At the end of 2020, there was a strong hope that high levels of vaccination would see humanity finally gain the upper hand over SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19. In an ideal scenario, the virus would then be contained at very low levels without further societal disruption or significant numbers of deaths.
But since then, new “variants of concern” have emerged and spread worldwide, putting current pandemic control efforts, including vaccination, at risk of being derailed.
Put simply, the game has changed, and a successful global rollout of current vaccines by itself is no longer a guarantee of victory.
No one is truly safe from COVID-19 until everyone is safe. We are in a race against time to get global transmission rates low enough to prevent the emergence and spread of new variants. The danger is that variants will arise that can overcome the immunity conferred by vaccinations or prior infection.
What’s more, many countries lack the capacity to track emerging variants via genomic surveillance. This means the situation may be even more serious than it appears.
As members of the Lancet COVID-19 Commission Taskforce on Public Health, we call for urgent action in response to the new variants. These new variants mean we cannot rely on the vaccines alone to provide protection but must maintain strong public health measures to reduce the risk from these variants. At the same time, we need to accelerate the vaccine program in all countries in an equitable way.
Together, these strategies will deliver “maximum suppression” of the virus.
What are ‘variants of concern’?
Genetic mutations of viruses like SARS-CoV-2 emerge frequently, but some variants are labelled “variants of concern”, because they can reinfect people who have had a previous infection or vaccination, or are more transmissible or can lead to more severe disease.
There are currently at least three documented SARS-CoV-2 variants of concern:
B.1.351, first reported in South Africa in December 2020
B.1.1.7, first reported in the United Kingdom in December 2020
P.1, first identified in Japan among travellers from Brazil in January 2021.
Similar mutations are arising in different countries simultaneously, meaning not even border controls and high vaccination rates can necessarily protect countries from home-grown variants, including variants of concern, where there is substantial community transmission.
If there are high transmission levels, and hence extensive replication of SARS-CoV-2, anywhere in the world, more variants of concern will inevitably arise and the more infectious variants will dominate. With international mobility, these variants will spread.
Brazil has vaccinated millions of people, but is also the birthplace of one of the main current variants of concern.Eraldo Peres/AP
South Africa’s experience suggests that past infection with SARS-CoV-2 offers only partial protection against the B.1.351 variant, and it is about 50% more transmissible than pre-existing variants. The B.1.351 variant has already been detected in at least 48 countries as of March 2021.
The impact of the new variants on the effectiveness of vaccines is still not clear. Recent real-world evidence from the UK suggests both the Pfizer and AstraZeneca vaccines provide significant protection against severe disease and hospitalisations from the B.1.1.7 variant.
On the other hand, the B.1.351 variant seems to reduce the efficacy of the AstraZeneca vaccine against mild to moderate illness. We do not yet have clear evidence on whether it also reduces effectiveness against severe disease.
For these reasons, reducing community transmission is vital. No single action is sufficient to prevent the virus’s spread; we must maintain strong public health measures in tandem with vaccination programs in every country.
Why we need maximum suppression
Each time the virus replicates, there is an opportunity for a mutation to occur. And as we are already seeing around the world, some of the resulting variants risk eroding the effectiveness of vaccines.
That’s why we have called for a global strategy of “maximum suppression”.
Public health leaders should focus on efforts that maximally suppress viral infection rates, thus helping to prevent the emergence of mutations that can become new variants of concern.
Prompt vaccine rollouts alone will not be enough to achieve this; continued public health measures, such as face masks and physical distancing, will be vital too. Ventilation of indoor spaces is important, some of which is under people’s control, some of which will require adjustments to buildings.
Fair access to vaccines
Global equity in vaccine access is vital too. High-income countries should support multilateral mechanisms such as the COVAX facility, donate excess vaccines to low- and middle- income countries, and support increased vaccine production.
However, to prevent the emergence of viral variants of concern, it may be necessary to prioritise countries or regions with the highest disease prevalence and transmission levels, where the risk of such variants emerging is greatest.
Those with control over health-care resources, services and systems should ensure support is available for health professionals to manage increased hospitalisations over shorter periods during surges without reducing care for non-COVID-19 patients.
Health systems must be better prepared against future variants. Suppression efforts should be accompanied by:
genomic surveillance programs to identify and quickly characterise emerging variants in as many countries as possible around the world
rapid large-scale “second-generation” vaccine programs and increased production capacity that can support equity in vaccine distribution
studies of vaccine effectiveness on existing and new variants of concern
adapting public health measures (such as double masking) and re-committing to health system arrangements (such as ensuring personal protective equipment for health staff)
behavioural, environmental, social and systems interventions, such as enabling ventilation, distancing between people, and an effective find, test, trace, isolate and support system.
COVID-19 variants of concern have changed the game. We need to recognise and act on this if we as a global society are to avoid future waves of infections, yet more lockdowns and restrictions, and avoidable illness and death.
The grisly discovery in February of a disembodied foot on a New South Wales beach was a tragic twist in the mystery of missing Sydney woman Melissa Caddick.
DNA testing has shown the remains belong to Caddick, who vanished from her Dover Heights home in November 2020 after allegedly stealing more than A$25 million from investors. Corporate regulator ASIC last week withdrew charges against her and will pursue a civil case. In the meantime, broader questions about her fate remain.
Did Caddick take her own life from the cliffs near her home? How did her remains wash up on a remote beach 400 kilometres away? And why was her foot, still clad in a running shoe, the only trace found after more than three months?
We are oceanographers, and cannot speculate about what happened in Caddick’s final hours. However, our experience shows how tragedy – and sometimes luck – can reveal hidden ocean highways that connect every part of the planet.
The cliffs at Dover Heights, near where Melissa Caddick was last seen.Shutterstock
What is an ocean current?
Ocean currents are found at both the ocean’s surface and in deep water. They are driven by a combination of wind, tides, water density differences and Earth’s rotation. Currents move water horizontally and vertically and occur on both local and global scales.
Monitoring currents is important for understanding how floating objects, marine life, pollutants, and nutrients travel through the ocean. It can also help determine the most efficient shipping routes.
And, as climate change worsens, tracking currents can tell us how heat energy in the ocean is moving around the planet.
It’s important for scientists to understand ocean currents.Shutterstock
The fickle sea
Ocean currents are unpredictable. When someone falls into the water, by accident or otherwise, it can be hard to predict where the current will take them.
This is illustrated by an experiment which, by coincidence, we conducted along the same stretch of coast around the time Caddick is thought to have entered the water. Our research group deployed several satellite-tracked floating buoys, or drifters, off Port Stephens, about 150km north of Sydney. We wanted to study the effects of currents, wind and waves on objects drifting on the ocean surface.
On November 10 – the day before Caddick was last seen alive – we deployed two biodegradable drifters about 40km offshore. We released a third drifter on December 2, in the same patch of ocean.
We then tracked the drifters’ positions until they beached more than a month later – and discovered they took very different paths. One drifter was carried as far as Jervis Bay, 250km southwest. The second travelled 180km southwest to Wollongong. And the third drifter moved north, eventually washing up in Worimi National Park near Newcastle, not far from where it was deployed.
So it’s certainly possible a buoyant object such as a shoe could float several hundred kilometres over several months. And as our experiment shows, it’s hard to predict where it will end up.
Authors supplied, Author provided
The tale of Moby-Duck
Drifting buoys are a rough approximation of a detached foot in a running shoe – often the most buoyant and well-preserved part of a decomposing body.
In one well-publicised case, 21 feet – mostly in running shoes – washed up over a decade on the coasts of British Columbia, in Canada, and the neighbouring US state of Washington. A 2017 inquest ruled out foul play, noting the most likely cause of death in each case was suicide or accident.
Thankfully, drifting objects are not always so gruesome. Bottles (containing messages), adrift sailors, and even thousands of unopened packets of Doritos have washed ashore, sometimes after years at sea.
Another famous incident happened in 1992, when a cargo ship in the North Pacific lost a container holding 28,800 yellow rubber ducks and other bath toys. As the map below shows, the colourful toys made their way around the world.
The story, recounted by journalist Donovan Hohn in his book Moby-Duck, has a dark side. The toys form part of an endless river of plastic that flows into our oceans, collecting in giant floating “garbage patches” where currents and winds converge. Much of this plastic persists for decades, making its way into the food chain and ultimately the stomachs of birds, fish, and mammals.
Map showing path taken by floating bath toys.Wikimedia
A surprising ocean odyssey
Our experiment demonstrates another feature of the ocean off Australia’s east coast: the gradual southward drift known as the East Australian Current. The EAC, as it is fondly known, brings warm, tropical water southwards along the coast of Queensland and NSW into the Tasman Sea.
Despite its reputation as a swift, smoothly flowing river of seawater – as depicted in the movie Finding Nemo – the EAC is actually highly variable. It meanders, loops, and sometimes pinches off to form swirling vortices called eddies, hundreds of kilometres across. At times it can flow northwards, or move well offshore. This video shows how variable the EAC can be:
Eastern Australian current over 22 years, sea surface temperature (SST) vs sea level anomaly (SLA).
The combination of current, winds and waves can carry floating debris on surprising voyages. In one recent example, a surfboard lost off the south coast of Tasmania spent nearly two years at sea before being recovered, encrusted with barnacles, by fishermen 2,700km away in northern Queensland.
The surfboard’s journey northward is puzzling because the EAC generally flows in the opposite direction. One theory is the surfboard went “the long way” around New Zealand before drifting back towards Queensland. Alternatively, it could have been carried by winds and waves, which often blow from the south in this region. It could even have been passed from one ocean eddy to another in a sort of oceanic game of pass-the-parcel.
The fishermen were eventually able to reunite the surfboard with its grateful owner after cleaning off the barnacles. That’s slightly unfortunate, because those barnacles were a kind of biological message-in-a-bottle. Analysis of the different species on the board might have enabled scientists to retrace the surfboard’s ocean odyssey.
For now, that too remains a mystery.
If you are having suicidal thoughts, call Lifeline at 13 11 14. If you are worried about a loved one or have lost someone to suicide, find support and information at Beyond Blue.
Methane — a greenhouse gas far more potent than carbon dioxide — plays a major role in controlling the Earth’s climate. But methane concentrations in the atmosphere today are 150% higher than before the industrial revolution.
In our paper published today in Nature Geoscience, we show as much as half of global methane emissions come from aquatic ecosystems. This includes natural, human-created and human-impacted aquatic ecosystems — from flooded rice paddies and aquaculture ponds to wetlands, lakes and salt marshes.
Our findings are significant. Scientists had previously underestimated this global methane contribution due to underaccounting human-created and human-impacted aquatic ecosystems.
It’s critical we use this new information to stop rising methane concentrations derailing our attempts to stabilise the Earth’s temperature.
From underwater sediment to the atmosphere
Most of the methane emitted from aquatic ecosystems is produced by micro-organisms living in deep, oxygen-free sediments. These tiny organisms break down organic matter such as dead algae in a process called “methanogenesis”.
Rice farming releases more methane per year than the entire open ocean.Shutterstock
This releases methane to the water, where some is consumed by other types of micro-organisms. Some of it also reaches the atmosphere.
Natural systems have always released methane (known as “background” methane). And freshwater ecosystems, such as lakes and wetlands, naturally release more methane than coastal and ocean environments.
Human-made or human-impacted aquatic ecosystems, on the other hand, increase the amount of organic matter available to produce methane, which causes emissions to rise.
Between 2000 and 2006, global methane emissions stabilised, and scientists are still unsure why. Emissions began steadily rising again in 2007.
There’s active debate in the scientific community about how much of the renewed increase is caused by emissions or by a decline of “methane sinks” (when methane is eliminated, such as from bacteria in soil, or from chemical reactions in the atmosphere).
We looked at inland, coastal and oceanic ecosystems around the world. While we cannot resolve the debate about what causes the renewed increase of atmospheric methane, we found the combined emissions of natural, impacted and human-made aquatic ecosystems are highly variable, but may contribute 41% to 53% of total methane emissions globally.
In fact, these combined emissions are a larger source of methane than direct anthropogenic methane sources, such as cows, landfill and waste, and coal mining. This knowledge is important because it can help inform new monitoring and measurements to distinguish where and how methane emissions are produced.
Water is a big part of much of our landscape, from mountain rivers to the coastal ocean. This aerial image shows Himalaya rivers, wetlands, lakes and ponds, and the world’s largest mangrove forest (the Sundarbans) at the coast of the tropical Bay of Bengal.George Allen, Author provided
The alarming human impact
There is an increasing pressure from humans on aquatic ecosystems. This includes increased nutrients (like fertilisers) getting dumped into rivers and lakes, and farm dam building as the climate dries in many places.
In general, we found methane emissions from impacted, polluted and human-made aquatic ecosystems are higher than from more natural sites.
For example, fertiliser runoff from agriculture creates nutrient-rich lakes and reservoirs, which releases more methane than nutrient-poor (oligotrophic) lakes and reservoirs. Similarly, rivers polluted with nutrients also have increased methane emissions.
Coastal aquaculture farms emit up to 430 times more methane per area than coastal habitats.Shutterstock
What’s particularly alarming is the strong methane release from rice cultivation, reservoirs and aquaculture farms.
Globally, rice cultivation releases more methane per year than all coastal wetlands, the continental shelf and open ocean together.
The fluxes in methane emissions per area of coastal aquaculture farms are 7-430 times higher than from coastal habitats such as mangrove forests, salt marshes or seagrasses. And highly disturbed mangroves and salt marsh sites have significantly higher methane fluxes than more natural sites.
So how do we reduce methane emissions?
For aquatic ecosystems, we can effectively reduce methane emissions and help mitigate climate change with the right land use and management choices.
For example, managing aquaculture farms and rice paddies so they alternate between wet and dry conditions can reduce methane emissions.
Restoring salt marsh and mangrove habitats and the flow of seawater from tides is another promising strategy to further reduce methane emissions from degraded coastal wetlands.
We should also reduce the amount of nutrients coming from fertilisers washing into freshwater wetlands, lakes, reservoirs and rivers as it leads to organic matter production, such as toxic algal blooms. This will help curtail methane emissions from inland waters.
These actions will be most effective if we apply them in the aquatic ecosystems that have the greatest contribution of aquatic methane: freshwater wetlands, lakes, reservoirs, rice paddies and aquaculture farms.
This will be no small effort, and will require knowledge across many disciplines. But with the right choices we can create conditions that bring methane fluxes down while also preserving ecosystems and biodiversity.
Many cities in Australia and around the world have recently made or proposed investments in new light rail systems. They often do so in the belief this will not only increase public transport use, but also lead urban renewal and improve a city’s global image. However, compared to light rail, my research shows a system of buses running along dedicated corridors, known as bus rapid transit, has many advantages for Adelaide (the focus of my research) and cities like it.
The advantages include:
a bus rapid transit system is cheaper to construct and run
it takes less time to introduce with less disruption
being able to leave designated lanes offers greater flexibility to pick up passengers where and when needed.
In contrast, retrofitting light rail onto arterial roads has proven expensive, slow and highly disruptive. For example, 12.5km of arterial-based light rail in Sydney cost over A$150 million per kilometre and took more than five years to complete. Given these inherent problems, Australian cities such as Adelaide with new light rail systems on the drawing board should first take another look at bus rapid transit.
Australian cities face hurdles to public transport use
Most Australian state and territory governments have similar transport-related goals. These include to become more environmentally sustainable and reduce traffic congestion, which saps productivity. They typically aim to achieve these goals by increasing public transport use at the expense of cars.
Globally, affluent cities with high levels of public transport use have comprehensive public transport networks. These systems allow people to travel from one place to another anywhere in the city quickly, cheaply and conveniently with minimal interchanges.
In contrast, Australian cities are car-oriented. Their radial “hub and spoke” public transport systems primarily allow people to get to central business districts and occasionally major regional centres quickly, cheaply and conveniently. They struggle to do so for suburb-to-suburb trips.
In Australian cities, 75-90% of jobs and commerce are located in their suburbs. This means the structure of public transport is a major challenge for increasing patronage at the expense of cars. But what if existing arterial roads can be converted for use by rapid bus transit?
Adelaide: a case study
My research looked at the alternative of bus rapid transit along a corridor in metropolitan Adelaide where a new light rail track is proposed. From the CBD, this corridor runs about 7km east to the hills and 9km west to the sea. As an indication of the likely cost, a 1km extension along North Terrace of an existing line cost more than $A120 million in 2018.
