Have you ever wondered how long Britain’s coastline is?

Off the top of your head, it’s surely something you can look up in any encyclopaedia, just as you might find the country’s area, the highest point or capital. If you look in The World Factbook1, you’ll find that the total length of the United Kingdom’s coastline is 12,429 kilometres. Perfect, we have a figure.

Except it’s not really that simple, it’s all much more complicated than it seems.

Lewis Fry Richardson’s discovery

Lewis Fry Richardson was a highly versatile academic. He conducted research in fields as diverse as mathematics, physics and psychology, and was also a committed pacifist. Richardson believed that through applied mathematics and physics, patterns could be found in the workings of the world, enabling us to understand all kinds of disasters and, in that way, find ways to prevent them. Somehow, this way of thinking explains the motivation that led him to study meteorology and eventually create one of the first models for forecasting the weather.

These concerns led him to attempt to understand whether there was any relationship between the probability of two countries going to war and the length of their shared border. Whilst compiling data, he found that different sources provided conflicting figures. For example, Spain estimated that its border with Portugal was 1,214 kilometres long, while Portugal, for its part, claimed it was only 987 kilometres. It might have been nothing more than a curiosity, but when he looked up the length of the border between the Netherlands and Belgium, he also found two different figures: 380 and 449 kilometres.

These discrepancies came as a surprise to Richardson, but he soon stumbled upon an explanation: it all depended on how the border was measured. If a large ruler were used, many details would inevitably be missed and the total distance would be shorter. Conversely, with a smaller ruler, it was possible to cover more nooks and crannies and thus arrive at a greater total distance.

To illustrate this, I have measured the length of the border between Belgium and the Netherlands on Google Maps using segments of different sizes. Using only 20-kilometre segments, the approximate distance is 259 kilometres. If, instead, we use 10-kilometre segments, the final distance is 315 kilometres. A greater distance in the second case, but in both instances much shorter than the official distances Richardson encountered. Undoubtedly, this is because the measurements used a ruler much smaller than 10 kilometres.

His findings were published posthumously in 1961 in The problem of contiguity: An appendix to Statistics of Deadly Quarrels2, and extrapolated the problem to the coastlines that define a country. In his study, he demonstrated something that, at first glance, may seem counterintuitive: as the size of the ruler used for measurement decreases, the length of the coastline increases without limit. This is known as the Richardson effect3.

Mandelbrot and the coastline of Great Britain

Borders between two countries are, ultimately, lines agreed upon by the two countries forming that border. This means that the intricacies are limited and, ultimately, a consensus can be reached. Coastlines, on the other hand, are the result of millions of years of tectonic plate movements and the action of the elements; the inlets and outcrops are complex and of sizes that can be several orders of magnitude smaller than the total length of the coastline.

Benoît Mandelbrot came across Richardson’s article and decided to investigate the mathematical problem of coastlines, publishing his findings in his 1967 paper entitled How Long Is the Coast of Britain? Statistical Self-Similarity and Fractional Dimension4. At the conference where it was presented, Mandelbrot asked his colleagues about the length of the coastline of Great Britain. Some gave a rough estimate, others referred to encyclopaedic data, but none came up with the answer Mandelbrot expected: infinite.

When surveyors set out to measure the length of a coastline, they use a tape measure or a ruler of defined length. Let us say they use straight sections of 200 kilometres to measure the coastline of the British Isles. The result they obtain will be approximately 2,400 kilometres, as shown in the image above. Anyone can see that this approximation is crude and far too imprecise. So it would be better to take a shorter straight measurement segment, 50 kilometres, for example. In this case, the result of measuring the coastline’s length will be greater than in the previous case: 3,400 kilometres. The explanation is simple, as we have now had the opportunity to measure bends that had previously been completely overlooked.

But is this approximation sufficient? As the following animation shows, clearly not.

When the measurement segment is reduced to 100 metres, the total length we find is 17,820 kilometres, almost five times greater than when the reference measurement is 50 kilometres.

Returning to the two encyclopaedic figures we cited as references at the start, we find that The World Factbook gives the total for the United Kingdom, including Great Britain, Northern Ireland and all the smaller islands, a coastline of 12,429 kilometres, whilst the World Resources Institute puts it at 19,717 kilometres. With these figures in hand, we can infer that the resolution of at least one measurement is, with almost complete certainty, better than 100 metres.

Next time someone tells you how long a country's coastline is, ask them how long their ruler was. Chances are they won't know. And if they did know, you can always challenge that it was not small enough to be accurate.

After all, the only perfectly accurate answer is infinite.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like doing any of them. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,200 in the catalogue.

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May has arrived in Spain with a vengeance. As well as the usual pollen, to which I’m very allergic, the high temperatures have also come. And of course, this is a problem for me: if I go outside, the pollen makes my life a living hell, and if I stay indoors with the windows shut, the heat makes my life a living hell. Perhaps the strangest thing is that, despite this dichotomy, I still love this time of year. That said, I’ll enjoy the weather even more once the pollen peaks are over.

While I wait, here’s the latest instalment of the maps of the month. Here’s what you’ll find in this edition:

• Hantavirus aboard the MV Hondius

• Global dependence on tourism

• Heat map of Spain

• At what temperature does it start to get hot?

• Cities on the same parallel

• The Chernobyl Atlas (1996)

• Another way of looking at Australia’s population

• The map that solved the mystery of Villa Farnesina

• The Tuareg and the offensive in Mali

• The ravages of palm oil in Indonesia and Malaysia

Hantavirus on board the MV Hondius

On 1 April, the MV Hondius set sail from Ushuaia, in Argentina, to visit Antarctica and several islands in the South Atlantic. Just ten days later, the voyage took a turn for the worse when one of the passengers died. On 22 April, 28 passengers disembarked at Saint Helena, intending to end their journey, whilst the rest continued on to Cape Verde. On 2 May, the World Health Organisation received a report: there was an outbreak of hantavirus on the MV Hondius, and three people had already died. Two had died on board and the third in Johannesburg, one of those who had disembarked at Saint Helena.

The expedition ship docked in Praia, the capital of Cape Verde, a day later, but no passengers were allowed to disembark due to the lack of guarantees that the disease could be contained. And then the international media picked up the story. As shown by the Forbes map above, the MV Hondius continued on to the Canary Islands, Spain, where an operation was mounted to disembark and evacuate all passengers to their respective countries.

Despite the media coverage, misinformation and understandable initial fear, it can be said that the containment of the outbreak has been a success. The hantavirus is not new; it is a known virus, although there have been few documented cases of human-to-human transmission. What has been documented to an extent rarely seen before is every single case in great detail, which has enabled the creation of interactive maps such as this one.

The world’s dependence on tourism

The MV Hondius, as well as being the vessel linked to one of the WHO’s most recent outbreaks, is also an example of the global reach of tourism. Over the last 25 years, international tourism has more than doubled, rising from around 700 million international travellers to 1.5 billion. As we all know, this tourism is not distributed equally across every corner of the globe, with some countries bearing a heavy burden as a result.

A heavy burden, but also a heavy reliance. The map above shows each country’s dependence on international tourism as a percentage of GDP. Destinations with over 50% include small and rather exclusive places such as Andorra, Aruba, the Maldives, and the Seychelles.

The map only reflects international tourism receipts, which explains why the United States sits at just 0.7% of GDP; even so, when domestic tourism is included, this figure rises to 8.6%. Something similar happens in China, where international tourism accounts for only 0.3%, but with domestic tourism included, the figure rises to almost 10%1.

Heat map of Spain

The fact that Spain is a major tourist destination has always been seen by Spaniards, myself included, as both an honour and something of a double-edged sword. It’s fine that people appreciate everything Spain has to offer, but at the same time, people wish it didn’t have such an impact. That said, the good weather and the beaches ensure that tourism skyrockets every time the good weather arrives. Mind you, this year we’ve had more than our fair share of heat. Much more than usual.

The map you can see above is taken from an interesting article in the Spanish newspaper El Diario, which explores just how hot it is in 2026 compared to other years. And the data is overwhelming. Average maximum temperatures this year are exceeding two, and in some cases even three, degrees at many of the country’s weather stations. And it’s not simply a warmer year; it’s a trend that seems unstoppable.

Along the same lines, I saw a brilliant chart by Dominic Royé on LinkedIn showing the temperature records that have been broken in Spain since 1950. Decades ago, both cold and heat records were being broken, but over the last forty years it seems that only heat records are being broken.

The reason is clear: it is getting hotter and less cold; the measurements don’t lie.

At what temperature does it start to feel hot?

Another interesting topic we could discuss, along the same lines, is what we consider to be hot in different parts of Europe. Anyone from Southern Europe, such as Andalusia (Spain), Sicily (Italy) or Crete (Greece), doesn’t consider it hot until temperatures exceed 25 degrees Celsius2, whilst in countries like Finland or Iceland, even 10 degrees can be considered warm.

I’ve tried to find a reference for the data used by The World In Maps for the map I’ve included above, but I haven’t found anything. That said, I do think it highlights perfectly something we often overlook: human beings get used to temperatures and find it difficult to cope when they fall outside the ranges we’re familiar with. Much like what happens when heat or cold arrives out of nowhere: we simply don't like it.

Cities on the same parallel

And following on from the previous map, I also thought it would be worth sharing this gem published by Convergence Boy earlier this month. It is an interactive map where you can see which cities are on the same latitude. There we can see that cities such as Istanbul, Beijing, New York and Madrid share the same latitude, just as Los Angeles and Tokyo do.

Because of global temperature patterns, we tend to assume that cities at similar latitudes share similar temperatures, but this is far from reality: due to altitude, ocean currents, proximity to the sea and the position of mountains, New York experiences heavy snowfall every year, whilst in Madrid, every snowfall is an extraordinary event3.

The Chernobyl Atlas (1996)

April marked the 40th anniversary of the Chernobyl accident, a catastrophe that redefined how the world viewed nuclear energy. A few weeks ago, featured in his newsletter a magnificent atlas published ten years later, in the newly independent Ukraine, by Vyacheslav M. Shestopalov.

It is the Atlas of the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, which was established as the first systematic attempt to map the radioactive impact of the explosion on the territory, wildlife, soil, and air. The map you see above, for example, shows the estimated soil contamination by caesium-137 following the accident.

Another way of looking at Australia’s population

Those of you who have been following this newsletter for a while will know: I like the many ways there are to represent population on a map4. Grid cartograms, such as this example of Australia, distort the geometry of the territory so that the area represented corresponds to a constant number of inhabitants5, 0.1% of the country’s population in this case.

Inevitably, this map of Australia is completely distorted, but it clearly shows the significant influence of the country’s major cities: Sydney, Melbourne and, to a lesser extent, Adelaide, Perth and Brisbane. And Canberra, the capital? There it is, right in the middle, and you can quickly see that it is a political centre, but not a city of great significance.

The map that solved the mystery of the Villa Farnesina

Howard Burton, the man behind , published this excellent article a few weeks ago on Raphael’s fresco The Triumph of Galatea, which, unexpectedly, involves a good handful of ancient maps of Rome.

This fresco, located in Villa Farnesina in Rome, contained an inconsistency that art historians could not agree on. It features many aquatic motifs, and the Tiber was supposed to reinforce all these aquatic motifs, but from the Galatea room, where the fresco is located, the River Tiber cannot be seen.

Burton researched numerous maps of Rome until he came across the map you can see above, Étienne Dupérac’s 1577 map. It indicates that the room was originally an open loggia, which meant that from the Galatea Room one could see the River Tiber alongside the fabulous Triumph of Galatea.

The Tuareg and the offensive in Mali

The Tuareg are one of the world’s great peoples whose territory is divided among several countries. This map from the Spanish geopolitics outlet El Orden Mundial shows how they are spread across much of Niger, north-eastern Mali, south-eastern Algeria and western Libya.

Azawad, located in Mali, is a territory that declared its independence in 2012 following a Tuareg uprising. That uprising was opposed by the Malian government, which in turn had the support of French troops. Azawad did not succeed in gaining independence, but the Tuareg continue to actively fight for their territory and their rights. Since 2020, both the Nigerien and Malian governments have had the support of Russia, through the Wagner Group, in their struggle, but with ever-diminishing success.

The ravages of palm oil in Indonesia and Malaysia

To conclude, I bring you this watercolour map by Justine Vignat on the impact of palm oil cultivation in Indonesia and Malaysia. The extent of deforestation carried out to establish plantations is shown in red, whilst the small area of tropical forest that remains is marked in green.

Malaysia and Indonesia together produce 85% of the world’s palm oil, and it is precisely in these countries where the impact of these plantations has been most evident. And yes, this affects orangutans, among other animals.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you're looking for a distraction. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,200 in the catalogue.

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Following the release of Ridley Scott’s much-criticised film about Napoleon, I took another deep dive into Charles Joseph Minard’s most famous map.

Don’t know which map I’m referring to? Well, it is this absolute marvel.

I’ll tell you a bit more about the map later on. But yes, it is a masterpiece for many reasons. The great irony is that Minard’s reputation is often unfairly overshadowed by this map, yet his work was far more significant. That’s the reason I have decided not to focus only on this map, but on his wider work.

The early years of Charles Joseph Minard

Minard was born in Dijon, France, in 1781. It would most likely have been the case that he devoted his life to growing mustard, as was already common in the city1, but he was fortunate to have parents who encouraged him to study. By the age of four, he could already read and write, and at just fifteen he enrolled in the newly opened École Polytechnique in Paris2. From there he moved on to the École nationale des ponts et chaussées, where he graduated as a civil engineer.

This background, which may seem like just another biographical detail, is important for understanding the figure of Minard. His higher education was devoted to the branch of engineering responsible for building roads, canals, and railways. Moreover, he worked in this field for many years, which helped him to understand the movement of commercial goods and people.

As part of his work, he began to create occasional graphs to better visualise the information. The first known example is the one you can see above: a chronological table he used to represent the arrival in Paris of materials for paving the city over the previous two centuries. Given that the map covers the years 1620 to 1820, and with no further details, can you identify when the French Revolution took place?

That’s right, a simple yet effective representation of data not only allows information to be displayed, but also makes it much easier to convey far more sophisticated information, or even to visualise patterns more clearly. Minard understood the usefulness of this method for representing information, but it was not until his retirement, forced at the age of 70, that he devoted his life fully to it.

Minard’s other maps

Since Arthur H. Robinson3 published an article on Minard in 1967, it has been accepted that Minard produced a total of 58 maps throughout his life4. Of all of them, only one has entered popular culture, but his work marked a turning point in cartography, understood as the science of representing information in a geographical context. Until the mid-19th century, many cartographers had worked to represent the earth faithfully on a map, but Minard went a step further.

His greatest innovation, undoubtedly, was flow maps. This type of representation shows the movement of information or objects between different points within a region. The colours and sizes of the lines help to symbolise what and how much is moving from one point to another. Where relevant, turning the lines into arrows also helps to provide information on the direction of that movement. It cannot be said that he was the pioneer, as that honour is usually assigned to Henry Drury Harness5 in 1837, but he did popularise their use and demonstrate their potential.

This is Minard’s first flow map, published in 1845. It shows the movement of public carriages along the roads between the areas around Dijon and Mulhouse. All this information, purely descriptive, was important for establishing the route and stops of the new railway line that would link Dijon and Mulhouse. Two hundred copies of this map were produced and distributed among the stakeholders in this project so that their decisions could be as informed as possible.

The context of the era is fundamental. In the mid-19th century, the railway and the telegraph were expanding rapidly across continental Europe, and this was attracting significant investment from modern states. Minard understood that it was critical to provide substantial information to those responsible for planning new works and innovations. His entire body of work could have been ignored by the authorities, but history shows us that nothing could be further from the truth. Every French Minister of Public Works who held office between 1850 and 1860 had their portrait painted with Minard’s work behind them. This was no minor gesture: at a time when the railway was a symbol of modernity and power, being visually associated with the maps that planned it was also a political statement. Perhaps the most iconic of all these portraits is that of Eugène Rouher, appointed minister in 1855, painted by Alexandre Cabanel.

Even if he only managed to publish 58 maps, all of them are somehow fascinating. I will present here the three I find most interesting, whether for the elegance of the representation or for the obvious utility they had at the time.

On this map, Minard divided each of the districts of Paris (in different colours) into four neighbourhoods. He marked a sample of post boxes with black dots and existing post offices with black dots circled. Furthermore, he included a square in each neighbourhood showing the neighbourhood’s population size and positioned it at the centre of gravity based on the population distribution within the neighbourhood. With all this information, he sought to make it clear which areas would benefit most from the installation of a new post office.

In this other map, Minard aimed to show the main population flows in the world. Although access to reliable data was limited in the 19th century, the author sought a representation centred on the available data. To achieve this, he established that each millimetre of thickness corresponds to 1,500 migrants, and the colours represent the origin of those emigrants. A curious aspect of this map is that, despite covering migration across all the continents of the world, Minard attaches a certain importance to French possessions, such as the islands of Réunion and Mauritius in the Indian Ocean. In a way, this map also seeks to highlight these islands as important commercial and economic hubs.

For the last map, I have gone for this particular piece for being one of the earliest uses of pie charts in cartography. On this occasion, Minard uses them to show the French departments that produced the meat consumed in Paris. All the departments that send goods to the capital are shown in yellow, and the pie chart for each department shows the total volume, indicated by the size of the circle, and the type of meat, indicated by different colours (beef, pork, and mutton).

This type of map became of great importance in geography for understanding the production and consumption of goods in detail. In fact, if you pick up any general atlas, in the section covering the economy of regions or countries, you will most likely see this type of representation that Minard first used.

Napoleon’s March on Moscow (1869)

The best graphic ever produced

This is how Edward R. Tufte described Minard’s illustration of Napoleon’s Russian campaign6. Others, such as Étienne-Jules Marey, went further and claimed that this map “defies the historian’s pen with its brutal eloquence”7. The consensus regarding this map is overwhelming. There are many ways to describe it in a few words, but it is undeniably Minard’s best work and one of the most important maps in the history of cartography.

Minard published this map in 1869, at the age of 88. It was one of the last maps he published and, clearly, it showcases everything he had learnt throughout his life. The idea is to summarise in a single illustration Napoleon’s invasion of Russia throughout 1812, which represented one of Napoleon’s greatest military failures and has gone down in history as a testament to how difficult it is to attempt to conquer Russia in the depths of winter8.

The greatness of this map lies in its ability to effectively represent information across multiple dimensions simultaneously, without the result being difficult to interpret. The first and most obvious features are the two lines, which follow Napoleon’s route from Kaunas, in present-day Lithuania, to Moscow. Beige is used for the outward journey, whilst black is used for the return journey.

Both lines vary in thickness as they move across Russian territory. The thickness is used to represent the number of men in Napoleon’s army along the route, a figure which is also repeatedly detailed alongside the line to make it easier to understand which units each thickness represents. Thanks to this, it is clear to see how the French army suffered sustained casualties throughout the entire journey.

To emphasise the reasons why Napoleon’s troops suffered so many casualties, at the bottom Minard also includes a graph showing the winter temperatures they faced on the return journey, matching measurements along the route to their specific geographical location and including the dates alongside the temperature.

