The UK's safeguarding minister has called for an overhaul of the main tool used to decide if a domestic abuse victim needs urgent support.

Jess Phillips (pictured above, top right) told the BBC's File on 4 that the current Dash assessment "doesn't work", amid mounting evidence that it fails to correctly identify those at the highest risk of further harm.

How does Dash work?
The Dash (Domestic, Abuse, Stalking, Harassment and Honour-Based Violence) assessment is a checklist of 27 mainly yes or no questions to be put to victims – including "Is the abuse getting worse?" and "Has the current incident resulted in injury?"

The victim's answers produce a score that's meant to determine their risk of imminent harm or death. Since 2009, the Dash risk scores have been relied on by many police forces, social services and healthcare workers to determine what action is taken after a reported incident, although practitioners are encouraged to use their "professional judgement" to override low scores.

What's wrong with it?
Academics, domestic abuse charities and bereaved families have long raised doubts over the accuracy of the Dash assessment.

In 2020, a London School of Economics study of Greater Manchester Police data found that, in nearly nine out of ten repeat cases of violence, the victim had been classed as standard or medium risk by Dash. Earlier this month, an investigation by The Telegraph identified at least 55 women who had been killed by their partner after being graded only standard or medium risk.

Pauline Jones, the mother of Bethany Fields, who was killed by her partner in 2019, a month after being graded a medium risk by Dash, put it more directly: "When you hear about the Dash, and you know your daughter's death was so easily preventable, it destroys not just your heart but your very soul."

Is there a better option?
Some police forces have adopted Dara, a newer tool developed by the College of Policing, instead of Dash. Other forces and organisations, in the UK and abroad, are calling for a more radical overhaul, using new technology to assess future risk. "In certain contexts," said Forbes, "AI-enabled tools are making it easier to discreetly gather evidence, assess personal risk and document abuse – actions that were previously unsafe or more difficult to carry out."

Lost luggage is every traveller's nightmare but what begins as misfortune for some can end up as a jackpot for an increasing number of suitcase "gamblers" who are bidding on the lost property at auction houses, and finding everything from designer clothes to ancient artefacts.

This once-niche pastime has now found a huge online audience. Lost luggage hauls can "attract millions of views on social media from people keen to get a glimpse inside a stranger's life", said The Guardian.

Emeralds, scarabs, and a mummified falcon
"If these bags could talk, what a story they would have to tell," Bryan Owens, the CEO of US firm Unclaimed Baggage, told The Guardian.

Standout finds he recalls include an "old dingy, dirty bag" with a "40-carat solitaire emerald swaddled inside it". One Gucci suitcase yielded Egyptian artefacts dating back to 1500BC, including "scarabs and burial masks" and "a mummified pet falcon".

But the idea of lost luggage auctions has also faced criticism, said the Daily Mail. Becky Chorlton, a TikToker who regularly shares her hauls to millions online, has had viewers expressing their "outrage", with one commenter saying they felt "violated" at the prospect of a stranger being able to purchase their lost items. Another said, "New fear unlocked: watching an influencer gleefully rip apart my lost luggage on TikTok".

Transit risks
Of course, not every lost suitcase ends up under the hammer: almost 92% of lost bags are eventually reunited with their owners. Only if they remain unclaimed for three months are they sold on, said The Guardian. International flights carry the greatest risk, with "46% of losses occurring when a passenger transits through a second airport". 

For those who want to keep their belongings out of the auction room altogether, there are a few preventative measures travellers can take, said the Mail. "Take photos of your items to document their condition before packing them and, where possible, keep receipts to prove their value". Other precautions include making bags stand out with "unique decorations and labels", keeping essentials in carry-on bags, and "investing in a GPS tracker".

A woman rides her bicycle under a fallen tree that's blocking the road after Typhoon Kajiki passed through the Nghe An province of Vietnam. Three people have died and thousands have been ordered to leave their homes, as rescue workers battle downed power lines and rising floodwaters.

Nhac Nguyen / AFP / Getty Images

Who needs to hop on a plane for a picture-perfect beach break? Scotland is home to some beautifully rugged coastal spots, with white sandy shores and clear blue waters that wouldn't look out of place in a brochure for the Caribbean. Here are some of our favourites.

Kearvaig Bay, Sutherland
Getting to this "fabled beach at the end of the world" is no easy task, said The Times. But the "reward" is well worth it: expect powdery white shores, "cupped within the highest cliffs" in the country, and plenty of seabirds from puffins to oystercatchers. 

Luskentyre, Outer Hebrides
"Ask a Scotsman if this beach is one of the country's best, and they'll tell you it's one of the world's best," said Condé Nast Traveller. Situated on the west coast of South Harris in the Outer Hebrides, Luskentyre (pictured above) is "renowned for its pristine white sands and unbelievably clear waters".

Sanna, Ardnamurchan
It's a "long drive on single-track roads" to reach this remote stretch of coast on the Ardnamurchan peninsula, said The Times. Located at the most westerly point on mainland Britain, "geologists love Sanna because you walk in over the crater of an ancient volcano".

Loch Morlich, Cairngorms
Scotland's "rugged hinterlands" are dotted with lochs but this one is a "particularly special spot", said Condé Nast Traveller. Nestled in the heart of the Cairngorms National Park, "it's about as picture-perfect as you're going to get", with a "glass-like" freshwater loch fringed by "sprawling white sands" and "snow-capped" mountains.

Should you say 'thank you' to ChatGPT?
Stephen Bush in the Financial Times
I try to be polite to machines, writes Stephen Bush, because if we get used to "barking demands at computers", we will "start doing it to human beings, too". And yet, there are people "doing actual harm to themselves" because they think "the chatbot they are talking to is real". We should programme chatbots "to tell users to leave them alone" when asked "a question that no machine should ever have to answer".

Tragic millennials with disposable incomes just want to relive their childhood
Emily Watkins in The i Paper
In "the sudden rush" of 90s food nostalgia, writes Emily Watkins, brands "from Nik Naks to Walkers" are "tapping into" my fellow millennials' "yearning to return" to our childhood. "Every generation loves to romanticise the good old days", whether or not they were actually better". The thing is, "for my generation, they were" because "the internet hadn't yet melted our brains" and "Cool Britannia meant the UK was a trendy place to live".

Is there nowhere to hide from politics now?
James Marriott in The Times
"In a civil war-racked Britain of the near future", writes James Marriott, we'll be able to "trace the divided country's allegiances" by "the colour of local zebra crossings". Camden had road crossings "repainted in the pink and blue livery of the trans rights movement"; in Birmingham, activists have "added red crosses to the white zebra stripes". A "formerly neutral bit of public space" has turned "into a tribal battleground". Politics now "intrudes everywhere".