The area within 3km of the corridor contains around 40% of metropolitan Adelaide’s jobs, major recreation and shopping facilities, most of its universities, and the airport. Buses running in often highly congested and slow traffic provide the only public transport in the area. As a result, public transport use is very low compared to similar areas in other Australian cities.
Bus rapid transit services run along designated lanes down the centre of arterial roads, as would an arterial-based light rail.
Like Adelaide’s existing tram lines, a bus rapid transit service would run along the middle of existing arterial roads.Morgan Sette/AAP
Stops are spaced at similar intervals to light rail and resemble stations rather than a typical bus stop. Such systems are in place around the globe, one of the most famous being in Curitiba, Brazil.
The advantages of buses add up
The great advantage a bus-based system has over light rail is cost. They can run along existing roads and don’t need expensive tracks and overhead wires.
Buses do have some disadvantages compared to light rail. For a start, when diesel buses are used, they cause significant noise and air pollution. Using electric buses can overcome these problems.
Using electric buses overcomes the problems of noise and air pollution.Shutterstock
In addition, individual vehicles normally carry fewer passengers than light rail. However, my research shows low passenger capacity per vehicle is an advantage in low-density suburban areas, such as those along the proposed corridor in Adelaide. That’s because it means the buses have to run more often, making the service more regular, convenient and reliable.
Another advantage over light rail is that in low-density areas, vehicles can leave designated lanes and venture for 2-4km into suburbs to pick up and drop off passengers. This vastly expands the number of households in the system’s catchment and means passengers can get to their destinations with no interchange or just one.
Finally, the inner and middle suburbs of Adelaide, where most residents live and work, have many wide straight roads suitable for bus rapid transit services. It would be possible to develop around 100km of BRT lanes connecting existing light rail, heavy rail and busway infrastructure. I estimate a comprehensive network could be built for well under a billion dollars in a few years.
A similarly sized light rail network would cost tens of billions of dollars and take decades to complete, if it was to happen at all.
Therefore, if cities want people to switch from cars to public transport, bus rapid transit is the superior option in metropolitan Adelaide and potentially other cities with arterial road networks and low suburban densities.
There are many uncertainties about the next federal election, but there is one thing about which you can be almost completely certain. It is the response that both the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition will give when asked this question:
How are we going to pay off our COVID-19 debt?
Scott Morrison and Anthony Albanese disagree on a great many things, but in their answer they will be in perfect harmony.
It will be: “we will need to pay it back in the future by spending less or taxing more — otherwise, we might lack the means to deal with a future crisis”.
They might even talk about “fiscal firepower” — the need to up a budget surplus in order to have something to spend the next time there’s an emergency.
The strange thing is that although this is for them the safest answer to give, and although it is the conventional wisdom, it simply isn’t true.
Consider the following chart. It shows the general government debt as a share of gross domestic product in six countries with similar monetary systems to Australia’s, just prior to the pandemic, and then a year later.
Bank for International Settlements
You cannot help but notice that four of the other five countries had more general government debt than Australia before the COVID crisis, and Japan’s national government had four times as much government debt as Australia.
It made no difference to their ability to spend as needed to support their economies during the pandemic, none whatsoever.
Debt hasn’t hamstrung responses to the crisis
This means it’s wrong to suggest that our government wouldn’t be able to support its economy, even if it didn’t pay back its COVID-related debt.
You might imagine (it’s been said) that more government debt would drive up interest rates, but of late that hasn’t been the case either.
Indeed, the rate of interest on 10-year Japanese government bonds has been close to zero for five years, because it has been held there by the Bank of Japan.
Or perhaps you think that more government debt will lead to higher inflation. In Japan and elsewhere that hasn’t happened either. Japan has had the lowest average inflation rate of these six countries.
And so far it hasn’t stoked inflation
So many myths.
The pivot the Coalition is taking to winding back spending with the end of JobKeeper and the withdrawal of a liveable JobSeeker payment isn’t needed, and is also unwise.
The reluctance of the Labor Party to support a non-poverty unemployment benefit, and its promise to avoid net spending commitments in its election platform, are also unjustified.
Especially in an economy where labour force underutilisation (unemployment plus underemployment) remains over 14%. Nearly two million people are either unemployed or underemployed.
Many more are in insecure employment, including hundreds of thousands whose jobs are now at risk because of the failure to replace JobKeeper with something such as with a federal job guarantee.
It isn’t as though the Australian Greens are speaking from a fiscal script which is that different. The Greens obsess over costing their policies and finding extra tax from resource companies and billionaires to “pay for” their commitments to full employment, social security, education, healthcare, and investment in renewables.
They may not talk so much about repaying the debt, but they do not want to be accused of adding to it.
The Greens worry like the others
Like the bigger parties, the Greens are reluctant to challenge the narrative of the federal government as a household, with a budget it must manage in order to avoid insolvency.
But the household metaphor is another myth, and it needs to be challenged.
The federal government’s finances have nothing in common with those of a household, however wealthy that household might be, and nothing in common with any business, big or small, or even state and territory governments.
None of these are currency issuers. They have to generate income or borrow before they can spend, and their borrowing puts them at risk of insolvency.
Our federal government is different, like the national governments of Japan and the United States. It is the monopoly issuer of the Australian-dollar-denominated currency.
The government does not need to increase taxes in order to increase spending, and it doesn’t even need to borrow. Its Reserve Bank issues currency for it all of the time, every day.
Federal government spending is funded when it is authorised, usually by parliament.
Having spent its currency into existence, the government usually offers savers the opportunity to convert that currency into treasury bonds, which usually offer a better rate of interest than transaction accounts with a bank.
Our government chooses to sell treasury bonds – it doesn’t need to.
This means it can’t be held hostage by the bond market. It can’t be forced into insolvency or austerity. The selling of bonds doesn’t constitute borrowing in the normal sense of the term. It is better described as a way of winding back the money supply.
At the end of the life of the bond (when the “loan” comes due) it can pay it off (swapping cash for the bond). Or it can issue a replacement bond if it doesn’t want to inject more money into the economy.
It’s not just me saying that. It is also a senior economist with the US Federal Reserve, David Andolfatto, in December in a paper published by the St Louis Fed.
Together these considerations suggest we might want to look at the national debt from a different perspective. In particular, it seems more accurate to view the national debt less as a form of debt and more as a form of money in circulation.
President Biden is listening to voices like Andolfatto’s. Australian politicians are not. Ours continue to see federal deficits as a burden on future generations, when they are not that at all – they supply financial resources to the present generation.
The national debt is nothing more than the dollars the government has put into the economy and not yet taxed back out. Deficits matter, but not the way Albanese and Morrison seem to imagine. They matter because if they get too big, they might stoke too much inflation.
What if our leaders spoke the truth
In an economy with spare capacity (unemployment and underemployment) and with wage setting institutions that make it difficult to argue that there will be significant persistent inflation in the foreseeable future, there is no reason at the moment to wind back spending, not until unemployment and underemployment are much lower.
For the Greens, there is no need for them to tie themselves in knots, arguing on the one hand that they need to shrink coal mining to address climate change and on the other that they need to raise taxes from the mining industry to pay for government services.
Taxes collected from the mining and other industries (and form individuals) don’t fund federal government spending. It is self-funded. And the limits on spending are not imposed by tax receipts and the ability of the government to borrow. They are imposed by the availability of productive capacity in our economy and our ability to use that capacity without stoking inflation.
When our leaders are next asked, “how are we going to pay off our COVID-19 debt”, they ought to take a deep breath, look the interviewer in the eyes, and say “we don’t need to, because it is not debt in the conventional sense of the term”.
They ought to tell the public the truth. It’s a novel idea, perhaps, but it would lead to a better educated public and a fairer and better-managed economy.
Two new films explore the fear of forgetting, loss of control, and other complexities that accompany a dementia diagnosis. The Father and Supernova, both released this month, grapple with the challenges confronting people living with dementia and those who love them.
We watched these films through our lenses as a clinician and a neuroscientist. The different causes and conditions that make up the umbrella term of dementia mean the experiences of people living with it — and their loved ones — can differ widely. These films illustrate this well.
In Supernova, directed by British filmmaker Harry Macqueen and starring Colin Firth and Stanley Tucci, we see a fairly accurate representation of frontotemporal dementia. Specifically, this is the type where certain language skills are impaired, known as semantic dementia.
The Father, meanwhile, directed by French playwright Florian Zeller and based on his play of the same name, centres on a protagonist, Anthony (played by Anthony Hopkins), with Alzheimer’s disease, the most common cause of dementia.
Owing to the neurodegenerative nature of dementia, people with this diagnosis experience a progressive deterioration of memory, thinking and behaviour, and gradually lose the ability to perform daily tasks and other physical functions, ultimately leading to death.
‘I don’t need her or anyone else. I can manage very well on my own.’
Both films accurately reflect many of the key early features of these forms of dementia and provide insight into the varied presentations and issues associated with the conditions.
Whereas The Father focuses more heavily on the experience of the individual living with dementia, Supernova gives more attention to shared grief and loss.
In Supernova, Tusker (Tucci) and Sam (Firth) take a roadtrip through stunning northern England. We soon learn the journey is as much an adventure to visit Sam’s family, as it is an exploration of their own mortality.
“You’re still the same person, Tusker,” says Sam. “No I’m not, I just look like him,” his partner responds.
Unlike many other illnesses, those living with dementia frequently show no outward physical signs of their condition until late in its course, and Tusker appears in good physical health.
We witness Sam’s panic when Tusker and their dog Ruby go missing. Impulsivity and spatial disorientation are common phenomena experienced in dementia. Later, Sam masks his distress (as carers often do), attributing his tears to cutting an onion while preparing dinner.
‘Can you tell? That it’s gotten worse?’
Dementia is a condition that affects the person progressively and globally; we initially only see subtle symptoms of Tusker’s language loss, for example, when he can’t find the word “triangle”. Later we note his loss of instrumental function: needing two hands to guide a glass to his mouth, negotiating which arm goes into which sleeve while dressing. Sam tenderly maintains Tusker’s dignity while helping him dress.
When Sam finds Tusker’s notebook, the writing in it has deteriorated across the pages to an indecipherable scrawl. The last pages are blank.
Tusker declares he is dying — dementia is a terminal illness — but how long he has left is unknown. The median time from dementia diagnosis to death is five years. For a previously high-achieving person like Tusker, the loss of his cognitive ability feels more profound to the viewer.
Frightening experience
While The Father may appear to be an imagined horror story, it masterfully presents the disorientating and frightening reality for a person living with dementia.
Anthony is a powerful and compelling character who draws us into his internal chaos – unaware that he is losing his sense of self in place and time. We learn he has been an engineer and father of two daughters, and lives in a comfortable dwelling in a leafy London suburb. He is by turns irascible and charming. Like Tusker, he appears physically fit, well-groomed and fed.
The early narrative tension revolves around Anthony refusing home help. He denies verbally abusing a recent carer and accuses her of stealing his watch; when this is shown to be false he shows no insight or remorse. Those living with dementia may strive to make sense of things they cannot remember by imaginatively filling in the gaps.
People with dementia are altered by the disease, but it’s important to remember that who they are as a person still endures.IMDB
Seeing the world through Anthony’s eyes is a masterful plot device as we the viewers are not quite sure of what is “real”. At some early points we wonder if Anthony is being abused or gaslighted as we are drawn into his perceptions; later we learn that the lens through which we see Anthony’s world is distorted, but a terrifying reality to him.
Like all of us, Anthony is capable of harshness and tenderness, of charm and cruelty. Those experiencing dementia often have diminished control over their emotions and behaviours and this can be exacerbated by stress.
A small weakness of the film is that we gain no real sense of Anthony’s earlier life. Anthony’s temper may indeed be an enduring part of his personality, though it’s more likely a consequence of his serious disease. This is an important point for carers to understand. When his son-in-law challenges him to stop “getting on everyone’s tits” we have some sympathy for Anthony, who we begin to realise is behaving fearfully rather than deliberately.
Eventually Anthony is reduced to sobs: “Lost all my leaves. Branches. Wind. Rain”. As he moves from the moderate to advanced stage of dementia, the need for tender and humane care is clear.
Dementia means a shared loss for couples like Supernova’s Tusker and Sam.IMDB
A key theme with many films exploring dementia, is the end — not just the end of the story, but the end of life.
In The Father we are drawn into Anthony’s agonising reality, the quiet chaos of tomorrow. In Supernova, we understand that Tusker chooses to write the end of his own story. Individuals living with dementia may be altered by the disease process, but it’s important to remember that who they are as a person endures.
The nihilistic vision of these films, while powerful and thought-provoking, is not the only possible construction of dementia. Though we must come to terms with the fact that dementia is a terminal disease, the end point does not negate the imperative to respond to the needs of the person; indeed, it highlights the need for empathy.
The Father is in cinemas now. Supernova opens in Australian cinemas from 15 April.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Rob Brooks, Scientia Professor of Evolutionary Ecology; Academic Lead of UNSW’s Grand Challenges Program, UNSW
Why do people like to kiss? Do other animals kiss? Why are kisses so gross? — Gracie, age 5.
Gracie, you ask a question that puzzled me too when I was about your age. Why would two people want to smoosh their mouths together?
And I don’t just mean: “why does Aunty insist on kissing me to say hello when we visit for Easter lunch?”
I mean teenagers and adult couples — in real life and on TV — all of whom seemed to love long, sloppy kisses. That must be especially confusing for you now, after everything we’ve been told about social distancing because of the coronavirus.
Romance was definitely different during the pandemic.Shutterstock
For people who enjoy kissing, however, the answer is simple: “it feels good”. And they’re not lying, it often does. But that’s not a very good answer to your question.
If you have a younger sister or brother, you will know what’s coming next: “but why does kissing feel good?”
Well, that’s a question even scientists have found tricky to answer. And I’m not sure the answers so far are very satisfying. But let’s see what you think.
Kissing brings people together
Kissing seems to be important when people are first attracted to one another, like when they’ve got a crush on each other. To get close enough to kiss someone, you have to trust that person a lot and let them into your personal space.
If you don’t like somebody enough to kiss them, that’s a sign to them that they should look somewhere else for a girlfriend or boyfriend.
And, kissing aside, sometimes it might feel wrong just to touch another person’s skin. Or you may not like how they smell.
These are examples of our bodies telling us what we can’t put into words. In this case, they’re telling us we aren’t a good match with that person.
As adults, kissing can help us decide if another person is the right person to start a family with (if this is something both people want). Chances are if two people don’t enjoy kissing, they aren’t attracted enough to stay together long enough to raise a child.
If both people do like and trust each other enough to kiss, they’ll probably kiss quite often. The good shared feelings they get from this makes them like and trust each other even more, and eventually that might lead to starting a family.
Some research has shown that couples benefit from kissing even after they’ve been together for many years. In one study, couples who agreed to kiss each other more often were happier with each another and with their lives than couples who carried on as normal.
Kissing is one way people can build trust and closeness, which helps them stay together for a long time.Shutterstock
Back to those germs
When I was in primary school, my friends referred to kissing as “swapping germs”. It’s true that kissing a person exposes you to their germs. But that might actually help explain why we do it.
If you’re going to spend time in a relationship, you’re going to be exposed to another person’s germs. So if we aren’t prepared to kiss somebody because they might make us sick, we surely won’t want to live with them.
And if we do decide to kiss someone we like, the nice feelings we get help us worry less about catching their germs.
Not everybody kisses
Other animals in nature appear to kiss sometimes. Common and bonobo chimpanzees give each other big wet kisses quite often, which look like human romantic kissing.
Aww, isn’t that cute?Shutterstock
But, surprisingly, kissing isn’t something all humans do. Nearly everywhere in the world, there is some kind of loving kiss between parents and children. This is not “romantic”. And not all people kiss romantically.
One big scientific study looked at 168 different groups of people, from small communities that gather and hunt their own food, to bigger and busier cities. These experts found romantic kissing was common in less than half (46%) of the groups.
People from non-kissing cultures who live in sub-Saharan Africa, New Guinea, or the Amazon rainforest find it either funny or disgusting when shown photos of kissing. Then again, they have other ways of touching one another that probably help them build trust and keeps them feeling close.
Romantic kissing is more common in big, complex places where there are many different people living many different lives.
Being able to find and keep a partner is less simple in these settings, which may be why kissing becomes an important part of trying to find a romantic partner.
There are plenty of mysteries wrapped up in a romantic kiss, both for scientists to unravel and for the people doing the kissing to find out. So, if it sounds like I don’t know the exact answer — that’s why.
It’s been a year since Australia introduced its policy of mandatory hotel quarantine for returning travellers. In the past year, some 211,000 travellers have been confined for two weeks in hotel rooms, in conditions many have found difficult to endure.
