The BBC has removed its documentary Gaza: How to Survive a Warzone from iPlayer after it was revealed that its teenage narrator is the son of a Hamas official.
The broadcaster stated that it was conducting “further due diligence” following mounting scrutiny.
The film, which aired on BBC Two last Monday, follows 13-year-old Abdullah Al-Yazouri as he describes life in Gaza.
However, it later emerged that his father, Ayman Al-Yazouri, serves as the Hamas Deputy Minister of Agriculture in Gaza.
In a statement yesterday, the BBC defended the documentary’s value but acknowledged concerns.
“There have been continuing questions raised about the programme, and in light of these, we are conducting further due diligence with the production company,” the statement said.
The revelation sparked a backlash from figures including Friday Night Dinner actress Tracy-Ann Oberman, literary agent Neil Blair, and former BBC One boss Danny Cohen, who called it “a shocking failure by the BBC and a major crisis for its reputation”.
On Thursday, the BBC admitted that it had not disclosed the family connection but insisted it followed compliance procedures. It has since added a disclaimer acknowledging Abdullah’s ties to Hamas.
UK’s Culture Secretary Lisa Nandy said that she would discuss the issue with the BBC, particularly regarding its vetting process.
However, the International Centre of Justice for Palestinians urged the broadcaster to “stand firm against attempts to prevent firsthand accounts of life in Gaza from reaching audiences”.
Others also defended the importance of the documentary made last year before the sheer scale of devastation by the Israeli military forces was exposed — and many months before the ceasefire came into force on January 19.
‘This documentary humanised Palestinian children’ Chris Doyle, director of the Council for Arab-British Understanding (CAABU), criticised the BBC’s decision.
“It’s very regrettable that this documentary has been pulled following pressure from anti-Palestinian activists who have largely shown no sympathy for persons in Gaza suffering from massive bombardment, starvation, and disease,” Middle East Eye quoted him as saying.
Doyle also praised the film’s impact, saying, “This documentary humanised Palestinian children in Gaza and gave valuable insights into life in this horrific war zone.”
Journalist Richard Sanders, who has produced multiple documentaries on Gaza, called the controversy a “huge test” for the BBC and condemned its response as a “cowardly decision”.
Earlier this week, 45 Jewish journalists and media figures, including former BBC governor Ruth Deech, urged the broadcaster to pull the film, calling Ayman Al-Yazouri a “terrorist leader”.
The controversy underscores wider tensions over media coverage of the Israel-Gaza war, with critics accusing the BBC of a vetting failure, while others argue the documentary sheds crucial light on Palestinian children’s suffering.
Another teenager who appears in the Gaza documentary . . . she has o global online following for her social media videos on cooking and life amid the genocide. Image: BBC screenshot APR
I am writing to you as a Palestinian and a survivor of genocide, who was born and raised in Gaza — a city of love and resilience.
I have read your statements about Gaza and frankly, I am confused.
You claim to be a “peacemaker”, but encourage Israel to continue its genocide, calling for “all hell” to break loose if your demands are not fulfilled.
Mr Trump, we have already been through hell. We lost 60,000 martyrs in it.
You claim credit for the ceasefire deal, and yet your government — one of its guarantors — refuses to pressure Israel into fulfilling all its obligations under it.
You call Gaza a “demolition site” but conveniently fail to name the criminal responsible — while simultaneously supplying it with more bombs, funding, and diplomatic cover.
You talk about Palestinians being “safe” and “happy”, yet you refer to us as if we are a burden to be offloaded onto Jordan, Egypt, or any country willing to take us.
You claim that we “only want to be in the Gaza Strip because [we] don’t know anything else”.
“Gaza is not [President Trump’s] business venture, and it is not for sale. Gaza is our home, our land, our inheritance.” Image: Instagram/#flyer_for_falastin/@tahiapretiti
You profoundly misunderstand us
Mr Trump, I think you profoundly misunderstand who we are and what Gaza is to us.
You may think of us as a mere obstacle to your vision of luxury resorts, but we are a people with deep roots, long history, and unalienable rights.
We are the rightful owners of our land.
Gaza is not your business venture, and it is not for sale.Gaza is our home, our land, our inheritance.
And no, it is not true that we want to stay here because we “know nothing else”.
Although the 17-year-long Israeli siege has made life incredibly difficult for us, some of us have still managed to travel — for education, medical treatment or work. But these people still return because Gaza is home.
He earned his master’s degree in the UK and later completed his PhD at Universiti Putra Malaysia.
Despite having the opportunity to stay abroad, he chose to return to Gaza, where he taught creative writing and literature at the Islamic University.
He also co-founded We Are Not Numbers, an initiative that paired young Palestinian writers with experienced authors to amplify their voices and resist occupation through storytelling. One of these voices is mine.
Last spring, I, too, had the opportunity to leave, but I decided against it. I could not leave my family, friends and Gaza amid a genocidal war. However, like many others, I plan to travel to complete my education and then return to help rebuild and support my people.
The Palestinian way This is the Palestinian way – we seek knowledge and opportunities, not to abandon our homeland, but to build and strengthen it.
Speaking of building — you talk about your plans to turn Gaza into “the Riviera of the Middle East”. The thing is, Gaza was the Riviera of the Middle East. Our ancestors built it into a flourishing trade hub, port city and cultural centre. It was “magnificent” — to use your words — until Israel was created and it started destroying it.
And yet, after every brutal Israeli assault on Gaza, Palestinians would rebuild. Despite all the Israeli violence, restrictions and thievery, Palestinians still made sure Gaza was a safe place with a cosy rhythm of life, where its youth were doing their best to pursue decent livelihoods, where families were happy and together, and where homes thrived.
Israel has now tried to reduce all of Gaza to rubble and death so we are no longer able to live in it. You have picked up on the idea, effectively endorsing our ethnic cleansing under the veneer of humanitarianism.
No, Mr Trump, we will not be “happy” and “safe” elsewhere.
But I agree with you on something else you said: “You’ve got to learn from history”. Indeed, history teaches us that settler-colonialism in modern times is unsustainable. In this sense, your plans and Israel’s plans are doomed to fail.
We, the people of Gaza – like any Indigenous people – refuse to be uprooted. We refuse to be dispossessed. We refuse to be forced into exile so that our land can be handed to the highest bidder. We are not a problem to be solved; we are a people with the right to live in our homeland in freedom and dignity.
No amount of bombs, blockades, or tanks will make us forget that. We will not be relocated, resettled, or replaced.
Power and wealth will not decide the fate of Gaza. History is not written by thieves – it is written by those who resist, by the will of the people. No matter the pressure, our connection to this land will never be severed. Surrender and abandonment are not an option. We will honour our martyrs with resistance by nourishing this land with love, care and remembrance.
Wishing you all the best in your futile pursuits,
Hassan Abuqamar Gaza, Palestine
This open letter was first published by Al Jazeera.
One of the leading Middle East’s leading political and media analysts, Marwan Bishara, has accused President Donald Trump of applying a doctrine of ‘strategic coercion” and “economic blackmail” in his approach to the Gaza ceasefire.
Bishara, senior political analyst of the Doha-based Al Jazeera global television network, was responding to the news that Trump has apparently backed off his plan for expelling more than 2 million Palestinians from their Gaza homeland and to redevelop it as the “Riviera of the Middle East”.
He has now been describing it as a “recommendation” that would not be enforced.
“The idea that Trump starts with [about taking over Gaza] is mad. But there is a method to the madness,” Bishara said.
“The method to the madness, you can see it in the context of Trump’s doctrine, if you will – and that is strategic coercion and economic blackmail.
“In fact, he started his administration by inviting [Israeli Prime Minister] Netanyahu to Washington, blessing him with all kinds of support . . . and blackmailing Egypt and Jordan into accepting two million refugees, or else — and then asking them to come up with something else.”
Bishara said he expected the Trump doctrine to be applied elsewhere in the world, such as with his efforts to end the war in Ukraine.
‘This kind of strategic coercion of Arab countries on behalf of the United States and Israel, and economic blackmail — I think we’re going to see it as part of the Trump doctrine throughout the world.
President Trump’s walkback on his “Riviera” plan for Gaza. Video: Al Jazeera
‘Surprised’ over opposition The US president had said in a radio interview with Fox News that he was “a little bit surprised” that Jordan and Egypt had voiced opposition to his plan to “take over” Gaza and displace Palestinians.
“I’ll tell you, the way to do it is my plan — I think that’s the plan that really works,” Trump said.
“But I’m not forcing it, I’m just going to sit back and recommend it.
“And then the US would own the site, there’d be no Hamas, and there’d be development and you’d start all over again with a clean plate.”
A former Egyptian deputy foreign affairs minister to the European Union, Gamal Bayoumi, said the “informal” meeting in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, of the leaders of several Arab countries to discuss an Egyptian counterproposal had led to the softening of Trump’s stance.
Speaking from Cairo, Bayoumi said Trump had appeared “inexperienced concerning international law” and the Middle East, saying the US president’s plan “has no logic . . . to ask the Palestinians to leave their own country.”
A thin crystal is bent elastically when pressed with a metal probe. UQ/QUT
We are all familiar with elastic materials – just think of a rubber band which can return to its original shape after being stretched.
Humans have used elastic materials for millennia. These days, they’re in everything from optical fibres to aeroplanes and buildings. But until now, scientists haven’t been able to pinpoint exactly how these materials return to their original shape. What happens at the level of their molecules?
Our findings will allow us to develop new ways of designing components for complicated aerospace and building materials or electronic devices.
The mystery of elasticity
A material is elastic if it can return to its original structure after being deformed. For example, a rubber band goes back to its original shape after it’s been stretched. However, it will snap if pulled too hard. This is known as a “non-elastic change” – it means the material can no longer return to its original shape.
The most useful elastic materials can undergo large changes in their structures and still return to their original shape. There are many engineering uses for this. As one example, bridges are designed to move elastically in high winds to prevent them from falling down.
All materials are at least a little bit elastic: they can restore themselves after very small changes in structure. If you shake a piece of paper, it will still lie flat. But if you fold it, the crease is permanent – a non-elastic behaviour that is essential for origami.
Prior to our research, there were two main approaches to understanding elasticity.
In the 17th century, Robert Hooke first described how elastic materials work. He discovered that the force needed to stretch an elastic material is proportional to the distance it is stretched, and described this mathematically.
However, knowing this doesn’t provide much insight for chemists and physicists like ourselves, who work to develop new materials with better elastic properties.
More recently, computers have been used to calculate the elastic properties of a material using its structure and the basic laws of physics. But while it’s nice for a computer to understand the problem, it doesn’t necessarily make it easier for humans to grasp. This is where our work on flexible crystals comes in.
How can a crystal be flexible?
Crystals, which are normally hard and brittle, are made up of a repeating pattern of atoms or molecules. Because the atoms or molecules are stacked neatly in place, it is hard to move them.
This is why diamond – a crystal of carbon atoms – is hard, while coal, also mostly made of carbon but not a crystal, is soft and crumbly.
In the flexible crystals we have developed, there are weak interactions between the molecules. These crystals are made of a combination of simple organic molecules and metal ions.
Interactions between them allow the crystals to be bent so much, they can be tied in a knot without the crystal breaking.
Our new approach allows humans to understand how the subtle interactions between molecules in crystals give rise to elasticity.
A flexible crystal in the shape of a thin strand is tied in a loose knot.
We first used X-ray diffraction, a technique for determining the positions of atoms and molecules in crystals, at the Australian Synchrotron. This allowed us to understand how the arrangement of molecules in our flexible crystal changes when it’s bent.
We then used a computer to model the interactions between pairs of molecules. Our results showed these interactions could be used to calculate elasticity just as accurately as theoretical models of the entire crystal.
So, what makes our crystal highly elastic? Our results show that none of the interactions between atoms are “happy” with the structure of the crystal when it is bent. Some would like it to move one way, others in the opposite direction. They have to compromise.
This means the molecules and atoms don’t strongly resist to changes, making the crystal highly elastic despite its molecular structure which is typical of a regular, inflexible crystal.
We could not have learned this with either of the traditional approaches for analysing elasticity.
A single crystal cantilever prepared with a steel ball approximately 55 times the mass of the crystal. The ball rises back higher than the neutral position against gravity when the force holding it is released. UQ/QUT
We were also able to calculate how much energy is stored within a crystal when it is bent, and found it was enough for the crystal to lift a mass 30 times its own weight one metre in the air. This is similar to shooting an arrow with a bow. When you draw the bow, you store elastic energy. Upon the release of the arrow, that elastic energy is transformed into kinetic energy – movement.
Our flexible crystals are not yet robust enough to be used in the construction of bridges or skyscrapers.
But the new understanding our study brings to elasticity could lead to new ways of preparing smart devices, wearable electronics, or even components for spacecraft.
Jack K. Clegg receives funding from the Australian Research Council
Ben Powell receives funding from the Australian Research Council and the Queensland Government.
John McMurtrie receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
Hydrogen was once sold as a universal climate fix — a clean, green wonder fuel for cars, homes, power grids and even global export. But reality has cooled that buzz.
This week, the South Australian government shelved plans for a A$593 million hydrogen power plant, in favour of injecting that money into the $2.4 billion Whyalla steelworks rescue package. Premier Peter Malinauskas said there was “no point in producing hydrogen” without a customer: the steelworks.
Meanwhile, the Hydrogen Energy Supply Chain project in Victoria, meant to ship hydrogen to Japan, has met with delays and overruns. Earlier this month, the new Queensland government chose to halt further investment in the Central Queensland Hydrogen Project, putting plans to export hydrogen in doubt.
These setbacks show hydrogen isn’t the ultimate solution to all our energy needs, especially if we want to export it. But they don’t spell doom. Instead, they nudge us toward where hydrogen really shines: in heavy industry, right where it’s made.
Heavy industry: where hydrogen makes sense
Heavy industries such as steel manufacturing and ammonia production are where hydrogen proves its worth. These sectors are significant contributors to climate change — steel accounts for about 8% of global greenhouse gas emissions, ammonia a further 2%.
Most emissions from steelmaking come from burning coal in blast furnaces to convert ore into iron and carbon dioxide.
In a cleaner alternative, hydrogen (when produced using renewable energy) can be used to strip oxygen from the ore and make iron, with water as a byproduct. The result is green iron, ready to be turned into steel in an electric arc furnace – with a fraction of the emissions.
Ammonia is used to make fertiliser and industrial chemicals, and hydrogen is one of the main ingredients in its production. Hydrogen bonds with nitrogen from the air to form ammonia. No hydrogen, no ammonia — it’s that simple. Conventional ammonia plants get hydrogen from methane, producing CO₂ in the process. Green ammonia uses renewable energy to produce hydrogen by splitting water via electrolysis.
Our recent research crunched the numbers on producing these new green commodities. We found making green iron in Australia with hydrogen and shipping it to Europe for steel production could be 21% cheaper than exporting raw iron ore and hydrogen separately. Plus, it could cut emissions by up to 95% compared to traditional methods.
There are huge economic opportunities for Australia too. Instead of shipping low-value raw materials, Australia could export ready-to-use green iron or green steel, reshaping global supply chains while cutting costs and carbon. That’s the kind of rethink hydrogen enables.
Industry hubs: a practical fix
Transporting hydrogen long distances is costly and inefficient. The fix? Industry hubs that produce hydrogen right where it’s needed — next to steel mills, ammonia plants, desalination plants, water treatment plants or even aluminium smelters. Putting producers and consumers together slashes transport costs and unlocks efficiencies.
We’ve built tools to pinpoint places with the greatest potential to produce these new green commodities.
The Hydrogen Economic Fairways Tool maps where renewable energy, infrastructure and industrial sites align for cost-effective hydrogen production.
The Green Steel Economic Fairways Mapper zooms in on prime locations for green steel, spotlighting places such as Eyre Peninsula in SA and the Pilbara in Western Australia, among others (see below). These locations have abundant wind and solar resources alongside an existing industrial base.
The Green Steel Economic Fairways Mapper compares the levelised cost of steel, including production and transport to the port. a) Regional changes across Australia b) Example of how to optimise the system to minimise the levelised cost of producing 1 million tonnes per annum c) Breakdown of costs d) Hourly system performance, in terms of energy flows. Green Steel Economic Fairways Mapper, Geoscience Australia
Challenges remain
Green hydrogen promises to revolutionise heavy industries, but significant hurdles stand in the way of widespread domestic adoption. The biggest challenge comes from the unpredictable nature of renewable energy, which makes it hard to maintain the steady hydrogen supply industries need.
The costs remain steep, too. Splitting water into hydrogen using renewable electricity isn’t cheap, particularly when you need backup storage systems to keep production going during cloudy or windless periods.
Getting hydrogen where it needs to go poses another major challenge. As hydrogen is both bulky to transport and highly flammable, it requires special handling and infrastructure, driving up costs, especially for facilities far from production sites.
Many companies also hesitate to invest in hydrogen-compatible equipment, as retrofitting existing plants or building new ones requires substantial upfront costs without guaranteed returns.
The $2.4 billion rescue package for the Whyalla Steelworks (ABC News)
Meanwhile tax credits for green aluminium and alumina should help another heavy industry to navigate the energy transition using clean hydrogen.
These measures aim to unlock tens of billions in private investment, boost regional economies, and position Australia as a leader in clean energy manufacturing. This isn’t just about one-off projects. It’s laying the groundwork for hubs that link renewable energy and hydrogen production to industrial demand.
There’s more in the pipeline. The Hydrogen Headstart program pumps funds into hydrogen innovation, and the Future Made in Australia initiative backs clean industry with billions more. Add in policies like carbon pricing or low-interest loans, and the economics tilt even further toward green steel and ammonia. Government buying power — in the form of procurement targets for low-carbon materials — could seal the deal by guaranteeing demand.
These policies aren’t just wishful thinking — they’re practical steps that are already working elsewhere. Sweden’s HYBRIT project, which paired green steel with government-backed demand, has already led to construction starting on new industrial-scale green steel facilities. At the same time, the European Union’s hydrogen strategy leans on carbon pricing and subsidies to guide industries and suppliers through the energy transition, while Japan offers incentives for the use of green steel in their automotive industry.
Australia has the renewable energy and the industrial base to take advantage of these opportunities. With the right leadership, we can turn hydrogen’s stumbles into a global triumph for heavy industry.
Changlong receives funding from the South Australian Department for Energy and Mining to conduct the SA Green Iron Study, and from Geoscience Australia under the Exploring for the Future program to develop the Hydrogen and Green Steel Economic Fairways tool. Changlong is affiliated with Melbourne Climate Futures, University of Melbourne, and is a visiting fellow at Engineering Science, Oxford University, UK.
Stuart Walsh receives funding from Geoscience Australia supporting the development of the Bluecap software suite, which highlights opportunities for new renewable energy and critical mineral projects in Australia. Stuart received funding from the South Australian Department for Energy and Mining to conduct the SA Green Iron Study and from Geoscience Australia under the Exploring for the Future program to develop the Hydrogen and Green Steel Economic Fairways tool.
Imagine you have just finished a workout. Your legs are like jelly, your lungs are burning and you just want to collapse on the couch.
But instead, you pick yourself up and go for a brisk walk.
While this might seem counterintuitive, doing some light activity after an intense workout – known as “active recovery” – has been suggested to reduce soreness and speed up recovery after exercise.
But does it work or is it just another fitness myth?
What is active recovery?
Active recovery simply describes doing some low-intensity physical activity after a strenuous bout of exercise.
This is commonly achieved through low-intensity cardio, such as walking or cycling, but can also consist of low-intensity stretching, or even bodyweight exercises such as squats and lunges.
The key thing is making sure the intensity is light or moderate, without moving into the “vigorous” range.
As a general rule, if you can maintain a conversation while you’re exercising, you are working at a light-to-moderate intensity.
Some people consider doing an easy training session on their “rest days” as a form of active recovery. However, this has not really been researched. So we will be focusing on the more traditional form of active recovery in this article, where it is performed straight after exercise.
What does active recovery do?
Active recovery helps speed up the removal of waste products, such as lactate and hydrogen, after exercise. These waste products are moved from the muscles into the blood, before being broken down and used for energy, or simply excreted.
This is thought to be one of the ways it promotes recovery.
In some instances active recovery has been shown to reduce muscle soreness in the days following exercise. This may lead to a faster return to peak performance in some physical capabilities such as jump height.
This means active recovery can be used regularly after exercise without the risk of affecting the benefits of the main exercise session.
There’s evidence to the contrary too
Not all research on active recovery is positive.
Several studies indicate it’s no better than simply lying on the couch when it comes to reducing muscle soreness and improving performance after exercise.
In fact, there’s more research suggesting active recovery doesn’t have an effect than research showing it does have an effect.
While there could be several reasons for this, two stand out.
First, the way in which active recovery is applied in the research varies as lot. It’s likely there is a sweet spot in terms of how long active recovery should last to maximise its benefits (more on this later).
