Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Rick Sarre, Emeritus Professor of Law and Criminal Justice, University of South Australia

Independent Sydney MP Alex Greenwich has been awarded $140,000 in his defamation suit against One Nation New South Wales leader Mark Latham over a homophobic tweet.

Latham posted the tweet in March 2023 after Greenwich was quoted in the media calling him a “disgusting human being”. This comment about the former federal Labor leader occurred in the aftermath of a violent confrontation involving LGBT protesters outside a church where Latham was scheduled to speak.

Latham hit back with a graphic and grossly homophobic reply. He tweeted: “Disgusting? How does that compare with … [sexual activity described in offensive terms]”, which Greenwich’s counsel described as “revolting”.

Justice David O’Callaghan is the latest in a line of judges in the past 12 months who have been called on to work through the intricacies of the law of defamation, its requirements and defences.

He was required to weigh up this verbal thrust and parry between two well-known political opponents who happen to be at different ends of the political spectrum and determine whether a claim in defamation had been established.

Such sparring should be expected in the tough world of politics. But, in this instance, had Latham’s slight against his antagonist gone too far? Or should the law defend his right to express his opinions freely, however uncomfortable they may be to his target?

This requires a delicate balancing act.

How was the case decided?

Section 10A(1) of the Defamation Act (NSW) provides: “It is an element […] [of] defamation that the publication of defamatory matter about a person has caused, or is likely to cause, serious harm to the reputation of the person.”

This means Greenwich was required to prove that the original tweet from Latham, and Latham’s further comments reported in a Daily Telegraph article, carried the imputation that he (Greenwich) was “a disgusting human being who goes into schools to groom children to become homosexual” and was therefore not a fit and proper person to be a member of the NSW parliament.

Counsel for Latham argued the tweet and article would be unlikely to cause people to think less of Greenwich. The judge disagreed. The primary tweet, he said, conveyed more than Latham’s own sense of disgust about homosexual sex. The implication was that Greenwich himself engages in “disgusting” sexual activities.

Twitter recorded at least 6,171 “views” of the primary tweet prior to the time Latham deleted it. But a television journalist reposted the primary tweet, after which it was reportedly viewed more than 654,000 times. The result was a barrage of homophobic messages online that were supportive of Latham’s comments. Justice O’Callaghan commented:

One might be forgiven for being lost for words to characterise many of the tweets and comments. Counsel opted for “despicable” at one point, but that is barely to do justice to the hate-filled venom that was unleashed.

The judge concluded that the tweet had not placed Greenwich’s parliamentary career in jeopardy. But he was satisfied the initial tweet and the later newspaper comments were defamatory, and were likely to cause serious harm to the independent MP.

He then turned to whether Latham’s counsel could establish a defence. There are a range of defences in the law of defamation. Latham claimed two of them: the statutory defence of honest opinion, and the common law defence known colloquially as “reply to attack”. The first defence was quickly dismissed. Any such honest opinion needs to be in the public interest and based in truth. There was no evidence of either.

The defence of “reply to attack” enables those who have been criticised (remember, Latham was reacting to having been publicly maligned) to vindicate themselves in the eyes of the public. But this defence is defeated if it is disproportionate to the initial “attack”, or untrue and actuated by malice. The judge concluded that Latham’s reply

was personal and not germane to any matter of politics contained in the attack. It was neither proportionate nor commensurate.

The reply was also untrue because, as his counsel admitted at the hearing, Latham did not know anything about Greenwich’s private sexual life. The judge found that it was actuated by malice. So this defence also failed.

The judge found for Greenwich.

He awarded damages of $100,000, with an additional $40,000 in “aggravated” damages by virtue of the way in which Latham had “rubbed salt in the wound” after the initial tweet.

What is the lesson from this case?

Is it that free speech is now more vulnerable to censorship by those with thin skins? Or that robust political debate is now beholden to woke curtailment?

No. It is neither of these things. What has been constrained is not contentious public discourse, but rather unbridled political spite. The initial vindictive riposte was found by the judge to be gratuitous and defamatory. It then unleashed an online chain reaction of highly offensive public invective aimed at an openly gay man. The law is there to protect people who find themselves in vulnerable positions.

Politicians can best serve the public when they are permitted to work in a safe and respectful environment. This judgement is a reminder that the law of defamation has a key role to play in bringing that about.

Rick Sarre does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Alex Greenwich’s defamation win against Mark Latham shows political spite is not above the law – https://theconversation.com/alex-greenwichs-defamation-win-against-mark-latham-shows-political-spite-is-not-above-the-law-238767

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Paul Moon, Professor of History, Auckland University of Technology

There is power in paper. Anyone who denies the potency of history’s dusty documents needs only look at the current incendiary debates over proposed legislation tackling the “principles” of the Treaty of Waitangi.

Documents may be static and mute, but they are able to sculpt opinions and provoke actions. And there are several such documents overshadowing ACT’s planned Treaty Principles Bill.

However, documents are not history themselves. Rather, they are the raw materials that go towards assembling some meaning of the past. And despite initial impressions, they are not infallible, but are susceptible to continual shifts in interpretation and application.

Another feature of some documents is their capacity for perpetual revelation. Excavating some of these documents and exploring the crevices of their content can help encourage personal prejudices to yield to historical evidence.

But those looking for absolute truths in the archives need to approach with caution. Documents are not neutral detailers of the past. Every document was produced with a motive in mind, and deciphering the intent can be just as important as exploring their content.

Examining the many roles documents fulfil – which is the idea behind my new book, Founding Documents of Aotearoa New Zealand: 50 Moments that Formed the Country – can help shed light on key historical moments that still cast their shadows today.

‘Justice and perfect sincerity’

Two documents, separated by a gap of 136 years, offer important insights into how we might understand the role of the Treaty and the principles that emerge from it.

The first is a set of instructions to Captain (later Governor) William Hobson issued by Lord Normanby in August 1839. These were actually drafted by the head of the Colonial Office, Sir James Stephen, whose greater drafting accomplishment – five years earlier – was the bill abolishing slavery in the British Empire.

Normanby’s instructions recognised New Zealand as “a sovereign and independent state” and acknowledged the “evils” of unregulated colonialism (while realistically conceding the inevitability of more immigration to the country).

Normanby was aware the proposed treaty with Māori – the centrepiece of the instructions – could be “open to suspicion” among New Zealand’s indigenous population, who might “probably regard with distrust a proposal which may carry on the face of it the appearance of humiliation on their side and of a formidable encroachment on ours”.

Hobson was therefore advised to overcome such reservations by exercising “mildness, justice, and perfect sincerity”.

Likewise, when it came to the Crown’s acquisition of Māori land, all transactions were to be “conducted on the same principles of sincerity, justice, and good faith [and] they must not be permitted to enter into any contracts in which they might be ignorant and unintentional authors of injuries to themselves”.

However, almost immediately after the Treaty’s conclusion, colonial smugness took over. The decades that followed were marked by blatant breaches and declining observance of the agreement.

Grappling with the past

Fast forward to 1975. In the dying months of the Labour administration, with the looming shadow of a Muldoon-led National government just weeks away, the Treaty of Waitangi Act was passed.

It was to be the legacy of the then minister of Māori affairs, Matiu Rata. After more than a century of constitutional hibernation, the Treaty was now re-entering national political life.

Under the act, a tribunal would be created with the authority to recommend the Crown take measures “to compensate for or remove the prejudice or to prevent other persons from being similarly affected in the future” as a result of any “policy, practice, or act [by the Crown] inconsistent with the principles of the Treaty”.

What was meant by principles? The act suggested there were challenges in interpreting the English and te reo Māori versions of the Treaty, and so proposed that principles derived from the text might help in resolving Māori grievances.

Almost half a century on, and 185 years after Normanby’s instructions, we are still grappling with the repercussions of these documents.

Where does ACT’s planned bill feature in this? While some people are anxious it might undermine the Treaty relationship that has evolved since 1840, historians are inclined to take a longer view.

History is seldom settled – that would be contrary to the ceaseless questioning that is the essence of the discipline. (No doubt, some people reading this piece are already planning to challenge its content on social media.)

But as various sides in the Treaty “debate” show signs of becoming more fractious, now more than ever an immersion in the documentary details of our past might be the antidote needed to those forces intent on prising apart our Treaty-based civic society.

Founding Documents of Aotearoa New Zealand: 50 Moments that Formed the Country (Upstart Press) is out now.

Paul Moon does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Blowing the dust off NZ’s ‘founding documents’ reveals the hold they still have on today’s Treaty debate – https://theconversation.com/blowing-the-dust-off-nzs-founding-documents-reveals-the-hold-they-still-have-on-todays-treaty-debate-238687

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Rob Brooks, Scientia Professor of Evolutionary Ecology; Academic Lead of UNSW’s Grand Challenges Program, UNSW Sydney

If you’re a paid subscriber to ChatGPT, you may have noticed the artificial intelligence (AI) large language model has recently started to sound more human when you are having audio interactions with it.

That’s because the company behind the language model-cum-chatbot, OpenAI, is currently running a limited pilot of a new feature known as “advanced voice mode”.

OpenAI says this new mode “features more natural, real-time conversations that pick up on and respond with emotion and non-verbal cues”. It plans for all paid ChatGPT subscribers to have access to the advanced voice mode in coming months.

Advanced voice mode sounds strikingly human. There aren’t the awkward gaps we are used to with voice assistants; instead it seems to take breaths like a human would. It is also unfazed by interruption, conveys appropriate emotion cues and seems to infer the user’s emotional state from voice cues.

But at the same time as making ChatGPT seem more human, OpenAI has expressed concern that users might respond to the chatbot as if it were human – by developing an intimate relationship with it.

This is not a hypothetical. For example, a social media influencer named Lisa Li has coded ChatGPT to be her “boyfriend”. But why exactly do some people develop intimate relationships with a chatbot?

The evolution of intimacy

Humans have a remarkable capacity for friendship and intimacy. This is an extension of the way primates physically groom one another to build alliances that can be called upon in times of strife.

But our ancestors also evolved a remarkable capacity to “groom” one another verbally. This drove the evolutionary cycle in which the language centres in our brains became larger and what we did with language became more complex.

More complex language in turn enabled more complex socialising with larger networks of relatives, friends and allies. It also enlarged the social parts of our brains.

Language evolved alongside human social behaviour. The way we draw an acquaintance into friendship or a friend into intimacy is largely through conversation.

Experiments in the 1990s revealed that conversational back-and-forth, especially when it involves disclosing personal details, builds the intimate sense our conversation partner is somehow part of us.

So I’m not surprised that attempts to replicate this process of “escalating self-disclosure” between humans and chatbots results in humans feeling intimate with the chatbots.

And that’s just with text input. When the main sensory experience of conversation – voice – gets involved, the effect is amplified. Even voice-based assistants that don’t sound human, such as Siri and Alexa, still get an avalanche of marriage proposals.

The writing was on the lab chalkboard

If OpenAI were to ask me how to ensure users don’t form social relationships with ChatGPT, I would have a few simple recommendations.

First, don’t give it a voice. Second, don’t make it capable of holding up one end of an apparent conversation. Basically don’t make the product you made.

The product is so powerful precisely because it does such an excellent job of mimicking the traits we use to form social relationships.

The writing was on the laboratory chalkboard since the first chatbots flickered on nearly 60 years ago. Computers have been recognised as social actors for at least 30 years. The advanced voice mode of ChatGPT is merely the next impressive increment, not what the tech industry would gushingly call a “game changer”.

