Dynamic ocular thermography

The ability to measure ocular surface temperature (OST) with thermal imaging offers potential insight into ocular physiology that has been acknowledged in the literature. The TH7102MX thermo-camera (NEC San-ei, Japan) continuously records dynamic information about OST without sacrificing spatial resolution. Using purpose-designed image analysis software, it was possible to select and quantify the principal components of absolute temperature values and the magnitude plus rate of temperature change that followed blinking. The techniques was examined for repeatability, reproducibility and the effects of extrinsic factors: a suitable experimental protocol was thus developed. The precise source of the measured thermal radiation has previously been subject toe dispute: in this thesis, the results of a study examining the relationships between physical parameters of the anterior eye and OST, confirmed a principal role for the tear film in OST. The dynamic changes in OST were studied in a large group of young subjects: quantifying the post-blink changes in temperature with time also established a role for tear flow dynamics in OST. Using dynamic thermography, the effects of hydrogel contact lens wear on OST were investigated: a model eye for in vivo work, and both neophyte and adapted contact lens wearers for in vivo studies. Significantly greater OST was observed in contact lens wearers, particularly with silicone hydrogel lenses compared to etafilcon A, and tended to be greatest when lenses had been worn continuously. This finding is important to understanding the ocular response to contact lens wear. In a group of normal subjects, dynamic thermography appeared to measure the ocular response to the application of artificial tear drops: this may prove to be a significant research and clinical tool.

The effect of contact lens wear on dynamic ocular surface temperature

Aim: To determine the dynamic emitted temperature changes of the anterior eye during and immediately after wearing different materials and modalities of soft contact lenses. Method: A dynamic, non-contact infrared camera (Thermo-Tracer TH7102MX, NEC San-ei) was used to record the ocular surface temperature (OST) in 48 subjects (mean age 21.7 ± 1.9 years) wearing: lotrafilcon-A contact lenses on a daily wear (LDW; n = 8) or continuous wear (LCW; n = 8) basis; balafilcon-A contact lenses on a daily wear (BDW; n = 8) or continuous wear (BCW; n = 8) basis; etafilcon-A contact lenses on a daily disposable regimen (EDW; n = 8); and no lenses (controls; n = 8). OST was measured continuously five times, for 8 s after a blink, following a minimum of 2 h wear and immediately following lens removal. Absolute temperature, changes in temperature post-blink and the dynamics of temperature changes were calculated. Results: OST immediately following contact lens wear was significantly greater compared to non-lens wearers (37.1 ± 1.7 °C versus 35.0 ± 1.1 °C; p < 0.005), predominantly in the LCW group (38.6 ± 1.0 °C; p < 0.0001). Lens surface temperature was highly correlated (r = 0.97) to, but lower than OST (by -0.62 ± 0.3 °C). There was no difference with modality of wear (DW 37.5 ± 1.6 °C versus CW 37.8 ± 1.9 °C; p = 0.63), but significant differences were found between etafilcon A and silicone hydrogel lens materials (35.3 ± 1.1 °C versus 37.5 ± 1.5 °C; p < 0.0005). Ocular surface cooling following a blink was not significantly affected by contact lens wear with (p = 0.07) or without (p = 0.47) lenses in situ. Conclusions: Ocular surface temperature is greater with hydrogel and greater still with silicone hydrogel contact lenses in situ, regardless of modality of wear. The effect is likely to be due to the thermal transmission properties of a contact lens. © 2004 British Contact Lens Association. Published by Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved.

[Review of] Ivo Mijnssen, The Quest for an Ideal Youth in Putin’s Russia I. Back to Our Future! History, Modernity and Patriotism According to Nashi, 2005–2012. Soviet and Post-Soviet Politics and Society, Stuttgart: Ibidem Verlag, 2012, 202pp., e 34.90 p/b