Second, it’s likely the benefits of active recovery are trivial to small. As such, they won’t always be considered “significant” in the scientific literature, despite offering potentially meaningful benefits at an individual level. In sport science, studies often have small sample sizes, which can make it hard to see small effects.
But there doesn’t seem to be any research suggesting active recovery is less effective than doing nothing, so at worst it certainly won’t cause any harm.
When is active recovery useful?
Active recovery appears useful if you need to perform multiple bouts of exercise within a short time frame. For example, if you were in a tournament and had 10–20 minutes between games, then a quick active recovery would be better than doing nothing.
Active recovery might also be a useful strategy if you have to perform exercise again within 24 hours after intense activity.
For example, if you are someone who plays sport and you need to play games on back-to-back days, doing some low-intensity active recovery after each game might help reduce soreness and improve performance on subsequent days.
Similarly, if you are training for an event like a marathon and you have a training session the day after a particularly long or intense run, then active recovery might get you better prepared for your next training session.
Conversely, if you have just completed a low-to-moderate intensity bout of exercise, it’s unlikely active recovery will offer the same benefits. And if you will get more than 24 hours of rest between exercise sessions, active recovery is unlikely to do much because this will probably be long enough for your body to recover naturally anyway.
The good news is you don’t have to do a lot of active recovery to see a benefit.
A systematic review looking at the effectiveness of active recovery across 26 studies found 6–10 minutes of exercise was the sweet spot when it came to enhancing recovery.
Interestingly, the intensity of exercise didn’t seem to matter. If it was within this time frame, it had a positive effect.
So it makes sense to make your active recovery easy (because why would you make it hard if you don’t have to?) by keeping it in the light-to-moderate intensity range.
However, don’t expect active recovery to be a complete game changer. The research would suggest the benefits are likely to be small at best.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
You may have noticed that changes in weight are sometimes accompanied by changes in your period.
But what does one really have to do with the other?
Maintaining a healthy weight is key to regular menstruation. Here’s why – and when to talk to your doctor.
The role of hormones
The menstrual cycle – including when you bleed and ovulate – is regulated by a balance of hormones, particularly oestrogen.
The ovaries are connected to the brain through a hormonal signalling system. This acts as a kind of “chain of command” of hormones controlling the menstrual cycle.
The brain produces a key hormone, called the gonadotropin-releasing hormone, in the hypothalamus. It stimulates the release of other hormones which tell the ovaries to produce oestrogen and release a mature egg (ovulation).
But the release of the gonadotropin-releasing hormone depends on oestrogen levels and how much energy is available to the body. Both of these are closely related to body weight.
Oestrogen is primarily produced in the ovaries, but fat cells also produce oestrogen. This is why weight – and more specifically body fat – can affect menstruation.
Fat cells produce oestrogen, a hormone with a key role in the menstrual cycle. Halfpoint/Shutterstock
Can being underweight affect my period?
The body prioritises conserving energy. When reserves are low it stops anything non-essential, such as reproduction.
This can happen when you are underweight, or suddenly lose weight. It can also happen to people who undertake intense exercise or have inadequate nutrition.
The stress sends the hypothalamus into survival mode. As a result, the body lowers its production of the hormones important to ovulation, including oestrogen, and stops menstruation.
Being chronically underweight means not having enough energy available to support reproduction, which can lead to menstrual irregularities including amenorrhea (no periods at all).
This results in very low oestrogen levels and can cause potentially serious health risks, including infertility and bone loss.
Missing periods is not always a cause for concern. But a chronic lack of energy availability can be, if not addressed. The two are linked, meaning understanding your period and being aware of any prolonged changes is important.
How about being overweight?
Higher body fat can elevate oestrogen levels.
When you’re overweight your body stores extra energy in fat cells, which produce oestrogen and other hormones and can cause inflammation in the body. So, if you have a lot of fat cells, your body produces an excess of these hormones. This can affect normal functioning of the uterus lining (endometrium).
Excess oestrogen and inflammation can interfere in the feedback system to the brain and stop ovulation. As a result, you may have irregular or missed periods.
It can also lead to pain (dysmenorrhea) and heavier bleeding (menorrhagia).
Being overweight can sometimes worsen premenstrual syndrome as well. One study found for every 1 kg increase in height (m²) in body mass index (BMI), the risk of premenstrual syndrome went up by 3%. Women with a BMI over 27.5 kg/m² had a much higher risk than those with a BMI under 20 kg/m².
Sometimes weight changes are linked to hormonal balances that indicate an underlying condition.
For example, people with polycystic ovary syndrome may gain weight or find it hard to lose weight because they have a hormonal imbalance, including higher levels of testosterone.
The syndrome is also associated with irregular periods and heavy bleeding. So, if you notice these symptoms, it’s a good idea to talk to your doctor.
Similarly, weight changes and irregular periods in midlife might signal the start of perimenopause, the period before menopause (when your periods stop altogether).
Small changes in when your period comes or how long it lasts are usually harmless.
Similarly, slight fluctuations in weight won’t usually have a significant impact on your period – or the changes may be so subtle you don’t notice them.
But regular menstruation is an important marker of female health. Sometimes changes in flow, regularity or the pain you experience can indicate there’s something else going on.
If you notice changes and they don’t feel right to you, speak to a health care provider.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Anna M. Kotarba-Morley, Senior Lecturer in Museum and Curatorial Studies / Research Fellow, University of Adelaide
Archaeologists in Egypt have made an exciting discovery: the tomb of Pharaoh Thutmose II, a ruler who has long been overshadowed by his famous wife and half-sister, Queen Hatshepsut.
The remarkable find is located in the Western Valley (a burial ground for queens rather than kings), near the complex of Deir el-Bahari, which houses the funerary temple of Hatshepsut. Both of us worked together as archaeologists at this spectacular site some 15 years ago.
Thutmose II’s tomb has been labelled the first, and biggest, discovery of a royal tomb since Tutankhamun’s tomb was found just over 100 years ago.
Despite being totally empty, it’s a crucial element in further understanding a transformative period in ancient Egyptian history.
Hatshepsut’s forgotten brother and husband
Thutmose II (also called Akheperenre) reigned in the first half of the 15th century BCE. This made him the fourth ruler of the 18th Egyptian Dynasty, which marked the beginning of the New Kingdom period.
Thutmose II likely ruled for a little over ten years, although some scholars believe his reign may have lasted only three years.
He was the son of a great pharaoh Thutmose I and his lesser wife, Mutnofret. He married his half-sister Queen Hatshepsut according to the royal custom, to solidify the rule and bloodline. Together they had a daughter named Nefrure.
Thutmose II’s mummy was discovered in 1881 but his original tomb was unknown until now. Wikimedia
Upon his death, his wife Hatshepsut became the sixth pharaoh of the 18th Dynasty – and arguably one of the most famous and successful female rulers of all time.
Military activities
As the successor of Thutmose I, Thutmose II continued his father’s military policy in the southern regions of Egypt.
According to preserved inscriptions, he ordered the brutal suppression of a rebellion against Egyptian rule in the land of Kush (in present-day north Sudan). As a result, a significant number of prisoners were brought to Egypt – possibly as part of a campaign.
But Thutmose II’s military campaigns were minor in comparison to the grand conquests of his predecessors and successors. Most historians believe he was a weak ruler and that Hatshepsut had a major role in governing the country, even long before his death. However, others contest this.
Thutmose II’s short reign left modest traces of building activity in Karnak, one of the largest religious centres in ancient Egypt, located in present-day Luxor.
The structure, of which only fragments survive, features a unique decoration depicting Thutmose II, Hatshepsut as his royal wife before she became a ruler, and their daughter Nefrure. The origins of the monument are uncertain. It’s possible Thutmose II started it and Hatshepsut finished it.
The monument was reconstructed by French researchers and can now be admired at the Open Air Museum in Karnak.
Karnak is one of the most important religious centres in Ancient Egypt. Katarzyna Kapiec
Other monuments of Thutmose II were found in the southern regions of Egypt, such as in Elephantine, in the city of Aswan, and in northern Sudan (likely connected to his military campaigns).
The condemnation of Hatshepsut’s memory
Interestingly, the name of Thutmose II became strongly associated with many of Hatshepsut’s constructions due to the actions of Thutmose III.
Regarded as one of the greatest warriors, military commanders and military strategists of all time, Thutmose III was the nephew and stepson of Hatshepsut, and co-ruled with her as a regent.
At the end of Thutmose III’s reign, some 20 years after Hatshepsut’s death, he carried out a large-scale campaign to remove or alter Hatshepsut’s names and images. Scholars call this “damnatio memoriae”, or condemnation of the memory.
An example of Hatshepsut’s ‘damnatio memoriae’ at Deir el-Bahari. Hatshepsut’s cartouches (left) were defaced, while Thutmose III’s (right) remained untouched. Wikimedia
This was likely due to concerns about securing the throne for his successor, Amenhotep II, by linking him to his male ancestors.
In many cases, Hatshepsut’s name was replaced with that of Thutmose II, making him the principal celebrant in temples built by Hatshepsut, such as in Deir el-Bahari.
View at the temple of Hatshepsut at Deir el-Bahari at the dawn. Katarzyna Kapiec
What does Thutmose II’s empty tomb tell us?
The newly discovered tomb reveals fresh details about the status of Thutmose II and his role in the sociopolitical structure of 15th century BCE Egypt – a period of territorial expansion, wealth and political intrigue. It also sheds light on the perception of his rule at the time.
Thutmose II has been painted as an ineffectual ruler. And the latest findings don’t contradict this.
Unlike his father Thutmose I, who expanded Egypt’s reign through military strength, or his stepson Thutmose III, who became one of the most famous Egyptian warrior-kings, his modest tomb suggests his legacy may not have been as widely celebrated as others in his dynasty.
The tomb’s location is also intriguing, as it is near the tombs of royal wives, including the cliff tomb of Hatshepsut, which was prepared for her when she was still a royal wife.
Thutmose II’s mummy was discovered in the so-called Royal Cache in Deir el-Bahari in 1881, alongside other royal mummies. Many royal mummies were relocated here for protection from flooding and during the uncertain times of the 21st Dynasty (circa 1077–950 BCE), some 400–500 years after Thutmose II’s original burial.
However, experts suspect Thutmose II’s tomb might have been emptied even earlier due to flooding from a waterfall above it.
The two of us speculate another tomb may have been built for him, and is still awaiting discovery.
An 1881 photograph of some of the coffins and mummies found in DB320, taken before the mummies were unwrapped. Wikimedia
Ultimately, Thutmose II’s reign remains shrouded in mystery due to the lack of available records. The search for his tomb – from Western Valley, through the Valley of the Kings, all the way to Deir el-Bahari – spanned centuries.
Despite its poorly preserved state, and its scarcity compared with Tutankhamun’s splendorous tomb, this discovery will expand our understanding of the overlooked figure of Thutmose II, and the role he played in setting up the reign of Hatshepsut – arguably the most successful of the four female pharaohs.
In fact, paving the way for the ascent of Hatshepsut may have been his greatest contribution.
Anna M. Kotarba-Morley receives funding from Australian Research Council and previously received funding from National Centre of Science in Poland.
Katarzyna Kapiec receives funding from National Science Centre in Poland
A month in, and it is clear even to conservatives that US President Donald Trump is attempting to fundamentally reshape the role of the American president.
Trump and his supporters sees the natural authority of the American president in broad terms, similar to those of the Russian president, or a king. Trump, in fact, has already likened himself to a king.
This desire to “Russify” the presidency is not an accident: Trump and many of his supporters admire the king-like power that Vladimir Putin exercises as Russian president.
Russia’s system of government is what I call a “crown-presidential” system, which makes the president a kind of elected king.
Two powers are central to this role.
First, like a king, the Russian “crown-president” does not rely on an elected legislature to make policy. Instead, Putin exercises policy-making authority unilaterally via decree.
Putin has used decrees to wage wars, privatise the economy and even to amend the constitution to lay claim to the parts of Ukraine occupied by Russia since 2014.
He has also used these decrees in a performative way, for example, by declaring pay raises for all Russian state employees without any ability to enforce it.
Over the last month, Trump has made similar use of decrees (what the White House now terms “presidential actions”).
He has issued scores of presidential decrees to unilaterally reshape vast swathes of American policy – far more than past presidents. Trump sees these orders as a way of both exercising and demonstrating his vast presidential power.
Control over the bureaucracy
Second, like a king, Putin does not allow the Russian legislature to use the law to organise the executive branch and create agencies independent of presidential control. Instead, he has unquestioned dominance over both the organisation and staffing of the executive branch. This has given him vast power to dominate politics by controlling information gathering and legal prosecutions.
A similar push is underway in the United States. Trump has appointed key loyalists to head the Department of Justice and Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Moreover, he is seeking to restructure the executive branch by abolishing some agencies altogether and vastly reducing the size of the workforce in others.
Can the courts stop Trump?
Trump’s attempt to Russify the American presidency undermines the American constitutional order.
Courts are the natural “first responders” in this kind of crisis. And many courts have blocked some of Trump’s early decrees.
This legal response is important. But it is not enough on it own.
First, the US Supreme Court might be more willing to accept this expansion of presidential power than lower courts. In a ruling last year, for example, the court granted the president immunity from criminal prosecution, showing itself to be sympathetic to broad understandings of executive power.
Second, presidential decrees can be easily withdrawn and modified. This can allow Trump and his legal team to recalibrate as his decrees are challenged and find the best test cases to take to the Supreme Court.
Third, parts of the conservative right have long argued for a far more powerful president. For instance, the idea of a “unitary executive” has been discussed in conservative circles for years. This essentially claims that the president should be able to direct and control the entire executive branch, from the bureaucracy to prosecutors to the FBI.
These arguments are already being made to justify Trump’s actions. As Elon Musk has said, “you could not ask for a stronger mandate from the public” to reform the executive branch. These arguments will be made to courts to justify Trump’s expansion of power.
Fourth, even if the Supreme Court does block some decrees, it is possible the White House will simply ignore these actions. We had an early glimpse of this when Trump posted that “He who saves his Country does not violate any Law”.
Vice President JD Vance has also said judges “aren’t allowed” to block the president’s “legitimate power”.
The importance of political mobilisation and messaging
Trump’s aggressive use of presidential power is not just a constitutional crisis, it is a political one. For those seeking to resist, this is too important to just be left to the courts; it must also involve America’s key political institutions.
The most obvious place to start is in Congress. Lawmakers must act decisively to assert the legal power granted to them in the constitution to check the power of the presidency. This would include active Congressional use of its budgeting power, as well as its oversight powers on the presidency.
This could happen now if a few Republicans were to take a principled position on important constitutional issues, though nearly all have so far preferred to fall in line. Democrats could retake both branches of Congress in the midterm elections in 2026, though, and assert this power.
The states can and should also act to resist this expansion of presidential power. This action could take many forms, including refusing to deploy their traditional police powers to enforce decrees they view to be unconstitutional or unlawful.
In mobilising to defend the constitution, these institutions could appeal to the American people with more than the narrow legal argument that Trump’s acts are unconstitutional. They could also make the broader political argument that turning the American president into a Russian-style, elected king will foster a form of inefficient, unresponsive and corrupt politics.
Or, in the words of The New York Times columnist Ezra Klein, “it’s the corruption, stupid”.
Time is of the essence. Russia shows the more time a “crown-president” is able to operate, the more entrenched this system becomes. For those hoping to preserve American democracy, the time is now for not just legal, but political resistance.
William Partlett 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.
Thirty-four artworks created with artificial intelligence (AI) have gone up for sale at Christie’s in New York, in the famed auction house’s first collection dedicated to AI art.
Christie’s says the collection aims to explore “human agency in the age of AI within fine art”, prompting viewers to question the evolving role of the artist and of creativity.
Questions are not all the collection has prompted: there has also been a backlash. At the time of writing, more than 6,000 artists have signed an open letter calling on Christie’s to cancel the auction.
What’s in the collection?
Sougwen Chung’s Study 33 (2024) was created through a process that captured data from an EEG headset and a computer vision system tracking body movement and fed it to a painting robot called D.O.U.G._4. Sougwen Chung / Christie’s
The Augmented Intelligence collection, up for auction from February 20 to March 5, spans work from early AI art pioneers such as Harold Cohen through to contemporary innovators such as Refik Anadol, Vanessa Rosa and Sougwen Chung.
The showcased pieces vary widely in their use of AI. Some are physical objects, some are digital-only works – sold as non-fungible tokens or NFTs – and others are offered as both digital and physical components together.
Some have a performance aspect, such as Alexander Reben’s Untitled Robot Painting 2025 (to be titled by AI at the conclusion of the sale).
After generating an initial image tile, the work iteratively expands outwards, growing with each new bid in the auction. As the image evolves digitally, it is translated onto a physical canvas by an oil-painting robot. The price estimate for the work ranges from US$100 to US$1.7 million, and at the time of writing the bid sits at US$3,000.
Alexander Reben’s Untitled Robot Painting 2025 involves art generated by AI and painted by robot as bids come in. Alexander Reben / Christie’s
Claims of exploitation
The controversy surrounding this show is not surprising. Debates over the creation of AI art have simmered ever since the technology became widely available in 2022.
The open letter calling for the auction to be cancelled argues that many works in the exhibition use “AI models that are known to be trained on copyrighted work without a license”.
Embedding Study 1 & 2 (from the xhairymutantx series) (2024) by Holly Herndon and Matt Dryhurst explores the concept of ‘Holly Herndon’ in generative AI models. Holly Herndon and Matt Dryhurst / Christie’s
The letter says:
These models, and the companies behind them, exploit human artists, using their work without permission or payment to build commercial AI products that compete with them.
[Christie’s] support of these models, and the people who use them, rewards and further incentivizes AI companies’ mass theft of human artists’ work.
Copyright and cultural appropriation
Refik Anadol’s Machine Hallucinations – ISS Dreams (2021) is a video work used an AI model trained on publicly available images taken from the International Space Station. Refik Anadol / Christie’s
There are several attempts by artists to bring legal proceedings against AI companies underway. As yet, the key question remains unresolved: by training AI models on existing artworks, do AI models infringe artists’ copyright, or is this a case of fair use?
Artists who are critical of AI are rightly concerned about losing their incomes, or their skills becoming irrelevant or outdated. They are also concerned about losing their creative community – their place in the creative ecosystem.
Last year, Indigenous artists withdrew from a Brisbane art prize, highlighting concerns about AI and cultural appropriation.
At the same time, many AI artists don’t use copyrighted material. Refik Anadol, for instance, has stated that his work in the Christie’s collection was made using publicly available datasets from NASA.
How the ‘work’ of art is changing
The Christie’s event occurs during a major shift in what it means to be an artist, and to be creative. Some participants in the show even question whether the label of “artist” is even necessary or required to make meaningful imagery and artefacts.
Many non-artists may wonder – if AI is used, where is the real “work” of art? The answer is that many forms of work will look different in the age of AI, and creative endeavours are no exception.
Creativity gave humans an evolutionary edge. What happens if society censors or undermines certain forms of creativity?
Pindar Van Arman’s Emerging Faces (2017) was created via two AI agents: one attempted to generate images of faces, while the other stopped the process as soon as it recognised the image as a face. Pindar Van Arman / Christie’s
Clinging to traditional ideas about how things are done ignores the bigger picture. When used thoughtfully, technology can stretch our creative potential.
And AI cannot make art without human artists. Creating with new technologies requires context, direction, meaning, and an aesthetic sense.
In the case of the Christie’s auction, artists are doing much more than typing in prompts. They iterate with data, refine models, and actively shape the end result.
This evolving relationship between humans and machines reframes the creative process, with AI becoming more like a “conversational partner”.
What now?
Calling for the Christie’s auction to be cancelled may be shortsighted. It oversimplifies a complex issue and sidesteps deeper questions about how we should think about authorship, what authenticity means, and the evolving relationship between artists and the tools they use.
Whether we embrace or resist AI art, the Christie’s auction pushes us to rethink artistic labour and the creative process.
At the same time, Christie’s may need to take more care to produce collections that are sensitive to contemporary issues. Artists have real concerns about loss of work and income. A “move fast and break things” approach feels ill-suited to the thoughtfulness associated with artistic production.
Harold Cohen’s Untitled (i23-3758) (1987) was produced with the groundbreaking AARON image-generating AI system. Harold Cohen / Christie’s
Beyond protest, more education and collaboration is required overall. Artists who do not adapt to new technologies and ways of creating may be left behind.
Equally important is ensuring AI does not diminish human agency or exploit creatives. Discussions around achieving sustainable and inclusive AI could follow other sectors focusing on equally sharing benefits and having rigorous ethical standards.
Examples might come from the open source community (and organisations such as the Open Source Initiative), where licensing and frameworks allow contributors to benefit from collective development. And in the tech realm, some software companies (such as IBM) do stand out for their rigorous approach to ethics.
Rather than cancelling the Christie’s auction, perhaps this is a moment for us to reimagine how we do creativity and adapt with AI.
But are artists – and audiences – prepared for a future where the nature of being an artist, and creativity itself, is radically different?
