Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Kylie Walker, Visiting Fellow, National Centre for the Public Awareness of Science, Australian National University

Emma Johnston, the Vice-Chancellor of the University of Melbourne who has died aged 52, was a marine ecologist, a visionary leader in science and research, a passionate champion of the environment, a brilliant and engaging communicator, and a caring mentor. Emma was also our friend.

Born in 1973 and raised in Melbourne, Emma’s star rose swiftly. Her success was driven by a deep love of science, problem-solving and teamwork. Dux of University High School in Melbourne (where there is now a house named after her), she ran the student newspaper and launched an environment group and recycling program.

After completing a PhD in marine ecology at the University of Melbourne, Emma became an associate lecturer at UNSW in 2001, where she built a thriving research group studying the impacts of pollution and climate change on marine and coastal ecosystems. In 2005 she established the Sydney Harbour Research Program, to understand and remediate that city’s great natural asset.

These themes of complexity, interdependence and ecosystem resilience would become guiding metaphors for her subsequent career as a research leader and a fierce advocate for science.

Emma believed research should be about teamwork rather than personal accolades. She supervised a remarkable 33 PhD students, as well as honours students and postdoctoral researchers, and she mentored countless colleagues throughout her career. Busy but never hurried, Emma was generous with her time and attention, and she loved meeting bright and curious people.

As a newly promoted professor, she was chosen to attend the 64th Lindau meeting of Nobel Laureates where she delivered the after-dinner speech.

Her research and science communication earned awards including the NSW Premier’s Award for Biological Sciences, the Australian Academy of Science’s inaugural Nancy Millis Medal for Women in Science and the Eureka Prize for Promoting Understanding of Science Research.

In 2018, she was made an Officer of the Order of Australia for her services to higher education and scientific research. She became a fellow of the Australian Academy of Technological Sciences and Engineering in 2019 and of the Australian Academy of Science in 2022.

Emma’s leadership has taken many forms. As president of the student union while at university, she delighted in political jousting and loud change-making. Each time she was underestimated in a new role, she was fond of reminding friends that her term as student union president had prepared her for even the cagiest reception.

As a presenter on TV show Coast Australia, her natural style and genuine delight at the wonders of the wild ocean resonated with audiences worldwide.

In 2017, Emma became president of Science & Technology Australia. While there, she helped establish the acclaimed Superstars of STEM program, which works to raise the profile of women and non-binary scientists, and became the organisation’s first president to address the National Press Club, where she proclaimed science’s potential to provide solutions for humanity’s problems.

At around the same time, she was appointed Dean of Science at UNSW, albeit after some initial reluctance about how the job would impinge on her time with her two young children. When her prospective employer offered her more money for childcare, she replied that she actually wanted to see her children, and that a better solution would be simply to not expect her to go to functions most nights of the week.

In February 2025, after a stint as Deputy Vice-Chancellor (Research) at the University of Sydney, Emma returned to her alma mater as Vice-Chancellor of the University of Melbourne. This appointment positioned her better than ever to work towards her dream of a resilient, informed and motivated citizenry that can weather the storms of climate upheaval and build a strong future for humanity and the planet.

As a member of the board of CSIRO and a governor of the Ian Potter Foundation, Emma’s leadership and impact on Australian research was broad.

She had a formidable clarity of purpose, and an abiding hope for humanity. Her resilience strategy for the University of Melbourne, finalised just weeks before her death on December 26 2025, was the first step in her ten-year plan to build an extraordinary, empowered and resilient Australia.

As director of the board of the Great Barrier Reef Marine Park Authority, Emma led the 2021 State of the Environment report for the Australian government. In it, she emphasised that the ocean could only absorb so much heat before it would reach catastrophic collapse. Emma wanted nothing less than to save the world, but – like the ocean – in the end she could only do so much.

Emma’s final months were marked by a fierce doubling-down on her mission – she understood she was running out of time. Only 52 years old when she died from complications associated with cancer, she still wasn’t done with parenting, with saving the oceans and the planet, with nurturing and uplifting the next generation, or with remaking the Australian research and higher education landscape.

