We’ve all become familiar with virus mutations over the course of the pandemic, and can all probably list off the COVID variants including Alpha, Delta and Omicron. But now we’re hearing more and more about subvariants, as Omicron mutates into Omicron BA.2, Omicron BA.4, Omicron XE, and more.
We know the virus is mutating as it spreads, but when is a new mutation a new variant, and when is it a subvariant? And what happens when they combine?
When cells reproduce, they use a set of genetic instructions (made of DNA or RNA) to replicate. But given this is happening at such a rapid rate, sometimes errors can occur.
These errors, or changes in the genetic code, are also called mutations.
In complex organisms such as humans, we are pretty good at finding and fixing these mistakes. But when these finding and fixing processes fail, we see diseases such as cancer arise.
When mistakes happen during the copying of the genetic material in viruses, most of them leave the genetic material too broken to go on replicating, and that virus doesn’t survive.
Occasionally, by random chance, these errors can happen in a section of the code that allows the virus to survive, and in the process, changes occur in the virus.
When it’s in a part of the virus that determines how it behaves, it can change the properties of the virus.
It may change the severity of the disease it causes, our ability to diagnose the virus with our current tests, or even how well treatments work.
Since it was first reported in the Chinese city of Wuhan in December 2019, there have been more than 520 million recorded cases of COVID worldwide (and probably many more unrecorded cases). That’s a lot of virus replication, and a lot of opportunities for these types of changes to occur.
One of the reasons we have heard so much about these types of changes is our access to genomic sequencing, to determine the genetic code of the virus. This has allowed us to find even small changes in the 30,000-letter code of the virus, essentially in real time.
When these changes are found, the new virus can be described in many ways, mostly depending on how different the genetic code and the resulting properties of the virus are from the parent virus from which it arose.
Some terms also essentially mean the same thing and can be used interchangeably, depending on what field someone works in. While there are many agreed terms that are commonly used, there are not simple universal definitions.
What are variants? Are they different to strains?
A variant is where the genetic code has changed due to a mutation, or a number of mutations. A variant, while different genetically, does not necessarily differ in its behaviour from the parent virus.
The virus that causes COVID is a single species of coronavirus named SARS-CoV-2. For many other viruses (and other organisms), there are multiple “strains” where there have been very significant changes not only in the genetic code, but also in the biological properties and behaviour of the virus. Similarly, all dogs are the same species but there are different breeds, which look and act very differently.
Some researchers would say that so far there has not been a type of SARS-CoV-2 found that differs sufficiently to meet this definition, hence, for now, there is only one strain.
Other researchers, however, have suggested the variants that have displayed different behaviours satisfy the definition of being different strains.
Others again say a new variant that becomes dominant in a population earns the right to be called a strain.
What about variants of ‘interest’ and ‘concern’?
To describe the impact of the genetic changes on the behaviour of the virus, there have been a range of different types of variants described.
In collaboration with expert networks, in late 2020, given the emergence of variants that posed an increased risk, the World Health Organization (WHO) characterised “variants of interest” and “variants of concern”.
According to these WHO definitions, a “variant of interest” is a variant with genetic changes that are known or predicted to affect important virus characteristics. These include transmissibility, disease severity, protection from immune responses, reduced ability to find with diagnostic tests, or reduced effect of treatment.
To become a variant of concern, a new variant must also have been identified to cause significant transmission and be thought to pose an emerging risk to public health.
Basically, once the potential concerning property that made it a variant of interest has been found to be the case, a variant of interest will then become known as a “variant of concern”.
What are subvariants?
Omicron has been shown to be more infectious than its predecessors, hence has spread swiftly worldwide. Given the resulting abundant opportunities to reproduce, Omicron has had the opportunity to acquire specific mutations of its own.
These have not been deemed significant enough to satisfy the definitions to call them new variants. However, they have had some slightly different properties.
For this reason they have been referred to as “subvariants”. Initially we saw BA.2 arise, which was found to be slightly more infectious than the original Omicron, BA.1
There are now a large number of Omicron subvariants, including BA.4, BA.5 and BA.2.12.1. BA.4 was detected in January and is essentially a mixture of BA.1 and BA.3 with some new mutations, making it slightly more infectious than preceding subvariants.
When viruses reproduce inside host cells, they can randomly collect pieces from multiple strains or variants when they reproduce, if the host cell happens to contain both strains or variants.
Given this is basically forming a combination of both virus this process is called recombination. When this happens, the resulting “recombinant” can have properties of either or both viruses.
Paul Griffin 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.
From February to May 2022, many places in Queensland, New South Wales and Western Australia have seen record-breaking daily and monthly rainfall. Repeated periods of persistent and intense rain have caused devastating and widespread floods.
In Queensland and New South Wales alone, the floods and storms caused an estimated AU$3.35 billion in insured losses, making these the costliest floods in Australia’s history and the fifth most costly natural disaster. More than 20 people lost their lives.
Similar events have occurred around the Southern Hemisphere. Brazil was hit with heavy rain, flash flooding and landslides in February and March, killing more than 200 people. In April and May it was South Africa’s turn, as torrential downpours destroyed homes and infrastructure, resulting in some 400 deaths and US$1.5 billion in property damage.
Behind most of these intense rain events lies a particular combination of weather conditions: a “cut-off low” over the coast, pinned in place by a “blocking high” out to sea. This configuration itself is not uncommon, but this year’s repeated events and their high impact have been unusual.
What caused the extreme rainfall this year?
Outside the tropics, weather is mainly driven by what are called “Rossby waves” or “planetary waves”. These are wiggles in the jet stream, which is a band of strong winds the upper atmosphere that goes right around the globe.
When winds are displaced to the north or south by mountains or weather systems, they can push part of the jet stream out of its normal position. This undulation in the jet stream is a Rossby wave.
Rossby waves usually then move eastward, guided by the jet stream. Under the right conditions the waves can amplify and break, just like ocean waves at the shore.
When this happens, the breaking wave can form a region of high pressure air at ground level, which may stay in one place for some time. This high-pressure region can in turn cause other weather systems (such as low-pressure systems bearing rain) to stall over one location.
Stalled weather systems that stay put for a long time can lead to prolonged downpours, but also to lengthy heat waves.
During the flooding on the east coast of Australia, an amplifying Rossby wave formed a high-pressure system over the Tasman Sea, as well as a low-pressure region in the upper atmosphere known as a “cut-off low”.
This setup provided the two ingredients required for rain: a supply of moisture, in the form of easterly winds around the high carrying moist air from the ocean to the land; and a mechanism to lift that moisture, provided by the presence of the cut-off low. As the low moved between southern Queensland and northern New South Wales, so did the rain.
The same fingerprint was also seen during the floods in South Africa and Brazil. For the flood events in south-west Western Australia, the moist onshore flow was boosted by a low between the coast and the high to the west over the Indian Ocean.
What does climate change mean for these events?
One of the most difficult challenges for atmospheric scientists is understanding how global warming will change the weather at the regional scale.
Weather forecasts are a crucial tool for mitigating the effects of extreme weather, providing predictions of such events up to a week in advance. Accurate forecasts are vital to afford critical time for response mobilisation, such as warnings, evacuations and deployment of emergency services.
At present, the El Niño–Southern Oscillation, a measure of sea surface temperatures in the Pacific Ocean, is in the La Niña phase for the second year in a row. La Niña is associated with rainier-than-normal conditions over north-eastern Australia, south-eastern Africa and northern Brazil.
In addition, global warming is likely to lead to more intense rainfall because warmer air can hold more moisture. However, we still have a lot to learn about where that rain is likely to fall, and how frequent and intense the rainfall is likely to be.
To understand how extreme weather like this year’s Southern Hemisphere deluges will change as the climate warms, we must understand the underlying physical processes responsible for their development.
At present, different climate models show different things about what climate change means for Rossby waves and wave breaking. The models don’t yet have high enough resolution to explicitly include some of the detailed physical processes related to rainfall, jet streams and Rossby waves.
While the models agree that climate change will alter the position and speed of the jet stream winds, they disagree about what will happen to Rossby waves. Investment in the research necessary to answer these questions is therefore imperative.
Tess Parker receives funding from the Australian Research Council through the Centre of Excellence for Climate Extremes.
Michael Barnes receives funding from the Australian Research Council through the Centre of Excellence for Climate Extremes.
New treasurer Jim Chalmers has been in multiple briefings since Sunday, and the message he sends in this podcast is that he is not going to try to gild the economic lily with the Australian community.
He intends to deliver a “pretty blunt, pretty frank” assessment of Australia’s challenges in an economic statement to parliament soon after it returns in June or July.
Chalmers highlights two particularly “spiky” bits of Australia’s inflation problem that are under “extreme pressure” at the moment – power prices and the building industry as the cost of materials rise.
Ahead of his first budget planned for October, Chalmers reaffirms he is “highly unlikely” to be able to renew the temporary six-month cut in petrol excise when it expires in September.
If there was “more we can responsibly do, we will”, but people shouldn’t assume that the cost of living relief in the March budget will continue forever.
Meanwhile Chalmers and finance minister Katy Gallagher are already combing through the numbers to get savings from areas they identify as wasteful spending.
He also speaks about the employment summit planned for early in Labor’s term – which he wants to have a “broad focus” – and cautions against assuming the unemployment rate (at present 3.9%) will be “on a kind of a permanent downward trajectory” given rising interest rates and international uncertainly.
He raises the prospect of changes to the Reserve Bank’s mandate which at present encompasses full employment and price stability, saying that would a matter for an inquiry he promised in opposition and will shortly set up.
Michelle Grattan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Imogene Smith, Casual academic, provisional psychologist and Doctor of Psychology (Clinical) candidate, Deakin University
For many dads, having a child is unplanned. What happens next can vary. One man said:
We broke up and she called me soon after to tell me she was pregnant […] she just asked me if I wanted to be in our baby’s life and I accepted without thinking twice.
Another said:
I wanted to have an abortion, since we weren’t ready, but it wasn’t my choice, it was hers […] but the resentment was there for a long time.
These two comments came from tens of thousands of posts on the social media site Reddit we analysed as part of our research into men’s experiences of unplanned pregnancy.
Having an unplanned child is more common than you might think. In Australia 40% of pregnancies are mis-timed, unexpected or unwanted. That’s an estimate comparable with rates worldwide.
Most research on the impact of unplanned pregnancies focuses on mothers. We wanted to know about the experiences of dads. So we turned to two forums specifically for new and expecting dads on Reddit.
We “scraped” tens of thousands of posts, spanning a year, then applied an innovative machine learning technique to group the data into meaningful topics. This allowed us to identify themes in the men’s online discussions.
Our research showed men who reluctantly or unexpectedly became fathers experienced a complex range of emotions and reactions. Many needed support.
The dads in our study posted to Reddit using pseudonyms. So they were free to be honest and raw as they shared their emotions on a topic many consider taboo.
Some were “filled with regret”, “sadness”, “guilt” and hopelessness of a “never-ending, soul-crushing grind”. Some lacked bonds with their infants, one feeling “like the tin man without a heart”.
One man said:
I keep on having really bad breakdown episodes. There are days when I just sit and cry thinking how miserable my life has become.
Unplanned fatherhood and postnatal depression
Earlier research shows it’s common for dads to have short periods of negative thoughts after their baby is born. Feelings of loss about their previous life are common.
However, persistent negative and intense emotions may indicate depression and anxiety at this time.
In fact, unintended fatherhood is linked to an increasedrisk of a man having postnatal depression.
Paternal depression is, in turn, linked to a higher risk of depression in their partners and more behavioural problems in their children.
Like earlier research, ours debunks the myth that men do not seek help when in need. Men sought and received advice and support from other dads about everything from night feeds and nappies to reassurance that what they were feeling was normal.
Studies show peer support, often online, can be a foot-in-the-door for men who feel uncomfortable disclosing vulnerability. This is particularly important for a taboo subject such as unwanted parenthood.
In our study, not all men were distressed. Some reported feeling happy “but freaking out” and simultaneously “scared, hopeful, excited, terrified”.
Sharing experiences allowed these fathers to validate and normalise the full spectrum of their emotions and sometimes re-frame a sense of hopelessness.
Men told each other “you are not alone”, “I felt the same”, “it does get better” and “it’s not as bad as people say”.
In this study and our earlier research men said they were concerned that not wanting children would be seen as abnormal.
We hope our work raises awareness that desire for children is not universal. We can do more to normalise and destigmatise varied narratives that represent how people feel about parenthood.
When it comes to family planning, a first step is to include men in discussions about reproductive health before they become fathers and are expecting a child.
Pre-conception planning with health professionals involves becoming physically and psychologically ready for parenthood and is important for mothers, fathers and, ultimately, their offspring.
When fathers have access to the right help at the right time, it can make all the difference. One man said:
I ended up going to a psychiatrist after a suicide attempt. It did some good, it faced me with my own immaturity. May I suggest trying it? Everybody is different, but it seriously helped in my case.
If this article has raised issues for you, or if you’re concerned about someone you know, call Lifeline on 13 11 14.
Jacqui Macdonald is convener of the Australian Fatherhood Research Consortium.
Imogene Smith 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.
A minor culture war has broken out over Auckland’s urban identity since Auckland Council responded to the government’s new housing rules: on one side, defenders of “special character” areas of historic housing; on the other, advocates for higher-density development with fewer constraints.
The debate can be heated, as people identify with their city in different ways and want different outcomes for its future.
To recap, the recently passed Resource Management (Enabling Housing Supply and Other Matters) Amendment Act seeks to ease the housing crisis by setting “medium-density residential standards” (MDRS) across all of Aotearoa’s major cities. This allows three storeys and three dwellings per site in all residential areas – except where councils can demonstrate “qualifying matters” apply.
In response, Auckland Council has identified “special character” as a qualifying matter that would shield parts of the city from MDRS intensification. But it also reduced special character coverage by about 25% to carve out room for inner-suburban intensification.
A key line of argument against reducing special character protection involves the importance of Auckland’s old housing neighbourhoods – with their Victorian and Edwardian villas and bungalows – to the city’s “identity”.
Appeals to collective identity can pack a pretty powerful punch when it comes to influencing urban decision-making, so they need to scrutinised whenever they’re asserted.
Identity politics
The preservation of our cities’ built form is not a politically neutral remembrance of yesteryear for future generations. Just as history is written by the victors, decisions about what is important to collective identity have always been made by those with the power to decide.
It’s worth remembering that Auckland’s first formal protection of historic places in the 1950s occurred in the same decade as the Crown seized the last papakāinga (Māori housing on ancestral land) of Ngāti Whātua Ōrākei at Ōkahu Bay, part of preparations for a visit from the queen.
Buildings like Mission Bay’s Melanesian Mission were preserved and Ngāti Whātua Ōrākei’s remaining ancestral homes were demolished for closely related reasons – preserving “historical interest and natural beauty” on the one hand, and removing “an eyesore” on the other.
Two decades later, as Auckland Council first created zoning controls to protect “areas of special character”, Ngāti Whātua Ōrākei protesters were occupying Takaparawhau/Bastion Point to oppose the Crown’s plans to develop high-income housing on their remnant rohe (tribal district).
While it may be convenient to hold these two legacies separately, it’s an important reminder that buildings have the power to reinforce dominant expressions of identity – and to silence others.
New kinds of heritage
Uneven power is nothing new for Māori in Aotearoa’s cities, and it increasingly plays a role in intergenerational tension as young adults excluded from home ownership – or even an affordable place to rent – challenge the entitlement of those invested in the status quo.
It’s telling that young adults are commonly identifying what used to be called “historic” houses as “colonial” houses, a deliberate word shift from neutral to political. It’s also a recognition that built form, like identity itself, does not have a fixed meaning.
Auckland’s population is getting younger and more culturally diverse. These trends present an opportunity for new ways of making a future heritage for the city. Cultures, communities and different age groups need be celebrated by more than just festivals, arts and sports. They must be built into new neighbourhoods that can permanently house and home them.
This is already happening in projects such as Ngāti Whātua Ōrākei’s Kāinga Tuatahi residential development on tribal land, and COHAUS, a high-density co-housing development in Grey Lynn. Special character may be a part of Tāmaki Makaurau’s identity, but it’s time for other versions of urban life to be recognised too.
What identity are we celebrating?
After all, what are now considered special character areas largely began as part of Auckland’s “ordinary” story – places on the tramlines where people built a house, put down roots, aspired to a stable and prosperous future.
According to Auckland Council, their built character “shows past social values, influences, fashions and philosophies that have shaped Auckland over time”. What they now most obviously highlight, however, is Auckland’s divide between rich and poor.
It’s no coincidence special character suburbs are some of Tāmaki Makaurau’s most expensive, commanding a price premium precisely because of the expectation their historical look and feel will be retained.
Also, because of its emphasis on pre-1940s housing, the “special character” designation is almost entirely absent from the city’s poorer areas.
According to the council, special character areas “have importance to people beyond those who live there” due to the role they play in illustrating the history of the city. That may be true, but it’s also important to acknowledge that urban areas are overwhelmingly experienced by those who live there, not by those passing through.
While historic residential neighbourhoods may be part of the city’s broad identity, it is the residents of special character areas who really get to experience their qualities. The good tree cover, proximity to the central business district, high-quality outdoor spaces and access to public transport are in stark contrast to other parts of Tāmaki Makaurau.
And yet most of the densification burden will be directed into communities already lacking nature, amenity and infrastructure.
The next two decades will decide Auckland’s future identity. The council’s response to the government’s new directives go some way to opening up new possibilities, but more will be needed to stop social and spatial fragmentation being baked into its character.
Making space, in both the decision-making and the built environment, for radical priorities – housing people, transport reform, reforesting urban spaces – will be essential in forging an identity that brings meaning and security for more people who call Tāmaki Makaurau home.
Carolyn Hill 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.
Political Roundup: Grant Robertson’s “sweet moderation”
Grant Robertson is a big fan of British socialist folk-punk singer Billy Bragg. The finance minister even wrote an opinion column last year that started and ended with lyrics from Bragg’s iconic song “Between the Wars”, with its key line “Sweet moderation; Heart of this nation”. Robertson titled his column, “We can be a nation of sweet moderation – but only if we keep working at it”.
The Finance Minister and Deputy Prime Minister appropriated Bragg’s “sweet moderation” line as a justification in the face of criticisms that his government had become moderate rather than “transformational”. In fact, his column sought to paint rising political discontent and anger as being dangerous and something for all to condemn. In contrast to radicalism, he claimed that his type of “sweet moderation” was all about “giving everyone a fair suck of the sav” – i.e. a very down-to-earth way of signalling a vague sense of egalitarianism.
What Robertson misses about Bragg’s song is that it’s actually a critique of politicians like Robertson, who fail to side with the poor. Bragg’s song calls for a proper welfare state “from the cradle to the grave”, and it criticises governments who deny workers “a living wage”. The character in the song recalls: “As times got harder; I looked to the government to help the working man”, but the Government failed to help the poor and instead helped the wealthy.
This is, of course, what Labour has generally done since 2017. And yet again, it’s what Robertson did last week with his Budget that did very little for the poor and working class, but which was well received by business.
Its key initiative was a $350 payment to those in the so-called “squeezed middle”. This was the boldest element of a very pedestrian budget. Most controversially, the $350 Cost of Living Payment (COLP) was deliberately designed so that the poorest New Zealanders wouldn’t be eligible.
Treasury’s progressive criticism of Labour’s Cost of Living Payment
Many Labour supporters, especially amongst political commentators, were full of praise for the COLP, seeing it as proof the Government is still progressive, or alternatively can masterfully fend of National’s attempts to win over middle New Zealand.