Jessica Herrington 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 French Minister for Overseas Manuel Valls lands in New Caledonia tomorrow to pursue talks on its political future, the situation on the ground has again gained tension over the past few days.
The local political spectrum is deeply divided between the two main opposing camps, the pro-independence and those wanting New Caledonia to remain part of France.
The rift has already culminated in May 2024 with rioting resulting in 14 deaths, several hundreds injured, thousands of job losses due to the destruction, burning and looting of businesses, and a material cost of over 2 billion euros (NZ$3.7 billion).
Valls hosted talks in Paris with every party represented in New Caledonia’s Congress on February 4-9.
Those talks, held in “bilateral” mode, led to his decision to travel to Nouméa and attempt to bring everyone to the same negotiating table.
It is all about finding an agreement that would allow an exit from the Nouméa Accord and to draw a fresh roadmap for New Caledonia’s political future.
However, in the face of radically different and opposing views, the challenge is huge.
The two main blocs, even though they acknowledged the Paris talks may have been helpful, still hold very clear-cut and antagonistic positions.
Each camp seems to have their own interpretation of the 1998 Nouméa Accord, which has until now defined a roadmap for further autonomy and a gradual transfer of powers.
The main bloc within the pro-independence side, Union Calédonienne (UC), which since last year de facto controls the wider FLNKS (Kanak Socialist National Liberation Front), has been repeatedly placing as its target a new “Kanaky Agreement” to be signed by 24 September 2025 and, from that date, a five-year “transition period” to attain full independence from France.
Within the pro-independence camp, more moderate parties, such as PALIKA (Kanak Liberation Party) and UPM (Progressist Union in Melanesia), have distanced themselves from a UC-dominated FLNKS, and are favourable to some kind of “independence in association with France”.
On the pro-France side, the two main components, the Les Loyalistes and the Rassemblement-LR, have shown a united front. One of their main arguments is based on the fact that in 2018, 2020 and 2021, three successive referenda on self-determination have resulted in three votes, each of those producing a majority rejecting independence.
However, the third and latest poll in December 2021 was boycotted by most of the pro-independence voters.
The pro-independence parties have since challenged the 2021 poll result, even though it has been ruled by the courts as valid.
Pro-France parties are also advocating for a change in the political system to give each of New Caledonia’s three provinces more powers, a move they described as an “internal federalism” but that critics have decried, saying this amounted to a kind of apartheid.
Talks required since 2022 The bipartisan talks became necessary after the three referendums were held.
The Nouméa Accord stipulated that in the event that three consecutive referendums rejected independence, then all political stakeholders should “meet and examine the situation”.
There have been earlier attempts to bring about those talks, but some components of the pro-independence movement, notably the UC, have consistently declined.
Under a previous government, French Minister for Home Affairs and Overseas territories Gérald Darmanin, after half a dozen inconclusive trips to New Caledonia, tried to push some of the most urgent parts of the political agreement through a constitutional reform process, especially on a change to New Caledonia’s list of eligible registered voters at local elections.
This was supposed to allow citizens who have resided in New Caledonia for at least ten uninterrupted years to finally cast their votes. Until now, the electoral roll has been “frozen” since 2009 — only those residing before 1998 had the right to vote.
Pro-independence parties protested, saying this was a way of “diluting” the indigenous Kanak votes.
The protest — in the name of “Kanak existential identity” — gained momentum and on 13 May 2024 erupted into riots.
Now the sensitive electoral roll issue is back on the agenda, only it will no longer be tackled separately, but will be part of a wider and comprehensive scope of talks regarding New Caledonia’s political future.
Heavy schedule for Valls On Thursday, Valls unveiled his programme for what is scheduled to be a six-day stay in New Caledonia from 22-26 February 2025.
During this time, he will spend a significant amount of time in the capital Nouméa, holding talks with political parties, economic stakeholders and representatives of the civil society and law and order agencies.
He will also travel to rural parts of New Caledonia.
In the capital, two solid days have been earmarked for “negotiations” at the Congress, with the aim of finding the best way to achieve a political agreement, if all parties agree to meet and talk.
On Tuesday, February 25, Valls also intends to pay homage and lay wreaths on independence leader Jean-Marie Tjibaou and anti-independence leader Jacques Lafleur’s graves.
They were the leaders of FLNKS and (pro-France) RPCR, who eventually signed the Matignon Accords in 1998 and shook hands after half a decade of quasi civil war, during the previous civil unrest in the second half of the 1980s.
Valls was then a young member of French Prime Minister Michel Rocard (Socialist) who enabled the Matignon agreement.
On several occasions, over the past few days, Valls has stressed the grave situation New Caledonia has been facing since the riots, the “devastated” economy and the need to restore a bipartisan dialogue.
He told public broadcaster NC La Première that since the unrest started had France had provided financial support to sustain New Caledonia’s economy.
‘Fractures and deep wounds within New Caledonia’s society’ “But blood has been shed . . . there have been deaths, injuries, there are fractures and deep wounds within New Caledonia’s society,” Valls said.
“And to get out of this, dialogue is needed, to find a compromise . . . to prevent violence from coming back. I still believe those (opposing) positions are reconcilable, even though they’re quite far apart,” he said.
“I’m very much aware of the difficulties . . . but we have to find an agreement, a compromise.”
One clear indication that during his visit to New Caledonia the French minister will be walking on shaky ground came a few days ago.
When, speaking to French national daily Le Monde, he recalled the Nouméa Accord included a wide range of possible perspectives from “a shared sovereignty” to a “full sovereignty”, there was an immediate outcry from the pro-French parties, who steadfastly brandished the three recent referendums opposing independence and urging the minister to respect those “democratic” results.
“Respecting the Nouméa Accord means respecting the choice of New Caledonians”, said Les Loyalistes-Le Rassemblement-LR in a media release.
“Shared sovereignty is the current situation. It’s all in the Nouméa Accord, which itself is enshrined in the French Constitution”, Valls replied.
Over the past six months, several notions have emerged in terms of a political future for New Caledonia.
It all comes down to wording: from independence-association (Cook Islands style), to outright “independence” or “shared sovereignty” (as suggested by French Senate President Gérard Larcher during his visit in October 2024).
A former justice minister under Socialist President François Hollande, Jean-Jacques Urvoas, well-versed in New Caledonian affairs, suggested an innovative wording which, he believed, could bring about some form of consensus — the term “associated state”, could be slightly modified into “associated country” (“country” being one of the ways to describe New Caledonia, also described as a sui generis entity under French Law).
Urvoas said this would make the notion more palatable.
Pro-France meetings indoors On Wednesday evening, in an indoor multi-purpose hall in Nouméa, an estimated 2000 sympathisers of pro-France Rassemblement and Loyalists gathered to hear and support their leaders who had come to explain what was discussed in Paris and reiterate the pro-France bloc’s position.
“We told [Valls] the ‘bilaterals’ are over. Now we want plenary discussions or nothing,” pro-France Virginie Ruffenach told the crowd.
“We will tell him: Manuel, your full sovereignty is No Pasaran! (in Spanish ‘Will not pass’, a reference to Valls’s Spanish heritage),” said Nicolas Metzdorf, who is also one of the two New Caledonian MPs in the French National Assembly, speaking to supporters brandishing blue, white and red French flags.
Metzdorf said he hoped that supporters would show up during the minister’s visit with the same flags “to remind him of three “no” votes in the three referenda.
A ban on all open-air public meetings is still in force in Nouméa and its greater area.
The two-flag driving licence declared illegal. Image: New Caledonia govt
Double flags banned on driving licences Adding to the current tensions, an announcement also came earlier this week regarding a court ruling on another highly sensitive issue — the flag.
The ruling came in an appeal case from the Paris Administrative Court.
It overturned a ruling made in 2023 by the former New Caledonian (pro-independence) territorial government to add the Kanak flag to the local driving licence, next to the French flag.
In its February 14 ruling, the Appeal Court stated that the Kanak flag could not be used on such official documents because “it is not the official flag” of New Caledonia.
The court once again referred to the Nouméa Accord, which said the Kanak flag, even though it was often used alongside the French flag, had not been formally endorsed as New Caledonia’s “identity symbol”.
The tribunal also urged the new government to make the necessary changes and to re-circulate the former one-flag version “without delay”.
Meanwhile, the government is bearing the cost of a fine of 100, 000 French Pacific francs (about US$875) a day, which currently totals over US$43,000 since January 1.
The “identity symbols”, as defined by the Nouméa Accord, also include a motto (the wording ‘Terre de Parole, Terre de Partage’ — Land of Words, Land of Sharing’ was chosen) and even a national anthem.
But despite several attempts since 1998, no agreement has yet been reached on a common flag.
This week, hours after the court ruling, an image is being circulated on social media declaring: “If this flags disturbs you, I’ll help you pack your suitcase” (“Si ce drapeau te dérange, je t’aide à faire tes valises”).
This article is republished under a community partnership agreement with RNZ.
Fijian Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka’s announcement this week that the island nation will open a diplomatic mission in Jerusalem has been labelled “an act of aggression” by Palestine.
On Tuesday, the Fiji government revealed that Cabinet had decided to locate its consulate in Jerusalem, which remains at the centre of the Palestine-Israel decades-long conflict.
According to an overwhelming United Nations General Assembly Resolution ES‑10/19 on 21 December 2017 (128-9), Israel’s claim to Jerusalem as capital of Israel is “null and void”.
Previous UN Security Council resolutions demarcated Jerusalem as the capital of the future state of Palestine.
The Fijian government said in a statement: “Necessary risk assessments will be undertaken by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry of Defence, in consultation with relevant agencies, prior to and during the establishment process.”
Fiji and Israel established diplomatic relations in 1970 and have partnerships in security and peacekeeping, agriculture, and climate change.
In a Facebook post on Wednesday, Rabuka said he “received a phone call from my friend Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, expressing his gratitude for Fiji’s decision to open a diplomatic mission in Jerusalem.”
“Even though very brief, we reaffirmed our commitment to strengthening Fiji-Israel ties,” he said.
I commend the Republic of Fiji’s government for its historic decision to open an embassy in Jerusalem, the eternal capital of the Jewish people. Thank you, Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka @slrabuka, friend of Israel. Thank you Fiji! 🇮🇱🇫🇯 pic.twitter.com/IxCkjPnhQ6
‘Violating international law’ “With this decision, Fiji becomes the seventh country to violate international law and UN resolutions regarding the city’s legal and political status and the rights of the Palestinian people,” it said in a statement.
The seven countries include Papua New Guinea.
The Palestinian Ministry of Foreign Affairs strongly condemns the decision of PM @slrabuka to relocate Fiji’s embassy to occupied #Jerusalem.
This move blatantly violates international law and UN resolutions, and places #Fiji on the wrong side of history. https://t.co/5x1bCECNXO
— Palestine Australia, Aotearoa NZ and Pacific (@PalestineAusNZ) February 19, 2025
“This decision is an act of aggression against the Palestinian people and their rights.
“It places Fiji on the wrong side of history, harms the chances of achieving peace based on the two-state solution, and represents unacceptable support for the occupation and its crimes.”
The statement added that Fiji’s move “blatantly defies UN resolutions at a time when the occupying power is escalating its attacks against Palestinians across all of the Palestinian Territory, attempting to displace them from their homeland.”
The ministry said that it would continue to take political, diplomatic, and legal action against countries that opened or moved their embassies to Jerusalem.
“It will work to hold them accountable for their unjustified actions against the Palestinian people and their rights.”
In September 2024, Fiji was one of seven Pacific Island nations that voted against a United Nations resolution to end Israel’s occupation of Palestine.
This article is republished under a community partnership agreement with RNZ.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – Co-Authored by Graeme Austin, Chair of Private Law, Te Herenga Waka — Victoria University of Wellington, and Jane C Ginsburg, Morton L Janklow Professor of Literary and Artistic Property Law, Columbia University.
Not that long ago, the term “deepfake” wasn’t in most people’s vocabularies. Now, it is not only commonplace, but is also the focus of intense legal scrutiny around the world.
Known in legal documents as “digital replicas”, deepfakes are created by artificial intelligence (AI) to simulate the visual and vocal appearance of real people, living or dead.
Unregulated, they can do a lot of damage, including financial fraud (already a problem in New Zealand), political disinformation, fake news, and the creation and dissemination of AI-generated pornography and child sexual abuse material.
For professional performers and entertainers, the proliferation and increasing sophistication of deepfake technology could demolish their ability to control and derive income from their images and voices.
And deepfakes might soon take away jobs: why employ a professional actor when a digital replica will do?
One possible solution to this involves giving individuals the ability to enforce intellectual property (IP) rights to their own image and voice. The United States is currently debating such a move, and New Zealand lawmakers should be watching closely.
Owning your own likeness
Remedies already being discussed in New Zealand include extending prohibitions in the Harmful Digital Communications Act to cover digital replicas that do not depict a victim’s actual body.
Using (or amending) the Crimes Act, the Fair Trading Act and the Electoral Act would also be helpful.
At the same time, there will be political pressure to ensure regulation does not stymie investment in AI technologies – a concern raised in a 2024 cabinet paper.
Legislation introduced to the US Congress last year – the Nurture Originals, Foster Art, and Keep Entertainment Safe Bill – proposes a new federal intellectual property right that individual victims can use against creators and disseminators of deepfakes.
Known informally as the “No Fakes Bill”, the legislation has bipartisan and industry support, including from leading entertainment worker unions. The US Copyright Office examined the current state of US law and concluded that enforceable rights were “urgently needed”.
From the New Zealand perspective, the No Fakes Bill contains both helpful ideas and possible pitfalls. As we discuss in a forthcoming paper, its innovations include expanding IP protections to “everyday” individuals – not just celebrities.
All individuals would have the right to seek damages and injunctions against unlicensed digital replicas, whether they’re in video games, pornographic videos, TikTok posts or remakes of movies and television shows.
But these protections may prove illusory because the threshold for protection is so high. The digital replica must be “readily identifiable as the voice or visual likeness of an individual”, but it’s not clear how identifiable the individual victim of a deepfake needs to be.
Well known New Zealand actors such as Anna Paquin and Cliff Curtis would certainly qualify. But would a New Zealand version of the bill protect an everyday person, “readily identifiable” only to family, friends and workmates?
Can you license a digital replica?
Under the US bill, the new IP rights can be licensed. The bill does not ban deepfakes altogether, but gives individuals more control over the use of their likenesses. An actor could, for example, license an advertising company to make a digital replica to appear in a television commercial.
Licences must be in writing and signed, and the permitted uses must be specified. For living individuals, this can last only ten years.
So far, so good. But New Zealand policy analysts should look carefully at the scope of any licensing provisions. The proposed IP right is “licensable in whole or in part”. Depending on courts’ interpretation of “in whole”, individuals could unknowingly sign away all uses of their images and voice.
The No Fakes Bill is also silent on the reputational interests of individuals who license others to use their digital replicas.
Suppose a performing artist licensed their digital replica for use in AI-generated musical performances. They should not, for example, have to put up with being depicted singing a white supremacist anthem, or other unsanctioned uses that would impugn their dignity and standing.
Protectng parody and satire
On the other side of the ledger, the No Fakes Bill contains freedom of expression safeguards for good faith commentary, criticism, scholarship, satire and parody.
The bill also protects internet service providers (ISPs) from liability if they quickly remove “all instances” of infringing material once notified about it.
This is useful language that might be adopted in any New Zealand legislation. Also, the parody and satire defence would be an advance on New Zealand’s copyright law, which currently contains no equivalent exception.
But the US bill contains no measures empowering victims to require ISPs to block local subscribers’ access to online locations that peddle in deepfakes. Known as “site-blocking orders”, these injunctions are available in at least 50 countries, including Australia. But New Zealand and the US remain holdouts.
For individual victims of deepfakes circulating on foreign websites that are accessible in New Zealand, site-blocking orders could offer the only practical relief.
The No Fakes Bill is by no means a perfect or comprehensive solution to the deepfakes problem. Many different weapons will be needed in the legal and policy armoury – including obligations to disclose when digital replicas are used.
Even so, creating an IP right could be a useful addition to a suite of measures aimed at reducing the economic, reputational and emotional harms deepfakes can inflict.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
As we head towards a federal election, the Labor government recently announced a funding package worth A$573 million for women’s health.
The funding includes $100 million to support two national trials for pharmacies to provide the oral contraceptive pill and treatments for uncomplicated urinary tract infections over the counter.
The question of whether or not pharmacists should be able to provide the oral contraceptive pill without a prescription from a GP has long been a topic of debate.
We asked five experts for their thoughts. Should pharmacists be able to provide the pill over the counter without a script?
Four out of five said yes. Here are their detailed responses.
In the 2022 federal election, two demographics were key to the final outcome: women and young people.
With another election fast approaching, will they swing the result again?
To answer this question, I turned to the Australian Election Study (AES) data spanning the period from 1987 to 2022, to investigate how different demographics have voted over time.
I found that, generally, Australian women and young people tend to favour left-of-centre parties.
However, specific election issues can have a substantial impact, making the political context of each election crucial. So what can we expect this time around?
Young women are increasingly progressive. Young men – particularly Gen Z (born after 1994) – are leaning more conservative in many countries, including the United States, China, South Korea and Germany.
My analysis of the Australian data mirrors global trends, but with a twist.
Young Australian women are moving sharply to the left. But unlike in many other countries, young Australian men are also shifting left, just at a slower pace.
Australia’s leftward move across generations is reflected in both self-placement on a left-right ideological scale, and in the vote in federal elections.
In the 2022 Australian election, the Coalition received its lowest-ever share of the women’s vote at just 32%.
Only 24.3% of Millennials (21.9% of men and 25.7% of women) voted for the Coalition in 2022.
These are the lowest levels of support for either major party among younger people in the history of the survey.
Among Gen Z, a slightly higher proportion of 24.6% voted for the Coalition (34.0% of men and 19.8% of women).
What’s driving this?
In theory, women’s leftward shift is driven by several factors. These include higher education levels, greater participation in professional work, and exposure to feminist values. Despite Australia’s post-industrial, egalitarian image, persistent gendered inequalities and discrimination also play a role.
Meanwhile, young men’s move to the left can be attributed to progressive and egalitarian socialisation. Plus, unlike in other countries, Australia lacks Donald Trump-like figures who could mobilise anti-feminist or hardline conservative sentiments. This limits the expression of such views at an aggregate level.
This leftward shift is, in part, a generational effect – or at least a reflection of the times.
The generational angle is crucial, as the 2025 federal election will be the first in which Millennials and Gen Z together will outnumber Baby Boomers as the dominant voting bloc in Australia.
This shift should shape how political parties campaign, whom they target, and which issues take centre stage.
Policies are voter priorities
My analysis highlights another important angle. Over the study period, voting decisions have increasingly been driven by policy issues, with 48% of Australians citing them as the primary factor. This is followed by party affiliation (29%), party leaders (14%) and local candidates (9%).
In 2022, 54% of voters reported policy issues as the main factor influencing their choice.
Across election years, I identified the most prominent and recurrent election issues that voters identified as influential. I added these issues to my model to see how people who care about these issues lean (left-right) and whether men and women differ in their political leanings (progressive-conservative). I also considered other factors known to impact voting, including:
sociodemographic factors (education, marital status, social class, home ownership and rural/urban residency)
familial socialisation (what their parents’ political preferences were)
social network factors (whether they’re religious or a member of a union)
electoral context (what each respondent said were the most important voting issues)
Overall, women tend to be slightly more left-leaning on policy issues than men, and while this difference is statistically significant, it is small and the general trend holds across both sexes.
Compared with Boomers, each successive generation is more likely to vote for a left party. Gen Z is the most left-leaning (though their smaller sample size warrants some caution in interpretation).
So who votes for whom?
Unsurprisingly, people vote according to who they think will best address the policy areas they care about most.
Those prioritising interest rates, taxation or economic management favour right-wing parties. Voters most concerned with health, Medicare and climate change are more likely to vote for the left.
Education, class and social networks matter, too. Highly educated, working-class, non-religious and union-affiliated voters tend to support left parties. So, too, do those raised in left-leaning households.
While the size of these effects varies slightly between men and women, the overall direction remains the same.
How might this play out in 2025?
The thing about election issues is that they are highly time-sensitive. Take the GST: it was one of the defining issues of the 1998 election, yet was largely irrelevant after 2004.
In recent years, left-leaning issues — the environment, health and Medicare — were more likely to be front-of-mind when Australians all of ages headed to the polls. This gives Labor and the Greens an issue-owner advantage.
Cost of living (spanning day-to-day expenses, interest rates and housing affordability) has now become the defining issue of this election cycle. At first thought, among the two major parties, the Coalition is traditionally seen as a better economic manager.
However, my analysis from 2022 election data shows that, compared with the 2019 election, fewer people considered the Coalition the best manager of the economy among those who considered it the most important election issue.
Further, for the first time in the past five elections, a majority of the voters perceived Labor as more aligned with their own views on immigration, refugees and asylum seekers. These issues, historically seen as Coalition strongholds, are also likely to be key this time around.