In a recent voice memo to one of us (Kylie), she said:

What has driven me in my life is a deep love of the science, a love of working with people and helping them to flourish and achieve, and a desire to work with others to protect this world I was immersed in as a scientist. And in that, I feel I have gone well beyond what I ever set out to achieve.

Survived by her husband Sam and their two children, Emma Johnston truly was a leader for our age, a star whose light burned out too soon.

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. Emma Johnston was a visionary scientist, environmentalist and leader, with an abiding hope for humanity – https://theconversation.com/emma-johnston-was-a-visionary-scientist-environmentalist-and-leader-with-an-abiding-hope-for-humanity-272609

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Jemima McPhee, PhD Candidate (Classics), Australian National University

Ancient scientists can be easy to dismiss.

Greek philosopher Thales of Miletus, often described as the West’s first scientist, believed the whole Earth was suspended on water. Roman encyclopaedist Pliny the Elder recommended entrails, chicken brains, and mice cut in two as topical remedies for snakebite.

The lone ancient Greek thinker who believed Earth orbits the Sun – Aristarchus of Samos – was universally dismissed by his contemporaries.

Because these scientific beliefs are so different from our own, it may seem we have nothing to learn from long-dead scientists. However, thinkers 2,500 years ago already faced many problems that are today amplified by social media and artificial intelligence (AI), such as how to tell truth from fiction.

Here are five lessons from ancient Greek and Roman science that ring surprisingly true in the face of misinformation in the modern world.

1. Start with observations

Almost every ancient scientific text offers advice about observing or collecting data before making a decision. For example, in a 1st century CE text about astronomy, author Marcus Manilius explains that his scientific predecessors learned via detailed, long-term observations. He says

they observed the appearance of the whole night sky and watched every star return to its original place […] by doing this repeatedly, they built up their knowledge.

Ancient astronomers, Manilius says, would look around and gather evidence before drawing any conclusions. Greek and Roman scientists wanted their readers to do the same, and to be suspicious of any claims that are not backed up by data.

2. Think critically

Ancient scientists insisted their readers think critically, encouraging us to analyse the claims made by other people.

The Aetna is an anonymous text that explains how volcanoes work. Its unknown author warns readers about two potential sources of misinformation: other authors and other people.

Whether these groups intend to mislead their audiences or are simply misinformed, the book urges us to scrutinise their claims carefully and think about whether they are consistent with the evidence of our own senses and ratio (the Latin term for the powers of reasoning).

Ancient scientists encourage us to think critically about information we read or hear, because even well-meaning sources are not always accurate. Writers like the Aetna author want us to think before accepting other people’s claims.

3. Acknowledge what you don’t know

Another skill ancient scientists encourage is acknowledging our limits. Even Greek and Roman scientists who claimed to be experts in their field frequently admitted they didn’t have all the answers.

In On the Nature of Things, Roman philosopher Lucretius proposed three different explanations for solar eclipses:

1. the Moon passing in front of the Sun
2. some other opaque body passing in front of the Sun, or
3. the Sun’s light temporarily growing dim for some reason.

Lucretius says he cannot determine which is more likely without additional evidence. In fact, he says it would be “unscientific” to eliminate any of these theories just for the sake of appearing more certain.

Multiple explanations seem unsatisfactory to us because they make ancient scientists’ theories seem less precise. Yet writers like Lucretius should be praised for their honesty in admitting they simply don’t have all the answers.

Greek and Roman scientists knew that people who claim they have no doubts can be very persuasive. However, as Lucretius demonstrates, a source that acknowledges its limits may actually be more trustworthy.

4. Science is part of culture

An ancient medical text from the school of Hippocrates called On the Sacred Disease sought to explain the causes of epilepsy. Contrary to what the title might lead us to expect, the author argues vehemently that there is nothing “sacred” about epilepsy or any other illness, and is determined to discover its physical causes.

Ancient Greek doctors were divided on the causes of disease, and on whether they were supernatural or not. A patient might be given very different answers and advice depending on the perspective of the person they consulted.