Is this map by Minard accurate? No, certainly not. But that is also what demonstrates the genius of the work. Minard chooses which information to represent and which not, so the idea comes across effectively: Napoleon entered Russia with 422,000 men and returned with 10,000. He managed to reach Moscow, but had to return without conquering the city, and the winter caused many casualties. That is all.

This version, created by Martin Grandjean in 2014, adds further complexity to the graphic. It shows that Napoleon’s troops actually followed multiple routes, which split and merged along the way. All this provides additional information, but does not necessarily improve the idea. The additional multiple flows create a great deal of clutter, as do the borders, rivers and numerous cities, to the extent that the map’s main idea becomes diluted.

There is something that the map of Napoleon teaches us beyond military history: that the clarity of an idea does not depend on the amount of information it contains, but on what it chooses to omit. Minard understood this at the age of 88, after a lifetime of representing data. It is, perhaps, the most difficult lesson to apply in any form of communication.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like doing any of them. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,200 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

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Those of us who love cartography and geography have rather unusual tastes. Although maps and globes have been with us for millennia1, the reality is that there aren’t many iconic monuments in which maps or globes are the main feature. When I think about it off the top of my head, only two places spring to mind: the Mapparium and the Unisphere.

Despite having been to New York a couple of times, I haven’t had the chance to visit this marvellous 43-metre-high metal structure located in Flushing Meadows-Corona Park in Queens, New York. Imagine being able to stroll around this globe occasionally, feeling the true immensity of the planet we inhabit.

These kinds of globes, as well as seeking to attract tourism and create iconic landmarks in a city, can also be used as monuments with a more propagandistic purpose. And this is precisely the story I want to tell you today: that of the intriguing Taliban monument in Dahan-e-Bagh Square in Kabul2.

The origins of the Taliban and their rise to power

Afghanistan is one of the many countries that were torn apart by the Cold War. In popular culture, thanks to films and current geopolitics, we tend to recall episodes linked to Korea, Vietnam, or Cuba. But there were many other countries that also suffered the direct consequences of the Cold War and the interests of the Soviet Union and the United States, such as Ethiopia, Chile, Nicaragua, Angola, and Afghanistan, the latter being the case that concerns us today.

With the Islamic Revolution in Iran weakening the influence of the Communist Party, and faced with the possibility of the conflict spreading to Afghanistan, in December 1979 the Soviet Union decided to intervene to keep the Afghan Communist Party in power. The communist government had been in power for barely a year, and it was already facing strong resistance from the country’s religious establishment and rural areas, which perceived the proposed reforms as a threat.

Armed resistance to the new government persisted for over a decade, led by the mujahideen movements. These were Afghan Islamist groups fighting against the Soviet invasion, which received direct support from countries such as the United States, Saudi Arabia and Pakistan. The aid was not solely in the form of weaponry, but also included military training and strategic expertise.

With the onset of the Soviet Union’s disintegration in 1989, support for the Afghan government was withdrawn, plunging the country into total chaos3. The first civil war pitted the communist government against multiple mujahideen groups, which fought without a clear organisation, at least during the early years. The continuing pressure led to the signing of the Peshawar Agreements in 1992, through which a mujahideen coalition seized power. But this did not mark the end of the conflict, as fighting continued in a second civil war. As a result of this second war, the Taliban took control of Kabul and most of the country in 1996.

The Taliban movement had emerged due to the chaos in which the country had been mired for over a decade. It was founded by madrasa students, which is precisely where it takes its name, Taliban. The movement’s main objective was to restore order in Afghanistan and re-establish security through the precepts of Islamic morality. This led them to fight many of the warlords who commanded certain mujahideen movements, although they also gained the support of many fighters who saw a more promising future in the Taliban4.

They managed to hold power in Afghanistan between 1996 and 2001, although they never fully controlled the country, as several insurgent groups remained active in the north-west. That said, their enforcement of sharia, Islamic law, was ruthless. To such an extent that when they carried out the destruction of the Buddhas of Bamiyan5, in 2001, it was all over the news in Western media.

The fall and resurgence of the Taliban

At the turn of the century, despite the attacks on world heritage sites and the iron-fisted control of the Afghan population, the reality was that no one questioned the legitimacy of the Afghan government. The Cold War had ended, Soviet interventionism had vanished, and US interventionism was at a minimum. But then came 11 September 2001 and everything changed.

The attack on the Twin Towers put Islamic terrorism on the map and created a new enemy to defend against. The United States identified Al-Qaeda as responsible and Osama bin Laden as its leader. This organisation was based in Afghanistan, so George W. Bush demanded that the Taliban cooperate with them and hand over bin Laden, a proposal the Taliban rejected unless evidence was provided to prove this was true.

The United States declared war on terrorism6 and invoked, for the first and so far only time, Article 5 of NATO’s collective defence clause. This allowed an international coalition to be formed to invade Afghanistan and fight the Taliban. On 7 October, less than a month after 9/11, the United States bombed Taliban positions in Afghanistan for the first time. Furthermore, with the support of countries such as Pakistan and by collaborating with internal opposition forces that held the government, in just three months they had managed to reduce the Taliban’s control to Kandahar and rural regions in the south of the country.

A new Western-backed government was established, and many believed the Taliban had been defeated, but the reality was very different. From the rural areas where they had retreated, they launched a guerrilla war that would drag on for the next two decades. The US-imposed government suffered from immense institutional weakness and widespread corruption, which only served to generate ongoing discontent among Afghans, gradually strengthening the Taliban resistance.

The war took a heavy toll on all NATO allies who actively participated, resulting in economic and human losses7. This led to a decline in support over the years. The Netherlands withdrew from Afghanistan in 2010 and Canada followed up two years later, despite both having played a significant role in the occupation. Other countries followed their footsteps by reducing their troop numbers, to the point where the situation became unsustainable. In 2020, the United States signed the Doha Agreements with the Taliban, and a year later, in August 2021, the United States was the last country to withdraw from Afghanistan.

Within days, the government that had received US support collapsed, and the Taliban moved in with hardly any resistance. After all, the US had already spent months failing to counter the Taliban advance, and the Taliban already controlled much of the country.

This brought an end to 20 years of international intervention, and the Taliban not only regained control but, for the first time, did so without any significant resistance. This was partly because they had managed to establish themselves as the only viable alternative to a foreign occupation whose interests were far removed from those of ordinary Afghans.

The Taliban’s makeover and a map of their worldview

Like any government seeking to win the people’s approval after years of instability, it is essential to keep up appearances. It should therefore come as no surprise that the Taliban issued multiple statements after returning to power, guaranteeing that this time it would be different. Among other things, they declared that they would establish a general amnesty and guarantee women’s rights within Islamic law. To no one’s surprise, their interpretation of Islamic law stripped women of virtually all their rights in barely a year.

Beyond mere words, this game of appearances also spilled onto the streets, following the well-worn principles of monumental propaganda that we have seen so often throughout history. In 2022, the mayor of Kabul, Mohammad Khaled Sajestani, announced a plan to adorn thirteen roundabouts with decorations that would bring a splash of colour to the city.

The first to be installed arrived in December 2022 at Dahan-e-Bagh Square. And this is the result: a complete fantasy.

It is an 8-metre-high globe, painted in colours to represent the political situation of the world. It must be admitted that this monument to cartography and geography, from the Taliban’s perspective, is not particularly remarkable, were it not for the crude and obvious intention to control the narrative that can be inferred from certain details, such as the representation of Afghanistan.

The country can be identified by the flag of the Islamic State of Afghanistan8, and its area on the map far exceeds the territory actually occupied by Afghanistan. To the east, it encroaches on more than half the territory of neighbouring Iran and, to the west, it extends well beyond the Durand Line and encompasses the entire Pashtun-populated territory of Pakistan. To the north, it also reclaims territory from the former Soviet republics of Central Asia, leaving the five9 confined to the territory occupied by Kazakhstan.

Esmatullah Habibi, the chief engineer behind the globe, stated after its installation that the sole intention was to give the country a certain prominence and to make it easier for citizens to identify Afghanistan and its location on the map. In response to remarks about the size of Afghanistan, the chief engineer and the mayor stated that there was no political agenda, and that any criticism was merely an attempt to undermine the city’s great development.

But perhaps the most curious thing is how this piece caused quite a stir in India, as the border demarcation grants independence to Kashmir, a territory disputed by Pakistan and India since 1947. If you look at the detail above, it corresponds to that green blob between Pakistan and China, where it also says ‘Kashmir’ in Pashto. The reality is that, at present, northern Kashmir is under Pakistani control and the rest is under Indian administration.

Out of curiosity, I’ve been searching but haven’t managed to find the decorations for any of the other 12 monuments that were supposed to have been installed at various roundabouts in Kabul, whether due to a lack of coverage or a lack of action. What I have found, however, is a short video in which you can see the final touches being made to the Dahan-e-Bagh globe before its inauguration.

The idea was for the globe to rotate about 12 times a minute, hence all the mechanism at the top. I haven’t been able to find any footage of the globe rotating10, either.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like doing any of them. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,200 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

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This year is dragging on. The news is more or less the same every month and, in a way, this has a big influence on the maps I’m bringing you in these rounds of the Maps of the Month. As I also like to brighten people’s days, I’m going to leave you with two recommendations before we begin. The first is musical: American Football’s fourth album1, 27 years after their debut, strikes me as a real masterpiece. The second is a series: For All Mankind2; if you haven’t seen it, I envy you because it means you have four-plus seasons of episodes to look forward to.

And now, on to the maps. Here is the list of what you’ll find in this edition:

• The End of Orbán

• Cables Under Fire

• Disputed Borders

• The Seven Seas of Antiquity

• Refugees from the Middle East

• Global CO₂ Emissions

• The Great Paper Divide

• OpenGridWorks: The Global Power Grid

• Map of the Island of Desire (1931)

• Where and when?

The End of Orbán

Viktor Orbán had become one of the European Union’s major political problems. During his 16 years as Hungary’s prime minister, he had ensured that the Russian perspective was brought to the table and that all consensus on the right was thrown overboard.

On 12 April, Hungarians said farewell to Orbán with a clarity that surpassed even the opposition’s most optimistic polls. In the map above, one can see how Tisza, led by Péter Magyar, secured an overwhelming majority against Fidesz, Orbán’s party. This is not a radical shift, as Péter Magyar still operates within a centre-right ideological framework, but he does have a clearly European agenda, which could speed up many processes that have been stalled for years within the European Union.

Cables under fire

Last month we discussed the Strait of Hormuz and how its closure had become one of the most direct impacts on the global economy. We are all aware that the region produces a large proportion of the world’s fuel oils, but we often overlook the fact that at the bottom of the Persian Gulf and the Red Sea lie a significant portion of the communications links connecting Europe, Asia, and East Africa.

The map you see above is the 2026 version of the submarine cable map published annually by TeleGeography3. On their website, you can also consult the interactive map at any time, which keeps the layout of submarine cables worldwide up to date, with details on each of these cables.

Disputed borders

Borders are a fascinating subject4. Among other things, they provide a fairly accurate picture of the political world view, though of course not all of them enjoy the same level of consensus. El Orden Mundial has published a lengthy essay5 reviewing some of the world’s most significant border disputes, accompanied by maps illustrating the nature of these disputes.

Among all the topics, there is this one I’m bringing you from China, where territorial disputes with India, Taiwan and almost all the countries of Southeast Asia arise due to the nine-dash line.

The seven seas of antiquity

In almost all European countries and much of the Western world, the concept of the seven seas exists. It is an expression that has been used throughout the history of the Mediterranean, taking particular hold in Ancient Greece and the Roman Empire6. As was often the case in antiquity, this list was not set in stone, but during the Middle Ages it eventually took the form that has become established in popular culture.

Chronocarta has published this map on which the seven seas can be easily identified: the Black Sea, the Caspian Sea, the Red Sea, the Mediterranean Sea, the Adriatic Sea, the Arabian Sea and the Persian Gulf.

This list was the one popular in Europe, but there were many other lists of seven seas, as each civilisation made sure to include among the seven seas those that were most important to them. As an abstract concept, the seven seas defined the boundaries of the known world.

Refugees from the Middle East

Returning to the Middle East and the war in Iran, it’s time to talk about refugees. For the past few weeks, Iran, and the United States have sat down on several occasions to negotiate an end to the war, although it does not appear that their positions are converging significantly. Meanwhile, tensions remain high, Israel continues to attack Lebanon, and millions of people have still not been able to return to their homes.

Lately, when we spoke of displaced people in the region, they tended to be concentrated in the countries neighbouring Syria and Afghanistan, where the fiercest conflicts have taken place in the past decades, but the war initiated by Trump and Netanyahu is changing the dynamics.

This map published by UNHCR already puts the number of displaced people in Lebanon at over one million and in Iran at over three million. What is most striking is how Syria and Afghanistan have received many of the refugees who fled years ago, accompanied by new displaced people, now travelling in the opposite direction: from Lebanon to Syria, and from Iran to Afghanistan.

Global CO₂ emissions

On 22 April, as every year, Earth Day was celebrated once again. The news is so dominated by the war in Iran, AI and the various political scandals in every country that there was barely any room for the usual reminders about the state of the climate. That is why I wanted to take this opportunity in this month’s edition of the maps.

This map from Our World in Data7 provides a clear visualisation of per person CO₂ emissions for every country in the world. The Gulf states continue to pollute without much restraint, as do countries such as the United States, Australia, Russia, and Canada. The figures for European, Latin American and Asian countries, whilst better, are still far from ideal.

In the same vein, I think it’s also worth including another map here showing total emissions across the globe. Naturally, the most populous regions lead the way, but note the emissions that don’t belong directly to any country, but rather to maritime transport.

The great divide in paper standard

It is well known that the United States is one of the few countries in the world that still uses the imperial system of measurement. But what is rarely mentioned (and which some of us have experienced first-hand) is that the United States and a handful of other American countries have not adopted the A4 paper size; these are all the countries shown in dark blue on the map. There, they still use the US Letter size, which is slightly wider and shorter than A4.

The difference is minimal, just 6 millimetres in width and 17 millimetres in height, but the consequences can be significant. Just try printing a document in Europe when the printer is set up for the US market: a disaster. We print less and less these days, so it’s less likely to happen, but the possibility remains.

OpenGridWorks: the global electricity grid

shared this wonderful map a few days ago, and I had to make sure you all saw it too.

OpenGridWorks is an interactive web showing the 120,000 power stations, 2.7 million transmission lines and 800,000 substations around the world. You can look up all the data centres in any country, and even charging points for electric cars.

As is to be expected with these maps, the quality of the data greatly limits the coverage. In the United States and Europe, the data is detailed, whilst in other regions it is more limited. But for a general overview, it likely offers more detail than most other tools out there.

Map of the Island of Desire (1931)

Maps usually show the surrounding territory, but every so often they simply become an incredible allegory for addressing a reality. This map by Heinie, published in 1931, reflects the sentiment of Americans towards Prohibition, which had been attempting to control alcohol consumption in the country since 1920.

The map is littered with geographical features intended to mock the law’s inefficiency and the reality that almost everyone was still drinking almost as much as before, whether in the Whisky Strait, Rum Bay or Champagne Lake. One thing is certain: everyone would end up the next morning in the Hangover Hollow.

Where and when?

To finish off, I’ll leave you with a game that several people sent me a few days ago.

Many of you are probably familiar with GeoGuessr, the game that drops you somewhere via Street View and expects you to pinpoint exactly where in the world it is. Well, WenWare takes it a step further and shows you a historical event, asking you to identify the year and place where it occurred.

The 360-degree images used in the game are created and rendered using AI, so in some cases the locations aren’t entirely realistic, but it’s still good for a bit of fun. You can read more about the creator on Reddit.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,200 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

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Today’s topic may be a sensitive one, so I will use this introduction to lay some groundwork that will help contextualise what follows.

Schools and educational models are what enable us to regulate the knowledge that every citizen needs to coexist and successfully serve the society of which they are a part. At its most fundamental level, this is how children learn to read, write and grasp basic mathematical concepts. All systems include various subjects that present pupils with knowledge in other fields such as biology, physics, chemistry or foreign languages. Beyond that, there are also subjects that help them understand cultural traditions, history or the administrative and political foundations of the state of which they are a part of. It is important that all this is taught from a young age, as the great plasticity of young people allows these foundations to become firmly rooted in the individual. And it is precisely this last point that makes education such a magnet for propaganda.

This leads us to a major debate. Where does education end and propaganda begin? Of everything taught to a child, what is acceptable to society and what is not? The debate over the distinction between education and propaganda is one that has been going on for over a century in academic circles, and perhaps many centuries longer in conversations among citizens. People are uncomfortable with the possibility that schools might be indoctrinating their children with ideas or values that do not align with their own. In fact, it is a recurring topic of conversation whenever there is an educational reform, as there is always a fear that schools might be used as a platform for indoctrination, whether by teachers with a personal agenda or out of self-interest and under the direction of those in government.

The question has no answer, or at least no obvious, consensus-based answer1. It is easy to fall into simplistic arguments, such as the notion that education focuses on what is true, whilst propaganda seeks to distort that truth. If this were the case, who would determine what is true and what is false? It may be easy to reach agreement in mathematics and even in some sciences, but it would prove far more complicated when we delve into history or the values of society.

With that dilemma, I will now turn to today’s topic: educational propaganda in Imperial Japan.

The Meiji Restoration and Gakusei

The history of Japan is the history of an isolationist nation, at least before the first arrival of the West. From that point on, it did not take long for a series of restrictions on international relations to be established, which were enshrined in the sakoku policy. This completely prohibited anyone from entering or leaving the country, with contact limited to Korea, China, and the Netherlands, its sole trading partner in the West. Following a civil war, the Meiji Restoration arrived in 1868 and, with it, the transition to modernity.

The Meiji Restoration can be understood as a set of changes that transformed Japan from a medieval society into a modern state, like the many that emerged across the world between the 18th and 19th centuries. Among the many reforms, society was restructured, eradicating the complex class system to simplify it into just two classes: one comprising the privileged groups, such as aristocrats and samurai, and another for the rest of the population, including farmers, artisans, and merchants. More significant was the economic reform, which centred on the industrialisation of the country; to achieve this, it was necessary to open the borders and begin exchanging knowledge with foreign powers.

On 3 August 1872, just four years after Emperor Meiji came to power, the first national education plan, known as Gakusei, was announced. For all the reforms being implemented to have a lasting impact, education had to reach all sectors of society, as until then, it had been limited to the samurai, focusing exclusively on calligraphy, the use of the abacus and the study of Confucian classics. Heavily influenced by Western education systems, Gakusei brought primary education to all the country’s young people, expanding the subjects taught to include reading, writing, public speaking, history, geography, science, arithmetic, health, and ethics.

One of the main problems encountered by this reform was the lack of books and resources to cover the new curriculum. Initially, the decision was made to repurpose all existing material and import books from the West, which could be used to cover the new subjects. The lack of planning meant that the subjects and their content were not age-appropriate for the pupils, so the Ministry of Education soon had to change its strategy and begin creating its own materials. In geography, two of the earliest examples can be found in these two maps produced by the cartographer Shūichi Miyake in 1876 to depict Asia and Africa.

These two maps are particularly interesting, as they clearly illustrate Japan’s isolation up to that point. The maps show territories on each continent, but only consider part of the political reality of these regions. The fact is that this was not yet of interest to a country that was just beginning to open up; it was sufficient for school pupils to become familiar with the idea that the world was a place far beyond the archipelago, that these lands could be divided into a series of regions, and that within these there were some important states.