The policy remains one of the main reasons the Australian community has managed to escape the worst of the COVID-19 pandemic. For the most part, it has been accepted without question by the public.
This isn’t to say it’s been perfectly executed. The program has been the focus of much criticism and investigation over the past year — particularly in Victoria, where it has been twice suspended when the virus “leaked” into the community. The state’s program is again about to begin accepting international arrivals, starting on April 8.
Experts continue to advocate for a stronger system, including moving quarantine hotels to regional locations and considering some form of home quarantine.
Quarantining hotel guest near the Melbourne airport earlier this year.LUIS ASCUI/AAP
But the fundamental idea of quarantine – the mandatory removal of a person’s liberties for the benefit of the whole community – remains uncontroversial.
The reaction in other countries has been very different. When the UK introduced an Australian-style quarantine system in February, it was deeply unpopular with travellers. And let’s not forget how tennis players complained bitterly about Australia’s quarantine system in the lead-up to the Australian Open.
So, why is the feeling so different among Australians? We argue that one reason may be Australia’s long history of incarceration of migrants, Indigenous people and anyone considered an “enemy” of the state. Since the early days of colonial settlement, different forms of confinement have been used not only to control the spread of illness, but also to respond to a wide range of perceived social and political problems.
These policies reinforced the imaginary idea of Australia as a clean, strong and healthy nation, a united federation in control of its borders.
As a result, Australians have become somewhat conditioned to accept the idea that liberty — at least the liberty of outsiders — should at times take second priority to the national interest.
Australia’s history of quarantine began in the 1830s, when authorities in NSW first confined all international arrivals to their ships in harbour to prevent the spread of disease.
Soon afterwards, these arrivals were held for an “incubation period” of 14 days (and sometimes, longer) in a system of purpose-built quarantine stations. The program began only to wind down in the 1950s after air travel became popular.
As such, it was the longest-running quarantine program in the modern world, lasting nearly a century after England, France, and other parts of Europe abandoned the practice for overseas arrivals.
Passengers disembark from a Sydney ferry at a quarantine wharf in 1919.Wikimedia Commons
One explanation for the early enthusiasm for quarantine was it allowed the authorities to manage who could enter the colonies. The policy quickly took on a racialised tone and played into the anti-Chinese sentiment brewing in the goldfields.
Australia’s quarantine system ramped up in the 1880s after an outbreak of smallpox in Sydney. While evidence suggests the disease arrived from Britain (where smallpox was endemic), authorities used the opportunity to raid the homes of Sydney’s Chinese community and force them into quarantine. From that time, regardless of the evidence, Chinese people were regarded as the most potent vectors of disease.
According to historians, the Quarantine Act of 1908 is best understood as part of a suite of laws designed to control entry to Australia and entrench a racialised notion of “membership” in society.
Well into the 20th century, returning travellers had very different quarantine experiences, depending on their race and class.
White, first-class arrivals were serviced with good accommodation, food and entertainment, and many enjoyed their time in confinement. Lower-class and non-white passengers suffered poorer conditions, and could be detained far longer than the mandatory 14 days.
Confinement of Indigenous people and refugees
Quarantine was not the only form of confinement practised by colonial — and later, state and federal — governments.
A range of institutions were implemented to respond to perceived social and political problems, creating what we call an “institutional memory” — or template — for administrative confinement.
For each successive challenge over the years, Australian policymakers have reached for the same toolkit.
From the mid-1800s until well into the second half of the 20th century, for instance, governments established a network of protectorates, reserves and missions to confine and isolate First Nations people.
Their purpose shifted over time, from protecting Indigenous people from frontier violence to “smoothing the dying pillow” (placing First Nations people on reserves where it was believed the elderly would gradually die off and the younger generations would be assimilated into the larger population).
As part of this network, islands became particular sites of horror. Palm Island in Queensland, for example, became known as a place for extra-judicial punishment. Nearby Fantome Island was used for the compulsory isolation of Indigenous leprosy patients at a time when other countries had long abandoned this practice.
Australian policymakers drew on the same confinement toolkit during the two world wars. Australia’s enemy alien internment camps were the most extensive of all allied nations. They were also used, uniquely, to detain prisoners of war on behalf of Australia’s allies.
We would argue that Australian policymakers also relied on this institutional memory when devising a plan to respond to the arrival by boat of 26 Cambodian asylum seekers in 1989. The government fenced in an abandoned mining camp in Port Hedland, Western Australia, and detained the refugees there while their applications for protection were processed.
Australia’s punitive and damaging immigration detention system was introduced soon after. Over the past three decades, refugees have been detained across the breath of the continent (including remote Christmas Island) and in Nauru, Papua New Guinea and Indonesia.
Refugees protesting from hotel detention in Melbourne earlier this year.Erik Anderson/AAP
Hotels have recently been repurposed as “alternative places of detention” for some refugees and asylum seekers in Melbourne and Brisbane, as well.
Though many Australians have protested the mistreatment and lengthy detention of refugees in both onshore and offshore centres, the government has refused to bend to pressure to end the controversial program, despite the cost of over A$1 billion per year.
For now, quarantine hotels are also here to stay. While Australians have enjoyed the freedoms and safety from COVID-19 that they provide, we should remember these hotels are the latest in a long history of administrative confinement, many of which have been sites of pain and despair.
There are many factors that influence whether you choose to have surgery for a health condition.
But one you might not have considered is the very name your doctor uses to describe your condition can make you more or less likely to go under the knife, according to a growing body of research.
This is concerning because there are often less invasive options than surgery that are equally effective and safer.
What’s in a name?
Let’s take shoulder pain as an example.
Three of us (Joshua, Mary and Giovanni) published new research last week finding health professionals’ use of certain medical terms might be encouraging patients to say yes to unnecessary shoulder surgery.
Our world-first trial involved 1,308 people from five countries, some with and without shoulder pain, who were randomly allocated to read one of six hypothetical scenarios. The only difference between the scenarios was the medical term used by the health professional to describe the person’s shoulder pain.
In our study, we used the most common type of shoulder pain where people feel pain at the front of one of their shoulders which is made worse by lifting the arm and lying on it.
There’s an abundance of terms for common shoulder pain, and it’s often difficult to determine what the specific cause is.Shutterstock
Health professionals use a variety of terms for this pain, including “subacromial impingement syndrome”, “rotator cuff tear”, “bursitis”, and “rotator cuff related shoulder pain”.
The terms doctors use vary so widely because it’s currently impossible to pinpoint the exact cause of most shoulder pain, even with the help of sophisticated technology such as magnetic resonance imaging (MRI).
We found people told they had a “rotator cuff tear” wanted shoulder surgery the most. Those told they had “bursitis” (inflammation of a fluid-filled sac in the shoulder) wanted surgery the least. People told they had a rotator cuff tear had 24% higher perceived need for surgery than those told they had bursitis.
Yet some shoulder surgery provides limited benefit to patients. One such example is a type of surgery called “subacromial decompression”, which involves reducing pressure on a tendon by removing surrounding tissue. This procedure is no better than placebo surgery (where patients were put to sleep and researchers only conducted a joint examination, rather than surgery).
Other surgeries to repair torn tendons provide little or no benefit compared with non-surgical treatments such as exercise.
Also, there’s no reliable way to determine that a rotator cuff tear is the cause of a patient’s symptoms. Up to 21% of people aged 30-39 years who don’t have any shoulder symptoms have rotator cuff tears when they are scanned.
More than 20,000 potentially unnecessary shoulder surgeries are performed in Australia each year, which we estimate to cost over A$200 million per year.
Our study adds to increasing evidence showing the name your doctor uses to describe your condition can encourage you to consider unnecessary treatments.
Low-risk “cancer”
There’s a type of abnormal breast cells that can build up in the milk ducts called “ductal carcinoma in situ”. For many people, these cells are low-risk and won’t grow, or grow so slowly they’ll never cause harm.
For patients with these low-risk cells, surgery, radiotherapy and/or hormonal treatments may not improve overall survival. Instead, these interventions may cause harm through surgical complications such as persistent pain or skin burns, as well as financial costs and the psychological impact of being diagnosed with “cancer”.
Acid reflux
One study asked parents to consider a hypothetical scenario in which their otherwise healthy infant cries a lot and “spits up excessively”.
It found parents who were told their child had gastroesophageal reflux disease (commonly known as “acid reflux”) were more interested in medication compared to parents who didn’t receive a diagnosis at all. This was true even when parents were told medication wasn’t beneficial. Medication in babies shows no difference to placebo in reducing these symptoms.
Hearing your baby might have a scary-sounding reflux disease can increase the likelihood you request medication.Shutterstock
‘Pink-eye’
A similar study presented a hypothetical scenario to parents about viral conjunctivitis. One group of parents were told their kids had “pink-eye”, and another were told their kids had an “eye infection”.
Parents told their children had “pink-eye” remained interested in antibiotics despite being told the medications were ineffective. Conversely, parents told their children had an “eye infection” became significantly less interested in antibiotics when told they were ineffective.
Parents given the “pink-eye” label perceived the infection as more contagious than those given the “eye infection” label, even though both are simply other ways of saying conjunctivitis.
Polycystic ovary syndrome
This is a common hormonal condition affecting many women. But symptoms are on a spectrum of severity, with no clear line separating normal from abnormal.
One study found young women told their symptoms indicated “polycystic ovary syndrome” — in a hypothetical scenario of a doctor’s visit — were more likely to want further medical testing than those given the term “hormonal imbalance”. These women also perceived their condition to be more severe and had lower self-esteem.
What should health professionals do?
It’s vital health professionals consider whether the terms they use to describe a condition might be causing unnecessary fear and anxiety, and leading patients to consider unnecessary tests and treatments.
Health professionals may find it challenging to avoid terms they’ve been using for many years. But the potential cost of increasing patient’s fear and anxiety, and making people feel they need surgery when they don’t, cannot be ignored.
Changing how health professionals describe conditions to their patients is a simple strategy that could curb the rise of unnecessary health care.
For patients with shoulder pain not caused by severe trauma, we suggest health professionals avoid telling patients they have rotator cuff tears as this may make some patients think shoulder surgery is needed (which it isn’t).
Health professionals could instead label people with this type of shoulder pain as having bursitis (inflammation), as this was the label that mostly made people think surgery was unnecessary.
Dramatic scenes of flood damage to homes, infrastructure and livelihoods have been with us on the nightly news in recent weeks. Many will be feeling the pain for years to come, as they contend with property damage, financial catastrophe and trauma.
But what if, for a moment, we removed the humans and their structures from these tragic images — what would we see?
We would see a natural process of river expansion and contraction, of rivers doing exactly what they’re supposed to do from time to time. We’d see them exceeding what we humans have deemed to be their boundaries and depositing sediment across their floodplains. We’d see reproductive opportunities for fish, frogs, birds and trees. The floods would also enrich the soils. Floods can be catastrophic for humans, but they are a natural part of an ecosystem from which we benefit.
These scenes clearly depict the intersection of humans and nature, and it’s not working out well for either side.
We must envision a new way of interacting with floodplains – these brilliant social-ecological systems that are not separate to rivers but rather part of the riverine landscape.
Humans can live on and with floodplains — but the way we do that has to change.
Humans can live on and with floodplains — but the way we do that has to change.AAP Image/James Gourley
What is a floodplain?
Floodplains are relatively flat stretches of land located next to rivers. It helps to think of them as an extension of the river; it is natural and normal for a river to flood their adjacent plains.
Floodplains are composed of sediment the river has transported and then deposited, which makes them incredibly fertile. Flow and sediment regimes interacting over decades — or millennia — determine the physical and ecological character of floodplains, and the way they flood.
There are more than 15 generic floodplain types in Australia. Each harbours a unique set of evolutionary properties, physical features and ecosystems.
These influence the way floodwaters traverse floodplains, how long water remains on a floodplain, the velocity, turbulence and depth of floodwaters, and ecosystem responses to flooding. Floodplains are complex and highly variable.
Floodplains are also dynamic and ever-changing — and we should expect them to change even more in the coming years. Australian rivers have experienced regular periods of increased flood activity in the past 100 years.
And climate change is predicted to increase flood activity.
And climate change is predicted to increase flood activity.AAP Image/James Gourley
Humans benefit from floodplains
Floodplains are among the most productive ecosystems on the planet – they are biodiversity hotspots.
That’s in large part due to periodic flooding between different parts of a river-floodplain system; flooding is crucial to the function of floodplains. Without floods, these floodplains wouldn’t “work” — they would not be able to deliver the ecosystem services we benefit from. Those benefits include, but are not limited to:
food grown in these fertile soils
regulation of a balanced ecosystem
cultural heritage
transportation (as floodplains are easy to build roads on)
Humans are drawn to live on floodplains because of their productivity. In Australia, the floodplains of the Murray Darling Basin, heavily developed for agriculture, yield more than A$10 billion annually. These floodplain ecosystems provide an estimated A$187 billion per annum from their various ecosystem services.
However, the more we interrupt floodplain processes with development, the more we diminish the supply of ecosystem services.
The more we interrupt floodplain processes with development, the more we diminish the supply of ecosystem services.AAP/AUSTRALIAN DEFENCE FORCE
The perils of living on floodplains
Putting the people back into the news footage reveals a social picture that is costly, traumatic and disruptive. The events of the past weeks have now brought into focus the perils of living on floodplains.
Humans have come up with ways to contend with this peril. Dams and levees. Land use planning. Building codes. Engineered floodscapes. Insurance. Emergency preparation systems and community engagement.
But if floodplains are a social-ecological system, where society gains great benefits but is also periodically placed at risk, which side should get the greatest policy attention? The humans or the ecosystem?
The answer is: both. But they also need to be better integrated.
Balancing the social with the ecological
Balancing the social and ecological aspects of floodplains requires a mindset change. We must combine community participation with research, resilience and adaptation to make long-term decisions about the future of these complex social-ecological systems.
If society wants to continue to derive the billions of dollars of benefits from floodplains, we need to ensure that flooding continues to occur on floodplains, and adapt to risk in imaginative and innovative ways that also protect the benefits.
Business as usual is not an option. The limitations of technocratic controls such as dams and levees should now be obvious. Time and time again, these have increased flood risk and failed to flood-proof the floodplain.
Rarely do such linear solutions solve complex problems in social-ecological systems. Linear solutions often exacerbate a problem or simply move it on to other parts of the system, creating social inequality, environmental decline and future risk.
The Australian government’s 2018 National Disaster Risk Reduction Framework sets the challenge to join up the built, social, economic and natural environments to address disaster risk in Australia.
Accepting the challenge requires a broader focus on balancing the social-ecological sides of Australia’s vast floodplains. Complexity, not linear thinking, must be embedded in the way we reimagine policy about floodplains and floods.
This requires transformative collaborations between government departments, researchers, business, and community stakeholders.
If this article has raised issues for you, or if you’re concerned about someone you know, call Lifeline on 13 11 14. This story is part of a series The Conversation is running on the nexus between disaster, disadvantage and resilience. You can read the rest of the stories here.
The times they are a-changin’ for higher education. Or so say a growing number of commentators. They see COVID-19 disruptions as a tipping point for universities, accelerating sweeping changes across institutions. These include not just a shift to online teaching and learning, but also a greater focus on industry links and employability skills, and accompanying campus design upgrades.
Many of these changes are arguably necessary in a world in which digital connectivity is the expected norm. It is crucial to understand what these changes involve for universities themselves, and what they mean for the next generation of students. For instance, online education, if done properly, isn’t necessarily cheaper or easier.
With many still in crisis mode, universities might not be ready for these predicted changes. Despite a touted recovery in Australia as COVID vaccines roll out across the globe, the higher education sector isn’t out of the woods. Some expect the impacts will be even greater in 2021 as job losses persist and international students stay away.
Universities suffered the double whammy of a huge decrease in international student revenue as borders closed, and a federal government that stubbornly refused to support the higher education sector and its workers. COVID restrictions have forced university teachers to make often radical shifts in their curriculum and teaching practices while implementing broader changes, all with reduced budgets. And that’s if they are lucky enough to keep their jobs.
Collaborative, evidence-based approach is vital
Proposed “Instagram-worthy” campus infrastructure projects aim to provide more flexible learning and study spaces, immersive classrooms equipped for virtual reality experiences and remote teaching, and “industry precincts” that encourage collaborations. These are worthwhile, forward-looking innovations. But these goals cannot be achieved without a deeper, evidence-based conversation about how this will be done in practice.
And this transformative work must be done in partnership with teaching academics. The very real challenges they face must be taken into account.