That users not only form relationships with chatbots but develop very close personal feelings became clear early last year when users of the virtual friend platform Replika AI found themselves unexpectedly cut off from the most advanced functions of their chatbots.

Replika was less advanced than the new version of ChatGPT. And yet the interactions were of such a quality that users formed surprisingly deep attachments.

The risks are real

Many people, starved for the kind of company that listens in a non-judgmental way, will get a lot out of this new generation of chatbots. They may feel less lonely and isolated. These kinds of benefits of technology can never be overlooked.

But the potential dangers of ChatGPT’s advanced voice mode are also very real.

Time spent chatting with any bot is time that can’t be spent interacting with friends and family. And people who spend a lot of time with technology are at greatest risk of displacing relationships with other humans.

As OpenAI identifies, chatting with bots can also contaminate existing relationships people have with other people. They may come to expect their partners or friends to behave like polite, submissive, deferential chatbots.

These bigger effects of machines on culture are going to become more prominent. On the upside, they may also provide deep insights into how culture works.

Rob Brooks receives funding from the Australian Research Council.

– ref. The latest version of ChatGPT has a feature you’ll fall in love with. And that’s a worry – https://theconversation.com/the-latest-version-of-chatgpt-has-a-feature-youll-fall-in-love-with-and-thats-a-worry-238073

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Rob Nicholls, Senior Research Associate in Media and Communications, University of Sydney

This is the fourth piece in a series on the Future of Australian media. You can read the rest of the series here.

We are part-way through the work of the Joint Select Committee on Social Media and Australian Society. The committee’s interim report was due on August 15, but has been delayed by the previous chair’s promotion to cabinet.

So how well is the federal government regulating social media companies? This report card focuses on news and dangerous or inappropriate content.

A mixed report card

There are two critical issues here. The first is whether the social media companies are assisting in their own regulation. The second is the extent to which they are meeting their (implied) social obligations.

An example is Meta (owner of Facebook) and the eSafety commissioner. The commissioner has asked social media businesses to find out just how many Australian children are on their platforms and what measures they have in place to enforce their own age limits. For most platforms, the age limit is 13.

Read more:
Meta has a new plan to keep kids safe online, but it’s a missed opportunity for tech giants to work together

Meta takes the view that parents should manage their children’s Meta accounts.
From a regulatory perspective, the regulated business Meta has decided that other people (parents) should enforce the self-regulatory framework designed by Meta.

In the context of age verification, the government has signalled that Meta is unable to enforce its own rules and proposes to set a new minimum age. The details of this are still unclear.

Read more:
View from The Hill: Social media age ban all to the good, but can Albanese deliver before election?

At the same time, Meta is still giving evidence that it may block news content, as it has done in Canada, if it is forced to negotiate deals with news media businesses.

In the end, the News Media Bargaining Code has worked for three years by leveraging the risk of “designation”. The minister (usually the treasurer, but currently the assistant treasurer) may designate a digital platform business if that business has a bargaining power advantage over news media businesses, but is not making a significant contribution to the sustainability of the Australian news industry. Having survived withdrawing services in Canada, Meta now takes the view that the risk is substantially mitigated.

X: could do better

Although Meta pushes back against age-verification regulation, it is generally responsive to take-down notices. This is partly because it has a team in Australia to deal with those.

Read more:
Elon Musk is mad he’s been ordered to remove Sydney church stabbing videos from X. He’d be more furious if he saw our other laws

X Corp (formerly Twitter) does not. The primary reason that X was shut down in Brazil is that it did not have a lawyer on whom to serve notices.

X has little in the way of presence in Australia. Regulatory enforcement requires someone to be regulated. This is the primary blot on the report card for X. It’s really difficult to assess the effectiveness of regulation without the regulated business being present.

At the heart of the problem with regulating X Corp, regardless of the country in which the regulations are applied, is the unwillingness by the owner of that business to be regulated. Conflating the removal of inappropriate content with US-centric free-speech arguments is always going to be problematic outside of the US.

Good regulation relies on at least the tolerance of being regulated.

News: alternatives available

So, if the News Media Bargaining Code is not going to be a significant mechanism for funding public-interest journalism, there needs to be another solution. One approach is to impose a digital services tax.

However, this becomes risky if it looks like a tax that is selectively applied to specific international businesses. Australia has made commitments at the OECD on ways in which it will deal with profits diverted to low-taxing countries.

The University of Sydney has proposed an alternative approach to the joint select committee: to have an industry levy on a class of businesses that provide digital content services. This could ensure Australia’s international obligations in both tax and trade are not compromised by funding public-interest journalism.

Advertising issues

Meta has strong self-regulatory policies on advertising crypto products and services. However, the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission (ACCC) has alleged that more than half of crypto ads on Facebook are scams. Given that scams are a significant problem in Australia, it’s not surprising all of the relevant regulators are concerned about this issue.

Perhaps this is one of the most important aspects of the regulatory report card. There are four relevant regulators in Australia. These are the ACCC, the Australian Communications and Media Authority (ACMA), the Office of the Australian Information Commissioner (OAIC) and the eSafety Commissioner. Together, they form an important, but unfunded, group called DP-REG.

This group focuses on getting regulatory coherence and clarity. It also assesses and responds to the benefits, risks and harms of technology. That is, it forms the basis for the development of stronger and multilateral regulatory responses to social media issues.

The group has the potential to look at how money flows as well as content. However, co-ordination is much easier with appropriate funding.

A coherent approach from these regulators offers the best possible potential for an improved regulatory report card.

Rob Nicholls also works for the Association for Data-driven Marketing. He receives funding from the Australian Research Council.

– ref. How well is the federal government regulating social media in Australia? – https://theconversation.com/how-well-is-the-federal-government-regulating-social-media-in-australia-237991

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Lauren Sanders, Senior Research Fellow on Law and the Future of War, The University of Queensland

Thousands of protesters have been out in force in Melbourne this week to disrupt the Land Forces International Land Defence Exposition, where defence companies from around the world are showcasing their latest designs in weapons and technology.

The activists are protesting the use of such weapons – in particular, allegations of use against Palestinian civilians by Israeli forces in Gaza.

With the expo in Melbourne this week, there is also renewed attention on Australia’s weapons exports and imports. So, how much do we know about where Australia is sending its arms, and how many arms it is importing?

What gets reported?

The government limits what information is made publicly available about arms exports and imports due to both security and commercial reasons.

Australian exports include both military-specific and dual-use goods and technologies, such as computer components used in weapons. There is a strict export control system that is intended to prevent weapons from getting into the hands of our adversaries and to ensure they meet our obligations under international law.

But this system has been criticised for being opaque. This is because Australia only publicly reports recipient countries for items it is obliged to disclose under the Arms Trade Treaty, or in some cases, during parliamentary hearings or other similar processes.

Separately, Australia’s Defence Export Office publishes quarterly reports with very basic information, such as the number and types of export applications it receives and the total value of permits it issues. It only specifies the export permits for “end users” by continent, not country.

In the year 2023–24, the office finalised more than 4,000 export defence permits, with the value of permits issued exceeding an estimated A$100 billion.

Unlike other countries, Australia does not specify exactly what types of goods it has approved for import or export.

The government also does not report how many issued permits are actually used by companies to trade goods. The movement of military goods to and from Australia is tracked through other processes, such as customs controls.

Finally, requests for further information are typically met with resistance from the government, on the basis such disclosures would breach security or commercial confidentiality arrangements.

Read more:
With war raging in Gaza, how much do we know about Australia’s weapons exports? The answer: very little

However, while not authoritative, information about Australian exports can be pieced together from a variety of sources. This includes reports from exporting companies themselves, reports sent by exporters to the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, and statements made in parliament and in other government reporting.

The Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI) also tracks arms shipments between countries by assessing public information. Some countries provide information directly to their analysts.

Here is some data we have compiled from SIPRI showing Australia’s exports and imports for the most recent five-year period from 2019–23, based on what is publicly known.

Australia’s arms exports

According to SIPRI, Australia ranked 13th in overall military expenditures globally in 2022–23, spending US$32.3 billion (A$49 billion), or about 1.9% of GDP.

Australia was also one of the top 20 arms exporters in the world from 2019–23, though its share of total global arms exports was just 0.6%, similar to Canada. This share was up from 0.3% in 2014–18.

The United States, meanwhile, accounted for 42% of global arms exports in 2019–23.

The map below shows the top recipients for Australian arms during this five-year period. The top three recipients were Canada (32% of Australia’s total exports), Chile (28%) and the United States (11%).

What do we know about Israel?

According to SIPRI, Israel’s arms imports for 2019–23 came primarily from the US (69%) and Germany (30%).

The Albanese government maintains Australia hasn’t supplied weapons or ammunition to Israel in the past five years. This week, it also explicitly backed the United Kingdom’s decision to curb arms exports to Israel.

Some of what we know about Australia’s exports to Israel has been the result of
questions being put to parliamentarians.

In June, the government said it had granted eight permits to export defence-related equipment to Israel since the Gaza war began last October. It clarified that most of the items were being sent to Israel for repair and then returned to Australian defence and law enforcement for their use.

This reporting, however, does not capture sub-components that are manufactured in Australia and sent to a central repository overseas to be used in a larger platform, like an F-35 jet, which can then be sent to Israel from the US or Europe.

What do we know about Ukraine?

In the case of Ukraine, Australia has exported conventional arms such as Bushmaster armoured vehicles and artillery. Some of these have been included in its public reporting, given the type of equipment being provided.

According to SIPRI, the largest sources of military goods to Ukraine have been the US, Germany and Poland.

Australia’s arms imports

SIPRI’s data shows that Australia was eighth-largest importer of arms from 2019–23, accounting for 3.7% of global arms imports.

The vast majority (80%) of its imports during this period came from the United States, followed by Spain at 15%.

The types of items that Australia has reported importing from the US include ships, aircraft, helicopters and missile defence systems. In addition, SIPRI noted that Australia ordered 300 long-range missiles from the US in 2023.

However, because it often takes years for these large defence items to be built, quite often there is a lag in the reporting of import data.

For example, Australia’s recently announced deal with Hanwha, a Korean defence company, to build artillery and armoured vehicles will not be featured in these statistics as some components of the vehicles and artillery will be built in a factory in Geelong, Australia, while others will not be delivered in this reporting period.

Also, while export control measures deal with goods that are built elsewhere and brought to Australia, some permits are required to import the know-how to build controlled defence goods in Australia. This is another reason imports like these might not appear on public reports.

Lauren Sanders has previously received funding for her research on export controls from the Australian Next Generation Technology Fund and the University of Queensland. She is a legal practitioner who provides advice on the application of international law, however does not engage in legal practice related to export controls. The views presented in this article are her own and do not represent the views of any organisation with which she is affiliated.

– ref. What we know about Australia’s arms exports: we’ve analysed the data – https://theconversation.com/what-we-know-about-australias-arms-exports-weve-analysed-the-data-238563

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Milad Haghani, Senior Lecturer of Urban Mobility & Resilience, UNSW Sydney

The transport sector produces around 19% of Australia’s total greenhouse gas emissions. About 85% of transport emissions come from road vehicles burning fossil fuels.