In the same lines, other more elaborate works soon appeared, which were necessary for studying specific subjects within the Japanese context. In 1885, Japan’s first thematic atlas, Agricultural Production of the Empire of Japan2, was published. Although its primary purpose was to provide data on Japan’s agricultural system, it offered a high level of detail on the country’s geography and geology. This atlas, like much of the material produced during this period, was written in both English and Japanese so that it could be used to exchange information and continue to receive material from other countries.

Propaganda for the new education system

In 1895, the Empire of Japan began its expansionist period, with the first wars in which it faced China and Russia. This new character gradually impacted the education system, which began to transmit a series of precepts designed to ensure that Japanese citizens shared the Emperor’s and the Japanese government’s worldview.

Within the subjects devoted primarily to ethics, public speaking and history, the Kokutai was promulgated, Japan’s particular way of understanding the national essence. Unlike many European states, such as France, in the Empire of Japan national identity does not emerge from the people, but flows from the divine status of the Emperor, as a direct descendant of Jinmu Tennō3. But what is perhaps most curious is that this Japanese nationalism with spiritual roots does not reinforce the importance of religion within the state or the society, but merely uses the leader’s divinity and spirituality to legitimise his position in power. Furthermore, all students were considered children of the Emperor, and they were expected to sacrifice themselves, if necessary, to serve the nation.

To reinforce the idea of superiority in the youngest children, the Ministry of Education also made use of other scientific subjects. The best example is the theory of evolution, which clashed head-on with Japan’s religious and cultural traditions, yet became part of the school curriculum. The reason was not a conviction that Darwin was correct, but rather that it was used as a necessary tool to explore the superiority of the Japanese people from a different perspective. Much like what occurred in Nazi Germany, the theory of evolution also came to be used to justify eugenics as a legitimate means of maintaining the power of the Empire of Japan4.

As part of the education system, the teachers, and lecturers delivering the lessons were also key figures. Government associations were established, in which all education professionals were obliged to participate. The aim was to ensure a constant level of peer pressure, making it easy to identify non-compliant individuals and ensuring that all were compelled to teach in accordance with the guidelines set by the State. These associations involved the Army, which had the authority to supervise lessons. Intervention was rarely necessary, as the mere threat proved sufficient to maintain consistency among the teaching staff.

Once the Second World War had broken out, the need for propaganda to secure the support of the younger generation increased. The Government was aware that it could not conceal its expansionist agenda, so all the work in schools was supplemented by a series of magazines that highlighted the Army’s sacrifices for the good of Japanese society. Throughout 1940, several issues of a magazine entitled Comrades and Students at the Front were published, recounting the exploits of the youngest members of the Army as proof that every member of society could make a difference. This magazine was also accompanied by numerous maps illustrating the advances of the Empire of Japan.

Through this magazine, the government ensured that students were aware of what was happening in the world, and it enabled teachers to adapt their teaching to include references to the new enemies and the reasons why the Japanese Empire’s actions in the Pacific and Asia were justified.

Education beyond schools

Unlike in other countries, like the Soviet Union, the United Kingdom or Germany, youth organisations were of little significance in Japan. The only example of this was the creation of the Greater Japan Youth Party in 1937, inspired by the Hitler Youth, but two years after its creation it had barely reached 2,000 members. Without organisations to occupy children’s spare time, how did the Japanese government ensure that the narrative would also prevail outside school hours? The answer lies in something as characteristic of Japan as manga.

Seeking a context detached from a purely educational nature, many publishers in Japan began to publish various magazines intended to occupy children’s spare time when they got home. One example is the children’s magazine Shonen Kurabu, which began publication in 1914, focusing on poetry and serialised novels with some illustrations. The content established a narrative dominated by positivism and the idea that every citizen must fulfil their duty of their own choosing, without waiting for orders from anyone. At the same time, it emphasised the need to pay attention at school and to be a dignified and strong person.

The real breakthrough for Shonen Kurabu came in 1931, when they began including Norakuro in the magazine, a manga series starring an anthropomorphic dog who served in the Fierce Dogs Regiment. Throughout the series, the main character, Norakuro, rises through the ranks of the dog army whilst fighting the pig army from the continent. The propaganda in this story seeks to influence readers in every possible way. Firstly, and structurally, the protagonist embodies the Japanese ideal: effort and dedication to serve the homeland and thus emerge as a war hero. The enemy army is situated on the Asian mainland, which allows for a quick association with the Chinese Army that Japan had been facing since the invasion of Manchuria in 1931. The characterisation of the enemies as pigs establishes a marked difference between the Japanese and the Chinese, which is nothing more than a representation for a young audience of the sense of cultural superiority that the Government had imposed in the Empire of Japan.

The manga’s success in Japan was accompanied by the success of its animated version, the anime. This format faced significant competition from animated films imported from the West in the 1920s and 1930s, which surpassed domestic productions in both quality and price. The only way anime could establish itself was by exploring themes closer to Japanese society. This was key to getting adults to identify with the content and choose to take their children to the cinema to watch these films, which leaned into cultural references and aimed, in one way or another, to preserve the values of the Japanese nation.

In 1939, with the ban on the screening of foreign films, Japanese anime experienced its first golden age. This was accompanied by educational shorts featuring the very same characters that dominated the cinemas, which helped children themselves ask their parents to take them to see the films, allowing the propaganda to take deeper root. The most iconic anime of this period was released in 1943: Momotarō no Umiwashi5. Momotarō, the protagonist of this children’s film, is a figure from Japanese folklore with whom parents and children were already very familiar.

The story tells how this character is joined by a group of animals on a mission to destroy Demon Island, whose inhabitants were portrayed as Americans and British. To make it more credible, the depiction of many of the island’s inhabitants followed the patterns of American animated characters with whom the audience was familiar thanks to years of watching such films. This is the case with the appearance of Brutus, Popeye’s antagonist, as an enemy soldier who abused alcohol and lacked any discipline. In itself, the entire film is a clear reference to Pearl Harbor and a justification of the Japanese Army’s actions aimed at the broader public.

This film had a sequel, Momotarō - Umi no Shinpei6, which was released in 1945, a few months before the end of the war. This work is the first feature-length anime and, alongside its predecessor, a masterpiece of Japanese propaganda from this period. On this occasion, the protagonist travels to the island of Celebes, which during the war went from being a Dutch colony to being occupied by the Empire of Japan. Momotarō, portrayed as a general in the Japanese Army, arrives on the island accompanied by his animal friends and encounters a population of animals living in extreme poverty. The narrative conveyed by the film portrays Japan as the Empire acting to liberate all of Asia and capable of bringing progress to the rest of the regions. Through all this, the anime reinforces the Pan-Asian ideal that Japan used to justify the invasion of numerous countries in continental Asia and the Pacific.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,200 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

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In February 2009, it had been barely five months since I’d left my first job1. I decided to pay a visit to some friends I’d left behind there, making the most of the fact that I had a day off, and they were all working. My new job had me travelling all day, so although we kept in touch by phone and email, there weren’t many opportunities for us to get together.

As always, we caught up. We talked about mundane things like work, but also about some life changes that some of them had in mind. That was when C. told us that his sister was getting married in August, and that he was keen to return to Lebanon to celebrate it. What’s more, the family also wanted us to accompany them to the wedding. C. and his family had arrived in Spain in early 2007, and from the first day they were extraordinarily hospitable people, eager to share and to learn. None of us were surprised by the invitation and, after giving it very little thought2, three of us accepted.

I’ve never been a particularly indecisive person, and there have been countless times when I’ve made decisions without studying everything in detail. This is especially common when it comes to travelling. That trip to Lebanon was yet another example. I remember we were exploring different options and combinations to make the trip even more interesting. One option was to take the opportunity to visit Syria, although we eventually opted for Jordan, mainly because Petra was very much on everyone’s mind. I must confess that I have often thought back on this decision, as there will be no other chance to visit the Syria I could have visited3.

After four or five days in Jordan, we arrived in Lebanon on 11 August, and I discovered a world for which I was absolutely unprepared.

A country that doesn’t fit on the map

Lebanon is a country of relatively small size. Covering some 10,000 square kilometres, it is smaller than Connecticut (United States) or Cyprus, yet it has a population of over five million. All of them crammed in, with the Mediterranean Sea to the west, Syria to the north and east, and Israel to the south. A territory that is also home to a rich history of the peoples who shaped it, such as the Phoenicians, Persians, Greeks, Romans, Arabs, Crusaders, Ottomans, and French4.

You might think that, with so many inhabitants and so little territory, the landscape would be relatively flat and fertile, but nothing could be further from the truth. The mountains of Lebanon reach an altitude of 3,000 metres, less than 30 kilometres from the coast, behind which lies the fertile Beqaa Valley, separated from Syria only by the Anti-Lebanon mountain range. This terrain creates a diversity of landscapes that includes Mediterranean coast, alpine ski resorts, semi-arid steppe, and fertile agricultural valleys, all within a two-hour drive of each other. And beneath those mountains lies one of the most coveted treasures in the entire Middle East: the region’s largest freshwater reserve.

This geography is merely the first level of complexity; the second is religious. Officially, Lebanon recognises eighteen different religious denominations, including Shia, Sunni, Druze, Alawite, Maronite, Greek Orthodox, Greek Catholic, Armenian and even a small Jewish community. It is known that all these denominations are active, but since the census carried out under French control in 1932, no further census has been conducted. The reason may seem surprising, but it is indicative of the country’s fragile political balance.

Following Lebanon’s independence in 1943, the country’s leaders established an unwritten agreement popularly known as the National Pact: the President of the Republic would always be a Maronite Christian, the Prime Minister a Sunni Muslim and the Speaker of Parliament a Shia Muslim. This arrangement ensured that none of the major religious groups would be excluded from power, but it also established a distinct religious identity. This pact survived the 15-year civil war, as the Taif Agreement, signed in 1989, consolidated this division of power with a slight adjustment to the respective powers, an agreement that remains in place to this day5 and which, were a new religious census to be carried out, could be overturned after more than 80 years of democracy and coexistence.

All of that is what is written on paper, but the reality on the streets is slightly different. I remember perfectly well walking through Beirut and seeing a woman in a low-cut top and another in a hijab chatting away, or a mosque just a few metres away from a church. It didn’t seem as though the existence of the other building mattered in the slightest to anyone. It didn’t feel as though coexistence was forced by the country’s constitution, but rather that it felt genuinely authentic. Of course, there were neighbourhoods and areas where certain faiths predominated over others, but that did not seem to exclude anyone. Lebanon’s conflicts throughout history have almost always derived from foreign interference or problems at the highest levels. Ordinary people coexist and are neighbours, in a sort of functional indifference6.

Lebanon’s aspirations are also important for a deeper understanding of the country. Between the 1950s and the 1970s, the inhabitants of Beirut liked to refer to their city as the Paris of the Middle East. They were not seeking easy tourism and money, but rather a project of identity. Beirut was the most cosmopolitan city in the entire Middle East, with prestigious universities, multinational companies operating there and a nightlife that attracted Arabs and Europeans alike. Beirut had what few other capitals in the region could offer: a free press, miniskirts, and minarets on the same avenue, Lebanese wine on the Mediterranean beach and mountain skiing less than an hour away. A country where things coexisted that were incompatible elsewhere in the Arab world.

And, well, it lasted as long as it did.

In 1975, a civil war broke out that lasted fifteen years. Then came an attempt at reconstruction, which, after another fifteen years, was cut short by the 2006 war with Israel. And with all that, in August 2009, I arrived with two friends at Beirut airport without knowing much about what to expect.

The Lebanon I experienced

My older sister had been insisting for weeks beforehand that I shouldn’t go, and, as I’ve done practically all my life, I didn’t pay her much heed. I adore my sister, but her perception of danger has always been exaggerated, though that doesn’t mean mine wasn’t slightly limited at the time. I don’t think I had a real sense of what I was getting myself into until we arrived at Amman airport to catch the flight to Beirut. There we had to go through multiple passport checks, as is the case at airports, though with the major difference that they checked every page of our passports up to three times. The last official also asked us directly what they were looking for: whether we had visited Israel recently. If the answer was yes, entry into Lebanon was strictly prohibited7.

C. picked us up at the airport, and we began the journey to his town, Zahlé, in the Beqaa Valley. It was during that journey that the reality really hit home. A journey that should have taken barely an hour stretched to almost two hours. It was mainly because we had to travel along a multitude of secondary roads, as many of the bridges of the main road had been destroyed three years ago, and they were not yet rebuilt8. Furthermore, I was also surprised by the number of army checkpoints along the road, although we quickly realised this was quite routine.

Finally, we arrived at our destination.

Zahlé is a perfect example of Lebanon’s diversity. It is home to Lebanon’s largest Catholic community, dominated by a 10-metre-tall bronze statue of the Virgin Mary, standing on a 54-metre-high concrete platform on one of the city’s hills. There I discovered that, unlike in Jordan, you could have a beer in any café without a problem, and that you could enjoy the region’s typical wine. C.’s family gave us a wonderful welcome and introduced us to the extended family, where I saw once again that human concerns easily transcend cultural boundaries.

And the wedding. What a wedding! I don’t know how many of you have had the chance to attend weddings in cultures different from your own, but it’s an experience you shouldn’t miss if you get the chance. It was three days of celebration and tradition completely unconnected to everything I knew and, perhaps for that very reason, fascinating. Although the wedding was Catholic, the tradition in Zahlé is nothing like what I learnt in my teenage years in Catholic Spain. It incorporated many elements of Orthodox traditions, such as the absence of statues in the churches, the use of crowns during the ceremony, or the bride and groom circling the altar three times whilst dancing9.

Then came the reception, which was more like a fancy party. There was live music, and even a sort of performance. Meanwhile, we were able to chat, to dance and, the most important of all, to eat. The food was absolutely marvellous. I’m sure many of you have tried Lebanese food in an international restaurant, but the culinary variety goes far beyond what a restaurant abroad can offer10.

Of course, the three of us, the Spanish visitors, were keen to do some sightseeing, as it was our first time in Lebanon. Everyone recommended we visit Baalbek, though they insisted we go with someone, so C. came along with us. In Baalbek, 40 kilometres north of Zahlé, lie some of the best-preserved Roman ruins in the whole of the Middle East. The area is rural and there were hardly any tourists, so we parked in front of the entrance and C. went to buy the tickets.

I remember perfectly a strange sight that caught the attention of the three of us as we waited. It was a civilian walking around the area, talking to various people and to all the police officers around the ruins. Somehow, we sensed that this civilian was controlling the situation, although at the time we couldn’t quite grasp exactly what was going on. C. returned with the tickets and explained that the man was a member of Hezbollah, the group controlling that region. But he also told us not to worry, as the areas controlled by Hezbollah were, by far, the safest11.

Over the following days, we also took the opportunity to visit the coast. I was fascinated by the Jeita Grotto, a vast cave system that allows you to see the mountains’ impressive freshwater reserves at first hand. From there we went to the Mediterranean beach which, despite being far away, still had something about it that made it feel familiar. I also enjoyed having a quiet dinner in the streets of Byblos, a city steeped in history that you can still feel in its walls. And Beirut, a unique city. It may never have quite become the Paris of the Middle East, but it certainly has a special and unique character. I spent one of the best nights out of my life there12.

The only regret I was left with was not being able to visit a cedar forest. My plan had been to spend a day walking through one of those cedar forests in the southern Beqaa Valley, but when we mentioned it to C.’s father, he put a stop to it straight away: not to even think about it, as it was far too dangerous. We didn’t press the matter.

The trip came to an end. C. took us to the airport, and we returned to Spain, the three of us intending to go back to Lebanon at some point.

What came next

Time passes and relationships cool off. It’s something I’ve come to understand over the years and have learnt to live with. It’s not that anything in particular happened, but lives drift in different directions, all the more so when we’re all constantly travelling for work and don’t even live in the same country at weekends. That idea of returning to Lebanon became increasingly distant, and the fact that there was a civil war on the Syrian border, with millions of refugees moving through the region, didn’t exactly encourage us either.

Then came August 2020. A massive explosion in the port of Beirut dominated the front pages of all the international newspapers. When I saw the news, I contacted C. to find out how he and his family were. C. had been living in the United States for years, but his sister had suffered the direct consequences of the explosion, as the windows of her house in Beirut, in another part of the city, had been completely shattered. Fortunately, no one in his family was among the hundreds of victims of the incident.

Then came October 2023. Israel entered Gaza, and Hezbollah decided to open a front in the north to support Hamas from southern Lebanon. Since then, things have only got worse. What began as limited exchanges of fire ended with a new Israeli invasion in the autumn of 2024. A ceasefire was eventually signed, but never true peace.

Last February, the US and Israeli attack on Iran reignited the conflict. Hezbollah responded once again, and Israel once more destroyed all the bridges that had taken so much effort to rebuild. More than a million people have had to flee their homes in the south of the country, whilst everyone awaits an Israeli ground invasion.

The idea of returning to Lebanon feels further away than ever. And coming from someone who has been putting off the trip for years, that’s saying a lot.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,200 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

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We are still in the middle of an extremely busy year. Although only a quarter of it has passed, you’d think we’ve been in the muddy waters of 2026 for decades. And it doesn’t look like things are going to slow down. The good news is that the maps various creators are publishing or rediscovering are also keeping up the pace. That means we can bring you the latest instalment of the maps of the month without too much trouble.

Here is a list of what you’ll find in this edition:

• The Strait of Hormuz

• Israel’s plans in Lebanon

• NATO map

• The Blackout maps

• Another way to represent election results

• Neverland

• Luxembourg is not a microstate

• Child Penalty Atlas

• The first flow map

• How much sugar is in Fanta?

• 38 million escaped, 10 million died (1943)

The Strait of Hormuz

The war against Iran launched by Israel and the United States just over a month ago is still ongoing. Sadly, we may be getting used to the news, but the reality is that the escalation of violence shows no clear end in sight1. In the past weeks, almost all media attention has shifted to the Strait of Hormuz. 20% of the world’s oil passes every day through this stretch of water, 167 kilometres long and 39 kilometres wide. At least it did until Iran decided to close it a few weeks ago, reducing the number of ships from around 130 a day to barely 5 or 6.

Al Jazeera published a remarkable visual guide this March on the Iranian coastline, its strategic islands and the Strait of Hormuz. That is where I got the map you can see above, but I recommend you have a look at their website for more in-depth understanding of why this part of the world is so strategically important for the world.

Israel’s plans in Lebanon

On 2 March, just two days after the war against Iran began, Khamenei’s death was confirmed. As a direct consequence, Hezbollah launched retaliatory strikes, turning southern Lebanon into a new front in the war. What began as an exchange of missiles has rapidly turned into a ground operation through which Israel seeks to occupy southern Lebanon, more specifically the entire territory south of the Litani River. Israel’s current objective is to shift the de facto border with Lebanon to the river.

The choice of the Litani as the border is no coincidence. UN Resolution 1701, adopted in 2006, already referred to this river, demanding that Hezbollah withdraw north of that borderline. Twenty years later, Israel wants to enforce compliance with that resolution and much more. It no longer seeks only for Hezbollah to disappear from southern Lebanon, but for hundreds of thousands of Lebanese to abandon their homes in the region so that it can be occupied by Israel.