Some assume online learning and teaching are easier or cheaper, but that isn’t always the case. Teaching well online requires at least as much effort as face-to-face, and potentially more.
The online/digital space can adequately replicate only some face-to-face interactions. Others can be difficult to reproduce. These include activities that develop manual and psychomotor skills, such as laboratory and field work in the sciences, and kinesthetic skills in the performing arts.
Even the robustness of tutorial debates might be altered as students move from a shared physical space to one dominated by the “Zoom gaze”.
Teaching academics will likely need extra support to implement such activities online or to find creative solutions. For either approach to be successful, institutions will have to invest more in appropriate technologies.
We are seeing an increase in the use of technology in teaching and learning at Australian universities. By necessity, the pandemic rapidly accelerated this trend. But an increase in online learning does not necessarily equate to a decrease in costs, or in the need for specialist staff.
Staff and students will likely appreciate the flexible learning offered by the predicted digitised future campus. But it is important to remember the benefits of in-person and on-campus interactions.
For students, these include fostering a sense of belonging to the university, which can increase resilience and retention. And the benefits for academic teaching staff include, for example, the fruitful conversations about teaching and learning that so often take place in informal settings.
With universities welcoming staff and students back to campus as COVID restrictions ease, many are seeing the value of the on-campus experience.
Teaching and learning both benefit from the many informal interactions that come from being on campus together.Shutterstock
Transition will take a lot of time and effort
Digitisation and flexible learning models can help both students and academics collaborate with others across the sector. However, these changes won’t be instantaneous. Nor can they be driven solely by upgrades to campus infrastructure.
We also won’t see, in the near future, a complete shift in academics’ teaching and curriculum design practice. They are already stretched to their capacity in a sector under fire.
The continuing destabilisation of budget cuts, workload demands and an uncertain COVID situation mean the transformation of teaching practices may come in fits and starts. It will be an incremental process driven at first more by necessity and opportunity than by long-term strategy.
The challenge then for universities, and for their academic development and engagement units, is to define, validate and advocate for best practice in both online and face-to-face modes. Only then can they expect to meet the immediate, pressing challenges instructors face while building their future capacity to deliver collaborative, flexible and engaging online and blended learning.
The importance of a free press to a thriving democracy is well-known. But what is its importance to a thriving economy?
We have found evidence attacks on press freedom – such as jailing journalists, raiding their homes, shutting down printing presses, and using libel laws to thwart reporters – have measurable effects on economic growth.
Our research team – spanning economics, journalism and media – used rankings on press freedom from the US-based Freedom House and data on economic growth to examine 97 countries from 1972 to 2014.
We found countries that recorded a decrease in press freedom also experienced a 1%-2% drop in real gross domestic product (GDP) growth.
Economies may not bounce back
Our findings affirm other economic studies showing the institutions that uphold a “rule of law” are strongly associated with stronger economic performance. Our work took into account education, labour force and physical capital.
Perhaps our most significant – and unexpected – finding is the long-term economic impost of undermining a free press.
Freedom House’s own research suggests “press freedom can rebound from even lengthy stints of repression when given the opportunity”:
The basic desire for democratic liberties, including access to honest and fact-based journalism, can never be extinguished.
But this rebound does not translate to the economy. In nations where freedoms were removed, and then restored, economic growth did not fully recover.
In Hong Kong, new security laws threaten to snuff out independent media. In Myanmar, publications have been silenced and journalists arrested. In Malaysia, journalists have been harassed and jailed for criticising the government. In the Philippines, respected investigative journalist Maria Ressa has been detained ten times in two years and convicted of “cyberlibel” under controversial laws. In India, the world’s largest democracy, the Modi government has curbed press freedoms.
Press freedom around around the world, rated by Freedom House.Freedom House
These aren’t just issues for other countries.
Australia might look relatively free, particularly compared with near neighbours. But recent years has seen Australian Federal Police raids on journalists homes and the new restrictive national security laws. The journalists’ union, the Media Entertainment and Arts Alliance, has called the federal government’s actions a “war on journalism”.
Acknowledging limitations
We acknowledge our work is a macro-level study, examining broad statistical associations, finding many relationships that are notable at the 1% level of significance. These cannot, and should not, be a replacement for nuanced analyses of specific contexts, cultures and media models.
We also acknowledge that Freedom House is just one of a number of international bodies that keeps track of people’s access to political rights and civil liberties. The organisation uses a specific US-centred view to look at individual freedoms —including the right to vote, freedom of expression, equality before the law — that can be affected by state or nonstate actors.
But it does factor in the ability of journalists to report freely on matters of public interest, and show the connection with economic prosperity:
A free press can inform citizens of their leaders’ successes or failures, convey the people’s needs and desires to government bodies, and provide a platform for the open exchange of information and ideas. When media freedom is restricted, these vital functions break down, leading to poor decision-making and harmful outcomes for leaders and citizens alike.
There is more statistical work to be done, but our analysis shows strong evidence press freedom, along with better education, is a key to improving economic performance.
Perhaps this might be motivation enough for the government in Australia – and other countries – to reconsider their approach to press freedom, and provide more financial support for public-service journalism, such as that offered by the ABC and SBS.
With the sudden death of Carla Zampatti, Australia has lost perhaps its most successful and loved fashion designer. Zampatti was that rare beast who had inter-generational relevance. She celebrated her 55th year in business before COVID lockdown, in early 2020. She had not retired when she died at 78.
The outpourings of condolence on social media channels since her death (due to injuries sustained in a fall at the Sydney Opera) indicate the high esteem in which she was held nationally. Comments fall into two groups: a much loved designer who made clothes women wanted to wear; and a woman who supported the next generation as well as those who worked for her.
Zampatti arrived as a migrant from northern Italy in Fremantle in 1950. She was proud of her immigrant status. She often spoke of the contribution of Italians to Australian life: their food, culture, enterprise and hard work. She believed Australia had strong vestiges of Italy.
She also spoke of the opportunity that Australia presented for someone like her, interested in designing fashion clothing. Australian fashion markets and also our wider cultural outlook were being transformed in that immediate post-war period when she arrived.
Carla Zampatti migrated from Italy to Australia in 1950, founding an iconic label in her adopted homeland.AAP/Carla Zampatti P/L
Post-war Australian fashion
Vogue magazine launched its first Australian supplement in 1959. The country was becoming more outward looking, casual and fast-fashion oriented.
The household spend on clothing, footwear and drapery climbed dramatically, tripling from 1946–7 to 1959–60. Social change was afoot, too: the number of married women working rose to 38.3% by 1961. It can be assumed that fewer of them had time to make their own clothes, and this created opportunities for ready to wear lines that also could keep pace with the very rapid fashion change after the War.
By 1968, with higher participation by women in the workforce (about 39%), home sewing was in decline and local manufacturing protected by high tariffs was in full swing. Many of the post-war manufacturers were migrants, including the large European Jewish population, who accelerated the introduction of casual separates, sports clothes for men and women, finer knitted garments, and bright, synthetic materials.
All of this reduced the women’s labour needed to maintain clothes and keep them looking good. Mix and match, modularity, looser fit clothes were more amenable to product standardisation than old-fashioned tight fitted clothes such as suits. The industry favoured those with fashion and style knowledge, and skilled owner-managers who understood both craft skills and production.
Zampatti working behind the scenes at Australian Fashion Week in Sydney, 2013.AAP/Tracey Nearmy
Birth of a fashion icon
Zampatti had these skills. She benefited from and contributed to this cultural and structural change in Australian fashion – and then took it to the next level.
She opened her first wholesale business in Sydney in 1965. Her 1960s work indicates a bold, graphic touch, with a nod to bohemianism, but smarter. Zampatti began displaying her clothes in the window of her Surry Hills workshop, bypassing the division of wholesale and retail. She opened her first boutique in 1972, at a time when manufacturers were unlikely to also be retailers. Eventually, she had about 30 stores and later exclusive arrangements with the department store David Jones.
Zampatti became very successful. By 1980, she was named Business Woman of the Year , and she went beyond fashion to industrial design, designing the Ford Laser car for women in 1985.
Zampatti’s appeal and legacy
Why were her clothes such a hit?
Zampatti’s designs were known for their wearability.AAP/James Ross
Zampatti designed extremely wearable clothes for working women. In the 1980s they had metal zippers instead of fussy openings, and invisible zippers in trousers to keep a good line. She later designed practical jumpsuits that could be dressed up with a jacket. She also designed glamorous evening wear for wedding, red carpet and special occasion. She was aware of the process of maturity: “When you are young you agonise and try to please everyone. Now I don’t”.
Zampatti always stressed that fashion was first and foremost a business, not an artistic practice, although the business would not succeed if aesthetics were neglected. Local production was important to her and her lines continued to be manufactured in Australia. She was cosmopolitan, sophisticated and outward-looking. She was a woman of the world but also believed Australians had no need to be expatriates in the jet age, and had much to contribute at home.
To that end, she funded a scholarship at University of Technology Sydney. The most talented students graduating in Fashion and Textiles with a strong business sense could study a Masters degree in London, Milan or New York, with the hope they would return to Australia and impart their new horizon of experience in developing a successful line.
In an SBS interview with Janice Peterson (who often wore her clothes for TV) she remarked on the impact of Italian art and church frescoes on her as a child. Indeed, you can see the clear, strong colours of Renaissance and Mannerist art translated into crisp tones and looks for Australian women.
In Zampatti’s ethos, women wore the clothes, not the clothes them.AAP/Dan Himbrechts
Zampatti was a modernist. Tailoring for women was paramount in her daywear and women’s bodies were not obscured by elaborate patterns or trimmings. Women ranging from former Governor-General Dame Quentin Bryce, former Prime Minister Julia Gillard, current First Lady Jenny Morrison, former politicians Anna Bligh and Julie Bishop, Ita Buttrose, Susan Renouf, Princess Mary, Nigella Lawson and countless news anchors, journalists as well as stars wore her clothes.
The clothes made them look striking, but they wore the clothes, and not the clothes them.
Zampatti was a skilled businesswoman, a pioneering board member (first female chair at SBS, board member of Westfield Group; Art Gallery of New South Wales, University of Technology Sydney, amongst others) and cultural benefactor (Sydney Dance Company and other cultural and performance groups).
She was primarily a proud, feminist fashion designer, promoting economic independence and agency for women. What she had achieved from the 1960s was remarkable.
Australia is the poorer without Zampatti and her pioneering fashion ethos.
Zampatti was a feminist designer with a pioneering fashion ethos.AAP/Stefan Postles
However, recent research indicates the Egyptian spiny mouse, which menstruates like humans do, could offer an excellent model for research. Our new study, published in Scientific Reports, shows the lining of the mouse’s uterus, or endometrium, also grows in a human-like way to prepare for embryo implantation.
Why animal models are important
There are many reasons for miscarriage and other pregnancy complications, ranging from hormonal and vitamin imbalances to failure of placental development and impaired embryo implantation. To understand these conditions, researchers need to do experiments – but doing experiments on humans poses serious ethical, practical and financial challenges.
That’s why researchers try to “model” the conditions in suitable laboratory animals. Animal models (using rodents in particular) have helped explain many aspects of human reproduction, but they are limited by fundamental differences between human reproduction and that of other species.
Less than 2% of all mammal species menstruate, with most instead having an oestrus cycle (“going on heat”). Aside from humans, most menstruating species are great apes or old-world monkeys.
Non-human primates like these would be the most biologically appropriate animals for modelling human reproduction. But their large size, complex welfare requirements and high costs have prevented their adoption as laboratory animals.
So, to study and manage human pregnancy more effectively, we need a more appropriate menstruating animal model of female reproduction.
The menstruating spiny mouse
The Egyptian spiny mouse (Acomys cahirinus) was recently shown to have human-like menstruation. This had never been seen before in any rodent, and the discovery gives researchers an unprecedented non-primate model for studying menstrual and gynaecological disorders.
Researchers from Monash University have since delved deeper into the mystery of spiny mouse reproductive biology. The researchers have provided an in-depth characterisation of the menstrual cycle, identified PMS-like behaviour and, most recently, early embryo implantation and pregnancy.
Endometrial growth
In our study published in Scientific Reports, we discovered that the lining of the spiny mouse’s uterus displays similar patterns of growth and receptivity to embryo implantation as other menstruating species.
Before an embryo can implant, the uterus lining must more than double in size and begin secreting the required proteins to encourage an embryo to implant correctly. This study demonstrated simultaneous increases in thickness and receptivity of the spiny mouse endometrium before embryo implantation, closely reflecting the events in other menstruating species.
A fluorescent image of the spiny mouse uterus just before embryo implantation. The green chunk at the bottom left is the muscle of the uterus, and the thinner green structures are the uterine arteries. Blue shapes are cell nuclei, and the red dots within the arteries are blood cells, and red outside the arteries is either blood cells or protein.Jarrod McKenna, Author provided
Spiral arteries
In all menstruating species, spiral-shaped arteries grow in the uterine lining.
These spring-like arteries are vital to provide nutrients for a growing placent, and poorly functioning spiral arteries are associated with several pregnancy complications such as pre-eclampsia and intra-uterine growth restriction.
In our study, we observed the growth of spiral arteries prior to embryo implantation, but also changes to their structure and function soon after. This also occurs during early pregnancy in other menstruating species including gorillas, chimpanzees and humans.
Looking to the future
Although our knowledge of spiny mouse reproductive biology is in its infancy, what we do know is very encouraging.
This study is further proof for the unique reproduction of the spiny mouse and adds to the growing list of reproductive traits we share with this fascinating species. Not only do spiny mice have human-like menstruation, but this recent study demonstrates similarities of endometrial growth, receptivity and the critical role of spiral arteries during early pregnancy of menstrual species.
Further research into spiny mouse reproductive biology may reveal new treatment options for pregnancy complications. In turn, this could change how we treat and monitor pregnancy and lead to better outcomes.
This is the first in a series of two articles looking at antisemitism in Australia.
Antisemitism — hatred towards Jews — can be expressed in many forms. It often takes the form of a hate crime, such as violence against people (including murder or assault) and damage to property (vandalism).
It can also take the form of an incident regulated by civil law or not regulated at all. For example, antisemitism can be expressed in verbal and non-verbal displays of aggression, threatening posters, stickers, leaflets or other displays of hate.
Recently, for example, a Jewish woman in her 60s was spat at and called “Jewish scum” on the eve of Passover in a Melbourne street.
What if we could predict when antisemitic incidents are most likely to occur? Is it possible to identify patterns linking these incidents to particular dates or events — and therefore be better prepared to counter them?
Our team of researchers analysed 673 incidents of antisemitism across Australia from 2013–17 to determine if they were more likely to occur — or if they were more serious in nature — during specific events.
Among the events we looked at were:
Swastika symbols defacing a bus stop in Bondi Beach, NSW, in 2016.NSW police/PR Handout Image
Data collected by community organisations like ECAJ are usually more detailed and complete than police statistics, due to the under-reporting of antisemitic and other hate crimes to the authorities.
Our data included a wide spectrum of both criminal and non-criminal hate incidents, including physical assault, verbal abuse, graffiti and vandalism, as well as various types of communication like mail, emails, stickers, posters, leaflets and telephone calls.
We then re-coded all the incidents, placed them on a timeline and divided them into categories based on the severity of the incident.
What events were likely to trigger hate?
Our results showed that weeks with Jewish celebrations were more likely to coincide with incidents of hate speech, such as verbal abuse and offensive gestures.
This could be explained by the fact that during the holidays, Jewish people are more identifiable on the street, as many tend to wear religious garments or congregate outside synagogues.
Overseas, Jewish holidays have also been chosen for targeted attacks at synagogues, for example, the 2019 attack in Halle, Germany, on Yom Kippur. In our Australian data set, incidents during Jewish celebrations were less likely to involve physical violence, and more likely to involve hate speech.
The antisemitic incidents we tracked during the 2014 Israel–Gaza conflict, however, were significantly more likely to involve violence towards people (such as throwing objects).
And the incidents that occurred after the establishment of Antipodean Resistance were more likely to involve indirect forms of hate speech (such as the neo-Nazi stickers defacing an aged care facility in Melbourne housing Holocaust survivors), and be claimed by the hate group.
Our research builds on what previous studies have found. A study in the US last year, for instance, found that Israeli military operations, as well as the presence of hate groups in certain geographical areas, were associated with an increase in antisemitic incidents.
And a study in Belgium found similar links between waves of antisemitic attacks in that country in 2008–09 and Israel’s offensive against Hamas in Gaza.