For the Coalition, this is bad news. But for Labor, the challenge is twofold: retaining younger, progressive voters while addressing broader economic anxieties.
With growing voter volatility and a diminished sense of party loyalty, neither major party can rely on a stable base.
Australians are increasingly willing to shift allegiances, including to the increasing supply of independent alternatives. Both Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and Opposition Leader Peter Dutton will have to convince voters they have the best solutions for the key issues.
Intifar Chowdhury 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.
In the past 12 months, more than 1,300 people have died on Australia’s roads. In January alone, there were 114 road deaths in Australia – roughly 20% more than the average for that month over the previous five years.
Our new study projects these tragedies are set to continue over the next 25 years, despite a commitment by Australian governments to achieving zero deaths on the nation’s roads by 2050.
Published in the journal Injury, our study uses a modelling tool to forecast the number of road fatalities in 2030, 2040 and 2050. Importantly, it also identifies the people and regions at higher risks, which provides an opportunity for taking a more nuanced and targeted approach to road safety.
Clear trends
Improved vehicle safety technology, stricter traffic laws and public awareness campaigns have led to a significant drop in the number of road deaths over the past several decades in Australia. But tragically, the number of people dying on Australia’s roads is still high.
The data reveal some clear trends. For example, weekdays see fewer fatalities, likely due to routine commuting and lower-risk behaviours. On the other hand, weekends, particularly Saturdays, experience spikes linked to alcohol consumption and more social travel.
December emerges as the deadliest month. This is likely driven by holiday travel surges, with secondary peaks in March and October tied to school holidays and seasonal weather changes that affect road conditions.
Geographic disparities further complicate the picture. Urban centres in New South Wales and Victoria such as Sydney and Melbourne account for 35% to 40% of fatalities, in part because of dense traffic volumes, complex intersections and pedestrian-heavy zones.
In contrast, rural and remote areas, though less congested, have more severe road accidents because of inadequate road infrastructure and higher speed limits. For example, the Northern Territory, with vast stretches of high-speed highways, records the highest fatality rate, while the Australian Capital Territory, with its urban planning emphasis on safety, reports the lowest.
Speed zones of 51–80 km/h are particularly lethal for vulnerable road users such as pedestrians, cyclists and motorcyclists. This underscores the crucial role of speed management in urban and rural areas alike.
Demographic risks also remain entrenched. For example, men constitute more than 70% of fatalities – in part because they are more likely to engage in risky behaviour such as speeding and drunk driving. Young drivers (17–25 years) and middle-aged adults (40–64 years) are also over-represented due to a combination of inexperience, overconfidence and high mileage.
In good news, child fatalities (0–16 years) have sharply declined. This reflects the success of targeted measures like child seat laws and school zone safety campaigns.
To forecast these trends over the next 25 years, our new study used a modelling tool called Prophet developed by tech company Meta.
We fed 35 years of road data – from 1989 to 2024 – into the model. This data came from Australia’s Bureau of Infrastructure, Transport and Regional Economics. It incorporated variables such as road user type, age, gender, speed limits and geographic location.
To refine predictions, we also incorporated public holidays such as Christmas and Easter.
Prophet outperformed other models we tested, including SARIMA and ETS. It did a better job at modelling past changes in road safety. And it especially excelled at handling non-linear trends, multiple seasonal patterns (daily, weekly, yearly) and the effects of holiday periods.
An unmet target
The findings of the study are cause for some cautious optimism.
Overall, by 2050 fatalities are expected to decline. But Australia’s ambitious zero fatality target by the middle of the century will remain unmet.
The modelling indicates annual male fatalities will drop from 855 in 2030 to 798 in 2050, while female fatalities will plummet from 229 to 92.
There will also be a drop in the number of child fatalities – from 37 in 2030 to just two in 2050. But the model shows a troubling rise of the number of older drivers (over 65) dying on Australia’s roads – from 273 in 2030 to 301 in 2050. This reflects Australia’s ageing population, with more people expected to have both reduced mobility and reduced reflexes.
Motorcyclist fatalities buck the overall trend, rising from 229 in 2030 to 253 in 2050. This signals urgent needs for dedicated lanes and better rider education.
Regionally, Queensland and the Northern Territory lag due to rural road risks. Urban areas with speed limits lower than 80 km/h show steadier declines.
Motorcyclist fatalities are expected to rise from 229 in 2030 to 253 in 2050. FotoDax/Shutterstock
A shared priority
Based on these findings, our study provides several recommendations to mitigate the risk of death on Australia’s roads.
Speed management: enforce dynamic speed limits in high-risk zones such as school areas and holiday corridors, and expand 80 km/h zones on rural highways.
Targeted campaigns: launch gender-specific safety initiatives for men (for example, anti-speeding programs) and age-focused interventions, such as mandatory refresher courses for drivers over 65.
Infrastructure upgrades: invest in rural road safety such as median barriers and better signage, as well as dedicated cyclist pathways.
Technology integration: accelerate the adoption of autonomous vehicles to reduce crashes caused by human error and risky behaviours, and pilot artificial intelligence-driven traffic systems for real-time hazard detection.
Expand public transport: subsidise off-peak travel and rural transit networks to reduce how much people – particularly high-risk groups – depend on car travel.
Better enforcement: strengthen weekend and nighttime policing of roads and deploy more mobile speed cameras during peak holiday periods.
By following these recommendations, Australia can move closer to its vision of safer roads. Our findings underscore that sustained progress demands not only rigorous policy, but also community engagement.
Ali Soltani has received funding from the Flinders Foundation, the National Road Safety Action Grant (NRSAGP), and the Lifetime Support Authority Grant in 2024. He is also a FIAS (French Institute of Advanced Studies) Fellow, Le Studium, under the Marie Curie Actions of the European Commission (2024–25). Additionally, he has affiliations with the Planning Institute of Australia, SA Branch, and has received multiple research and travel grants.
As we head towards a federal election, the Labor government recently announced a funding package worth A$573 million for women’s health.
The funding includes $100 million to support two national trials for pharmacies to provide the oral contraceptive pill and treatments for uncomplicated urinary tract infections over the counter.
The question of whether or not pharmacists should be able to provide the oral contraceptive pill without a prescription from a GP has long been a topic of debate.
We asked five experts for their thoughts. Should pharmacists be able to provide the pill over the counter without a script?
Four out of five said yes. Here are their detailed responses.
In 1987, UK researchers lamented how schools were organised “around the assumption that the nuclear family is the norm”. Families who did not fit this model were “either ignored (tactfully) or categorised as abnormal”.
Several generations have passed through schools since then. And as we know, it remains very common for parents to be separated or divorced. In Australia, about 28% of children under 14 have parents who are separated.
But in our new research, interviewees report surprisingly little has changed in schools’ interactions with separated parents in the past 40 years.
They say schools still treat the nuclear family as the default and assume students have a mum and dad who are together.
Schools are preoccupied with the ‘primary parent’
We interviewed 11 separated parents about their experiences with their children’s schools. These parents were a subgroup from our previous study, which found more than half of separated parents surveyed had negative experiences with their children’s teachers, principals and school administrators.
Our interviewees repeatedly talked about how school information systems (regardless of whether they were for private or public schools) required families to identify a “primary parent”.
This was the parent who the school contacted if the child was unwell or to discuss a school-related issue. This parent also received all school-related communications: newsletters, excursion notes, medical updates, report cards and invoices for school fees.
There seemed to be no way for school systems to accommodate diverse families for whom identifying a “primary parent” was more complicated.
A number of separated parents said they needed to “combat” the school to receive the same updates and information as the nominated primary parent. One father’s contact details had to be entered into the system’s allergy advice section to flag he should be contacted if his child became unwell.
Another father told us his child’s school insisted the primary parent “needs to be the mother”, even though he had majority care.
Separated parents in our study said they needed to ‘combat’ their child’s school to get important information. Peopleimages.com/Shutterstock
The type, amount and timing of information non-primary parents received primarily depended on their relationship with their ex-partner. For amicably separated parents, the situation was difficult but workable. As Amanda told us:
[One of the biggest challenges] is trying to work out ‘Did you get this email?’, ‘Did you get that one?’, ‘What’s happened with this note?’, and then kind of working out amongst ourselves how to best manage that if only one of us is receiving information.
But parents in high-conflict situations sometimes found themselves shut out by the other parent or the school itself.
Even though there were no court orders in place, Michael reported his children’s mother excluded him from school communications and withheld information, which made it impossible for him to be actively involved in his children’s schooling.
When I contacted the school and said, you know, that I either wasn’t receiving any information or that all the notices suddenly weren’t coming to me, they said, ‘Oh, we’re not going to get involved’. And so, I was left completely out of it.
The ‘primary parent’ is contacted if a child is sick at school or if there is a school-related issue that needs to be discussed with the child’s family. Chai Te/Shutterstock
Situations can be manipulated
Parents also reported the primary parent can manipulate school interactions. In high-conflict relationships, school information can be used to elevate one parent into a position of power.
Again, Michael explained how his children’s mother kept from him important information about school fees and homework. His ex-partner’s legal team then used his non-payment of fees and lack of signatures in a homework book to demonstrate Michael’s purported lack of engagement in his child’s schooling and to imply his negligence as a parent.
This is an extreme example. However, Michael’s situation speaks to the complex politics of parent–school engagement.
While some parents found teachers open and receptive to involving both parents, others reported some teachers “take sides” and can be unresponsive to parent requests for basic school-related information.
What about step-parents?
Some parents in our study had become step-parents after re-partnering. These parents explained they were heavily involved in the day-to-day lives of their step-children but the school did not recognise them as parental figures.
Step-parents didn’t have access to parent–teacher interviews and school reports, or even basic information about school activities. While acknowledging the primacy of the biological parent, step-parents wondered why the school could not include all parent figures in a child’s education.
As Michelle explained:
I guess it takes a while to be fully recognised as a parent or carer […] It’s just that it would have been nice if there was a little bit more of a conscious effort from the school.
The nuclear family is still seen as ‘normal’
While working with separated parents is not a new phenomenon for schools, it seems to be an area in which schools have made little progress.
Our research demonstrates schools need more effective policies and procedures so all parents can be included and involved. Schools also need improved support and education for staff in how to manage high-conflict co-parenting relationships.
Finally, school systems, including data infrastructures and software, must be able to accommodate and properly acknowledge diverse families.
As the 1987 study noted:
Until each school defines its philosophy of the family in a realistic way, teachers, parents, and pupils have no option other than to collude in maintaining the fiction that the nuclear family is normal.
Names have been changed.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Australian subscribers to the print edition of The New Yorker will know the feeling: it arrives once a week, or sometimes, as buses do, in pairs.
You may briefly regret the environmental impact of all that paper, but once it’s unwrapped it’s a source of anticipation. You check out the cover, read Shouts and Murmurs, and flip through the cartoons.
You might even tackle the book reviews or dive into an article. But most of all, you inhale the history of a century of brilliantly edited and stainlessly written essays.
The New Yorker will publish four issues to mark its centenary, including this one featuring the magazine’s mascot, Eustace Tilley. The New Yorker
100 years, thousands of issues, countless stories
The New Yorker has evolved alongside a century of monumental change. From the roaring 20s to the age unfolding, it has been a steadfast investigator of history, covering wars, political upheavals, cultural shifts and social revolutions.
It has also fostered the growth of renowned editors such as William Shawn, Robert Gottlieb and Tina Brown, all of whom helped shape it into an institution.
Antiguan-American novelist Jamaica Kincaid has written dozens of New Yorker articles over the decades. Wikimedia
When The New Yorker was founded in 1925 by Harold Ross, it was a lighthearted, satirical magazine designed for the city’s social elite. Early issues leaned into what articles editor Susan Morrison called a “fizziness and café society […] vibe.”
Originally focused on humour and satire, the magazine gradually developed into a serious publication known for long-form journalism, in-depth political analysis and high-calibre fiction.
World War II marked a turning point. The war demanded serious, in-depth reporting, and The New Yorker rose to the challenge.
It was the war which really helped The New Yorker find its feet in terms of important non-fiction reporting […] with many more substantial writers on staff able to cover subjects at length and in detail and with authority.
The shift towards serious investigative journalism was evident in the groundbreaking 1946 publication of John Hersey’s Hiroshima, which took up an entire issue. The approach of dedicating extensive space to a single subject was repeated at key historical moments, such as the death of Princess Diana and the September 11 attacks on the World Trade Center.
A special issue was released on September 15 1997 to memorialise Princess Diana. The New Yorker
Compelling readers to slow down and engage
With some 47 issues delivered annually, The New Yorker demands readers carve out time to engage deeply with a range of hard-hitting topics. Its style of slow investigative journalism can’t be consumed in a few seconds while scrolling through social media.
Alongside its seriousness, it retains some of its effervescence through comics and extraordinary breadth, drawing readers into unexpected topics – neuroscience, fountains, squirrels – through meticulously crafted narratives.
The magazine continues in this dual function tradition, reflecting the nuance of the wider world within its covers. The tension between the immense depth and breadth of content and the finite time of readers adds to its allure. It’s a challenge for those willing to invest the time to peruse and digest its pages.
David Remnick, editor since 1998, has guided the magazine with a vision that blends tradition and innovation. In his own words, the goal is to
persist in our commitment to the joys of what Ross first envisaged as a comic weekly. But we are particularly committed to the far richer publication that emerged over time: a journal of record and imagination, reportage and poetry, words and art, commentary on the moment and reflections on the age.
The elegant trappings of a storied past
While the approach to content has evolved, some aspects of The New Yorker have remained consistent. Its visual identity, for instance, has been remarkably stable: famously done in an illustrative style, and unadorned by headlines or teasers.
The vintage aesthetic of the illustrative covers traces its origins back to 1925. The magazine employs a mix of in-house artists and freelance illustrators, with a history of collaboration with notable artists including Saul Steinberg and Art Spiegelman.
Over time, the cover art has maintained a focus on bold, thought-provoking imagery that addresses timely issues. Many covers have become cultural history, such as the black-on-black 9/11 cover.
Today, the New Yorker’s pared-back style conveys a quiet authority. It’s not swayed by fleeting trends, but remains steadfast in its dedication to art and culture, and its origins.
More than a magazine
Subscribing to The New Yorker isn’t just a matter of interest; it’s an act of intellectual self-definition. Our media choices are powerful tools in our process of self-creation.
The New Yorker has built an enviable devotion among its readers. Their homes are filled with stacks of old issues, unopened, standing as testament to their ongoing relationship with the publication.
To subscribe to the magazine is to participate in a cultural shorthand – an aspiration toward intellectual engagement. Shutterstock
Owning the magazine also signals an affiliation with a specific reading class, regardless of whether the content is ever read. The very act of displaying The New Yorker fashions an image of sophistication, intellectualism and cultural awareness.
But the stacks come with a distinct kind of guilt, too. What does it say about you that you haven’t made time to stay up to date with one of the world’s most famous outlets for investigative journalism and cutting-edge fiction?
This tension speaks to the dual nature of The New Yorker experience: holding onto a subscription signals a commitment to personal growth, yet unread magazines reflect the complexity of modern life – where time for deep, reflective reading competes with daily obligations and the instant gratification offered by digital media.
The New Yorker’s significance isn’t just about the quality of its investigative journalism or the breadth of its storytelling; it’s about identity. To subscribe is to participate in a cultural shorthand – an aspiration toward intellectual engagement.
And who knows, if you hold onto your copies long enough, perhaps they’ll become valuable relics commanding prices in the thousands, much like the first issue does today.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Five years after the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, many U.S. cities are still adjusting to a new normal, with more people working remotely and less economic activity in city centers. Other factors, such as underfunded pension plans for municipal employees, are pushing many city budgets into the red.
Urban fiscal struggles are not new, but historically they have mainly affected U.S. cities that are small, poor or saddled with incompetent managers. Today, however, even large cities, including Chicago, Houston and San Francisco, are under serious financial stress.
This is a looming nationwide threat, driven by factors that include climate change, declining downtown activity, loss of federal funds and large pension and retirement commitments.
Spending cuts abound in many U.S. cities as inflation lingers and pandemic-era stimulus dries up.
Why cities struggle
Many U.S. cities have faced fiscal crises over the past century, for diverse reasons. Most commonly, stress occurs after an economic downturn or sharp fall in tax revenues.
Florida municipalities began to default in 1926 after the collapse of a land boom. Municipal defaults were common across the nation in the 1930s during the Great Depression: As unemployment rose, relief burdens swelled and tax collections dwindled.
Declaring bankruptcy was not a cure-all. It allowed cities to refinance debt or stretch out payment schedules, but it also could lead to higher taxes and fees for residents, and lower pay and benefits for city employees. And it could stigmatize a city for many years afterward.
In the 1960s and 1970s, many urban residents and businesses left cities for adjoining suburbs. Many cities, including New York, Cleveland and Philadelphia, found it difficult to repay debts as their tax bases shrank.
The New York Daily News, Oct. 30, 1975, after U.S. President Gerald Ford ruled out providing federal aid to save the city from bankruptcy. Several months later, Ford signed legislation authorizing federal loans. Edward Stojakovic/Flickr, CC BY
In the wake of the 2008-2009 housing market collapse, cities including Detroit, San Bernardino, California, and Stockton, California, filed for bankruptcy. Other cities faced similar difficulties but were located in states that did not allow municipalities to declare bankruptcy.
Even large, affluent jurisdictions could go off the financial rails. For example, Orange County, California, went bankrupt in 2002 after its treasurer, Robert Citron, pursued a risky investment strategy of complex leveraging deals, losing some $1.65 billion in taxpayer funds.
Today, cities face a convergence of rising costs and decreasing revenues in many places. As I see it, the urban fiscal crisis is now a pervasive national challenge.
Events like wildfires and flooding have twofold effects on city finances. First, money has to be spent on rebuilding damaged infrastructure, such as roads, water lines and public buildings. Second, after the disaster, cities may either act on their own or be required under state or federal law to make expensive investments in preparation for the next storm or wildfire.
Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass (center) discusses wildfire recovery in Pacific Palisades, Calif., Jan. 27, 2025. Cleaning up after the wildfires, which destroyed more than 16,000 structures, will include disposing of several million tons of toxic ash and debris. Drew A. Kelley/MediaNews Group/Long Beach Press-Telegram via Getty Images
Increasing uncertainty about the total costs of mitigating and adapting to climate change will inevitably lead rating agencies to downgrade municipal credit ratings. This raises cities’ costs to borrow money for climate-related projects like protecting shorelines and improving wastewater treatment.
Underfunded pensions
Cities also spend a lot of money on employees, and many large cities are struggling to fund pensions and health benefits for their workforces. As municipal retirees live longer and require more health care, the costs are mounting.
For example, Chicago currently faces a budget deficit of nearly $1 billion, which stems partly from underfunded retirement benefits for nearly 30,000 public employees. The city has $35 billion in unfunded pension liabilities and almost $2 billion in unfunded retiree health benefits. Chicago’s teachers are owed $14 billion in unfunded benefits.
Policy studies have shown for years that politicians tend to underfund retirement and pension benefits for public employees. This approach offloads the real cost of providing police, fire protection and education onto future taxpayers.
In my view, President Donald Trump’s administration is highly unlikely to bail out urban areas – especially more liberal cities like Detroit, Philadelphia and San Francisco. Trump has portrayed large cities governed by Democrats in the darkest terms – for example, calling Baltimore a “rodent-infested mess” and Washington, D.C., a “dirty, crime-ridden death trap.” I expect that Trump’s animus against big cities, which was a staple of his 2024 campaign, could become a hallmark of his second term.
Detroit officials respond to disparaging remarks about the city by Donald Trump during a campaign speech in Detroit, Oct. 10, 2024.
Resistance to new taxes
Cities can generate revenue from taxes on sales, businesses, property and utilities. However, increasing municipal taxes – particularly property taxes – can be very difficult.
In 1978, California adopted Proposition 13 – a ballot measure that limited property tax increases to the rate of inflation or 2% per year, whichever is lower. This high-profile campaign created a widespread narrative that property taxes were out of control and made it very hard for local officials to support property tax increases.
Thanks to caps like Prop 13, a persistent public view that taxes are too high and political resistance, property taxes have tended to lag behind inflation in many parts of the country.
The crunch
Taking these factors together, I see a fiscal crunch coming for U.S. cities. Small cities with low budgets are particularly vulnerable. But so are larger, more affluent cities, such as San Francisco with its collapsing downtown office market, or Houston, New York and Miami, which face growing costs from climate change.
Workers in North Miami Beach, Fla., distribute sandbags to residents to help prevent flooding as Hurricane Milton approaches the state on Oct. 8, 2024. AP Photo/Wilfredo Lee
One city manager who runs an affluent municipality in the Pacific Northwest told me that in these difficult circumstances, politicians need to be more frank and open with their constituents and explain convincingly and compellingly how and why taxpayer money is being spent.
Efforts to balance city budgets are opportunities to build consensus with the public about what municipalities can do, and at what cost. The coming months will show whether politicians and city residents are ready for these hard conversations.