Remarkably, the strongest criticism of the policy has come from Treasury, which worried Labour was missing the opportunity to help poorer members of society. Treasury officials argued that much of the COLP would go to high-income households. According to Thomas Coughlan’s report on this: “Treasury reckoned about 55 per cent of total payments would go to the middle 40 per cent of households, but 25 per cent of payments would go to the top 40 per cent of households.”
Treasury recommended that the billion dollar package would be much better spent on those on low incomes, and that this could have a positive impact on the Government’s stated goals around reducing child poverty. Treasury pointed out that it was low-income families who were much more significantly impacted by the cost of living crisis.
For Treasury to be to the left of Robertson says something about his “sweet moderation”. As Herald political editor Claire Trevett pointed out, “It is not often that Treasury is one that preaches the Labour gospel as the preferred option and it falls on deaf ears in Labour.” She pointed out that the COLP was therefore more about Labour looking like it was dealing with the cost of living crisis than actually doing anything meaningful.
In reply to criticism that he disregarded such strong advice from Treasury, Robertson stated his desire to have payments going to a “wider group”, although he probably really meant a “richer group”. And he tried to make a virtue of the fact that he often disagreed with Treasury.
Time for a campaign to extend the Cost of Living Payment
For those who really care about inequality and the need to protect workers and the poor from the cost of living crisis, it’s time to demand that the COLP be extended. Such extensions are entirely obtainable, if the Government is put under pressure – Robertson has already admitted that COLP extensions are possible if deemed necessary.
First, the whole “cost of living package” could be extended beyond three months, and perhaps should continue for as long as inflation is high. Duncan Garner argued for this on Monday in the NBR: “For it to be meaningful and make a genuine difference, surely it had to last as long as high inflation itself. But, when this comes off, arguably inflation will be higher than it has ever been and it is expected to rise again before it comes back and eases. Yet, at the very point it comes off, the petrol tax goes back on and the half-priced public transport ends. How hard would it have been for Labour to extend all this to Christmas? Easy, really; it’s all a matter of priorities”.
Second, the COLP needs to be higher. At the moment, the payment is fairly miserly. As many have pointed out, the $27/week is barely meaningful – in the metrics that Robertson preferred for his Budget launch, the payment will only allow recipients to make 18 cheese rolls each week. And economist Brad Olsen has calculated that the average household is soon to be paying $89/week extra due to inflation – about three times as much as the weekly payment.
Put another way, financial journalist Brian Fallow says the payments will “represent little more than half of 1 per cent of the household consumption, the cost of which is rising at nearly 7 per cent a year.” And economist Stephen Hickson of the University of Canterbury says, “At the median wage of about $57,000 a year, an extra $350 is equivalent to a 0.6% pay increase. Inflation in the first quarter of 2022 alone was 1.7% and 6.9% for the year, and this is a one-off payment – you don’t get that money on an ongoing basis.”
Third, the payment needs to be extended to the poor. As Stuff’s Henry Cooke points out, the payment is designed so that even Cabinet minister’s partners will be eligible if they’re in average-earning jobs. How about the payment is extended to beneficiaries and pensioners? At the moment, these people are facing quickly rising food prices, and the Government says they can use their Winter Energy Payments for these costs – effectively choosing to turn their heaters off in order to be able eat.
The Government really needs to listen to Treasury about looking after the poor.
The Budget exemplifies the 2017-2023 Labour Government
The 2022 Budget has come to epitomise the moderation of Jacinda Ardern’s whole time in government since 2017 – timid and conservative, and certainly not very transformative. While many were calling for public transport to be made free in the Budget, or at least the half-price initiative made permanent, instead a watered-down version was announced for Community Cardholders, and it was announced cheap fares would end following the two month extension. In all, Robertson allocated a bare $132m for this public transport initiative.
For this reason, writing for the Spinoff Danyl Mclauchlan commented on the Budget saying it’s hard to see what Labour are actually “doing with the most powerful electoral majority in our modern political history”.
Other progressive commentators have also been aghast at the emptiness of Labour. Josie Pagani suggested it was typically bland and lacking courage: “Voters won’t reward the party for this Budget. Trying to be all things to everyone looks like avoiding hard decisions. Was this a climate change Budget, a health Budget or a cost-of-living Budget? A little of all of the above sounds incoherent.”
Pagani says it was a “treading water” budget which takes the country neither forward nor backwards, and does nothing for dealing with child poverty or “intergenerational hardship”, which is pushed out as something to deal with in the future.
Similarly, social policy researcher Kate Prickett of Victoria University of Wellington says that, once again, the most vulnerable families have been forgotten by Labour, and Ardern will now fall well short of her child poverty targets. Prickett says: “This budget will be remembered as the first to demonstrably leave poor children behind.”
Likewise, inequality researcher Max Rashbrooke says that in targeting income relief at middle New Zealand, the Government is heading for disaster: “Labour has three main child-poverty targets for 2024; as things stand, it will miss at least two, and perhaps all, of those targets. This is potentially disastrous for a prime minister who has put such store by this issue, and for whom kindness is supposedly paramount.”
Rashbrooke laments that the myth of Labour’s so-called “radical incrementalism”, in which the Government was said to be “trying to achieve its grandest goals step by step”, is now exposed as a failed strategy.
The Government’s strategy, according to former Green MP Gareth Hughes, is one of “failure demand”, which he defines as avoiding addressing the root causes of crises and instead spending to fix the symptoms. Budgets like last week are remedial band-aids, and the outcome is that the crises continue: “A rental crisis, a housing crisis, an inequality crisis, a poverty crisis, a biodiversity crisis, and a climate crisis still stalk Aotearoa.”
Of course, some defenders of Labour and Robertson argue that they are still radical, pointing to the large sums being spent in the Budget. But this is somewhat illusionary. Even Robertson emphasises that his own spending track forecast will get government expenditure below 30 per cent of GDP, and therefore National government. He says that his latest Budget represents a fiscal tightening.
Hence, although much is promised in terms of health, housing, and education, as broadcaster Rachel Smalley points out, “by 2026 annual operating spending is forecast to be lower in health, education and housing than it was in 2022.”
Robertson therefore continues to be something of a moderate, and perhaps could even sell his approach, and that of the Government’s as “sweet conservatism” rather than Billy Bragg’s “sweet moderation”.
In fact, on Budget day, Bragg announced he would be coming to New Zealand to play an exclusive three-night set in the capital, at Victoria University of Wellington, in February. Will Robertson show up to sing “Sweet moderation; Heart of this nation”? Probably. But the Finance Minister will need to be ready to receive a lecture from the stage about Labour politicians who betray the poor.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Aaron J. Snoswell, Post-doctoral Research Fellow, Computational Law & AI Accountability, Queensland University of Technology
The first serious accident involving a self-driving car in Australia occurred in March this year. A pedestrian suffered life-threatening injuries when hit by a Tesla Model 3 in “autopilot” mode.
In the US, the highway safety regulator is investigating a series of accidents where Teslas on autopilot crashed into first-responder vehicles with flashing lights during traffic stops.
The decision-making processes of “self-driving” cars are often opaque and unpredictable (even to their manufacturers), so it can be hard to determine who should be held accountable for incidents such as these. However, the growing field of “explainable AI” may help provide some answers.
While self-driving cars are new, they are still machines made and sold by manufacturers. When they cause harm, we should ask whether the manufacturer (or software developer) has met their safety responsibilities.
Modern negligence law comes from the famous case of Donoghue v Stevenson, where a woman discovered a decomposing snail in her bottle of ginger beer. The manufacturer was found negligent, not because he was expected to directly predict or control the behaviour of snails, but because his bottling process was unsafe.
By this logic, manufacturers and developers of AI-based systems like self-driving cars may not be able to foresee and control everything the “autonomous” system does, but they can take measures to reduce risks. If their risk management, testing, audits and monitoring practices are not good enough, they should be held accountable.
How much risk management is enough?
The difficult question will be “How much care and how much risk management is enough?” In complex software, it is impossible to test for every bug in advance. How will developers and manufacturers know when to stop?
Fortunately, courts, regulators and technical standards bodies have experience in setting standards of care and responsibility for risky but useful activities.
Standards could be very exacting, like the European Union’s draft AI regulation, which requires risks to be reduced “as far as possible” without regard to cost. Or they may be more like Australian negligence law, which permits less stringent management for less likely or less severe risks, or where risk management would reduce the overall benefit of the risky activity.
Legal cases will be complicated by AI opacity
Once we have a clear standard for risks, we need a way to enforce it. One approach could be to give a regulator powers to impose penalties (as the ACCC does in competition cases, for example).
Individuals harmed by AI systems must also be able to sue. In cases involving self-driving cars, lawsuits against manufacturers will be particularly important.
However, for such lawsuits to be effective, courts will need to understand in detail the processes and technical parameters of the AI systems.
Manufacturers often prefer not to reveal such details for commercial reasons. But courts already have procedures to balance commercial interests with an appropriate amount of disclosure to facilitate litigation.
A greater challenge may arise when AI systems themselves are opaque “black boxes”. For example, Tesla’s autopilot functionality relies on “deep neural networks”, a popular type of AI system in which even the developers can never be entirely sure how or why it arrives at a given outcome.
‘Explainable AI’ to the rescue?
Opening the black box of modern AI systems is the focus of a newwave of computer science and humanities scholars: the so-called “explainable AI” movement.
The goal is to help developers and end users understand how AI systems make decisions, either by changing how the systems are built or by generating explanations after the fact.
In a classic example, an AI system mistakenly classifies a picture of a husky as a wolf. An “explainable AI” method reveals the system focused on snow in the background of the image, rather than the animal in the foreground.
How this might be used in a lawsuit will depend on various factors, including the specific AI technology and the harm caused. A key concern will be how much access the injured party is given to the AI system.
The Trivago case
Our new research analysing an important recent Australian court case provides an encouraging glimpse of what this could look like.
In April 2022, the Federal Court penalised global hotel booking company Trivago $44.7 million for misleading customers about hotel room rates on its website and in TV advertising, after a case brought on by competition watchdog the ACCC. A critical question was how Trivago’s complex ranking algorithm chose the top ranked offer for hotel rooms.
The Federal Court set up rules for evidence discovery with safeguards to protect Trivago’s intellectual property, and both the ACCC and Trivago called expert witnesses to provide evidence explaining how Trivago’s AI system worked.
Even without full access to Trivago’s system, the ACCC’s expert witness was able to produce compelling evidence that the system’s behaviour was not consistent with Trivago’s claim of giving customers the “best price”.
This shows how technical experts and lawyers together can overcome AI opacity in court cases. However, the process requires close collaboration and deep technical expertise, and will likely be expensive.
Regulators can take steps now to streamline things in the future, such as requiring AI companies to adequately document their systems.
Keeping our roads as safe as possible will require close collaboration between AI and legal experts, and regulators, manufacturers, insurers, and users will all have roles to play.
Aaron J. Snoswell’s research is funded by the Australian Research Council Centre of Excellence for Automated Decision-Making and Society (CE200100005). Aaron was also an author or contributor to an academic article referenced here.
Henry Fraser’s research is funded by the Australian Research Council Centre of Excellence for Automated Decision-Making and Society (CE200100005). Henry was also an author of an academic article referenced here.
Rhyle Simcock receives research support through a higher degree scholarship funded by the Digital Media Research Centre. Rhyle was also an author or contributor to an academic article referenced here.
The nightly television news coverage of the 2022 federal election was among the most juvenile and uninformative in 50 years.
Given that about 61% of Australians get their news from television in an average week, this matters.
The pattern was set early on: unimaginative, slavish PR-stunt footage of the leaders, combined with young go-getters in the travelling media packs trying to make a name for themselves with gotcha questions.
It is a pattern that has been developing for a long time, and for which editorial leadership in Australia’s main newsrooms is responsible – leadership of my own generation included.
More than 30 years ago, it became obvious to editorial executives that having their senior political correspondents travelling with the leaders was a waste of time and resources.
Instead, the senior correspondents were encouraged to base themselves in Canberra and to be selective about where and when they went on the road.
They attended campaign launches and major set-pieces such as leaders’ debates or National Press Club appearances, but otherwise they focused on analysing issues and trends as they emerged.
Relatively junior staff took their places “on the bus”.
The reason it became a waste of time and precious resources to keep the senior people on the bus was that the party apparatchiks and campaign managers imposed increasingly limited access to the leaders, and increasingly absurd secrecy about the travel schedule.
It got to the point where the itinerary for the day would be slipped under journalists’ hotel doors in the early hours of the morning.
In these ways, the parties became able to exert a high degree of control over the media coverage. It is very difficult to prepare questions to put to the leaders if you have no idea where you will be the next day, what the leaders will be doing, or what opportunity you will get to ask a question.
As a result, journalists and camera crews have become hostage to the party machines – news takers rather than news makers.
They find themselves trailing around factories, building sites, hospitals, playgrounds, shooting footage of the most banal but politically self-serving kind: helmets and hi-vis vests; Scott Morrison as a welder, pastry cook, hairdresser or whatever else he is dressed up as; Albanese having an earnest cup of tea with an elderly voter or bent over some unsuspecting child at a daycare centre.
Then comes the fleeting stand-up media conference, often outdoors against random background noise.
Ten metres away and robbed of any meaningful preparation, the reporters shout questions that may or may not have anything to do with what they have just seen or with any issue of the remotest relevance to voter concerns.
Was there a question about climate change, corruption or gender equality at any of those stand-ups? Fitting such questions into the scenario controlled by the party machines is next to impossible.
So the stage is set for the gotcha question.
They have their place, as the one to Albanese in the first week about the unemployment level showed. It revealed him as astonishingly ill-prepared, but as John Howard said that night: “So what?”
After that, Albanese was peppered with them, and seemed quite unable to muster anything like Adam Bandt’s classic response when confronted with something similar: “Google it, mate.”
But as Howard implied, it told us nothing about Albanese’s capabilities as a potential prime minister.
His confidence strong once he had won the prime ministership, Albanese asserted himself in the face of the media pack: “You will not get the call earlier if you yell. Day one. Let’s get that clear.”
This unedifying routine affects all news coverage, but television journalists suffer from it the most. The exigencies of television news bulletin production leave them little scope for persistent questioning and little time to prepare their scripts. It is all about grabs and pictures.
Newspaper journalists at least have the luxury of a little more time to prepare their print-edition stories, even if they have to file quickly for their online editions.
What can editorial executives do in the face of this?
For one thing, they do not have to run the tiresome, cliched footage of politicians doing stunts. Shoot it by all means, but there is no need to use it unless something newsworthy happens.
For another, they need to do a lot more to brief their junior staff on the bus about questions that might constructively inform the audience.
Take the unemployment figures. The outgoing prime minister and treasurer were understandably proud of the 3.9% unemployment figure that came out in the last week of the campaign.
But this statistic is in part an artefact of the participation rate. When people are so discouraged they stop looking for work, the unemployment rate looks better. So why not a question to the prime minister or treasurer about the participation rate? Or about under-employment?
Relatively inexperienced reporters being herded and hustled on the ground need not only guidance but also support in the form of necessary background information.
More strategically, it is time to call a halt to arrangements that co-opt the media into acting as a publicity arm for the two main parties.
The new reality is that there are three main forces in Australian politics: Labor, the Liberal-National Coalition and the Greens/Independents. Each attracted roughly one-third of the primary vote at the 2022 election.
This means the media will be paying more attention to the third force than they traditionally have, and so gives the media more leverage in dealing with the two main parties, which no longer have the power of a duopoly.
The media should insist on receiving travel schedules in reasonable time, on having media conferences held in settings where the exchange can be conducted civilly, and where there is time for the leaders to be subjected to questions of substance, including follow-up questions.
As the COVID-19 media conferences showed, these can elicit useful information because journalists are, on the whole, not piranhas but intelligent people keen to do right by the public.
It is not they, as individuals, who are to blame for the appalling television coverage we have seen over the past six weeks but the whole reality-distorting machinery in which they are caught up.
Denis Muller 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.
It’s a common scenario: you decide to go out for dinner and fancy something different. So, you look to online reviews to help you make your dining choice.
If you trust a review of a restaurant and then it doesn’t reach your expectations, it’s probably not a huge deal. But should we feel as comfortable about testimonials about health-care services?
These are commonplace in other countries, and the law banning positive reviews of medical services is about to change here in Australia.
Removing the ban
Much of Australia’s health-care workforce is regulated by the Australian Health Practitioner Regulation Agency (AHPRA). The agency’s registration scheme is broad, including medical doctors, dental practitioners, nurses and midwives, as well as many others.
The scheme is set out by nationally consistent law, enacted in each state and territory, commonly referred to as the National Law.
A recent bill tabled in the Queensland Parliament will change the National Law. One of the amendments is the removal of the current ban on regulated health services advertising using positive testimonials from patients.
Testimonials already exist in health-care
Despite the current ban, a quick search on Google reveals there are lots of reviews about a huge variety of health-care services already, apparently written by patients and carers.
The current regulations around health-care advertising don’t prevent patients from independently voicing their opinions and feelings about the care they’ve received. But health providers are banned from using testimonials to advertise on platforms that they control, such as a practice website or social media page.
Furthermore, there are health practitioners who use testimonials to advertise already; they either don’t know about the regulations or choose not to follow them.
Another reason lifting the ban makes sense is that AHPRA simply doesn’t have the resources to monitor all health-care advertising in Australia. It relies on complaints from the public or other health practitioners to notify against advertising that breaches the current standards.
Along with AHPRA holding practitioners who are flagged as doing the wrong thing to account, health businesses misusing testimonials may also face regulatory action.
But in a digitally interconnected world, online testimonials from other jurisdictions such as the United Kingdom and the United States, where health-care testimonials are not as strictly regulated, are easily accessed by Australian consumers. So enforcement is hugely challenging.
The prevailing marketing wisdom is that testimonials are powerful persuaders. Our research was the first to examine how health consumers might engage with testimonials to make decisions about what services to access. We asked more than 1,500 health consumers about the ways they used health advertising and testimonials.
We found that while participants found testimonials helpful, there was concern about their reliability in the context of health care. Only a small number of participants felt they could spot a “fake” review.
Previous research suggests online testimonials help consumers save time in decision-making.
Our study also found most participants felt health-care comparison websites were trustworthy sources of information and reviews of services.
Is removing the ban a bad idea?
Despite the intention of the National Law being to protect the public, the 2014 review of the National Scheme found a wide range of stakeholders did not support the outright ban on testimonials in health advertising. Many said this prohibition meant consumers couldn’t comment much on their health-care experiences.
It could be argued testimonials about health services are an important instrument in the democratisation of health care. Patients are empowered to access the experiences of other consumers and share their feelings about their own care.
This might be true in part, but advertising is fundamentally designed to sell. When it comes to advertising health care, we might value the potential for marketing to provide education on what services might be available – but we should be careful people are not sold care they don’t really want or need.
In short, we probably don’t need to be more concerned about “word of mouth” health reviews than we are now – even if the law changes.
It is clear testimonials in any sector can be misleading. And we also know some members of the public will struggle to assess the legitimacy of health-care reviews and testimonials.
Consumers should be able to use testimonials to inform themselves about health services, but no one should rely on them exclusively. Health consumers should also be guided by other sources of information, such as advice from a trusted health practitioner, to help inform their decision-making process. There is also nothing inherently unscrupulous about a health-care provider using a sincere testimonial or review to spread the word about the care they offer.
But ultimately, if something seems too good to be true, it possibly is. Health-care consumers should feel empowered to research their options without feeling they are being oversold care that might not be right for them.
Alexander Holden has received funding from the Australian Skeptics supporting research into health advertising. He has also received research funding from the Dental Council of NSW and NSW Health.
Alexander is a Director of the Australian Dental Association NSW Branch, Filling the Gap and the Australasian College of Legal Medicine.