Treasurer Josh Frydenberg warned earlier this year that antisemitism was on the rise in Australia.Mick Tsikas/AAP
A sharp increase in incidents in recent years
We believe the same patterns we identified from 2014–17 would also apply to the present day.
The ECAJ Antisemitism Report noted increases in hate incidents during Jewish religious festivals up to 2019.
In 2020, there were fewer opportunities for antisemitic abuse because of the COVID-19 pandemic and the closure of Jewish facilities and synagogues.
Nonetheless, from 2019–20, there was a marked increase in the number of serious incidents in Australia, including physical assaults and verbal abuse.
Antipodean Resistance has disbanded in recent years, but some of its members have reportedly joined a new group called the National Socialist Network.
The group gained attention for a weekend camping trip in the Grampians earlier this year, during which they burned crosses and chanted racist slogans. This incident coincided with the 76th anniversary of the liberation of the Auschwitz concentration camp.
A major report released recently also noted several neo-Nazi groups banned in Europe and the US were now operating in Australia. Since 2019, they have become more explicitly antisemitic, aggressively racist and white supremacist.
Why this data is important
Our research can be used by both policymakers and community organisations to gain a more nuanced understanding of antisemitism and what drives it.
Studying the relationships between the types of hate incidents and specific trigger events can help improve preparedness and focus critical security resources at times when the Jewish community is at greatest risk.
However, they all use different definitions and criteria, and they usually do not share data with each other. This means that each organisation has a piece of the puzzle, but no one can see the whole picture.
Our research highlights the need for a more comprehensive register of hate crimes and incidents combining data from all of these sources, as well as Facebook and Twitter.
One of the main reasons we don’t have a centralised database is Australia doesn’t have a federal hate crime law similar to the US and UK.
We need to develop a “whole of society” approach that involves civil society organisations, government agencies, law enforcement and scholars.
With this in mind, we developed (together with colleagues from Sydney University, City University of New York and Michigan State University) a website called Tackling Hate. It offers free training modules, videos and resources to help these sectors build the skills to identify and address all forms of hate.
Only then will we be able to develop more targeted, evidence-based policies and practices to better predict when antisemitic incidents are likely to occur and be prepared to counter them.
Thousands of women outlined stories of sexual harassment at private school parties in a petition launched by Chanel Contos recently. Contos is calling for better sexuality education at school, which includes more information about consent.
After the March 4 Justice rally demanding better treatment of women in workplaces, schools and society several boys from Melbourne’s private Wesley College made misogynistic comments on a bus.
Wesley’s principal Nick Evans called the behaviour unacceptable and told the ABC pornography was a source of sex education for many students and “has to be a huge part of the conversation” in tackling violence against women.
Better sexuality education which teaches respect can go some way to counter the lessons young people take from pornography.
But our study on the delivery of sexuality education found some teachers were anxious about parental fear, negative media and political hysteria. Unfortunately, the teachers we spoke to considered teaching sexuality “risky”.
Consequently, schools and teachers in our study were watering down content, excluding some material and shutting down conversations.
Pornography and sex education
One of the reasons young people use pornography is to satisfy their curiosity about sex. And much of mainstream pornography models misogynist attitudes and problematic sexual behaviour.
Feminist author Andrea Dworkin made the link between pornography and misogyny in the 1970s. Feminist research continues to demonstrate a connection.
Most recently, sexuality educator Maree Crabbe wrote that porn
communicates a whole range of deeply problematic messages – about sex … gender, power, aggression, bodies, pleasure, sexuality, consent and race.
She wrote:
Porn is an incredibly powerful communicator. It can influence what we like and want without us even realising.
School sexuality programs
Between 2016 and 2017, one of the authors conducted in-depth interviews with nine teachers across nine Victorian government schools to find out how students are taught the skills to develop positive, healthy relationships. She observed the delivery of sexuality education and spoke with five principals about it.
Teachers said sex isn’t being discussed at home with parents. Instead, students are deliberately seeking out information about sex from pornography. This corresponds with the findings of Our Watch that by the age of 13, nearly 50% of boys have viewed pornography.
Teachers expressed concern about students’ reliance on pornography. They talked about students believing what they see to be “the way you should act” or “how you do sex”. This includes questionable negotiations over consent.
One teacher said: “In pornography you’re seeing something that young people think is consensual.”
Respectful Relationships is a program that constitutes one component of sexuality education in some schools. It has the potential to combat the misogyny of mainstream pornography.
Respectful Relationships is a set of evidence-based resources promoting the development and maintenance of healthy relationships of all kinds. The resources are for use in and beyond sexuality education classes.
All Victorian government schools are mandated to deliver the Respectful Relationships curriculum as recommended by the royal commission into family violence. Although other schools in Australia may use this curriculum resource.
Specifically, there is a unit designed to “address the link between sexualisation, pornography, gender and respectful relationships”.
One teacher said about the program:
Girls can feel empowered by the program […] They may examine their relationship and see if it’s a respectful relationship.
The teachers we spoke with wanted to deliver this curriculum. They were well trained to do so. They knew their students and that the curriculum has the potential to counter what students learn outside the classroom.
The respectful relationships curriculum can empower girls.Shutterstock
While one teacher talked explicitly about the way the curriculum empowered girls, another described it as filling a gap in knowledge that prevented students from seeking bad information via alternative resources.
For this teacher, Respectful Relationships supported students to talk to her when they were considering having sex for the first time or when they experienced harmful sexual behaviour.
So, what’s the problem?
This curriculum provides tools for students navigating sex and sexuality, and for teachers to counter, even preemptively challenge, problematic ideas.
But with the public controversy over Safe Schools — a program that aims to help schools foster a safe environment supportive and inclusive of LGBTI students — at the forefront of their minds, teachers and principals detailed the many ways they sought to minimise parental fear and negative media associated with sexuality education.
One teacher said:
This is a really loaded subject […] it can really frighten people and they can think, ‘Christ, I have a little year 7 or a year 12 girl at that school’.
Teachers described censoring curriculum to avoid “riskier” content such as non-heterosexual sex and female pleasure. They also removed the words “sex” and “sexuality” from the title of programs, and limited parental knowledge about the programs they deliver.
During class observations the author witnessed teachers hesitant to engage with important but complex topics such as consent and same-sex intimacy.
The Respectful Relationships curriculum has the potential to combat the misogyny of porn. By giving teachers the confidence, support and opportunity to do the job they are employed to do, we are likely to see meaningful change.
Easter is the biggest chocolate-buying time of the year. But who’s really paying for the cost of that chocolate?
The second annual report on the social and environmental performance of the world’s major chocolate makers show human exploitation and environmental degradation continue to be key ingredients in many chocolate products.
The report sorts 31 major chocolate makers into four bands – industry leaders, those showing improvement, those needing to do more and the industry laggards – based on their written responses to questions about their polices in six key areas covering social, environmental and governance practices.
Thirteen makers ranked in the second category, includes most of the world’s ten biggest confectionary companies – Mars Wrigley (US), Ferraro Group (Luxembourg/Italy), Mondelēz International (US, owner of the Cadbury, Toblerone and Milka brands), Hershey (US), Nestlé (Switzerland) and Lindt & Sprüngli (Switzerland).
Seven companies were in the third rank. Three were in the fourth – Meiji, Itochu and Morinaga (all Japan-based).
Four companies failed to respond to the survey: Valrhona (France); Starbucks (US, a major seller of hot chocolate products); Unilever (UK); and August Storck (Germany, maker of Werther’s, Toffifay and Merci chocolate brands).
The principle ingredient for making chocolate is cocoa, the powder made from grinding the seeds of the cacao plant. About 70% of cacao is farmed in West Africa, with Côte d’Ivoire and Ghana being the big two producers.
Most cacao farmers make less than US$1 a day (and women even less), well below the global poverty line of $US1.90. An estimated 1.6 million children work in cocoa production in Côte d’Ivoire and Ghana alone.
Most cacao farmers earn less than US$1 a day.chomplearn/Shutterstock
Clearing land to farm cacao is estimated to be responsible for about one-third of of the land cleared in Côte d’Ivoire and Ghana over the past 60 years. These countries have now lost more than 80% of rainforest cover. Such deforestation contributes to climate change.
The good news is that most companies and four producer governments (Côte d’Ivoire, Ghana, Colombia and Cameroon) have committed to ending cocoa-driven deforestation through the Cocoa and Forest Initiative.
Some action is taking place through agroforestry, which involves farming a variety of crops while retaining natural vegetation. This has been shown to reduce the need for pesticides, increase carbon sequestration and improve biodiversity. It is also better for farmers’ food and income security, as they can grow diverse crops rather than relying on just one.
Supply chain transparency
Essential to addressing these social and environmental problems is achieving transparency in supply chains. If a company does not trace and track where products have come from, it cannot know if they have been produced through human exploitation or environmental destruction.
The report rates chocolate makers on two measures related to this – due diligence traceability and transparency. These are crucial as the foundation for all other reforms.
They are also key to Australia’s modern slavery act, which requires businesses with an annual turnover of A$100 million to publish a “modern slavery statement” reporting on the risks of modern slavery in their operations and supply chains, and on the actions they have taken to address these.
But such transparency alone will not be enough if consumers don’t act on that information, and put pressure on chocolate companies through their purchasing decisions.
One of the biggest trends in economics over the past 40 years has been so-called “financialisation” – whereby an increasing proportion of GDP in advanced economies comes from the financial sector.
This has involved the development of ever more sophisticated “financial instruments” such as swaps, options and other derivative securities.
The global mobility of financial capital has also given banks and hedge funds massive piles of money with which to make leveraged bets on everything from stock prices to the fourth derivative of the volatility of South American currencies — which is (I kid you not) a contract on the rate of change on the rate of change on the rate of change in currency value.
As Harvard economists Robin Greenwood and David Scharfstein have noted, in 1980 the financial sector accounted for 4.9% of US GDP. By 2007 it was 7.9%. Since 1980, they note, the financial sector’s share of GDP has increased at 13 basis points a year, compared with 7 basis points a year over the 30 years prior.
The dark side of financialisation
Financialisation’s dark side is known to anyone who has seen the movie The Big Short.
The financial sector went from being “boring” in the 1970s and early 1980s to being a playground for clever, sometimes unscrupulous traders driven by huge incentives and the prospect of paydays in the tens, or hundreds of millions.
Given some of the ugly and venal behaviours we have seen, it is hardly surprising there has been a huge backlash against big banks and hedge funds. Too often these behaviours have brought the global financial system to the brink.
As far back as 1998 a rinky-dink little hedge fund (backed by two Nobel Prize-winning economists, Myron Scholes and Robert Merton, Long-Term Capital Management, believed it had an unbeatable system to play these markets. Instead it turned US$1 billion into US$125 billion of toxic derivatives bets, almost bringing down financial markets around the world.
Then there are the collapses of Bear Stearns and Lehman Brothers due to the subprime mortgage crisis, which precipitated the global financial crisis of 2008.
But it’s not all bad news. A new paper by MIT economists Felipe Iachan and Alp Simsek with Plamen Nenov at the Norwegian Business School explores the idea that financial innovation can provide investors, small and large, with more choice, with positive results for their savings decisions and investment returns.
Before the advent of mutual funds, it was very hard (and expensive) for small investors to invest in the stock market. The advent of such funds increased stock-market participation in the US from about 10% of households in the 1950s to more than 50% by the end of the 1990s.
In Australia, effective stock-market participation is now even more pervasive due to our superannuation system, whereby almost anyone who has had a full-time job has stock investments.
What does this mean for the amount of savings, and for asset prices?
You might think that increased portfolio choice would decrease savings — and you’d be in good company.
The traditional literature in financial economics predicts just that. The logic is that people save to protect themselves against risks — such as losing their job because the industry in which they are employed is battered by international competition or technological change.
By investing in stocks, they hedge that risk by exposing themselves to other industries and firms. If the industry in which they work turns down their stock market investments might be going up.
As a result of this more efficient saving, households don’t need to do as much saving as if they were holding piles of cash or government bonds. Because those savings aren’t as diversified. So savings should go down and interest rates should go up, all else equal.
Contradicting evidence
But, as the authors of this new paper point out, the evidence is that “while there is a well-known negative trend in saving rates since the 1980s, the trend has been much weaker for participants”.
Put differently, stock-market participants have increased their saving relative to non-participants since the 1980s.
And that’s controlling for wealth, so it’s not about how much people have to invest but in what, and how much, they invest.
They go on to offer a framework in which investors who hold different beliefs about asset returns can express those beliefs more effectively when financial innovation provides them with a greater choice of investment products.
This isn’t just a matter of theory — elegant though the authors’ theory is. The empirical evidence suggests this “choice channel” explains two important facts about investment returns in recent years.
First, stock market participants save more than non-participants. Second, “similar households seem to receive more dispersed portfolio returns in recent years”.
Pros and cons
There has been plenty of justified criticism of the financial sector in recent years. Risky and unseemly things have been done, hurting regular folk a great deal.
But we shouldn’t forget new and better financial products can also help small-time investors. Perhaps the leading example is index funds that allow them to hold a diversified portfolio of the whole stock market at very low cost — a fee of, say, 0.05% a year, rather than the 1% commonly paid stock pickers for inferior performance.
This is why the option of a low-cost index fund should be at the heart of Australia’s superannuation system.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Philip C. Almond, Emeritus Professor in the History of Religious Thought, The University of Queensland
Easter celebrates the Christian belief that Jesus Christ rose from the dead. In so doing, he overcame sin and death on behalf of all of us. The resurrection of Jesus was a guarantee that, for those who believed in him, they too would do the same. As St. Paul put it, “He who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also”.
That said, the resurrected body of Jesus was a very ambiguous one. He ate fish and bread, but he could also pass through closed doors. Similarly, there has always been an uncertainty about the nature of our resurrection bodies.
By the end of the second century, Christianity had absorbed the Greek tradition of the immortality of the soul. From that time on, it viewed the human person as consisting of an immortal soul and a mortal body.
This meant that, immediately after death, the individual soul continued its existence. It also meant at the end of history, the individual body would rise from the dead and be reunited with its soul. God would then judge it as worthy of eternal happiness in heaven or eternal punishment in hell.
Christianity shared with Judaism, Zoroastrianism, and later Islam, a belief in the final resurrection of the body.
Luca Signorelli, Resurrection of the Flesh, a fresco painted between 1499 and 1502.Wikimedia Commons
What will resurrected bodies be like? Saint Augustine in his work The City of God gave us some clues early in the fifth century. They will be physical bodies but animated by an immortal soul. They will appear to be about 30 years old, the age that Christ reached.
Men will arise in male bodies and women in female bodies. But there will be no sexual desire and hence no marriages in heaven. The “flesh” will serve the “spirit” and not the reverse as happens in the present life.
Critics then, like critics now, thought it a ridiculous idea and panned it mercilessly. Even though Augustine thought the critics were being frivolous, he attempted to give serious answers to their questions. Will aborted foetuses rise? What size will they be? What will the bodies of monstrous births, the disfigured, and the deformed be like? What will be the fate of those devoured by beasts, consumed by fire, drowned, or eaten by cannibals?
By the 13th century, these questions had become matters of serious philosophical discussion within Christianity and not merely responses to critics of it. Thomas Aquinas, the greatest philosopher of Roman Catholicism, for example, picked up where Augustine left off.
On the day of resurrection, he believed, bodies will have the same gender and the same organs as when they were alive. But they won’t have the same uses because there will be no desire to eat, drink, or have sex.
Therefore, there will be no need for food, clothing, transportation, or medicine. There will be no need for heavenly plants nor (pet or meat lovers read no further!) animals. Those in hell would have bodies suitable to their character — ugly, sluggish, black, gross, and capable of suffering.
By the 17th century, the new sciences were adding fresh answers to a key problem. How would all the dispersed bits of people get back together? For example, Robert Boyle, the father of modern chemistry, worried about bodies that were eaten by animals, fish or cannibals.
Raphael, The Resurrection of Jesus Christ (Kinnaird Resurrection), from 1499 to 1502.Wikimedia Commons
At least a tiny bit of us, Boyle suggested, will be able to be retrieved from the bodies of animals, sharks, or cannibals — enough for God to work with. Moreover, his own chemical experiments on the long-lasting texture of bones assured him they would still be around on resurrection day. In the end, however, he like many others, was forced to fall back on God’s miraculous powers to get all of our bits and pieces back into one piece.
Vast amounts of theological ink were spilt on the attempt to defend what, at the end of the day, was really rationally indefensible. It is no surprise that, as the feasibility of the miraculous disappeared in the 18th century, so rational defences of the resurrection of the physical body disappeared from intellectual history. They were buried in a forgotten and unmarked theological grave.