Ancient thinkers understood that science was part of culture rather than separate from it, and that an individual’s beliefs and values will have a significant impact on the information they promote as “factual” or “truthful”. Greek and Roman scientists remind us about this because they want readers to think about where information is coming from.

5. Science is for everyone

Our Roman astronomer Manilius says the only essential for students of science is “a teachable mind”. In other words, the ability to acquire new knowledge is all about interest and willingness to learn, rather than possessing any innate skill.

The anonymous Aetna author says something similar: “Science is no place for genius.”

Ancient scientists understood the importance of deferring to specialists and listening to expert advice. However, they were also keen for their readers to understand where scientists acquire knowledge and how scientific facts can be verified.

These hard-won lessons about how to figure what’s true and what’s not helped build the foundations of modern scientific knowledge – and they can still help us navigate a world where truth is just as slippery as it was for ancient Greeks and Romans.

Jemima McPhee receives funding from an Australian Government Research Training Program (RTP) Scholarship.

– ref. 5 lessons about misinformation from ancient Greek and Roman scientists – https://theconversation.com/5-lessons-about-misinformation-from-ancient-greek-and-roman-scientists-270941

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Milad Haghani, Associate Professor and Principal Fellow in Urban Risk and Resilience, The University of Melbourne

For many of us, listening to music is simply part of the driving routine – as ordinary as wearing a seatbelt. We build playlists for road trips, pick songs to stay awake, and even turn the volume up when traffic gets stressful.

More than 80% of drivers listen to music on most trips. And many young drivers find it difficult to concentrate without it.

We tend to think music relaxes us, energises us, or helps us focus when we’re behind the wheel.

But the science paints a more complicated picture. Decades of studies show music can sharpen some aspects of driving and dull others. And it affects young drivers differently from more experienced ones.

How do researchers study driving and music?

Most studies use driving simulators, where participants drive through realistic road scenarios while researchers change only one thing: the music.

This allows precise measurement of indicators such as speed, reaction time, lane-keeping, braking, following distance, simulated collisions and even the driver’s physiological state under different music conditions.

Because everything else is held constant, any difference in driving performance can be attributed to the music.

Researchers have tested different music and driving scenarios in dozens of small studies – often with often conflicting conclusions. To make sense of these results, researchers combine them in “meta-analyses” to see broad patterns.

So how does music affect our driving?

Meta-analyses show music changes how we drive in several ways.

Drivers listening to music tended to have more simulated collisions, poorer speed control and less stable following distances than those driving in silence.

Other outcomes such as lane position, signalling errors and pure reaction time show more mixed or inconsistent effects.

Music often changes the driver’s heart rate and makes it more variable. It also increases their arousal and mental workload, meaning how mentally “busy” or stretched they are while trying to drive.

Music can also help tired drivers stay alert on long, monotonous stretches but only for a short window. The boost fades by about 15 to 25 minutes.

So music can make you feel better and more alert, for shorter distances, even while it’s adding extra cognitive load and competing with the main task of driving.

Does the volume and type of music matter?

Volume does influence driving, but the effects are more subtle than many assume.

High- and medium-volume music tend to nudge drivers’ speeds slightly upward, while low-volume music consistently leads to slower driving. These effects are small, but relatively consistent in direction.

Fast music has a bad reputation, but the pooled evidence is less clear-cut. One meta-analysis found no overall effect of tempo on driving performance for an average driver. But it’s slightly different if you’re a novice driver.

Individual studies still suggest that very high-arousal, aggressive tracks can nudge some drivers toward riskier behaviour and make them more prone to errors. But tempo by itself doesn’t neatly predict safety.

Music you choose yourself tends to be less distracting than music imposed on you. Drivers often select music to regulate their mood and arousal – and that can stabilise their driving.

Conversely, several experiments show researcher-selected or imposed music leads to poorer performance: more collisions and violations, especially when the driver doesn’t like the music.

So it’s not just the music itself, but your relationship with it, that shapes how it affects your driving. Familiar or preferred music tends to maintain mood and reduce stress without adding as much mental load.

Inexperienced drivers are more affected

Inexperienced drivers are more vulnerable to distraction from music.