In Australia’s Emissions Projections 2023, transport emissions are expected to rise from 2023 under the baseline scenario, returning to pre-pandemic levels. As the projected uptake of electric vehicles increases from 2030 to 2035, transport emissions are expected to fall.

While these projections are promising, the reality is more complex. Our new research has explored often-overlooked factors such as the rebound effect. It’s the phenomenon where energy-efficiency gains, such as those from electric vehicles, can lead to an increase in overall use.

We have already seen this effect at work in other nations that led the way in adopting electric vehicles. Fortunately, we also have evidence of how to manage the rebound effect to achieve the expected green gains from electric vehicles.

The rebound effect is widespread

When something becomes more efficient, cheaper or easier to use, people tend to use more of it. This can partially (and sometimes significantly) offset the expected benefits of greater efficiency.

The rebound effect has been well-documented in relation to many large-scale green initiatives, especially home energy-efficiency improvements when homes are retrofitted with better insulation or heating and cooling systems. With lower heating and cooling costs, some households then keep their homes at higher comfort levels for longer. This offsets some of the intended energy savings.

In the case of vehicle electrification, as cars become cheaper to own and run, people may end up driving more often or for longer distances. We are already seeing this in some countries.

A study from Stockholm, Sweden, during early stages of electric vehicle adoption found drivers made more trips and relied more heavily on their cars than non-EV users. The study participants generally perceived electric vehicles as being more eco-friendly than using public transport.

Drivers may also increase their speed and acceleration, knowing their vehicle is more fuel-efficient and driving has become cheaper. One study found a 20.5% rebound effect in journey speed for electric vehicles. This reduced the expected energy savings.

How much impact does this effect have?

Studies have found that if evaluations of environmental benefits ignore rebound effects, these benefits may be overstated by about 20% for reduced vehicle use and around 7% for reduced electricity use. Other studies have predicted more moderate effects.

You might ask, so what if travellers go longer distances? Aren’t electric vehicles still zero-emission? While they produce no tailpipe emissions, longer distances increase their environmental footprint in other ways.

More driving uses more electricity. If it comes from fossil fuels, it produces carbon emissions.

The manufacturing and disposal of electric vehicle batteries generate significant emissions too.

More driving leads to more road congestion and non-exhaust emissions from tyres and brakes.

In other words, zero-emission driving isn’t the whole picture.

Despite the rebound effect, electric vehicles will still have significant environmental benefits. But just how big these benefits are depends on how the vehicles are used.

What is the psychology behind this effect?

Understanding rebound behaviours is key to minimising the gap between expected and actual environmental benefits.

Research shows that while people may adopt pro-environmental behaviours, such as driving electric vehicles, they don’t always make rational, purely cost-driven decisions. It has been suggested factors like moral licensing — the idea that people feel entitled to behave less sustainably after making a green choice — drive this phenomenon.

More recent research has provided evidence that moral licensing is not the whole picture. Instead, environmental attitudes and demographic factors — such as age and gender — play a bigger role in determining subsequent climate-friendly behaviour. Younger men are least likely to behave in a climate-friendly manner. Older people and women are more likely to behave in sustainable ways.

Personal and social norms play a role in how people respond to energy-efficient technologies, but not always in expected ways. Pro-environmental values — where individuals genuinely care about their impact — are the most effective in preventing rebound effects. People with these values are more likely to adjust their consumption mindfully.

However, social norms can have the opposite effect. In some cases, people may adopt energy-efficient products like electric vehicles to meet societal expectations, but this can lead to what’s called compensatory behaviour. Feeling they’ve “done their bit”, they may justify using the vehicle more often. Or they might switch from public transport to driving.

What’s the solution?

Incentives and policies to promote electric vehicles are largely effective in cutting carbon emissions but can have unintended consequences.

The low running costs of these vehicles, along with incentives like toll or tax exemptions, may encourage more driving. This often happens at the expense of public transport, cycling and walking. Such incentives could also contribute to increases in vehicle ownership or city traffic.

Lack of knowledge about the full environmental impact of the choices they make can make people more susceptible to such unintended effects. When consumers are better informed, unintended consequences such as the rebound effect tend to diminish.

Raising awareness and providing targeted information could help counter behaviours that undermine the benefits of electric vehicles.

In the global push to combat climate change, simply reducing vehicle tailpipe emissions won’t be enough. To truly minimise transport’s impact, we must adopt a holistic approach that addresses the entire life cycle of vehicles—from production and use to disposal.

Milad Haghani receives funding from the Australian Research Council.

Hadi Ghaderi receives funding from the iMOVE Cooperative Research Centre, Transport for New South Wales, Queensland Department of Transport and Main Roads, Victorian Department of Transport and Planning, Department of Infrastructure, Transport, Regional Development, Communications and the Arts, IVECO Trucks Australia limited, Innovative Manufacturing Cooperative Research Centre, Victoria Department of Education and Training, Australia Post, Bondi Laboratories, Innovative Manufacturing Cooperative Research Centre, Sphere for Good, Australian Meat Processor Corporation,City of Casey, 460degrees and Passel.

David A Hensher does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. How the ‘rebound effect’ could eat away at the green gains from electric vehicles – https://theconversation.com/how-the-rebound-effect-could-eat-away-at-the-green-gains-from-electric-vehicles-238304

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Michael Nagel, Associate Professor – Child Development and Learning, University of the Sunshine Coast

As someone who has spent most of his professional life studying how children develop, I’m often asked by parents (especially mums) why children (especially boys) are prone to pick up the nearest stick, pencil, soft toy or even banana and turn them into weapons?

Girls certainly do this too. But research – and parents’ experience – shows you’re more likely to find boys using various objects as swords, guns or grenades to attack one another.

While some parents worry this is too violent, these actions do not mean you are raising a burgeoning psychopath. Rather, they are significant components of healthy development.

Playful aggression

Role playing is a key part of children’s play, when they pretend to be someone or something else. They can do this on their own or with others.

When they do it with others it is called “sociodramatic play”. This type of play teaches children both verbal and social skills while they interact with others.

Play fighting is one form of sociodramatic play. It can include rough and tumble play, chasing one another around, superhero play, wrestling and mock fighting. Psychologists call this “playful aggression”.

This kind of play is not about hurting anybody. Rather, it provides opportunities for children to explore their world with a sense of empowerment and control (because they set the rules) and to build relationships as they negotiate the play.

How does it work?

Imagine children are playing a battle with pillow forts and cardboard swords. This is not just a question of whose fort topples first. The game will require them to read facial expressions, express themselves and develop an awareness of power dynamics (or what researchers call “relationships hierarchies”).

Relationship hierarchies are complex, but focus on power and who is in charge. During episodes of playful aggression, this might mean taking control, giving in to someone else’s idea, or sharing power. These hierarchies allow children to make decisions about who they want to play with, who to avoid, or how to adapt their behaviour to create friendships.

So relationship hierarchies play an important role in emotional and social development. They teach children how to get along with one another, how to make and play within a rule structure and how to recognise the difference between playful and harmful behaviour.

For example, other children’s reactions during the game will teach them that yelling and jumping may be considered fun. But rough pushing or deliberately breaking rules – such as turning into a killer dragon when everyone else has agreed to be tigers – is not OK and will make your friends unhappy.

Why do we see this more in boys?

You might be wondering why such behaviours seem to be more evident in boys than girls. Research shows boys (on the whole) tend to be more physical in how they play.

Their play often focuses on themes related to power and dominance and playful aggression is the perfect way to experiment with these themes.

Theories about sex differences in social play extend across many research areas including psychology, neurobiology, evolutionary psychology and anthropology. Current theories link these differences to testosterone and differences in neurochemistry.

There is some evidence to suggest boys and girls are socialised differently in relation to being physical.

However, the degree of influence is contestable given sex differences in behaviour appear very early in life and in other mammals. Perhaps the socialisation process exacerbates nature – and as such, nature and nurture may be working in tandem.

The end result is still the same, with more boys than girls engaging in playful aggression.

When girls role play, it tends to focus on what researchers call “tend and befriend” or on people and nurturing. For example, games built around families or looking after pets.

But this is not to say girls can’t be aggressive. However, research suggests if girls fight it is usually done with words to hurt someone’s feelings and children are upset with each other. It is not done for fun.

Perhaps this is why playful aggression can be difficult for some mothers to understand and appreciate.

But there is no link between playful aggression in children and being aggressive as an adult.

Are you guys having fun?

For many parents, watching a group of boys mimic battles with sticks as guns or swords spells trouble. Odds are that they will tell the children to “stop before somebody gets hurt!” or “play something more gentle!”.

However, stopping this playful endeavour robs kids from engaging in perfectly natural, and developmentally desirable, behaviour.

Playful aggression is not serious aggression. If unsure, all parents and carers need do is ask whether everyone is having fun or not.

Michael Nagel does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Do your boys fight with sticks, Nerf guns and fake swords all the time? Here’s why they do it – https://theconversation.com/do-your-boys-fight-with-sticks-nerf-guns-and-fake-swords-all-the-time-heres-why-they-do-it-237976

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Paul Blaschke, Honorary Research Associate, Te Herenga Waka — Victoria University of Wellington

Urban green spaces are disappearing from New Zealand cities, at a time when denser housing is being planned in many areas.

Overall, the total area of green space is reasonable in New Zealand cities because they are relatively small by world standards. But our new research shows complex links between urban intensification and the availability of green spaces.

It highlights that Aotearoa’s cities have experienced significant loss of green space over recent decades, often concentrated on private land as a consequence of subdivisions and paving within residential lots.

We also show uneven distribution of green spaces between and within cities.

This is concerning because surveys show city residents value green spaces highly for recreation, social interaction and cultural practices. Access to parks and nature strips is also vital for people’s health and wellbeing.

Pressures on urban green space

Cyclone Gabrielle and the devastating floods of 2023 underlined the benefits of green spaces for urban resilience. About 13% of New Zealand’s population live in flood-prone areas and this proportion will grow as flooding becomes more frequent due to climate change.

This has focused attention on the idea of “sponge cities”, an urban design concept that emphasises the use of parks, gardens and other “green infrastructure” for stormwater and flood management, rather than relying purely on hard infrastructure such as drainage systems.

For green spaces to benefit urban resilience, they must be accessible and well-placed within cityscapes and communities. Flooding-related resilience increases when they are situated appropriately – for example in valleys or hollows where flood waters can safely accumulate. It’s not enough to have ample green space on the outskirts of cities or in steep town green belts.

However, the push for higher density in response to the housing crisis puts pressure on maintaining green spaces, let alone creating new ones, especially where land is scarce or expensive. This all adds to the pressure on council budgets, competing with other priorities for infrastructure provision in cities.

Our research shows both a loss and uneven distribution of urban green spaces.

For example, Wellington’s urban areas have twice as much land with tree cover than in Auckland and Hamilton. The variation between different parts of the same city is even more striking. Some Hamilton suburbs have up to eight times more green space than others. In Wellington, nearby parts of the city centre also differ dramatically.

In Auckland, private green space per person decreased by approximately 20% between 1980 and 2016. Given the forecast population growth over the coming decades in parts of most cities, these losses will become even more acute.

Inequities in access

This trend is compounding already significant inequities in access to urban green spaces and its benefits. This is important given 87% of us live in cities.

In line with international literature, more affluent suburbs typically enjoy more green space per person, closer to where people live. In some of the studies we reviewed, inequities in access reflect inequities in health and wellbeing.