John Rennie Short 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.
Treasurer Jim Chalmers will not be organising a bucks’ night ahead of the coming nuptials of Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and Jodie Haydon.
How do we know this morsel of trivia? The treasurer, appearing on Wednesday breakfast TV to talk up Tuesday’s interest rate cut, was asked about being in charge of arranging the PM’s bucks’ party.
“I’m more of a cup of tea and an early night kind of guy these days. And so I’m sure you can find someone more appropriate to plan the bucks,” Chalmers said, laughing off whatever impatience he may have felt at being taken down this path.
To the dismay of more than a few in Labor circles, a Women’s Weekly interview with the PM and his fiancee dropped into the news cycle just as the government needed all attention on the rate cut.
Given the army of prime ministerial spinners, there was some wonder at this publicity collision.
All leaders do these soft photogenic sessions. But, leaving aside the unfortunate clash, it might be argued this is not the time for the prime ministerial couple to be inviting attention to their post-election marriage. Albanese is not thinking of retiring, but some voters might see a subtle hint of that. As they did when he bought his clifftop house on the central NSW coast.
Chalmers, when asked about the Women’s Weekly piece, was anxious to get across the message that, wedding or not, “I can assure all of your viewers, whether it’s the prime minister or the rest of his government, the main focus is on the cost of living”.
More disappointing for the government than the Women’s Weekly blip was the mixed reception the long-anticipated rate cut received in much of the media.
Reserve Bank Governor Michele Bullock indicated the bank’s decision to cut was a close call. She hosed down expectations of further cuts, which effectively rules out a pre-election move on April Fools’ Day.
It wasn’t an entirely happy week for Bullock, with critics of the cut suggesting she had responded to political pressure. Out in mortgage land, people will be relieved at the slight help, but it only takes away a fraction of their repayment pain.
Meanwhile the work of the cabinet expenditure review committee and the treasury continues apace on what could be a “ghost” March 25 budget – if Albanese aborts it with an April election.
The government insists there is nothing strange about this. If the budget doesn’t eventuate, the measures will be rolled out as election policy, it says. The argument is unconvincing. Preparing a budget and putting together election policy may have some things in common, but they are not the same. A budget is a close-woven tapestry; election policy is open-stitch cloth.
The uncertainty about the election date, while full campaigning is underway, is disruptive for business and the economy (even if, as Chalmers says, it’s now only a matter of weeks either way). It reinforces the argument for fixed federal terms, which work well in the states. But the obstacles are such that that’s not even worth talking about, unfortunately.
In a “no show without Punch” moment this week, Clive Palmer entered the election race with his Trumpet of Patriots party and a promise to spend “whatever is required to be spent”. There’s talk of $90 million being splashed on a “Make Australia Great Again” platform.
It’s hard to get a fix on what impact Palmer will have. He’s competing with Pauline Hanson for votes on the right. Labor fears his advertising on the cost of living will crowd out its messages. He is also targeting Opposition Leader Peter Dutton for not being Trumpian enough. He told Nine media, “As Dutton said, he’s no Donald Trump. I say, what’s wrong with being Donald Trump?”
The answer is, a very great deal. As Trump’s presidency unfolds, its dangers are becoming more obvious than even his harshest critics feared.
Inevitably, the shadow of Trump is hanging increasingly over our election.
With Trump’s win, the Liberals would have thought the latest manifestation of a widespread international swing to the right would put wind in their sails. But the counter-argument has grown – an erratic and autocratic Trump is making some Australian voters feel more unsettled and inclined to stick with the status quo.
Dutton is not a mini-me Trump but shares some of his views on issues such as government spending, bureaucracy and identity politics. Former Prime Minister Scott Morrison told the Australian Financial Review this week that Dutton would sympathise with some of Trump’s objectives but the opposition leader was “not trying to ape” what was going on in the United States.
Trump’s push to end the Russia-Ukraine war has taken Trumpism to a fresh, alarming level, and could inject strains into the Australia-US relationship.
Trump has sidelined Ukraine and is clearly favouring Russia in pursuing a settlement. Now he has launched an extraordinary personal attack on Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky.
On his social media platform Trump lashed Zelensky as a “modestly successful comedian” who had gone “into a war that couldn’t be won, that never had to start”. Zelensky was a “dictator” who refused to have elections, had done “a terrible job” and was very low in the opinion polls, Trump said.
Ukraine’s cause has been bipartisan in Australia, which has given the country more than $1.5 billion in assistance and now has (belatedly) reopened its embassy there.
To his credit, Dutton immediately condemned Trump’s stand in very forthright terms.
“President Trump has got it wrong in relation to some of the public commentary that I’ve seen him make in relation to President Zelensky and the situation in Ukraine,” he told Sydney radio.
“I think very, very careful thought needs to be given about the steps because if we make Europe less safe, or we provide some sort of support to [Russian president] Putin, deliberately or inadvertently, that is a terrible, terrible outcome.”
Albanese’s initial response was to repeat firmly Australia backing for Ukraine, condemning Russia. He did not comment directly on Trump’s attack. He repeated he was not going to give “ongoing commentary on everything that Donald Trump says”.
The government finds itself caught between the need to strongly reject Trump’s handling of Ukraine, and a desire to tread softly with an administration from whom it desperately wants to win a concession on tariffs.
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.
Truth, the new play from writer-director pair Patricia Cornelius and Susie Dee, dives headfirst into the contentious world of Julian Assange. It offers us a nuanced portrait of the WikiLeaks founder who transformed from hacker wunderkind to global lightning rod.
An apt celebration of the significant body of work from the acclaimed duo, Truth opens nearly 40 years after the pair created and performed their first collaboration, Lilly and May.
Assange rose to global prominence by publishing classified documents that exposed government secrets and surveillance programs. He became both a celebrated whistleblower and a controversial figure in debates about transparency and national security.
Truth unravels the threads of his story.
Truth reveals the complex legacy of a man whose actions have both championed and challenged modern democracy. Pia Johnson/Malthouse Theatre
A complex legacy
The work is set in a spare, black-box space, characterised by Matilda Woodroofe’s bureaucratic brutalist design.
A backdrop of hard mesh enclosures and scaffolded structures evokes a monotonous line of outdoor exercise yards or prison cells. This is flanked by colourless filing cabinets, 80s-style laminated brown desks and office chairs on wheels. A giant LED screen crowns the structure.
The ensemble (Emily Havea, Tomàš Kantor, James O’Connell, Eva Rees and Eva Seymour) weaves together key moments in Assange’s life, revealing the complex legacy of a man whose actions have both championed and challenged modern democracy.
Speaking in chorus at times, the actors perform multiple versions of Assange and other characters. They are journalists, whistleblowers, narrators, and include the key figures of Edward Snowden and Chelsea Manning.
A terrific and youthful ensemble cast delivers sensitive and energised performances. Pia Johnson/Malthouse Theatre
Characterised by Cornelius’ trademark rapid-fire dialogue, the text is tightly calibrated with smart, sparse, dry comments that, at times, comically undercut our Australian sensibilities. As one character says, “the worst thing to be in this country is too smart”.
The ensemble is physically dynamic and vocally strong. They have a particular choreographic fluidity. A spaciousness and attention to timing allows each performance to land. This is a testament both to Dee’s sharp, contained direction, and a terrific and youthful ensemble cast who deliver sensitive and energised performances.
From geek to advocate
The play moves chronologically through Assange’s life. We begin with the rocky early years marked by the dissonance between his sharp intelligence and reputation as computer nerd. We witness his arrests for hacking. We follow his evolution from awkward geek to outspoken advocate for free speech.
The play offers us a nuanced portrait of the WikiLeaks founder who transformed from hacker wunderkind to global lightning rod. Pia Johnson/Malthouse Theatre
The play is grounded in comprehensive research, and solo moments featuring Snowden and Manning serve as poignant interludes to the fast-paced narrative of Assange’s life events.
I am struck by the way the work unsettles my preconceptions. The small, stark image of a naked Private Manning in her isolated cell is particularly raw and affecting – but is juxtaposed on stage against Assange’s dubious behaviour towards two young women in Sweden.
The show clips along, all the while unfolding a nuanced consideration of the complexities of reported narratives and the myriad ways in which journalistic narratives are influenced – and controlled.
The delivery to the audience is largely direct-address. This risks becoming tedious, but Cornelius’ intelligent style and the ensemble’s strong performance carries through.
The LED screen is used to great effect. The video design (Meri Blazevski) shifts through rainstorms of binary digits, to list of early Assange manifestos or leaked stories, to pixellated images of actors’ faces as teenage gamers.
The work is set in a spare, black-box space, characterised by Matilda Woodroofe’s bureaucratic brutalist design. Pia Johnson/Malthouse Theatre
In a long and shocking sequence, we witness drone footage from the Afghanistan war logs accompanied by the chillingly dispassionate commentary of the operators.
Often, the screen becomes a surface for live video feeds which work to personalise or disembody characters, functioning variously as narrator, witness, and surveillance device. Transitions between closeups, documentation and stark data both drive and complicate the storytelling.
Kelly Ryall’s composition and sound design – often paired with the pulsing or flashing giant texts on the screen – is a retro-electronic tapestry of victory chimes, synthetic bleeps and Pac Man pings. It is all underscored by deep digital tones and rapid analogue tapping of keyboards.
A long artistic relationship
This is an intelligent and thoughtful show that manages to be both complex and entertaining. The play is particularly salient given current global events, challenging us to consider the scale of what we’re up against, how long we should remain silent, and what power – if any – we have to effect change.
In an era of heated debate about transparency and fake news, Truth emerges as a vital and edgy work in the capable hands of two highly respected theatre makers.
The work is testament to the longevity of an artistic relationship between two older women that carries decades of embodied knowledge.
Despite the persistent ageism in Australian theatre that often equates “urgency” exclusively with youth, this work reminds us older artists can and do challenge and disrupt – and bring a special and necessary currency to our cultural life.
Truth is at Malthouse Theatre, Melbourne, until March 8.
Kate Hunter 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.
Today, Australian Defence Minister Richard Marles began negotiations with his Papua New Guinean counterpart, Billy Joseph, on a defence treaty. This builds on the bilateral security agreement signed between the countries in 2023.
Analysts have been quick to link the new defence treaty with Australia’s anxiety about China’s increasingly visible presence in the Pacific region.
Because it’s only three kilometres from Australian territory, PNG has always been a particular concern. TB Millar, one of the architects of modern Australian strategic policy, went so far as to observe in 1965 that:
if the whole island [of Papua New Guinea] were to sink under the sea, the net result for Australia in terms of military strategy would be a gain. It is an exposed and vulnerable front door.
So, the possibility of a defence treaty seems like a “win” for an Australian government keen to bolster its security credentials in the frantic months before the federal election.
But the government needs to have good answers to four questions before it signs on the dotted line.
The constant agonising in Australia about whether the United States will meet its obligations under the Australia, New Zealand and United States Security Treaty (ANZUS) exemplifies this.
The Trump administration’s actions also illustrate how quickly a change of government can switch foreign and strategic policy directions, including obligations under longstanding treaties. Like ANZUS, the risk of unenforceability of the PNG treaty is higher for Australia. Australia’s anxieties about China mean that it needs the treaty more than PNG does.
Sanctions are the most likely way Australia could try to enforce the treaty if, say, PNG breached it by striking a security deal with China. But sanctions can be ineffective.
Alternatively, Australia could threaten to withdraw its support if PNG breached the treaty. But this is also unlikely because Australia knows China is likely to step into any gap.
No previous Australian government has offered PNG a binding security guarantee.
In 1977, Australia and PNG adopted a formal defence relationship. Australia, however, was cautious about instability in PNG and the risk of being drawn into a conflict along its land border with Indonesia. As such, it didn’t provide a commitment to defend PNG.
In the mid-1980s, PNG requested a defence commitment from Australia. Again, Australia was reluctant. As then-Defence Minister Kim Beazley recalled, PNG was “right in the frame of our relationship with Indonesia”, due to the shared border with Indonesia and the challenge of West Papuan independence activists crossing it.
As a compromise, the two countries made a Joint Declaration of Principles in 1987 that only provided the two governments “will consult … about matters affecting their common security interests”.
Under what circumstances, if any, would Australia provide military support to PNG if violence on the border worsened? And what impact would this have on our relationship with Indonesia?
Not responding to a call for support from PNG could damage Australia’s reputation in the region. But if Australia did become involved in a conflict, it may be criticised for supporting activities that breach human rights.
The risk of Australia being unable to respond to a PNG request for military assistance is high because Australia does not have the defence (or policing) capacity to defend or stabilise a sprawling country like PNG.
Australia’s reliance on US assistance to stabilise Timor-Leste after its 1999 independence referendum illustrates the logistical challenges it faces when making large deployments, even in the region.
While Australia’s defence capabilities have improved since then, it would still likely only have the capacity to secure key cities in PNG and evacuate Australian citizens if there was serious unrest.
3. Can Australia justify the cost at home?
Australian taxpayers – already experiencing cost-of-living pressures – need to be told what funding commitments the government is willing to make to facilitate the treaty negotiations.
Australia’s promise of A$600 million to fund a PNG team in the National Rugby League is already attracting opposition at home.
4. What are the long-term defence plans?
PNG’s strategic location means Australia and the US have long had designs on establishing a permanent military base there.
Manus Island, for example, has been identified as an ideal submarine base. With Australia developing nuclear-powered submarines under the AUKUS partnership, are there plans to eventually base – or at least resupply – Australian submarines there?
This could have an impact on Australia’s relationships in the broader Pacific Islands region. There are already concerns in the region about whether the nuclear-powered submarines will comply with Australia’s obligations under the South Pacific Nuclear Free Zone Treaty.
Australia has legitimate strategic interests in PNG. As such, it’s understandable why a defence treaty is tempting.
But for 50 years, Australian governments have resisted this temptation because they decided that the risks outweighed the rewards. The current government will need to provide a good justification for its change of course.
Joanne Wallis receives funding from the Australian Research Council and the Australian Department of Defence. She is a Nonresident Senior Fellow of the Brookings Institution, a nonprofit public policy organisation.
Microsoft says the Majorana 1 processor is a ‘transformative leap toward practical quantum computing’.Microsoft
Researchers at Microsoft have announced the creation of the first “topological qubits” in a device that stores information in an exotic state of matter, in what may be a significant breakthrough for quantum computing.
At the same time, the researchers also published a paper in Nature and a “roadmap” for further work. The design of the Majorana 1 processor is supposed to fit up to a million qubits, which may be enough to realise many significant goals of quantum computing – such as cracking cryptographic codes and designing new drugs and materials faster.
If Microsoft’s claims pan out, the company may have leapfrogged competitors such as IBM and Google, who currently appear to be leading the race to build a quantum computer.
However, the peer-reviewed Nature paper only shows part of what the researchers have claimed, and the roadmap still includes many hurdles to be overcome. While the Microsoft press release shows off something that is supposed to be quantum computing hardware, we don’t have any independent confirmation of what it can do. Nevertheless, the news from Microsoft is very promising.
By now you probably have some questions. What’s a topological qubit? What’s a qubit at all, for that matter? And why do people want quantum computers in the first place?
Quantum bits are hard to build
Quantum computers were first dreamed up in the 1980s. Where an ordinary computer stores information in bits, a quantum computer stores information in quantum bits – or qubits.
An ordinary bit can have a value of 0 or 1, but a quantum bit (thanks to the laws of quantum mechanics, which govern very small particles) can have a combination of both. If you imagine an ordinary bit as an arrow that can point either up or down, a qubit is an arrow that can point in any direction (or what is called a “superposition” of up and down).
This means a quantum computer would be much faster than an ordinary computer for certain kinds of calculations – particularly some to do with unpicking codes and simulating natural systems.
So far, so good. But it turns out that building real qubits and getting information in and out of them is extremely difficult, because interactions with the outside world can destroy the delicate quantum states inside.
Researchers have tried a lot of different technologies to make qubits, using things like atoms trapped in electric fields or eddies of current swirling in superconductors.
Tiny wires and exotic particles
Microsoft has taken a very different approach to build its “topological qubits”. They have used what are called Majorana particles, first theorised in 1937 by Italian physicist Ettore Majorana.
Majoranas are not naturally occurring particles like electrons or protons. Instead, they only exist inside a rare kind of material called a topological superconductor (which requires advanced material design and must be cooled down to extremely low temperatures).
Indeed, Majorana particles are so exotic they are usually only studied in universities – not used in practical applications.
The Microsoft team say they have used a pair of tiny wires, each with a Majorana particle trapped at either end, to act as a qubit. They measure the value of the qubit – expressed by means of whether an electron is in one wire or the other – using microwaves.
Braided bits
Why has Microsoft put in all this effort? Because by swapping the positions of Majorana particles (or measuring them in a certain way), they can be “braided” so they can be measured without error and are resistant to outside interference. (This is the “topological” part of “topological qubits”.)
In theory, a quantum computer made using Majorana particles can be completely free of the qubit errors that plague other designs.
This is why Microsoft has chosen such a seemingly laborious approach. Other technologies are more prone to errors, and hundreds of physical qubits may need to be combined together to produce a single reliable “logical qubit”.
Microsoft has instead put its time and resources into developing Majorana-based qubits. While they are late to the big quantum party, they hope they will be able to catch up quickly.
There’s always a catch
As always, if something sounds too good to be true, there is a catch. Even for a Majorana-based quantum computer, such as the one announced by Microsoft, one operation – known as T-gate – won’t be achievable without errors.
So the Majorana-based quantum chip is only “almost error-free”. However, correcting for T-gate errors is much simpler than the general error correction of other quantum platforms.
Microsoft plans to scale up by grouping together more and more qubits. Microsoft
What now? Microsoft will try to move ahead with its roadmap, steadily building larger and larger collections of qubits.
The scientific community will closely watch how Microsoft’s quantum computing processors operate, and how they perform in comparison to the other already established quantum computing processors.
At the same time, research into the exotic and obscure behaviour of Majorana particles will continue at universities around the globe.
Stephan Rachel receives funding from Australian Research Council (ARC).
Routine x-rays aren’t recommended to diagnose the condition. Instead, GPs can make a diagnosis based on symptoms and medical history.
Yet nearly half of new patients with knee osteoarthritis who visit a GP in Australia are referred for imaging. Osteoarthritis imaging costs the health system A$104.7 million each year.
Our new study shows using x-rays to diagnose knee osteoarthritis can affect how a person thinks about their knee pain – and can prompt them to consider potentially unnecessary knee replacement surgery.
What happens when you get osteoarthritis?
Osteoarthritis arises from joint changes and the joint working extra hard to repair itself. It affects the entire joint, including the bones, cartilage, ligaments and muscles.
It is most common in older adults, people with a high body weight and those with a history of knee injury.
Many people with knee osteoarthritis experience persistent pain and have difficulties with everyday activities such as walking and climbing stairs.
Hospital services for osteoarthritis, primarily driven by joint replacement surgery, cost $3.7 billion in 2020–21.
While joint replacement surgery is often viewed as inevitable for osteoarthritis, it should only be considered for those with severe symptoms who have already tried appropriate non-surgical treatments. Surgery carries the risk of serious adverse events, such as blood clot or infection, and not everyone makes a full recovery.
However, research shows the extent of structural changes seen in a joint on an x-ray does not reflect the level of pain or disability a person experiences, nor does it predict how symptoms will change.
Some people with minimal joint changes have very bad symptoms, while others with more joint changes have only mild symptoms. This is why routine x-rays aren’t recommended for diagnosing knee osteoarthritis or guiding treatment decisions.
Instead, guidelines recommend a “clinical diagnosis” based on a person’s age (being 45 years or over) and symptoms: experiencing joint pain with activity and, in the morning, having no joint-stiffness or stiffness that lasts less than 30 minutes.
Our study aimed to find out if using x-rays to diagnose knee osteoarthritis affects a person’s beliefs about osteoarthritis management, compared to a getting a clinical diagnosis without x-rays.
We recruited 617 people from across Australia and randomly assigned them to watch one of three videos. Each video showed a hypothetical consultation with a general practitioner about knee pain.
People with knee osteoarthritis can have difficulties getting down stairs. beeboys/Shutterstock
One group received a clinical diagnosis of knee osteoarthritis based on age and symptoms, without being sent for an x-ray.
The other two groups had x-rays to determine their diagnosis (the doctor showed one group their x-ray images and not the other).
After watching their assigned video, participants completed a survey about their beliefs about osteoarthritis management.
What did we find?
People who received an x-ray-based diagnosis and were shown their x-ray images had a 36% higher perceived need for knee replacement surgery than those who received a clinical diagnosis (without x-ray).
They also believed exercise and physical activity could be more harmful to their joint, were more worried about their condition worsening, and were more fearful of movement.
Interestingly, people were slightly more satisfied with an x-ray-based diagnosis than a clinical diagnosis.
This may reflect the common misconception that osteoarthritis is caused by “wear and tear” and an assumption that the “damage” inside the joint needs to be seen to guide treatment.