One study of 20- to 28-year-old drivers found less-experienced drivers were far more disrupted by music than experienced drivers. When music was playing – especially upbeat, “happy” tracks – inexperienced drivers were much more likely to drift into speeding.

Experienced drivers didn’t, suggesting their experience acts as a buffer.

Another experiment found exposing young drivers to more aggressive genres such as metal or certain folk-pop led to higher speeds, more driving errors and reduced attention to road signs.

For novice drivers, fast-tempo music increased their mental load and reduced their ability to spot hazards. This meant they were slower or less accurate in their responses.

Slow music, on the other hand, didn’t raise inexperienced drivers’ mental load and even moderately improved their ability to respond to hazards.

So what does this mean for my driving?

For most people, familiar songs, calmer genres and moderate volumes tend to create the least interference, while still keeping you alert and in a good mood.

Extremely loud, unfamiliar or highly aggressive tracks are the ones most likely to push up your speed, distract you, or overload your thinking.

But if you’re a newer driver, try turning the volume down, or even switching the music off, in demanding conditions.

Read more:
Going on a road trip this summer? 4 reasons why you might end up speeding, according to psychology

Milad Haghani receives funding from The Australian government’s Office of Road Safety.

– ref. Music can affect your driving – but not always how you’d expect – https://theconversation.com/music-can-affect-your-driving-but-not-always-how-youd-expect-268887

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Johannes M. Luetz, Adjunct Professor, University of the Sunshine Coast; UNSW Sydney; Alphacrucis College

The millions of species humans share the world with are valuable in their own right. When one species is lost, it has a ripple effect throughout the ecosystems it existed within.

But there’s a hidden toll. Each loss takes something from humanity too. Extinction silences scientific insights, ends cultural traditions and snuffs out spiritual connections enriching human life.

For instance, when China’s baiji river dolphin vanished, local memory of it faded within a single generation. When New Zealand’s giant flightless moa were hunted to extinction, the words and body of knowledge associated with them began to fade.

In these ways, conservation is as much about safeguarding knowledge as it is about saving nature, as I suggest in my research.

We’re currently living through what scientists call the planet’s sixth mass extinction. Unlike earlier events triggered by natural catastrophes, today’s accelerating losses are overwhelmingly driven by human activities, from habitat destruction to introduced species to climate change. Current extinction rates are tens to hundreds of times higher than natural levels. The United Nations warns up to 1 million species may disappear this century, many within decades.

This extinction crisis isn’t just a loss to broader nature – it’s a loss for humans.

Lost to science

Extinction extinguishes the light of knowledge nowhere more clearly than in science.

Every species has a unique genetic code and ecological role. When it vanishes, the world loses an untapped reservoir of scientific knowledge – genetic blueprints, biochemical pathways, ecological relationships and even potential medical treatments.

The two species of gastric-brooding frog once lived in small patches of rainforest in Queensland. These extraordinary frogs could turn their stomachs into wombs, shutting down gastric acid production to safely brooding their young tadpoles internally. Both went extinct in the 1980s under pressure from human development and the introduced chytrid fungus. Their unique reproductive biology is gone forever. No other frog is known to do this.

Studying these biological marvels could have yielded insights into human conditions such as acid reflux and certain cancers. Ecologists Gerardo Ceballos and Paul Ehrlich called their extinctions a tragic loss for science, lamenting: “Now they are lost to us as experimental models”. Efforts at de-extinction have so far not succeeded.

Biodiversity holds immense potential for breakthroughs in medicine, agriculture, materials and even climate change. As species vanish, the library of life shrinks, and with it, the vault of future human discoveries.

Lost to culture

Nature is deeply woven through many human cultures. First Nations people living on traditional lands hold detailed knowledge of local species in language, story and ceremony. Many urban residents orient their lives around local birds, trees, rivers and parks.

When species decline or vanish, the songs, stories, experiences and everyday practices built around them can thin out or disappear.

Extinction erodes our sense of companionship with the natural world and diminishes the countless small interactions with other species which help root our lives in joy, wonder and reverence.