Research in Christchurch shows residents of more economically and socially vulnerable neighbourhoods have access to fewer ecosystem services (the benefits people get from nature). This includes flooding mitigation, improved air quality, shade, and public and private green spaces. The researchers conclude the distribution of urban ecosystem services disadvantages more vulnerable residents.

There are also important design and quality issues for green spaces. Many parks and other public green spaces suffer from deferred maintenance due to stretched council budgets. This can make physical access (steps, paths) more difficult, particularly for people with impaired mobility.

A further issue is the increasing prevalence of hard surfaces, impervious to water. Central Wellington has one of the highest rates of paved surfaces in public spaces. This trend is also seen on private residential lots where former garden or lawn areas have been paved over for driveways or hard courtyards.

This is more than an aesthetic issue, given the critical importance of permeable surfaces for draining heavy rain and floodwaters.

How to do better

All these considerations should be taken into account if we want to improve the effectiveness of urban green spaces. Based on our research, we recommend the following.

• Urban green spaces must be considered essential assets for the wellbeing of all residents and as a climate adaptation strategy. Their provision and quality should be protected and strengthened through council policy. Many useful policy initiatives exist and could be strengthened, but current policy is highly variable between councils.

• Over-stretched councils can’t be expected to make up for the loss of private green spaces through subdivisions and urban intensification, as encouraged at all levels of government. Policies must require adequate provision of green infrastructure.

• Strategic creative design can incorporate green space within medium and high-density development cost effectively, if supported by the right policies. This may include green roofs and walls integrated in buildings.

• Continued investment in the provision and maintenance of green spaces is crucial even while cities build more homes and make infrastructure more secure.

Paul Blaschke is associated with the NZ Centre for Sustainable Cities and has received funding from Wellington City Council.

Edward Randal is associated with the NZ Centre for Sustainable Cities and has received funding from Wellington City Council.

Meredith Amy Claire Perry received funding from Porirua City Council.

Ralph Brougham Chapman is a co-director of the New Zealand Centre for Sustainable Cities.

Maibritt Pedersen Zari and Philippa Howden-Chapman do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Vital green spaces are disappearing in NZ cities – what can central and local government do? – https://theconversation.com/vital-green-spaces-are-disappearing-in-nz-cities-what-can-central-and-local-government-do-237861

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Richard Denniss, Adjunct Professor, Crawford School of Public Policy, Australian National University

Apparently, the world is about to get its first trillionaire.

A report from the business intelligence agency Informa Connect says, at his present rate of wealth accumulation, tech billionaire Elon Musk is on track to be the world’s first trillionaire, three years from now.

At the moment Musk is said to be worth US$195 billion (A$293 billion), but if his wealth continues growing at the recent rate of 110% per year, he will hit US$1.195 trillion in 2027.

The next trillionaire after Musk should be Indian mining magnate Gautam Adani, followed by Nvidia chief Jensen Huang and Indonesian mining mogul Prajogo Pangestu, all of whom are on track to hit the milestone in 2028.

The nearly 1 billion human beings who don’t yet have electricity connected to their homes will doubtless be looking on with interest as the tech bros and mining bosses vie to crack 13 digits.

Before examining how it is that someone could ever make a trillion-dollar fortune, and what it might mean for the world for so much of the world’s wealth to be held in the hands of one person, it is important to first try to comprehend how big a trillion actually is.

One trillion seconds last 31,000 years

A million is a big number: it is 1,000 thousands. If you managed to retire with that many dollars in superannuation, you would have saved up more than 90% of your fellow retirees.

One billion is 1,000 millions. It takes 12 days for a million seconds to pass, but 31 years for a billion seconds to tick over.

That means a trillion seconds would equal 31,000 years.

If you had $1 trillion and did no more than stick it in the bank where it earned 4% interest per year you would get $40 billion per year in interest.

No one needs $1 trillion, and it is hard to see how anyone could spend it as fast as it grew, which raises important questions about how societies, economies and democracies will be able to function if and when governments allow trillionaires to emerge.

For mortals, a trillion is hard to justify

France’s King Louis XIV spent today’s equivalent of US$200 billion-300 billion building his palace at Versailles, and it was by no means his only palace.

Pyramids and sphinxes didn’t come cheap either, but these sorts of expenditures were seen as needed for beings selected by gods and not entirely mortal.

For mortals, some believe that the entire population benefits when a small minority controls most of the resources on the basis that it builds incentives.

Just as peasants spent millennia awaiting their reward in the afterlife while their rulers enjoyed heaven on earth, in modern economies we are told wealth and prosperity will trickle down to us eventually if we keep working hard.

Unfortunately for most of us, despite the wealth of the richest 200 Australians growing from A$40.6 billion to $625 billion over the past 20 years, neither the Australian economy nor the wages of ordinary Australians are soaring.

High profits are meant to be temporary

Incentives can and do play an important role in our economy.

In the so-called “free market” envisaged by 18th-century economist Adam Smith, if my new farming technique or silicon chip is so good that everyone wants one, it is
considered only fair that I get an initial reward.

But after a while, everyone else will be free to compete with me by selling similar goods and in turn stopping me from getting an extraordinary ongoing reward.

The problem is that some markets aren’t free and don’t work properly. It is no accident that the world’s biggest fortunes are held by those who have monopoly rights to sell natural resources or technologies that are protected by patents or systems that lock in users.

That’s bad news for those still waiting patiently for wealth to trickle down or to be spread more evenly.

Technofeudalism keeps profits growing

In his latest book former Greek finance minister Yannis Varoufakis describes the world we now live in as one of technofeudalism in which online platforms have the ongoing opportunity to exploit workers, consumers and producers in ways Smith could not have imagined.

Having created digital platforms where the price of entry is handing over your personal details and preferences, modern tech titans use a new form of alchemy to convert data into knowledge that allows them to keep you on their platform and exploit you or advertisers or suppliers in the belief that you won’t leave.

And while there are physical limits to how big a car factory or fast-food chain can grow, there are almost no physical limits on how much money tech platforms can make by selling ads they didn’t make for products they didn’t make to consumers they know nearly everything about.

Restraining profits is pro-market

It isn’t anti-capitalist to want those profits competed away, it’s pro-market.

When the United States broke up J.D. Rockerfeller’s oil monopoly in the early 20th century, the oil industry prospered rather than vanished. consumers and the businesses that had dealt with Rockerfeller were better off, and so was the economy as a whole.

Democracies have, for now, the power to use taxes and regulations to redistribute the enormous benefits flowing to the new class of billionaires (and soon trillionaires) from the sale of scarce resources and the creation of platforms that keep us trapped.

Whether and how we use that power is up to us, but we mightn’t have it for long. The more the new class of billionaires and trillionaires becomes entrenched, the more it will be able to use the political system to protect their interests rather than those of mere mortals.

Richard Denniss does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Tech billionaire Elon Musk is on track to become the world’s first trillionaire. It’s a sign markets aren’t working – https://theconversation.com/tech-billionaire-elon-musk-is-on-track-to-become-the-worlds-first-trillionaire-its-a-sign-markets-arent-working-238560

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Emma Beckett, Adjunct Senior Lecturer, Nutrition, Dietetics & Food Innovation – School of Health Sciences, UNSW Sydney

US internet personality Nikocado Avocado (Nicholas Perry) recently shocked the internet when he revealed his weight loss of 250 pounds (110kg).

Perry had been posting mukbang content, which involves eating large amounts of food on camera while addressing the audience. Over some eight years, his viewers saw him gain weight, share details of numerous alleged health complications, and clash with commenters and other YouTubers.

The twist? He had apparently been posting only prerecorded content for two years while losing weight in secret – a feat he declared to be “the greatest social experiment” of his life. What can we learn from examining this moment in the content-creation zeitgeist?

Anyone can create content, for any reason

The internet and social media in particular have made it simple and affordable for anyone to create content of any kind for platforms such as YouTube, TikTok and Instagram.

Motivations to produce said content vary. While many do so for enjoyment and connection, others are motivated by money and fame. With more than four million subscribers on his (main) YouTube channel, Perry is certainly making money.

However, monetisation schemes for content creation platforms reward popular content – not good-quality content, or even necessarily true content.

YouTube’s recommendation algorithm also favours likes and comments. So content designed to elicit strong emotions performs well. Regardless of whether viewers are friends, fans or haters, the advertising returns are the same.

This may explain why Perry’s videos became increasingly bizarre and inflammatory over the course of his YouTube career (with My New Diet As A Disabled Person and Jesus Is Coming Soon, He Spoke To Me being two of the more unhinged examples).

As Perry told a podcaster in 2019:

They (viewers) like when I’m upset, they like when I’m crying, they like when I’m hyper.

The moral psychology of misinformation

With his Two Steps Ahead video, Perry reveals he was actively deceiving his followers in a supposed social experiment in which he monitored his viewers like “ants on an ant farm”:

Today I woke up from a very long dream […] having lost 250 pounds off my body, yet just yesterday people were calling me fat and sick and boring and irrelevant. People are the most messed up creatures on the entire planet and yet I’ve still managed to stay two steps ahead of everyone. The joke’s on you.

Despite his deception, the comments and resulting media coverage are largely lauding him for his weight loss and clever trickery.

In the “post-truth” era, most people expect some dishonesty on the internet. But what’s particularly interesting is how people also excuse – and therefore condone – misinformation, despite recognising it as false.

According to researchers, misinformation seems less unethical to us when it aligns with our own politics – and our willingness to give certain falsehoods a “moral pass” is why politicians can blatantly lie without damaging their image.

The fact Perry’s deception was rooted in his drastic weight loss – something viewers had urged him to do for years – might help explain why it hasn’t backfired for him and his image.

The ordeal is a timely reminder that seeing no longer means believing when it comes to the online world. Perry told NBC News:

While everybody pointed and laughed at me for overconsuming food, I was in total control the entire time. In reality, people are completely absorbed with internet personalities and obsessively watch their content. That is where a deeper level of overconsumption lies — and it’s the parallel I wanted to make.

Hoaxes and speculation

Perry’s big reveal isn’t the first example of hoax content designed to make a point. In 2015 a journalist created elaborate, but clearly faked, evidence for a “chocolate diet” for weight loss that fooled news outlets and millions of people.

But such hoaxes often cause collateral damage while trying to make a point. There is now speculation about how Perry lost the weight. Viewers are asking whether he used weight-loss drugs, with some calling this method “cheating”.

Such discourse further exacerbates fatphobia and the false dichotomy between “fat” and “thin”.

The impact of the audience

While the thousands of comments on Perry’s videos make him good money, they’re far from harmless.

Choose any of his mukbang videos and you will find plenty of disgust and “concern” in the comments section. Much of this is “concern trolling”, where commenters claim to be concerned supporters when they’re actually opponents.

Concern trolls aim to disrupt dialogue and undermine morale. Comments like “I’m just worried about your health” may sound supportive but can be far from it.

Importantly, concerned and hateful comments are not just seen by content creators. They form part of a larger discourse and also impact the way others interact with the content.

Weight stigma and aggressive comments against overweight individuals remain common online, exacerbating the harms of fatphobia.

Commodifying fatness and weight loss

Perry’s content is centred around eating large quantities of food. Such food performances can be part of fat activism and a rejection of shame, but they can also be part of the fetishisation and commodification of fatness and overeating.

While this content can have benefits in reducing loneliness and preventing binge-eating for some, for others it can motivate restrictive or uncontrolled eating.