Former Treasurer Josh Frydenberg’s shock loss to an independent running on a climate action platform wasn’t a fluke event. “Teal” independents have ousted five of Frydenberg’s colleagues, all harvesting votes from conservative heartland and all calling for more action on climate change.
Amid the wreckage, Frydenberg was asked whether the Liberals needed to rethink their policies on climate change. His response – that he didn’t believe Australia had been “well served by the culture wars on climate change” – deserves analysis.
Who started the culture war on climate change? And are we nearing its demise? Our research, published this month, provides some clues.
We found that approximately a third of Australians – predominantly conservatives – maintain that climate change is not caused by human activity, but rather by natural environmental fluctuations.
Crucially, however, we also found signs the conservative position against climate science has weakened over time. The election results reinforce this message, with a projection of six teal independents nationwide and two new Green seats in Queensland.
As such, this election may well be remembered as the first cracks in the dam wall of conservative-led climate scepticism.
How climate science became political
Historically, science has been excluded from “left” and “right” political culture wars. Science, it was agreed, was best left to the scientists.
For example, shortly after definitive evidence emerged that chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs) were eroding the ozone layer, an international treaty committed to phasing them out. The response was swift and apolitical: in the 1980s you couldn’t tell how someone voted from knowing their stance on CFCs.
Unfortunately, this can’t be said for climate science. In 1965, there was enough scientific buzz about the dangers of carbon emissions that US President Lyndon B. Johnson delivered a message to Congress sounding the alarm.
But the seeds of climate culture wars were sown soon after. With the ear of senior politicians – and supported by think tanks and private corporations – a campaign of misinformation was started that came straight from the Big Tobacco playbook: to convince people to do nothing in the face of impending danger, you need to convince them the science is not yet in.
The campaign to scramble the science on climate change was remarkably effective: in the 2000s, 97% of climate scientists agreed about anthropogenic climate change, but people incorrectly believed scientists were divided on the issue. A scientific conclusion had been effectively positioned as a “debate”.
Originally, this had little to do with conservatism. In the early 1990s, educated Republicans saw more scientific consensus around climate change than Democrats. But this pattern has since dramatically reversed.
Climate mitigation became perceived by conservative elites as ideologically toxic – a Big Government response designed to regulate industry and the freedoms of individuals. Among the Right, politicians, think tanks, and media all started to coach other conservatives how to think about climate change.
The consequence was that a scientific issue became a political issue. Researchers investigating the predictors of climate scepticism found political allegiance blew everything else out of the water: more important than people’s personal experience of extreme weather events, their levels of education, or even their science literacy.
We recently analysed 25 polls conducted by Essential Research over ten years, collecting representative data on Australians’ beliefs about climate change.
We found scepticism levels were staggeringly high by international standards. Over the last 10 years, about four in ten Australians either said climate change isn’t driven by human activities, or that they “don’t know” what’s causing it. Most of these people were conservatives.
But scepticism has tailed down from the high-water mark in 2013, and particularly among conservatives. Our data suggest the trigger for this change was the string of record-breaking annual global temperatures since 2015.
As the Liberal party and conservative voters ponder what happens next, it’s worth remembering that rejection of climate science is not an inherently conservative position. International data suggest the link between conservatism and climate scepticism is largely an issue for the US and Australia.
In most countries there is no reliable relationship. Indeed, in the UK it was the conservatives who led the phasing out of coal in their country.
Pro-climate conservative leaders around the world – such as Malcolm Turnbull, Arnold Schwarzenegger and John Kasich – remind us that mitigating climate change is something that dovetails with conservative values: protecting traditional ways of life, maintaining national security and independence, and catalysing green jobs and innovation.
The success of the teal independents highlights that many conservative Australians want climate action. The election result could pressure the Liberal party into deleting climate science from the culture wars.
This will not be easy. Australia is the world’s leading exporter of coal, and in the past inaction on climate change has been an effective wedge issue to harvest traditionally left-leaning, blue-collar votes.
But extracting climate policy from the culture wars would be game-changing in terms of our ability to unite in the face of the climate crisis, and conservatives are the ones most equipped to do so.
As the Liberals reflect on the loss of a generation of future leaders in blue ribbon seats, they may just decide that now is the time.
Matthew Hornsey receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
Cassandra Chapman and Jacquelyn Humphrey 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.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Jessica Holloway, Senior Research DECRA Fellow, Institute for Learning Sciences and Teacher Education, Australian Catholic University
While the Labor government’s cabinet will not be finalised until next week, we expect Tanya Plibersek to become education minister. She will have plenty to do.
The education sector presents the new government with several pressing challenges. These range from teacher shortages to concerns about school funding and student and teacher safety and well-being.
Here are some of the good, the bad, and the missing from Labor’s existing plans.
To answer this call, Labor has promised A$440 million for new ventilation systems and open-air learning spaces, as well as support for mental health services. This is a good start.
Labor will also spend $6 million on a digital licence for school students. As Plibersek explained, “this is the pen licence for the digital age”, helping kids stay safe and use the internet wisely. There will also be a program for secondary students to think more critically online.
Schools and parents are likely to embrace this initiative, especially given how much virtual and in-person learning have become intertwined during the pandemic. However, some computer experts say it needs greater funding to be effective.
Labor’s proposal also focuses on individual student privacy and safety, which some experts claim oversimplifies the issue.
There is mounting concern about the increased involvement of private ed-tech companies in education. A recent analysis found that data collected through Google Classroom, for example, can be used for improving other Google products. As these actors play an increasingly important role in schools, the government has a responsibility to make sure private involvement is held to account and monitored closely.
Teachers are leaving the profession in record numbers, with no end in sight for when this might turn around. Monash University education researcher Amanda Heffernan and colleagues recently surveyed 2,444 Australian primary and secondary school teachers, and found a staggering 59% said they intended to leave the profession.
Labor campaigned on this awareness but offered a solution that many experts warn is misguided. The plan is to offer high-achievers (based on ATAR scores over 80) $10,000 per year of study to do an education degree. Students who commit to remote teaching will be offered $12,000 per year.
Labor is right to acknowledge this looming crisis, and to consider financial supplements as a potential remedy. However, the proposal fundamentally misunderstands the reasons teachers are leaving in droves.
Their narrow focus on recruitment fails to address the unbearable workloads, poor working conditions and excessive testing that created the problem in the first place. Teachers are feeling demoralised, exhausted and undervalued, which has only been exacerbated by increased responsibilities during COVID.
Since the time of the announcement, no education expert or major teacher organisation has publicly praised this initiative, which is quite telling. If Labor ignores the root causes of declining retention numbers, and fails to establish a long-term and meaningful recruitment strategy, this problem will continue to worsen over the coming years.
What’s missing?
Labor has been surprisingly quiet on the issue of school funding, despite this being one of its major priorities in the past.
Concern about inequitable funding between government and non-government schools continues to be a hot topic for education experts and parents alike. Earlier this year, public school advocacy group Save our Schools analysed ten years of funding data. It found funding for public schools increased by $703 per student, while Catholic and independent schools increased by $3,338 per student.
Now with concerns over “learning loss” from COVID, these disparities are even more troubling. Therefore, it is disappointing Labor hasn’t more forcefully addressed the need for greater equity of funding and resources across the various school sectors.
However, with the Greens potentially having more influence in federal parliament, this issue may receive more attention. The Greens campaigned on fully funding the Gonski recommendations with a promise of $49 billion for public schools.
What now?
There are other important issues glossed over in Labor’s education plans, which also boil down to equity.
At the top of this list is the need to redress the historically under-resourced schools that primarily serve Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander students. Similarly, schools are becoming more segregated based on students’ relative advantage. This means disadvantaged students are concentrated in disadvantaged schools, which has big implications for students’ achievement and a “fair go”.
Having Labor education ministers at the federal and most of the state levels might mean greater policy coherence overall. However, I would be reluctant to predict a complete ceasefire over some contentious matters, such as the ongoing curriculum wars.
Jessica Holloway receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
There are many reasons to employ people living with intellectual disability. Most obvious is that it’s the right thing to do – it helps promote social justice, diversity, corporate social responsibility, and equal opportunity.
Even so, data released in 2020 (the latest available) show just 53.4% of people with disability are in the labour force, compared with 84.1% of people without disability.
The situation is worse for people living with intellectual disability; only 32% of this group are employed.
People living with intellectual disability are ready, willing and able to work.
What employers often don’t realise is that hiring from this oft-neglected segment of the workforce can also bring benefits for business.
The recent Australian television documentary series, Employable Me, highlighted the employment difficulties faced by people living with a disability.
It’s hard not to admire the incredible resilience, perseverance and positive outlook of this group.
Despite these qualities, people living with intellectual disability who want to work face barriers such as:
employer attitudes
stigma
preconceived beliefs
discriminatory work practices and
a limited knowledge of their capabilities.
It’s true employers may need to make workplace adjustments to accommodate these employees’ needs, such as:
communicating in pictures rather than words (for example, using signage with symbols to indicate who and what goes where)
breaking tasks down into simple steps
specialised training for workers living with an intellectual disability, as well as supervisors and co-workers.
Yes, these changes may represent an initial cost. But research shows the profound benefits of hiring people living with intellectual disabilities, which can include:
The organisations highlighted in such studies include retail organisations, the military, small and medium enterprises, professional services and landscaping.
To achieve such results though, requires employee support, changes to work procedures, flexibility in supervision, and – perhaps most importantly – an open mind.
‘A massive waste of human resource’
People living with intellectual disability can and do make a significant contributions at work when given the opportunity.
Many tend to be employed part-time, and in segregated settings – often in Australian disability enterprises or what used to be called “sheltered workshops”.
One of us (Elaine Nash) has been researching the business benefits of employing people living with intellectual disability. The (yet to be published) research has involved interviews with policy makers, leaders, disability advocates, managers, employers, and staff.
One interview was with Professor Richard Bruggemann, a disability advocate and last year’s South Australia Senior Australian of the year. He described the low labour force participation rate of people living with an intellectual disability as “a massive waste of human resource”. He said:
People living with intellectual disability are ready, willing, and able to make a difference to organisations beyond the traditional sheltered workshop setting. All they need is an opportunity to do so.
Bruggemann’s observations are supported by international researchabout workers living with intellectual disability. Many studies have called for a whole-of-government approach to boost employment rates in this cohort.
Making it happen
Employing people living with intellectual disability won’t always be suitable.
It is not a silver bullet for corporate success, higher efficiency, or greater profits. But in some settings, it may help address problems that have been concerning employers.
As Simon Rowberry, CEO of Barkuma (a not-for-profit that supports people with disability) told us in an interview:
There are costs and benefits in any employment decision. Incorporating workers living with intellectual disability into your workforce is no different. Preparation, understanding what the upsides as well as the downsides are, and a need to be flexible are non-negotiables.
Perhaps the most critical success factor is a genuine desire to make it happen. Where there’s a will, there’s usually a way.
Elaine Nash used to work with Professor Richard Bruggemann when he was CEO of Intellectual Disability Services Council (IDSC). This story is part of The Conversation’s Breaking the Cycle series, which is about escaping cycles of disadvantage. It is supported by a philanthropic grant from the Paul Ramsay Foundation.
Basil Tucker received funding from Accounting and Finance Association Australian and New Zealand (AFAANZ) for this project.
Australian writer and director Renée Webster’s new film How to Please a Woman turns much of what we think we know about sexual desire – especially for older women – on its head.
How to Please a Woman features 50-something Gina (Sally Phillips), who hasn’t had sex with her husband (Cameron Daddo) in over a year because he is no longer interested in sexual relations – with her or anyone.
Gina’s main source of intimacy comes from the regular beach swims she has with a group of three women (Tasma Walton, Caroline Brazier, and Hayley McElhinney) and their changing-room conversations that cover everything from peeing on jellyfish stings to the multipurpose use of coconut oil, including as a natural lubricant.
When Gina’s friends rent a stripper (Alexander England) to dance for her on her birthday (a much more intimate present that the two $50 bills she receives from her husband), and he offers to do anything for her (“Anything?” “Totally …”) she asks him to clean her house.
Realising the pleasure she experienced having her house cleaned by a shirtless, handsome man, Gina starts her own male cleaning business and her swimming crew become her first clients.
But they want more than their houses cleaned.
The sexual desire of women over 50
One of the strengths of this film is the sensitive way it represents the different desires of individual women. After all, the title of the film is How to Please a
Woman not How to Please Women.
For Gina to ensure her clients receive the pleasure they want, she meets individually with them and writes down their preferences. One woman wants to take it slow and start with gin and tonic. Another woman does not want her breasts touched. A third woman wants a very specific orgasm: she does not want just any orgasm that sneaks up on you, but one you ease up to and pull away from, ease up to and pull away from until total annihilation. Another client says that after several bookings with men she is starting to feel all kinds of things, so she wants to book a session with a woman.
It is rare to see in popular culture a range of mostly older women being frank about what gives them sexual pleasure and to see how their desire become more adventurous and diverse. Sadly, the sexual desire of women over 50 is often unrepresented, misrepresented, and/or shown as comedic.
The greatest barrier to a woman’s sexuality in midlife is the socially transmitted disease of ageism.
Older women are represented as asexual and past it. They are “cougars” or ageing femme fatales, like Blanche Du Bois in Tennessee William’s A Streetcar Named Desire, who set a tone for generations as a figure of fun whose desires are twisted, ridiculed, and ultimately punished.
Older age is by far the largest developmental human period plagued by misconceptions and stereotypes, kept alive by incessant jokes.
And no gender absorbs these jokes more than the female. Sexiness is equated with youth, and older women and their sexuality are made invisible. When older women are represented in popular media, their sexuality is often not shown or is aligned with deviance, such as in the relationship between Darlene and Wyatt in Netflix’s highly-acclaimed Ozark.
Depictions in media trivialising desirous or sexually active older women, or women who seek sex outside of loving and steady relationships as abnormal, contribute to negative stereotypes and to judgemental attitudes about older sexuality.
And just like that…
Fortunately, we are starting to see the lives of women over 50 appear more positively in stories on television, recent examples including And Just Like That the reboot of Sex and the City, and the hugely popular Netflix comedy series Grace and Frankie – and in films like It’s Complicated and Girl’s Trip.
The tone of these stories plays more for laughs, though, while How to Please a Woman balances between comedy and drama. As director Renée Webster says,
The best comedy comes from truth and a little bit of pain.
How to Please a Woman shows older women’s sexual desire as respectful and tender for both women and men, even though it is set within a comedy.
But the women aren’t being laughed at, they’re the ones laughing. This depiction seems new and significant. Stories impact and inspire relationships and images about ageing and sexuality influence individual behaviour.
Webster herself says she is “starting to get unsolicited texts of my friends’ husbands vacuuming the carpet and hearing from people that they took something home from the movie, and it opened up some new conversations for them.”
Female sexuality is seen as part of a rich fabric of women’s lives, not its single orgasmic culmination. As Steve (Erik Thomson) says in the film while eating a croissant, “one is never enough.”
Debra Dudek receives funding from the Australian Government through the Australian Research Council’s Discovery Projects funding scheme (project DP190102435). The views expressed herein are those of this author and are not necessarily those of the Australian Government or the Australian Research Council.
Elizabeth Reid Boyd and Madalena Grobbelaar 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.
The uncertainty over whether Jacinda Ardern might land a White House meeting and photo opportunity with US President Joe Biden was perhaps fitting, given the lack of clarity about one of their main topics of discussion.
On Monday in Tokyo Biden launched his Indo-Pacific Economic Framework (IPEF). He was flanked by the three other leaders from the “Quad” alliance: Japan, India and Australia, whose new prime minister, Anthony Albanese, was speedily sworn in so he could reach Tokyo in time.
Ardern joined by video and plans to discuss the IPEF directly with Biden in Washington next week, White House COVID rules permitting. But despite the high-profile launch, the IPEF remains an enigma, a high-level idea in search of substance.
We know it has four pillars: trade, supply chain resiliency, clean energy and decarbonisation, and tax and anti-corruption. We also know 13 countries have signed up: the Quad plus New Zealand, Brunei, Indonesia, South Korea, Malaysia, the Philippines, Singapore, Thailand and Vietnam.
The next few months will be spent scoping the framework – something you’d expect might happen before countries opt in. But the lack of substance doesn’t matter for now. The launch was symbolic, applauding US re-engagement with the Asia-Pacific (now rebranded Indo-Pacific) region.
That was the easy part. Actually bringing the IPEF to fruition faces major hurdles.
US versus China
Most commentators have homed in on the geopolitical conundrum. The Indo-Pacific Strategy issued by the White House in February complained that:
[China] is combining its economic, diplomatic, military, and technological might as it pursues a sphere of influence in the Indo-Pacific and seeks to become the world’s most influential power.
The US views the IPEF as the vehicle to reassert its economic primacy. And Australia and Japan are fully on board.
The IPEF gives Albanese an early opportunity to dispel election campaign suggestions he is soft on China, while distinguishing himself from his predecessor Scott Morrison’s belligerence as trade tensions with China escalated.
Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi is more cautious, especially about China. Biden’s announcement was reportedly rewritten to launch “collective discussions towards future negotiations”, which leaves India’s options open.
Aotearoa New Zealand has a bigger dilemma. For years successive governments have sat on the fence, assuming they could divorce the country’s economic dependency on China from strategic alliances that were increasingly anti-China.
To have credibility, the US also needs broader buy-in from the region. Seven of the ten ASEAN countries have agreed to participate. But these are early days. Few will want to jeopardise their relationship with China for nothing tangible in return.
US unions have already targeted Malaysia, Indonesia and Vietnam for their poor human rights and labour records. They are hardly likely to accept US demands that they accept “gold standard” labour laws.
Domestic US politics
The second hurdle is US domestic politics. There is no question the IPEF will put “America first”. But internal US consultations reveal a battle between two camps on what this means.
The Democrats’ core labour and environment base has been promised a new trade model that prioritises workers, the environment and domestic communities ahead of US corporate profits.
They’re rallying behind US Trade Representative Katherine Tai who is responsible for the trade pillar of the IPEF. Its broad scope includes the digital economy and emerging technology, labour commitments, the environment, trade facilitation, transparency and good regulatory practices, and corporate accountability.
These are all chapters in the Trans-Pacific Partnership Agreement (TPPA), including the super-sensitive issue of cross-border data flows and data localisation. But Tai’s trade mandate excludes the domestically volatile issues of market access for goods, including agriculture, which is what most countries, including New Zealand, really want.
Corporate agendas
The US corporate lobby, on the other hand, wants to revive the tariff-cutting agenda of the TPPA, which Tai rejects as a 20th-century model that is not fit for purpose.
And corporate America wants to secure strong rules to protect Big Tech from new regulation, something that falls within Tai’s “trade” mandate. They seek a champion in Secretary of Commerce Gina Raimondo, who oversees the other three pillars.
During this week’s White House briefing on the IPEF, Tai made the administration’s priorities crystal clear. While traditional stakeholders have to be part of the solution, she said, they will be
ensuring that other stakeholders, like our workers, like our environmental organisations, the ones who are the smartest about climate and the policy solutions that we need, that they have premier seats at the table and that they will be influencing and shaping the policies that we create.
Of course, the IPEF may never be concluded. It has no bipartisan support in the US. Even if the Biden administration has the best of intentions, it cannot give an assurance that future administrations will maintain improved environmental and labour standards in the US or honour commitments to other countries taking part in IPEF.
The Biden White House wants to avoid putting the deal to a vote in Congress. But once it drags into the next presidential election cycle it risks falling into the abyss behind the TPPA.
Realistically, the IPEF is a “pig in a poke”. Aotearoa New Zealand and Australia need to take a deep breath and realistically assess the opportunities and threats from such an arrangement.