The bioacoustics researcher Christopher Clark has likened extinction to an orchestra gradually falling silent:

everywhere there is life, there is song. The planet is singing – everywhere. But what’s happening is we’re killing the voices […] It’s like [plucking] the instruments out of the orchestra … and then it’s gone

One haunting example of a vanished voice comes from Hawaii. In 2023, a small black-and-yellow songbird, the Kauaʻi ʻōʻō, was declared extinct. All that’s left is a last recording, where the last male sings for a female who will never come.

Disturbingly, birdsong is declining worldwide, diminishing the richness of our shared sensory world.

From an ecocentric perspective, each loss leaves the whole community of companion species poorer – humans included. Scientists call this the “extinction of experience”. As biologist David George Haskell writes, extinction is leaving the future:

an impoverished sensory world […] less vital, blander.

The loss of species is not only an ecological crisis but also a rupture in the communion of life – a deep injury to the bonds uniting beings.

Loss of spiritual knowledge

For many communities, nature is imbued with sacred meaning. Often, particular species or ecosystems hold deep spiritual significance.

Australia’s Great Barrier Reef is venerated by Indigenous custodians, whose traditions describe it as part of a sacred, living seascape. As the reef’s biodiversity declines under climate stress, these spiritual connections are eroding, diminishing the sources of wonder, reverence and existential orientation which help define human belonging in the world – across and beyond faith traditions.

Some ecotheological traditions regard nature as a book – a way to reveal divine truth alongside scripture. Nature holds deep significance for the varied communities and traditions viewing the land and its creatures as sentient, interconnected and sacred.

Extinction weakens nature’s capacity to embody transcendent meaning. The natural world dims and dulls, leaving us with fewer opportunities to experience awe, beauty and a sense of the sacred. In this sense, extinction is more than biological loss. It severs spiritual ties between human and other beings in ways transcending worldviews.

How do we grieve extinction?

Extinctions often evoke grief, which is a way of knowing through feeling. Grieving a lost species points to the scale of the loss across scientific, cultural and spiritual dimensions.

For Indigenous communities, this grief can be profound, born of deep environmental attachment. Scientists and conservationists witness cascading losses and bear the burden of foresight. Their grief may trigger anxiety, burnout and sorrow. But mourning the lost also makes the crisis tangible.

Grieving for extinct life isn’t pointless. It can compel us to look closely at what remains, to recognise the intrinsic value of a species and to resist reducing biodiversity to its instrumental uses. This kind of mourning carries the seeds of ecological responsibility, inviting us to protect life not just for our purposes but because of its irreplaceable role in the communion of life.

Johannes M. Luetz 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. With every extinction, we lose not just a species but a treasure trove of knowledge – https://theconversation.com/with-every-extinction-we-lose-not-just-a-species-but-a-treasure-trove-of-knowledge-263717

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Catherine E. Wood, Associate Professor and Clinical Psychologist, Swinburne University of Technology

At this time of the year, with lots of parties, family catch-ups and holiday plans, you might be reminded of how much you love your friends.

But as their kids pester for screen time, drop chips everywhere and run screaming around the house, you may also be reminded of how you don’t have the same affection for their kids.

Why is this?

This tension can happen for several reasons. If you don’t have your own kids or are not able to have them, having friends with children may create grief or sadness.

Or children might represent a change in the dynamic of the friendship. You can’t talk over coffee without an interruption or go out for wine on a Friday night without the kids slipping into most of the conversation.

Or the kids might have some characteristics that rub you the wrong way. Perhaps you don’t like how they interact with your kids. Or maybe you are just genuinely annoyed by what you see as their demanding or chaotic behaviour. It’s not cool when they jump on your couch with their dirty shoes or forget your cat does not like to be poked.

What are your expectations?

Your intolerance can stem from our own expectations of how children should be parented. This is often based on our experiences of being parented and then how we, in turn, parent our own kids. In response to this we can consciously or unconsciously expect others to follow our expectations about kids.

For example, you might have been raised in a household where evening meals were eaten at the same time each night around the dining table, and you created the same ritual in your home. Your friends might have more fluid meal times.

The intolerance to your friends’ kids can go across different developmental stages.