These days, at least to more liberal Christians, the resurrection of the body remains a matter of faith rather than reason. It is pretty much ignored. The afterlife in general tends to be thought of as the survival of a spirit immediately after death or even only as a brief period of time in the memories of those still alive.
But whatever Christians believe about our resurrection body, they still believe Jesus rose physically, or perhaps spiritually, from the dead. It is a life and a death that continues to influence 2.3 billion people throughout the world.
One afternoon in the late 1970s, my colleague and fellow student Helen Quirk handed me a brown, shrivelled fern frond. It appeared to be dead, and was so dry that when I crushed it between my fingers it disintegrated into a powder.
We placed another piece on a petrie dish and added water. Almost immediately, the piece began to unfold and, as though in time-lapse photography, it appeared to re-green. Within a few hours it looked like a normal, delicate fern.
This was my first encounter with a resurrection fern: remarkable plants that look dead and dry, but when provided with the right conditions — often just the addition of water — rapidly spring back to life.
Helen died a few short years later in 1982, but her botanical legacy of classifying and exploring the ecology of Australian resurrection ferns lives on.
The resurrection fern she showed me turned out to be a new species, and her scientific description of it hooked me immediately. I was fascinated to discover more.
The remarkable ancient history of ferns
Plant enthusiasts often think of ferns as being simple and delicate plants from an earlier evolutionary time. Ferns predate all flowering and cone-bearing plants, often by millions of years.
Cheilanthes austrotenuifolia colonies growing beneath eucalypts.Gwen & Rodger Elliot/Royal Botanic Gardens Board Victoria 2020, CC BY-NC-SA
Their long evolutionary history has meant similar ferns are found on many continents. This is because they once existed on the supercontinent Pangaea around 300 million years ago, before it broke apart into Gondwana and Laurasia and its various components began the great continental drift to their current positions.
So, while ferns are indeed ancient, they are certainly not simple or delicate.
Many people are entranced by their resilience — just watch how they spring back to full and gloriously green canopies after bushfires.
They also have intricate anatomical and morphological structures, and their evolutionary histories are often complex and poorly understood. This is perhaps, in part, because they have continued to evolve and change right up to the present era.
Time lapse of a resurrection fern growing on an oak tree, where its dried-out fronds unfurl and turn green.
The similarity of ferns in different parts of the world has provided fertile research ground for fern taxonomists trying to accurately distinguish one species from another. Sometimes they discover that ferns on different continents are a single species. On other occasions, ferns that look remarkably alike are distant relatives.
This has been the case with resurrection ferns, members of the genus Cheilanthes. At present there are about 15 known species of Cheilanthes in Australia.
Evolving to tolerate arid environments
There are many plants from unrelated families that fit the description of resurrection plants, which suggests their adaptation has evolved on several separate occasions in response to arid environments.
Some can go without water for up to seven years and return to normal from a fully desiccated state within two days.
The fact that a number of ferns and other primitive plants are resurrection plants is a reminder that the ancient earth they evolved in could be a very inhospitable place. This was long before plants helped make earth the liveable planet we know today.
The rose of Jericho, Selaginella lepidophylla, is a highly desert tolerant resurrection plant unrelated to ferns that can dry until it looks like a tumbleweed before unfurling beautifully with a little water.Shutterstock
How resurrection plants tolerate such low internal moisture levels has wider biological and medical implications, too.
We’re learning from these plants how to improve drought tolerance in crops. And understanding their tolerance of desiccation has been used to improve methods of storage and transport of vaccines and human blood products.
The notion of a resurrection plant growing under dry desert conditions was not unfamiliar to me in the 1970s.
However, the idea of ferns being a resurrection plant seemed distinctly odd, as they are usually water loving and dependent. Resurrection ferns, on the other hand, can remain in a desiccated state for months or even years before they resume growth.
Re-introducing the rock fern
The specimen of Cheilanthes I got to know came from the Grampians in Victoria. Helen and botanist Professor Carrick Chambers named it Cheilanthes austrotenuifolia, or “rock fern”.
As its common name suggests, these small, delicate-looking ferns grow in exposed rock crevices, often in inaccessible places. They only occur in the southern parts of Australia.
Rock ferns can reach about 45 centimetres high and their fronds will be 25cm or less in length. Like many ferns, such as bracken, they grow from an underground rhizome (stem).
Rock ferns often grow in exposed rock crevices in southern parts of Australia.Loraine Jansen/Royal Botanic Gardens Board Victoria 2020, CC BY-NC-SA
It can be quite disconcerting when the fronds die back and disappear completely over summer, only to reappear again when it rains in autumn.
Rock ferns are among the first plants to recover after severe drought and, while they’re really tough and hardy, they’re quite particular about where they grow.
This can be frustrating for those trying to propagate and grow one. You can grow it from pieces of rhizome and from spores, but it isn’t always easy.
This means opportunities to play with a resurrection fern don’t come along all that often. So, with Helen, a number of us disappeared into the laboratory to investigate further.
Our laboratory tests showed it was already photosynthesising. The transition from powder to getting on with living was complete.
Rock fern, Cheilanthes austrotenuifolia, growing in Black Mountain, Canberra.Tim1357/Wikimedia, CC BY
10 years and counting…
Years ago, I planted a piece of C. austrotenuifolia rhizome with a single frond in the heavy clay soil of our garden, between a couple of sizeable basalt rocks. It was never really happy and over its first summer, it disappeared.
Imagine my surprise when about five years later, a couple of ferny fronds appeared. It was back. I immediately thought of Helen.
Over the summer, the fronds died back again and it was gone, until eight years later when another couple of fronds appeared.
It is now about 10 years since we last glimpsed a frond. I am not hopeful about its survival, but you never know.
The Indonesian government appears to be at a loss about how to quell the struggle of the Free Papua Organisation (OPM) with its plan to designate Papuan independence organisations as “terrorist” groups.
Democracy Alliance for Papua (ADP) director Latifah Anum Siregar says that the Counter Terrorism Agency (BNPT) should rethink its proposal to apply the Anti-Terrorism Law before the government makes a decision which will add to tensions in Papua.
“Actually, I think, sorry yeah but perhaps the government is at a loss as to how to handle the TPN [West Papua National Liberation Army] and the OPM,” said Siregar.
“It’s not certain this will bring things under control, it’s not certain that it will make the situation better. So I think that the government has to be more careful in looking at this.
“If the government gives them this definition, it will increase tensions.”
Siregar said there were contradictions in the Anti-Terrorism Law itself.
For example, Article 5 reads, “Terrorist crimes regulated under this law must be considered not to be political crimes”. Meanwhile, what the OPM is doing is fighting for independence politically, not through terrorism.
Amnesty also opposed Speaking in a similar vein, Amnesty International Indonesia executive director Usman Hamid also opposes the discourse being promoted by BNPT chief Boy Rafli Amar.
According to Hamid, this will not stop human rights violations in Papua.
“Classifying armed groups which are affiliated with the OPM as terrorist organisations will not end the human rights violations being suffered by the Papuan people,” he said in a media release.
“Many of these [violations] are being committed by state security forces, it would be better to continue with a legal approach.”
Hamid is also concerned that giving such groups the “terrorist” label would be used as a pretext to further restrict Papuan’s freedom of expression and assembly through the Anti-Terrorism Law.
Earlier, BNPT chief Boy Rafli Amar said that they would hold discussions with ministries and other agencies on the naming of armed criminal groups (KKB) in Papua.
‘Reasonable’ category According to Amar, it was reasonable to categorise the activities of these groups as terrorist acts.
“Whether or not they can be categorised as a terrorist organisation because earlier it was conveyed that it is actually appropriate for the KKB’s crimes to be categorised as or to be on par with terrorist acts,” Amar said during a hearing with the House of Representatives (DPR) on March 22.
Amar also said that aside from ministries and other agencies, the BNPT would be holding discussions with the National Human Rights Commission (Komnas HAM) and DPR representatives.
According to Amar, the discussions would be held to reach an “objective understanding” about these groups.
COVID-19 has an evil sense of humour. Despite Australia being mostly free of community transmission, it managed to spoil Christmas for quite a few Sydneysiders and their families and now it’s struck just before the Easter holidays.
The Brisbane lockdown was lifted but many people cancelled plans, and the Byron Bay Bluesfest was called off.
The latest disruption, though limited, reinforced the importance of rolling out the vaccine as fast as possible.
If you believe Health Minister Greg Hunt, that’s going fabulously – even though we’re way behind the original targets. If you believe the NSW and Queensland governments, and many people’s lived experience, it’s another story.
NSW reacted furiously to Wednesday’s News Corps tabloid report, sheeted home to Hunt, that focused on states failing to get enough shots into arms. Queensland was riled when senior Nationals minister David Littleproud condemned the states for doing “three-fifths of bugger all”.
Federal “spin” and blame shifting were red rags to the two states; NSW health minister Brad Hazzard declared “I’m as angry as I have ever been in this 15 months of war against this virus”. The federal government was criticised for the lumpy and unpredictable distribution of vaccine supplies.
Hunt and Scott Morrison sought to soothe; things calmed somewhat.
Morrison didn’t hide his anger at Hunt and Littleproud for their provocation.
The feds like to say the rollout is “not a race,” because we don’t have a “burning platform” like many countries.
But – apart from the risk of bigger breakouts – the slower the rollout, the longer we endure spot lockdowns, a closed international border, and a brake on the economy.
In the coming weeks and months, Morrison will be grappling with two very tangible issues and another which is much more elusive and for him, especially difficult. They are the rollout, ensuring the economic settings are optimal, and the “women problem”.
The rollout is basically about administration. It should get better. The vaccine shortages will ease with the ramp up of local production. The efficiency on the ground will presumably improve but how fast and to what extent remain open questions. The job will get done, but the October deadline for jabs all round looks beyond reach.
Behind the scenes, another job is in full swing – work on next month’s budget; like the rollout it is complex, albeit in a completely different and much more familiar way.
This budget, like its October predecessor, is being crafted against a backdrop of high uncertainty.
The Australian economy is recovering remarkably well from the COVID recession, climbing back up that V shape. But with JobKeeper ended, and people on JobSeeker receiving less money than before, there are big unknowns. How many businesses will close? How many workers will lose jobs? What will be the economy-wide effect on spending?
The government gets “real time” information; even so, it is framing the budget in rapidly changing conditions. On the positive side, the latest numbers indicate a better fiscal position than at the December update, which had a deficit forecast of just under $200 billion for this financial year.
Economist Chris Richardson, from Deloitte Access Economics, says in preparing the budget the government will need to consider where more “sticky tape” is required (like that already applied to the aviation and tourism industries), and what should be done about the failed JobMaker scheme (which was designed to encourage the employment of younger people).
Richardson also argues the government needs to move towards the Reserve Bank’s position in what it says about unemployment. It has said it won’t make budget repair a priority until unemployment, presently 5.8%, is “comfortably” under 6%. But the bank wants to see unemployment down to 4.5%, which Richardson maintains is the rate the government should be embracing.
The big new spending will be on aged care, with its huge challenges. Hunt took on major responsibility for this in the December reshuffle – the rollout problem must be eating into the attention he can devote to the policy drafting.
The October budget was criticised for not containing enough for women; now Morrison has his new “lens” on them. That comes with the danger of disappointing expectations.
One of Morrison’s many problems in dealing with the women’s issue is that it extends beyond policy although good policies, such as initiatives addressing workplace sexual harassment, are vital.
Since Brittany Higgins’ allegation she was raped by a colleague in a minister’s office, the country has seen the eruption of a social movement that is about feelings, perceptions and attitudes as much as about specific policies.
It is about the behaviour of men – in parliament house, and everywhere else.
While bad behaviour exists on all sides of politics, the recent revelations have mainly been about the Coalition.
Last week saw the spotlight turned on Liberal MP Andrew Laming, accused of trolling constituents and taking an inappropriate photo of a woman. Laming says he won’t seek another term, but Morrison isn’t wanting to banish him to the crossbench, which would wipe out the government’s majority.
Although the allegations against him are far less serious, trenchant critics would say he should follow the example of NSW Nationals MP Michael Johnsen, who has resigned from state parliament after an accusation (which he vehemently denies) that he raped a sex worker.
Another bad week for Morrison could have been worse if parliament had been sitting, when Laming would have been front and centre. But this is only a temporary reprieve: if Laming is still on the government benches come budget week, he’ll be a distraction.
The national debate sparked by Higgins and escalated by the historical rape allegation against Christian Porter – strenuously denied by him – is seeing tough conversations in many Australian households.
It would be fascinating to know what impact it is having on Morrison’s own close-knit family, which is mostly female, including his wife, two young daughters and his mother. We heard early on about Jenny’s advice, but how’s the kitchen table discussion going?
Jacinda Ardern can essentially say “kia kaha” as much as she wants to those at the bottom of the housing market, but it won’t help their plight. Eventually her government is going to have to take state housing seriously as a tool for helping solve the housing crisis – especially for low-to-average income earners, who were ignored in last week’s housing package announcement.
The problem is an ideological one for Labour. Along with National, the Government continues to have faith that “the market will deliver”, albeit with some nudges from the state. They believe that private ownership and landlords will provide affordable housing, and the state need only offer social houses as a miniscule safety net for those in extreme circumstances, and even then only for a fraction of those in desperate need.
There was nothing in last week’s announcement about building more state houses. Although Labour continues to pay lip service to the need for more state housing, it plans only tiny increases in housing stock, which are nowhere near the level of supply that is needed in a crisis. In its first term Ardern’s Government built less than 5000 houses, despite knowing the market is short of about 100,000 houses.
Questions about the lack of state housing in the Government housing package
Yesterday in the Herald, Green MP Chlöe Swarbrick wrote about the limitations of the Government’s housing package, complaining that “Kāinga Ora (by far the most successful house-building arm of the Government, with thousands to its name over the past three years) hasn’t been required to build affordable homes (a term this Government has been unwilling to define), and there’s no mention of new state housing builds” – see: Hard work is no longer enough to get you a home.
Similarly, in Stuff newspapers today, conservative columnist John Bishop says: “The package doesn’t increase the number of houses the state has available for the 22,000 on the state house waiting list. Why not? Surely that is the area of greatest social need. Perhaps these people are not a political priority, although I cannot understand why this would be the case” – see: Are speculators really the problem? Isn’t it the lack of houses?.
At the time of the housing announcement, others also pointed to the lack of state housing. Newstalk ZB’s Heather du Plessis-Allan asked: “So where’s the big idea? Where’s the boldness” – see: Government’s housing announcement is no grand plan. She thought that large-scale state housing should’ve been part of the mix: “Michael Joseph Savage had a grand idea in the 30s. He pumped out 33,000 state houses for people who didn’t have homes. We’re probably due the 2021 equivalent of that.”
According to spokesperson Susan St John, “What is needed is diversion of scarce building resources from high-end housing and renovations to building more state housing.” Her group was “concerned the package includes no serious attempt to accelerate good-quality state house building and to ensure the resources and expertise are available for this.”
The Government’s package was clearly focused on the idea of improving falling rates of “home ownership”, ignoring the cost of housing for those that rent. According to documentary maker Bryan Bruce, in coming up with last week’s package, the Government was asking the wrong question (“How can people get to own a home?”) when it should be “How can we give people security of tenure in a healthy, warm, dry, affordable home?” – see: You can’t get the right answer if you keep asking the wrong question. He argues that many other solutions become apparent when the focus isn’t merely on homeowners.
Meanwhile, the housing crisis for those at the very bottom of the market continues to escalate. On Tuesday Stuff’s Henry Cooke reported on the latest state housing waiting-list figures, saying that “newly released figure of 22,803 represents a rise of over 7000 households from January 2020, and is more than four times the size of the list when Labour was elected in 2017” – see: Public housing waitlist hits new record of 22,803 as new builds slow in January.
Arguments for a mass state house building programme
It is increasingly obvious that nothing short of a mass programme of state house construction is required. I made the case for this late last year, writing for the Guardian – see: New Zealand once led the world on social housing – it should again. Looking back through the history of state provision of housing, I argue that this is the one big tool that governments have successfully used to fix shortages, and that in a historical context, the numbers of social houses being produced by the current government are rather pathetic.
Stuff’s Andrea Vance made a similar case, saying that “the private sector alone has never – and will never – build enough homes”, and we’ve got to get away from the concept of state housing being only for “the desperately in need”, necessitating the Government returning to “housebuilding on a large scale” – see: Why New Zealand needs to change how it thinks about housing.