That means assessing it next to pressing challenges like the climate emergency, lessons from the pandemic, successive global financial crises, the largely unregulated private power of Big Tech, geopolitical rivalries in a multi-polar world, New Zealand’s obligations to Māori under Te Tiriti o Waitangi, and more.
Then they must weigh up the options: stand aside from the negotiations, pursue alternative arrangements, or establish a clear, public negotiating mandate that would truly maximise the nations’ interests for the century ahead.
Professor Kelsey was a prominent critical commentator on the Trans-Pacific Partnership Agreement.
The QUAD summit in Tokyo has praised Australia raising its ambition on climate change, after Anthony Albanese told fellow leaders his government would do more to assist Pacific countries address it.
Albanese stressed Australia’s revised climate policy during the meeting, attended by US president Joe Biden, Prime Minister Narendra Modi of India, and Prime Minister Fumio Kishida of Japan. Albanese was there just a day after being sworn in.
The Joint Leaders’ Statement said: “We welcome the new Australian Government’s commitment to stronger action on climate change, including through passing legislation to achieve net zero by 2050 and lodging a new, ambitious Nationally Determined Contribution”.
In his opening remarks to the meeting, Albanese said the change of government would not change Australia’s commitment to the QUAD.
But he differentiated the new government on the climate issue.
“The region is looking to us to work with them and to lead by example. That’s why my government will take ambitious action on climate change and increase our support to partners in the region as they work to address it, including with new finance, ” he said. (Labor announced in the election campaign that it would boost aid to the Pacific.)
“We will act in recognition that climate change is the main economic and security challenge for the island countries of the Pacific.
“Under my government, Australia will set a new target to reduce emissions by 43% cent by 2030, putting us on track for net zero by 2050.”
Albanese said the government would bring “more energy and resources to securing our region as we enter a new and more complex phase in the Pacific’s strategic environment.
“And we will continue to stand with you, our like-minded friends. And collectively, we will continue to stand up for each other. We will stand firm on our values and our beliefs.”
Speaking at a news conference later, Albanese emphasised climate change as a security issue and in the context of China’s seeking more influence in the Pacific.
“I share the view that this is a national security issue. Climate change is not just about the environment. It’s about the shape of our economies, but also our national security going forward.”
Albanese also said climate change was the main topic discussed when he and British Prime Minister Boris Johnson spoke on Monday. “He welcomed, very much welcomed, the fact that we will have stronger action on climate change, including with a higher 2030 target.”
He and Johnson also discuss the AUKUS agreement, which Labor supports.
Albanese said he looked forward to hosting the QUAD leaders in Australia for their meeting next year.
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.
As well as her interviews with politicians and experts, Politics with Michelle Grattan includes “Word from The Hill”, where she discusses the news with members of The Conversation politics team.
In this podcast Michelle and politics + society editor Amanda Dunn canvass new Prime Minster Anthony Albanese’s climate pitch to the QUAD, China’s reaction to the Labor government, and what the election defeat has done to the Coalition.
Michelle Grattan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Politics can be slow-moving, until all of a sudden it isn’t. As political scientist Simon Jackman says in today’s episode of Below the Line, “politics is very non-linear. You get these steady, secular trends in voter sentiment, and then you’ll have that breakthrough election where that will convert into seats”.
2022 was that breakthrough election. The Liberal party was turfed out, not just from government but also from many of its blue-ribbon seats, and we saw a historic wave of climate-focused candidates elected from outside the major parties.
In this episode of Below the Line, our expert panel dissects the results of this surprising federal election, from Anthony Albanese’s victory, to the breakthrough of independents and the Queensland Greens, and Scott Morrison “bulldozing” his way to the worst Liberal result since the second world war.
Our regular panellists recorded this final episode live at La Trobe University, which we are releasing in two parts. Part one focuses on the election results and their fallout, while the concluding edition of our limited-edition podcast series will examine the policy consequences going forward for the new federal parliament.
Our political experts also critique the media’s coverage of the campaign in light of the historic results. Host and former ABC Radio host Jon Faine believes the national broadcaster’s coverage was “below standard”, while he agrees with Western Australian Premier Mark McGowan’s criticisms of the unprofessional conduct of the national press gallery. Andrea Carson also calls out News Corp’s partisan coverage, the media’s “gotcha” questions, and their belated focus on women, while Simon Jackman and Anika Gauja take issue with their “presidentialised” approach that focused too much on the parties’ respective leaders.
Below the Line is a limited-edition election podcast brought to you by The Conversation and La Trobe University. It is produced by Courtney Carthy and Benjamin Clark.
To become one of more than 190,000 people who get The Conversation’s journalism by experts delivered straight to their inbox, subscribe today.
Disclosures: Simon Jackman is a consultant on polling data for the Climate 200 network of independent candidates.
On Sunday, popular American singer songwriter Halsey shared a video on TikTok with tinny music in the background, the on-screen text reading:
Basically I have a song that I love that I wanna release ASAP but my record label won’t let me. I’ve been in this industry for 8 years and I’ve sold over 165 million records. And my record company is saying that I can’t release it unless they can fake a viral moment on TikTok. Everything is marketing. And they are doing this to basically every artist these days. I just wanna release music, man. And I deserve better tbh. I’m tired.
The 30-second video did what Halsey’s label wanted – though probably not how they wanted. It gained over 8 million views in 24 hours and sparked massive interest among fans, TikTok users and industry observers.
Comments on the video were divided between those expressing support for Halsey’s predicament and indignation at the record label, and those who saw the post as the actual marketing scheme the label wanted all along.
In a second video shared two hours later, Halsey pushed back against accusations of fake outrage with a recording of someone speaking off screen, ostensibly a label representative, explaining how the viral TikTok campaign would need to play out for the song to get scheduled for release.
Throughout the explanation, Halsey stares despondently into the middle distance before finally saying “I hate this. It just sucks.”
Whether staged or not, the fact that these two videos went viral so quickly shows people are willing to believe a major artist would be so frustrated with their label forcing them to “do TikTok” that they decided to expose their label on TikTok.
Like MTV or top 40 hits radio stations before it, TikTok is where popular music lives right now. Labels understand that.
To them, the allure of TikTok is that musical content can go viral quickly, offering the potential to save millions on other types of marketing campaigns.
Halsey is not the first high profile artist to vent about this on TikTok.
In his first video posted last month, American singer songwriter, Gavin DeGraw shared a parody version of his 2003 hit, singing “I Don’t Want to Be on TikTok but my label told me that I have to.”
Just last week, English singer-songwriter FKA Twigs claimed her label was not only making her create and post TikTok videos but they wanted her to post videos multiple times a day.
In some cases artists do seem to enjoy being on TikTok.
Lizzo regularly shares memes, vlogs and recipe videos on TikTok, and heavily promoted her most recent release It’s About Damn Time. She even participated in a dance challenge for the song choreographed by another TikTok creator.
Going viral on TikTok can be a double-edged sword for musical artists. It can catapult them to unprecedented visibility in markets around the world, but the content making them famous could be the video, not the music.
In 2019, Australian singer Inoxia went “accidentally viral” when a passer-by recorded her performing on the street and uploaded it to TikTok. The street-performer-turned-TikTok sensation was offered deals that seemed too good to be true and told by her manager she’d need to become more of a content creator to maintain her success.
Her passion was singing, not making videos to post on social media. Ultimately, she returned to busking on the street.
Is all publicity good publicity?
Halsey’s self-described “TikTok tantrum” tests the shock advertising theory that any and all publicity is good publicity for brands.
For independent artists without the same leverage, a viral venting video could be the very thing they need to ditch their label and share their music on their own – provided they aren’t locked into the kind of exclusive record deal that has become standard in the music industry over the past decade.
Fake or genuine, Halsey’s video shows fans and artists are willing to have a conversation about how labels exert influence over artists when it comes to marketing, the nature of obligations artists contractually owe to their labels and the power artists wield to push back against labels if they feel they are being treated unfairly.
Viral rants on TikTok are not going to become the new normal for selling songs, just like video never actually killed the radio star. Label executives watching this unfold are likely more nervous about their own artists publicly airing grievances online than they are excited about a new trend in viral music marketing.
Regardless, as long as audiences continue discovering new music on TikTok, labels will continue searching for new ways to promote their music to the top of the feed.
The core job of the artist – making music – remains the same. Only now the video needs to go viral.
D. Bondy Valdovinos Kaye 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.
During Saturday’s election, 31.5% of the voters deserted the major parties, with a swag of female teal independents tipping Liberal MPs out of their heartland urban seats.
By contrast, the underestimated Greens had a sensational election, surprising many pundits with the strength of their support.
Even though their lower house vote increased by just 1.5% overall, their concentrated support saw the Greens gain two, potentially three, seats in Brisbane. Their traditional strength in the Senate is set to grow, potentially to an all time high of 12 senators. That would give them the balance of power.
So, how did the Greens do it? A combination of good timing and hard work. The climate election arrived at last, Scott Morrison was deeply unpopular, and the third party of Australian politics harnessed support it had been quietly building for years, especially in conservative-leaning Queensland. The only surprise is that many of us weren’t paying attention.
How did the Greens do it?
The Greens have hit a new high-water mark in the lower house with 11.9% of the vote. While good, it’s barely better than their 2010 best of 11.76%. Even so, because of the concentration of their support, their leader Adam Bandt will likely be joined by two other Greens in the lower house and possibly one more.
If Labor is unable to secure a majority, the Greens will likely support minority government. Australia’s only other Greenslide election was in 2010, when the Greens shared the balance of power in the lower house, and held it in the Senate. They were on board then with Labor’s reformist agenda and smoothed the passage of its bills.
As a result, the minority government was our most productive government in recent years.
Playing to party strengths
Are these results a shock? Not really. The party has played to its strengths by targeting specific seats at least since 2010, when they had the biggest swings to their party across the country. That was when 85% of us wanted climate action, before the climate wars set us back a decade.
Every election since has been about growing the Green vote across the country whilst expanding their inner-city strongholds, with very specific targeting of seats like Melbourne (Adam Bandt’s safe seat), Kooyong, Goldstein, Sydney, MacKellar, Warringah, Brisbane, Curtin and Grayndler.
In March 2021, the Greens released their election strategy in a largely neglected but extremely clear press release. They identified nine priority lower house seats, three additional Senate seats, and the balance of power in both houses as party goals. Notably, their campaigning efforts only overlapped the teal independents in the seat of Kooyong.
It looks like they’ll win the three Queensland seats of Ryan, Griffith and Brisbane from, respectively, the Liberals, Liberal National Party and Labor. Adam Bandt is now confident the Greens are “on the march” in the sunshine state. That’s quite a turnaround from 2019, where Queensland proved critical to Morrison’s miracle victory.
From the ground up
Crucially, Green politics is built from the ground up, beginning with participation at local council level and in state parliaments.
In 2020, the party won two state seats, following their gain of a seat on Brisbane City Council, and have continued to build on that momentum into this election with sophisticated grass roots campaigning.
This is a long term effort. In the seat of Ryan, for example, which takes in much of Brisbane’s leafy west and hinterland, the Greens have been slowly building up strength since reaching just under 19% in 2010. On Saturday, Elizabeth Watson-Brown wrested Ryan from the LNP with a primary vote of 31.1% and a two-party-preferred vote of 53.2%.
Traditionally, the Greens have posed more of a threat to Labor. While they have done most damage to the Liberals this election, Labor knows that it is not immune to this rising third force. Adam Bandt’s seat was solidly Labor for over one hundred years.
A Green mandate
Gaining the balance of power in either or both houses would give the Greens greater leverage to introduce parts of their agenda. The election result was clearly a mandate for strengthened climate action, and they will seek that immediately.
What could this look like? Think of the key achievements of the Gillard minority Labor government, which included Green initiatives such as clean energy legislation, carbon pricing and the establishment of the Climate Change Authority, Renewable Energy Agency and Clean Energy Finance Corporation.
In 2022, Greens preferences to Labor across the country proved vital in unseating Liberal MPs. Despite Labor’s traditional discomfort with Green incursions into “their” seats, this trend is here to stay. Labor will have to deal with it. The Greens back much of the teal independents’ agenda of climate action and political integrity, making them collectively a powerful crossbench for change.
In his post election speech, Bandt made clear what he wants: a principled, stable Labor government, with an end to coal and gas, a just transition for displaced workers, and investment in climate resilience.
By neglecting environmental issues and failing to adequately tackle Australia’s growing inequality, both major parties have created the political space which Green politics fills.
Over the last decade, as climate-linked crises have intensified, public concern has soared. The economic cost of this neglect is already in the billions and climbing.
The Greens and teal independents will likely seek to end fossil fuel subsidies and to ban fossil industry donations to political parties. Had the political parties kept a distance from corrosive fossil fuel influence in the first place, they would not find Greens and teals replacing them.
Kate Crowley 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.
Mastercard’s “smile to pay” system, announced last week, is supposed to save time for customers at checkouts. It is being trialled in Brazil, with future pilots planned for the Middle East and Asia.
The company argues touch-less technology will help speed up transaction times, shorten lines in shops, heighten security and improve hygiene in businesses. But it raises concerns relating to customer privacy, data storage, crime risk and bias.
How will it work?
Mastercard’s biometric checkout system will provide customers facial recognition-based payments, by linking the biometric authentication systems of a number of third-party companies with Mastercard’s own payment systems.
A Mastercard spokesperson told The Conversation it had already partnered with NEC, Payface, Aurus, Fujitsu Limited, PopID and PayByFace, with more providers to be named.
They said “providers need to go through independent laboratory certification against the program criteria to be considered” – but details of these criteria aren’t yet publicly available.
According to media reports, customers will have to install an app which will take their picture and payment information. This information will be saved and stored on the third-party provider’s servers.
At the checkout, the customer’s face will be matched with the stored data. And once their identity is verified, funds will be deducted automatically. The “wave” option is a bit of a trick: as the customer watches the camera while waving, the camera still scans their face – not their hand.
Similar authentication technologies are used on smartphones (face ID) and in many airports around the world, including “smartgates” in Australia.
China started using biometrics-based checkout technology back in 2017. But Mastercard is among the first to launch such a system in Western markets – competing with the “pay with your palm” system used at cashier-less Amazon Go and Whole Foods brick and mortars in the United States.
Much about the precise functioning of Mastercard’s system isn’t clear. How accurate will the facial recognition be? Who will have access to the databases of biometric data?
A Mastercard spokesperson told The Conversation customers’ data would be stored with the relevant biometric service provider in encrypted form, and removed when the customer “indicates they want to end their enrolment”. But how will the removal of data be enforced if Mastercard itself can’t access it?
Obviously, privacy protection is a major concern, especially when there are many potential third-party providers involved.
On the bright side, Mastercard’s customers will have a choice as to whether or not they use the biometrics checkout system. However, it will be at retailers’ discretion whether they offer it, or whether they offer it exclusively as the only payment option.
Similar face-recognition technologies used in airports, and by police, often offer no choice.
We can assume Mastercard and the biometrics provider with whom they partner will require customer consent, as per most privacy laws. But will customers know what they are consenting to?
Ultimately, the biometric service providers Mastercard teams up with will decide how they use the data, for how long, where they store it, and who can access it. Mastercard will merely decide what providers are “good enough” to be accepted as partners, and the minimum standards they must adhere to.
Customers who want the convenience of this checkout service will have to consent to all the related data and privacy terms. And as reports have noted, there is potential for Mastercard to integrate the feature with loyalty schemes and make personalised recommendations based on purchases.
While the accuracy of face recognition technologies has previously been challenged, the current best facial authentication algorithms have an error of just 0.08%, according to tests by the National Institute of Standards and Technology. In some countries, even banks have become comfortable relying on it to log users into their accounts.
Yet we can’t know how accurate the technologies used in Mastercard’s biometric checkout system will be. The algorithms underpinning a technology can work almost perfectly when trailed in a lab, but perform poorly in real life settings, where lighting, angles and other parameters are varied.
Bias is another problem
In a 2019 study, NIST found that out of 189 facial recognition algorithms, the majority were biased. Specifically, they were less accurate on people from racial and ethnic minorities.
Even if the technology has improved in the past few years, it’s not foolproof. And we don’t know the extent to which Mastercard’s system has overcome this challenge.
If the software fails to recognise a customer at the check out, they might end up disappointed, or even become irate – which would completely undo any promise of speed or convenience.
But if the technology misidentifies a person (for instance, John is recognised as Peter – or twins are confused for each other), then money could be taken from the wrong person’s account. How would such a situation be dealt with?
Is the technology secure?
We often hear about software and databases being hacked, even in cases of supposedly very “secure” organisations. Despite Mastercard’s efforts to ensure security, there’s no guarantee the third-party providers’ databases – with potentially millions of people’s biometric data – won’t be hacked.
In the wrong hands, this data could lead to identity theft, which is one of the fastest growing types of crime, and financial fraud.
Do we want it?
Mastercard suggests 74% of customers are in favour of using such technology, referencing a stat from its own study – also used by business partner Idemia (a company that sells biometric identification products).
But the report cited is vague and brief. Other studies show entirely different results. For example, this study suggests 69% of customers aren’t comfortable with face recognition tech being used in retail settings. And this one shows only 16% trust such tech.
Also, if consumers knew the risks the technology poses, the number of those willing to use it might drop even lower.
Rita Matulionyte receives funding from Lithuanian Research Council for the research project ‘Government Use of Facial Recognition Technologies: Legal Challenges and Possible Solutions’ (2021-2023). She is affiliated with Australian Society for Computers and Law (AUSCL).
That’s what former prime minister Scott Morrison said Prime Minister Anthony Albanese would be if he asked the Fair Work Commission to grant a wage rise big enough to cover inflation. It would make Albanese a “loose unit” on the economy.
Yet Albanese and his industrial relations spokesman Tony Burke are preparing to do just that ahead of the commission’s deadline of June 7, in time for the increase to take effect on July 1.
The increase would amount to a dollar an hour, lifting Australia’s minimum wage from A$20.33 an hour to A$21.36. New Zealand has just lifted its minimum from NZ$20.00 to NZ$21.20.
Despite what Morrison and his team said about in the campaign about previous governments avoiding recommending specific recommendations, Morrison’s predecessors Fraser, Hawke and Howard did it for years, and state governments are still doing it.
Back in March, when Australia’s official inflation rate was 3.5%, before it had climbed to 5.1%, Victoria recommended 3.5%.
And the government of which Morrison was a part wasn’t shy about telling employers what to pay.
In 2014 its employment minister Eric Abetz counselled “weak-kneed” employers against “caving in” to union demands, setting off a “wages explosion”.
Of course, there’s no guarantee that the Fair Work Commission will heed the new government’s push for a $1 an hour increase.
The commission is perfectly capable of determining what wage rises to grant, after taking into account all submissions. In all but one of the past ten years it has granted more than the prevailing rate of inflation at the time.
Whether it will do that again remains to be seen next month. But to get ahead of that announcement, here’s how the commission explained its thinking in its most recent decision in June last year.
Most workers aren’t on awards
In ruling on a minimum wage increase, what matters most to the commission is employers’ ability to pay (the profits share of national income had climbed during five years in which the wages share had shrunk) and the living standards of Australia’s lowest paid.
Only the lowest paid 2% of workers get the national minimum wage, and a further 23% get the minimum award rates the commission adjusts at the same time.
Last year, the commission found some households on the minimum wage had disposable incomes below the poverty line, and it was reluctant to see them fall further.
It was also reluctant to grant a flat dollar increase that would boost the position of low earners relative to higher earners, saying past flat dollar increases “compressed award relativities and reduced the gains from skill acquisition”.
A percentage rather than a flat increase would particularly benefit women, because, at higher levels, women were “substantially more likely than men to be paid the minimum award rate” and less likely to be paid via contract or an enterprise bargain.