When kids are little, they might be too excited or noisy around your kids. Or your friend might disappear halfway through dinner to put their child to bed and you don’t see them again because the child does not settle.

Teenagers may be constantly messaging their parent asking for lifts, food or where their phone charger is. Or your friend might be constantly texting their children to see where they are and what they’re up to.

Do you end up cancelling plans?

Your strong responses to your friend’s children might create some unspoken ambivalence to catch up with your friends. You might find yourself cancelling planned catch-ups or continually putting them off.

Tensions within the friendship might appear. Particularly if you decide to give your friend feedback about their kids, or tell their kids off yourself. In extreme cases, the friendship might end.

How can you keep the friendship going?

Friendships, like all other relationships, take patience and work. So, finding the same patience for your friend’s children is very important.

It can also be helpful to set some boundaries for yourself, which might look like having a catch-up when the children are not around or keeping the catch-up time limited.

If it’s your house, you can set boundaries around behaviour. For example, your bedroom is off-limits for hide-and-seek. Or no shoes on the couch. But try to avoid telling your friends what you don’t like about their children’s behaviour.

If you are asked for parenting advice, separate the child from their behaviour and start with some positives. Rather than “Archie is annoying and should be told to stop whining,” say “Poor Archie, he seems to be so tired, it has been such a long day of activities”.

If you all have kids, but just parent them differently, it might be that you have to exercise tolerance and acceptance for different parenting styles. Most parents are doing the best they can with the resources and supports they have, which sometimes are tested.

Remember the context

When we think about children’s behaviour, we also need to think about the context. There might be some very valid reasons why the child is behaving in a certain way, and these reasons might not yet be known to us.

Behaviour in children is not random – it is usually a vehicle to communicate something is going on, a need is not being met, or a worry that cannot be conveyed in words.

For example, they might be having a hard time at school, there might be tension in the parents’ relationship or there might be temperamental, medical and/or diagnostic reasons for the behaviour.

So hold curiosity, kindness and compassion as these qualities will help bridge the road back to love for your friends and love for their children (at least most of the time!).

Catherine E. Wood 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. I love my friends … I do not love their kids – https://theconversation.com/i-love-my-friends-i-do-not-love-their-kids-272072

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Angelique Nadia Sweetman McInnes, Academic in Financial Planning, CQUniversity Australia

Christmas lunch is over, all the presents are unwrapped. Now comes the hard part: paying for it all.

If you’re in that position, you’re not alone. Personal credit and charge-card balances racking up interest hit a four-year high of A$18.4 billion in September this year – even before the Black Friday and Christmas sales.

Last year, a survey for the Australian Securities and Investments Commission (ASIC) found almost half of Australian adults with debt had struggled to make repayments in the past 12 months.

That same survey for ASIC found Millennials aged in their late 20s to early 40s were the generation most likely to experience financial hardship. Yet most were unaware of their right to apply for hardship help through their lender.

Especially at this time of year, it’s easy to rack up big bills on credit cards or buy now, pay later payments. Here’s what you need to know about starting to repay those common debts, especially if you have more than one loan.

Watch the interest on your credit card

Over recent years, credit has overtaken cash to be the second most popular way to buy things in Australia, behind only debit cards, which tend to have lower checkout fees.

If you’re able to repay the full balance each month, buying on credit is not necessarily a problem.

But more than one in three (36%) of Australians have unpaid credit card bills accruing interest, according to a Roy Morgan survey of more than 22,000 credit card holders published in November. That survey found the median amount owed with interest was $1,037. People paying off mortgages tended to owe more: $1,342.

According to Reserve Bank of Australia, average interest rates on credit cards at the end of October were up to 20.99% a year. In contrast, low-rate cards charge 13.49% per year. That’s a big difference. So choosing the right card can save you a lot in interest repayments.

One of the ways people often get into trouble is by not reading and understanding the product disclosure statement, which sets out the credit terms, then finding their credit use is stretching their budget too far.

The rise of buy now, pay later

Buy now, pay later lets you buy a product immediately, while delaying the repayments – sometimes over just a few weeks, but potentially over longer periods.

Almost a third of Australians were already using it by mid-2023.