All this is not mere speculation; Israel’s Finance Minister has already asserted that the country’s intention is to establish the new international border at the Litani River.

NATO map

NATO is the West’s major military alliance. It was established in 1949 with 12 members, and over the decades has expanded to its current 32 members. Recently, and more intensely in past weeks, Donald Trump has repeatedly questioned the value of this alliance, as he does not feel the United States is receiving the support it needs. In response, many world leaders and media outlets have insisted that NATO is a defensive alliance. They reference that Article 5 is only relevant when a member state has been attacked, which is not the case in the war with Iran, initiated by the United States and Israel.

But I would like to take this opportunity to speak briefly about the first two articles that appear in the treaty before the famous Article 5, as I think we are overlooking the most fundamental aspect of NATO2:

• Article 1: Members undertake to settle their disputes by peaceful means and not to threaten international peace.

• Article 2: Members shall strengthen their free institutions and promote economic cooperation amongst themselves.

That’s right, NATO explicitly calls for the use of peaceful means, for international peace not to be threatened, and for economic cooperation amongst members. Trump is threatening to leave NATO because he mistakenly believes that the other members should support the United States in its war with Iran. What I believe is that NATO will be irrelevant as long as its most powerful member has not the slightest intention of complying with the principles of peace and cooperation.

The Blackout Maps

Almost a year after The Blackout on the Iberian Peninsula, we now have a detailed report on what happened. On 20 March, ENTSO-E published a 472-page report on the events of 28 April 20253. I have taken the map above from the report. It shows the four major waves of disconnection that occurred during the 90 seconds leading up to the collapse of the electricity grid.

The second map, which you can see below, shows the events of the following hours and the process of restoring the supply. Power returned to the country via the eastern Pyrenees, the western Pyrenees and the south. Successively, several substations were brought back online, whilst some also attempted to restart unsuccessfully (all purple circles) or successfully (green and blue circles).

The report’s conclusion is more or less what many had been saying for some time. There was no sabotage, nor was there a single responsible. What there was, however, was a system designed for a different energy mix, which became destabilised until it reached the point of no return.

Another way of representing the election results

On 8 March, elections were held in the region of Baden-Württemberg, Germany. The map above shows the winners in each constituency, where we can see that the CDU won the majority of them, followed by the Greens with significantly fewer and Alternative for Germany with just one. But of course, this view is partially misleading, as the Greens secured the majority of the votes and the same number of seats as the CDU. Alternative for Germany, despite winning in only one constituency, also secured 35 seats, compared to the 56 held by the Greens and the CDU.

Election maps often have this problem: depending on how the information is displayed, it can lead to one set of conclusions or another. That’s why I really liked Benjamin Niedermann’s visualisation of these elections, which I discovered via the Nosolosig newsletter4. It is an interactive map that allows you to set a radius and visualise each party’s success in all the municipalities that fall within the circle. The experience is wonderful and helps you understand the distribution of votes much better than other classic electoral maps.

Neverland

This map was published by in her newsletter5 and, as usual, it is absolutely marvellous. It is an analysis of the cartography of Neverland, covering both the location of Peter Pan’s island and the features of its interior geography. The story traces how all this was built up step by step, adaptation after adaptation.

As Cristina rightly says, Neverland is not a place that can be mapped in a single common way, since it is different in the mind of every child who reads the book. Even so, the map you can see above, also created by Cristina, is really lovely.

Luxembourg is not a microstate

People often refer to Luxembourg as a microstate. And yes, it is one of the smallest states in Europe, but globally it ranks 26th on the list of the world’s smallest countries. And here’s the point: true microstates are much smaller.

This map compares the size of Luxembourg with that of seven countries that are commonly referred to as microstates6: Singapore, Andorra, Malta, Liechtenstein, San Marino, Monaco, and the Vatican. Yes, all of them would fit inside Luxembourg and would only occupy about two-thirds of its territory.

Child Penalty Atlas

Much has been said on this subject, but it is important to emphasise it because it is far from being resolved. This is an academic project that explores the career penalty women face for becoming mothers. In other words, it quantifies how much women’s employment and income fall after having children.

It is clear that, broadly speaking, almost all countries perform poorly in this regard. The impact is limited only in parts of Africa, parts of Asia and Scandinavia, with appalling figures across almost all of Latin America, much of Europe and the Muslim world, as well as Japan and South Korea.

On the Child Penalty Atlas website, you can explore the various indicators interactively.

The first flow map

Until a few weeks ago, if you had asked me which was the first flow map in history, I would have said without hesitation that it was Henry Drury Harness’s map. More specifically, the map he published in 1837 on the transport of passengers and commercial goods in Ireland.

This March, revealed to me that Harness was not the pioneer either, but that honour should go to Imre Milecz, the author of the map you can see above. In this article, you can explore this important piece of Hungarian cartography in detail; it goes far beyond being a map of the routes and volumes of the salt trade in the Kingdom of Hungary in 1773, and opens up an interesting debate about the first flow map.

How much sugar is in Fanta?

This March, I’ve also decided I need to eat a bit better7, so I’ve been reading quite a bit about nutrition and things I should avoid. One of the hardest things is figuring out which drinks are best to have when you go out at the weekend. I don’t mind drinking water and sparkling water, but it can get a bit repetitive. I want to avoid alcohol, but I can’t exactly consume all the sugar in the world either… and almost all drinks are packed with sugar. Have you ever noticed how much sugar there is in non-alcoholic beer?

In this context, a week ago, I came across the map you can see above, which shows the amount of sugar in a can of Fanta in different countries. I thought it was already excessive in Spain, but when compared with the rest of Europe (and the United States), it seems like nothing. Watch out for the United States, Italy or Belgium.

38 million escaped, 10 million died (1943)

To finish off, I’ve included a map that I uploaded to the catalogue last month and which I consider a true masterpiece. It is a propaganda map simulating the impact that Operation Barbarossa would have had on the United States. The Soviet territory occupied by Nazi Germany in early 1943 is shown in brown, and various American cities are matched with their Soviet counterparts.

The aim was to generate empathy with the cause to secure support in the United States for participation on the European front of the Second World War. An empathy that, little by little, eventually worked.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,200 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

If you like what you read, don’t hesitate to subscribe to receive an email with each new article that is published.

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Two and a half years ago, several videos of couples talking about the Roman Empire went viral on the internet. More specifically, women asking their boyfriends and husbands how often they thought about the Roman Empire, and many of them were surprised by the answer. Many of the men replied that they thought about the Roman Empire several times a week, and quite a few said they did so every day.

YouGov decided to dedicate an article to this topic, accompanied by a survey. The evidence suggests that the viral moment was guilty of cherry-picking, although the data does support the idea that men think about the Roman Empire more than women.

What it does make more or less clear is that the Roman Empire is a topic of general interest, at least for 60% of those surveyed. So, taking advantage of the fact that I have many maps covering the Roman Empire and its history, I’ve decided to dedicate this first monograph to the subject.

There are 24 maps, and I promise it will be worth it.

1. The Roman Empire (117 AD)

To begin with, here is one of the maps that best illustrates the extent of the empire that people generally have in mind when talking about the Roman Empire. This is usually considered the point at which it reached its greatest extent, at the end of Trajan’s rule, in 117 AD.

You’ll see these borders on many maps, though some will also include territories that were indeed part of Rome at some point, but not necessarily during this period. This is often the case with Caledonia, the southern part of Scotland, between Hadrian’s Wall and the Antonine Wall, which was not conquered until the mid-2nd century. It is also true of some parts of Germania, which were part of Rome during the 1st century but had been completely lost by Trajan’s time.

On this map, and on any other map of the Roman Empire, it is important to understand that the borders drawn as lines were far more diffuse than a map can represent. The borders between countries as we know them today cannot be equated with the borders between powers in Antiquity. In some cases, such as in the Sahara region, borders did not even exist.

2. The Roman conquest of Italy

The founding of Rome is usually dated to 753 BC. During the early centuries, it was one of many cities in Italy competing for dominance. Until 509 BC, the city’s system of government was a monarchy, although from that point onwards the Roman Republic was established. By then, Rome had already established itself in its immediate surroundings, and this marked the beginning of its period of expansion across the peninsula.

Initially, expansion was very slow. The first step was to gain control over all the Latin peoples, which was consolidated at the end of the Second Latin War in 338 BC. From that point on, expansion proceeded much more rapidly. Rome had to fight three wars against the Samnites to take control of the entire central region, around 290 BC. It then faced the Etruscans to the north, the Greeks to the south and, finally, the Carthaginians. By the end of the 3rd century BC, the Roman Republic already controlled almost all of Italy and the three major islands: Corsica, Sardinia and Sicily.

3. The territorial expansion of the Roman Republic

Over the next two centuries, expansion reached far beyond Italy. The Roman Republic, with its effective army and naval power, took control of the Mediterranean coast of Hispania, all the territories under Carthaginian rule, the eastern Adriatic coast and the southern Balkans.

It also crossed into Asia Minor and took control of the entire coast of Anatolia, eventually reaching Egypt. Shortly before this happened, Julius Caesar achieved one of the most iconic and memorable conquests: that of Gaul.

4. The territorial expansion of the Roman Empire

In 19 BC, during the reign of Augustus, Rome transitioned from a republic to an empire. Augustus had been in power for eight years when he was granted supreme power, the Imperium Maius.

The war machine, which was so economically vital to the Roman Empire, continued to operate and conquer territories. Perhaps the most significant milestone was securing all the coasts of the Mediterranean Sea, which the Romans very descriptively called Mare Nostrum, our sea. But they did not stop there; they managed to establish themselves in Thrace and Dacia, reached the entire Fertile Crescent, and even managed to establish several protectorates that also surrounded the coasts of the Pontus Euxinus, the Black Sea.

5. The Punic Wars

As we have briefly seen, Rome waged many wars to achieve such territorial expansion. The wars fought in Italy were local in nature and lacked the scale of a world power of the time. It was not until they faced the Carthaginians that Rome was forced to view war in a different light.

In the First Punic War (264–241 BC), the Roman Republic succeeded in establishing naval supremacy for the first time, which gave it access to Sicily. The Second Punic War (218–201 BC) marked the first large-scale confrontation between Carthage and Rome, in which the Carthaginians proved their worth by putting the Romans on the back foot. However, in the end Rome prevailed and reduced what had been the most powerful force in the Mediterranean to a small, subjugated state that had no right even to defend itself against external aggression.

The Third Punic War (149–146 BC), which is not shown on this map, was the shortest of the three, as it merely involved the definitive destruction of Carthage, to prevent its economic recovery from posing a problem in the future.

6. The Conquest of Gaul

This conquest is very well documented in Bellum Gallicum, a book written by Julius Caesar himself. Precisely for that reason, it is also a gem of propaganda from the period, as it highlights Roman victories, ignores many of the legions’ defeats and excessively glorifies the figure of Julius Caesar.

This map shows the route taken by the Roman campaigns led by Julius Caesar between 58 BC and 51 BC. During those seven years, he fought dozens of battles against various Celtic tribes, which established him as a prestigious military leader. This gave him sufficient power to stand up to Pompey the Great and the Roman Senate, against whom he won the Roman Civil War. Finally, he was appointed dictator for ten years in 46 BC and dictator for life in 44 BC, shortly before he was assassinated.

7. The Legions of Augustus

Augustus, in addition to establishing the Roman Empire, was also responsible for reforming the Roman army and its professionalisation. The legions had previously been temporary formations created solely for specific campaigns, but following the civil wars it became clear that they needed to be made permanent and form the backbone of the Empire.

The 28 new legions did no longer answer to the Senate or to the general who led them, but directly to Augustus. Furthermore, they were distributed, as shown on the map, along the Empire’s most strategic frontiers, both for defence and to serve as occupying forces.

8. The Great Migrations

The Roman Empire reached an extent unknown to any other civilisation up to that time. The war economy helped to ensure Rome’s prosperity, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to sustain these victories over time. In the 3rd century AD, the first temporary breakaways began, such as that of Gaul in the west and Palmyra in the east.

This growing weakness coincided with what is popularly known as the Barbarian Invasions, although it would be more accurate to call it the period of the Migration Period. The term ‘Barbarian Invasions’ was coined by 19th-century historiography, although we now know that what actually happened was a series of peoples migrating from east to west for various reasons. This ultimately led the peoples bordering the Roman Empire to take advantage of its decline to seek a better life in those lands.

This is the context in which we must interpret this map, which shows the multiple incursions of the Huns, the Visigoths, the Vandals, the Suebi and the Alans.

9. The division of the Roman Empire

During the Roman Republic, there were two triumvirates that established an informal division of power; the second of these also established a division of the territory among three leaders: Octavian, Mark Antony and Lepidus. That did not end well and, for three centuries, the emperor’s power was absolute over the entire territory.

At the end of the 3rd century AD, Diocletian established the Tetrarchy, through which he divided the empire between two Augusti and two Caesars. The Roman Empire formally remained one, but in reality the four regions operated autonomously, which allowed them to respond to the internal and external threats facing each territory.

Diocletian’s arrangement was not permanent, unlike that of Theodosius in 395 AD, which is shown on this map. Emperor Theodosius granted the Western Roman Empire to his son Honorius and the Eastern Roman Empire to his son Arcadius; as a result, the Roman Empire ceased to exist as a single entity. The West did not last even a hundred years, as the barbarian tribes brought it to an end, but the East remained a regional power for over a thousand years, until the fall of Constantinople in 1453.

10. Forma Urbis Romae

Not many maps of the Roman Empire have survived. In fact, you can practically count them on the fingers of one hand. We have numerous writings that we know were originally accompanied by maps, such as Ptolemy’s Geographia, but what I wanted to include some original examples that have survived to the present day.

The map above was published in 1756 depicting the existing remains of the Forma Urbis Romae, a gigantic map engraved on marble of the city of Rome. This map dates from the reign of Septimius Severus (203–211 AD) and was originally composed of 150 marble slabs that together measured 18 metres wide and 13 metres high.

Thanks to the little over 10% that has been preserved, we know that the map detailed all the neighbourhoods, streets, and the most important urban buildings. It is not only a unique cartographic gem of the period, but has also been an essential documentary piece for better understanding how the city of Rome was organised and for learning about the structure of some lost buildings.

11. Map of the stages of Dura-Europos

It cannot compete with the Forma Urbis Romae in terms of detail and importance, but it is a good example of how common maps were in Ancient Rome.

The map above was found in the city of Dura-Europos, in present-day Syria. It was drawn on the leather that covered a Roman soldier’s shield and is one of the few examples of Roman military cartography. At first glance, it might not seem particularly significant, were it not for the fact that it demonstrates that the Roman army used not only written itineraries but also graphic documents in the form of maps to help them navigate and carry out their missions.

The Dura-Europos route map depicts the various forts and settlements that formed part of a military route along the northern and western coasts of the Black Sea.

12. Anville’s maps

The Roman Empire not only fascinates us today, but is an institution that has attracted people throughout history. This is the reason why it is common to find ancient maps from all the period the Roman Empire existed. This, among other things, helps us to understand in great detail how that period was interpreted at other times in history.

The two maps shown above were drawn by the French cartographer Jean-Baptiste Bourguignon d’Anville in 1764, although they were not published until thirty years later, after his death. The two maps depict the two parts of the Roman Empire, showing its provinces, the main Roman cities and, to make them easier to interpret, the modern names of each of these cities.

These maps help us understand just how much was already known about the Roman Empire over two centuries ago, compared to other civilisations of the time. In case you’re interested, Anville drew several more detailed maps of the Roman Empire, such as this one of Britain and this one of Gaul.

13. Map of Pompeii (1825)

Another example of an ancient map depicting the Roman Empire is this one of the city of Pompeii. It was drawn in 1825 by Andrea de Jorio and is one of the earliest attempts to visually represent the layout of Pompeii. Excavations at Pompeii had only just begun, and very little information was available, though this did not prevent de Jorio from publishing what was known at the time.

In a way, this map of Pompeii aimed to be scientific, although it is clear that its artistic value prevailed. Not because of a lack of intention, but because of the severe lack of information, he had to take many liberties. It is best if you compare it for yourselves with what we currently know about Pompeii.

14. Map of Ancient Rome (1886)

In Pompeii, excavation was necessary to understand what had once stood there, but Rome remained an inhabited city to the present day. That is why no one will be surprised to learn of all the information already available in the 19th century regarding what ancient Rome might have looked like. This map by Gustav Droysen, published in 1886, is a fine example of this.

It shows the trajectory of the two most important walls of ancient Rome: the Servian Walls, dating from the 4th century BC, are shown in dark pink, and the Aurelian Walls, from the 3rd century AD, in light pink. As if that were not enough, the map also includes a vast array of significant monuments and buildings, as well as the 14 regions into which Augustus divided the administration of Rome, numbered from I to XIV.

If you look closely, you can also see on the map the seven hills upon which the city was founded, according to legend: the Aventine (M. Aventinus), the Capitoline (M. Capitolinus), the Caelian (Mons Caelius), the Esquiline (Mons Esquilinus), the Palatine Hill (Mons Palatinus), the Quirinal (Collis Quirinalis) and the Viminal (Collis Viminalis).

15. The growth of Christianity in the Roman Empire

In the decades following the proclamation of the Roman Empire, Christianity emerged in the region of Judea. What began as a small sect within Judaism gradually gained followers throughout the empire over the centuries.

On this map, you can see the cities with a Christian community in the 1st century, marked in blue, and where Christian communities appeared in the 2nd century, marked in purple. At the beginning of the 4th century AD, Constantine declared freedom of worship in the Empire and, with that, Christianity ceased to be persecuted. This is what allowed Christianity to expand from the small concentration of communities, shown in orange, to virtually the entire imperial territory.

Finally, it is also interesting to note on this map the Christian movements that had already been rejected by orthodoxy by the 5th century: Arianism, rejected at the Council of Nicaea (325); Nestorianism, rejected at the Council of Ephesus (431); and Monophysitism, rejected at the Council of Chalcedon (451). All these doctrines, along with any non-Christian religion, were banned after Theodosius established Christianity as the religion of the Empire.

16. The administrative divisions of the Roman Empire

The vastness of the Roman Empire required an efficient administration of the territory. Many other civilisations and empires had already done so before, notably the Achaemenid Empire and its introduction of the satrapies.

The Romans were familiar with territorial structures such as satrapies, which indirectly influenced the creation of their own territorial administration, initially centred on the provinces, as shown on the map. The existing provinces were restructured on multiple occasions, always with the aim of achieving control and efficient administration, which was perhaps not achieved to the same extent as by the Achaemenids, Medes, or Persians.

In the 3rd century, Diocletian and Constantine established new hierarchical levels within the administrative divisions, with the creation of dioceses and praetorian prefectures. The aim at all times was to improve administration, defence capabilities and tax collection.

17. All Roman settlements

So far, we have spoken repeatedly of the vast extent of the Roman Empire, but the uneven distribution of the population across the territory is often overlooked.

I particularly like this map, as it marks all known Roman settlements with a dot. In this way, one can see which regions were, in fact, the most important in the Roman Empire.