THE YOUTH MOVEMENT NASHI (OURS) WAS FOUNDED IN THE SPRING of 2005 against the backdrop of Ukraine’s ‘Orange Revolution’. Its aim was to stabilise Russia’s political system and take back the streets from opposition demonstrators. Personally loyal to Putin and taking its ideological orientation from Surkov’s concept of ‘sovereign democracy’, Nashi has sought to turn the tide on ‘defeatism’ and develop Russian youth into a patriotic new elite that ‘believes in the future of Russia’ (p. 15). Combining a wealth of empirical detail and the application of insights from discourse theory, Ivo Mijnssen analyses the organisation’s development between 2005 and 2012. His analysis focuses on three key moments—the organisation’s foundation, the apogee of its mobilisation around the Bronze Soldier dispute with Estonia, and the 2010 Seliger youth camp—to help understand Nashi’s organisation, purpose and ideational outlook as well as the limitations and challenges it faces. As such,the book is insightful both for those with an interest in post-Soviet Russian youth culture, and for scholars seeking a rounded understanding of the Kremlin’s initiatives to return a sense of identity and purpose to Russian national life.The first chapter, ‘Background and Context’, outlines the conceptual toolkit provided by Ernesto Laclau and Chantal Mouffe to help make sense of developments on the terrain of identity politics. In their terms, since the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russia has experienced acute dislocation of its identity. With the tangible loss of great power status, Russian realities have become unfixed from a discourse enabling national life to be constructed, albeit inherently contingently, as meaningful. The lack of a Gramscian hegemonic discourse to provide a unifying national idea was securitised as an existential threat demanding special measures. Accordingly, the identification of those who are ‘notUs’ has been a recurrent theme of Nashi’s discourse and activity. With the victory in World War II held up as a foundational moment, a constitutive other is found in the notion of ‘unusual fascists’. This notion includes not just neo-Nazis, but reflects a chain of equivalence that expands to include a range of perceived enemies of Putin’s consolidation project such as oligarchs and pro-Western liberals.The empirical background is provided by the second chapter, ‘Russia’s Youth, the Orange Revolution, and Nashi’, which traces the emergence of Nashi amid the climate of political instability of 2004 and 2005. A particularly note-worthy aspect of Mijnssen’s work is the inclusion of citations from his interviews with Nashicommissars; the youth movement’s cadres. Although relatively few in number, such insider conversations provide insight into the ethos of Nashi’s organisation and the outlook of those who have pledged their involvement. Besides the discussion of Nashi’s manifesto, the reader thus gains insight into the motivations of some participants and behind-the-scenes details of Nashi’s activities in response to the perceived threat of anti-government protests. The third chapter, ‘Nashi’s Bronze Soldier’, charts Nashi’s role in elevating the removal of a World War II monument from downtown Tallinn into an international dispute over the interpretation of history. The events subsequent to this securitisation of memory are charted in detail, concluding that Nashi’s activities were ultimately unsuccessful as their demands received little official support.The fourth chapter, ‘Seliger: The Foundry of Modernisation’, presents a distinctive feature of Mijnssen’s study, namely his ethnographic account as a participant observer in the Youth International Forum at Seliger. In the early years of the camp (2005–2007), Russian participants received extensive training, including master classes in ‘methods of forestalling mass unrest’ (p. 131), and the camp served to foster a sense of group identity and purpose among activists. After 2009 the event was no longer officially run as a Nashi camp, and its role became that of a forum for the exchange of ideas about innovation, although camp spirit remained a central feature. In 2010 the camp welcomed international attendees for the first time. As one of about 700 international participants in that year the author provides a fascinating account based on fieldwork diaries.Despite the polemical nature of the topic, Mijnssen’s analysis remains even-handed, exemplified in his balanced assessment of the Seliger experience. While he details the frustrations and disappointments of the international participants with regard to the unaccustomed strict camp discipline, organisational and communication failures, and the controlled format of many discussions,he does not neglect to note the camp’s successes in generating a gratifying collective dynamic between the participants, even among the international attendees who spent only a week there.In addition to the useful bibliography, the book is back-ended by two appendices, which provide the reader with important Russian-language primary source materials. The first is Nashi’s ‘Unusual Fascism’ (Neobyknovennyi fashizm) brochure, and the second is the booklet entitled ‘Some Uncomfortable Questions to the Russian Authorities’ (Neskol’ko neudobnykh voprosov rossiiskoivlasti) which was provided to the Seliger 2010 instructors to guide them in responding to probing questions from foreign participants. Given that these are not readily publicly available even now, they constitute a useful resource from the historical perspective.