Here’s her key point: “History shows demand is only ever satisfied with direct state intervention, when the government has built homes on a large scale. Housing is a right: we should think of it in the same way we regard universally available services, like schools, hospitals and public transport. We need a return to more public housing, to provide a safe, warm and secure home for those who do essential work and for younger generations, who have had their property-owning dreams crushed by Covid-19.”
But given the current difficult logistics of ramping up state house building, Trotter advised the Government turn to our biggest trading partner for help: “There is only one place to go looking for this sort of assistance – the Peoples Republic of China. Few nations on earth have a construction workforce large enough to take on such a massive job, but China does. The Chinese have been building infrastructure all over Africa for more than 20 years.”
Interestingly, property developer Bob Jones makes a similar argument in his ongoing support for greater numbers of state housing – see: The Housing crisis.
Prof John Tookey of AUT, who is an expert in construction management, thinks the New Zealand state does in fact have the capability for a mass state house build, and talked about this on RNZ in February – see: No ‘silver bullet’ will fix housing crisis. He argues for the state to do the building, because “sitting waiting just for industry to step up and do the right thing, it doesn’t work that way”, and that “In the end government must bankroll large scale construction”. But he cautions that the Government should avoid state housing “low-density monolithic models of the past.”
Tookey was also interviewed by Susan Edmunds for the article,Govt ‘should focus on state houses, not first-home buyers’. According to this article, the “only way to achieve the outcomes necessary was to get ahead of the market with the development of large tranches of social housing, to maximise economies of scale”.
Founder of KiwiSaver provider Simplicity, Sam Stubbs, is also in favour of a mass state build, saying the Government should look to the past when New Zealand governments had to deal with housing crises: “A rising population needed homes, and the Government stepped in to build them in volume. And they were very well-built. There is a premium paid for old state houses, for good reason. The Government has huge advantages in building to scale. It can make laws, and has the money. So it needs to get on with the job” – see: How to solve the housing crisis.
Business journalist Bernard Hickey takes a similar approach, and earlier this year argued that current rates of state house building “won’t scratch the surface of the 100,000 houses shortage” – see: Q&A: Who is to blame for the housing crisis?.
Hickey also makes this point: “The only entity with a big enough balance sheet to do that is the Government. It needs to guarantee more like 10,000 houses a year for 10 years and ensure most of those are small, medium density and affordable, either as state houses or for rent-to-buy or leasehold on Government land.”
But isn’t the Government already building more state houses?
The Labour Government likes to argue that it is already increasing the stock of state housing and tends to re-announce their building plans often in order to get this idea across. Jacinda Ardern herself often says “This is the largest public housing build programme since the 1970s”, ignoring the fact that state house building since then has been extremely low.
The best answer to all of this comes from the convenor of the State House Action Network, John Minto, who has lays out the facts in his piece, How fast are we building state houses?. He points out that “from 1938 to 1942 the government built 14,000 new state houses – 3,500 per year. The population at that time was 1.6 million… Our population now is five million – three times larger than it was in 1935. So are we building three times as many new state houses each year as we were in 1935? No! In fact each year we are now building less than half the number we built each year from 1938.”
Minto labels the current rate of building “pitiful” and suggests that “If we were to build new state houses from 2021 at the same rate we built them under the first labour government then we would be building 10,500 per year instead of the measly 1600 per year Labour is promising.”
In January, when the Government re-announced its state housing programme, Minto responded: “Yesterday’s government announcement on new state housing is a pathetic response to the biggest housing crisis in New Zealand since the 1940s. At a time when the country needs an industrial-scale state house building programme, the government building just 1,600 new state houses per year – the same number built by National in its last term” – see: Labour government: Prioritising the interests of middle-class landlords over struggling working class tenants.
In contrast, Minto says “The last time we had a housing crisis this big – in the late 1940s – a Labour government built 10,000 state houses per year.”
Similarly, Bernard Hickey says the “trouble is the new supply is actually about half the new supply added in the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s, relative to the population” – see: Will the Government actually ‘do something’ about rising house prices this time?. He says “The state house build programme would need to be closer to 60,000 to bring the stock of state housing back to its early 1970 levels”.
Where would the money come from to fund an expanded state house build?
Huge amounts of money is currently being spent on what economist Shamubeel Eaqub calls “ambulance at the bottom of the cliff stuff”. He is cited today by Brian Fallow pointing to the waste of this money: “At the moment we have something like 3500 in emergency or transitional housing. On average it costs $90,000 a year to keep a household in emergency housing… If we prevented that by spending $50,000 a year we would be better off” – see: Who’ll feel the property pinch from Govt’s tax changes? (paywalled).
This article also reports: “There is something like $70b sitting in KiwiSaver accounts. A lot of those savers would like to see some of that money put to work building things that New Zealand needs, like affordable housing and infrastructure, Eaqub said.”
Writing last week, the Herald’s Simon Wilson lamented that this housing subsidy is ill-spent: “This is a complete failure of the market and of government policies for decades. And it costs us: $3.5b a year, up from $2b just five years ago and still rising sharply. Most of that money helps with the rent. Very little of it contributes to home ownership or any other long-term social good. It doesn’t build homes or communities, it doesn’t create jobs or boost the construction sector. It’s not a strategy to fix the housing crisis. It’s simply money spent to avoid what could become catastrophic social collapse” – see: Five big ideas: How to build our way out of the housing crisis (paywalled).
Wilson believes that these billions of dollars would be better spent by the state building houses, even if those houses are for the private or not-for-profit housing sector.
Bernard Hickey wrote about this in January, suggesting that the Government could actually use this money to build up to 800,000 new homes: “Rent subsidies paid by the central government are forecast to rise from $2.6b last year to $4.2b by 2025. They have already risen from $1.9b over the last four years, Treasury figures show. Just as first home buyers use their rent to calculate how much they could afford to pay in interest, the Government could currently borrow over $400b with that $4.2b of rent subsidies. At $500,000 per dwelling, that $400b would ‘buy’ 800,000 new homes, which would be half the current housing stock of the entire country” – see: The ‘brutal’ catch-22 politics of trying to move to affordable housing.
Finally, for an amusing parody of how New Zealand’s market model of housing is currently working out, see Dave Armstrong’s clever satire,Pride and Property, an Austentatious tale.
One of AUT’s Pacific research centres has been without a director since the end of last year and a lack of clarity around its future is causing division among staff and supporters. Teuila Fuatai reports for The Spinoff.
SINCE 2007, AUT’s Pacific Media Centre has built a considerable portfolio and solid reputation for its research and reporting on issues throughout the Asia Pacific region, and as a training ground for Pasifika journalists and academics.
However, a month after veteran Pacific correspondent and researcher Professor David Robie retired as director late last year, the centre was packed up without any formal notification or explanation to the remaining AUT staff members associated with it.
The move prompted a social media outcry among supporters and regional journalists, who raised concerns about the centre’s closure and the lack of communication from the university.
A photo of the packed up PMC sent to David Robie. Image: Café Pacific
However, in response to queries raised by The Spinoff, AUT’s head of the School of Communications Dr Rosser Johnson denied that the PMC was being closed, and reiterated that the contents of the PMC office had been packed up and relocated to a new space beside other key departments elsewhere in the AUT’s communications department.
“I made the decision that we were going to get all our staff of Pacific heritage in the same sort of place, which is on this [12th] floor,” Dr Johnson said. “We’ve got five staff of Pacific heritage – one won’t be moving because he’s in a department that’s on another floor. The rest are going to come up to here in the School of Communications.”
Dr Johnson also said the decision to relocate the PMC from the space it had always occupied was made by the school’s “senior leadership team”.
Staff connected to the PMC were only notified via email after it was done. Senior lecturer and PMC research associate Khairiah Rahman, said it “would’ve been nice” to have been notified about the shift beforehand.
An AUT staff member for 15 years, Rahman’s involvement with the PMC spans nearly a decade and she is also a member of its advisory board. She said the lack of information to staff members like herself has fuelled concerns about the school’s intentions for the PMC’s future.
She said too that the absence of a succession plan for Dr Robie’s replacement prior to his retirement had been particularly worrying.
“Ideally, [the transition] should be seamless. But Professor Robie retired at the end of last year… and we didn’t have a ready successor. I think it’s not a matter of blame but of strategic planning. Was it up to him [Dr Robie] or was it up to the university?”
Former PMC designer Del Abcede, Former PMC director David Robie
and Tagata Pasifika journalist John Pulu. Image: PMC
According to Dr Robie, he had tried several times to engage with the school regarding a transition plan in the past few years, but nothing had happened. Dr Johnson, however, attributed the delays to the impacts of covid-19.
By September last year, a decision had been made by senior leadership staff “that we weren’t going to do anything new before the end of the year,” he said. The process was delayed again by this year’s lockdowns, he added.
An internal advertisement was circulated among AUT staff over the past week seeking “expressions of interest” for the role of PMC director. Those keen to apply had until Friday March 26.
Chair of the PMC’s advisory board and an associate professor at AUT’s School of Social Sciences and Public Policy, Dr Camille Nakhid, said she was disappointed about the lack of information being offered to staff members like herself. Dr Nakhid also believes the role of PMC director should be advertised externally to attract a range of qualified candidates.
“I understand… we may move things in a different direction, but we do not know what that direction is,” Dr Nakhid said. “We [the board] do wish for a reinvigorated PMC but we are concerned that the direction in which they take it will be to the detriment of the Pacific and Pacific communities and other communities with whom the PMC works.”
Dr Robie, who is the founding editor of the research journal Pacific Journalism Review and continues to publish work through various outlets, has been critical of the treatment of the PMC since his departure from AUT. He is adamant those with long-standing links to the centre – like Dr Nakhid and Rahman – not be sidelined in planning for its future.
“On every parameter, the centre’s done incredibly well,” Robie said. “If they follow through with the team they’ve got, I see a great future.”
A multi-disciplinary research unit, the PMC focuses on media and communication narratives in the Asia Pacific region and has a special focus on communities and journalists that have been marginalised or censored by authorities and power structures.
Prior to its move, the centre also housed a range of outlets enabling students and academics to publish and promote their work, including the award winning Pacific Media Watch, which was co-edited by a journalism student every year and helped foster the careers of Pasifika journalist Alistar Kata and RNZ journalist Alex Perrottet.
Dr Robie himself brought considerable experience to the centre, having lived and worked extensively in Papua New Guinea and Fiji, and covered significant human rights and media abuses throughout the region over a 40-year career.
The PMC had been established as an outlet to continue that work and for journalism students to research and cover regional issues largely neglected by New Zealand’s mainstream media, such as West Papuan human rights abuses and electoral corruption in Fiji.
The PMC Project – a video made by Alistar Star, a former PMC student contributing editor on the Pacific Media Watch internship.
Don Mann, chief executive of the Pacific Media Network which runs 531 PI and Niu FM, said the PMC’s current transition period was an opportunity for AUT to assess other ways it could strengthen Pacific media.
“First and foremost, I think to have an organisation that stands for what PMC was originally set up for – a watchdog organisation that protects the freedom of journalism and its role in the democracy – is very worthy,” he said.
“I think the issue which AUT is possibly facing is whether that’s AUT’s role.”
Moving forward, Mann said a focus on developing Pacific people in media and journalism at AUT would be great to see. The underrepresentation of Pacific people who are experts in their communities in media spaces has been a problem for far too long, he said.
“It would be a really opportune time for AUT to look at a centre of excellence for developing Pacific people in broadcasting, new media, journalism and multimedia.
“You look at where our office, Pacific Media Network, is based in Manukau,” Donn said.
“Within walking distance, we’ve got MIT, AUT and Auckland University. The question I’d be asking if I was in AUT is: What’s our plan to engage with diverse communities? What’s our plan to engage with Pasifika communities? What’s our representation at AUT of Pasifika people? I’d be taking this opportunity to look at all those issues.”
Teuila Fuatai is a freelance journalist specialising in social and cultural issues. This article was first published by The Spinoff and is republished here with the permission of both The Spinoff editor and the author.
Since the coup in Myanmar on February 1, the international community has struggled to agree on coherent action against the military (also known as the Tatmadaw).
Outside the UN, a strong, coordinated response by Myanmar’s neighbours in the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) has also been lacking due to their reluctance to interfere in each other’s affairs. Thai political expert Thitinan Pongsudhirak called it an “existential crisis” for the bloc.
This reluctance, which has now cost the lives of over 500 civilians, rules out the use of military force to stop the violence, peacekeeping operations or even a humanitarian intervention.
It has left the international community with one remaining option for a coordinated response that could change the military’s behaviour: the imposition of economic sanctions. But even this action has been subject to much debate.
Follow the money
General sanctions that try to change the behaviour of authoritarian regimes by damaging their economies have proven problematic in the past. Many leaders have invariably found ways around the sanctions, meaning civilians have disproportionately borne the costs of isolation.
In contrast, targeted sanctions against the specific financial interests that sustain authoritarian regimes have been more effective. These can impose pressure on regimes without affecting the broader population.
This is where the international community has the greatest potential to punish the Tatmadaw.
Since the US and other countries pursued more general sanctions on Myanmar in the 1990s and 2000s — with mixed results — the international community has gained a greater understanding of the Tatmadaw’s transnational revenue streams.
The commander-in-chief of Myanmar’s military, Min Aung Hlaing.Lynn Bo Bo/EPA
In particular, in 2019, the UN Fact-Finding Mission (UNFFM) on Myanmar released a report detailing the diverse Tatmadaw-linked enterprises that funnel revenue from foreign business transactions to the military’s leaders and units.
Researchers have also outlined the Tatmadaw’s dealings in illegal trade in drugs, gemstones, timber, wildlife and human trafficking.
The extent of information on the Tatmadaw’s financial flows shows just how vulnerable the military’s leaders are to international pressure.
Tracking the military’s legal and illegal business dealings makes it possible to identify its business partners in other countries. Governments in those countries can then take legal action against these business partners and shut off the flow of money keeping the junta afloat.
To some degree, this is starting to happen with Myanmar. The US and UK recently decided, for instance, to freeze assets and halt corporate trading with two Tatmadaw conglomerates — Myanmar Economic Corporation and Myanma Economic Holdings Limited. Both of these oversee a range of holdings in businesses that divert revenues directly to the Tatmadaw.
Myanmar’s trading partners can do more
This is only a starting point, though. To tighten the pressure on the junta, targeted sanctions need to be imposed against the full suite of entities identified by the UNFFM. These include groups like Justice for Myanmar and journalists.
The sanctions need to be accompanied by broader investigations into the Tatmadaw’s revenues from illicit trade. To counter this, Human Rights Watch has urged governments to enforce anti-money laundering and anti-corruption measures, including the freezing of assets.
Singapore’s central bank has reportedly told financial institutions to be on the look-out for suspicious transactions or money flows between the city-state and Myanmar. Singapore is the largest foreign investor in the country.
Moreover, for maximum impact, targeted sanctions need to be imposed not just by the West, but by Myanmar’s largest trading partners in the region. This includes Singapore, along with China, India, Indonesia, Japan and Thailand.
Business leaders in these countries have historically had the closest ties with Myanmar’s military and business elites. But their participation in a multi-national targeted sanctions strategy is not out of the question. For one, this would not require direct intervention within Myanmar, something they are loath to do. Imposing targeted sanctions would merely entail enforcing their domestic laws regarding appropriate business practices.
International action is becoming more urgent. Beyond the concerns about the killings of unarmed civilians, there is a larger issue of the violence extending beyond Myanmar’s borders. There are growing fears the crisis could turn Myanmar into a failed state, driving refugee flows capable of destabilising the entire region.
In short, this is no longer an “internal” matter for Myanmar — it is becoming a transnational problem that will affect regional peace and security. The tools are there to stop the financial flows to the Tatmadaw and curtail their operations. It is critical to act before the Myanmar crisis grows into an international disaster.
Australia’s vaccine rollout has so far been overhyped and under-delivered.
The first announcement, in August last year — that Australia had negotiated vaccine deals — set the tone for the rollout of “announceables”. Within hours, this initial announcement unravelled as it became clear it wasn’t a “deal”, but in fact a letter of intent.
The federal government has made vaccine announcements thick and fast since then, with every minor milestone celebrated with media hype. It was only when vaccine announcements had to become actual vaccinations that the public became aware of the chasm between the rhetoric and the reality.
The vaccine rollout has been characterised by four key mistakes, mainly caused by our leaders giving priority to a good political story over good policy.