There is no doubt that Italy was to play a major role, but perhaps what is surprising is the great significance of the region conquered from Carthage, the whole of Greece, including its islands, and the Anatolian peninsula. The Nile Valley retained the importance it had held in the days of Ancient Egypt, and the entire Mediterranean Levant retained the significance it had held in Phoenician times.

18. The roads of the Roman Empire

Another key to the success of Ancient Rome was the creation of a road network connecting every corner of the Empire.

There are hundreds of maps showing this magnificent network, but I have always found this representation, matching a modern underground map, particularly interesting. It was a complex road network, but this simplicity allows us to see clearly how every corner was interconnected, in a decentralised yet highly effective manner for sustaining trade.

If you’re interested, there is an interactive map developed by Stanford University where you can view several additional layers of the road network, as well as the maritime networks and the flow of trade along each of the routes.

19. All the towers and fortifications of the Roman Empire

This other map is very similar to the one we saw above. Just as settlements allow us to see clearly where more people lived, the presence of defensive towers and fortifications helps us understand which were the key areas of the Roman Empire, whether during its period of expansion or its period of decline.

Northern Britain, the entire Rhine basin, Greece, Dacia and western Anatolia are clearly the key areas. This consistently coincides with the regions where the Empire waged its major conflicts against its neighbours over the centuries.

20. Topography of the Roman Empire

To conclude, I have two maps that I simply find beautiful.

This one shows the relief of the territory occupied by the Roman Empire at the height of its expansion. To accomplish this, instead of using the classic colours of a physical map, it uses two colours that held special symbolic meaning during the imperial period: purple, linked to imperial power, for the lower-lying areas, and gold, linked to divinity, for the higher ground.

21. A mash-up of Middle-earth and the Roman Empire

As a final map, one that transcends the historical world and ventures into fantasy. It remains a map of Europe with the borders of the Roman Empire, but on this occasion the position of the mountains is altered and blended with elements of the iconography used in the maps of Middle-earth from Tolkien’s books.

I particularly like how the Goths take on the role of Sauron in Mordor, and the other Germanic peoples appear as if they were different tribes of orcs.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,200 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

If you like what you read, don’t hesitate to subscribe to receive an email with each new article that is published.

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For the past couple of years, tensions between Canada and the United States have done nothing but escalate. Things began to turn ugly when Donald Trump suggested to Justin Trudeau, during a private meeting in late 2024, that Canada might become the 51st State of the Union. Trump posted that very idea on his social media platform in early 2025, and he has not let the topic rest since. What is more, less than a week ago he reiterated this idea, referring to Mark Carney, Canada’s Prime Minister, as Canada’s next governor1.

These recent tensions seemed almost impossible just a few years ago. The United States and Canada had been collaborating constructively for decades without their 9,000-kilometre shared border causing any tensions2, but this is a relatively recent development. There were clashes between Canada and the United States, and Canadian troops even went so far as to capture Washington and burn down the White House3. But perhaps it would be more appropriate to speak of a confrontation between the British Empire and the United States, since at that time Canada was still a British colony.

Canada’s path to independence was slow and gradual. It stretched from 1867, when the Dominion of Canada was established with a degree of self-government, to the signing of the Statute of Westminster in 1931. Throughout this process, the threat of a new open conflict between the United States and Canada never entirely disappeared.

The Red Plan

The United States did not play a crucial role in the First World War. The conflict had broken out in Europe and, although it had spread to virtually every continent, American involvement was difficult to justify, particularly to its own citizens. This meant that, although the United States did eventually enter the war in 1917, the British Empire emerged as the true victor, emerging from the conflict strengthened: it annexed the German colonies and remained the world’s leading naval and commercial power.

This latent threat led the United States to work on a plan known as the Joint Army and Navy Basic War Plan Red, popularly known as the Red Plan. It was a detailed plan to confront the British Empire, in which Canada, designated by the colour crimson, was considered the main theatre of military operations, given its strategic proximity to the United States.

The plan was first approved in 1930 and subsequently updated in 1935. As official US Army documents4 show, the plan was specific. As a starting point, it envisaged blockading the port of Halifax to prevent British reinforcements from landing via the Atlantic Ocean. Next, a column from Detroit and another from Albany would take control of Toronto and Montreal, respectively. Simultaneously, two other columns would seek to occupy Winnipeg and Vancouver.

Alongside the capture of the major cities, the plan also envisaged disabling the Niagara Falls power station, as well as other weak points that had been identified during the secret missions carried out by Charles Lindbergh5. Perhaps the most controversial aspect of the Red Plan was that Lindbergh himself recommended the use of chemical weapons at certain points in Hudson Bay.

The Red Plan also included a significant risk assessment exercise. It expressly warned of the power of the mounted police, which could not be minimized, as well as the importance of the Halifax blockade before more than 2.5 million British soldiers arrived to reinforce Canadian positions. Furthermore, it placed great emphasis on the fact that the British were known for not surrendering easily, so any implementation of the plan had to consider a fight to the bitter end.

This plan on its own might seem somewhat paranoid, but the reality is that the First World War had taken its toll and highlighted the risks of a confrontation with any other world power. The Red Plan was just one of many plans designated by colour codes to ensure preparedness for any possible circumstance.

In all the plans, the United States was always assigned the colour blue, whilst the other colours were used for the other powers. The Black Plan carried great weight, as it had to be refined as early as during the First World War, if Germany emerged victorious and was able to occupy positions close to the United States in the Caribbean. The most developed of all was the Orange Plan, which defined the strategy for war against Japan, and was partially implemented during the Second World War in the Pacific Ocean. The Indigo Plan, which assessed the occupation of Iceland, was fully implemented in 1941, although it was carried out solely to limit the advance of Nazi Germany and not to fight against the Icelanders.

The existing plans covered almost every possible scenario: Plan Grey considered action in the Caribbean and the Azores; Plan Gold, an open naval conflict against France; Plan Green described an attack on Mexico. There was even a White Plan that did not target any other power, but instead considered the possibility of an internal uprising on US soil. This plan was also partially implemented following the 1932 encampment of war veterans in Washington demanding their pay, during the Great Depression.

That said, despite all this preparatory work, the United States was not the only country prepared.

Defence Scheme No. 1: the Canadian response

North of the 49th parallel, Canada had also done its homework. Independence from the British Empire not only entailed the freedom to make its own decisions, but also came with the responsibility of being able to defend its territory once the British umbrella was no longer in place.

It was in this context that Defence Scheme No. 1 was born, a plan developed by Lieutenant Colonel James Brown, a war veteran who held the post of Director of Operations and Intelligence in the Canadian Army. Before making any theoretical assumptions, Brown took a camera and drove along part of the eastern border with the United States to better understand how border relations worked. His notes covered the terrain, but also described in detail the types of towns and inhabitants on the other side of the border.

With all the information gathered, alongside intelligence reports compiled over the years, Brown drew up a plan in 1921, almost a decade before the United States considered Canada an enemy worthy of a contingency plan.

Canada’s defence plan followed the logic of someone who knows they cannot win. Its army was insignificant compared to the US military, and its industry was too exposed just a few kilometres from the border. This made it essential to hold out against the initial onslaught long enough for support to arrive from other Commonwealth countries. And, as the saying goes, the best defence is a good offence.

Brown’s solution envisaged launching five simultaneous attacks on Portland, Fargo, Niagara Falls6, Albany and the state of Maine. These five attacks were intended to be dynamic in nature and were in no way intended to seize control of any city. Brown knew it was impossible to fight the US army head-on, but he could attempt to divide its forces so that it would take them longer to organise a ground invasion. Once the enemy army had deployed at each of these five points, Canadian troops would begin their withdrawal, ensuring that all bridges, railways, and means of transport were destroyed.

The plan was pushed aside in 1928, two years before the United States devised its Red Plan to invade Canada. The Chief of the General Staff, Andrew McNaughton, considered it dangerous to have such a plan to defend against an ally, as, if the strategy were exposed, it could cause a diplomatic crisis that would be difficult to manage.

The documents containing the details were burned, and only fragments were preserved. The only reason this plan came to light was because the United States declassified its Red Plan. This gave Canada the freedom to show that it had already devised a response even before the United States had even considered the possibility of attacking.

Epilogue

Reading these two plans today sends a shiver down the spine. The UN, NATO, the European Union and other supranational organisations were created to foster international cooperation and joint defence, but also as a mechanism to limit friction between neighbouring countries. In the West, we have spent decades growing accustomed to a non-aggression pact that made the need for such plans unthinkable, but reality has proven far more treacherous than we believed.

Having plans for everything, including the impossible, was not a strategy unique to Canada or the United States, but rather a common practice of any modern state. These plans do not speak of the likelihood of something happening, but of the need to be prepared so that surprise does not catch you off guard. In most cases, and certainly in the case of Plan Red and Defence Scheme No. 1, these contingency plans did not have the approval of heads of state. They were just internal military strategies in case it became necessary to implement them at some point.

These plans surely never disappeared completely; they were simply adapted to new circumstances. And, possibly, in past months these plans have been changing and adapting rapidly to the current times.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,200 in the catalogue.

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A few months ago, I came across a screenshot of Google Maps on TikTok1, which I want to use to begin the story I’m telling you today.

What do you think? Well, yes, on Google Maps, the Iberian Peninsula only has a 4.5 when it really deserves much more. And well, there’s also the curious fact that Google Maps has decided to include much of southern France as part of the Iberian Peninsula, you can check it out for yourselves2.

After that, I discussed the issue with quite a few people, but it became clear to me that there is no clear consensus. So I will dedicate today’s article to this topic, to continue the debate.

What is a peninsula?

If we want to determine the size of the Iberian Peninsula, the first thing we need to clarify is the definition of a peninsula. Let’s start with the definition from National Geographic:

A peninsula is a piece of land that is almost entirely surrounded by water but is connected to the mainland on one side.

Okay, more or less what everyone has in mind when they discuss peninsulas3: pieces of land surrounded by water that, unlike islands, are connected to another larger piece of land.

The definition in the Encyclopaedia Britannica is somewhat more detailed:

Peninsula, in physical geography, a piece of land that is nearly surrounded by water. The word is derived from the Latin paene (‘almost’) and insula (‘island’). In its original sense, it connotes attachment to a larger landmass by a neck of land (isthmus) narrower than the peninsula itself, but it is often extended to apply to any long promontory, the coastline of which is markedly longer than the landward boundary.

This definition is much more comprehensive than the previous one. It refers to the original meaning of the word, but also recognises that its use is widespread and accepted to refer to any promontory on the coast.

What matters most to me is that these definitions are consistent in focusing exclusively on the coastline. It is irrelevant whether there is another physical separation (such as the Pyrenees), whether there is a political separation (such as the border between France and Spain), or whether there is an underlying division of tectonic plates (such as the Iberian subplate from the rest of the Eurasian plate). If you look closely, three of the four reasons usually given for establishing the dividing line of the Iberian Peninsula in the Pyrenees do not apply. The fourth would be that it is the narrowest part of the isthmus.

But is this true? Here is an image with four possible lines that trace the narrowest point of the isthmus.

Without looking at Google Maps or doing any other research, which do you think is the shortest line? With the lines drawn, you probably already suspect that the answer is not the Pyrenees, but it is also not what I initially thought when I first explored the problem. Here is the length of each of these lines:

• Blue (Montpellier - Bordeaux): 423 kilometres.

• Red (Les Landes - Narbonne): 371 kilometres.

• Yellow (The Pyrenees): 417 kilometres.

• Green (Biarritz - Cambrils): 340 kilometres.

Knowing this, where would you prefer to draw the dividing line on the Iberian Peninsula?

On a historical-comic note, the Visigothic kingdom of Toulouse and Theodoric I would surely have voted for blue.

A cultural matter

Beyond the abstract game of finding the minimum width of the isthmus, the reality is that the result is irrelevant.

The definition of a peninsula is vague enough to allow us to establish the boundaries that suit us best. The cultural weight is undeniable, and it makes perfect sense that historically we have chosen to associate the idea of the Iberian Peninsula with a border that has remained almost intact for more than five centuries. A border that also has one of the most important mountain ranges in Europe and, if we want to be pedantic, also has a division below the Earth’s crust in the form of the Iberian subplate. As I said at the beginning, none of these ideas defines the idea of a peninsula as such, but they certainly simplify the concept considerably.

The case of the Iberian Peninsula is not unique. There are many examples within Europe, such as the Italian Peninsula. It is generally accepted that the Italian Peninsula is composed of the entire continental territory of Italy, excluding Sardinia, Sicily and the other islands. This is not governed by the minimum size isthmus we have been looking for, but as in the case of the Iberian Peninsula, it coincides with a mountain range (the Alps) and a political border (that of Italy after the Second World War).

It is much more complicated to explain why we commonly refer to the Balkans as the Balkan Peninsula. We can say that there is indeed a protrusion and that, in a way, it is mainly surrounded by water: the Adriatic, Mediterranean, Aegean, and Black Seas4. In this case, unlike the Iberian Peninsula, there is no isthmus that is narrower, as the peninsula widens continuously as it approaches Central Europe. Perhaps this is why the Encyclopaedia Britannica clarifies that the definition of a peninsula has been relaxed to include any large promontory.

If we are being pedantic, this problem exists with many peninsulas in the world, possibly the majority. Does the Korean peninsula include the entire territory of the two Koreas? Where is the border of Indochina? Does the border of the Arabian Peninsula correspond to the border of Saudi Arabia? What percentage of the state of Florida is within the Florida peninsula? Well-defined peninsulas are in the minority, although they do exist. There are some that are well-defined, separated by isthmuses that are narrow and distinct enough that there is no room for doubt, although only three come to mind: Valdés Peninsula (in Argentina), Paraguaná Peninsula (in Venezuela), Peloponnese Peninsula (in Greece).

Also, a matter of perspective

One of the most interesting comments I came across when I first discussed this topic was something as simple as changing the perspective of the map. This allows us to see the Iberian Peninsula in an unusual way, which makes it much easier to visualise the problem at hand. I took the idea and brought you a screenshot from Google Earth so that the borders don’t appear. Moreover, I drew a curious line that would define the Iberian Peninsula as a promontory of the line connecting the coast of Brittany with Marseille.

Perspective, together with cultural consensus, can end up being everything. The classic example is the definition of Europe as a continent. If we stick to the geographical definitions of peninsula and continent5, Europe would be nothing more than a peninsula in the western part of the great continent of Eurasia. Furthermore, that large peninsula would not include Scandinavia, which would be another peninsula of the great Eurasian continent.

This perspective, which seems far-fetched, was exploited during the Cold War by American propaganda to raise awareness in Europe of the Soviet threat. Robert M. Chapin published two maps in Time magazine in 1952 showing the Soviet Union’s advance in the world and how Europe and South Asia were being trapped by the communist giant. If this campaign had used the usual maps, the perspective would have prevented it from having the impact that it did with its two maps. In both maps, the Soviet Union is shown at the bottom, and all the ‘threatened’ territory at the top, as if it were cornered.

Beyond propaganda and questioning Europe’s status as a continent, this type of perspective can also serve to better understand the world we live in. The Soviet threat, as caricatured by Chapin, never materialised, but this same perspective made it easier to explain the great energy dependence that much of Europe had (and still has) on Russia. It was not a whim, but the reality that there was a vast territory, with vast resources, which has been providing energy for decades to a small Europe lacking in resources of its own.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,200 in the catalogue.

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Lately, the pace of news and events has been increasing at a dizzying rate. As I mentioned last month, it seemed that the year had started off with a bang, but the second month has been even more eventful. And not necessarily in the most positive way possible.

Be that as it may, let’s begin with the new edition of maps of the month. Here is a list of what you will find in it today:

• The United States and Israel attack Iran

• Iran’s response

• Disruption of international air traffic

• Pakistan attacks Afghanistan

• The Jalisco New Generation Cartel

• Map of Mexican cartels

• Panoramic view of Cortina d’Ampezzo

• Population density in the European Union

• Equatorial Guinea is not on the equator

• The CIA’s World Factbook closes

• Tintin’s Australia

The United States and Israel attack Iran

Perhaps the most surprising news of the month came on the very last day. On 28 February, the United States and Israel decided to attack Iran once again, as Israel did on 13 June. This time it was more than a surgical operation, like Israel’s last June, and sought to attack the Iranian regime directly, including military and political structures. The map shows the confirmed and reported attacks during the first day with red dots. Now the attacks are much more numerous.

I insist on what I have said before: no matter how you look at it, this is once again a violation of international law. Independently of how despicable Ali Khamenei and his way of governing Iran may be, international law does not allow this type of interference. The worst thing is that our current leaders1 are getting us used to this type of action. But if they succeed in normalising it, one day it could affect us more closely than we can imagine.

Incidentally, once again Trump has embarked on this adventure without the approval of the US Congress.

Iran’s response

As expected, Iran has not hesitated to respond and attack Israel and all US positions in the region. Less than three days have passed since the escalation of violence began, so we are completely unaware of the full extent of Iran’s actions in the Middle East. What we do know is that at least three civilians have been killed in Dubai by debris from intercepted Iranian drones, prompting a warning from the United Arab Emirates that it could retaliate against Iran.

The map shows the attacks that had been confirmed on the evening of the 28th with blue dots. Two days later, Iran’s retaliation has also spread to Oman and Cyprus, the latter in retaliation against the United Kingdom for its support of the United States and Israel.

The United States and Israel’s attacks on Iran continue at this time, despite the confirmed death of Ayatollah Khamenei. Iran’s responses also continue. Yesterday, Trump claimed that there are already successors willing to negotiate an end to the missile exchange, but today the successors have openly said that they are not really interested. And yes, hopefully the hostilities will stop soon. But at this point, I can’t help but wonder what the next target will be, where international law will not matter in the slightest.

Disruption of international air traffic

As is often the case in these circumstances, international traffic has been completely disrupted. The map above is a screenshot from Flight Radar2 taken a few hours after the Israeli and US bombings of Iran. It clearly shows how Iran had closed its airspace, forcing airlines still flying over Iran to take other routes.

But a day later, with Iran’s response, the disruption to airspace is even greater. Three of the world’s major international airports, connecting Asia with Europe, were closed: Doha, Dubai and Abu Dhabi.

You can see yesterday’s map above. The closure of Iran’s airspace is compounded by air traffic restrictions in the Middle East. On top of all this, there are the restrictions that already existed, such as the closure of Ukrainian airspace and the fact that almost no European airlines are allowed to fly over Russia.

The result: an aircraft corridor has been created across the Caucasus, flying over one of the most unstable regions in recent decades. Who would have imagined this 20 years ago? Certainly, not me.

That said, I admit that I am now rethinking the holiday I had planned to Asia in the second half of the year. I am a little reluctant to experience this instability first-hand.

Pakistan attacks Afghanistan

As if all this were not enough, we continue to see more conflicts escalating. With the pace of events, it seems like weeks ago, but only three days have passed. On 27 February, Pakistan launched a series of air strikes against Afghanistan and, after decades of continuous clashes, finally declared open war.

This conflict, to put it simply, has its origins in the British colonial era and the drawing of the Durand Line in 1893. That line was simply intended to mark the boundary of British colonial influence, but it is a border that has crystallised over more than 100 years as the border separating Pakistan from Afghanistan. The problem? Well, as the map above shows, this border divides the Pashtun people in two, which is why Afghanistan has never recognised it.