In deciding what percentage increase to award, it gave considerable weight to the most recent increase in the consumer price index (CPI). Right now, that’s 5.1%.
The Commission dismissed suggestions, put forward again in the context of the latest 5.1% increase in the CPI, that it should use the separately calculated “employee living cost” index, which has come in at 3.8%.
The employee living cost index has been climbing by less than the CPI because it includes mortgage rates, which have been falling, whereas the CPI does not.
Low earners aren’t mortgagees
The commission made the point that low-paid workers were less likely to own a home than higher-paid workers, making the CPI a better measure for them.
But not a perfect measure. The Australian Bureau of Statistics has begun dividing the CPI into “discretionary” (non-essential) purchases and other, essential, purchases.
The commission says low income households spend more of their income on essentials than higher earning households, making “non-discretionary” inflation especially relevant. Non-discretionary inflation is running at 6.6%.
The commission rejected suggestions the increase it proposed could push Australians out of work or make it harder for young Australians to find work.
Which isn’t to say that couldn’t happen. During the 1970s and 1980s high wage growth fed both high inflation and high unemployment, so-called stagflation.
Wages aren’t destroying jobs
But back in the 1970s and 1980s, wages were climbing faster than the combination of price growth and productivity growth, making increases hard for employers to pay. Of late, the profits share of national income has been climbing rather than falling, giving employers an increasing ability to pay.
And whereas back then most workers were paid via the awards set by the commission, today most are paid via enterprise agreements negotiated firm by firm, meaning increases in awards only flow through to workers on agreements to the extent that they and employers are able to agree on them.
And what the government is proposing is not an increase markedly greater than inflation of the kind that fed stagflation though the 1970s and early 1980s, but an increase in line with prices – even though employers might be able to pay more.
If what the government is proposing strikes the commission as reckless or dangerous, it will reject it. The increases it has granted to date have added to neither unemployment nor (particularly) to overall wages growth.
Low earners versus homeowners
The commission will certainly reject any suggestion that it ignore the next increase in compulsory superannuation contributions, due to lift employers’ contributions from 10% of salary to 10.5% in July.
The contributions are a cost to employers and a benefit to employees. It has taken them into account in the past.
And it should reject, as repugnant, Morrison’s suggestion that it should clamp down on wage rises for Australia’s least paid so homeowners can continue to enjoy historically unprecedented low mortgage rates.
Homeowners, almost all of them, are much better off than Australia’s least paid.
Peter Martin does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
You showered this morning, are wearing fresh clothes and having an otherwise normal day, when suddenly you notice that stench.
Why do our armpits smell, and why more at some times than others?
It all comes down to an oily secretion from special glands beneath our skin, which are very prevalent under the armpits, and more active at certain times.
And despite what you might have heard on Instagram or TikTok, wiping under your arms with glycolic acid is not the best long-term solution.
The main sweat glands (called “eccrine” sweat glands) covering most of our body secrete primarily water, which is odourless and evaporates to cool us down.
However, our body is also equipped with a second type of sweat gland, called “apocrine sweat glands”.
They’re mostly around areas with lots of hair follicles, such as the armpits and groin. These glands secrete an oily compound, and become more active in response to stress, fear, anxiety, pain, and sexual stimulation.
Initially odourless, this oily secretion provides great food for bacteria living on our skin.
The bacteria convert this sweat into fatty acids, and compounds that produce scents, giving off an odour with smell traces reminiscent of onion, cumin, and rotten meat.
The type of bacteria is relatively consistent between people, but the balance between each type can be different.
Apocrine sweat glands don’t generally activate until puberty, which is why body odour isn’t really a concern when we’re young.
The scent also changes with the production of hormones.
For example, during the menstrual cycle, the most “attractive” smell occurs around the time of ovulation, when women are most fertile. However, the sexual function of body odour doesn’t appear to play a major role in humans.
Nonetheless, there may be some social relevance to our unique scent. Newborn babies can recognise their mother’s armpit smells a few weeks after delivery, and mothers can distinguish the smell of their own baby by about three weeks.
Our sweat gland secretions are odourless, so the longer the bacteria on our skin have to process the oils, the more scented compounds they can produce.
That’s why showering every day helps reduce odour.
Antiperspirants reduce the amount of sweat released by the glands. This is usually due to ingredients such as aluminium, which form a temporary blockage in the glands.
Deodorants work to mask the odours with stronger, pleasant scents. They often also contain alcohols or ingredients that can turn your skin slightly acidic, or make the area less hospitable to bacteria.
Choose clothing wisely. If your skin is moist for a long time it gives bacteria a chance to grow. Clean clothes that allow for good airflow can help keep you smelling fresher for longer during the day.
Caffeine, some medications, as well as some illicit drugs such as methamphetamine, MDMA, heroin and cocaine can increase sweating, which will affect body odour.
You may have heard antiperspirants containing aluminium could cause cancer. The Cancer Council has called this a myth and a rumour, with no scientific studies specifically linking the use of these products to cancer.
Nonetheless, it is wise to consider the cosmetics or chemicals we put on our skin. If you find your antiperspirant or deodorant is causing irritation or rashes, try a product with different ingredients or consult a doctor.
A recent trend on Tik Tok and Instagram suggests using glycolic acid (often used as an exfoliant for the face) on the armpits to reduce smell.
Theoretically, adding this chemical to your armpit will alter the environment under the arms. This can inhibit bacteria growth, and assist to reduce body odour. However, it could irritate the skin, particularly under the arms where there is a lot of friction, and especially if the area was recently shaved.
It will also not inhibit the amount you sweat.
Glycolic acid straight from the bottle will not act for long, as sweat from the armpits will dilute and neutralise its activity. This means even if it works temporarily, you’ll likely be back to your odorous ways pretty soon.
If you’re aiming to avoid chemical products, the best steps to an odour-free life are the obvious ones. Shower daily with soap (and dry off thoroughly), wear breathable fabrics (like cotton, linen or moisture-wicking sportswear), keep your clothes clean, reduce stress and limit your caffeine intake.
Thank you to PhD Candidate Charlotte Phelps for her assistance with this article.
Christian Moro does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
The war in Ukraine is being described as the first social media war, even as “the TikTok war”. Memes, tweets, videos and blog posts communicate both vital information and propaganda, potentially changing the course of history. This highlights the importance of agile and critical social media use.
English in schools, in contrast, still focuses on reading books and writing exam essays. Despite mentions of media in the Australian Curriculum for English, the study of digital writing via social media is not prioritised in senior assessment or national high-stakes testing. This approach seems increasingly out of touch with modern communication.
Meme-ification is a feature of media coverage of the Ukraine war. This new word describes the explosion of ordinary people creating shareable, and potentially influential, digital content.
Anyone with a smartphone and internet access can participate in a war that is being fought both on the ground and on digital platforms. And this content frequently references other popular digital culture. For example, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy is portrayed as Captain Ukraine by photoshopping his head onto Marvel’s Captain America’s body and tweeting this image.
This “writing” contributes to narratives and debates about heroism, military morale, fan fiction and US cultural imperialism. This kind of immediate, vibrant and global communication needs to be the basis of study in English.
The ability to critically consume and strategically create social media is vital to the health of democracies. Yet writing for social media posts and powerful platforms such as Twitter, TikTok and Facebook is not central to how we teach English.
Students need to be able to create memes, write rolling news blogs and produce digital news podcasts, all for networked audiences. They need to determine aims, invent concepts, manipulate images, combine different media, compose compelling text and respect copyright law. This is impactful and purposeful writing to achieve influence in the world.
Research initiatives such as the Digital Self Portrait project demonstrate how students can create vivid new forms of “writing” that explore tensions between their own digitally rich lives and traditional literacies.
Digital writing is often collaborative, and a recent Australian Education Research Organisation review recommends more collaborative writing in classrooms. Community organisations such as Write4Change are making this possible by connecting youth to write together using digital media via private, communal and moderated sites on mainstream platforms.
Yet education’s high-stakes assessment regimes don’t value these forms of writing. Sadly, the National Assessment Program – Literacy and Numeracy (NAPLAN) has narrowed the kinds of writing taught in schools even further. One sample NAPLAN writing task says, basically, “Here is a picture of a box. Write a story about it.”
This approach needs to change so students are practising the forms of writing and communication that are meaningful in today’s world. This will support citizens of the future to participate fully in workplaces and, most importantly, in democracies.
The Australian government, through the Australian Research Council, has recognised this and funded a new study into the importance of contemporary writing in education. This is through a Discovery Early Career Research Award (DECRA) titled Teaching digital writing in secondary English. This project will explore how teachers can conceptualise and enact the teaching of real-world writing.
Of course, studying the classics remains important, as does mastering basic skills. Zelenskyy himself quoted Hamlet in a recent address to the British parliament. So this is not an either/or situation, but what digital writing expert Professor Troy Hicks calls “both/and”. We can study both Hamlet as a play and how other media quote its main character in powerful ways.
Students can themselves explore making strategic literary references in their own social media posts and interventions. The study of rhetoric (argument and persuasion) and aesthetics (cultural value) needs to include diverse media for contemporary relevance.
Human conflicts, projects, imaginings and achievements are now happening in new forms. The devastating theatre of war playing out in Ukraine and online has offered “a masterclass in message”.
If a key aim of Australia’s compulsory literacy education is to “create confident communicators, imaginative thinkers and informed citizens” then students need to learn to communicate in the modes of contemporary society. They need to enjoy the engagement and learning that comes from participating in genuinely important dialogues and situations, even if just in protected classroom and school-based versions of these.
Social media use potentially both threatens and supports democracy. Yet media education remains devalued in the English curriculum and classroom, largely in favour of reproducing print literature forms and essays.
It is time for English to join the 21st century and embrace all the diverse and digital means of communication that are part of our lives today. Our freedom and futures depend on it.
Dr Lucinda McKnight receives funding from the Australian government through the Australian Research Council (ARC). She is a Discovery Early Career Researcher Award (DECRA) recipient.
Industrial relations issues were front and centre when federal Labor last won office from opposition in 2007. The backlash against John Howard’s “Work Choices” reforms cost both his government and his own seat. Kevin Rudd and Julia Gillard’s detailed “Forward with Fairness” policy provided a blueprint for the Fair Work Act that is still in force today.
Workplace issues were nothing like as prominent in the 2022 election. Still, Labor campaigned on the need to address three key issues: wage stagnation, insecure jobs, and gender inequality.
Lifting wages will be a priority for the Albanese government, to help ease the cost of living. But it may also be pressured by both unions and the Greens to go further in addressing problems with the “Fair Work” system.
Tackling the wages crisis
There are many reasons for Australia’s low wage growth over the past decade, not least a loss of bargaining power for workers. Clearly though the problem is not going to fix itself. Policy action is needed. The question is whether Albanese and his colleagues have the answers.
In the first instance, they will look for help from the Fair Work Commission in its upcoming annual wage review. Albanese has expressed support for a minimum wage increase that at least keeps pace with inflation. That could potentially benefit everyone in the workforce whose pay is set by, or linked to, an award.
Beyond that, there are plans to improve pay equity for women. Proposed reforms include requiring large employers to report their gender pay gap publicly, prohibiting pay secrecy clauses, and broadening the Fair Work Commission’s power to redress the undervaluation of work in female-dominated industries.
Labor has also undertaken to improve the enforcement of minimum wage laws. It has committed to introducing criminal penalties for “wage theft” – something the Morrison government promised but failed to do – and ensure workers have a “quick and easy way” to recover underpayments.
What is less clear is whether the Albanese government can bring itself to set a lead for the private sector, both by paying public servants more and by supporting decent wage growth in the many sectors affected by public funding and procurement.
Doing so could have a rich economic and social dividend. But the cost will be a challenge, especially with Labor already committed to supporting and funding significant pay increases for aged-care workers.
Then there is the decline of enterprise bargaining, the process supposed to be the main way of gaining wage rises under the Fair Work system. Just 11% of private-sector employees are now covered by a current (non-expired) enterprise agreement.
Albanese has spoken of a business-union summit – echoing the “consensus” approach taken by the Hawke Labor government in the 1980s – to discuss how to revitalise the bargaining system.
It could certainly be simplified, and much could be gained from a new emphasis on co-operation. Yet much as the new prime minister would like to channel Bob Hawke and rediscover the virtues of tripartism – with employer organisations, trade unions and governments working together – it will take a herculean effort to find consensus.
Many in the labour movement would like to see a reversion to industry-level bargaining, at least in sectors where enterprise negotiations are impractical, as well as a greater role for the tribunal in breaking deadlocks. It will be fascinating to see if those ideas gain any traction over the next three years.
Making work less precarious
In contrast to its silence on bargaining and the role of trade unions, Labor has clear plans to address insecure forms of work. Among other things, it has promised to:
limit casual and fixed-term employment to jobs that are genuinely temporary or irregular
ensure labour-hire workers are paid the same as those directly employed by the business to which they are assigned, and
empower the Fair Work Commission to set minimum wages and conditions for “employee-like” workers, including those finding work through digital labour platforms such as Uber or Deliveroo.
The complexity of many of these issues should not be underestimated. There are many long-term casuals, for example, who prefer to take a pay loading in lieu of leave entitlements they may never use.
Allowing the Fair Work Commission to make an award for certain types of gig worker will not fully address the potential for “sham contracting” arrangements opened up by recent High Court decisions.
It will be interesting to see if the new government moves on these reforms immediately, or perhaps looks for some of them to be explored in greater depth by its promised white paper on the labour market.
A focus on women at work
Post-election analysis has rightly focused on the crucial role played by female voters and candidates. The new government will be doubly keen to implement the parts of its platform that address issues of particular significance to women.
Besides the policies already mentioned on pay equity and insecure work, there is a pledge of cheaper childcare, plus a new right to paid family and domestic violence leave.
Labor will also fully implement recommendations from the Australian Human Rights Commission’s Respect@Work report on sexual harassment. That includes amending the Sex Discrimination Act to create a positive duty on employers to take reasonable measures to eliminate sexual harassment.
Possibly the greatest challenge, however, will be to make a difference in the workplace over which the government has most control – parliament house. Staffers and MPs are entitled to expect not just protection from violence and harassment but greater respect and accommodation.
It will be a very public forum in which to judge the new government’s commitment to fair pay and conditions for working women.
Andrew Stewart 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.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Tim Soutphommasane, Acting Director, Sydney Policy Lab & Professor of Practice (Sociology and Political Theory), University of Sydney
The message from Saturday’s election result was clear: Australians want a political reset. And not just about issues such as government integrity and climate change.
While much attention has been directed at the teal wave of independents, another change is taking place to the composition of parliament.
This Australian parliament is shaping to be the most diverse yet in its ethnic and cultural background. Capital Hill is about to see a substantial injection of colour.
Newly elected members Sally Sitou, Michelle Ananda-Rajah, Sam Lim, Zaneta Mascarenhas, Cassandra Fernando and Dai Le will bolster the non-European representation of the House of Representatives.
The Indigenous ranks of parliament are also set to swell, with the additions of Marion Scrymgour and Gordon Reid in the House, and Jacinta Price in the Senate.
In many ways, it is a fitting result to an election that had its share of controversies about representation.
Labor caused consternation when it parachuted former Senator (and ex-NSW Premier) Kristina Keneally into its then safe southwest Sydney electorate of Fowler, cruelling the prospects of local Vietnamese-Australian lawyer Tu Le.
A second captain’s pick from Anthony Albanese, millionaire former political adviser Andrew Charlton, ran in the western Sydney seat of Parramatta, to the chagrin of local aspirants from multicultural backgrounds.
Such picks left many asking, with good reason: if worthy candidates from non-European backgrounds can’t get preselected in multicultural electorates like Fowler and Parramatta, how can we get more diversity into parliament?
It’s a question that lingers, notwithstanding what this election has delivered.
Still a long way to go
If it feels like a surge of diversity will flow through the parliament, it’s only because there was so little to begin with.
While those from a non-European background make up an estimated 21% of the Australian population, they made up just a tiny fraction of the 46th parliament.
The 47th parliament could feature up to 13 parliamentarians with a non-European, non-Indigenous background, along with nine or ten (depending on final results) parliamentarians of Indigenous background.
That may sound like a strong result – it’s certainly an improvement, and better than how many other major institutions in Australian society perform – but we should put it in perspective.
It would still mean just a tiny fraction of the parliament (no more than 10%) having a non-European or Indigenous background – far less than what you’d see if the parliament actually reflected our society accurately. Australia lags significantly behind the US, UK and Canada and New Zealand.
It’s not all about numbers, of course. We can’t judge the calibre of our parliament solely on whether it’s proportionately representative.
Yet when sections of society can’t see themselves within our public institutions, it is a problem. The very legitimacy, and quality, of those institutions can suffer.
A new phase?
For a long time, calls for greater multicultural diversity in politics have been typically greeted with indifference. It wasn’t an urgent problem. Gender diversity was a higher priority. Political parties didn’t feel the pressure from those supposedly excluded from the system.
That now has changed. Labor has been brutally punished for its Fowler move. A swing of more than 16% saw the seat fall to independent (and former Liberal) Dai Le.
Clearly, being from a non-European background isn’t the electoral handicap political parties have sometimes feared.
Something generational is at play. Australia may once have comfortably accepted that newer arrivals were expected to play the role of the grateful supplicant in their “host society”.
But the children and grandchildren of yesterday’s migrants don’t see themselves as guests in their own country. They aren’t happy refugees or cheerful migrants who are content to know their place. They’re taking their lead less from the Anh Dos of the world and more from the AOCs (Democrat politician Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez) of US politics.
Demands about access and equity for non-English speaking background people have been replaced with calls for the equal treatment of “people of colour” and for attention to “intersectionality”.
We could be seeing a new phase in the evolution of Australia’s multicultural project.
While a triumph in many respects, Australian multiculturalism has to date fallen short on several counts. A celebration of cultural diversity has never been accompanied by a sharing of Anglo-Celtic institutional power. Or, for that matter, by a full reckoning with racial inequality and injustice.
That’s why it will be interesting to observe this new parliament. The very presence of this new ethnic and cultural diversity will, in subtle and not so subtle ways, be felt in Canberra and beyond.
Critical mass matters. It is hard, for example, to imagine a more diverse parliament trying to wind back racial hatred laws (as parliament has done on more than one occasion with respect to the Racial Discrimination Act).
Or to imagine a diverse parliament indulging other periodic bouts of race politics (think of the scaremongering over African gangs in Melbourne or the McCarthyist targeting of Chinese-Australians).
All such excesses become much harder when the people debating such matters have skin in the game.
So don’t mistake the wave of multicultural politicians for being a mere symbolic adornment in Canberra – like the political equivalent of having exotic foods and festivals.
It may feel like a subplot for now, but this could end up being just be as significant as the teal revolution.
Workplaces can be hostile, overwhelming and unwelcoming places for many First Nations Peoples. My research has explored how this is the case in many organisations, including universities.
White organisations often expect First Nations People to take on additional unpaid work such as providing cultural expertise, educating colleagues and additional networking with First Nations organisations. Often this is done without the First Nations person being given any avenue to be promoted to a leadership role.
White people can react negatively when a person of colour questions or tries to change what white people consider common understandings. Due to these environments, it often feels like as academics, we’re unable to examine complicated or complex issues caused by ongoing effects of colonisation – such as racism.
Additional strain for First Nations Peoples
It is not uncommon for First Nations academics to have complaints made about us when we discuss issues such as racism and whiteness. Because the concepts (us) make people feel “uncomfortable”.
Because of the skills First Nations academics gain through education and our positions in universities, there is additional pressure from our families and communities to solve all of the problems we set out to address. However, we have limited power.