In Australia, the weight-loss industry was worth more than $500 million in 2023. But “being on a diet” isn’t just about biology or nutrition. It’s also about culture, politics and marketing.

Weight gain and loss have been turned into entertainment, with programs such as The Biggest Loser amplifying weight stigma and fatphobia while making huge profits.

In the modern era of user-generated content, Perry and other creators no longer need a production company to exploit public interest in body-size politics for money and fame.

This story isn’t just about haters and internet fame. It reflects our collective social behaviours, and changing norms around consumption, criticisms and authenticity.

When the line between performance and reality is blurred to make a point, there can be benefits, but we mustn’t forget the harms.

Emma Beckett has received funding for research or consulting from Mars Foods, Nutrition Research Australia, NHMRC, ARC, AMP Foundation, Kellogg and the University of Newcastle. She works for FOODiQ Global and is the author of ‘You Are More Than What You Eat’. She is a member of committees/working groups related to nutrition and food, including the Australian Academy of Science, the National Health and Medical Research Council, the Nutrition Society of Australia and the Australian Institute of Food Science and Technology.

– ref. YouTuber Nikocado Avocado’s extreme weight-loss hoax isn’t admirable – it’s fatness being exploited for engagement – https://theconversation.com/youtuber-nikocado-avocados-extreme-weight-loss-hoax-isnt-admirable-its-fatness-being-exploited-for-engagement-238562

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Michelle Grattan, Professorial Fellow, University of Canberra

Six of the National Anti-Corruption Commission’s current investigations involve the conduct of current or former parliamentarians, according to statistics about its work released on Wednesday.

While the NACC refers to six corruption investigations, it does not specify how many current or former politicians are involved.

The NACC said 26 of its 29 current corruption investigations had begun in the 2023-24 reporting period and are still ongoing.

Three concern the conduct of current or former parliamentary staff.

Seven relate to the conduct of current or former senior executive officials, and eight to law enforcement officials. Four concern the behaviour of consultants or contractors.

Eight relate to procurement, one to recruitment, four to corrupt conduct at the border, three to grants and four to misconduct in law enforcement.

The NACC says these categories do not capture all the corruption investigations, and some investigations fall into multiple categories.

It says it is “important to remember that most corruption investigations do not ultimately result in a finding of corrupt conduct”.

As of Wednesday, the NACC is undertaking 32 preliminary investigations. In the last week, one preliminary investigation was closed, with no issue of corruption.

Its present 29 corruption investigations include eight joint investigations.

It is overseeing or monitoring 17 investigations by other agencies. In the last week, one additional matter was referred to an agency for investigation with oversight.

It has six matters before the court. In the last week, one matter was concluded with a conviction.

The NACC has 494 referrals awaiting assessment.

In a speech last month, the NACC’s head, Paul Brereton, defended it against criticism that it was too secretive.

“Sometimes we hear complaints that people do not know what we are doing, and more especially who and what we are investigating. Such disclosure would not be expected of an intelligence agency and should not be expected of us. Doing so has the potential to compromise the efficacy and fairness of investigations,” Brereton said.

“To provide as much transparency as we can, each week we publish statistics about the number of referrals, assessments and investigations. But we will generally not disclose their subject matter or status, unless they otherwise enter the public domain.”

Recently it was reported that police raided Bruce Lehrmann’s property as part of a NACC investigation. The raid was reportedly over the alleged retention of documents linked to the former government’s French submarine deal (the deal was later scrapped).

Lehrmann was accused by Brittany Higgins of raping her in 2019, which he denied. It was found in a civil defamation case that he did rape her, on the balance of probabilities.

Michelle Grattan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Six National Anti-Corruption Commission probes involve current or former parliamentarians – https://theconversation.com/six-national-anti-corruption-commission-probes-involve-current-or-former-parliamentarians-238220

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Alexander Howard, Senior Lecturer, Discipline of English and Writing, University of Sydney

Born in East Ayrshire in 1909, the Scottish educator and governess Marion Crawford, who trained as a child psychologist, is best remembered – if she is remembered at all – as an employee of the British royal family.

Melanie Tait’s entertaining, timely (just weeks ahead of the first visit by a reigning British royal to Australian shores since 2011) and historically informative play, The Queen’s Nanny, brings her story to the stage with a blend of wit and pathos.

A royal nanny

During a break in her psychology studies, Crawford accepted a temporary summer job working as the governess for Lord Elgin’s children.

This role opened doors for Crawford, leading to her introduction to the Duke and Duchess of York (later King George VI and Queen Elizabeth). Suitably impressed, the Duke and Duchess hired her to serve as the governess for their two daughters, Princess Elizabeth (later Queen Elizabeth II) and Princess Margaret.

This position placed Crawford at the heart of the royal household for over 16 years, during which time she became a trusted figure in the lives of the future Queen (referred to in the play by her family nickname, Lilibet) and her sister. She was also close to the Queen Mother and affectionately referred to as “Crawfie” by the royal household.

Crawford remained in service and did not retire until Princess Elizabeth’s wedding in November 1947, two months after Crawford’s marriage to the Scottish bank manager, George Buthlay.

Not long after Elizabeth’s marriage, Bruce and Beatrice Gould, editors of the major American magazine Ladies’ Home Journal, approached Buckingham Palace and the British Foreign and Commonwealth Office with a proposal to publish stories about royal life.

While the government was eager to cooperate, the royal family was decidedly less enthusiastic, and ultimately rejected the offer.

Undeterred, the government suggested the Goulds inquire whether the recently retired Crawford might be interested in contributing. Crawford agreed, although her motives for doing so remain somewhat unclear. Her account of life as a royal governess, which initially appeared in serialised form, generated substantial public interest.

This, in turn, led to a lucrative book contract worth US$85,000 (the equivalent of around A$3 million today).

Published in 1950, The Little Princesses, was the first of a kind, groundbreaking in its candid – albeit extremely flattering – portrayal of the private lives of the young royals and their parents. Its unprecedented nature ignited a firestorm of controversy, and irrevocably damaged Crawford’s standing with her former employers.

The Queen Mother was, by all accounts, totally horrified by the book’s disclosures. She immediately severed all ties and forms communication with Crawford, who never again spoke to the royal family.

Crawford died, bereft and depressed, in Aberdeen in 1988.

Just ‘harmless stories’?

In her foreword to the 2012 reprint of The Little Princesses, former BBC royal correspondent Jennie Bond underscores the fact that Crawford’s recollections, which seem impossibly tame and unremarkable when viewed from our historical vantage point, are

harmless in the extreme: among the most ‘explosive’ revelations is the fact that in the schoolroom the two Princesses behaved like entirely normal and healthy little girls.

Needless to say, this is a far cry from the sensational content of contemporary royal exposes like Prince Harry’s self-sabotaging and divisive Spare. So why all the fuss?

Tait offers a possible explanation in the latter stages of The Queen’s Nanny.

In a pivotal scene set in 1987 on the royal estate of Balmoral, Lilibet (Matthew Backer, who plays the Queen among other characters) receives distressing news about Crawford (Elizabeth Blackmore), who, we learn, has attempted to take her own life.

Visibly upset, Lilibet shares this with her mother (Emma Palmer), whose cold, enduring anger toward over Crawford’s perceived betrayal shows no sign of softening.

Confused by her mother’s reaction, Lilibet says the memoir, full of “harmless stories about children”, was “hardly going to dismantle an entire monarchical system”. The Queen Mother’s response is telling:

I didn’t know that!

You haven’t seen what I’ve seen!

You don’t know how quickly things can change for people like us, and you don’t know what it is that will tip it all over.

Delivered with palpable intensity, this response exposes the Queen Mother’s deep-seated fear of change, instability and the fragility of the monarchy in an era of increased public and media scrutiny.

It also hints at the unspoken anxieties that, as Tait’s play suggests, may have shaped the Queen Mother’s actions, revealing how even seemingly trivial breaches of privacy are perceived as existential threats to the royal institution.

In her writer’s note, Tait says she “started working on this play around the time the Albanese Labor Government was voted in”.

She describes feeling hopeful, and confident

when the play got to the stage, we’d have lived through a successful Australian Indigenous Voice Referendum and, in an election year, movement would be ramping up about a new Republic Referendum. I wanted this play to be part of that conversation.

Sadly, neither of these things have happened. Nonetheless, Tait’s play succeeds in contributing to ongoing conversations about national identity and modes of governance, and inviting us to reflect on the interplay between personal narratives and larger historical and political tides.

Alexander Howard does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. The Queen’s Nanny: an entertaining, timely and informative play about Elizabeth II’s governess – https://theconversation.com/the-queens-nanny-an-entertaining-timely-and-informative-play-about-elizabeth-iis-governess-237482

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Ferdinand Balfoort, PhD Candidate in Law, Charles Darwin University

Recent decisions by the Melbourne City and Sunshine Coast councils to end contracts with operators of shared e-scooters have reignited debate around this form of transport. It ticks many sustainability boxes, yet continues to make headlines for the wrong reasons.

In addition to “reckless” rider behaviour, a more recent concern has involved allegations of e‑scooter schemes exceeding contracted caps on numbers and misreporting data. This has prompted Brisbane, Canberra and Townsville in Australia and Auckland and Wellington in New Zealand to cancel the operator Beam’s licence in their cities. Beam Mobility has said it is unable to comment until a legal firm it appointed has completed an investigation.

Embroiled within the e‑scooter debate is a more fundamental issue: are we talking about shared e‑scooters for hire, or personal e‑scooters, which people can buy online for as little as a few hundred dollars? The report to the Sunshine Coast Council noted:

Community sentiment does not appear to differentiate between personally owned and hired e‑scooters.

In the case of the Sunshine Coast, and elsewhere globally, hospital emergency departments, regulators, councillors and council staff demonstrated a high level of uncertainty about e‑scooters. This likely reflects a lack of data and informed understanding of the challenges and benefits of personal e‑scooters.

The Melbourne and Sunshine Coast councils have purportedly dealt with public concerns about shared e-scooters. But don’t personal e-scooters also shoulder some blame?

Why bans are not the answer

At present, New South Wales and South Australia prohibit the riding of private e‑scooters in public places (though this is set to change in SA). But bans are ultimately not the answer: e‑scooters are here whether we like it or not.

Despite ongoing questions around their legality, sales of personal/private e‑scooters have grown by around 20% a year since 2018. An estimated 250,000 e-scooters and personal mobility devices were in use in 2022. Assuming a similar rate of growth, we estimate Australians own 350,000 to 400,000 personal e-scooters and personal mobility devices. This means around 2% of adults own one.

Rates of e-scooter ownership in inner-urban areas could be much higher. The City of Sydney reports 10% of residents own an e-scooter .

Banning shared types, while allowing unregulated personal e‑scooters, sends mixed signals. It overlooks the potentially greater burdens from personal e‑scooters, which are capable of higher speeds than shared e‑scooters, which are speed-limited.

There is also no enforcement to date of quality control standards for personal e‑scooters and their chargers. These have been linked to e-battery fires in Australia and overseas.

Lessons from New Zealand

In New Zealand, our team’s research, which we’ll present at a conference in November 2024, suggests 5-7% of people own e‑scooters. Around 400,000 e‑scooters were imported from 2018 to 2023, according to New Zealand Statistics. That’s vastly more than the 6,439 shared e‑scooters operating in the country.

