurred at church, according to court documents. Investigators tallied 832 incidents where Massie sat near the girls’ parents, allegedly fondling the girls’ genitals and breasts. One victim, who told the police she was 5 or 6 years old when she was abused by Massie, said that he “raped me with his fingers.”
Wyoming has charged Charles Massie with nine counts of sexual abuse and sexual battery. He is being held in jail in Nebraska, where prosecutors also have charged him in connection with sexual assaults. He has pleaded not guilty in both states. He could not be reached for comment.
When investigators in Moorcroft contacted families of the victims, they learned that the families already knew about the abuse. One had learned of it three years earlier, according to charges. But according to court records, none of them had told the police. Instead, the charges say, the father of some of the victims had told their preacher, David Lindberg, about the abuse in 2024. Charles Massie would later turn himself in, but not for another year.
Day, the top prosecutor in Crook County, Wyoming, said there was “no support” for victims and the church did nothing to punish Charles Massie. “There are no consequences for him,” she said. “He’s allowed to sit in church with them every Sunday, even after they’ve come forward and said, ‘This man has been hurting us.’” She said Charles Massie turned himself in to the Moorcroft police after he admitted to a mental health provider that he had abused children; the provider told him that they would report Massie if he didn’t go to police.
Lindberg disputed the characterization that he did not act when Charles Massie confessed to him. “All I can say is, when I first heard about it, he came to me and he had a problem, so I told him he needs to go get therapy and turn himself in to the police,” Lindberg said. “And he did.”
He referred additional questions to a church spokesperson, Troy Massie, who is a relative of Charles and Clint Massie. In written responses, Troy Massie said the church told Charles to stop attending services after he confessed to Lindberg, though he could listen to services on the phone.
“We continue to improve our efforts as needed to protect all children,” he wrote.
OALC Member Speaks During His Sentencing for Rape
During his sentencing hearing in 2017, Carsie Tikka, who had been convicted of raping a child, lashed out at his lawyer, the judge and his accusers.Obtained by ProPublica and the Minnesota Star Tribune
The Wyoming church isn’t the only one to face accusations that it failed to report abusers. In southwestern Washington in 2017, a jury convicted church member Carsie Tikka of raping a 9-year-old boy. But one woman, who was a member of the church at the time, said that years before he was charged, Tikka had assaulted her stepchildren and the leaders had done nothing to stop him. Instead, Tikka asked her family for forgiveness.
After Tikka was convicted at trial, a court-ordered psychiatrist wrote in a report that Tikka had “a history of offending 29 males,” an allegation that Tikka denied in court. At his sentencing, Tikka said his conscience was clean. He said he had already “received the testimony of sins forgiven” by one of God’s disciples.
“You clearly by your statement here are not remorseful,” the judge remarked before sentencing him to life in prison without parole. “You put the blame on everyone else.”
Then Tikka illustrated the central problem facing prosecutors and victims alike — a powerful religious culture that prioritizes spiritual absolution over secular justice — with his final, defiant words:
“My sins have been forgiven,” Tikka told the judge. “Have yours?”
New research by Mitel has revealed a widening gap between AI adoption and enablement, with limited support and low confidence contributing to the rise of Shadow AI and unapproved AI usage. The State of Workforce Communication report found that while workplace communication is mission-critical, tools are misaligned with how teams execute, forcing employees to quietly compensate at measurable cost to productivity, security and service quality.
The global survey of 2,000 IT decision-makers (ITDMs) and desk and frontline employees across diverse industries, including healthcare, public sector, retail, manufacturing, financial services and hospitality, found that nearly two-thirds (63%) of workers feel pressured to “make it work” with systems that are not designed for their needs. This situation creates friction in productivity and service delivery while increasing operational and financial risks associated with limited control over data custody, performance, and business continuity.
In parallel, 93% of ITDMs consider communication tools integral to everyday business operations, yet only 34% of workers say those tools are highly effective. This highlights a gap between how communication tools are deployed and how employees actually work.
Eric Hanson, CMO at Mitel, said: “Organisations are making significant investments in AI, communication infrastructure, and modernisation. Yet more than half of employees report that these tools fall short at the moments that matter most. The challenge is not a lack of technology, but a lack of alignment with the realities of work. In fast-moving, high-pressure, and increasingly mobile environments, communication must be immediate, reliable and context-appropriate – or it risks breaking down precisely when it is needed most.”
While 93% of IT leaders consider communication tools strategically critical, Mitel’s report highlights the complexity of delivering consistent, effective communication across a distributed, mobile, and frontline-driven workforce. 89% of IT leaders acknowledge that some parts of the workforce are better served by communication tools than others. This points to a gap between intention and reality that is reflected in the day-to-day experience of desk and frontline workers. Over six in ten (63%) feel pressured to “make it work” when communication systems are not designed for their needs, reaching 71% for frontline workers.