First Nations people are often not given opportunities for promotions by the organisation they work for. If we are in leadership roles, we are undermined by white colleagues. However, when First Nations employees try to broach these issues with their employer, we are frequently ignored, framed as “difficult” or labelled a liar.
This can lead to what is called Indigenous identity strain. This is the strain Indigenous employees feel when the perception of their identity is seen as not meeting the expectations of the dominant culture in the workplace.
Identity strain
The consequences that come with this strain are significant:
not being in leadership positions but expected to lead all things Indigenous-related
lack of financial recognition for this, or recognition of the extra work hours
high levels of stress navigating both professional and community roles
having to be a cultural educator, capacity builder or cultural interpreter for colleagues and other staff – including more senior staff
First Nations people are often not considered for promotions because working with Indigenous communities is often not valued, not seen as legitimate or essential to our roles. In addition, there is no support for Indigenous staff when undertaking community responsibilities
when a non-Indigenous staff member is racist, the Indigenous staff member is sometimes expected to address this with no protection from the organisation
Indigenous people having to undertake these additional tasks, and educate white people on the socio-political history of Australia can be traumatic for everyone involved. Often with the Indigenous person having to comfort the non-Indigenous person.
Cultural loads and emotional labour of First Nations people
Cultural loads are the additional responsibilities carried by Indigenous Peoples such as health inequities, racism, socio-economic issues and cultural responsibilities. This can also include white people expecting us to represent and be responsible for all First Nations people. This can be detrimental when certain First Nations individuals act in certain ways – it becomes representative of all us.
Comparatively, white culture seems to not have these kinds of cultural loads. Whiteness does not have a universally accepted definition, and to be white is to be invisible or a neutral presence compared to people of colour.
In addition to these cultural loads, there can be further pressures from white colleagues regarding cultural content.
It is often expected that we will:
always be comfortable doing Acknowledgement of Country – or consistently asked to provide pronunciations and wording for said acknowledgements
understand all the cultural norms of the Country we work on
always be available to share our knowledge (including out of work hours)
be the Indigenous representative on every committee
additional engagement with Indigenous students, clients, and families
Although it is important to recognise white privilege, not getting paralysed by white guilt is paramount. White guilt is motivated by recognition of unearned privilege but blocks critical reflection because white people end up feeling they are individually to blame for all forms of racism.
However, white people must stop using “good intentions” to excuse lack of knowledge and understanding of diverse peoples’ cultures and issues.
To be an effective ally, one must go beyond being well-intentioned actions, and perceived outcomes such as recognition for their efforts. What is critical is being conscious of values such as respect, humility, and commitment.
Allies are not wanted if they only want to be performative or being viewed by others as “supportive”. Being dedicated to creating a world with justice and equity requires white people take accountability and responsibility. This includes self education about First Nations issues and learning to sit with the discomfort of uncomfortable truths.
If First Nations Peoples and People of Colour are to have additional responsibilities or tasks in the workplace, we should be paid and compensated accordingly for the additional workload. Alternatively, there should be a designated person for that kind of work. In addition, more First Nations People must to be provided pathways to leadership roles .
To do this, organisations need to draw on the abilities, knowledges, governance and leadership of First Nations Peoples without exploitation.
This requires commitment to social and structural change and investing in diversity and inclusion. It is vital for organisations to de-centre whiteness and be more accessible for the cultural needs of First Nations Peoples.
Kelly Menzel 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.
Anthony Albanese campaigned on better pandemic management. Giving the vaccination program a shot in the arm will be his first test.
Not long ago, every shipment of vaccines was a news item and people were queuing around the block to get a jab.
Today, despite rising COVID cases and deaths, Australians seem to have lost interest. The vaccination rate for third doses has almost stalled.
Speeding up third doses will be critical to protecting Australians against Omicron variants as we move into winter. But without a focus on equal access, that protection will remain uneven.
After a shaky start, Australia got near the top of the charts for second dose coverage.
But only about half the population has had a third dose. That puts us back in the middle of the OECD pack, and we’re falling further behind the leaders.
At the current rate, it would take about two years for every Australian who had a second dose to get their third. That’s not nearly fast enough to improve protection before winter.
The flu season is looming, and hospitals are facing a perfect storm heading into winter: emergency departments overflowing, elective surgery wait lists ballooning, and the health workforce stretched to the limit.
Against Omicron, protection falls quickly after the second dose, until a third dose boosts it and keeps it higher for longer.
That makes high third dose coverage important. It’s also easier than the other steps required for a comprehensive plan to reduce severe illness from COVID, such as national ventilation standards, better access to tests, more antiviral doses, and promoting mask use.
Compared to those measures, vaccination is straightforward. We’ve bought the doses, we’ve done it before, and it’s effective and safe.
But we’re moving too slowly overall, and parts of the country are being left behind.
There are wide gaps in coverage
The Department of Health publishes data on the proportion of the eligible population that has received second and third doses in different parts of Australia (the international comparison above uses the share of the whole population).
Our analysis shows that the share of eligible Australians without a third dose is three times higher in the least-vaccinated areas compared to the most-vaccinated.
This problem isn’t new. By early November in 2021, half of the local areas in Australia had reached 80% second dose coverage. Today, about one in 20 still haven’t made it.
It’s not random who misses out. Poor areas are more likely to have low vaccination rates (see chart below), even though they should have the highest.
People living in poor areas are more exposed, because more of them have in-person jobs and live in larger households. If they get infected, their chance of severe illness is higher, because they are more likely to have risk factors such as chronic disease. Low vaccination coverage only adds to their risk of harm.
Likewise, people living in remote areas have lower vaccination, as do Aboriginal people in many parts of Australia, even though these groups are at greater risk.
A key lesson of Victoria’s second wave in 2020, and NSW’s in 2021, is the importance of vaccinating people at higher risk, including those in lower-income areas, to slow the spread of COVID and reduce severe illness. The data show this critical lesson of the pandemic has not been learned.
Getting higher – and fairer – vaccination rates will require national and local action.
Government advertising and political leadership helped raise the vaccination rate before. The Albanese government should lead the way on third doses, promoting the importance, safety, and impact of vaccination.
The government should set ambitious coverage targets for vulnerable groups and areas, and support tailored, local solutions to achieve them.
Primary Health Networks (PHNs) are regional bodies responsible for improving primary care, which is health care given outside a hospital, typically without a referral. That includes vaccinations at GP clinics and community pharmacies. Their role includes improving access to care for people at risk of missing out. PHNs should work with local communities to lift third dose rates, with new funding for the PHNs that have the lowest rates in their area, linked to targets they must hit.
Local barriers are different from place to place, but there are many proven ways to overcome them. Clinics reaching out to people is effective. Aboriginal-controlled services can play a critical role in their communities. There is experience here and overseasabout partnering with community leaders and organisations, countering distrust, and vaccinating in different community settings.
Tough vaccine mandates have worked to increase uptake. If other measures fail, and hospitalisations rise, they should be considered again.
Without strong leadership, the vaccination rate will remain low and uneven. Getting it right will make a difference now and give us the playbook for the next dose, the next vaccine, and the next pandemic.
Peter Breadon 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.
The Dutch have long been recognised as leaders in cycling. Denmark is not far behind, with more bikes than cars in its capital Copenhagen. This is the result of many years of investment. Even the UK, with less of a cycling tradition, is investing and showing growth in cycling.
Investment in cycling is often motivated by the need to curb emissions and to increase rates of active transport. But the backlash can sometimes seem as large as the level of spending.
New Zealand spends around $5 billion per year on transport. On average, over the past decade, 41% was spent on maintaining existing roads, 38% on building new roads, 17% on public transport and 1.7% on walking and cycling.
Some critics argue cyclists do not pay for cycle infrastructure.
But transport funding comes from several sources, including central government funds such as fuel excise duty (paid on petrol purchased), road user charges (paid by diesel vehicle owners), vehicle registration and licensing, and local government funds from rates. One-off investments have come from the NZ Upgrade Programme and the Provincial Growth Fund.
Many of these sources come from general taxation, which cyclists pay. Most people who commute by bike usually also own a car and therefore pay for registration and licensing.
Increasing the number of cyclists will benefit the economy since research shows cities with more physically active people are more productive. The evidence for investing in cycle infrastructure is compelling.
A recent review of over 170 studies found places designed to encourage walking and cycling have lower rates of obesity and diabetes.
New Zealand research confirms overseas findings that cyclists are exposed to healthier air than car drivers. Segregated cycle lanes, even a small distance from traffic, improve air quality.
Some people raise concerns about the safety of cycling, with data showing injury and fatality rates are higher for cyclists for each kilometre travelled. However, the more people cycle, the safer it becomes for all road users.
The standard tool to inform transport decisions is the benefit-cost ratio. A UK government report found the average benefit-cost ratio for walking and cycling projects delivers benefits 13 to 35 times the cost.
In New Zealand, transport planners estimate money spent on high-quality cycling infrastructure yields benefits between ten and 25 times the costs.
Research clearly shows the biggest barrier to cycling is perceived safety. Segregated cycleways are key to feeling safe, and infrastructure should be a mix of separate cycling facilities along roads with heavy traffic and at intersections, combined with extensive traffic calming of residential neighbourhoods, coupled with lower speed limits.
The physical separation from traffic comes at a higher cost and these expensive projects tend to attract the headlines, such as the proposed Auckland Harbour crossing.
But many cycle routes use lower speeds and simple traffic management to create a cycle-friendly environment. Overall, cycleways are cheap compared with other transport infrastructure.
Evidence shows the number of people cycling is related to the quality and quantity of infrastructure provided. This has been demonstrated in the US, UK, Denmark and most recently in a European study which examined the impact of temporary cycle infrastructure “popping up” as a COVID transport solution.
The issue of whether cyclists should be registered or licensed has generated debate. The arguments for registration include:
some form of registration would provide legal accountability
registration could raise funds to pay for cycle infrastructure
the process would include a cycling test to improve cyclists’ safety.
The arguments against include:
complication and confusion deciding who and what to include (children, tricycles, people who never ride on the road etc)
creating a barrier to people on low incomes who use a bike because they cannot afford a car
cyclists already paying for cycle infrastructure through their taxes.
Ultimately, the main reasons against registration are bureaucracy and cost. The UK government concluded the cost and complexity of introducing such a system would significantly outweigh the benefits.
One frequent complaint is that when cycleways replace on-street parking, businesses suffer. But research does not support this.
According to Bloomberg CityLab, multiple studies have reached a similar conclusion: replacing on-street parking with a bike lane has little to no impact on local business, and in some cases might even increase business.
Evidence from the US suggests people who travel by bike spend more. A small New Zealand study supports this.
A study in London found “an increase in cycling trips significantly contributes to the emergence of new local shops and businesses”. In New Zealand, there is some evidence a growing number of businesses appreciate the benefits of cycleways.
Poor weather is a barrier for some people, but not one of the most significant ones. Rates of commuter cycling do not vary dramatically by season. Cycling rates in Christchurch in winter are only 10% lower than during other times of the year.
While US research has shown cycling declines in bad weather, a New Zealand study calculated that someone cycling to work every day in the main cities would only get wet six times a year.
What really stops some people hopping on a bike is that they don’t feel safe cycling in traffic. As Chris Boardman, an Olympic gold medallist cyclist and now commissioner for Active Travel England, said, we can tackle our biggest crisis and “all we have to do is make nicer places to live”.
Simon Kingham is seconded to the New Zealand Ministry of Transport as their Chief Science Advisor
Anthony Albanese campaigned on better pandemic management. Giving the vaccination program a shot in the arm will be his first test.
Not long ago, every shipment of vaccines was a news item and people were queuing around the block to get a jab.
Today, despite rising COVID cases and deaths, Australians seem to have lost interest. The vaccination rate for third doses has almost stalled.
Speeding up third doses will be critical to protecting Australians against Omicron variants as we move into winter. But without a focus on equal access, that protection will remain uneven.
After a shaky start, Australia got near the top of the charts for second dose coverage.
But only about half the population has had a third dose. That puts us back in the middle of the OECD pack, and we’re falling further behind the leaders.
At the current rate, it would take about two years for every Australian who had a second dose to get their third. That’s not nearly fast enough to improve protection before winter.
The flu season is looming, and hospitals are facing a perfect storm heading into winter: emergency departments overflowing, elective surgery wait lists ballooning, and the health workforce stretched to the limit.
Against Omicron, protection falls quickly after the second dose, until a third dose boosts it and keeps it higher for longer.
That makes high third dose coverage important. It’s also easier than the other steps required for a comprehensive plan to cut COVID cases, such as national ventilation standards, better access to tests, more antiviral doses, and promoting mask use.
Compared to those measures, vaccination is straightforward. We’ve bought the doses, we’ve done it before, and it’s effective and safe.
But we’re moving too slowly overall, and parts of the country are being left behind.
There are wide gaps in coverage
The Department of Health publishes data on the proportion of the eligible population that has received second and third doses in different parts of Australia (the international comparison above uses the share of the whole population).
Our analysis shows that the share of eligible Australians without a third dose is three times higher in the least-vaccinated areas compared to the most-vaccinated.
This problem isn’t new. By early November in 2021, half of the local areas in Australia had reached 80% second dose coverage. Today, about one in 20 still haven’t made it.
It’s not random who misses out. Poor areas are more likely to have low vaccination rates (see chart below), even though they should have the highest.
People living in poor areas are more exposed, because more of them have in-person jobs and live in larger households. If they get infected, their chance of severe illness is higher, because they are more likely to have risk factors such as chronic disease. Low vaccination coverage only adds to their risk of harm.
Likewise, people living in remote areas have lower vaccination, as do Aboriginal people in many parts of Australia, even though these groups are at greater risk.
A key lesson of Victoria’s second wave in 2020, and NSW’s in 2021, is the importance of vaccinating people at higher risk, including those in lower-income areas, to slow the spread of COVID and reduce severe illness. The data show this critical lesson of the pandemic has not been learned.
Getting higher – and fairer – vaccination rates will require national and local action.
Government advertising and political leadership helped raise the vaccination rate before. The Albanese government should lead the way on third doses, promoting the importance, safety, and impact of vaccination.
The government should set ambitious coverage targets for vulnerable groups and areas, and support tailored, local solutions to achieve them.
Primary Health Networks (PHNs) are regional bodies responsible for improving primary care, which is health care given outside a hospital, typically without a referral. That includes vaccinations at GP clinics and community pharmacies. Their role includes improving access to care for people at risk of missing out. PHNs should work with local communities to lift third dose rates, with new funding for the PHNs that have the lowest rates in their area, linked to targets they must hit.
Local barriers are different from place to place, but there are many proven ways to overcome them. Clinics reaching out to people is effective. Aboriginal-controlled services can play a critical role in their communities. There is experience here and overseasabout partnering with community leaders and organisations, countering distrust, and vaccinating in different community settings.
Tough vaccine mandates have worked to increase uptake. If other measures fail, and hospitalisations rise, they should be considered again.
Without strong leadership, the vaccination rate will remain low and uneven. Getting it right will make a difference now and give us the playbook for the next dose, the next vaccine, and the next pandemic.
Peter Breadon ne travaille pas, ne conseille pas, ne possède pas de parts, ne reçoit pas de fonds d’une organisation qui pourrait tirer profit de cet article, et n’a déclaré aucune autre affiliation que son organisme de recherche.
If your next car is not electric, then it must be much smaller than your last one.
Scientists have warned that the world needs to halve emissions every decade to keep global warming less than 1.5 degrees above pre-industrial levels.
The government of Aotearoa New Zealand aims to reduce greenhouse gas emissions to net zero by 2050.
Last year, the Climate Change Commission (CCC) laid out the path to net zero in its advice to the government. In recent weeks, the government has released its plan to achieve these climate targets.
The goal is not insignificant, especially considering New Zealanders have been buying bigger vehicles for nearly two decades.
To achieve net zero by 2050, New Zealand must reduce total CO2 emissions by a third before 2030, and another third by 2040.
How to target a third of emissions
How can we reduce New Zealand’s emissions by a third every decade?
Around 20% of New Zealand’s emissions come from the transport sector.
Both the government and commission see removing carbon from transport as the low-hanging fruit in the emissions reduction journey (in part because the government and farmers are still working on a plan to reduce the 50% of emissions that come from agriculture).
As part of its plan, the government intends to help low-income households reduce their transport emissions and make 30% of the light vehicle fleet electric by 2035.
But the government’s road map to achieve this seems light on details.
To reduce transport emissions, the commission proposed New Zealanders should walk, cycle, use electric bikes and scooters more, and drive less.
The good news is electric bike and scooter sales are booming in New Zealand and are predicted to overtake new car sales in the next couple of years.
Town planners are also starting to take these modes of transport into account when planning new ways for us to get around our cities.
The commission recommends that public transport and motive transport (using our own energy to get around by walking and biking), which currently make up just 6% of all travel, should increase to 14% by 2035 to achieve the emission reduction goals.
The government has promised to invest in public transport, and will introduce a zero-emissions public bus mandate by 2025. But it has resisted calls to permanently extend the three month half-fare initiative currently in place.
New cars need to be smaller
To reduce emissions by a third every decade, New Zealand needs fewer cars on the road. But we also need to decarbonise the cars and trucks we do have, and we need to do it fast.
Barriers to achieve this include New Zealand’s ageing vehicle fleet, which is one of the oldest in the developed world. The average car is 14 years old, and the average age of cars when scrapped is 20 years old.
Approximately 150,000 cars are scrapped each year, out of a vehicle fleet of 4.4 million. This means it will take 30 years to turn over the entire fleet. That’s too slow if we want to reach net zero emissions by 2050.
People replace their vehicles on average every six to 11 years. In real terms, this means every time you replace your car it needs to produce 30% less emission than the one being replaced to meet reductions targets.
The problem is, the average engine size of our cars grew steadily between 2000 and 2010, and stayed steady between 2010 and 2020. This decade has to be the one where engines get smaller.
But our obsession with large cars continues to grow. The Ford Ranger has been the most popular new car in New Zealand for the past couple of years.
Globally, sport utility vehicles (SUVs) grew from 16% of new car sales in 2010 to 45% of new car sales in 2021.
SUVs were the second largest contributor to the increase in global carbon emissions from 2010 to 2018 – bigger than either heavy industry or aviation. If SUVs were a country, they would be the seventh biggest emitter in the world.
There is no need for massive SUVs in an urban setting and they are too often used as a status symbol rather than a workhorse.
Lucky for SUV owners, vehicle manufacturers will soon be mass producing large electric utes. Electric vehicle (EV) charging infrastructure is well on it’s way to being universal, and the energy industry is gearing up to supply the resulting large increase in electricity demand.
Battery technology is coming on apace, finding ways around using rare earth metals such as cobalt, which have a high environmental and social cost.
EVs cost more upfront but have lower running costs, so the lifetime purchase and running costs of a new EV is already lower than an internal combustion engine (ICE). The up-front purchase price of a new EV is projected to be cheaper than ICEs by 2031.
But for many who usually drive cheap used cars, the up-front cost will remain prohibitive for some time unless the government comes up with more incentives than the the existing discount scheme. Supply chains to source the number of second hand EVs we need are not guaranteed either.
To achieve net zero, your next car will need to be electric or, at least, be two-thirds the size of your current car. Our obsession with driving cars, and with big vehicles in particular, must change.
We need to walk and bike more, or commute to work on electric bikes or scooters, and our cities need to be designed around bike lanes and better subsidised public transport. We need to stop using our vehicles as status symbols and buy smaller cars.
What will we get in return? Our children will get a planet they can actually live on.
Jen Purdie receives funding from the Deep South Science Challenge, and is an employee of the University of Otago.