Yet most academic research globally has focused on shared e‑scooters. The neglect of personal ones is likely due to the lack of concrete data on the users, their behaviours and vehicle types and specifications.

These data are difficult to collect because personal e‑scooters are unregistered and unconnected to any GPS-based technology. Shared e‑scooters are tracked, which potentially provides valuable data, despite recent concerns about its reliability.

The 252 respondents to our NZ study provide insights into personal e‑scooter owners and behaviours. Some of the handful of prior studies had already identified significant potential issues. For instance, a majority (58.4%) of these scooters would be able to exceed 25km/h speed limits.

These studies also found using shared e‑scooters often leads to personal ownership. Our study suggests shared modes may complement personal e‑scooter use.

New Zealand has comparatively standardised laws on how personal e‑scooters are classified and used. An e‑scooter with an engine capacity exceeding 300 Watts (W) is classed as a motor vehicle and must be registered, though our research suggests there is a lack of enforcement. Council licensing limits shared e‑scooter engines to 300W.

Australian rules vary wildly

In Australia, state regulations do not explicitly limit engine size. We have seen “catch-up” policies and rules that vary greatly across the country.

These range from outright bans on using personal e‑escooters in public spaces to a myriad of different rules around the country. In some states, people can ride e‑scooters on footpaths, shared paths, bike lanes and certain roads. In others, footpaths and shared paths are off-limits. Depending on the location, speed limits may be 10km/h, 12km/h, 15km/h, 20km/h or 25km/h.

Enforcement in New Zealand, and likely in Australia, is not very effective. for personal e‑scooters with an engine capacity over 300W. One enforcement action in New Zealand was reported in 2018 and one in 2023.

In Australia, e‑scooters are regulated based on speed limits, among other things. But the speed of shared e‑scooters is easier to determine than for unregistered and unmonitored personal e‑scooters. In New Zealand, there are no speed limits on e‑scooters apart from those set by the licensing conditions for shared e‑scooters.

In this context, New Zealand personal e‑scooters occupy a legal blind spot. They get a free pass, as their speed is not a violation of existing rules, whereas their engine capacity is. But it can be hard for an observer to detect an e‑scooter that’s over the engine limit, unless it’s being ridden at extreme speeds.

We can’t afford to keep ignoring personal e-scooters

As long as personal e‑scooters remain unregistered and enforcement action is limited, their high numbers in Australia and New Zealand, compared to shared e‑scooters, are likely to have an oversized impact in terms of engine capacity, speed and the potential for accidents.

It is high time for researchers and regulators to recognise the significant potential impacts of personal e‑scooters – both benefits and burdens.

Council decisions to end the operation of shared e‑scooters may be addressing only part of the problem based on incomplete data and reporting.

Ferdinand Balfoort receives full PhD funding from Charles Darwin University, Australia.

Ferdinand previously advised Beam Mobility Pte Ltd on Sustainability modelling and carbon certification of emission reductions.

Stephen Greaves does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. As cities axe shared e-scooters, the many more personally owned ones are in a blind spot – https://theconversation.com/as-cities-axe-shared-e-scooters-the-many-more-personally-owned-ones-are-in-a-blind-spot-237654

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Jonathan Barrett, Associate Professor in Commercial Law and Taxation, Te Herenga Waka — Victoria University of Wellington

Labour Party leader Chris Hipkins recently revealed the party is looking once again at it’s tax policy, including a possible wealth tax or a “capital income tax” (CIT).

This comes barely a year after the party ruled out a wealth tax or capital gains tax if they won the 2023 election.

So what changed? Former Revenue Minister David Parker’s idea is to use the CIT to target big earners whose incomes are not effectively captured by the current tax system.

But how is this different from the other tax options on wealth and capital gains? And what are the options if some kind of wealth tax is introduced?

The basic wealth tax

You can think of wealth as assets – items of value. This could include land, shares, art works or other valuable collectables. A wealth tax typically has a low tax rate. Norway’s wealth tax, for example, has a rate of 1%.

Only four OECD countries currently have national wealth taxes.

But prominent economists, notably Thomas Piketty, argue wealth taxes are necessary and practicable. Piketty also promotes progressive inheritance taxes – these can also be seen as taxes on wealth. Even one of New Zealand’s wealthiest men, Bruce Plested, billionaire co-founder of Mainfreight, has supported the idea of a wealth tax.

Often a wealth tax has some exclusions, such as the family home. Or it might be a value exclusion, say an allowance of NZ$2 million in assets before you have to pay the tax. Usually any debt against the asset reduces the asset value.

To illustrate, let’s take the Green Party policy from the last election. This was a 2.5% wealth tax on assets. An individual could have $2 million in assets before the wealth tax would need to be paid.

So if you had an asset portfolio of investment property and shares valued at $3 million you would pay 2.5% tax on $1 million (i.e. the $3 million portfolio less the exempt value of $2 million). This comes to $25,000. Note that this is paid every year – not just once.

Some compliance costs are obvious here – valuing assets for a start, particularly those that may not be actively traded (some art works or unlisted shares, for example).

Cash flow is also an issue. People may be asset-rich but cash-poor. A tax policy that forces people to sell their assets to pay tax is likely to be politically unpalatable.

Taxing capital and land

A capital gains tax (CGT) also taxes wealth. However, a CGT is a tax on the gain in value of an asset – usually when it is sold. Therefore, a CGT is usually paid once (when the asset is sold), unlike an annual wealth tax.

We don’t have a comprehensive CGT in Aotearoa, but income tax legislation can result in some capital gains being taxed.

And what about a land tax? A land tax is a tax only on land. Land taxes have some advantages – they are hard to avoid or evade as you can’t move or hide land, for example. And land usually has an existing valuation, which makes compliance and administration more straightforward.

These types of taxes (wealth, CGT or land) are flexible – items can be included or excluded as required. For example, productive land, Māori land or the family home can be excluded.

Importantly, they have the potential to make a meaningful contribution to tax revenue. The amount collected will depend on the tax settings (e.g. what is included or excluded – and what the rate is).

These taxes aren’t perfect. They create distortions in behaviour, such as people over-investing in their family home if that is excluded from the tax.

Income tax, CGT and inheritance taxes usually only apply when money or property changes hands. Wealth and land taxes do not rely on a transaction but relate to property that exists and can be valued.

Where capital income tax is different

Labour’s CIT aims to calculate income (and tax) based on a person’s capital holdings.

While the details are not yet clear, it’s about taxing what people “ought” to receive as income, based on the assets they and their families beneficially own. We see something similar in the foreign investment fund rules which presumes a 5% return.

A CIT may make sense to economists but most people are likely to expect to be taxed on something they receive or own, rather than on something they are expected to receive.

Fair taxation

It’s basically about the fairness principle of ability to pay. A “buck is a buck” whether that dollar comes from wages, bank account interest, or is held in wealth.

The principle also underpins Labour’s CIT. Support for wealth taxes comes from the wealthy, the public and experts. The 2010 Tax Working Group recommended a low-rate land tax. The majority of the 2019 Tax Working Group recommended a CGT on a broad range of assets.

New Zealand has yet to adopt any such measures. Even the United Kingdom, where Conservative governments have held power for 32 years since 1979, has a more progressive income tax system than New Zealand, including a comprehensive CGT and an inheritance tax with a standard rate of 40%.

If taxes on wealth are an obvious policy choice for other OECD counties, why we don’t have them? And why has there been so little serious debate about moving away from our reliance on personal income tax and GST?

New Zealand is not exceptional and should learn from the best of OECD tax arrangements. Progressive policy makers need to focus on the basics of ability to pay – “a buck is a buck”. Well-meaning as it may be, a CIT is unlikely to communicate the fundamentals of tax fairness to the voting public.

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Labour is talking about a wealth tax again – what are its options and what might work? – https://theconversation.com/labour-is-talking-about-a-wealth-tax-again-what-are-its-options-and-what-might-work-238674

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Wesley Morgan, Research Associate, Institute for Climate Risk and Response, UNSW Sydney

It’s now very likely Australia will be announced as the host of the COP31 global climate talks in 2026 alongside Pacific nations. This would be a very big deal. The talks run for a fortnight and draw tens of thousands of delegates. It would be the largest diplomatic summit Australia has ever held, with satellite events in Pacific nations.

A decision – made by other countries in our United Nations regional grouping – is expected in November. Sydney, Adelaide and Brisbane have already signalled interest in hosting.

Hosting these talks can boost national fortunes. When the United Kingdom hosted the talks in 2021, it was their biggest international success after the pain of Brexit, winning friends and influence.

The talks would bring global attention – and heighten expectations. Playing host would cement Australia’s place in the emerging net-zero economy, galvanise the federal government’s green industry plans and rapidly build the trade and diplomatic ties needed to develop new markets for clean energy goods.

In a Climate Council and Smart Energy Council report released today, we lay out how important these talks would be to shift Australia away from fossil-fuel exports, switch from mining dirty to mining clean, rebuild our position in the acutely climate-aware Pacific and secure new economic opportunities in Asia.

A talkfest – but a vital one

Critics of these talks often frame them as a bloated international talkfest where nothing actually happens.

But consider the problem. Almost 200 countries with very different interests send representatives. Island nations in the Pacific don’t profit from fossil fuel sales, but face the loss of their land to the sea and their reefs to the heat. Major fossil fuel exporters, however, have an incentive to go slow.

As extreme weather and marine heating intensify, the climate crisis is becoming more visible everywhere. People are being forced from their homes in Tuvalu and Lismore alike. A third of Australians worry extreme weather may force them to permanently relocate. We all have a shared interest in going fast.

Progress is finally happening. After the crucial 2015 Paris Agreement, COP talks have been characterised by negotiation over how to cut greenhouse gas emissions and shift away from fossil fuels. At these talks, countries also assess progress toward their shared goals and wealthier nations may pledge support to help developing countries deal with climate impacts.

But they are more than this. They are also a de facto global trade fair, bringing together major players in clean energy industries and providing a platform to attract global investment in local projects. As host, Australia could shape the agenda for important informal discussions alongside the formal meetings.

There’s already interest from Brisbane, Adelaide and Sydney in hosting the talks.

Major sporting events such as the Commonwealth Games often require custom-built facilities. But the COP talks just need good conference centres, hotels and transport. Hosting the UN talks could deliver the chosen city a windfall of between A$100-210 million, equivalent to about four AFL grand finals. Hosting the 2021 talks added an estimated A$1 billion to the overall UK economy.

All signs suggest the Australia/Pacific bid is likely to be chosen. The 2026 COP host will be decided by countries in the ‘Western Europe and Other’ regional grouping at the UN (COP hosting is rotated among regions). There’s already public support from the United States, United Kingdom, France, Germany, New Zealand, Switzerland and Canada. The other bidder, Türkiye, does not currently have public backing.

Australia’s bid has widespread domestic support. A recent Lowy poll found 70% of Australians are supportive. Business groups are also supportive, while major banks are already working to unlock private sector investment in anticipation.

What would it mean for Australia-Pacific relationships?

Pacific island countries see climate change as their “single greatest” threat. Leaders see climate change impacts — stronger cyclones, devastating floods, rising seas, dying reefs and ocean acidification — as more tangible and immediate threats than geopolitical manoeuvring.

Pacific nations have long worked together at COP talks to drive global climate action. They have earned a reputation for sticking to the science, and were instrumental in securing landmark climate deals like the Kyoto Protocol and the Paris Agreement.