The research found that teams are relying on an average of seven disconnected tools to complete even routine tasks, potentially leading to ‘tool overload’ and fatigue.
Over half of workers say they waste time switching between communication tools and half of frontline workers feel increased pressure during busy or critical moments.
These inefficiencies extend beyond internal workflows, directly affecting service delivery, operational consistency, and, in some cases, safety. The burden is highest for frontline workers, where communication failures carry greater consequences. 54% of these workers report delays in completing tasks or responding to situations, 46% say that it impacts quality of service, and 35% even report that it creates safety risks for customers, patients, or staff.
These workarounds also introduce significant security risks to organisations. The report reveals that when faced with communication issues, workers are finding their own ways to keep work moving. Over three-quarters (76%) use non-approved communication channels for work-related purposes, increasing risks such as data exposure, compliance breaches, cybersecurity threats and a loss of visibility and control, according to 90% of ITDMs. This behaviour is even more pronounced among frontline workers, who are over twice as likely to use non-approved tools often to respond to their customers and patients quickly and effectively when sanctioned tools fall short.
While business leaders are prioritising AI investments to improve efficiency and modernise operations, adoption across the workforce remains uneven, and many workers feel unsupported. The report highlights that 52% of workers regularly use AI tools, but only 33% feel very comfortable using them in their day-to-day work. At the same time, 66% consider their organisation does not adequately support AI use, introducing a new emerging risk: Shadow AI.
It is evidenced by the fact that half of workers turn to non-approved AI tools, outpacing their organisations as they move to drive functional productivity and operational velocity. In the meantime, IT leaders indicate growing concerns around incorrect or misleading outputs (76%), whether AI use meets regulatory or compliance requirements (75%), and how data is stored, used and protected (75%).
As Sam Soares, CRO of CultureAI, previously told the Guru: “One of the biggest risks facing organisations today is the use of undocumented or unapproved AI tools – or shadow AI – operating on company networks or using company data. These tools are used by employees without organisational oversight, introducing significant security, compliance and operational risks. As the number of AI apps proliferates, it’s an increasingly common occurrence.”
AI is not yet delivering consistent value for the workforce, and managing its pace and risks remains a shared challenge for both IT leaders and workers. Clear guidance, integration, and alignment with existing workflows are needed to reduce complexity and risk rather than add to them.
Messaging platforms remain the preferred choice for everyday collaboration, but voice becomes the most trusted and effective channel in urgent or high-stakes situations, across generations.
Nearly eight in ten workers (79%) rely on voice communication when rapid action and immediate alignment are required, highlighting the enduring value of real-time human interaction in critical moments. The trend is particularly pronounced among healthcare professionals, where communication speed can directly influence operational outcomes and patient care, with 56% adopting a voice-first approach during urgent situations. However, this can create issues as deepfakes and productivity platform based attacks arise.
To address these challenges and close the gap between investment and employee experience, organisations must reconcile two priorities: offering employees the flexibility to choose the communication tools and channels best suited to each situation while ensuring strong standards for security and compliance.
In this context, hybrid infrastructure became the operating reality: 87% of ITDMs already rely on it for their communication tools and 93% confirm that it provides the flexibility and control needed, without unmanageable complexities. This model allows organisations to modernise communication systems while maintaining oversight and stability across increasingly complex environments.
“While there is broad alignment between IT leaders and employees on the need to evolve workforce communication, this research underscores how far most organisations remain from achieving that objective. They must address foundational challenges while navigating increasing technical complexity, heightened security requirements and ongoing modernisation efforts. These dynamics highlight the need for more practical, user-centred approaches, particularly solutions that are seamlessly integrated into everyday workflows across roles and work environments to ultimately drive performance and business outcomes,” said Luiz Domingos, CTO of Mitel.
Je suis un utilisateur récent de Framagenda.
Je fonctionne beaucoup avec un code couleur pour repérer en un coup d’oeil les types de RDV dans ma journée.
Depuis la MAJ, ces couleurs sont toutes passées en transparence par défaut (donc couleurs fades et parfois indiférenciables). De plus, mes évenements passés sont encore plus transparents (quasi blanc). Y a t il un paramètre dans mon appli à modifier que je n’aurais pas trouvé afin de repasser cela comme avant ?
Sinon, si je n’ai pas la main sur cela, comment le remonter aux dev ?
I was a new reporter at KQED in 2021 when former elementary teacher Joseph Brian Houg was sentenced to more than three decades in prison for sexually abusing 10 students. He’d taught at the same San Francisco Bay Area school for more than two decades. Were there warning signs?
I soon discovered parents on social media saying they had complained to school administrators for years about Houg. I also knew that schools could release such complaints if they were substantiated or if teachers were disciplined. So I filed public records requests with Houg’s school — something anyone can do.