On this interactive website, you can follow the escalating events and the actions being taken by both Afghans and Pakistanis. I would like to believe that this will be short-lived and that everything will soon return to normal, but the concern is that normality along that border has been conflict for decades.

The Jalisco New Generation Cartel

The map above was published by InSight Crime and shows the area of operation of the Jalisco New Generation Cartel, one of the most important cartels in Mexico lately, thanks in part to the leadership of El Mencho. His influence was such that the United States had him listed as one of the main culprits of the fentanyl crisis, for which there was a $15 million bounty on his head.

With this context, it should not be surprising that a week ago, on 22 February, in an operation led by the Mexican government with the cooperation of US intelligence, El Mencho was killed. What few expected was the worrying wave of violence that broke out in the days that followed, as this left a significant power vacuum in a country, Mexico, where cartels still wield considerable influence.

Map of Mexican cartels

While we are on the subject of Mexican cartels, I would like to share this interesting map that published a couple of years ago in his newsletter. It shows the main Mexican cartels and their main areas of influence. Among them, the main cartels stand out, such as Sinaloa (in red), Jalisco Nueva Generación (in blue) and the Juárez Cartel (in yellow).

Of course, many of these cartels have disputed areas and do not have the same level of hegemony in all of them. As if that were not enough, it is also important to understand that this is a very changing context and, worst of all, a tremendously violent one. Since 2007, when Mexico reached its lowest homicide rate, with 8 deaths per 100,000 inhabitants, this number has only grown, remaining above 25 homicides per 100,000 inhabitants since 20173.

That’s a shocking 25,000 people a year.

Panoramic view of Cortina d’Ampezzo

Changing the subject slightly, I also bring you this interesting panoramic map of Cortina d’Ampezzo, one of the venues for the Winter Olympics held this February. I saw the map on ’s newsletter and I think it’s absolutely wonderful.

This beautiful panoramic image combines the local geography with a colour-coded map of the means of transport and the different ski slopes available at this resort. This resort alone has more than 120 kilometres of skiable terrain, but the Dolomites, where Cortina is located, have more than 1,200 kilometres of skiable terrain within relatively short distances.

Population density in the European Union

You may be surprised that I am showing you a map of population density in the European Union4, as these maps are often extremely hackneyed, but this one is highly recommended. It is an interactive map that I first came across last month, and I spent a good while browsing it.

I particularly like its level of granularity, allowing you to see the population in each square kilometre of Europe. Thanks to this, you can see the large empty spaces in Spain, Scandinavia, and the Alps, where there are many continuous square kilometres of white space, as they are not inhabited by anyone at all.

Equatorial Guinea is not on the equator

This map is one of those that lead you to think that you have been fooled.

As you can see on the map, there are only 13 countries in the world that are crossed by the equator: Ecuador, Colombia, Brazil, São Tomé and Príncipe, Gabon, Republic of the Congo, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Uganda, Kenya, Somalia, Maldives, Indonesia, and Kiribati5.

Do you notice anything peculiar about this list? That’s right, Equatorial Guinea is not on the equator. In fact, it is located completely north of the equator.

Yes, you have probably been fooled too. I was definitely not aware.

The CIA’s World Factbook closes

Although I said I didn’t want any more negative news, I think it’s worth mentioning this news item that I read a few days ago in ’s newsletter: The World Factbook has closed.

The World Factbook, published by the CIA, has been a global reference for basic data on countries and territories for decades. Public versions have been available since 1971, and since 2000, its information has been available on the Internet. For all geography lovers, it was a recognised place to consult and validate data consistently, without the need to search for data published individually by each country.

On 4 February, without prior notice, the official website was taken down with a brief statement saying that the project had ended. With this, a regularly updated source that could be used as a reference by researchers, journalists, and students is gone. Past data can still be consulted on the CIA website or even on the Internet Archive, but that does not solve the big problem: we will not have data for 2026 or any future years.

Tintin’s Australia

For the last map, I’m bringing one that makes me smile.

The author, Andrew ‘TmsT’ Kepple, says that he had always seen a dog’s head in the western part of Australia. A few days ago, he realised that the eastern part of Australia could also correspond to another silhouette, giving form to this lovely drawing of Tintin and Snowy, his dog.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,200 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

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Propaganda, in its broadest sense, is a fundamental piece of understanding history. Some believe that its use is limited to authoritarian regimes, as was the case with Nazi Germany, while others believe that it is something that emerged with the great wars of the 20th century. The reality is that we have had propaganda at least since we have had mechanisms for writing down the transmission of information, as the history of the Battle of Kadesh shows.

Today’s example focuses on the United States and how propaganda was used intensively in the first half of the 20th century. Mainly, to raise awareness among the population about the international situation and the role that the United States had to play in the First and Second World Wars. All of this was accompanied by some wonderful maps that were used during that period to spread a narrative in favour of warmongering.

The aftermath of the First World War

American society did not want to enter the First World War. The conflict in distant Europe was of no tangible interest to citizens, as it had little to do with their everyday problems. The media did try to report on what was happening on the old continent, and even managed to get some events on the front page and into the conversation of the elites. In 1914, there was much talk of how Germany had decided to invade and massacre Belgium, a friendly country, in an overwhelming and inhumane manner. In 1915, the most impactful news story was the sinking of the RMS Lusitania by a German submarine, killing more than 1,200 people, including 128 Americans.

It is common to read that the sinking of the RMS Lusitania was key to the United States’ intervention in the war. However, the reality is that it took a lot for the government to get the population on its side. Propaganda in the media became increasingly evident, talking about the cruelty of the German Empire and how France and England were resisting badly in the face of pressure. But the discourse continued to fail in the basics: the war was on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, too far away for any citizen to choose to sacrifice anything. It is in this context that, throughout 1916, more direct propaganda began to appear, such as this magnificent cover of Life magazine.

This map does speak to something that may matter to society. It speaks of a possible future in which the enemies of the United States managed to conquer the entire territory, creating the state of New Prussia and relegating US citizens to a small reservation in the state of New Mexico. The cover also suggests the possibility that Japan, as one of the United States’ main enemies, could end up taking over the entire West Coast. Entirely ignoring the fact that, if the country entered the war, both countries would be fighting on the same side.

Finally, the United States declared war on Germany in April 1917, using the Zimmermann Telegram, a communiqué leaked by British intelligence in which Germany proposed an alliance with Mexico. As public support was still very weak, the government was forced to create the Committee on Public Information, a government agency to control public opinion. In other words, it was a propaganda ministry, although Woodrow Wilson, President of the United States, repeatedly stated that it had nothing to do with the propaganda of other authoritarian states such as Germany1.

The interwar period

The Committee on Public Information remained in place until the end of the war, but had to be disbanded shortly afterwards, as the public and the media repeatedly expressed their dissatisfaction with it. In fact, this interference by the state had a profound impact on American society over the following two decades. It perpetuated a certain desire for neutrality that would keep the country away from the problems and disputes of other parts of the world. Interestingly, this quest for neutrality fought so hard for freedom of expression and against censorship that the United States soon found itself with enemies within its own territory.

All kinds of ideologies that were spreading across Europe were quickly reflected in American society. One of the most remarkable examples was the emergence of Friends of New Germany, an association affiliated with the German Nazi party. It was founded in 1933 with the aim of promoting sympathy for Adolf Hitler and Nazism as his authoritarian position was being consolidated in Europe2. At the same time, and partly in response to the spread of these ideologies, there were also many organisations and media outlets that attacked the discourse through propaganda. A notable example is the following map by Howard Burke, which appeared on the front page of the Los Angeles Examiner newspaper in November 1937.

Since the beginning of the 20th century, tension between the Empire of Japan and the United States had only grown. On the one hand, there were US interests in Asia; on the other, Japanese expansionism was taking control of China and, as a result, monopolising all commercial opportunities in the region3. In the mid-1930s, many European countries viewed Italian fascism, Soviet communism and German Nazism with suspicion, but in the United States, the real arch-enemy was Japan and the Japanese. And that is precisely what Burke’s map reflects, as it explores the multiple routes the Japanese army could take to attack the country directly.

Four years before Pearl Harbor, Burke correctly identified the base as the main target, but he failed in his subsequent predictions. He predicted the destruction of the entire Pacific fleet in the attack on Hawaii, after which he assumed that the Japanese navy would reach San Francisco via Alaska, destroying the city. At the same time, another mission would arrive from Hawaii to Los Angeles and San Diego, taking both cities and thus opening the door to a land invasion.

All this level of detail is not accidental; it is key to effective propaganda. When a message seeks to reinforce itself, it is enough to speak in vague terms, since a convinced person does not need much to perpetuate their position. On the other hand, if you want to win supporters for the cause, you require plenty of details to make the threat feel real. With pieces such as this map, or the thousands of books, newspapers, novels, comics, and films that promulgated the yellow peril4, rejection and racism against the Japanese became deeply entrenched among the citizens of the United States.

The United States’ entry into World War II

In September 1939, Germany invaded Poland, thus beginning World War II. As had happened twenty-five years earlier, the United States chose to remain neutral in the conflict. Despite growing tension and multiple propaganda campaigns from foreign agents, society still felt alien to any kind of intervention. Memories of the First World War were still fresh, and this time it was going to be much more difficult to gain the support of the population.

Even so, the government, which had so strongly promoted freedom of expression, had been operating a de facto censorship system since 1937, in collaboration with the library system. This was to identify and limit the dissemination of ideas classified as anti-democratic, such as communism or Nazism. This allowed other positions to emerge without any counterpoint as the de facto narrative in American society. Richard Edes Harrison was the cartographer who knew how to take full advantage of this position, with multiple maps that have gone down in history for their great impact, but also for their magnificent artistic quality.

This first map by Harrison was published as part of his 1940 book, Atlas For The U.S. Citizen. It shows the United States from a bird's-eye view from three different points, each simulating the possible ways in which the country could be attacked: from Berlin, with the German army entering through Newfoundland; from Tokyo, with the Japanese Empire entering via the West Coast; and from Caracas, with any enemy that had taken South America at the forefront.

The intention was clear: the world was at war, and friendly countries were suffering defeats in Europe and Asia. American citizens, to whom the atlas was addressed, had to be made aware that inaction would ultimately have consequences. And those consequences were made tangible and detailed once again on a map.

This second map by Harrison is perhaps the best known of all. It was published by Fortune magazine in 1941 and shows the world divided during the Second World War. The way the information is presented on this map is magnificent, as the polar projection modifies the perception of distance between the United States and the rest of the world. But to understand the superb propaganda weight of this map, in favour of the United States taking an active part in the war, it is critical to review the dates and content of the map.

The author uses different colours to represent the situation, but to simplify5, we will focus only on red, which shows the Allied countries, and black, which shows the Axis countries. The map was published in August 1941, but Germany had already broken the non-aggression pact with the Soviet Union after launching Operation Barbarossa in December 1940. Even so, the map still shows the USSR as if it were part of the Axis, which helps to give weight to the black colour on the map and thus increase the sense of threat and the urgency to act. On the other hand, if we look at the United States, it appears in red, as if it were already part of the Allied forces. But the attack on Pearl Harbor, and the subsequent US entry into the war, would not happen until December 1941. Harrison no longer thought about neutrality and directly showed who were the friends and who were the enemies in the war, even though the US public and government still did not want to be involved.

Finally, on 7 December, the United States entered the war, and just twelve days later, the Office of Censorship was created, which set in motion the government’s propaganda machine. A few months later, this would be complemented by the Office of War Information, established in mid-1942. In this new context, and now with the official backing of the administration, Harrison published a new version of his popular 1941 map.

Analysing the differences between the two maps helps to understand the radical change in the message of American propaganda after the country entered the war. The first map was titled ‘A Divided World’ and made constant references to the danger and catastrophe that non-intervention could bring. The second map changes the title to ‘One World, One War,’ thus supporting the idea of unity. In turn, the colour of the Soviet Union has been corrected, and the weight of the red colour is overwhelming, which attempts to bring a halo of hope among Americans.

This was something very necessary to think that the end of the war is near and that all sacrifice would not be in vain.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,200 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

If you like what you read, don’t hesitate to subscribe to receive an email with each new article that is published.

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This is an easy question to ask and a fairly common one. At the same time, it is a rather difficult question to answer. Currently, with our well-defined borders, it seems surprising that there is no clear consensus on how many countries there are in the world, but the reality is that there isn’t. However, just because there is no context does not mean that we cannot talk about it and understand how we can arrive at different figures which, depending on the criteria we take into account, can be considered true.

Before we continue, would you be able to give me an estimate?1

Before we start counting, we need to define what we are going to count. Definition and terminology are a real minefield, so allow me to equate country with sovereign state, and stick to the definition established in the 1933 Montevideo Convention2:

The state as a person of international law should possess the following qualifications:

1. A permanent population.

2. A defined territory.

3. Government.

4. Capacity to enter into relations with the other states.

— Article 1 of the Montevideo Convention on the Rights and Duties of States

The idea seems simple: a defined territory, where people live permanently, and which is ruled by a government. To this, we need only add that a country must have the capacity to enter into relations with other countries… and this is where all the problems arise. International relations are extraordinarily complex, and the recognition of countries is not something that can be taken for granted.

With that in mind, let’s explore the possible answers.

How many countries are there according to the UN?

The United Nations was created with the signing of 51 sovereign states in June 1945. The aim, among other things, was to promote international cooperation and prevent another world war like the two that had devastated much of the world in the first half of the 20th century. These were the signatory countries.

Although only 80 years have passed, the world in 1945 was very different from today’s world. In the map above, the founding members of the UN are shown in blue, including almost all of America and the Middle East, part of Europe and some countries in other parts of the world. The countries that were not initially part of the UN are shown in yellow, including the countries defeated in the Second World War and others that did not sign up for various reasons.

The other colours? Well, in one way or another, they show the territories that were still colonies or dependent on other countries. The most curious case is that of India, which was the only founding member while still a colony dependent on the United Kingdom.

However, over time, the nations that had not joined the UN at first joined. As the colonies gained their independence and this was recognised, they were also accepted as members of the supranational organisation.

There were several key moments in this expansion. In 1955, many of the European countries that had initially been left out joined. Between 1960 and 1962, most of the newly independent countries in Africa joined, bringing the total number of countries to over 100. Growth was sustained until the 1990s, when the break-up of the Soviet Union and Yugoslavia gave rise to many countries that also chose to join the United Nations.

Interestingly, Switzerland did not sign up until 2002, just a few days before East Timor. After them, only Montenegro joined in 2006 and South Sudan, the last country to declare its independence, in 2011. In total, the United Nations currently has 193 full members, so here we have our first number, although it is better to take it as an approximation.

As shown on the map above, in addition to the 193 full members, the UN also has two observers, Palestine and Vatican City, bringing the number to 195 countries. If you look closely, you will also see on the map that Western Sahara and Kosovo are shown in grey. Neither is a member of the UN, despite having attempted to join the organisation, so we can raise the number to 197 countries.

The ongoing conflict between China and Taiwan is also an important consideration. Until 1971, Taiwan was a member of the United Nations, but its seat was transferred to China in the face of growing international recognition of the country, leaving Taiwan out of the organisation. Despite multiple attempts to rejoin, it has been vetoed at every turn by China, which does not detract from the fact that it is a territory with a permanent population, a government and certain international relations.

We can leave the figure at 198 for now. But since we have opened the can of worms that is international recognition, we will take a deep dive into it.

Recognition and international relations

Of the 198 countries that cover the entire territory of the planet, how many do you think enjoy international recognition by the rest of the countries? Well, only 188 are recognised by all UN members. The others lack some form of recognition:

• China: 1813

• Taiwan: 11

• Israel: 1664

• Palestine: 1575

• Kosovo: 1106

• Western Sahara: 467

• North Korea: 191 (all except South Korea)8

• South Korea: 191 (all except North Korea)

• Cyprus: 191 (all except Turkey)

• Armenia: 191 (all except Pakistan)9

But I love to dig into the complicated face of everything, so let’s keep going. So far, we have discussed de jure recognition, which refers to legal recognition. In other words, according to the UN, these are the countries and their international recognition, but the reality is much more complex.

If we include de facto countries, those that, although they do not enjoy international recognition, do operate as independent countries, we can add another handful of examples to the list:

• Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, a territory belonging to Cyprus but recognised as a sovereign state by Turkey. It declared its unilateral independence with the support of Turkey on 15 November 1983.

• South Ossetia, a territory belonging to Georgia, is internationally recognised by five UN members, including Russia, Nicaragua, and Venezuela. It declared its independence unilaterally on 8 November 1991.

• Abkhazia, a territory belonging to Georgia, internationally recognised by five UN members, including Russia, Nicaragua, and Venezuela. It declared its independence after the end of the Abkhazian War in 1993.

• Transnistria, a territory belonging to Moldova, not recognised by any UN member, but recognised by other countries such as South Ossetia and Abkhazia. It declared its independence unilaterally on 2 September 1990.

• Republic of Artsakh, a territory belonging to Azerbaijan, not recognised by any UN member state, but recognised by other countries such as South Ossetia and Abkhazia. It declared its independence unilaterally on 6 January 1992.

• Somaliland, a territory belonging to Somalia, recently gained international recognition from one UN country, Israel10. It unilaterally declared its independence on 18 May 1991¹¹.

With these six countries, we can bring the total up to 204, but we can go even further. There are many countries that operate de facto independently, even though they do not openly declare their interest in being considered independent countries. This group includes Rojava, the Wa State, the Gaza Strip, Bougainville and Puntland.

The matter can become even more complicated if we begin to investigate the territorial integrity of different countries and how some autonomous regions enjoy different levels of independence. We have extreme examples, such as the Cook Islands and Niue, two territories belonging to New Zealand, but which have independent international relations with dozens of UN countries and are even full members of UNESCO or the World Health Organisation.

If we look at international organisations with less political weight, such as the International Federation of Association Football (FIFA), we also find constituent countries of states. These include the constituent countries of the United Kingdom (Wales, England, Scotland, and Northern Ireland) and Denmark (Denmark, Greenland, and the Faroe Islands), but we also find the associated or overseas territories of the United Kingdom, the Netherlands, France, and the United States.

Considering the different levels of independence and autonomous participation in international organisations, we can consider some 60 more territories with defined borders, a stable population, a government, and some level of international relations.

Adding it all up, we can go from 198 countries to about 270. And all this without mentioning the independence movements with varying degrees of support that are spread throughout the world, since in those cases, we cannot say that they have a stable population and territory.

One last twist? There is also the idea of micronations, which are countries constituted on a minimal, or even imaginary, territory, with a small population and without any recognition by other states. The most iconic example of this type of country is possibly Sealand, but if we look, we can find another 50 examples.

So how many countries, then?

As you probably know by now, there is no single correct answer. But if we go back to the survey at the beginning, we can say with some level of certainty that the most widely accepted number is between 180 and 220.

Now that we are on the subject, to keep you entertained for a while, I’m going to leave here the link to a game to see how good you are at naming the 197 countries11. You’ll have to do it in 15 minutes, which is more than enough time if you have them all memorised.

Once you've taken the quiz, let me know how you did.

Since this is about maps, I’ll also leave you with a list of the 198 countries and the maps you can find for each one in the catalogue. Because yes, I’ve managed to get at least one map for each of those countries.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,100 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

If you like what you read, don’t hesitate to subscribe to receive an email with each new article that is published.