A commemoration has been held in French Polynesia to mark the 20th anniversary of the disappearance of a leading opposition politician in the Tuamotus.
Boris Léontieff, who headed the Fetia Api party, was among four politicians travelling in a small plane on a campaign trip when it disappeared without a trace.
The commemoration was held in Arue where Léontieff was the mayor.
The case was closed 11 years ago after investigations failed to conclude why their plane vanished, with theories suggesting the pilot lacked experience and might have encountered fuel problems.
There had been speculation there may have been foul play or that the aircraft may have been diverted.
The politicians’ wives had approached the French president to explore if the United States took satellite images of the Tuamotus at the time of the presumed crash.
Her lawyer, James Lau, told a local newspaper that it was established that Leontieff was under surveillance by the secret service of then-president, Gaston Flosse.
Lau said the same spying effort was directed at Leontieff’s advisor and journalist, Jean-Pascal Couraud, who also disappeared without leaving a trace in 1997.
An investigation was first opened in 2004 after a former spy claimed that Couraud had been kidnapped and killed by the GIP, which dumped him in the sea between Mo’orea and Tahiti.
Murder charges against two members of the now disbanded militia, the GIP, were dismissed a decade later, after incriminating wiretaps were ruled inadmissible because they were obtained illegally.
This article is republished under a community partnership agreement with RNZ.
I’m curious about what will happen if, hypothetically, someone moves with speed (that is) twice the speed of light? – Devanshi, age 13, Mumbai
Hi Devanshi! Thanks for this great question.
As far as we know, it’s not possible for a person to move at twice the speed of light. In fact, it’s not possible for any object with the kind of mass you or I have to move faster than the speed of light.
However, for certain strange particles, travelling at twice the speed of light might be possible – and it might send those particles back in time.
A universal speed limit
One of our best physical theories at the moment is the theory of relativity, developed by Albert Einstein. According to this theory, the speed of light operates as a universal speed limit on anything with mass.
Specifically, relativity tells us that nothing with mass can accelerate past the speed of light.
To accelerate an object with mass, we have to add energy. The faster we want the object to go, the more energy we’ll need.
The equations of relativity tell us that anything with mass – regardless of how much mass it has – would require an infinite amount of energy to be accelerated to the speed of light.
But all of the sources of energy we know of are finite: they are limited in some respect.
Indeed, it’s plausible the Universe only contains a finite amount of energy. That would mean there isn’t enough energy in the Universe to accelerate something with mass up to the speed of light.
Since you and I have mass, don’t expect to be travelling at twice the speed of light anytime soon.
Tachyons
This universal speed limit applies to anything with what we might call “ordinary mass”.
There are, however, hypothetical particles called tachyons with a special kind of mass called “imaginary mass”.
There is no evidence tachyons exist. But according to relativity, their possible existence can’t be ruled out.
If they do exist, tachyons must always be travelling faster than the speed of light. Just as something with ordinary mass can’t be accelerated past the speed of light, tachyons can’t be slowed down to below the speed of light.
Some physicists believe that if tachyons exist, they would constantly be travelling backwards in time. This is why tachyons are associated with time travel in many science fiction books and movies.
There are ideas that we might someday harness tachyons to build a time machine. But for now this remains a distant dream, as we don’t have the ability to detect potential tachyons.
It’s disappointing we can’t travel faster than the speed of light. The nearest star to us, other than the Sun, is 4.35 light years away. So, travelling at the speed of light, it would take more than four years to get there.
The farthest star we’ve ever detected is 28 billion light years away. So you can pretty much give up on charting the entire Universe.
That said, relativity does allow for the existence of “wormholes”.
A wormhole is a shortcut between any two points in space. While a star might be 4.5 light years away in normal terms, it might only be a few hours away via a wormhole.
If there are any actual wormholes, they would let us travel great distances in a very short period of time – allowing us to get to the farthest reaches of the universe within a single lifetime.
Unfortunately, like tachyons, wormholes remain entirely hypothetical.
Strange possibilities
Despite the fact we can’t genuinely travel faster than light, we can still try to imagine what it would be like to do so.
By thinking in this way, we are engaging in “counterfactual thinking”. We are considering what things would, or might, be like if reality was different in some way.
There are many different possibilities we could consider, each with a different set of physical principles.
So we can’t say with any certainty what would happen if we were able to travel faster than light. At best, we can guess what might happen. Would we start to travel back in time, as some scientists think tachyons might do?
I’ll leave it to you and your imagination to come up with some ideas!
Sam Baron receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Frank Bongiorno, Professor of History, ANU College of Arts and Social Sciences, Australian National University
Political commentators often use the idea of a political spectrum from left to right as shorthand for understanding political ideologies, parties and programs. Derived from the arrangement of the National Assembly in the French Revolution, it has been a remarkably resilient form of political shorthand.
Is it useful is explaining what has happened in the 2022 Australian federal election?
The customary way of considering such matters has been to regard the Liberals and Nationals as parties of the right, and Labor and the Greens as parties of the left. Terms such as centre right and centre left have sometimes been used to provide greater refinement, seen to be necessary especially with the proliferation of xenophobic and extreme parties further to the right in many countries. The term “centre party” has sometimes been used for smaller parties that seem to sit between the others, however uncomfortably – the Australian Democrats was an example.
If the spectrum does indeed remain a useful concept, an argument can be made that the 2022 election discloses an electoral shift to the left. It is perhaps the most significant since the combined momentum of the elections of 1969 and 1972 that brought the Whitlam government to office.
Changes of government in federal politics don’t happen often. There have been eight since the second world war, and three of those were in a turbulent decade between late 1972 and early 1983. Australian voters are in the habit of returning governments and they tend not to discard an incumbent lightly. When they do, it is reasonable to ask if it signals some wider shift in voter attitudes and leanings.
In particular, Australian voters have normally clung tightly to non-Labor governments. Joseph Lyons won three elections before the war as leader of the United Australia Party (no relation to Clive Palmer’s), while Robert Menzies won seven from 1949 for Liberal-Country party coalitions. His successors managed another couple between them, taking their tally to 23 years of continuous rule.
John Howard won four times for almost 12 years, and Malcolm Fraser three for just over seven. The Coalition government that has just been defeated won three elections under three different leaders. All up, since House of Representatives elections became largely a two-way competition between a government and an opposition in 1910, non-Labor has governed for two-thirds of the time and Labor for one-third.
Labor’s primary vote at this election is on present counting at a historic low of about 32%, but the emphasis placed on this might be producing a misreading of the electoral mood. Once preferences are distributed, the party is currently tracking for a two-party preferred vote of about 52% to the Coalition’s 48%. If maintained, that will be fractionally behind the vote received by Gough Whitlam in 1972 and Kevin Rudd in 2007 (both 52.7%), and just over a point behind Hawke in 1983 (53.2%).
We have used the preferential system, known internationally as the Alternative Vote, for House elections since 1918. By the standards of federal elections, in 2022 voters have announced a clear preference for a party regarded as “centre left” or “progressive” over one that is “centre right”, “conservative” or even “liberal”.
The opposition that Australians have been prepared to send into government is led by a man whom few would regard as having the charisma of John Curtin, Gough Whitlam, Bob Hawke or Kevin Rudd. Anthony Albanese displays sincerity, integrity and authenticity, which gave him advantages in comparison with a prime minister whose popularity was in decline. But it is unlikely he has inspired the support that these earlier Labor leaders could mobilise on the basis of strength of personal appeal. He may do so in time, but not this time.
Albanese pursued a small-target strategy, which might lead one to doubt his election signifies much at all. But this is only part of the story. As the campaign developed, Albanese sounded increasingly in tune with values normally understood as in Labor’s DNA.
He stood up to media and Coalition bullying over his support for maintaining the real wages of low-paid workers. He talked of universal provision in childcare, which has a Whitlamite feel to it. He signalled a strong commitment to the Uluru Statement From the Heart. His language was about caring, co-operation and collaboration, of “we” and “us” more than “you” or “me”.
Labor took seats from the Coalition – a point that is perhaps being lost in the understandable emphasis on the victories of independents and Greens. The swing to Labor in Western Australia looks like it will be between 10% and 11% – no doubt entangled in the politics of the pandemic, but a radical shift nonetheless in a state where Labor usually struggles.
Labor will win seats from the Coalition in Sydney, Melbourne, Perth and Adelaide. Indeed, the Coalition has been nearly wiped out in all of these cities by a combination of Labor, independents and, in Melbourne, Greens.
Labor’s national swing looks to be about 3.6%. As a result, many of its own seats have become safer while it is now in striking distance of Coalition ones. Aston in Melbourne’s affluent eastern suburbs, held by Alan Tudge and an outer island in a sea of red, teal and green, has moved from safe to marginal. Coalition hopes that it could take Hunter in view of the large swing gained there in 2019 and the supposed strength of pro-coal opinion now look faintly ridiculous.
In Brisbane, the Greens have taken seats – possibly three – from both Labor and the Liberals. This might be considered an unambiguous shift to the left by inner-city electorates in Brisbane, although not one from which Labor has been able to benefit.
It is a major breakthrough for the Greens in the lower house, where they previously had just their leader, Adam Bandt, representing Melbourne. This success will greatly magnify their standing in the new parliament, where the government will often need Greens support in the Senate even if it gets a House of Representatives majority.
Greens success will equally worry Labor strategists concerned about their own inner-city strongholds, just as the party’s larger inability to win seats in regional Queensland will remain of concern. But even here, Labor has managed a two-party preferred swing of over 5% on present counting, which might place some seats in striking distance next time.
The rise and rise of the independents has rightly been the story of the election. The central issues of their campaign – climate change, anti-corruption and gender equality – have been turned into the property of “progressives” and “the left” through the ham-fisted efforts of Scott Morrison and the Coalition, support of now questionable value from the Murdoch media, and the place of the environment in the right’s culture wars.
Climate and energy policy, more than any other issue, now defines what it is to be “conservative” and “progressive” in Australia. This is the handiwork of a succession of powerful conservative politicians who saw political advantage in this framing and enjoyed their parties’ relationship with the fossil fuel industry. Tony Abbott, Morrison and Barnaby Joyce have been among the most influential.
They may now behold their achievement. The Liberal Party is a drastically depleted and demoralised force. The Coalition might fall apart. The right-wing populist minor parties such as Pauline Hanson’s One Nation and Clive Palmer’s United Australia Party have performed poorly, with Hanson’s Senate seat in danger – another measure, perhaps, of a general shift to the left.
Australia will have the most progressive parliament for many years. And the Coalition will have some deep soul-searching to do, possibly under a leader – Peter Dutton – who will be a strange but unavoidable choice for a party that needs both to soften its image and change its substance to have any hope of avoiding many years in the wilderness.
Frank Bongiorno is a member of Kim For Canberra (Senate election) and has donated to Climate 200.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Patricia A. O’Brien, Faculty Member, Asian Studies Program, Georgetown University; Visiting Fellow, Department of Pacific Affairs, Australian National University; Adjunct Fellow, Center for Strategic and International Studies, Washington DC., Georgetown University
The federal election has delivered a monumental win for Australia’s relations with the Pacific. The stunning victories of the teal and Greens candidates means climate action will be at the top of the new government’s agenda.
In one fell swoop, the Pacific’s leading source of deep frustration with Australia is back at the centre of policy debate. The Australian government and its Pacific neighbours are now much closer to being on the same page.
This is a profoundly important turn of events, allowing other much-needed improvements to Australia’s regional image and outreach.
When it comes to the Pacific, the new government must be bold and go big.
To repair our relationship with the Pacific, the new government must make swift decisions addressing the climate emergency.
During the campaign, Labor equivocated about its stance on coal, fearing losses in vital “coal country” seats.
But Australian voters have made clear that they want action on climate.
As a result, Labor’s governing mandate – enforced by the teal independents and the Greens – will likely involve the winding down of Australia’s coal industry.
This is doing right by the Pacific – and by fire and flood-ravaged Australia, too.
The new government must effect this change in ways that secure a strong future for coal country people.
Otherwise, the politics of coal that have marred Australia’s Pacific relations will undoubtedly be revived.
A big repair job ahead
Addressing the climate crisis should be the first order of business for the new government. But the new government has a lot of other repair work ahead of it.
Under the Coalition, Australia’s record of relations with the Pacific ran the gamut from positive, to checkered, to tone-deaf, to downright embarrassing.
Take, for example, the confounding election night revelation the Morrison government rejected doubling the Pacific aid budget in the wake of the Solomon Islands-China security deal.
Despite such decisions, the Morrison government was fond of using the sentimental slogan “our Pacific family”. It rang profoundly hollow, given it left the greatest existential crisis facing “our family” unaddressed.
What has Labor promised on the Pacific?
Labor is using the language of “our Pacific family” too, but has pledged to back it up with a broad-ranging Pacific policy announced during the campaign.
The policy pledges include:
establishing an Australia Pacific Defence School
boosting maritime assistance support and development assistance
developing climate infrastructure financing and
reforming the Pacific Australian Mobility Scheme (criticised in the past for failing to address exploitation).
Labor also signalled it will issue 3,000 visas annually to boost permanent migration “for nationals of Pacific Island countries and Timor-Leste”.
While this is a step in the right direction, Labor’s migration and labour goals are too modest.
Its vital Australia addresses the low numbers of Pacific Islanders living in Australia. Boosting these numbers in Australia opens economic and educational opportunities of Pacific Islanders, but also directly benefits home islands through remittances.
The Solomon Islands High Commissioner to Canberra, despite the acute tensions between Australia and his government due to the China security deal, has underscored how vital worker access to Australian jobs is, saying:
If only the scheme can be extended to the whole of Australia and metropolitan cities like Sydney, Brisbane, Wollongong, Perth, Melbourne, Adelaide, Newcastle, Gold Coast, where the demand for plumbers, bricklayers, caregivers is huge.
This fills labour market gaps. It also generates earnings and valuable skills on islands, like the Solomons, that face high rates of youth unemployment (which feeds social unrest).
The incoming government should take heed – there is no better way to build and secure bridges between Australia and the Pacific than by creating job opportunities for Pacific Islanders in Australia.
The way forward for the new government must also help raise Australian literacy and understanding about the islands.
School children should learn about Australia’s Pacific history and Pacific cultures as a matter of course.
Australia’s universities must expand opportunities for Australian students to learn about the Pacific and establish on-island campuses.
This would facilitate circulation of people, learning and expertise between Australian and island-based campuses.
It would represent an excellent investment but would need government support.
Reckoning with history
Australia also needs to reckon with its Pacific history, focusing on colonial Papua New Guinea and the history of “blackbirding” – where Pacific Islanders were lured or taken forcibly to work in Australia.
The Australian War Memorial could also do a better job of educating Australians about Australia’s military history of “pacifying” islanders.
Prime Minister Anthony Albanese also must follow the example of New Zealand Prime Ministers Helen Clark and Jacinda Ardern. Both formally apologised for past policies and practices that caused untold harm to the Samoan people and peoples from Niue, Tokelau and the Cook Islands.
Albanese should issue a similar apology for the people of Papua New Guinea, the Solomons and Vanuatu.
Only by providing civic education and acknowledging a troubled past can more Australians appreciate the immense debt Australia owes the Pacific Islands.
Patricia A. O’Brien received funding from the Australian Research Council as a Future Fellow, the Jay I. Kislak Fellowship at the John W. Kluge Center, Library of Congress, Washington D.C. and New Zealand’s JD Stout Trust.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Sarah Hellewell, Research Fellow, Faculty of Health Sciences, Curtin University, and The Perron Institute for Neurological and Translational Science, Curtin University
Loss or alteration of taste (dysgeusia) is a common symptom of COVID. It’s also a side effect of several illnesses and medications, including Paxlovid, the new antiviral medication to treat COVID infection.
Although it affects fewer than 6% of people who are given Paxlovid, some report a “horrible” taste that came on soon after they started taking the drug.
Dysgeusia is described as a bitter, metallic or sour taste in the mouth. But what exactly is it, and what’s going on in the body when it happens?
Aside from the pleasure we get from eating food that tastes good, our sense of taste also serves other purposes. Taste helps us decide what to eat, ensuring we get enough nutrients and energy. It also helps us metabolise the foods we have eaten.
Our sense of taste can also keep us safe from consuming things that are dangerous to our health, such as poisons or food which has spoilt.
There are around 10,000 taste buds in the human mouth, with each taste bud having up to 150 taste receptors. These taste receptors on our taste buds help detect whether food is salty, sweet, bitter, sour or umami.
Taste buds transmit information to the brain about what we’re eating through several nerve pathways.
Information about taste is first transmitted to the brain stem at the base of the brain, and is then sent throughout the brain via connected pathways, reaching the orbitofrontal cortex at the front of the brain. This area connects to sensory areas and the limbic system that helps encode memory and emotion.
Aside from direct damage to the tongue and mouth, dysgeusia can be caused by several factors: infection or disease, medicines, or damage to the central nervous system.
1. Infection or disease
Alterations in taste have been reported after influenza infection, in hayfever, diabetes, heart disease and others.
Today, one of the most frequent causes of dysgeusia is COVID, with loss of taste one of the first symptoms many people experience. Research suggests dysgeusia occurs in between 33% and 50% of people with COVID, though less so with newer variants. It’s also been reported as a lingering symptom of Long COVID.
Scientists don’t know exactly why COVID or other infections cause dysgeusia. Some recent theories centre on how the SARS-CoV-2 virus that causes COVID triggers an inflammatory response by binding to receptors in the mouth. This might cause changes in molecular and cellular pathways which could alter taste.
Because of the close links between taste and smell, viral-induced damage to the lining of the nose may be enough to cause taste disturbance.
The virus could also be causing more direct damage to taste buds, nerves involved in taste, or brain areas responsible for taste sensory processing.
This could be because of lesions in the nerves or brain tissue, or could be due to loss of the fatty myelin coating which helps insulate the pathways used for taste signalling. In rare cases, dysgeusia can also be due to brain tumours.
3. Medications
Dysgeusia is a known side effect of several medications, including antibiotics and medications for Parkinson’s disease, epilepsy and HIV.
There could be several reasons for this. The medications themselves may have a bitter taste which lingers in our taste buds.
Medications can also activate specific taste receptors that detect bitter, sour or metallic flavours, activating these taste receptors in a way that we don’t often experience with our food.
The new antiviral medication Paxlovid is almost 90% effective at reducing COVID hospitalisations and deaths.
However, dysgeusia is a prominent side effect of Paxlovid. Although it occurs in less than 6% of people, dysgeusia has been nicknamed “Paxlovid mouth”.
Paxlovid is actually two medications: nirmatrelvir and ritonavir. Nirmatrelvir is the main antiviral drug to combat COVID, and Ritonavir is given at the same time to stop nirmatrelvir being broken down too quickly, so it can remain active in the body for longer.
Ritonavir has a bitter taste and causes dysgeusia when taken alone or in combination with other medications. Although the mechanism has not been researched, Ritonavir could be the underlying factor behind Paxlovid mouth.
Leaving a bad taste
While it can be unpleasant, dysgeusia is usually short-lived, and should improve after medications are finished or infection is resolved.
People who experience prolonged changes in taste should seek medical assessment to determine the underlying cause. In the short term, lozenges, mints and salt water gargles may make dysgeusia more manageable. Although it may be an unpleasant size effect of Paxlovid, short-term dysgeusia is a palatable trade-off to reduce the serverity of COVID infection.
Sarah Hellewell does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Despite New Zealanders’ close connection with the oceans, very few will have heard of “temperate mesophotic ecosystems” (TMEs). Even fewer will appreciate their importance for coastal fisheries, and possibly climate change mitigation.
TMEs typically occur at depths of between 30 and 150 metres – the twilight zone of our oceans, where little sunlight remains. But science is beginning to shed light on these remarkable ecosystems, and the need to protect them.