But overseas research suggests people who use buy-now, pay-later services – especially, younger shoppers and those with lower incomes – end up spending more online than those who don’t.

Read more:
Research suggests those who use buy-now-pay-later services end up spending more

How to start reining in your debts

Don’t beat yourself up over your holiday spending. Anxiety, shame and feelings of failure can stop people getting help. So forgive yourself – then start taking control of your money.

Contact your bank or lender’s financial hardship team to get out of high interest loans as soon as possible. Under the law, lenders have to respond to your request for help.

Switch to a zero or low-rate card, or refinance with a lower cost personal bank loan. Then look at negotiating a suitable payment plan with the loan provider based on your income and what you have available after necessary expenses.

While paying off your debt, actively visit comparison websites and compare credit card interest rates and offers. Sometimes credit card companies offer interest-free periods if you refinance your existing credit card balance with them.

The 2024 ASIC survey found many Australians are so reluctant to apply for financial hardship assistance that they would rather sell belongings (42%) or get a second job (40%) first. Don’t avoid seeking assistance – but both of those ideas may help too.

To lighten your debt burden, sell or return any unwanted gifts or unused items.

Read more:
Can you return gifts without a receipt or packaging? A legal expert explains

If you feel comfortable, you can also ask your employer for extra paid hours, or to sell back some of your annual leave.

If it’s not a conflict with your main job, consider taking on a second job outside work, such as weekend, night or public holiday shifts to take advantage of penalty or overtime rates.

Talk to family and friends. Whether you ask for money or not – and that can be tricky for everyone – don’t keep your debts a secret.

Where to get more help

Free, confidential financial or personal support is available from:

• the National Debt Helpline is open Monday to Friday, 9:30am to 4:30pm. Call 1800 007 007. Or live online chat, Monday to Friday, 9am to 8pm. Closed public holidays.

• emergency financial assistance services Australia-wide.

• the Pro Bono Financial Advice Network offers help for people with serious illness or disability who are experiencing significant financial hardship.

• Way Forward, Monday to Friday, 9am to 7pm. Call 1300 045 502. This is a free, not-for-profit service for people needing help with a debt repayment plan.

• Lifeline Australia is a 24-hour crisis support service. Call 13 11 14.

Disclaimer: This article provides general information only and is not intended as financial advice.

Angelique McInnes is a member and consults on the Financial Advice Association Australia Practice Standards Review 2025 and serves on their Financial Planning Education Council as a committee member. She is a member of organisations including the Accounting and Finance Association of Australia and New Zealand (AFAANZ). She has received funding from AFAANZ and CQUniversity.

– ref. Deep in holiday debt? How to start repaying overdue credit and buy now, pay later bills – https://theconversation.com/deep-in-holiday-debt-how-to-start-repaying-overdue-credit-and-buy-now-pay-later-bills-270071

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Ben McCann, Associate Professor of French Studies, University of Adelaide

Brigitte Bardot’s death, at the age of 91, brings to a close one of the most extraordinary careers in post-war French cultural life.

Best known as an actress, she was also a singer, a fashion icon, an animal rights activist and a symbol of France’s sexual liberation.

Famous enough to be known by her initials, B.B. symbolised a certain vision of French femininity – rebellious and sensual, yet vulnerable.

Her impact on beauty standards and French national identity was profound. At her peak, she rivalled Marilyn Monroe in global fame and recognition. Simone de Beauvoir, France’s leading feminist writer, famously wrote in 1959 that Bardot “appears as a force of nature, dangerous so long as she remains untamed”.

A star is born

Bardot was born in 1934 to a well-off Parisian family. Raised in a strict Catholic household, she studied ballet at the Conservatoire de Paris with hopes of becoming a professional dancer.

Her striking looks led her to modelling. By 14, she was appearing in Elle magazine, catching the eye of director Roger Vadim, whom she married in 1952.

She began acting in the early 1950s and her appearance as Juliette in Vadim’s And God Created Woman (Et Dieu… créa la femme, 1956) put her on the map.

Bardot was instantly catapulted to international stardom. Vadim presented his wife as the ultimate expression of youthful, erotic freedom that both shocked and captivated French audiences.