On climate, Australia can now bring more to the table. Already, 40% of the main grid runs on clean energy. That figure will likely reach 80% by 2030. Australia is funding a range of Pacific climate adaptation programs.

A key tension remains, however. Pacific island nations have urged major powers to phase out fossil fuel production, while Australia has recently emerged as one of the world’s largest fossil fuel exporters.

Co-hosting COP31 could help this tension by signalling Australia’s shift from fossil fuel heavyweight to clean energy powerhouse.

New economic opportunities in Asia (and beyond)

Global demand and investment is shifting from fossil fuels to clean energy commodities.

To reach net zero, the International Energy Agency suggests fossil fuels will drop from 80% of total energy supply in 2022 to 20% by 2050. Demand for coal, oil and gas is now expected to decline this decade.

Japan, China and South Korea buy over two-thirds of Australia’s coal and gas exports. But Japan and Korea now plan to double clean energy generation by 2030, while China commissioned as much solar in 2023 as the whole world did in 2022.

These shifts have huge implications. Last week, the Climate Change Authority released modelling showing Australia’s fossil fuel exports would fall 60% by 2050 if we and our trading partners take strong climate action – while our other mineral and metal exports would surge by 65%.

If the Australia/Pacific COP bid gets up as expected, the federal government must begin shaping the agenda now.

Wesley Morgan is a fellow at the Climate Council and research fellow at the Griffith Asia Institute

– ref. It’s a big deal if Australia and the Pacific are chosen to host UN climate talks. Here’s why – https://theconversation.com/its-a-big-deal-if-australia-and-the-pacific-are-chosen-to-host-un-climate-talks-heres-why-238320

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By William A. Stoltz, Lecturer and expert Associate, National Security College, Australian National University

The intensifying great power competition between the People’s Republic of China and the United States has meant the possibility of future war in the Indo-Pacific region has become a regular feature of Australia’s national discourse.

It is surprising, then, how little attention has been given to what day-to-day life could look like if a war actually did break out.

While such a war is not inevitable, scrutinising what it might look like should be an urgent priority so we can take the necessary steps to improve Australia’s preparedness and ultimately our deterrence.

I previously worked in the Department of Defence analysing what would be required to mobilise Australia’s privately held industrial base and civil society to support various wartime scenarios. From this experience, I believe the government has a detailed understanding of how war could impact domestic supplies of critical goods and international freight transporting supplies to Australia.

What is missing, however, is a frank engagement with industry and the public about the hardships that may arise during a crisis and how our industrial base needs to be recalibrated to address these vulnerabilities.

Shortage of critical goods

There are three categories of goods that would be most impacted by war:

• energy and fuel
• pharmaceuticals and raw materials
• smart devices and their components.

These are utterly indispensable to the our daily lives and the continuity of our society. Yet, Australia currently lacks the ability to produce enough of these goods domestically to endure the supply disruptions that a conflict would bring.

For example, as a member of the International Energy Agency, Australia has an obligation to maintain sufficient reserves of refined fuel to meet its needs for 90 days. In practice, however, Australia has arguably never met this requirement.

Indeed, our domestic capacity for refining fuel has gone backwards and sufficient storage facilities have yet to be established. Recent unpublished estimates from the energy sector I’ve seen suggest if supply lines were cut today, Australia would only have enough fuel to meet just days or weeks of demand.

Once road freight is impacted by a lack of fuel, supermarkets would start experiencing shortages of basic goods. Air travel would collapse. Non-essential retail businesses and most personal vehicle travel would likely cease, as fuel would be need to be rationed for freight, emergency services and the military.

It’s important to emphasise that Australia’s low onshore capacity to refine and store fuel would mean these dire impacts could be expected from even a relatively short-lived crisis disrupting our maritime supply lines.

When it comes to pharmaceutical products, the vast majority (90%) are also imported. China is an essential source of many of Australia’s medicines, which means they’d be inaccessible if a war erupted between Beijing and Washington.

Australia has the facilities and expertise to produce a wide range of pharmaceuticals, but scaling up capacity would take time. Disruption to the availability of medicines could therefore have catastrophic impacts on the welfare of Australians and potentially spark a panic.

Australia’s access to digital devices and components is also highly reliant on foreign imports, especially from China. While shortages of this kind would not be as immediately life threatening, there would still be a significant change to how Australians live.

More worryingly, smart devices have been embedded in the operational technology of most Australian industrial systems, such as food processing, waste management, water treatment, freight management, transport or pharmaceutical manufacturing.

A prolonged disruption to our technology supply chain could have devastating effects on our economy and essential services, as we would be unable to replace or upgrade key components. This problem would be exacerbated by our nascent capacity to disassemble and recycle the salvageable components of electronics, such as semi-conductors. Currently, we largely ship discarded devices overseas.

A ‘first 90-day’ crisis plan

While these scenarios are indeed alarming, we can take heart from the fact that Australia’s maritime supply lines are highly adaptable.

A war over Taiwan or in the South China Sea would have a far greater impact to global shipping than the COVID pandemic. However, the pandemic demonstrated the capacity of international shipping and air freight to recalibrate and adjust as key markets were disrupted by lockdowns and other response measures.

The result was that after a period of shortages, the arteries of international trade to Australia were restored.

Given these complexities, Australia needs to focus its national preparedness and mobilisation planning around the uncertain period between a crisis occurring and international shipping being re-established.

From my examination, such planning is not taking place to a sufficient degree.

The former secretary of Home Affairs, Michael Pezzullo, has similarly suggested such planning is overdue.

I believe the government should adopt a “first 90 days” national mobilisation plan designed with industry partners. The aim: to ensure Australia’s survival during the first 90 days of a war or similar catastrophe in our region.

Such a plan should be centred on increasing the domestic stockpiles and manufacturing capacity of the three most essential categories of goods mentioned earlier – fuel, pharmaceuticals and smart devices (and components). This would give us the capacity to sustain Australia through the initial period of a conflict as we wait for international supply lines to adjust.

Australia must also look for ways to diversify sources of these goods away from China because of the high likelihood of disrupted maritime routes through Southeast Asia. This diversification would ensure critical supply chains are more resilient in those first 90 days and beyond.

Why talking about preparedness is important

There is a critical need to include industry in such preparedness and mobilisation planning. Yet, from my experience, many business leaders are in the dark about what security interventions the Commonwealth may initiate in wartime to keep Australia ticking. There appear to be two reasons for this.

First, there’s a view in government this kind of talk would cause alarm. The opposite is true. Clarity about our nation’s contingency planning in a crisis can only improve market confidence.

And second, policymakers may fear that any discussion about diversifying our key supplies away from China would harm our relationship with Beijing. It may also signal Australia is preparing for aggression.

Again, I believe the opposite is true. For many years, China itself has been on-shoring its key supplies to make its economy more resilient to stormier weather. Australia could simply point to China’s example as demonstrating prudence – hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst.

Ultimately, strengthening our preparedness through a “first 90 day” policy would make our deterrence more credible by showing we take the prospect of war seriously.

This would complicate the planning of would-be adversaries by ensuring Australia could not be easily isolated and neutralised. It would also show to our people, allies and adversaries alike that while Australia does not want war, we intend to endure it should one arise.

William A. Stoltz is a senior manager in strategy and consulting at CyberCX. He has received Australian government funding via projects conducted at the ANU National Securtiy College, where he is currently an expert associate. He is an advisory board member of the Asia-Pacific Defence, Diplomacy, and Development Dialogue (AP4D), a council member of the Australian Institute of International Affairs (Vic), and a visiting fellow at the Robert Menzies Institute at the University of Melbourne. He has previously been employed by Australia’s Department of Defence.

– ref. Fuel shortages and bare pharmacies: we need to talk about what a possible war with China could look like – https://theconversation.com/fuel-shortages-and-bare-pharmacies-we-need-to-talk-about-what-a-possible-war-with-china-could-look-like-237461

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Phoebe Williams, Paediatrician & Infectious Diseases Physician; Senior Lecturer & NHMRC Fellow, Faculty of Medicine, University of Sydney

Three children in far north Queensland have recently become unwell with meningococcal disease, a life-threatening infection caused by the bacteria Neisseria meningitidis.

Meanwhile, an adult and a child have been hospitalised with meningococcal in Western Australia.

So far there have been more than 80 meningococcal infections recorded across Australia in 2024. Although meningococcal disease can occur all year round, in Australia this infection occurs most commonly in late winter and early spring.

What is meningococcal disease?

Neisseria meningitidis is among the bacteria that frequently live quite harmlessly at the back of our throats, and can be spread from one person to another via saliva. Sometimes, these bacteria can invade the body via the bloodstream and cause serious disease (called “invasive meningococcal disease”).

Although anyone can get meningococcal disease, certain groups are at higher risk. These include infants, toddlers, adolescents, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, young people who live in close quarters, and people who smoke.

Meningococcal disease most frequently presents as a serious bloodstream infection (septicaemia) and can also spread to the brain (meningitis).

Symptoms of meningococcal disease can include fever, shakes, nausea, vomiting, lethargy, and joint and muscle pain. If meningitis occurs, headaches, neck stiffness and sensitivity to light are also common.

Sometimes, meningococcal disease can also cause a characteristic rash that doesn’t disappear when pressure is applied. It may start as red or purple pin-prick spots, or as small bruises. But not everyone with meningococcal disease will present with a rash. And when it does occur, it’s often a late sign, indicating the infection is well advanced.

Infants and young children may not have the classic symptoms listed above. Instead, they may have difficulty feeding, irritability, a high-pitched cry, pale or blotchy skin, or tiredness and floppiness.

While meningococcal disease is rare, it’s sudden and unpredictable. It’s notorious for how quickly it can progress to serious illness, often in otherwise healthy people. It has been described as the disease that can leave someone “well at breakfast – and dead by dinner”.

Meningococcal disease requires urgent medical treatment, particularly antibiotics to stop the infection from progressing. Even with excellent medical care, one in 20 young children who contract the disease may die, and around one-third of children and adolescents who survive the disease will develop permanent complications.

While meningococcal disease can be contagious, it’s less contagious than many other infections (such as influenza or measles). The bacteria can spread via respiratory or throat secretions (saliva or spit), and person-to-person transmission generally requires prolonged, close contact.

We have effective vaccines

There are different types of the N. meningitidis bacteria, called serogroups. The serogroups denote different structures of the surface of the bacteria and are referred to by letters of the alphabet. Serogroups A, B, C, W and Y cause most of the meningococcal disease around the world.

Two main types of meningococcal vaccines are available in Australia. One type protects against serogroups A, C, W and Y (ACWY), and the other type protects against serogroup B.

The ACWY vaccine has been available for free under Australia’s National Immunisation Program since 2018, and is given at 12 months of age, and at age 14–16.

The meningococcal B vaccine is recommended for all children but is only available for free under the National Immunisation Program for certain people. This includes Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children under two and people with certain medical conditions.

Queensland recently introduced a state-funded program to provide free meningococcal B vaccines to all infants and children aged six weeks to two years, and adolescents aged 15 to 19.

South Australia also has a state-funded meningococcal B vaccination program for infants under one, alongside a school program for year 10 students.

In other parts of Australia, for children not meeting the high-risk criteria, the meningococcal B vaccine needs to be purchased on a private script. Many parents aren’t aware of this vaccine, and cost can be a barrier too.