While there has been plenty of research on the deep oceans (greater than 200m) and the shallow seas (less than 30m), TMEs have received surprisingly little attention. They have only been recognised as distinct ecosystems in the past 15 years.
TMEs are beyond the reach of most scientific divers, but the recent development of relatively small and cheap remotely operated vehicles (ROVs) now allows greater access to these extraordinary undersea regions.
ROVs, such as the New Zealand-made Boxfish, can be deployed from small boats and are equipped with high-resolution cameras and robotic arms to identify organisms and collect specimens. We’re now able to regularly observe TMEs and our understanding of them is growing rapidly.
What do rocky TMEs look like?
Unlike the shallow seas, which are generally dominated by habitat-forming fleshy seaweeds, TMEs are dominated by animals.
At their shallowest, they support a mixture of seaweeds and animals, but as you descend deeper into low light conditions, encrusting algae and unique animal species begin to dominate.
Animals adapted to low light conditions include sponges, sea fans and sea squirts. Indeed, recent research from New Zealand found sponges can occupy more than 70% of the available space on rocky TMEs.
Given these ecosystems are likely to be widespread throughout temperate seas, it’s feasible that sponges might be even more abundant than algae in coastal ocean regions.
Ecological and economic importance
While we still know little about the ecology of TMEs, they’re important in several ways for wider coastal ecosystems.
The three-dimensional nature of the sponges and other animals that dominate TME habitats creates structural complexity on the sea floor. This provides a home to a range of organisms, from small and juvenile fish to crabs, that are likely to use this habitat to evade predators.
Also, many fish species migrate between shallow water and these deeper twilight ecosystems, likely looking for food and shelter.
The sponges that dominate TMEs filter large volumes of water and are able to capture dissolved carbon and transform it into detritus. Scavengers such as small crustaceans and worms can eat sponge detritus. Subsequently, these little creatures are eaten by larger organisms (like fish) higher up the food chain.
TMEs are therefore likely to be extremely important to coastal fisheries.
Our evaluation of depth-related changes in temperature suggests TMEs could also be important in the mitigation of climate change impacts, particularly marine heat waves that drive extremes in sea water temperature.
We’ve found water temperature in the depths where TMEs occur is usually several degrees lower than at the surface, which may provide a refuge for mobile fish species from shallow waters.
Furthermore, if shallower populations are damaged by human activity, then deeper water TME populations may be able to replenish them by providing larvae.
Human impacts on TMEs
While TMEs are likely to be affected by the same anthropogenic factors as surface waters, some specific stressors may have a greater impact.
The domination of TMEs by many upright (often slow-growing) tree-like forms, including sponges and sea fans, makes these ecosystems particularly vulnerable to physical disturbance.
Rocky TMEs often overlap with fisheries that use pots and traps, such as for lobsters and crabs. These fishing activities can smash and damage sponges and sea fans, which may take many years to recover.
The domination of rocky TMEs by filter-feeding organisms, and their proximity to the surface, makes them susceptible to the impacts of increased sediment in the water column, which increases turbidity and the amount of sediment settling on organisms.
Increased sediment might result from changes in land use in coastal areas, for example from construction or farm conversions, or from trawling, dredging or sea-floor mining.
Our recent analysis has shown very few of the rocky TMEs across the world’s oceans have been explored and characterised. Even fewer are protected as part of existing management and conservation frameworks.
In most places where they are protected, it’s usually a side effect of protecting shallow-water ecosystems that border TMEs.
The diverse and ecologically important communities found in TMEs need greater recognition and protection of a unique biodiversity we’re only now coming to properly understand.
James Bell receives funding from The George Mason Charitable Trust and the Department of Conservation
Alice Rogers, Francesca Strano, and Valerio Micaroni do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Christine Grové, Fulbright Scholar and Adjunct Senior Lecturer, School of Educational Psychology & Counselling, Monash University
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Psychological distress is on the rise among young people in Australia. The implications of COVID-19 and the strain on the training and availability of psychologists are likely to add to the mental health challenges and hinder young people’s ability to get help.
Social isolation, loneliness and uncertainty due to COVID-19 have contributed to a decline in the mental health of Australian youth. Young people in our research and other studies do not feel well equipped to manage their mental health. This is concerning as the onset of mental illness peaks at 14.5 years of age, and about one in seven Australian youth experience mental illness.
Currently, schools address mental health and well-being through a social and emotional learning curriculum. Some have school counsellors or psychologists to offer students individual or group support.
However, research shows more than a third of young people with mental health problems do not seek professional help. This is due to limited mental health knowledge and awareness of how to seek help, and negative attitudes towards mental illness.
Schools are one setting to base such programs. Young people spend much of their childhood and adolescence in school where the environment is already geared towards supporting learning and development.
We used online group discussions as a forum for young people to give their perspective on current mental health education in the curriculum and whether it’s meeting their mental health literacy needs. Thirteen young Australians took part in these discussions in 2021.
What did the students tell us?
Our study participants expressed concern that they do not receive enough information about mental health in school. They also find it difficult to identify appropriate help sources. They told us:
“I haven’t been happy with […] how little they talk about mental health.”
“They don’t really talk about how you can help other people deal with it [mental health], so, like, then it […] is harder to help your friends.”
Informal sources of help such as family, friends and the internet were the most common avenues for seeking help. Young people were less likely to go to formal sources such as a mental health professional or general practitioner.
Young people are not confident about supporting a friend who may be experiencing mental health challenges for fear of crossing a boundary or saying the wrong thing.
Stigma and negative attitudes towards mental illness exist despite many mental health initiatives and campaigns to normalise mental health challenges.
Young people described mental health as a “hush-hush topic”, with language relating to the issue often framed negatively.
A lack of mental health knowledge was seen as contributing to stigma. As one young person said:
“When people don’t understand something […] they become afraid of it.”
The youth in our study suggested discussing mental health in schools and normalising mental health difficulties can reduce this stigma.
Though mental health can be a sensitive topic, young people believe it is important to understand and learn about it at school with others that are experts on mental health.
Schools are the right place to learn about mental health
Young people want schools to teach them how to recognise mental health challenges and practical coping strategies. They observed that discussions of mental health in school are often in response to crises or a stressful time such as exams. These discussions are usually rushed and not comprehensive.
There is a need to proactively talk about mental health with students throughout their schooling. This will build their mental health literacy, as one young person told us:
“If you’re equipped with everything you need to know prior to that experience [mental health issues] you could better tackle that and you could better bounce back from that difficult time in the future if you’re equipped with the knowledge of how to overcome that issue.”
Youth want to learn about mental health at all year levels. Some felt frustrated that they didn’t learnt appropriate coping skills before entering secondary school.
From the perspectives of the young people in our study, more needs to be done in schools to improve mental health literacy.
There is evidence that preventive mental health approaches are effective. School-based mental health literacy programs are one way to overcome the lack of mental health education in Australia.
Schools exist to support the learning and development of young people, which should include fostering good mental health and increasing mental health literacy.
Christine Grové is a fellow of the College of Educational and Developmental Psychologists, a member of the Australian Psychological Society, and the American Psychological Association, and a member of The United Nations Association of Australia Academic Network.
Alexandra Marinucci is a member of the Australian Psychological Society, and the College of Educational and Developmental Psychologists.
Readers are advised this story includes depictions of domestic violence and violence against women.
Domestic violence was endemic in the Roman world.
Rome was a slave-owning, patriarchal, militarised culture in which violence (potential and actual) signalled power and control.
Tragically, but predictably, the names of most of the victims of domestic violence do not show up in the historical record. And yet the identities of a handful of victims survive.
Nero’s second wife Poppaea Sabina was kicked to death while pregnant. His first wife Octavia and his mother Agrippina were murdered on his orders.
According to her epitaph, Julia Maiana was killed after 28 years of marriage. Appia Annia Regilla, an aristocratic woman and wife of the Greek author Herodes Atticus, was murdered while pregnant. Prima Florentia was drowned. Apronia was thrown from a window.
The love poets Ovid and Propertius depicted relationships with “Corinna” and “Cynthia” involving physical abuse.
John Chrysostom, a church father, described the nightly shrieks of women echoing through the streets of Antioch.
Relationships between members of the Roman household (both free and enslaved) were characterised by significant power imbalances – a scenario ripe in possibilities for physical, sexual and psychological abuse and coercive control.
The head of the Roman household, the pater familias, was famously powerful. His power included the so-called “power of life and death” and ownership of the property of even adult children within his control.
His wife might exercise violence and coercion (for instance against slaves, lovers, or children) and be its victim.
With a society-wide belief in correctional education, children were often victims of violence. There is also scattered evidence for elder abuse and the routine sexual and physical abuse of slaves.
Legal responses to domestic violence
The autonomy and authority of the pater familias, the comparative ease with which a Roman marriage could be dissolved and endemic inequality have been viewed as reasons why Rome did not develop specific domestic violence legislation.
But a patchwork of Roman laws (including Rome’s complex murder laws) sought to address coercive and violent behaviour.
The first Roman emperor, Augustus (27 BCE until 14 CE), brought in anti-adultery legislation, criminalising extra-marital sexual activity. This legislation was a deliberate and unprecedented intrusion into the realm of the family, including limits on circumstances under which a father could kill his daughter.
Stalking and sexual harassment were illegal – although the law focused on preserving a woman’s chastity, not on the perpetrator’s desire to control or terrify his victim.
The emperors Theodosius (379 to 395) and Valentinian (364 to 375) accepted physical abuse as a just cause for divorce – but this appears to have been revoked under the emperor Justinian (542).
The emperor himself was known on occasions to have taken an interest in specific domestic murder cases, but his intervention probably depended on the status and connections of the complainants.
Laws which incidentally addressed abuse and coercive control were much more common. Roman laws offered extensive and detailed legal provision for dowries, wills and inheritance. Laws provided recourse for a child wrongfully disinherited and worked against a pater familias who intentionally cheated a wife out of her dowry.
The need for these laws opens a window on a world of abuse.
If the law rarely directly addressed domestic violence, a public rhetoric of “good fatherhood” did seek to speak to family duties and relationships.
Exemplary fathers exercised self-control and restrained their anger. They showed severity and pietas (familial duty) rather than cruelty.
This rhetoric was made use of by the emperor Hadrian (117 to 138) who exiled a father who had killed his son.
The emperor Trajan (98 to 117) also ordered a father who was maltreating his son to set him free since he viewed the treatment as a breach of pietas.
Of course, not all acts of violence were punished. When Egnatius Mecenius beat his wife to death with a club for being drunk (a story dating back to the legendary days of Romulus), he was commemorated for his exemplary severitas (acceptable strictness).
The voices of women
Roman matrons could be respected and influential figures within both household and state.
The ancient Roman historian Livy gave an account of the public murder of Verginia by her father, who killed her in order to protect her chastity from an abuser.
In his telling of the story, Livy examines the public presence of women during the incident. He depicts a crowd of respectable matrons standing with Verginia throughout her ordeal, jostling her accuser.
Their weeping moved the crowd of onlookers more than her father’s complaints.
After her murder, Livy reports the women lamented loudly and publicly: the actions of the male protagonists are highlighted through the protesting voices of the matrons.
The presence of domestic violence in ancient Rome may not be surprising. But of interest is how Romans formulated limited legal and non-legal challenges to cultures of violence and how we can continue to interrogate such responses today.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Adrian Beaumont, Honorary Associate, School of Mathematics and Statistics, The University of Melbourne
With 73% of enrolled voters counted, the ABC is calling 73 of the 151 House of Representatives seats for Labor, 54 for the Coalition, 15 Others and nine in doubt. Labor is likely to win Lyons, while the Coalition should win Bass, Cowper and Sturt. The Coalition is currently just ahead in both Deakin and Gilmore.
Labor would need to win two of the three other undecided seats if they miss out on Deakin and Gilmore. The Coalition will lose Brisbane to either Labor or the Greens. Current primary votes there are 37.0% Coalition, 28.0% Greens and 27.8% Labor. Whichever of Labor and the Greens goes out first elects the other on preferences.
Macnamara and Richmond are both Labor-held seats that the Greens are threatening. In both seats, Labor currently has a primary vote lead over both the Greens and the Coalition. If it’s Labor vs Greens, Labor wins on Coalition preferences. If it’s Labor vs Coalition, Labor wins on Greens preferences.
Labor only loses these seats if they finish third after minor candidates are distributed (a “three candidate preferrred”). The ABC rates both Richmond and Macnamara as likely Labor. If they win both these seats and Lyons, they reach the magic 76 seats needed for an outright House majority. But we may not know for sure until after the June 3 deadline for reception of postals.
Current primary votes are 35.8% Coalition (down 5.7% since 2019), 32.8% Labor (down 0.5%), 11.8% Greens (up 1.5%), 4.9% One Nation (up 1.8%), 4.2% UAP (up 0.7%) and 10.5% for all Others (up 2.2%). The ABC’s two party estimate is 51.9-48.1 to Labor, a 3.4% swing to Labor.
Disproportionate single-member system
Why is Labor likely to win a house majority even though their national primary vote is down 0.5% from the 2019 election to just 32.8%? Australia uses a single member system for the house, and such systems are disproportionate.
If Labor wins a majority, it would be because they finish in the top two in the overwhelming majority of seats, and then win a large share of preferences whether their opponent is the Coalition or the Greens, as Coalition how to vote cards put Labor ahead of the Greens.
The one situation where Labor will not do well on preferences is when facing an independent. Had Labor’s national primary vote been higher, Kristina Keneally may have survived in Fowler.
Here are two examples from the UK of very disproportionate outcomes from first past the post with single-member electorates. In 2005, Labour defeated the Conservatives by 35.2% to 32.4% nationally with 22.0% for the Liberal Democrats. But Labour won 355 of the 646 House of Commons seats (55% of seats).
In 2015, the Conservatives defeated Labour nationally by 36.8% to 30.4% with 12.6% UK Independence Party and 7.9% Lib Dems. The Conservatives won 330 of the 650 Commons seats (51% of seats).
Single-member systems are very landslide-prone, and there have been two recent Australian state elections where one of the major parties has nearly been wiped out of the lower house of parliament.
At the Queensland 2012 state election, the LNP defeated Labor by 49.7% to 26.7% on primary votes and by 62.8-37.2 after preferences. The LNP won 78 of the 89 seats and Labor just seven. But Labor recovered to win the 2015 Queensland election.
At the Western Australian 2021 election, Labor crushed the combined Liberals and Nationals by 59.9% to 25.3% on primary votes and 69.7-30.3 after preferences, resulting in a lower house of 53 Labor, four Nationals and just two Liberals.
An argument can be made that single-member systems shut out minor parties and provide stable government. But if you want a more proportional outcome, you need a proportional system, not a single-member system.
Issues with the count
The Australian Electoral Commission
(AEC) provides a live two party count that currently has Labor ahead by 52.2-47.8. But this excludes all the seats where Labor and the Coalition were not the final two candidates.
There will be a special Labor vs Coalition count in all these seats in a few weeks, once the main results are finalised. I believe the ABC uses the swing in the seats currently counted between Labor and the Coalition to project the national two party.
On election night, there were many seats where the AEC selected the wrong two candidates for the final count. These counts need to be re-done with the correct candidates. But early votes counted between the correct candidates are often unrepresentative of the overall primary votes in that seat.
For example, the initial preference count in Ryan was between the Coalition and Labor, and this is now being re-done between the Coalition and Greens. The AEC still has the Coalition just ahead, but the ABC applies preference flows to the full primary votes, giving the Greens a 53.2-46.8 lead.
Adrian Beaumont 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.
The transition from one government to another involves a democratic miracle and a physical mess.
In parliament house’s ministerial wing on Monday, shredding machines were working flat out, fragments of their massive output leaving a light snowstorm on the blue corridor carpet as it was carted away.
Cardboard boxes had been delivered; enormous wheelie bins were everywhere. How many hours had gone into preparing and working on all those papers suddenly no longer needed, or needing quick and confidential disposal?
On the Labor side, the move into power has the air of disorderly order. Staffers still carry a touch of that slightly casual demeanour of opposition. Many frontbenchers are preparing for their new responsibilities from existing digs in other places.
With Anthony Albanese and Penny Wong attending the meeting of the QUAD (comprising the US, Japan, India and Australia) in Tokyo on Tuesday, they and a handful of colleagues were sworn in early Monday.
In what must be some kind of record, Deputy Prime Minister Richard Marles is already acting prime minister, minding Labor’s new shop until Albanese returns on Wednesday. Marles, who was shadow minister for national reconstruction, continues coy about whether he’ll be defence minister.
Treasurer Jim Charmers and Finance Minister Katy Gallagher are starting cautiously on the work of government, mindful of (as Labor kept saying in the campaign) not getting ahead of themselves until the whole ministry is in place.
Last seats are still being finalised. Labor will have a bigger frontbench reshuffle than earlier anticipated, with Kristina Keneally failing to win the Sydney seat of Fowler and Terri Butler defeated in her Brisbane seat of Griffith. Keneally had home affairs and Butler the environment portfolio in opposition.
At Albanese’s first news conference in the prime minister’s “blue room” the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander flags had been added to the always-present Australian flag.
Albanese said Labor’s caucus would meet on Tuesday next week, and the new ministry would be sworn in Wednesday. The ministry will then meet, as will the cabinet national security committee and the expenditure review committee.
The prime minister said he thought his government would reach majority.
But anyway, he’d had discussions with the re-elected crossbenchers Rebekha Sharkie, Bob Katter, Andrew Wilkie, Helen Haines and Zali Steggall. He’d received confirmation from them “that they would not support any no confidence motions against the government and that they would also secure supply.”
“They will consider legislation on its merits,” he said, adding “I will treat them with respect.”
The government would “resume parliament in a very orderly way”, Albanese said, without specifying when, beyond saying it would be before the end of July, and might be much earlier.
“There is a number of international events some of which are public, some of which are not, which need to be accommodated,” he said. “The other issue is, I will try to run a family-friendly parliament – there are school holidays in July.”
The new PM was anxious to send a message of “how valued our public servants are”.
The arrangements around his trip to Japan were organised in pre-election consultations with the public service, and Labor seems impressed with the briefings frontbenchers received to discuss their portfolio areas in the event of a win.
Albanese’s message contrasted with Scott Morrison’s more dismissive attitude towards the bureaucracy, which he saw as part of the “Canberra bubble”.
“We won’t be sacking public servants,” Albanese said. “We will be valuing public servants and respecting them.”
But the most senior federal public servant, Phil Gaetjens, who headed the prime minister’s department under Morrison and had come under sustained Labor attack for being political, was already gone. Jumped before he was pushed, it seems. The Australian Financial Review reported he went on leave.
Albanese met with the Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet on Sunday, when a deputy secretary, Stephanie Foster became its acting head. The new secretary will be announced soon.
Like Labor, the opposition parties will meet next week.
On Monday Alan Tudge, who had made himself scarce during the campaign, emerged to declare unequivocally “Peter Dutton will be [Liberal] leader”.
Josh Frydenberg finally conceded in Kooyong, while Liberal senator Sarah Henderson said the party needed him back into the parliament.
Various Liberals debated whether the party should move to the left or the right.
Meanwhile the Nationals were, as usual, looking counter-intuitive.
With the Liberals losing a swag of seats, the Nationals held all theirs, and gained an extra senator. But in teal seats the name of Nationals leader Barnaby Joyce was constantly invoked, and the Liberals suffered by way of association with him.
There are now muttering about whether there could, or should, be a challenge against Joyce.
Former leader Michael McCormack has not ruled out a move, and eyes are on deputy leader David Littleproud.
Joyce told the ABC on Monday night: “I’m quite at ease with the democratic process”.
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.