What does this mean for people with osteoarthritis?
Our findings show why it’s important to avoid unnecessary x-rays when diagnosing knee osteoarthritis.
While changing clinical practice can be challenging, reducing unnecessary x-rays could help ease patient anxiety, prevent unnecessary concern about joint damage, and reduce demand for costly and potentially unnecessary joint replacement surgery.
Previous research in osteoarthritis, as well as back and shoulder pain, similarly shows that when health professionals focus on joint “wear and tear” it can make patients more anxious about their condition and concerned about damaging their joints.
If you have knee osteoarthritis, know that routine x-rays aren’t needed for diagnosis or to determine the best treatment for you. Getting an x-ray can make you more concerned and more open to surgery. But there are a range of non-surgical options that could reduce pain, improve mobility and are less invasive.
Belinda Lawford receives funding from Arthritis Australia, Medical Research Future Fund and Medibank. She is a Steering Committee Member of the Osteoarthritis Research Society International Rehabilitation Group, and also an Editorial Board member for Journal of Orthopaedic and Sports Physical Therapy.
Kim Bennell receives research funding from the National Health and Medical Research Council and the Medical Research Futures Fund as well as Medibank Private. Some of the consumer resources recommended in this article have been developed by her research team. She consults for Wolters Kluwers UptoDate knee osteoarthritis clinical guidelines
Rana Hinman receives funding from National Health and Medical Research Council, the Medical Research Future Fund and Medibank. Some of the consumer resources recommended in this article have been developed by her research team. She is also an Editorial Board member for Journal of Physiotherapy.
Travis Samuel William Haber is a Steering Committee Member of the Osteoarthritis Research Society International Rehabilitation Group and of the Australian and New Zealand Musculoskeletal Clinical Trials Network Osteoarthritis Special Interest Group.
Poor people in vast city slums across the Global South are burning plastic to cook their food, warm their homes and boil water for hot showers.
Waste plastic is plentiful and highly flammable. So it’s not surprising people in developing countries, mainly in Africa, Asia and Latin America, are putting it to use – especially as wood is increasingly scarce.
But burning plastic is hazardous, as it releases toxins into the surrounding air – and possibly into the food on the stove.
We wanted to draw attention to this growing problem, which has received little attention to date despite the many potential harms.
In our new “perspective” paper, published in Nature Cities, we explain why so many communities are using plastic as an energy source.
We then explore further research needed and recommend ways for policymakers to tackle the issue.
Plastic production is still accelerating. Global plastic use is predicted to almost triple by 2060 due to soaring demand from a growing population with rising incomes.
Unfortunately, most plastic is not recycled. Instead, it is discarded and ultimately ends up polluting marginal land such as flooded areas and open dumping grounds before making its way into the ocean.
Burning plastic waste for cooking and heating is becoming increasingly common in city slums. a–f, Photographs showing the use of plastic to start a fire in Koshi Province in Nepal (a), a household heating milk by burning plastic in Madhesh province of Nepal (b) and the burning of plastic in Guwahati, India (c), in Enugu, Nigeria (d,e) and in the slums of Lahore, Pakistan (f). Credits for photographs: a, Srijana Baniya; b, Pramesh Dhungana; c, Monjit Borthakur; d,e, Chizoba Obianuju Oranu; f, Sobia Rose. Bharadwaj, B., Gates, T., Borthakur, M. et al. The use of plastic as a household fuel among the urban poor in the Global South. Nat Cities (2025).
A product of energy poverty in city slums
Increasing urbanisation is reducing access to traditional fuels such as wood and crop residue from farmland.
But plastic is readily available. Low-income households with little or no access to gas or electricity often find themselves living alongside mountains of rubbish.
This plastic, made from fossil fuels, represents a cheap and convenient fuel. It’s lightweight, easy to transport, and a nuisance material that people want to be rid of. Plastic is also relatively easy to dry and store, but can burn even when wet. It’s also flexible and pliable, so it can be used easily in traditional cooking arrangements such as basic stoves.
The more vulnerable people in the household – including women and children and those who spend more time indoors – tend to be most exposed to the fumes. But the problem also affects people in the neighbourhood and the wider community.
Burning plastic is likely to also contaminate food. For example, eggs from farms near plastic waste incinerators in Indonesia contained hazardous chemicals from burned plastic. However, more evidence is needed around food contamination.
Furthermore, when households burn plastic bottles and other containers, some of the original contents also burn. Given chemicals are poorly regulated, the consequences of burning plastic could be greater still.
Extensive research is needed to design the most effective and inclusive policy interventions. This needs to be addressed if we are to reduce the associated health and environmental impacts on such large populations across the world.
We have gathered a collaborative, multidisciplinary team of researchers from around 35 countries – mostly in the Global South – to better understand the problem. We recently completed a survey of people exposed to the issue such as local government employees, teachers and community workers in more than 100 cities in 26 countries.
We are also examining the emissions from waste plastic during food preparation to determine the extent of contamination in variety of stoves.
Nobody wants to burn plastic waste to cook food, so policies like ban on burning plastic with out contextual intervention will not work. There is a need to design inclusive policy interventions that provide equitable benefits to the wider community. For example, encouraging people to:
wash any plastic before it is burned, to remove chemical residues
use improved cookstoves that vent the fumes outside
expand basic urban amenities like waste management to low income settlements
provide support to help lift households out of poverty.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
A New Zealand-based community education provider, Dark Times Academy, has had a US Embassy grant to deliver a course teaching Pacific Islands journalists about disinformation terminated after the new Trump administration took office.
The new US administration requested a list of course participants and to review the programme material amid controversy over a “freeze” on federal aid policies.
The course presentation team refused and the contract was terminated by “mutual agreement” — but the eight-week Pacific workshop is going ahead anyway from next week.
Dark Times Academy’s co-founder Mandy Henk . . . “A Bit Sus”, an evidence-based peer-reviewed series of classes on disinfiormation for Pacific media. Image: Newsroom
“As far as I can tell, the current foreign policy priorities of the US government seem to involve terrorising the people of Gaza, annexing Canada, invading Greenland, and bullying Panama,” said Dark Times Academy co-founder Mandy Henk.
“We felt confident that a review of our materials would not find them to be aligned with those priorities.”
The course, called “A Bit Sus”, is an evidence-based peer-reviewed series of classes that teach key professions the skills needed to identify and counter disinformation and misinformation in their particular field.
The classes focus on “prebunking”, lateral reading, and how technology, including generative AI, influences disinformation.
Awarded competitive funds Dark Times Academy was originally awarded the funds to run the programme through a public competitive grant offered by the US Embassy in New Zealand in 2023 under the previous US administration.
The US Embassy grant was focused on strengthening the capacity of Pacific media to identify and counter disinformation. While funded by the US, the course was to be a completely independent programme overseen by Dark Times Academy and its academic consultants.
Co-founder Henk was preparing to deliver the education programme to a group of Pacific Island journalists and media professionals, but received a request from the US Embassy in New Zealand to review the course materials to “ensure they are in line with US foreign policy priorities”.
Henk said she and the other course presenters refused to allow US government officials to review the course material for this purpose.
She said the US Embassy had also requested a “list of registered participants for the online classes,” which Dark Times Academy also declined to provide as compliance would have violated the New Zealand Privacy Act 2020.
Henk said the refusal to provide the course materials for review led immediately to further discussions with the US Embassy in New Zealand that ultimately resulted in the termination of the grant “by mutual agreement”.
However, she said Dark Times Academy would still go ahead with running the course for the Pacific Island journalists who had signed up so far, starting on February 26.
Continuing the programme “The Dark Times Academy team fully intends to continue to bring the ‘A Bit Sus’ programme and other classes to the Pacific region and New Zealand, even without the support of the US government,” Henk said.
“As noted when we first announced this course, the Pacific Islands have experienced accelerated growth in digital connectivity over the past few years thanks to new submarine cable networks and satellite technology.
“Alongside this, the region has also seen a surge in harmful rumours and disinformation that is increasingly disrupting the ability to share accurate and truthful information across Pacific communities.
“This course will help participants from the media recognise common tactics used by disinformation agents and support them to deploy proven educational and communications techniques.
“By taking a skills-based approach to countering disinformation, our programme can help to spread the techniques needed to mitigate the risks posed by digital technologies,” Henk said.
Especially valuable for journalists Dark Times Academy co-founder Byron Clark said the course would be especially valuable for journalists in the Pacific region given the recent shifts in global politics and the current state of the planet.
Dark Times Academy co-founder and author Byron Clark . . . “We saw the devastating impacts of disinformation in the Pacific region during the measles outbreak in Samoa.” Image: APR
“We saw the devastating impacts of disinformation in the Pacific region during the measles outbreak in Samoa, for example,” said Clark, author of the best-selling book Fear: New Zealand’s Underworld of Hostile Extremists.
“With Pacific Island states bearing the brunt of climate change, as well as being caught between a geopolitical stoush between China and the West, a course like this one is timely.”
Henk said the “A Bit Sus” programme used a “high-touch teaching model” that combined the current best evidence on how to counter disinformation with a “learner-focused pedagogy that combines discussion, activities, and a project”.
Past classes led to the creation of the New Zealand version of the “Euphorigen Investigation” escape room, a board game, and a card game.
These materials remain in use across New Zealand schools and community learning centres.
His approach this time was unprecedented. Instead of focusing on past and present threats, Burgess declassified parts of ASIO’s assessment for the future, warning us about Australia’s security outlook to 2030.
Over the next five years, ASIO is expecting “an unprecedented number of challenges, and an unprecedented cumulative level of potential harm”, Burgess warned. At the same time, the threat environment will become more diverse.
Espionage and foreign interference are already at extreme levels, but are anticipated to intensify. Sabotage is expected to pose an increasing threat. Politically motivated violence and communal violence will also remain an elevated concern.
What does this mean for our criminal laws? Are they robust enough to protect us from the growing and diversifying threat of espionage, sabotage and foreign interference? Or will they need bolstering?
What are the threats?
Espionage, or spying, involves the theft of information. Burgess has warned that both our enemies and our friends will seek to steal information from us.
This includes information about our military capabilities and alliances, such as AUKUS.
Instead of using traditional spies to gather this information, Burgess expects greater use of proxies.
These proxies could be unwittingly involved in the espionage efforts of a foreign country – such as private investigators. Or they could know exactly what they’re doing.
Foreign interference involves covertly shaping decision-making to the advantage of a foreign power. Burgess has warned that foreign governments are monitoring, intimidating and coercing Australians and diaspora communities, including engaging in coerced repatriations.
He also expects that foreign interference may be used to undermine community support for AUKUS.
Concerningly, ASIO has disrupted plots by foreign countries to physically harm (or even kill) people living in Australia. This includes activists, journalists and ordinary citizens – all critics of certain foreign governments.
Both espionage and foreign interference will be enabled by advances in technology, including artificial intelligence (AI), deep fakes and large online pools of personal data.
Sabotage involves deliberately destroying or damaging infrastructure.
Russia has been engaging in diverse acts of sabotage in Europe, aiming to erode support for Ukraine and damage cohesion. These attacks include arson against various types of infrastructure (including defence and munitions facilities), jamming civil aviation GPS systems, and disrupting railways.
While Burgess warned that the risk of similar attacks against Australia is increasing (including attacks against infrastructure arising out of AUKUS), cyber-enabled sabotage will be of more concern. At the moment, foreign governments are exploring and exploiting Australia’s critical infrastructure networks to map systems and maintain access in the future.
As with espionage, Burgess expects criminal proxies to be used more frequently to engage in sabotage. This includes state-sponsored or state-supported terrorist groups.
Are our laws ready to deal with this?
With the espionage, sabotage and foreign interference threat growing and diversifying over the next five years, you’d be right to ask whether our criminal laws are robust enough to stand up to the challenge.
For the most part, they are.
All the laws apply to conduct that occurs “in the real world” and online. The laws also apply to any foreign country, including our friends, as well as terrorist organisations.
In addition to foreign countries, the laws apply to conduct on behalf of a foreign country, including where the conduct is directed, funded or supervised by the foreign country or a person acting on its behalf. This means the laws would apply to proxies hired to engage in espionage or sabotage.
Our sabotage laws are broad enough to cover the explorations of critical infrastructure networks currently being undertaken. An act of sabotage does not have to be committed to be an offence under these laws.
Our foreign interference laws would cover coerced repatriations. While plots to harm Australians may also fall within these offences, a number of other offences also exist for harming or killing Australian citizens or residents.
Room for improvement
Our espionage, sabotage and foreign interference laws certainly are “world-leading”. However, there are some drawbacks.
For example, the laws are yet to grapple with the rise of AI and its use to gather information for espionage or generate mis- or disinformation for foreign interference.
While the laws have broad extraterritorial reach – they apply to conduct that occurs within or outside Australia – the practicalities of enforcing the laws when offenders are located overseas is a big barrier.
But in today’s digital age where espionage, sabotage and foreign interference can be conducted online from the safety of a foreign country and therefore beyond the reach of Australia’s criminal law, we need more than a robust legal response.
As Burgess stressed, these issues “require whole of government, whole of community, whole of society responses […] national security is truly national security: everybody’s business”.
We all need to be aware of the risks and what we – as individuals, employees, researchers and business owners – can do to mitigate them.
This article was written in Sarah Kendall’s personal capacity as an Adjunct Research Fellow at the University of Queensland School of Law. It does not reflect the views of the Queensland Law Reform Commission or the Queensland Government.
The tennis world is still reeling after news the number one ranked men’s player, Jannik Sinner, agreed to a three-month suspension issued by the World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) to be served between the Australian and French Opens.
Sinner, a three-time Grand Slam winner, received the ban after twice testing positive for clostebol, a steroid banned by the World-Anti Doping Code, in March 2024.
“Unintentional doping offences” – as in Sinner’s case – can attract a maximum two-year ban even if the athlete shows no fault or negligence.
Sinner’s three-month ban was immediately criticised by many in the media and within tennis circles due to its leniency and convenient timing. It also did not result from a hearing before an anti-doping tribunal or the Court of Arbitration for Sport, as has been the case with other tennis players who have received bans in the past.
The suspension was the product of a “case resolution agreement” (a negotiated settlement) between WADA and Sinner.
WADA initially appealed the International Tennis Integrity Agency’s decision not to suspend Sinner on the basis of demonstrating no significant fault or negligence, but withdrew its case before the Court of Arbitration for Sport.
Sinner argued the banned substance entered his system after a massage by a physiotherapist in his entourage who had used a cream with clostebol to treat a cut on his finger.
Both WADA and the International Tennis Integrity Agency accepted this version of events.
In the eyes of most, WADA’s actions failed to pass the “pub test” and many high-profile tennis players voiced their concerns.
Novak Djokovic flagged issues over the treatment of high-ranked athletes such as Sinner compared to lower-ranked players.
For example, Chilean Nicolas Jarry was suspended for 11 months in 2020 after testing positive to ligandrol and stanozolol that he alleged were in a supplement he took.
In 2023 Sweden’s Mikael Ymer was suspended for 18 months by the Court of Arbitration for Sport for failing to submit to three out-of-competition tests in a 12-month period.
Great Britain’s Tara Moore took nearly two years to clear her name before an anti-doping tribunal in 2023 revealed contaminated meat had led to her positive tests for nandrolone and boldenone. Despite this decision, Moore served a 19-month ban.
Djokovic’s view suggested favouritism for higher-ranked players, who can access top lawyers. He also criticised a lack of transparency in the Sinner agreement with WADA.
However, high-ranked players such as Simona Halep and Maria Sharapova have received lengthy suspensions for doping violations.
Nick Kyrgios was similarly critical, stating it was a sad day for the sport and that fairness in tennis did not exist.
Former Spanish player Feliciano Lopez was among those who supported Sinner. He said he believed in clean sport and that Sinner had not enhanced his performance and took responsibility for the actions of his physiotherapist.
Intentional and unintentional doping
The criticisms appear to be based on a misunderstanding of the anti-doping provisions in the World Anti-Doping Code and the failure by WADA to clearly communicate its rationale for Sinner’s suspension.
Rather than favouritism for a high-ranked player, WADA’s decision to suspend Sinner for three months was based on the distinction in the World Anti-Doping Code between intentional and unintentional doping. It found that Sinner:
had not intended to cheat using clostebol
received no performance-enhancing benefit from the substance
had no knowledge of the administration of the substance.
But WADA argued that under the code, Sinner was responsible for the negligence of his entourage and issued the suspension.
WADA confirmed its rationale for the three-month suspension after Spanish media pointed out that figure skater Laura Barquero had received a six-year ban for a positive test of clostebol.
WADA differentiated the two cases based on intention. It was not convinced by Barquero’s explanation of how clostebol entered her system, while it said the evidence supported Sinner’s version of events.
Lessons from the Sinner case
So what can be learned from Sinner’s case?
One of the most important legal issues arising from the Sinner case is the distinction in the anti-doping rules between intentional and unintentional doping.
This distinction explains the difference in penalties between Sinner and other athletes.
Also, the facts of a doping case are relevant in determining circumstances that may reduce the severity of a penalty in matters resolved by negotiated case resolution agreements.
An important lesson for WADA is ensuring transparency in proceedings and the clear communication of the rationale used to arrive at a penalty.
Finally, a Court of Arbitration for Sport hearing may not have been needed for Sinner as the parties agreed on the facts leading to the doping rule violation.
Matt Nichol 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 goal of science is to uncover truths and create new knowledge. But this is not always welcome. Increasingly, scientific findings are being attacked or downplayed. And scientists themselves face intimidation or harassment.
In our global study of more than 2,000 scientists across six areas of science, two-fifths (41%) of respondents had, as a result of their work, been harassed or intimidated at least once over a five-year period.
Intimidation efforts included online abuse, physical threats, and threats to budgets or employment. Harassment, while personal, could be meted out by superiors, colleagues or outsiders. Some scientists felt their leaders had thrown them under the bus to protect the institution’s reputation.
Who’s doing the intimidation? Strikingly, a majority of cases of intimidation and harassment actually came from inside the institution for most fields. That is, it was perpetrated by senior colleagues or managers. But for climate scientists, most intimidation efforts came from outside.
Intimidation of scientists doesn’t happen in a vacuum. In recent years, there has been a rise in populist leaders who pour scorn on “elites” and evidence. Scientific issues are increasingly politicised. Disinformation is rampant. This atmosphere adds to the pressure faced by scientists, especially those working in politically sensitive areas such as climate science or COVID.
We used an online database of scientists to find and contact experts publishing in six fields: climate science, medical health, humanities and social science, food and plant science, astronomy, and other STEM areas.
More than 2,000 responded to our survey on whether they had experienced various types of intimidation or harassment. We asked respondents for more detail on the perpetrators, what triggered the incident, and what effect it had on them.
Many respondents had a clear view as to what the intimidation or harassment was meant to do. The motivations of perpetrators varied greatly. But the most common reasons were to damage their reputation, to stop them from publishing certain types of research, or to “put me in my place”.
Specific fields of science were more prone to harassment and intimidation – in particular climate science, and humanities and social science.
Among those scientists who had been intimidated, climate scientists reported online abuse three times more often than astronomers. Climate science is politically charged, because climate change is clearly linked to pollution from some of the world’s largest industries – oil, gas and coal. Astronomy is not. Half of the climate scientist respondents experiencing intimidation saw the bad behaviour as a way to discourage them from undertaking specific research and speaking about it.
Researchers from humanities and social sciences faced similar levels of online abuse to climate scientists.
When it came to personal harassment, there was a clear gender dimension. Among those who reported experiencing harassment, female scientists were more than four times more likely to report “unwelcome or inappropriate behaviour of a sexual nature” than their male counterparts. Women were affected almost twice as much as men by non-sexual forms of personal harassment.
Our findings follow earlier research finding similar rates of intimidation. For instance, a 2021 survey of 321 scientists working on COVID-19 found 15% had received death threats and 22% received threats of sexual violence.
Intimidation and harassment are damaging
The consequences of intimidation are profound and far-reaching. Many scientists told us the experience had caused lasting damage, whether to wellbeing, career prospects or research activities.
More than 40% of those affected said their career prospects had worsened following incidents of harassment. Just over a third (34%) reported a decline in their desire to work in science. Scientists who experienced intimidation often cut back their collaboration with colleagues (35%), leaving them more isolated.
Many of our respondents described flow-on effects such as decreased access to funding (35% of respondents) and less public communication from their institution about their work (23%).
Scientists targeted with multiple types of harassment reported very damaging effects, from difficulty finding their next job to poor mental health.
Intimidation slows progress
Intimidation and harassment have a chilling effect on science. This, in turn, could hinder progress on crucial issues such as climate change, public health and technological advancements.
The disproportionate impact on women and researchers in politically sensitive fields threatens to undermine diversity and inclusivity in science.
Without targeted interventions, women in science may continue to suffer disproportionate levels of harassment and intimidation. This will have long-term implications for gender diversity in scientific leadership and the direction of research in various fields.