Subscribe now

Leonardo da Vinci is one of the most iconic figures of the Italian Renaissance. He created one of the most recognisable works in the history of art, La Gioconda, the portrait of Lisa Gherardini about which thousands of pages have been written, not all of them with the same basis1. It is curious that, even though only 17 of his paintings have been preserved2, this is usually the best-known facet of Leonardo. Or perhaps it is not so curious if we stop to look closely at other works, such as The Last Supper.

Personally, I am much more fascinated by his work as a scientist and inventor. He was one of the first people in history to approach the study of science from an observational and experimental perspective. This allowed him to study the world around him in detail and, using his great artistic ability, to capture it all in many illustrated manuscripts.

His anatomical studies were meticulous, including the drawing of bones, muscles, organs, and even the circulatory system in great detail. Among his inventions and technological developments, he conceptualised many pioneering ideas, such as various flying machines, weapons of war, hydraulic systems and meteorological measurement systems. He also developed theoretical knowledge in the fields of optics, geology, and botany.

You will have read about all this many times. But with such an extensive professional resume, it is perhaps not surprising that there are aspects of his life that are not commonly discussed. So, naturally, today I will focus on his exceptional skills as a mapmaker.

Leonardo da Vinci, the cartographer

It is difficult to pinpoint the moment when Leonardo discovered his interest in geography and the representation of territory on maps3. Perhaps there was no turning point as such, but rather a growing interest like many others in the life of such a curious and productive person. What does seem to have played an important role was the fact that he was born in Tuscany, in Vinci4, and that his family moved to Florence during his childhood in the 1460s. At that time, Paolo dal Pozzo Toscanelli, a scholar who devoted much of his time to understanding perspective, was living there, which may have influenced Leonardo in his work on perspective. Yes, the same Toscanelli who drew the map that partly motivated Christopher Columbus’s voyage.

One of Leonardo’s earliest known landscapes, that of the Arno River valley in Tuscany, already wonderfully combines his understanding of perspective, his interest in the geography of his surroundings, and his skills to represent it on paper.

If we continue searching among his early drawings on the subject of perspective, compiled in the Codex Atlanticus, we find this one from 1480. Leonardo da Vinci could have chosen a more artistic object, such as a statue, or a large building, such as a cathedral, with which the idea of perspective would have been much more intuitive. Instead, he opted for an armillary sphere, an object closely linked to geography since ancient times, generally used to represent the cosmos from an earthly perspective. Although it could also be used to show the Earth’s surface, as if it were a globe.

It is essential to bear in mind that, in the second half of the 15th century, maps were mainly portolan charts used by sailors to understand the routes they had to navigate to travel between two points. Or sketches of inhabited places to divide the lands belonging to each ruler. There were some world maps, but most of them were limited to conceptual maps, such as those of T and O maps, or replicas of the world as described by Ptolemy.

Leonardo never wrote a treatise on geography, as Ptolemy did, but his understanding of the territory and the importance of finding effective ways to represent it was far ahead of his contemporaries. I could simply leave you with his collection of maps, and I guarantee you would be fascinated by their beauty. Instead, I am going to limit myself to just three and use them to illustrate how he achieved three crucial advances in the early 16th century that are fundamental to understanding the history of geography.

The map of Imola

During the Middle Ages, cities were mainly represented from a bird's-eye view. Cities had become complex settlements in which importance lay mainly in the buildings that rose above the ground, rather than in the roads and streets that were not represented. Sketches did exist, but these were only used when the relevant thing was to show the way forward, not if the aim was to represent the city as a whole.

These essentially artistic works gained popularity at the end of the 15th century and remained the main way of representing cities for more than two centuries. However, this type of urban plan had a fundamental problem: it represented the uniqueness of the different buildings at the expense of casting shadows on existing streets. In some cases, the perspective was forced to make the existence of a street clear. An example of this can be seen in the fabulous map of Madrid drawn by Teixeira in 1656.

More than a century and a half before Teixeira’s map was published, Leonardo da Vinci had already provided a solution to these limitations. In 1502, Leonardo was working for the House of Borgia as their private architect. They asked him to find out all the available details about the city of Imola, on the outskirts of Bologna, which led Leonardo to create a map of the city.

As we have already seen, Leonardo was a particular person, so he was determined to do the best job possible. He travelled to Imola and walked all the streets, taking detailed measurements of all the buildings, the size of their facades, the layout of the streets and the angles of the intersections. As a result, he drew the first map of a city with a satellite view, with all elements in proportion, and even detailing minor problems with the alignment of the facades.

Despite the value of Leonardo’s innovation in representing cities on maps, this practice was used very sporadically until the late 17th and early 18th centuries. This was partly because urban planning was not a priority for leaders until the late 18th century. Until industrialisation radically changed cities and their inhabitants, mayors were only concerned with ensuring that the city was well protected and that there was a sufficient supply of water5.

Relief on a map

The map of Imola already hints at the second major innovation that Leonardo da Vinci brought to cartography. If we look closely at the territory surrounding Imola, we can see slight changes in colour intensity. Intuitively, we might understand this to be simply an issue of conservation in a work that is more than 500 years old. This would be true, except that the areas with more intense colours correspond precisely to the highest points in the territory represented.

Leonardo also introduced the use of different colour intensities to represent the elevation of the terrain without resorting to bird’s-eye views. This map, which describes the course of the Arno River in central Italy, is perhaps the best example of this concept.

Just by knowing that the darker colours represent the highest points, we can easily tell where the mountain ranges are located. Moreover, it’s possible to identify the valleys through which the different rivers flow, as well as how steep the slopes of the different mountains are.

The use of colours was not limited to overhead maps; Leonardo also used them in bird’s-eye view maps depicting different regions of Tuscany for the House of Borgia. The combination of colour coding and the use of shadows in perspective makes these maps particularly powerful in representing relief. Possibly more effectively than any other cartographer up to that point. I would even go so far as to say that no one surpassed him in this regard in the following two centuries.

Leonardo da Vinci’s world map

Like anyone with an interest in geography who lived during the Age of Discovery, Leonardo was also interested in the shape of the world. Despite this, he is not usually recognised as the author of any significant world map, partly because he did not author any world map that marked a turning point, as other world maps of the 16th century did.

Nevertheless, among his papers, this fabulous representation of the world divided into eight circular triangles of equal size was found.

This map went completely unnoticed until it was first documented by Richard Henry Major. Major was a geographer and map curator who worked for 36 years as curator of the British Museum’s map collection, from 1844 to 1880. In 1865, he published an article about this map, in which he claimed that its author was Leonardo da Vinci and that it was the first map to refer to America6.

This claim has been the subject of much debate among scholars of cartography and Leonardo’s life. There has never been a consensus, but the evidence that has been provided over the years tips the balance in favour of Leonardo’s authorship7. Among other things, as Christopher Tyler8 states, there are references to this projection and this map in other plates compiled in the Codex Atlanticus, whose authorship is not doubted by any academic.

The map is usually dated to around 1514, as it makes direct reference to Florida, which was discovered by Ponce de León in 1513, but it is represented as an island, Terra Florida, a confusion that lasted for a very limited time.

Interestingly, the map also correctly depicts the North Pole as a large body of water and the South Pole as a large land mass, corresponding to the Arctic Ocean and Antarctica. Despite getting these two aspects right, both estimates were entirely coincidental, as at the beginning of the 16th century we were far from really knowing the poles.

What does seem reliable is all the information included on his map about Asia, where he shows India, Indochina, Japan, and even the eastern tip of Russia in considerable detail and with reasonable accuracy, all in acceptable proportions. This indicates that he may have had access to information about the explorations of various sailors, either directly or indirectly.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,100 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

If you like what you read, don’t hesitate to subscribe to receive an email with each new article that is published.

Subscribe now

This year, as a new feature in the newsletter, I have decided to include a monthly edition in which I will include the most interesting maps or articles I have come across during that month. I will also bring some maps and articles that I had in reserve and that may be relevant to that particular month.

Another important thing to mention1: a couple of days ago was my birthday. And this is just relevant to understand the last map of the list, a special gift from my little niece. Don’t miss it.

Without further ado, here is a list of what you will find in this edition:

• The United States’ attack on Venezuela

• The international response to the United States’ attack on Venezuela

• The US threat to Greenland

• The Danish response to the United States

• Why is Greenland important?

• New map of Antarctica under the ice

• The Flood of Villa de Guadalupe (1819)

• Piltover, the city of progress

• The largest map in the world

• The awakening of the Europeans

• The mythological monsters of the United States

• A very special birthday present

The US attack on Venezuela

2026 has started with a bang. At the end of last year, the United States significantly increased its presence in the Caribbean, which was used to attack alleged drug traffickers’ boats. To be honest, I was convinced that this would remain a dubiously legitimate form of pressure from the United States to get Maduro’s government to change direction. But once again, I was wrong2.

The United States launched a surgical strike on Venezuela, as shown in the map above. On 2 January, at around 11 p.m., Trump approved the attack on Venezuela. In less than an hour, several locations in Venezuela, mainly related to the army, were bombed, and special forces managed to reach Nicolás Maduro’s residence and arrest him and his wife. This was just two hours and fifteen minutes after Trump approved the operation.

This, however you look at it, is a violation of international law. The only difference between this and the Russian invasion of Ukraine is that Putin was much more clumsy and did not achieve his objective in the first few days, as he had planned. Whether Maduro is a good or bad leader, a bad or terrible ruler, international law does not allow this type of interference. One does not justify the other.

The international response to the US attack on Venezuela

In the days following the attack, many countries publicly stated their views on Trump’s actions in Venezuela. This map clearly shows the division of opinion around the world. Some countries have openly applauded the US attack and the kidnapping of Nicolás Maduro. Others have condemned the US attack as a violation of international law, and others have done so while also condemning Maduro as a bad leader for Venezuela.

It is also easy to see at a glance that almost all the countries that have openly supported the US actions are countries governed by the right or the far right. In a way, these leaders have considered that the existence of a terrible left-wing3 ruler justifies this intervention. The same pattern can be observed in reverse, although much more moderately: criticism of the attack comes from left-wing governments, but also from centrist governments and even some right-wing governments.

Some interpret the responses of certain countries as the result of fear or an interest in aligning themselves with the United States and benefiting from possible future trade agreements. It is clear that we are living in fragile times, so it is important to choose our steps carefully.

The US threat to Greenland

We must not forget that we are in the age of social media and memes. Now anyone can go online and use AI to quickly generate a meme to express their position. And this image you see above is the work of Katie Miller, an American political advisor who was part of Trump’s first administration and was spokesperson for the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE). Yes, the one led by Elon Musk.

The image speaks for itself. It does not seek an in-depth analysis, or even a far-fetched justification. It simply calls for controversy; it is pure propaganda that seeks to generate tension and, with luck, gain a handful of support in the face of the reaction against Americans that the image may generate.

All this would have come to nothing if it weren’t for Trump’s insistence that Greenland is a target for his administration and that he intends to gain control of it no matter what.

Here I need to leave you with a curious detail that has been bothering me for a few weeks: Trump is fascinated by maps. In other words, I share a hobby with Donald Trump, no less. And there is a possibility that Mercator is indirectly to blame for the whole mess with Greenland. You can read about it in this article by Susan B. Glasser in the New Yorker, but I will leave here THE quote that is giving me nightmares.

I said, ‘Why don’t we have that?’ You take a look at a map. So I’m in real estate. I look at a corner, I say, ‘I gotta get that store for the building that I’m building,’ et cetera. You know, it’s not that different. I love maps. And I always said, ‘Look at the size of this, it’s massive, and that should be part of the United States.’

— Donald Trump

Denmark’s response to the United States

It turns out that, as much as Trump and his supporters want to take control of Greenland, Greenland is part of the Kingdom of Denmark4. So, as expected, this has also caused great irritation in Denmark, but also in the rest of Europe and Canada. After his actions in Venezuela, Trump’s threats cannot be lightly ignored.

There have been responses that are equal to the circumstances, such as that of Mark Carney, Prime Minister of Canada, in Davos. But since I’ve shown you Katie Miller’s map, I feel compelled to share this wonderful response I found on TikTok, on Ronni Reitan‘s account.

It won’t solve the conflict or end up in the history books, but I have to admit that I found the map funny.

And I’m sure it will bring a smile to more than one of you as well.

Why is Greenland important?

Many of you may wonder why there is so much interest in Greenland, when it is just a large block of ice with barely 57,000 inhabitants. Trump’s narrative is that it is a strategic piece in defending the United States’ position against enemies such as Russia and China. This can be seen in part on this map, but the reality is much more complex.

Firstly, we cannot ignore the reality hidden beneath the ice of Greenland: vast reserves of critical minerals. These include zinc, nickel, copper, graphite and rare earths, but also significant reserves of uranium, oil, and gas. All of this lies beneath the ice and may not be exploitable for decades; however, there are those who believe that controlling these future reserves now is crucial.

The other reason is purely historical. The United States maintained a considerable military presence in Greenland after the end of the Second World War, at one point having up to 50 military bases. Since 2004, that presence has been limited to the Pituffik space base5 in northern Greenland. In addition, the Igaliku agreement, signed that same year, obliges the United States to negotiate any increase in its military presence beyond this base.

And perhaps negotiation is what Trump is trying to do. In his own way.

New map of Antarctica under the ice

Speaking of ice, let’s leave this single topic behind and move to the other side of the planet. This January, the most detailed map of the Antarctic landscape to date was published. And I’m not talking about the frozen surface, but what lies hidden beneath those kilometres of ice.

Thanks to high-resolution data obtained from satellites and precise analysis of ice movements, the authors of the study have produced a map that shows twice as many landforms as previously achieved, including completely unknown hills and valleys.

Knowing the bedrock hidden beneath the ice will provide a deeper understanding of how the ice will move in the future and how this may contribute to sea level rise, and at what rate. It will also aid detailed climate studies and the planning of future explorations of the frozen continent.

The Flooding of Villa de Guadalupe (1819)

I found this map in ’s newsletter, where he refers to this wonderful article by Pedro Zurita6.

In 1819, Villa de Guadalupe, which was still a separate municipality from Mexico City, suffered one of the many floods that had been common for centuries in the Valley of Mexico. The causes were a combination of extraordinary rainfall and several failures in the valley’s drainage system, which had been malfunctioning for over a century.

It was a disaster, but one among many that would have been nothing more than an episode in local history had it not been for this stunning map signed by Lieutenant José Mendoza. On it, the blue areas show the extent of the water in the town, as well as the areas that were entirely ruined after the flood. A terrible event, but a truly captivating map.

Piltover, the city of progress

This map is a gift for all lovers of League of Legends and the Arcane series. It is a map of Piltover, the city where the Arcane series is set, created by in her newsletter after interpreting the information available in the game and the television series.

It is based on a map that appears in Caitlyn Kiramman’s room in the series, from which Cristina interprets the possible location of iconic places in the series. Likewise, it is not a truth, but an interpretation that respects the urban logic and narrative of the game and the series. A real delight.

The largest map in the world

I had seen this map on other occasions, but I hadn’t come across it for some time, until a few days ago when I found it on Mappery. This map, as you can see, is officially the largest map in the world, as recognised by the Guinness Book of Records.

It is a work by Swiss artist Christoph Rihs, created on one of the cooling towers of a former natural gas power station near Meppen, Germany. The tower is 131 metres high, and the map covers some 26,000 square metres.

Today, it can still be visited as part of the Circuit Meppen facilities, which occupy the site of the former power station. Here you can check it on Google Maps, so you can see it with your own eyes.

The awakening of Europeans

This map elegantly shows the time at which the inhabitants of each European country tend to wake up, revealing significant differences between countries. However, these differences are much smaller than stereotypes would suggest. After all, there is only a 72-minute difference between the Swiss, who wake up at 7:13, and the Greeks, who wake up at 8:25.

What is inevitable is to observe the patterns. The south consistently wakes up later than the north, although I admit I was surprised to see that Central Europe wakes up earlier than countries such as Finland, Norway, or Ireland. However, what the map does not show is the time at which each European country usually goes to bed, which also varies.

In fact, to clarify that people in the south do not sleep more, I will also leave you with this map detailing the average hours of sleep in Europe.

That’s right: people in Southern Europe sleep less than those in the north. Surprised?

The mythological monsters of the United States

This map of the United States created by Neil Parkinson is truly wonderful. It brings together all the folklore and mythology of the country and shows it through illustrations of some of the most iconic creatures in American geography.

It includes more than 30, some of which I was familiar with, such as Bigfoot (in California), Mothman (in West Virginia), La Llorona (in New Mexico and Texas) and the Jersey Devil (yes, from New Jersey). Of course, although the monsters appear at specific points on the map, often the myth extends over a much larger region.

A very special birthday present

As I said at the beginning, last Friday was my birthday. Those who know me know that I am a terrible person at giving gifts. I have no particular appreciation for material things and, in general, on the rare occasions when I want something, I buy it before sharing that interest with anyone. You could say that I am one of those old-fashioned people who does not value the gift for the gift’s sake.

But of course, there is always a gift that makes a difference. And that gift is this map you see above, one of the best I have ever received. My little niece likes to draw, so before I celebrated my birthday last weekend with the family, she asked her mother what she could draw for me. My sister told her that I like maps, so she took a map of Spain she found lying around and tried to draw it.

She is seven years old and, as with all my nieces and nephews, I adore her deeply. The love and intention behind this drawing far outweigh all its oddities. That said, please let’s admire together the oddities of the map. I love the size of the Basque Country, the unexpected new status of Huesca7, and the fact that Valencia is in the centre of Spain, instead of by the Mediterranean. The only thing that hurts a little is that there is no reference to Segovia in the map. In fact, neither has Castile and León, despite being the largest region in Spain8.

How would anyone not love this map? ❤️​.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,100 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

If you like what you read, don’t hesitate to subscribe to receive an email with each new article that is published.

Subscribe now

Have you ever wondered how many people live in the world? It is a question that many of us have asked ourselves sporadically, but it is a figure that has been constantly changing throughout our lives. In 1987, we reached 5 billion inhabitants, in 1998 6 billion, in 2010 7 billion, and in 2022 8 billion1.

These are the UN’s estimates, but the truth is that we do not actually have reliable data. Many countries conduct censuses every decade or more, making it difficult to obtain up-to-date data. Moreover, several countries have no reliable way of knowing how many inhabitants live within their borders. The margin of error is estimated at 2% or 3%, so although the estimates might not be exact, we can definitely say that there are a lot of us.

That said, it is much more interesting to understand how that population is distributed. If we were to make a rough calculation, worldwide we would have a density per square kilometre of about 63 inhabitants per square kilometre, according to data from 20252. The differences between countries are enormous, which is why we usually talk about population density per country, but there are also extreme situations within each country. A clear example is Russia, where Nenetsia has a population density of 0.23 inhabitants per square kilometre, while the capital, Moscow, has a density of over 5,000 inhabitants per square kilometre.

Let’s dive into how population density has traditionally been represented, as well as some much more fascinating recent approaches.

Classic population density maps

Population density maps have existed practically since the introduction of modern censuses. Once the population residing in each part of a country was known, it became important for countries to visualise this distribution to better understand possible ways of establishing transport, communication, or basic public service policies.