I received 43 pages of records within a few months showing that parents had reported Houg to the principal at least four times since 2009. They complained about him for asking students to strip down to their underwear in his classroom in order to try on costumes for a play he was directing, and for coming into their changing room. They also complained about his touching boys’ chests or stomachs and tapping one boy on the butt. I learned that the principal had twice warned Houg to stop touching students. But he was allowed to keep teaching. (The principal said in a deposition that while Houg’s actions crossed professional boundaries, they were not reported to her as sexual.)
Over the next two years, I reported on similar cases of teachers remaining in the classroom after complaints of unwanted touching. Another Bay Area elementary school, in Benicia, reported a teacher to the state’s licensing body after he resigned due to accusations of misconduct. He was hired by another school, and his educator license remained in good standing until he was criminally charged. (He is currently fighting those charges.)
This raised a whole different set of questions for me: Should these teachers have been allowed to keep teaching in new schools? How much about a teacher’s disciplinary history did potential employers know? And what was the state’s responsibility for acting on, and sharing, the information it had about these teachers?
After I entered journalism school at the University of California, Berkeley in 2023, I wanted to investigate how common it was for teachers to continue working with kids after schools found that they had committed misconduct. California law bars the teacher licensing agency from releasing disciplinary records to the public, so my classmate and I requested records from the 300 largest school districts in California. We asked for complaints of teacher sexual misconduct made to schools in the five previous years. We also asked for any reports sent by schools to the state’s teacher licensing agency, which are required to be filed when public school educators are fired or resign due to alleged misconduct.
Dozens of districts responded within two months. We began building a spreadsheet of teachers against whom complaints were raised. Getting the records was slow: California requires public agencies to determine whether they have records to disclose within 10 days, and to release them promptly, but most dragged their feet. Whenever schools stopped responding, I copied school board members and attorneys on my emails, citing the law. By the time I graduated more than a year after filing the records requests, I had received more than 350 complaints, which I used in my recent investigation with KQED and ProPublica.
To this day, Los Angeles Unified, the largest school district in California, still has not released any records pertaining to teacher misconduct cases that it reported to the state. Instead, the district said it would charge me $8,000 ($100 an hour for 80 hours of work) for it to “investigate approximately 2,500 potentially responsive personnel files.” The First Amendment Coalition, a California nonprofit that advocates for free speech and government transparency, is representing me in a lawsuit filed in May. We argue that the Los Angeles school district is violating public records laws with its failure to release documents pertaining to alleged educator misconduct. A Los Angeles Unified spokesperson told me in a written statement this week that its policies balance the public’s right to access records with “responsible stewardship of public resources” and the law.
Districts slow-walking their responses isn’t the only obstacle to getting records from schools. Districts typically notify teachers before releasing complaints to give them the opportunity to block the documents’ release. The former Benicia teacher who was criminally charged with sexually abusing students in 2024 sued to block the release of complaints made against him at two school districts. The First Amendment Coalition represented me in that case, too, and we won. It took nine months to get the records. In another case in which I had requested records, the court granted an injunction preventing release of the teacher’s records, but the legal filings contained the details of the allegations against him, so the nature of the complaint became public anyway.
At least four teachers have called or emailed me directly to ask why I’m requesting their disciplinary records. They wanted to share their side of the story, which I was more than happy to hear, and some argued that their cases were not worth my time. One asked me to retract my request. (I did not.) Another sent a 1,700-word email saying that the allegations were only partially true and lamented that he did not have the money to defend himself.
While I appreciated the complexity of individual cases, I believed that those misconduct complaints might contain important truths. Undeterred by school districts’ recalcitrance, I followed the public record-seekers’ mantra: If you can’t get records from one agency, the answers you’re looking for may exist somewhere else.
Records of state disciplinary hearings are presumed public when teachers object to their dismissals by school districts or appeal the suspension or revocation of their licenses. And those records reside in the Department of General Services, a state agency that houses another agency responsible for convening administrative hearings of public employees.
This agency proved helpful with the case of Jason Agan, a San Francisco Bay Area math teacher who KQED and ProPublica reported on last month. Agan had been fired for sexually harassing high school students but went on to teach at two more schools, even after an independent panel convened by the Office of Administrative Hearings deemed him “unfit to teach.” Because he had asked for an outside hearing after the district moved to fire him, I requested those records.
I got them the next day. The documents contained summaries of testimony from students, administrators and Agan himself at his dismissal hearing. Agan, who has not been accused of a crime, admitted to touching students’ shoulders but denied any sexual motivation, stating during his dismissal hearing that he did so to offer them support and encouragement. He maintained his teaching license.
Getting a response from the Department of General Services was like discovering a secret portal to obtaining records quickly and easily.
So I requested five years’ worth of decisions about other teachers by independent panels from this agency, in search of further insights into how the state’s teacher disciplinary system works and where it falls short. I obtained a gold mine of documents in less than a week.