Most infants who start their meningococcal B vaccine course at less than one year old will require three doses, while any child aged over one will require two doses for optimal protection.

Why are we still seeing cases?

Australia has achieved good vaccine coverage against serogroups A, C, W and Y, and there are now very few cases of meningococcal disease caused by these serogroups (although the adult case recently reported in WA had serogroup Y).

However, the number of people vaccinated against meningococcal B is much lower. This is partly because this vaccine is not part of the National Immunisation Program (other than for specific high-risk groups). But even in states with funded programs, there appears to be a lack of awareness.

Despite Queensland’s rollout of the free meningococcal B vaccine program this year, uptake of the vaccine has been low. There are 40,000 young children under two and 386,000 adolescents aged 15–19 in Queensland who are yet to be fully immunised.

So there’s less community-wide immunity to meningococcal B compared to other serogroups. Meningococcal B is now responsible for more than 80% of all meningococcal disease cases in Australia – including the three children recently affected in Queensland and the child in WA.

The Royal Australian College of General Practitioners has urged families to book in their eligible children for vaccination against meningococcal disease via free state-based programs in Queensland and SA.

In other states, families can request meningococcal B vaccination from their GP, and some hospital services provide “drop in” immunisation clinics to help families catch-up on missed vaccines, including the meningococcal B vaccine. Often hospital pharmacies will provide it at the lowest cost price.

Phoebe Williams receives funding from the National Health and Medical Research Council and Medical Research Future Fund. She is a paediatric infectious diseases consultant, who leads the immunisation service at Sydney Children’s Hospital (Randwick) and works for the National Centre for Immunisation Research and Surveillance.

Monica Lahra receives funding from the Australian Government Department of Health and Aged Care to coordinate the Australian Meningococcal Surveillance Programme.

Rae-Anne Hardie works for the National Centre for Immunisation Research and Surveillance.

Saskia van der Kooi works for the National Centre for Immunisation Research and Surveillance.

– ref. Meningococcal: what to know about this potentially deadly disease affecting Australian children – https://theconversation.com/meningococcal-what-to-know-about-this-potentially-deadly-disease-affecting-australian-children-238313

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Amanda Lotz, Professor of Media Studies, Queensland University of Technology

This is the third piece in a series on the Future of Australian media. You can read the first piece in the series here and the second piece here.

For decades, commercial broadcasting made its owners rich. Advertisers flocked to the networks – there just weren’t any other ways to reach so many viewers.

At the same time, the government limited competition by restricting licenses to operate. This discouraged content innovation and led to little choice for viewers. People habitually tuned into whatever was “on” – even if they weren’t particularly interested.

That’s a far cry from where we find ourselves now. The internet age has brought unfathomable new depths of choice and content for viewers. Social media and search engines have handed advertisers powerful new tools. Commercial broadcasters have lost their sheen, just as we saw with newspapers two decades ago.

That will have consequences for what appears on our screens. A substantial decline in advertiser spending on television networks Seven, Nine and 10, as well as their multichannels like 10Peach, 7Mate, and 9Gem, means there will likely be fewer of these channels in Australia’s future.

So what exactly has been happening to their business model – and can it be saved? Is everything really hanging on gambling ad revenue? Perhaps most importantly, what could this shift mean for society?

Read more:
Murdoch to Musk: how global media power has shifted from the moguls to the big tech bros

Streaming is only the latest chapter

In the business model of commercial broadcasters, the audience is the “product” being sold. Broadcasters pay for content likely to attract viewers, then sell these viewers’ attention to advertisers.

It might be tempting to assume the broadcasters’ struggles have been caused by the rapid ascent of on-demand streaming services, such as Netflix. But broadcaster revenue has been in decline since 2005.

Adjusted for inflation, commercial television network revenue had already been falling by an average of 5.6% per year between 2004-05 and 2015-16, which was Netflix’s first year in Australia.

So what exactly did happen in the early 2000s? We all went online. Search engines and social media emerged as new ways for advertisers to buy attention.

At first, most of the shift to online advertising came at the expense of traditional newspapers, but for the last decade it has cut into commercial broadcasters’ revenue as well.

The commercial broadcasters’ share of Australian advertising spend plummeted from 43% to 17% between 2006 and 2022, as advertisers moved their spending online.

Local content has paid the price

On the other side of the coin, broadcasters’ programming costs have not diminished, and have actually been increasing by about 1.1% each year. Many now have more channels to fill with content, with no corresponding uptick in revenue.

They have already radically reduced their investment in Australian content. Between 2000 and 2023, commercial TV spending on Australian drama fell by 72% in real terms, and spending on Australian children’s drama fell by 100%. Yes, you read that correctly, right down to zero.

Broadcasters fill many hours on many channels, but audiences no longer find much of this content compelling, especially given the wide range of other content and leisure options they now have.

Diminishing ad dollars have led to cheaper programming, and audiences have responded by shifting their attention elsewhere.

The erosion of advertiser-funded television is happening around the globe, but historically, Australia has relied more on advertisers than other comparable countries. That means here, the crisis is more acute.

Are gambling ads really the final straw?

Free-to-air TV’s future has been thrust further into the limelight amid predictions of catastrophe if gambling ads were banned on TV. That claim is worth investigating.

Data from the Australian Communications and Media Authority suggests gambling advertising delivered A$162 million to free-to-air networks in 2022-23.

That accounts for just under 5% of the total TV advertising market’s $3.6 billion in revenue that year. Any revenue lost to a sector in decline is costly, but keeping this small fraction isn’t going to hold off broader decline.

Not least because that revenue comes at a great societal cost. Australia leads the world in gambling losses – $24 billion a year – and promoting gambling has been identified to have substantial negative consequences for Australian society.

Read more:
Gambling is causing great harm. Here’s how to tip the odds back in the community’s favour

More pressing concerns

On commercial TV, the government faces far more pressing questions than whether to ban gambling ads. The loss of one or more of our commercial broadcasters seems financially inevitable and may even be in the interest of Australians.

It has been some time since commercial broadcasters delivered on their public responsibilities. They are a special class of business that uses a public good, the electromagnetic spectrum, to profit, and so they were set up with responsibilities to Australians in exchange for its use.

Yet over the past 20 years, they have attempted to back out of many of those responsibilities. They have successfully lobbied for the elimination of license fees, as well as for a significant loosening of rules around commissioning local content.

There are also cultural concerns. Nine faces allegations of fostering a highly dysfunctional workplace.

A series of recent scandals at Seven have led some to raise the question of whether the media giant is in violation of the Broadcasting Services Act and should be allowed to continue to operate.

Seven’s net debt is now bigger than its market capitalisation. That makes it fair to ask – is the company still afloat because it’s actually a viable business, or because of the power that comes from holding a broadcast license?

Where to from here?

Today’s media world is very different from the past. Like the horse and carriage industry at the dawn of the combustible engine, last century’s commercial broadcast sector cannot be restored.

That doesn’t mean we’re going to suddenly lose sport and other valued content – these things will find a way to viewers as the ecosystem adapts. News and entertainment may come at a higher cost for consumers and government, but the content made will prioritise consumers rather than advertisers.

That might be a good thing. The sector arguably hasn’t delivered for Australians as it was meant to for some time.

Amanda Lotz receives funding from Australian Research Council.

– ref. The commercial broadcasters’ crisis isn’t new, but can no longer be ignored. What’s next for TV? – https://theconversation.com/the-commercial-broadcasters-crisis-isnt-new-but-can-no-longer-be-ignored-whats-next-for-tv-237746

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Michelle Grattan, Professorial Fellow, University of Canberra

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has been late out of the blocks on a ban on children accessing social media. Now that he has promised to act, pledging to introduce legislation this year, the question is whether it will be passed before the election.

Listening to the “dorothy dix” questions from the Labor side during Tuesday’s question time, it was hard to avoid thinking an embattled government had lit on something popular to push that would usefully distract from other, more negative issues.

This is not to argue against a ban, just to wonder at the timing of the sudden federal enthusiasm, especially when the government is already struggling with its legislative agenda.

It is not just the bills already introduced. Think of what we haven’t seen – gambling reform and big changes to electoral donations and spending, for starters, and quite a bit more.

South Australian Premier Peter Malinauskas has led on a social media age ban, as indeed, has the federal opposition. The Coalition on Tuesday was quick to highlight its advocacy months ago.

Albanese realises social media is a real concern among many parents, and that the federal government has been running behind community opinion.

In its race to catch up, the government has been gifted some advantages by South Australia’s pioneering effort.

Crucially, the SA government commissioned former High Court Chief Justice Robert French to prepare a detailed framework for its proposed state legislation.

While that was directed to the state’s plans, French had an eye to the federal scene because Malinauskas always believed a national regime was the most effective way to go.

So the feds could, relatively easily, pick up the French framework as the basis for a federal bill. But that still leaves a lot of other things to work through.

There will be debate around the appropriate age for the ban (the federal government doesn’t like the term “ban” – it prefers “minimum age for access”). The SA plan would have those under 14 blocked, with parental consent required for those 14 and 15. Albanese was unable to be definite on an age for the federal legislation, although he said his personal preference was 16.

Communications Minister Michelle Rowland said “there is intense debate in the community at the moment about what that age should be”.

Rowland said the government remained open to what the age should be. It would be informed by “a number of pieces of work we’re doing,” she told Sky.

“We’ll continue to have this conversation about age.” She even agreed one option was to legislate the ban and impose the age subsequently.

Listening to Rowland, one would think the government had a lot more time than it has given itself. She casts the Albanese announcement as much in terms of the messaging as the specifics of the proposed ban.

What the prime minister has achieved with this announcement is two things. Firstly, to really give some normative value to parents out there who are worried about their kids, who are questioning what is appropriate for their own children.

Secondly, it says that we understand, while all these pieces of work are being done, we need to make sure that young people are kept safe. We need to ensure that every part of the ecosystem does its job: governments, civil society and the platforms themselves. And that second part about the digital platforms themselves doing more is something that the government has been focused on.

Mixed in with the age debate is the federal government’s age assurance trial, funded in the May budget, the technical part of which hasn’t yet started.

The shadow minister for communications, David Coleman, pointed out on Tuesday:

Just today, the government has published on the AusTender website a request for tenders for the ‘Age Assurance Technology Trial 2024’. The tender does not close until October 7. This means that the earliest the trial could actually start would be some time later in October.

The trial will obviously take some time to complete. Rowland said the government would have the results “before the end of the year.”

When there are decisions finalised, the legislation will presumably need a period of consultation. Assuming it can be pulled together for introduction before Christmas, as the PM says, a consultation process or a Senate inquiry, or both, would likely push it into the new year.

The SA plan, so much further advanced, was not expected to be voted into law until next year, and that government does not have an election in sight.

Once the Albanese government gets into 2025, there is hardly any time left to pass legislation. The election is in May at the latest.

The SA government will pause its own plans as it gets behind the federal effort. If Canberra falters, SA would then go ahead later. So might other states.

On a worst case scenario, the risk is the Albanese government fails to have its legislation passed before the election, with great uncertainty left about what would be done, if anything, in the new term of federal parliament. The fallback could be a hodgepodge of state actions.

Michelle Grattan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. View from the Hill: Social media age ban all to the good, but can Albanese deliver before election? – https://theconversation.com/view-from-the-hill-social-media-age-ban-all-to-the-good-but-can-albanese-deliver-before-election-238686