The first population density maps appeared in the 19th century, being George Julius Poulett Scrope a pioneer with this world population density map in 1833.

It certainly lacked any kind of detail, but the problem to be solved was not an easy one. What is the best way to represent population density on a map? If we stick to the information from a single point, the map is illegible, but if I group too much territory together, such as the map above, the map’s usefulness is lost. The key was compromise, which came just four years after Scrope’s map, courtesy of Henry Drury Harness and this incredible map of Ireland.

This map was revolutionary in many ways. Not only was it the first truly useful population density map, for evaluating and planning the railway system in Ireland, but it is also the first map to use choropleths3 to represent data on a map. In this case, inhabitants and how spread they were.

Its innovation is evident in how the idea spread to represent data maps, not only population density maps, but of any kind. In a way, this was how graphic statistics found its way onto maps.

It is undeniable that these maps are extremely useful. If we take the example of Finland above, we can see at a glance that most of the country’s inhabitants are concentrated in the south, with hardly any people living in the higher latitudes. It can also be seen that there are some regions with a higher population density, which correspond to the country’s main cities.

However, it is impossible to determine whether Turku or Tampere have more or fewer inhabitants than Helsinki. It is also extremely difficult to tell if the population in these cities are concentrated in a minimal area of their province or, on the contrary, they are evenly distributed over all the territory.

Despite their limitations, these maps continued to be used for more than a century, as they were a simple way of representing population density, especially given the technological limitations of the time: paper and ink.

Alasdair Rae, population density in three dimensions

Just six years ago, Alasdair Rae began creating population density maps using the advanced data visualisation capabilities of new technologies. In these maps, he took small grids and represented population density as lines of different sizes for each grid. This allowed each high-density population centre to appear as a mountainous area on a three-dimensional map. This is how he gradually put together this wonderful map of world population density in 2020.

This map is truly incredible, as it allows you to quickly identify which areas of the planet have the highest population concentrations, while also making it easy to find large urban agglomerations living in a small space. It is immediately apparent that Pakistan, India, and Bangladesh have what is possibly the highest consistent population density on the planet, followed closely by eastern China and the Philippines.

If you look closely, you can see that there are many large bars in the Philippines, but there is one that stands three or four times above the rest, which corresponds to the metropolitan area of Manila. This capital city is the most densely populated city on the planet, with a density of more than 43,000 inhabitants per square kilometre.

When looking at this map for the first time, you may also be struck by how empty the planet is. We are not just talking about Siberia, the Sahara, or the Amazon. Canada, Australia and almost all of South America are practically uninhabited. Hardly anyone lives in western China, nor in the rest of Central Asia. Africa, for its part, has densely populated regions such as the Nile Delta, Ethiopia, Nigeria, and the area around Lake Victoria, but the rest is surprisingly empty.

Terence Teo, the population of each country in three dimensions

Along the same lines as Alasdair Rae’s work, we find the maps of Terence Teo. At the end of 2022, he began working on various population density maps using data provided by Kontur Population. Using R programming and the Rayshader package, he began to construct column maps of different countries around the world and published them on his various social media accounts. The first was this fabulous map of Taiwan.

This map was followed on his various social media accounts by maps of practically every country in the world, thanks to which we can understand a little better the diverse ways in which the population is distributed in different countries. Here are a few maps for you to enjoy some countries.

In the map catalogue, I am gradually compiling many of these maps by Terence Teo and have added some information about the different mountains that can be seen in each country. You can consult them here (there are 52 so far).

If you like this type of data processing in maps, I recommend you have a look at the rest of the work by Alasdair Rae (Website, Twitter, Visual Capitalist) and Terence Teo (Twitter, Mastodon, Bluesky, Visual Capitalist). You won’t be disappointed.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,100 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

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Last year, I wrote an article here about lost waters. It dealt with some of the largest prehistoric lakes we know of. Most of these lakes existed during the last glaciation, which peaked around 15,000 years ago. Back then, it was cold, very cold. In fact, the average temperature of the planet was about 5 or 6 °C below the current temperature1.

It all began about 110,000 years ago, in what is commonly known as the last Ice Age. In the field of geology, this glaciation has different names depending on the region we are referring to: Würm in the Alps, Weichselian in Northern Europe, Wisconsin in North America, Mérida in Venezuela, Otago in Peru, and Llanquihue in Chile. Practically, there is a name for each of the ice caps that appeared during this Ice Age, which lasted almost 100,000 years.

With so much ice stored around the world, it is not surprising that sea levels were between 100 and 120 metres below their current levels. As a result, much of the land submerged a few metres below the sea, considered part of the continental shelves, became dry land for a few thousand years.

Some of these lands, now lost, played a fundamental role in the history of humanity and even in the biodiversity of the planet. I will go through the most important, although I will also leave a handful of curiosities for the end, those that we rarely talk about.

Beringia

The Bering Strait, with a depth of no more than 50 metres at any point, currently separates America from Asia. But during the last glacial peak, there was a land bridge connecting the two continents: Beringia.

The temperature in Beringia was unusually warm. It is estimated that it could reach up to 10 °C during the summer, thanks to which it was able to remain ice-free, unlike Canada and the Arctic Ocean. This made the bridge walkable for at least two periods, the last one between 25,000 and 10,000 BC. And do you know what happened during that period? Humans crossed from Chukotka2 to Alaska, reaching America for the first time. They walked across the Beringia bridge.

The ecosystem was very similar to the current Siberian tundra, with many bushes and small vegetation. The map shows how there were lakes and rivers across the surface of Beringia, and also some isolated forests. The American fauna was completely blocked by the Laurentide Ice Sheet, so only animals from Asia, such as woolly mammoths and sabre-toothed tigers, lived here.

Doggerland

In Europe, the North Sea disappeared completely, and the British Isles were fully connected to the rest of continental Europe, with a territory known as Doggerland. In the central part of this territory lies the Dogger Bank, which is precisely what gives it its name, with a depth of only 35 metres. The rest of the territory is almost 100 metres deep, so it is possible that it was not above water for a long period of time.

Humans also populated these lands during the Ice Age, possibly alongside Neanderthals, as indicated by archaeological remains found at the bottom of the North Sea. This would be precisely when humans first arrived in Great Britain and Ireland.

Perhaps the most fascinating thing about these lost lands is the course of the rivers, which made the Thames and the Rhine part of the same river that flowed through the English Channel and into the Atlantic Ocean. And yes, during this period, the River Seine was also a tributary of this same great European river.

The most widely accepted hypothesis is that Doggerland gradually disappeared with the melting of the ice that ended the Ice Age. It is also thought that the entire region may have been affected by tsunamis caused by the Storegga Slides 6,100 years ago3. This put an end to the settlement of the region and separated British cultures from the rest of European cultures.

Sunda and Sahul

Southeast Asia, which is currently a collection of archipelagos with thousands of islands, such as Indonesia and the Philippines, was practically reduced to two large land masses. On the one hand, the Indochina peninsula joined the islands of Borneo, Sumatra and Java, forming what is known as Sunda. On the other hand, Australia merged with New Guinea and Tasmania, constituting what is known as Sahul.

In addition to being visually striking, this is particularly interesting when we consider that Wallace’s line lies between the two lands. This line marks a biogeographical division that separates, in a rather scientific way, the continents of Asia and Oceania. Looking from one side to the other, even though the regions are very close, both the fauna and flora are entirely different. In a way, this shows how, during the Ice Age, this line prevented the exchange of species.

As in the case of Beringia and Doggerland, these territories made it easier for humans to spread during the last Ice Age. At some point between 60,000 and 15,000 BC, humans managed to cross the Wallace Line and begin to populate Sahul.

More lost lands

The four examples of land masses we have seen are usually the most popular when talking about the last glacial peak, but there are many more examples.

Just as Doggerland shows how humans reached the British Isles, the expansion of the eastern coasts of Asia made it possible for Taiwan and Japan to be connected to the continent. This allowed the first humans to reach these islands some 25,000 years ago.

The Persian Gulf ceased to exist for a time, although it is believed that the region was too arid for anything apart from desert to arise. The Red Sea, although it also appeared to be on the verge of disappearing, remained perfectly connected via the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb. After all, at its deepest point, it is over 300 metres deep.

The Caribbean and Central America saw their size increase substantially. The Yucatán and Florida peninsulas increased significantly in size, reducing the size of the Gulf of Mexico. The smaller gulfs of Panama and Venezuela disappeared completely. But perhaps most curious is how the Bahamas became the second-largest island in the Caribbean, smaller than Cuba and larger than Hispaniola.

The Mediterranean Sea also saw its size reduced, especially noticeable in the Adriatic Sea, almost half of which disappeared. The coasts of Tunisia, France, and Spain advanced significantly, but perhaps not as significantly as the connection of many Greek and Turkish islands to the mainland. If you look closely, what happened during this period is very similar to what was planned with the Atlantropa project.

Tierra del Fuego ceased to be an island. The coasts of Argentina and Uruguay advanced hundreds of kilometres, and the Falkland Islands were unified into a single island. And well, a new island would also have appeared, corresponding to part of the current Burdwood Bank, everything that is less than 100 metres deep.

Finally, as the icing on the cake, I leave you with another map illustrated as if it were a physical map which, in addition to the land masses and glaciers, also incorporates the lakes that existed at that time.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,100 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

If you like what you read, don’t hesitate to subscribe to receive an email with each new article that is published.

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Before reading further, you must answer this survey. Do not worry, neither I nor anyone else will be able to see your answers. Today we are going to have some fun.

For those of you who are impatient, so you don’t have to wait until the end, I’ll give you the answer now: it depends. I know that’s not the precise and satisfactory answer that people usually expect these days, but it’s the only answer that can be given in short.

The long answer is that there are many ways to approach the question, as well as a set of reasons behind the one you have chosen. There is no wrong answer, but it is interesting to understand the history behind the idea of a continent and why there are discrepancies.

The continents of the Old World

For the Greeks, the Aegean Sea was the centre of the world. On either side were the known lands of Europe and Asia. To the north, the two lands were separated by the Dardanelles Strait and the Black Sea; to the south, by the great Mediterranean Sea1. This clear division led the ancient Greeks to call these two lands continents, which simply meant contiguous lands2.

It was only a matter of time before the Greeks began to debate whether Libya, the name they used to refer to North Africa, should be called a continent or not. In the 6th century BC, Hecataeus of Miletus reproduced the map of the world as Anaximander had described it shortly before3. It already described the three continents, with the classic separation between Europe and Asia, and using the Nile River to separate Asia from Libya.

In ancient times, there were many other ways of understanding the world. The Babylonians believed that their capital was at the centre of the world, surrounded by a series of regions with their own characteristics, until they reached a great ocean on the outer edge4. Ancient Chinese texts speak of a world divided into nine continents or regions, which corresponded to the different territories and islands of their known world.

The Greek idea of three continents might have been just one of many that went down in history, were it not for Ptolemy. Ptolemy was responsible for one of the most influential books of Ancient Greece, Geographia, which, in addition to all the knowledge it managed to preserve, also established a very particular idea of the world that solidified throughout the Middle Ages.

Before Columbus left Spain for his first trip across the Atlantic Ocean, Europeans had reached a consensus that the world was divided into three continents. Europe was divided from Asia by the Dardanelles Strait, the Black Sea and the Don River; Africa was divided from Asia by the Isthmus of Suez. Columbus managed to reach land, which he believed to be the eastern coast of Asia. As more explorers took the new route, it became increasingly obvious that they were facing a new set of contiguous lands, a New World.

In 1507, Martin Waldseemüller was the first to publish a world map showing the Americas separated from Asia and with an ocean on its west coast. Previously, some maps had appeared showing the coasts of America, but it was not clear that there was an ocean separating it from Asia. On this map, the Americas appear as an independent continent. Well, actually two, as Waldseemüller shows North America and South America as completely separate.

The continents in the Contemporary Age

After shaping America, European explorers also discovered Australia in 1606, although for more than a century it was considered part of Asia. During the 18th century, some geographers began to raise the possibility that Australia was not a massive island, but a continent in its own right, something that became the accepted view from the 19th century onwards. In that same century, the Russian Fabian Gottlieb von Bellingshausen discovered the coasts of Antarctica5, although it was not considered a continent in the conventional sense until the mid-20th century.

This last detail is key. Surely, some of you thought when you started reading this article that the world is divided into five continents, as shown by the five rings symbolising the Olympic Games.

However, this viewpoint is not entirely accurate.

This flag was designed in 1913. The most popular theory is that each of the rings symbolises each of the inhabited continents: Europe (blue), Africa (black), America (red), Asia (yellow) and Oceania (green). Apart from the obvious somewhat racist symbolism, it appears that this was not Pierre de Coubertin’s reason for the design. This is what its author stated at the 1914 Paris Congress, when its use as the Olympic flag was approved:

Five equal, interlocking rings coloured blue, yellow, black, green, and red stand out against a white background. Moreover, these six colours can be combined to represent all national colours, without exception: Sweden's blue and yellow; Greece's blue and white; the tricolours of France, Great Britain, America, Germany, Belgium, Italy, and Hungary. Spain's yellow and red stand alongside newer nations like Brazil and Australia, as well as ancient Japan and young China. Here is a truly international emblem.

Coubertin’s idea was to create a flag that would, in some way, bring together all the flags of the world so that any country could feel represented in some way.

It is true that the Olympic Charter accepted for some time the idea that the five rings represented the five continents, but this was dismissed in 1951 because it was inconsistent with the original meaning of the symbol. Since then, the Olympic Committee has insisted that the idea is erroneous and that it should not be promoted as if it were true.

In any case, in the mid-20th century, we have a world divided into multiple continents. Something like this, shown on this map.

The reality is that there is no consensus. The education systems of different countries establish different continental divisions, although almost all of them fall into two groups: those that consider there to be six continents in the world and those that consider there to be seven:

• The seven-continent model is the one that prevails in the English-speaking countries and is the most widespread in the world. This includes countries such as the United States, India, Indonesia, China, the United Kingdom, Germany, Australia, and Canada.

• The six-continent model (combining the Americas) is the one studied in most Romance-language countries, as well as Greece. This includes Spain, Italy, Portugal, and all of Latin America.

It seems like a simple discrepancy: the problem would only be in considering America as a single continent or two separate continents: North America and South America. But I have omitted a third model, the one studied in Russia and some Eastern European countries. It also considers six continents, but in this case it keeps the two Americas separated, and it joins Europe and Asia to form Eurasia.

The continents according to geologists

The idea of unifying Europe and Asia into Eurasia is certainly appealing. After all, we are usually taught that continents are large areas of land surrounded by water, so why is Europe considered a separate continent? We have already seen that the reasons are purely historical and cultural, so from a geographical perspective, it would be logical to consider Europe and Asia as a single continent: Eurasia.

But if we want to be pedantic, isn’t Eurasia also connected to Africa via the Isthmus of Suez?6 This would mean that there is only one large continent: Afro-Eurasia. Or Afroeurasia. Or Eurafrasia.

Using the same reasoning, we can settle the question of the Americas. North America and South America are connected by Panama7, leaving us with a map like this.

With this model in mind, let’s dig deeper into the idea that Australia is a continent. I am going to focus on Australia and not on the idea of Oceania, since the islands included in Oceania hardly fit into the concept of contiguous land. What boundary do we use to differentiate between Greenland, with 2.2 million square kilometres, which is an island, and Australia, with 7.6 million square kilometres, which is a continent? It is clear that, once again, this is an arbitrary boundary. But it is also true that somewhere we have to draw the line.

If we talk about Antarctica, we also encounter problems. It is twice the size of Australia, with more than 14 million square kilometres, at least when it is covered by its imposing ice cap. If we stripped Antarctica of its ice sheet, we would find that it actually hides an archipelago8. Its main island would be somewhere between the size of Greenland and Australia, so we would have to decide whether Greenland would remain the largest island on the planet or Australia the smallest continent. With this new land mass in Antarctica, we couldn’t have both.

With all this in consideration, what do geologists think? Well, geologists say that the concept of a continent is not scientific, so it is a meaningless conversation from a geological standpoint. For them, the way that makes sense to divide the Earth’s surface would be by tectonic plates.

Tectonic plates are each of the fragments into which the Earth’s lithosphere is divided and which float on the Earth’s mantle. The most widely accepted classification establishes a total of 15 major tectonic plates and more than forty minor ones. All of this can be simplified in a map like the one below.

At a glance, it is clear that this does not solve our problem with the continents, but rather complicates it even further. The African plate, the Antarctic plate and the South American plate are the only ones that correspond entirely to the continent above them. The Eurasian plate would lose the Arabian Peninsula and Hindustan, and the Australian plate would include multiple surrounding islands. The North American plate, for its part, would lose part of the south to the Caribbean plate and would correspond to a large chunk of eastern Eurasia.

So, what is the most correct number of continents?

We return to the original answer: there is no correct number. All we have seen so far are different conventions that establish a number of continents based on history, cultural context and a great deal of arbitrariness.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,100 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

If you like what you read, don’t hesitate to subscribe to receive an email with each new article that is published.

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Happy New Year!

After two years working on the Milhaud Maps project in Spanish, at Christmas 2024/2025 I decided to start an English version. That’s how A Cartographer’s Tale came to be a year ago, a place where I wanted to talk to you about maps on a weekly basis. Or at least a place to use maps as an excuse to write all kinds of stories.

A year later, more than 1,100 of you are receiving this weekly newsletter, for which I am truly grateful. As I always say, when you do something because you enjoy it, the numbers are not necessarily important, but it is always nice to know that there is someone listening (or reading) on the other side.

As many of you probably know, I also maintain a map catalogue in which, over the course of three years, I have accumulated more than 1,160 maps1. Until a few days ago, the catalogue was only available in Spanish, but since 1 January, you can also check the English version at the following link.

The idea behind the catalogue is to find maps that are of some interest, whether they are old maps, historical maps, propaganda maps, data maps or simply curious maps. For each of the maps, I make sure to give credit to the author, put the year it was originally published, and some information to help interpret the map. This information should help to better understand what the map is trying to convey, whether it is providing data, historical context, or the authors’ intentions.

At the same time as they are published on the website, I have also automated these maps to appear on different social networks with a link to the website. Here is a link if you are interested in viewing the maps on your preferred social media platform: Mastodon, Bluesky, Reddit, Instagram, Telegram, Pinterest, Facebook, LinkedIn, WhatsApp and Threads2.

I would also like to take this first anniversary as an opportunity to thank some specific individuals who have helped to raise the profile of this project. I know that many of you are receiving this thanks to one of them, but for the rest that don’t know them, please check their work. You will not regret it.

• , author of and this nice YouTube channel.

• , one of the co-founders of Mappery, who also interviewed me on GeoMob3.

• , author of

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2026 looks promising, there is still a lot I want to write about, and I will continue to do so on a weekly basis. I hope you will continue to read, and please do not hesitate to send me any feedback or comments, they are always welcome. And share with anyone who might be interested!

To finish, here are some of the articles that have been most popular. Or at least some of the most read.

By popular demand, here’s a button for procrastinating, in case you have plenty of things to do, but you don’t feel like. Each time you click on it, it will take you to a different map from the more than 1,100 in the catalogue.

Give me another map

If you like what you read, don’t hesitate to subscribe to receive an email with each new article that is published.

Subscribe now