I had learned some important lessons: What seems to be secret isn’t always so. Sometimes you just need to know who to ask, and for what.
L'allarme sul rischio phishing legato a Burger King sta mettendo in guardia migliaia di clienti in Italia. La causa è una notizia su una potenziale e massiccia fuga di dati.
Si tratterebbe di circa 5 milioni di record del programma fedeltà, un tesoro di informazioni che potrebbe finire nelle mani sbagliate. Anche se al momento mancano conferme ufficiali da parte dell'azienda, la prudenza è fondamentale. Ma cosa sta succedendo esattamente? E, soprattutto, come puoi proteggere i tuoi dati personali da possibili truffe? Vediamolo nel dettaglio.
Cosa sappiamo sulla presunta fuga di dati?
La notizia che sta circolando è chiara: un furto di dati avrebbe colpito il database del programma fedeltà di Burger King Italia. Parliamo di un numero impressionante di record, circa 5 milioni. Se confermata, questa violazione esporrebbe un'enorme quantità di informazioni sensibili. Pensa ai dati che fornisci per una carta fedeltà: nome, cognome, indirizzo email e numero di telefono. A volte, persino le tue abitudini di acquisto sono registrate.
Questo è un pacchetto di informazioni estremamente prezioso per i cybercriminali, che possono usarlo per orchestrare truffe mirate e molto credibili. È fondamentale sottolineare, però, che per ora si tratta di una segnalazione. Non c'è stata nessuna conferma ufficiale da parte della catena di fast food. Questo non significa abbassare la guardia, anzi: è il momento giusto per agire con prevenzione.
Il vero pericolo: il rischio phishing spiegato in modo semplice
Quando senti parlare di furto di dati, il pericolo più concreto per te ha un nome preciso: phishing. Di cosa si tratta? Immagina di ricevere un'email o un SMS che sembra provenire da Burger King. Il messaggio è allettante: ti promette punti extra, un panino gratis o uno sconto esclusivo. L'obiettivo di questi messaggi è uno solo: convincerti a cliccare su un link. Quel collegamento, però, non ti porterà al sito ufficiale, ma a una pagina web fasulla, creata per assomigliare a quella vera.
Lì, ti verrà chiesto di inserire le tue credenziali, come la password del tuo account. Una volta fornite, i truffatori le avranno in pugno. Ecco perché la presunta fuga di dati è un campanello d'allarme. Con le tue informazioni, i criminali possono creare comunicazioni personalizzate e molto più difficili da riconoscere come false.
Come riconoscere e sventare le truffe
La buona notizia è che difendersi è possibile. Basta seguire alcune semplici ma efficaci regole. Non serve essere esperti di informatica, solo un po' più attenti e consapevoli.
Non cliccare: la regola numero uno
Se ricevi un messaggio sospetto che promette vantaggi incredibili, la prima cosa da fare è non fare nulla. Non cliccare su alcun link e non scaricare allegati. Le aziende serie non chiedono mai dati personali o password tramite email o SMS. Controlla sempre l'indirizzo del mittente: spesso contiene errori di battitura o nomi strani.
Verifica sempre sui canali ufficiali
Hai un dubbio su una promozione? La soluzione migliore è verificare direttamente. Apri l'app ufficiale di Burger King, visita il loro sito web o controlla le pagine social verificate. Se l'offerta è reale, la troverai sicuramente lì. Non fidarti mai di una comunicazione arrivata all'improvviso.
La tua password è la tua fortezza
Un'altra mossa intelligente è proteggere i tuoi account. Se usi la stessa password dell'app di Burger King anche per altri servizi, una pratica altamente sconsigliata, cambiala subito. In questo modo, anche se i tuoi dati fossero stati rubati, i criminali non potrebbero accedere ad altri profili. Valuta anche di attivare, dove possibile, l'autenticazione a due fattori (2FA). Si tratta di un ulteriore livello di sicurezza che richiede un codice temporaneo, di solito inviato sul tuo telefono, per completare l'accesso. Questo rende la vita dei truffatori molto più difficile.
In attesa di conferme: cosa fare ora?
In conclusione, mentre attendiamo comunicazioni ufficiali da Burger King, la parola d'ordine è cautela. Diffida di ogni messaggio che ti chiede di agire con urgenza o che ti offre regali troppo belli per essere veri. La tua sicurezza digitale dipende prima di tutto dalle tue abitudini. Pochi secondi di attenzione in più possono fare tutta la differenza e tenerti al riparo da spiacevoli sorprese.
J’ai rencontré des personnes de framasoft à ow2con hier et on a essayé de trouver des opportunités de collaboration.
Je suis mainteneur d’un viewer 3d universelle (F3D) et on s’est demandé de la pertinence d’un héberger une version sur Framalab.
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