In the United States, the Trump administration’s withdrawals from the Paris climate agreement and the World Health Organization are likely to further embolden anti-science movements. Many American scientific institutions are engaged inanticipatory obedience of the Trump administration’s demands that diversity and anti-discrimination programs be abolished, or climate change stop being mentioned. Many even go beyond what is explicitly sought.
Science and academia is often seen as a bastion of free inquiry and open discussion. One of our most surprising findings was how common intimidation was within scientific institutions.
The key to beating intimidation is organisational support and clear strategies, not obedience. These include:
genuine commitment to institutional policies protecting scientists from both internal and external intimidation
formal, well-resourced support systems for researchers facing harassment or pressure (not the HR office)
programs to increase public understanding of the scientific process to build trust and resilience to misinformation
boosting international collaboration between scientists and policymakers to ensure resilience against country-specific efforts to undermine science
educating the public on the importance of scientific independence and of fostering respectful dialogue around contentious topics.
As populist movements gain traction in many countries, scientists working on controversial issues will face heightened scrutiny – and potentially more intimidation.
Climate science is likely to remain a particularly contested field. As the damage wrought by climate change becomes more and more apparent, it will get even more contentious.
Over the last few centuries, science has produced breakthroughs in many areas. But the integrity of science is not guaranteed. Harassment and intimidation from both inside and outside institutions has a very real effect on scientists.
The future of evidence-based decision-making and ability to tackle global challenges depends on fostering an environment where scientists can work free from fear and undue pressure.
Robert Hale receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
David Peetz undertook research over many years with occasional financial support from governments from both sides of politics, employers and unions. He has been and is involved in several Australian Research Council-funded projects, including this one.
Ian Lowe was president of the Australian Conservation Foundation from 2004 to 2014.
Carolyn Troup and Georgina Murray 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.
Whyalla is a proud steel town. The steelworks physically dominates the townscape, and most jobs in the town are either directly at the steelworks or heavily reliant on it.
In recent months, however, the steelworks have lurched from one setback to another, from serious technical problems that forced shutdowns to rising debts owed to suppliers and the state government.
For me, someone intimately involved in the steel industry, the news that the steelworks has been put into administration is not a shock. This has been coming for some time.
On Thursday, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese unveiled a A$2.4 billion rescue package.
A portion of this money will be used to address immediate debt issues and keep the plant afloat. But $1.9 billion has been earmarked for major, long-term infrastructure upgrades under a new owner.
The next steps will be crucial if this vital component of Australia’s manufacturing infrastructure – and heart of the town of Whyalla – is to survive.
How we got here
Whyalla’s steelworks was founded by BHP and opened in 1941, originally concentrating on ship building. It later transitioned to producing structural and rail products during the 1970s and ‘80s.
After the steel division was spun out of BHP in 2000, the steelworks operated under the OneSteel banner, which was renamed Arrium in 2012.
The plant has been in decline for a couple of decades. Its products have had difficulty competing against overseas imports and there have been issues with the scale of production and costs.
GFG is led by Indian-born British billionaire Sanjeev Gupta, who owns steel plants across the world. Until recently, he was a relatively unknown figure in the steel industry, but rapidly built up a steel empire after buying his first major steel plant in the UK in 2013.
Gupta’s business practices have recently drawn close scrutiny from regulators in the UK, particularly the financing arrangements for several of his businesses. GFG’s largest lender, Greensill Capital, collapsed in 2021.
A failure to turn things around
Upon purchasing the plant in 2017, GFG promised to invest in upgrading the equipment and move the steelworks towards “green” steel production.
But these investments never materialised, and the operations have continued to lose money. There have also been significant operational issues over the past year, resulting in months of no production.
These challenges have been compounded by what appears to be poor management of key equipment in the plant, particularly the blast furnace.
The steelworks has been beset by technical issues over the past year. Adwo/Shutterstock
Keeping blast furnaces running smoothly is one most important technical issues facing any steelmaker.
A string of recent breakdowns, resulting in major production shutdowns in 2024, does not reflect well on GFG.
On Wednesday, SA Premier Peter Malinauskas said the state government had been forced to step in, given debts of more than $300 million owed by GFG and reports workers weren’t being paid.
Still a valuable asset
The town of Whyalla will be watching the outcome of the state and federal governments’ rescue plan with bated breath. If it’s not to be GFG, who should be trusted with taking over and running the steelworks?
In such times, it is worth pointing out some of the key advantages of the plant that could make it an attractive asset to prospective owners.
Whyalla has good port facilities, a major iron ore deposit (Middleback Range) nearby, and abundant renewable energy.
It also has an experienced and trained workforce, with established product lines that are in demand (particularly rail steel).
Bluescope has been touted as one potential new owner. But there is also likely to be foreign interest, given the potential for linking steel production to renewable energy in Whyalla.
Taking Whyalla into the future
The current scale of the Whyalla steelworks, about 1.2 million tonnes of raw steel per year, is simply too small to be competitive. It is operating in a market where plants producing more than 3 million tonnes per year are common.
The plant’s product range could be broadened and raised in value by investing in key steelmaking equipment.
The general shift towards green production routes also presents opportunities for Whyalla. The local abundance of solar energy is likely to be a significant advantage for the plant’s future.
However, converting from the plant from its current coal-based technology to non-coal based technology (such as hydrogen ironmaking) will take significant investment and technical skill.
Whyalla is close to iron ore deposits in the Middleback Range. Adwo/Shutterstock
Opportunities for Australia
Could Australia simply let the steelworks shut down and import its rail steel instead?
That would draw parallels with Australia’s car manufacturing sector, which the government ultimately allowed to collapse. But I believe this position is unlikely to attract much support.
For one, there would be an enormous human cost to the people of Whyalla. The town of 20,000 people would be economically devastated by the plant’s closure.
There’s also a fear such a move would further weaken Australia’s ability to generate long-term wealth. Historically, the steel industry has been an important generator of long-term jobs and national wealth.
And it would certainly be demoralising for our manufacturing sector. Australia has plentiful ore, energy and a huge railway network. We should be able to run a sustainable steel plant specialising in rail and structural steel.
All these challenges need investment and strong technical leadership. The decisions taken by the state and federal government in the next few months will be vital for Whyalla’s future.
Geoffrey Brooks receives funding from the HILT CRC, ARC Steel Innovation Hub and Victorian Hydrogen Hub for fundamental research into steelmaking. The Liberty GFG company and other steel companies financially invest into these research bodies and directly support some of his steelmaking research. He is also the Chairman of the Association of Iron and Steel Technology Australian and New Zealand Chapter. This organisation organises conferences and seminars on steelmaking topics. His activity in this Chapter is on a voluntary basis.
The low-productivity bogeyman has long haunted New Zealand, with people working longer hours for lower output than other comparable countries. The country is now one of the least productive in the OECD.
At its most basic level, productivity measures how much output can be produced with a set of inputs. The inputs can be the work of staff, as well as technical innovation, research and development and automation to encourage more efficient processes.
But after decades of lagging behind the rest of the world, a growing body of research shows the answer could lie in greater support for workers’ mental health.
Linking productivity and mental health
For many, increasing productivity equates to people working “harder” for longer hours – the implication being that if only we “pulled finger” and “knuckled down” the country’s productivity would magically increase.
Instead, could the answer to our productivity crisis be in improving the psychological functioning and mental health of our workforce?
There is a substantial body of evidence showing poor mental health is related to poor productivity. Recent New Zealand data show workers with the poorest mental health lost more than three times the number of productive workdays annually (71 days) than those with the highest mental health (19 days).
One of the more notable initiatives happened in our own backyard. Andrew Barnes from Perpetual Guardian has been a vocal proponent of four-day work week.
This doesn’t mean packing a 40-hour week into four days instead of five. Rather, its central tenet is reducing the working week (usually to 32 hours), keeping workers’ salaries at 100%, and continuing productivity at 100% (at least) of its existing level.
Results from a pilot with 61 companies in the United Kingdom show an average increase of 36% per annum in revenue for participating businesses, with over 90% of UK businesses that have trialled the programme choosing to continue with it.
The four-day work week trial in Iceland has been heralded as a success. Canadastock/Shutterstock
More than a ‘nice-to-have’
But despite the need to improve productivity and the growing business case for improving employee wellbeing, demand for organisational mental health services has dipped.
Anecdotally, organisations involved in supporting the mental health of New Zealand workplaces have reported a decrease in demand, with many businesses and government agencies citing budget constraints as a major barrier to investing in this area.
To some, providing psychological support to workplaces may appear frivolous at worst, and a “nice-to-have” at best. Understanding the mechanisms by which these interventions can boost productivity may help dispel these doubts.
If we consider some of the core symptoms of poor mental health at work – namely exhaustion, reduced focus and greater sickness absence – it’s easy to see how improving workers’ mental health can improve the productivity of a business.
Maintaining workers
The idea of sustainable labour practices isn’t new or radical, nor is it just another attempt to load businesses with extra responsibility for worker mental health.
It is a way to enable people to work more efficiently in the time they have, and to keep them in their jobs for longer. In turn, this improves overall company performance and, crucially, improves population health.
For many businesses, people are their biggest asset. Ensuring your biggest asset is functioning well is as essential to enhancing productivity as regular maintenance and capital expenditure on physical machinery and buildings.
Like any business strategy worth its while, it’s not always easy. But there is too much at stake not to get it right.
Dougal Sutherland is an Honorary Teaching Fellow at Te Herenga Waka. He is also Principal Psychologist at Umbrella Wellbeing.
Dr Amanda Wallis from Umbrella Wellbeing contributed to this article
Palestine has strongly condemned Fiji’s decision to open a Fiji embassy in Jerusalem, calling it a violation of international law and relevant United Nations resolutions.
The Palestinian Foreign Ministry and the Hamas resistance group that governs the besieged enclave of Gaza issued separate statements, urging the Fiji government to reverse its decision.
According to the Palestinian Foreign Ministry, the Fijian decision is “an act of aggression against the Palestinian people and their inalienable rights”.
The Palestinian group Hamas said in a statement that the decision was “a blatant assault on the rights of our Palestinian people to their land and a clear violation of international law and UN resolutions, which recognise Jerusalem as occupied Palestinian territory”.
Fiji will become the seventh country to have an embassy in Jerusalem after the US, Guatemala, Honduras, Kosovo, Papua New Guinea, and Paraguay.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Jake Kotevski, PhD Candidate, School of Biological Sciences, Monash University and PhD Candidate, Museums Victoria Research Institute
The shinbone of a megaraptorid.Nadir Kinani/Museums Victoria
Between 122 and 108 million years ago, the Australian landmass was much farther south than today. Victoria was positioned within the Antarctic Circle, separated from Tasmania by a vast rift valley rather than open sea.
This was the Early Cretaceous, and lush forests filled with dinosaurs dominated the landscape. We still find traces of these animals in Victoria’s fossil record.
Most of the dinosaur fossils found in Victoria belong to small plant-eaters called ornithopods. But there are also a few theropod fossils — a diverse group that includes all known carnivorous dinosaurs, as well as modern birds.
More than 250 theropod bones have been found in the Victorian Cretaceous. In the palaeontology collections of Museums Victoria, we have now identified five theropod fossils of particular importance. Our work on these bones has been published today in the Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology.
Artist’s interpretation of the Cretaceous Bass Coast, 121.4 million years ago. From left to right: carcharodontosaur, unenlagiine and megaraptorid. Jonathan Metzger for Museums Victoria
Shinbones and tail bones
Research over the past decade has revealed striking similarities between Australian and South American dinosaurs. These include megaraptorids with claws shaped like scythes, and small, fleet-footed elasmarian ornithopods. There were also armoured parankylosaurians and colossal sauropods with long necks and small heads.
These parallels may seem surprising at first, but both continents retained a connection to Antarctica throughout much of the Cretaceous Period.
Our newly described fossils show that a bunch of different carnivorous dinosaurs seen in South America also thrived in the Cretaceous of southeastern Australia.
Two shinbones provide the first evidence of carcharodontosaurs (“shark-toothed lizards”) in Australia. A third shinbone provides strong evidence for the presence of unenlagiines, a southern group of dromaeosaurs (“running lizards”).
A fourth shinbone and two tail vertebrae with their chevrons, which are from a megaraptorid, represent one of Australia’s largest-known carnivorous dinosaurs.
A first for Australia
Carcharodontosaurs were apex predators in South America and Africa for much of the mid-Cretaceous. This group of theropods had large skulls, massive teeth and small arms. They were some of the largest predators to ever walk the Earth.
Despite their success in South America and Africa, carcharodontosaur fossils had never been found in Australia – until now. With the two shinbones, we now have the first evidence of the group on this continent.
Curiously, these Australian carcharodontosaurs are much smaller than their African and South American cousins, and the bones we have most closely resemble a carcharodontosaur from Thailand.
One of the Victorian carcharodontosaur shinbones was found on the Otway Coast. The other was found on the Bass Coast, in rocks nearly 10 million years older. This demonstrates these predators were successful in this area for at least 10 million years. It’s a notable find.
The large-bodied carcharodontosaurs of Africa and South America were seemingly specialised for hunting long-necked sauropods. However, this food source was likely not available to the Victorian polar carcharodontosaurs: sauropod fossils have never been found in Victoria.
A cliff face at Twin Reefs Bunurong Coastal Reserve, the area where some of the dinosaur fossils were found. John Broomfield/Museums Victoria
The Australian ‘raptors’
Unenlagiines were lightly built (and likely feathered) predatory dinosaurs, related to Velociraptor of Jurassic Park fame.
Most unenlagiine fossil remains have been found in South America. Historically, Australia had limited evidence for their presence, as well.
Our description of a new unenlagiine shinbone from Victoria provides robust evidence for their success in polar Australia during the Early Cretaceous.
The snouts of unenlagiines were relatively longer, and their arms relatively shorter than those of their dromaeosaur cousins from the Northern Hemisphere. This implies they had a rather different diet. The Victorian unenlagiine presumably ate fish or small land-dwelling animals. One possibility is the small mammals for which the Victorian Cretaceous is perhaps most famous – more than 50 mammal jaws have been found to date, and some are from ancient relatives of platypus and echidna.
Theropod shin bones from the Bass Coast. From left to right: unenlagiine, carcharodontosaur and megaraptorid. Nadir Kinani/Museums Victoria
The apex predators of Victoria
Large predatory dinosaurs – on the scale of Tyrannosaurus – are notably absent from the Australian fossil record. Instead, Australian dinosaur populations seem to have been dominated by medium-sized carnivores called megaraptorids.
Megaraptorid fossils are only known from South America and Australia. The most complete skeletons are from South America, including a relatively large one – roughly nine metres long. Australia’s only reasonably complete megaraptorid is Australovenator wintonensis from Winton, central Queensland.
The shinbone and tail vertebrae we describe provide evidence for a large megaraptorid in southeast Australia. Despite being almost 30 million years older than the roughly five- to six-metre-long Australovenator, the Bass Coast megaraptorid was at least 5% larger: approaching the size of its South American relatives.
The large, muscular arms and fingers tipped with fearsome scythe-like claws were presumably the primary weapons of megaraptorids. In contrast to almost every other group of medium-sized carnivorous dinosaurs, megaraptorids had elongated snouts with small teeth.
The abundance of ornithopods in Victoria presumably made this region more suited to smaller prey specialists like megaraptorids, rather than sauropod-stalking carcharodontosaurs.
Back row: two megaraptor fossils. Front row: the shinbone of a unenlagiine; two shinbones of carcharodontosaurs; the shinbone of a megaraptor. Nadir Kinani/Museums Victoria
More discoveries yet to come
We have much to learn about Australia’s Cretaceous dinosaurs. Our study shows how even five isolated and incomplete bones can improve our understanding of our continent’s fossil heritage.
Carcharodontosaurs might have been the apex predators in South America, but megaraptorids ruled the roost in the land down under.
The fantastic dinosaur fossil record of Victoria has grown over nearly 40 years thanks to the efforts of Dinosaur Dreaming, an ongoing volunteer palaeontology project, and citizen scientists like Melissa Lowery. Thanks to their efforts, our window into Victoria’s ancient past continues to become ever clearer.
Jake Kotevski receives funding from an Australian Government Research Training Stipend and Monash University – Museums Victoria scholarship.
Stephen Poropat received funding from the Winston Churchill Memorial Trust to observe fossil specimens relevant to this paper.
In 2022, humans generated roughly 62 million tonnes of electronic waste – or e-waste. That’s enough to fill more than 1.5 million garbage trucks. And by 2030, that figure is expected to rise to 82 million tonnes.
Australia is a huge contributor to this problem. Every year each Australian, on average, generates 20kg of e-waste, compared with the global average of 7kg per person.
Less than one quarter of the world’s e-waste – which includes desktop computers, laptops, mobile phones, televisions, kitchen appliances, batteries and solar panels – is recycled. That means most of it ends up in landfill, which can result in major accidents. For example, earlier this month, a rubbish truck in Melbourne caught fire after a laptop battery that had been thrown in the garbage bin exploded.
So what can be done to increase the amount of e-waste that’s recycled? And what actually happens during the e-waste recycling process?
From breakdown to planned obsolescence
The growing problem of e-waste is fuelled by both perceived and planned obsolescence.
Perceived obsolescence happens when we discard functioning products in favour of newer models. For example, we buy the latest iPhone even though our current phone works fine.
Planned obsolescence is when manufacturers “build in” a use-by date. One way they do this is by not offering software updates, which then renders an existing product incompatible with other, newer devices or presents cybersecurity risks.
Of course, sometimes existing electronic products simply stop working, which forces us to buy a replacement.
A multi-step process
In Australia, the process of recycling e-waste starts with consumers delivering their e-waste to a designated collection centre.
Some manufacturers offer trade-in programs where people can drop off their old phones and laptops at retail shops and get a small discount on a new product. Some councils also run services for periodic collection and offer drop-off centres for e-waste.
The collection is followed by sorting and inspection of the discarded items.
At this stage, the discarded electronic items are sorted based on the type of devices. Some devices can be refurbished and reused if they are still functional.
Those that cannot be refurbished are dismantled.
This involves separating the various components, such as circuit boards, batteries and wiring. Hazardous materials such as mercury and lead are removed, before recyclable and valuable materials are recovered. These include plastic and glass, as well as precious metals like gold and silver from the circuit boards.
After purifying and refining, the recycled materials can be used in new electronics or put to other uses.
According to the national waste report there are 535 facilities in Australia that accept e-waste. But only 20 facilities reprocess these for further recycling.
This means much of Australia’s e-waste is exported to China, India and other Asian countries to be recycled.
There are significant challenges when it comes to recycling e-waste.
Some are associated with consumer behaviour. For example, unlike kerbside recycling services for paper, glass and cardboard, recycling e-waste generally involves consumers making a special trip to a designated drop-off location. Accessing these locations involves extra effort and can be an inconvenience which deters people from recycling their e-waste.
Also, compared to container deposit schemes, where people get paid to recycle their glass bottles and cans, there are generally no monetary incentives available for recycling e-waste.
Concerns about data security also prevent some people from recycling their e-waste. People are often reluctant to recycle their computer, phones and other electronic items as they are worried their data could be stolen during the recycling process, even after they have deleted the files.
The other set of challenges with recycling e-waste comes from the economic incentives for recycling. Recycling e-waste is complex and costly. The costs involved in recycling can often be higher than the price of raw materials. Hazardous wastes must also be disposed safely, which adds extra costs to the process.
All of this makes it less attractive for businesses to recycle e-waste.
The framework seeks to double the rate at which Australia recovers, recycles and reuses materials by 2035, partly by providing direction and designing policies for businesses that encourage recycling.
It’s also important for local governments to make it easier for people to recycle their e-waste.
While it may not be cost effective for councils to have kerbside recycling for e- waste, they could place e-waste collection centres in local areas.
Councils can also explore offering consumers incentives for e-waste recycling. These incentives can be monetary. But even non-monetary incentives, such as letting people know how their recycled e-waste contributes to addressing the bigger problem, can be a motivation.
And finally, as consumers, it would help to remember that the best way to contribute to decreasing e-waste is to repair and reuse our existing products.
Sukhbir Sandhu has received funding from Australian Research Council, European Union, and Green Industries SA.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By David Rowe, Emeritus Professor of Cultural Research, Institute for Culture and Society, Western Sydney University
Lukas Coch/AAP, Shutterstock, X.com, The Conversation
As the next federal election came into view before the summer break, concern increased that Labor wouldn’t be honouring its commitment to introduce new restrictions on online (especially sport) gambling advertising during the current parliamentary sitting.
The Greens made a last-ditch attempt to cooperate with the government to pass some reforms in the February 2025 sitting, but were rebuffed.
Instead, Communications Minister Michelle Rowland blamed the delay on the complexity of advertising reform and the need to continue consultation.
This is despite a House of Representatives inquiry into the harmful impacts of online gambling, led by the late Labor MP Peta Murphy, concluding in June 2023.
There are both deep historical and immediate political reasons why this legislation has been bogged down.