Watching this relatively tame film today, it’s difficult to imagine just how taboo-breaking Bardot’s performance was. But in sleepy Catholic, conservative 1950s France, it set new norms for on-screen sexuality.

The film became a global phenomenon. Critics loved it, but censors and religious groups grew nervous.

An 60s icon

Bardot’s lack of formal training as an actress paradoxically became part of her appeal: she adopted a spontaneous acting approach, as much physical as verbal.

She was stunning in Contempt (Le Mépris, 1963), Jean-Luc Godard’s masterpiece about a crumbling marriage. Godard used her beauty and fame both as spectacle and critique. The film’s most famous sequence was a 31-minute conversation between Bardot and her co-star Michel Piccoli. Bardot was never better.

In Henri-Georges Clouzot’s intense courtroom drama The Truth (La Vérité, 1960), she showcased her dramatic range playing a young woman on trial for the murder of her lover.

In 1965, she co-starred with Jeanne Moreau in Louis Malle’s Long Live Maria (Viva Maria), a rare female buddy film that blended comedy and political satire. Bardot’s anarchic energy remains a dazzling feat.

A Very Private Affair (Vie privée, 1962) saw her portray a woman consumed by fame and chased by the media. The plotline was eerily predictive of Bardot’s own future.

She popularised fashion trends like the choucroute hairstyle and ballet flats. The Bardot neckline – off-the-shoulder tops and dresses – was named after her. She even wore pink gingham at her 1959 wedding.

Allure and provocation

Bardot’s star appeal lay in her contradictions. She appeared simultaneously natural and provocative, spontaneous and calculated. Her dishevelled glamour and effortless sexuality helped construct the archetype of the modern “sex kitten”.

She famously said “it is better to be unfaithful than to be faithful without wanting to be”.

Throwing off the shackles of bourgeois morality, Bardot epitomised a commitment to emotional and sexual freedom. Her turbulent love life was a case in point. She was married four times, with dozens of stormy relationships and extra-marital affairs along the way.

Forever immortalised as a free-spirited ingénue, Bardot was a muse for filmmakers, artists and musicians, from Andy Warhol to Serge Gainsbourg. Later on, Kate Moss, Amy Winehouse and Elle Fanning mentioned Bardot as an inspiration.

Famously, Bardot never succumbed to cosmetic surgery. As she once noted:

Women should embrace ageing because, at the end of the day, it’s much more beautiful to have a grandmother with white hair who looks like an elderly lady than to have a grandmother who’s bleached, dyed, and […] who looks much older but also really unhappy.

Life after the movies

Bardot retired from acting in 1973, aged only 39, citing disillusionment with fame. “It suffocated and destroyed me”, she said, about the film industry.

She shifted her attention to animal rights, founding the Brigitte Bardot Foundation in 1986. She became an uncompromising, vocal activist, campaigning against animal cruelty, fur farming, whaling and bullfighting.

But Bardot courted controversy from the mid-1990s for her far-right political views, remarks about Islam and immigration and repeated convictions for inciting racial hatred. She publicly defended disgraced actor Gérard Depardieu and pushed back on the #MeToo movement in France.

Such statements damaged her reputation, especially outside France, and created a troubling image: the once-liberating sex symbol now associated with nationalist conservatism.

While she never identified as a feminist, her unapologetic autonomy, early retirement and outspoken views led some to re-evaluate her as a figure of proto-feminist rebellion.

France gradually began to turn against Bardot, bothered by her outspoken views. But some applauded her couldn’t-care-less attitude and unwillingness to play by the rules.

Ultimately, by rejecting fame on her own terms, she parlayed her 50s free-spiritedness into a bold stand against conformity and societal norms.

Late in life, she told Danièle Thompson, the writer-director of the 2023 mini-series about her career, “I don’t understand why the whole world is still talking about me”.

The answer is simple – Bardot continues to fascinate us, flaws and all.

Ben McCann 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. Brigitte Bardot defined the modern woman and defied social norms – https://theconversation.com/brigitte-bardot-defined-the-modern-woman-and-defied-social-norms-261659