A nation of sporting gamblers
Professional sport in Australia has an inglorious history of promoting unhealthy goods and services, including cigarettes, sugary drinks, fast food, alcohol and gambling.
Television and, later, online advertisements have been particularly effective vehicles for connecting sport gambling with potential consumers.
There is convincing evidence that Australia’s world-leading per capita expenditure on gambling and the integral role of sport gambling ads cause harm to a considerable number of people, families and communities.
Such harm includes negative effects on relationships, health, psychological wellbeing, finances, work and study.
The gamblification of sport
Although sport comes third among the main areas of gambling in Australia, it is by far the most prominent, especially in homes.
Sport and media’s enthusiasm for gambling money has provoked strong pushback over its negative social consequences, with mounting public pressure for greater controls on gambling advertising.
A recent poll found about 72% of those surveyed wanted to ban online gambling ads, while another of AFL fans reported 76% supported television and radio ad bans.
The response of and to the Murphy Report
The House of Representatives Standing Committee on Social Policy and Legal Affairs was charged with investigating online gambling and its impacts.
It made 31 recommendations, with rare cross-party support, in its “you win some, you lose more” report (which was not only about sport).
Contrary to most public debate and media reporting, it did not formally recommend a blanket ban on all gambling advertising. Its terms of reference only covered online gambling.
But Murphy’s foreword – calling for a “phased, comprehensive ban on all gambling advertising on all media; broadcast and online, that leaves no room for circumvention” – caught the most attention.
The main recommendation was for a three-year, four-phase ban on all forms of online gambling advertising. Dedicated racing channels and programming were exempted and small community radio broadcasters given extra time to comply.
After further consultation lasting almost 18 months, it’s clear this calibrated proposal is not favoured by the government.
Journalists were backgrounded about a watered down law capping ads for gambling at two per hour per TV channel before 10pm, and banning them for an hour either side of a live sport event. A blanket ban would apply only to betting ads on social media and other digital platforms.
Yet even these more modest reforms did not proceed as anticipated.
The reason, it has been widely reported, was heavy lobbying by the sport, media and gambling industries.
However, Australia’s major sports leagues derive significant gambling revenue from direct sources (sponsorship, product fees) and indirectly from the value of media rights.
The AFL and NRL generated cumulative revenues of $1.06 billion and $701 million respectively in 2023.
So while sport leagues would have less capacity to monetise their media rights if gambling ads were reduced, it would neither threaten professional sport in general nor seriously jeopardise funding of junior participation.
Follow the money
An Australian Communications and Media Authority report discovered capital city free-to-air television featured 1,381 gambling spots per day between May 2022 and April 2023.
Gambling companies spent $162 million on free-to-air television advertising during this period, not including further investment on subscription platforms.
As free-to-air commercial TV is already losing advertising income to digital media platforms, restrictions on this lucrative advertiser category would not be as easily absorbed today as the tobacco advertising bans in the 1970s.
This is why sports and their media and betting partners are fighting so hard against the legislation.
And all this capital flowing to and through sport, gambling, and media has created the potential to inflict political harm on gambling reforming governments.
Negotiations behind closed doors can easily break out into public campaigns, akin to the infamous “axe the (carbon) tax” agitation, if powerful organisations are not satisfied.
Gambling and the young voter
Sport gambling ads in Australia have especially targeted young men in a jocular larrikin style. But young women are now also being induced to gamble in greater numbers.
Those who want curbs on sport gambling advertisements have been cast by some as “wowsers” and “puritans”.
State intervention in the sport-media-gambling nexus may provoke a backlash that working-class men are under attack for engaging in their favourite pastimes.
Like the latest reforms to sport TV anti-siphoning laws, new policies are the product of high-stakes horse trading between nervous governments and pressure groups with manifestly variable degrees of influence.
David Rowe has received funding from the Australian Research Council to support research relating to this article: Struggling for Possession: The Control and Use of Online Media Sport (with Brett Hutchins, DP0877777); ‘A Nation of “Good Sports”? Cultural Citizenship and Sport in Contemporary Australia’ (DP130104502), and ‘Australian Cultural Fields: National and Transnational Dynamics’ (with Tony Bennett et al, DP140101970).
Hunter Fujak 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 Chris Wallace, Professor, School of Politics Economics & Society, Faculty of Business Government & Law, University of Canberra
Tasmanian Senator Jacqui Lambie represents the lowest-income Australians, with median weekly earnings of $1,208 a week. In the Australian Capital Territory, where the nation’s highest median weekly earners live, including the brains trust of the Australian Public Service, it’s $1,688 a week – 40% higher.
As a federal politician, Lambie shuttles between these two starkly different earnings worlds and is not happy about the disparity.
Of course, Lambie herself is on a reasonable wicket. Parliamentarians’ base salaries are $233,660 a year, according to an Instagram post she made this month drawing attention to the issue.
At a time of considerable financial stress for Australians hit by the combination of inflation, high interest rates and housing shortages, Lambie struck a nerve with her post, which listed a range of public roles drawing big six figure-plus annual salaries.
In doing so, Lambie underlined the far higher salaries paid to senior public servants compared to the ministers to whom they’re responsible.
Department of Prime Minister and Cabinet Secretary Glyn Davis earns $1,011,410 a year, 66% more than the man he serves, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, who earns $607,516.
Treasury Secretary Steven Kennedy’s salary is more than double that of Treasurer Jim Chalmers, who is paid $438,112. Another three departmental secretaries each earn $960,840.
Lambie’s Instagram post drew hundreds of comments including:
How does a public servant earn more than the prime minister? That’s wrong!!
Politicians get flak about their salaries from belligerent constituents, but also keenly feel the injustice of earning far less than senior public servants.
Higher pay for higher risk
The salaries of both politicians and public servants have long and specific histories. Without an income, only the rich could afford to be politicians, so publicly paid allowances and salaries have historically been an important equity and inclusion measure. They remain so today.
The original framers of the public service component of our Westminster system of government believed that to prevent conflicts of interest that drive corruption, the bureaucracy ought to be staffed by “permanent officers” with job security. In exchange for what, barring wrongdoing, was going to be a lifetime career, public service pay was historically adequate but not extravagant.
This nexus was broken when, in exchange for higher pay, the Keating government introduced five-year contracts for departmental secretaries in March 1994. Three departmental secretaries refused contracts and continued as “permanent officers”. The rest took the money and the increased employment risk that went with it.
Two years later, the Keating government lost office and incoming Prime Minister John Howard summarily fired nearly a third of departmental secretaries, fatally eroding the “frank and fearless” tradition of public service advice underpinned by security of employment.
Compromised advice
Contract employment for secretaries, who effectively can now be fired at will, not only created pressure for public servants to tell ministers what they wanted to hear, but also untethered their salaries from historical norms. Higher pay reflected that insecurity. The flow-on effect meant other salaries in the senior executive service also floated upwards.
Contracts for secretaries have also been central to the revolving door that’s developed between the top of the public service and large consulting firms, creating conflicts of interest unknown in the traditional Westminster public service.
The big four consulting firms are attractive alternative employers for highly paid and insecure departmental secretaries.
Little wonder, then, that a quasi-privatisation of public service advice through consultancy contracts to those firms occurred, at vast expense to taxpayers – something Finance Minister Katy Gallagher has made strong efforts to reverse.
Lambie’s push for answers
Lambie has introduced the Remuneration Tribunal Amendment (There for the Public Service, Not Profit) Bill 2025 to cap senior APS pay at $430,000. It’s a bid to address remuneration which has raced far beyond ministerial salaries, and well beyond reasonable public expectations.
The Lambie bill has been referred to a Senate committee, which presents an opportunity to evolve debate on the deeper reasons for what has gone awry in the public service and to devise a response that gets to the root of the problem.
The precarity of contract employment for departmental secretaries, which is used to justify high salaries, is both unnecessary and harmful to the quality of public policy and administration in Australia.
The intrinsic interest and challenge of working for the nation and the betterment of its citizens has always paid well in terms of a “psychic wage” on top of senior public servants’ actual salaries. If the complaint is that an executive could make much more in the private sector, they’re probably not the right person to work in the public service anyway.
One reply to Lambie’s Insta post summed up the situation:
It’s the pollies that made this mess.
Politicians are the ones who are going to have to clean it up.
It is neither likely nor plausible that highly paid public service leaders will cut their own salaries in return for an end to the five year contract system for secretaries.
But that is what a return to good public service governance – and to frank and fearless advice in the national interest – now requires.
Chris Wallace has received funding from the Australian Research Council.
More people are turning to generative artificial intelligence (AI) to help them in their daily and professional lives. ChatGPT is one of the most well-known and widely available generative AI tools. It gives tailored, plausible answers to any question for free.
There is so much potential for generative AI tools to help people learn about their health. But the answers are not always correct. Relying solely on ChatGPT for health advice can be risky and cause unnecessary concern.
Generative AI is still a relatively new technology, and is constantly changing. Our new study provides the first Australian data about who is using ChatGPT to answer health questions, for what purposes.
The results can help tell people how to use this new technology for their health, and the new skills needed to use it safely – in other words, to build “AI health literacy”.
Who uses ChatGPT for health? What do they ask?
In June 2024 we asked a nationally representative sample of more than 2,000 Australians if they had used ChatGPT to answer health questions.
One in ten (9.9%) had asked ChatGPT a health question in the first half of 2024.
On average they reported that they “somewhat” trusted ChatGPT (3.1 out of 5).
We also found the proportion of people using ChatGPT for health was higher for people who had low health literacy, were born in a non-English speaking country, or spoke another language at home.
This suggests ChatGPT may be supporting people who find it hard to engage with traditional forms of health information in Australia.
One in ten Australians asked ChatGPT a health question in the first half of last year. Kampus Productions/Pexels
The most common questions that people asked ChatGPT related to:
learning about a health condition (48%)
finding out what symptoms mean (37%)
asking about actions (36%)
or understanding medical terms (35%).
More than half (61%) had asked at least one question that would usually require clinical advice. We classified these questions as “riskier”. Asking ChatGPT what your symptoms mean can give you a rough idea, but cannot substitute clinical advice.
People who were born in a non-English speaking country or who spoke another language at home were more likely to ask these types of questions.
Why does this matter?
The number of people using generative AI for health information is likely to grow. In our study, 39% of people who had not yet used ChatGPT for health would consider doing so in the next six months.
The overall number of people using generative AI tools for health information is even higher if we consider other tools such as Google Gemini, Microsoft Copilot, and Meta AI.
Notably, in our study we saw that people from culturally and linguistically diverse communities may be more likely to use ChatGPT for health information.
If they were asking ChatGPT to translate health information, this adds another layer of complexity. Generative AI tools are generally less accurate in other languages.
We need investment in services (whether human or machine) to ensure speaking another language is not a barrier to high quality health information.
What does ‘AI health literacy’ look like?
Generative AI is here to stay, presenting both opportunities and risks to people who use it for health information.
On the one hand, this technology appeals to people who already face significant barriers accessing health care and health information. One of its key benefits is its ability to instantly provide health information that is easy to understand.
A recent review of studies showed generative AI tools are increasingly capable of answering general health questions using plain language, although they were less accurate for complex health topics.
On the other hand, people are turning to general-purpose AI tools for health advice. This is riskier for questions that require clinical judgment and a broader understanding of the patient.
There have already been case studies showing the dangers of using general purpose AI tools to decide whether to go to hospital or not.
Where else can you go for this information?
We need to help people think carefully about the kinds of questions they’re asking AI tools, and connect them with appropriate services that can answer these riskier questions.
Organisations such as HealthDirect provide a national free helpline where you can speak with a registered nurse about whether to go to hospital or see a doctor. HealthDirect also provides an online SymptomChecker tool to help you figure out your next steps.
While many Australian health agencies are developing AI policies, most are focused on how health services and staff engage with this technology.
We urgently need to equip our community with AI health literacy skills. This need will grow as more people use AI tools for health, and it will also change as the AI tools evolve.
Julie Ayre receives funding from the National Health and Medical Research Council (APP2017278). The Health Literacy Editor is a research tool owned by the University of Sydney. It is sublicensed to Health Literacy Solutions PTY Ltd to enable wider public use. Julie Ayre (study author) is a co-director of Health Literacy Solutions PTY Ltd. She takes no personal income from Health Literacy Solutions PTY Ltd or the Health Literacy Editor.
Kirsten McCaffery receives funding from the National Health and Medical Research Council (APP2016719). The Health Literacy Editor is a research tool owned by the University of Sydney. It is sub-licensed to Health Literacy Solutions PTY Ltd to enable wider public use. Kirsten McCaffery is a co-director of Health Literacy Solutions PTY Ltd. She takes no personal income from Health Literacy Solutions PTY Ltd or the Health Literacy Editor.
Erin Cvejic 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 goal of science is to uncover truths and create new knowledge. But this is not always welcome. Increasingly, scientific findings are being attacked or downplayed. And scientists themselves face intimidation or harassment.
In our global study of more than 2,000 scientists across six areas of science, two-fifths (41%) of respondents had, as a result of their work, been harassed or intimidated at least once over a five-year period.
Intimidation efforts included online abuse, physical threats, and threats to budgets or employment. Harassment, while personal, could be meted out by superiors, colleagues or outsiders. Some scientists felt their leaders had thrown them under the bus to protect the institution’s reputation.
Who’s doing the intimidation? Strikingly, a majority of cases of intimidation and harassment actually came from inside the institution for most fields. That is, it was perpetrated by senior colleagues or managers. But for climate scientists, most intimidation efforts came from outside.
Intimidation of scientists doesn’t happen in a vacuum. In recent years, there has been a rise in populist leaders who pour scorn on “elites” and evidence. Scientific issues are increasingly politicised. Disinformation is rampant. This atmosphere adds to the pressure faced by scientists, especially those working in politically sensitive areas such as climate science or COVID.
We used an online database of scientists to find and contact experts publishing in six fields: climate science, medical health, humanities and social science, food and plant science, astronomy, and other STEM areas.
More than 2,000 responded to our survey on whether they had experienced various types of intimidation or harassment. We asked respondents for more detail on the perpetrators, what triggered the incident, and what effect it had on them.
Many respondents had a clear view as to what the intimidation or harassment was meant to do. The motivations of perpetrators varied greatly. But the most common reasons were to damage their reputation, to stop them from publishing certain types of research, or to “put me in my place”.
Specific fields of science were more prone to harassment and intimidation – in particular climate science, and humanities and social science.
Among those scientists who had been intimidated, climate scientists reported online abuse three times more often than astronomers. Climate science is politically charged, because climate change is clearly linked to pollution from some of the world’s largest industries – oil, gas and coal. Astronomy is not. Half of the climate scientist respondents experiencing intimidation saw the bad behaviour as a way to discourage them from undertaking specific research and speaking about it.
Researchers from humanities and social sciences faced similar levels of online abuse to climate scientists.
When it came to personal harassment, there was a clear gender dimension. Among those who reported experiencing harassment, female scientists were more than four times more likely to report “unwelcome or inappropriate behaviour of a sexual nature” than their male counterparts. Women were affected almost twice as much as men by non-sexual forms of personal harassment.
Our findings follow earlier research finding similar rates of intimidation. For instance, a 2021 survey of 321 scientists working on COVID-19 found 15% had received death threats and 22% received threats of sexual violence.
Intimidation and harassment are damaging
The consequences of intimidation are profound and far-reaching. Many scientists told us the experience had caused lasting damage, whether to wellbeing, career prospects or research activities.
More than 40% of those affected said their career prospects had worsened following incidents of harassment. Just over a third (34%) reported a decline in their desire to work in science. Scientists who experienced intimidation often cut back their collaboration with colleagues (35%), leaving them more isolated.
Many of our respondents described flow-on effects such as decreased access to funding (35% of respondents) and less public communication from their institution about their work (23%).
Scientists targeted with multiple types of harassment reported very damaging effects, from difficulty finding their next job to poor mental health.
Intimidation slows progress
Intimidation and harassment have a chilling effect on science. This, in turn, could hinder progress on crucial issues such as climate change, public health and technological advancements.
The disproportionate impact on women and researchers in politically sensitive fields threatens to undermine diversity and inclusivity in science.
Without targeted interventions, women in science may continue to suffer disproportionate levels of harassment and intimidation. This will have long-term implications for gender diversity in scientific leadership and the direction of research in various fields.
In the United States, the Trump administration’s withdrawals from the Paris climate agreement and the World Health Organization are likely to further embolden anti-science movements. Many American scientific institutions are engaged inanticipatory obedience of the Trump administration’s demands that diversity and anti-discrimination programs be abolished, or climate change stop being mentioned. Many even go beyond what is explicitly sought.
Science and academia is often seen as a bastion of free inquiry and open discussion. One of our most surprising findings was how common intimidation was within scientific institutions.
The key to beating intimidation is organisational support and clear strategies, not obedience. These include:
genuine commitment to institutional policies protecting scientists from both internal and external intimidation
formal, well-resourced support systems for researchers facing harassment or pressure (not the HR office)
programs to increase public understanding of the scientific process to build trust and resilience to misinformation
boosting international collaboration between scientists and policymakers to ensure resilience against country-specific efforts to undermine science
educating the public on the importance of scientific independence and of fostering respectful dialogue around contentious topics.
As populist movements gain traction in many countries, scientists working on controversial issues will face heightened scrutiny – and potentially more intimidation.
Climate science is likely to remain a particularly contested field. As the damage wrought by climate change becomes more and more apparent, it will get even more contentious.
Over the last few centuries, science has produced breakthroughs in many areas. But the integrity of science is not guaranteed. Harassment and intimidation from both inside and outside institutions has a very real effect on scientists.
The future of evidence-based decision-making and ability to tackle global challenges depends on fostering an environment where scientists can work free from fear and undue pressure.
Robert Hale receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
David Peetz undertook research over many years with occasional financial support from governments from both sides of politics, employers and unions. He has been and is involved in several Australian Research Council-funded projects, including this one.
Ian Lowe was president of the Australian Conservation Foundation from 2004 to 2014.
Carolyn Troup and Georgina Murray 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.
This week, updated figures once again showed an increasing number of Australian families are choosing to send their children to private schools.
Just over 63% of Australian students are enrolled in government schools. Almost 20% are in Catholic schools and almost 17% go to independent schools, according to Australian Bureau of Statistics.
How much is it costing parents?
While headlines often focus on the most expensive schools, there is a huge range of private schools operating in Australia.
In our new analysis, which is not peer-reviewed, we looked at private school fees in New South Wales and Victoria (the two most populous states).
We looked only at independent schools. The non-government school sector is made up of Catholic and independent schools, but Catholic private schools typically charge lower fees and this can skew the data on the sector.
The tuition fees we refer to are based on what is publicly available through each school’s website.
We collected all available data for Year 12 tuition fees in every independent school in NSW and Victoria in 2021 and 2024. We chose to focus on Year 12, as this is typically the most expensive year at school.
In NSW, we found fee information for 369 schools (77% of independent schools).
In Victoria we found fee information for 138 schools (92% of independent schools).
Private school fees don’t necessarily include other expenses such as music or sport. DGLimages/Shutterstock
In 2024, the average tuition fee for a Year 12 student in NSW was A$15,674 and in Victoria it was $20,923.
This is in keeping with other analyses showing Victoria is the most expensive state for school fees in Australia.
These figures suggest while many schools are far from the headlines of “$50,000 fees”, many families are still paying substantial amounts for a private education – particularly if they have more than one child.
However, there were significant variations in tuition fees between schools. In NSW, 12% of schools in our sample charged under $5,000 per year per student. In Victoria, 9% charged less than $5,000.
One alternative school in NSW charged just $100 per student per year. This is less than parents typically pay out of their own pocket at the average public school.
This shows us there some cheaper options available, depending on where families live although they are certainly not the majority.
At the other end of the sample, The Scots College in NSW and Geelong Grammar School in Victoria charged the highest tuition fees in their respective states for 2024. Geelong Grammar charged $49,720 for Year 12; Scots charged $46,920.
There are other costs
While we only looked at tuition fees, families might also have to pay levies for infrastructure or technology.
There are also extra charges for activities such as camps, excursions and incursions, as well as fees for uniforms, school buses, and special subjects such as music and sport.
For the majority of independent schools, parents are asked to pay to enrol or go on the waiting list. The average application fee in Victoria was $156 and in NSW was $197. These fees widely differed between schools, ranging from zero to $650.
Our analysis found in Victoria, tuition fees in independent schools increased by an average of 15% from 2021 to 2024 – roughly 3.75% each year. In NSW, fees increased by 13% from 2021 to 2024, or about 3.25% per year.
In media coverage, individual schools have blamed fee increases on inflation, “operational costs”, rising staff costs, and a drop in federal funding.
Will fees keep rising?
In some OECD countries, if private schools receive government funding, there are conditions placed on what they can charge for tuition.
This is not the case in Australia, where the system is unregulated and uncapped.
Unless this policy approach changes, we can expect private schools to keep increasing fees, as long as there are families willing and able to pay them.
Emma Rowe receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
Diana Langmead 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.