Bungle 1: the wrong pace
Australians started the year in the happy position of having essentially eliminated domestic transmission of coronavirus. Australia didn’t have the high daily COVID death tolls of other countries, and so didn’t have the same sense of urgency about the speed of the vaccine rollout.
But this relaxed attitude — which federal health minister Greg Hunt called “a marathon not a sprint” — has continued for too long.
The first phase of the rollout included three main groups: hotel quarantine workers, health-care workers, and people in residential aged care.
Vaccination of hotel quarantine workers is especially important because it appears the vaccine protects against both severe disease and, to some extent, transmission. In these circumstances, vaccination of all quarantine workers should have been an urgent first priority. Health-care workers, especially those treating patients with COVID, was a logical second priority.
But given there wasn’t widespread community transmission of the virus, there was probably no reason for the federal government to scramble to vaccinate people in residential aged care early, especially as the vaccine was in short supply.
States should have been allocated all the vaccines to roll out first doses as quickly as possible to workers in hotel quarantine and on the health-care frontline.
On March 22 Hunt announced the second phase, which includes more than six million people, and encouraged people to call their GP to organise a vaccination. He made this announcement knowing Australia didn’t have enough vaccines to meet demand.
GPs hadn’t been warned of the impending tsunami of calls, nor did they know how many doses they would get and when. The federal government didn’t have a robust logistics system to ensure the right doses got to the right places at the right times. GPs were, rightly, extremely angry.
The logistics nightmares continue, with the federal government persistently failing to provide clarity about dose distribution to either states or GPs.
Bungle 3: the wrong model
The federal government has seen the vaccine rollout not as a public health program but as a political issue, complete with the Liberal Party logo on a vaccine announcement. The focus has been on announcables and good news stories, with the glory to shine back on the government in the lead-up to an election.
This focus has meant the government’s initial priority was a rollout through GPs and, later, pharmacies.
Involvement of GPs was the right call — it’s good for doctors to provide a comprehensive range of services to their patients. But reliance on GPs was the mistake.
GP clinics rarely have the space for significant numbers of people waiting to be vaccinated and to be observed after being vaccinated. Mass vaccination requires large centres such as sports venues and town halls.
Delivery of vaccines from the warehouses to states or GPs has been a debacle. Neither the states nor GPs knew from one week to the next how many vaccines they were due, which made planning impossible. GPs booked patients expecting hundreds of doses but got a fraction of that, causing massive extra work to cancel appointments.
States ended up with doses on hand that they haven’t been able to distribute to hospitals, and came under political attack from some members of the federal government. The tension mounted and the behind-the-scenes political disputes came out into the public domain as some states defended their performance.
Bungle 4: the wrong messaging
The federal government’s original plan was to “underpromise and overdeliver”, according to Hunt. But the reverse is a better description of what has played out.
A more logical approach would have been to implement more phases, each with smaller numbers, and to make the phasing consistent with local production by CSL, which aims to manufacture about one million doses per week.
The biggest problem with the relentlessly optimistic political messaging is it makes it harder for the government to admit its mistakes, learn from them, and reset the rollout.
The government should engage with the states, not alienate them.
What’s more, it should set realistic targets to get vaccines into arms as quickly as possible and be prepared to admit when it falls short.
Today’s announcement that Brisbane’s three-day lockdown will be lifted early, at noon today, shows Queensland authorities are on top of their COVID-19 clusters. But we’re not out of the woods yet, with several restrictions in place for the entire state over the next 14 days.
What’s more, we still don’t know exactly how the clusters that lead to the lockdowns in the first place arose. We know the two separate health workers looking after two separate COVID cases at Brisbane’s Princess Alexandra hospital had yet to be vaccinated at the time they became infected. They went on to infect others, with cases spreading across the border into New South Wales.
But were these health workers wearing the correct PPE? Were they infected via airborne transmission? We don’t have the answers. Once we do, we’ll be in a better position to prevent health workers becoming infected and spreading the virus into the wider community in the future.
no unlinked cases of community transmission (although there was one case of community transmission linked to a known case, and who was already in quarantine).
The high rates of testing and absence of unlinked cases are encouraging. But the decision to lift lockdown early also shows how public health decisions are not made purely on the data alone. Easter played a role.
Indeed, Palaszczuk said the decision to lift restructions at noon rather than 5pm was to allow people to get on the road ahead of the Easter long weekend.
Easter church services can now go ahead, albeit with restrictions, and gatherings at home are also permitted, with limits of 30 people.
Today’s ‘pefect case’
Queensland’s single case of community transmission reported today was a nurse; the state’s Chief Health Officer Jeannette Young described her as “the perfect case”.
The nurse acquired her infection at a hen’s party in Byron Bay, NSW, and was a contact of a known case. When she returned to Queensland, Young said the nurse returned a negative test on Monday but was positive when tested again on Wednesday morning. So she was already in quarantine during her infectious period, minimising the risk to the wider community.
Across the border in NSW, there was one new case of community transmission in the 24 hours to 8pm last night, again acquired in Byron Bay.
Some restrictions remain for the whole of Queensland for the next 14 days. Apart from those already mentioned, people across the state will also have to wear masks in supermarkets and on public transport, and stay seated in restaurants and pubs.
I’d imagine people in Far North Queensland might be put out by some of these restrictions, as cases from these recent clusters had not spread there. But one can understand the adoption of the precautionary principle here, and from a practical perspective a simple, unified set of restrictions for the whole state is easier to implement and manage.
Over the next 14 days, there are also restrictions on visits to aged care (other than for end-of-life care). Young said this would be difficult for residents, and friends and family.
But she said this was necessary, as the consequence of an outbreak in such a vulnerable population would be serious. She also said residents at only 56 of the 186 aged-care facilities in the state had been vaccinated.
Young was also concerned about the amount of virus being detected in patients hospitalised with COVID-19. So the risk of transmitting the virus to others in hospital was “extraordinarily high”.
So she said it would now be compulsory for all front-line workers in contact with COVID patients to be vaccinated. Other states may follow suit. This would go some way towards preventing health workers from becoming seriously ill.
Transmission from COVID cases to health workers just shouldn’t have happened. We all understand you can’t prevent virus transmission all the time in high-risk environments. But the transmission of COVID to two health workers points to specific infection-control issues at one hospital.
I hope authorities are looking very closely at how that transmission occurred, so we can better protect health workers and the wider community in future.
As the military junta in Myanmar continues its brutal attempt to subdue nationwide protests following February’s coup, New Zealand-based Myanmar students are keeping in contact with family and colleagues back home.
It is a scary period, with internet services cut for many hours every day, and people disappearing from their homes without explanation.
In Myanmar’s major cities of Yangon and Mandalay, students have been in the front line of pitched street battles with the Tatmadaw (Burmese military) units who have been responsible for around 500 deaths since they deposed the elected government on the morning it was due to begin its second term.
The Tatmadaw have always regarded universities as hotbeds of organised resistance , and university authorities in Myanmar estimate roughly a third of those arrested over the past two months have been students, teachers, or academic staff.
Myanmar’s students have fought the army on the streets many times before, including protests against a military government in 1962, and the vicious conflict in 1988.
In the 1980s, the Tatmadaw employed the same tactics we are seeing again play out – hundreds of civilians killed, and protest leaders imprisoned.
Back then the army moved directly against the universities, stripping them of autonomy and moving campuses to the outskirts of major towns .
Higher education unavailable Many were simply closed altogether and for many years higher education was unavailable in Myanmar.
The country’s immediate future is opaque, but students in New Zealand and Myanmar are determined they will not be heading back to the dark days of the early 1990s.
Zet is a student currently in Mandalay, having completed studies at Victoria University last year, and he is terrified at the way the army is operating.
“There’s been fatalities across the city,” he says, the last few days the military have been on holiday so its been quiet, but the army is like a gang now .. it’s a real struggle between the people and the Tatmadaw.”
“Both sides are standing firm, but the Tatmadaw won’t give up, that’s their history , they don’t give up”…
“The public mood though is very strong, stronger than in the past .. and getting stronger.”
Back in Wellington, Zet’s student colleagues from the Myanmar Students Association are keen to keep up with what is happening on the streets with the protest movement.
Concerned about families But they are also extremely concerned about their families.
Jacqueline Swe says her family is away from any major protest area, but like everybody they are living with the constant fear the army can simply enter their homes and take anything they want.
“It’s a bit terrifying, and its crazy too, we now have the army attacking the people instead of protecting them.”
“We have no line of defence anymore, and we can’t depend on the police and that’s scary.”
“It’s just a big mess now.”
Wayne is from Yangon , and says he has been hearing about the dire conditions in some parts of the city.
“I’m hearing from my mother that the soldiers are chasing kids into strangers homes, they are looking at people’s cellphones on the street to see what social media accounts you control and what’s on there.
New posts deleted “So my mother, whenever she goes out she has to delete any new posts she doesn’t want the army seeing.”
Students in New Zealand are doing what they can to support those on the barricades, and while the junta continues its old-school attempts to root out protest organisers they face a uphill battle against a generation of young people who lived and breathed democracy in Myanmar between 2011 and 2020.
Digital access to a globalised world has exposed Myanmar’s students to updated forms of protest organisation and activism using social media.
While the Tatmadaw may use the 1980s playbook to shut the universities, they may find it harder to erase the foundations of democratic politics which have taken root in Myanmar.
With most major figures in the country’s NLD government now under house arrest, a new grouping, the CPRH, has emerged.
Myanmar’s parallel civilian government, the CPRH or Committee Representing Pyidaungsu Hluttawwas formed by legislators who were removed following the coup. Its spokesperson is Mahn Win Khaing Than, former speaker of the house.
In Wellington, Myanmar-born student Peter is among those suggesting the CPRH must be viewed as the country’s legitimate government.
‘Do not recgnise the junta’ “The most important thing New Zealand could do would be to recognise the CPRH as the legitimate government of Myanmar – and not the junta,” says Peter.
”I know New Zealand has said they won’t work with the junta and I know there are sanctions in place but personally I don’t believe [the sanctions] work in Myanmar.
“I think the primary focus for the [New Zealand] government should be recognising the CPRH.
“ASEAN also plays a role,” says Peter, but South East Asian nations has power in its trade with Myanmar … “those countries need to put more pressure on Myanmar through trade.”
For student Zet in Mandalay, pressure from the outside world still seems to be having a minimal impact on the generals.
“I think it’s quite obvious the Tatamadaw has been relying on China and Russia, partly India as well ..”but international pressure won’t really impact [on] the Tatmadaw I think , unless China would somehow change the game.”
“China is the key to the Tatmadaw, only China can change their behavior.”
What actual change? But what might be the actual change China could force on the junta, apart from convincing the generals to stop killing their own people? … and can Myanmar move back to some sort of democratic model after all the violence?
Peter is among those who see a future role for the NLD, even if it has been accused of not listening to its voters.
“I know the National League for Democracy can have a role in future if they are more inclusive, if they allow more ethnic groups to have a voice,” he says.
Others, like Zet, feel a change might involve a future move to a federal system, where Myanmar’s states run themselves to a large extent, watched over by a central government in Naypyidaw.
Inside Myanmar, student leaders suggest a major nationwide revolt is a possibility, led first by ethnic armies from Myanmar’s restive provinces, and joined by the protesters and other anti-military groups.
NZ-based members of the Myanmar Students Association, exhibit a quiet determination to prevent their country sliding back into a military-induced coma.
“In NZ mostly it’s the older generation that know about this,” says one. “The younger Kiwis need to know more about this.“
Graeme Acton joined the Asia Media Centre as manager in February 2020, moving from the position of foreign news editor with RNZ in Wellington. Hisexperience in media stretches back to the 1980s, and he has held a series of senior editorial positions with RNZ, as chief reporter, Morning Report deputy editor, and regional editor. The article is republished under a Creative Commons licence.
Papua New Guinea’s Prime Minister has warned citizens against relying on information on Facebook to guide their approach to vaccines.
James Marape was speaking after becoming the first person to receive the AstraZeneca covid-19 vaccine in his country.
Australia has provided an initial 8000 vaccine doses to PNG where the total number of confirmed covid-19 cases has climbed by hundreds to 5991 – a rise of 371 by midday on Tuesday.
The death toll has now reached 60.
Faced with vaccine hesitancy in PNG, Marape said citizens should be comforted by evidence in Australia and elsewhere that it is safe for populations to get vaccinated.
“Facebook is not a place where you source accurate information. Look into established literature and data available on what vaccines can do, on what is being done globally,” he said.
“For us, Papua New Guinea, we are beneficial to research already conducted elsewhere, based on best evidence available,” the prime minister explained.
Marape reassures the public After getting the jab himself, Marape sought to assure the public, especially health workers, that the AstraZeneca covid-19 vaccine was safe.
Hundreds of health workers have been infected with covid-19, and Marape said he did not want the country to lose any frontliners.
He said community transmission of the virus was increasingly hampering the health system.
While vaccination was not compulsory, Marape said PNG’s communities must take ownership of fighting the virus.
A nation-wide isolation strategy which commenced this month introduced restrictions on public movement, as well as mandatory mask use and other measures, but adherence had been slack in many areas.
The prime minister indicated that the government could impose further measures to restrict movement of people between villages, towns and provinces,
PNG keeping options open on vaccine access Marape said the government was looking at all options to ensure that covid-19 vaccines were optionally available for Papua New Guineans.
He told reporters his government was working closely with the Chinese government.
PNG’s medical authorities are considering whether to approve China’s Sinopharm vaccine for use in the country, with an announcement expected in the coming week.
Two months ago China announced a donation of 200-thousand doses of the vaccine to PNG.
Marape said PNG was also expecting another million Astra Zeneca doses from Australia, and is looking into other possibilities through the global Covax network.
The latest numbers from the Pandemic Response Controller Papua New Guinea recorded four new covid-19 deaths to Tuesday midday, taking the national toll to 60.
All four deaths were reported in the National Capital District.
Two females aged 19 and 63, with the two men aged 44 and 49.
Most of the deaths, 48, have happened in Port Moresby.
The total number of cases is up to 5,991 – a rise of 371.
Again most in the capital, but also 31 in Morobe, 36 in Western Province and 8 in Bougainville.
There are now covid cases in 20 of PNG 22 provinces.
This article is republished under a community partnership agreement with RNZ.
COMMENTARY:A postgraduate researcher view by Ena Manuireva
Year 2020 was the annus horribilis worldwide due to the deadly coronavirus pandemic. Recently the Fiji government expelled University of the South Pacific vice-chancellor Professor Pal Ahluwalia after his claims in 2020 of financial mismanagement of the university by the former administration, close to the government.
It is still beyond belief that the government should interfere in the matters of an independent academic institution owned by 12 Pacific nations – not just the host country Fiji – and take such draconian and unjustified action against the vice-chancellor.
In New Zealand, across the road at the University of Auckland the management had its fair share of criticism for the purchase of a new house for vice-chancellor Dawn Freshwater at an exorbitant amount, prompting the auditor-general to write that Auckland University broke own rule in purchase of $5 million house.
Here, at Auckland University of Technology (AUT), the investigation into allegations of bullying and sexual harassment started in July 2020 and its subsequent Davenport independent review report legitimately highlighted many shortcomings that the first university of the new millennium in 2000 has failed to address in a timely fashion.
It is clear that the main lesson to be learned was “to be kind” to others, as often heard throughout the covid-19 pandemic by “aunty” Prime Minister Jacinda Arden. The reply from AUT’s vice-chancellor Derek McCormack was even more powerful and along the lines of promising to do better.
We all hope that the issues will be dealt with as swiftly and as diplomatically as possible in order to reinstate the reputation of our youngest university in the Pacific.
Those three events are serious setbacks to the academic realm in our part of the world and whether their effects have been felt locally or globally, they have generated seriously unwanted publicity.
AUT and an on-going saga: the PMC future Following the Davenport recommendations, a seminar was organised by the Pacific Media Centre about future directions – and to say their goodbyes to Professor David Robie, director of the PMC for 13 years, who retired in December.
Students and staff at the Pacific Media Centre office – before closure – in AUT’s Sir Paul Reeves building. Image: Asia Pacific Report
A retired University of the South Pacific development studies emeritus professor, Dr Crosbie Walsh, penned a tribute to David, saying he “has lived in the Pacific, been involved in Pacific human rights and media freedom issues, or taught journalism to Pacific Islanders and others for 40 years. He will be a hard man to replace”.
But that tribute didn’t dispel apprehensions about lack of a succession plan in the School of Communication Studies and the continued questions over the future of PMC more than three months later.
A lot has been commented about the issue of the suddenly empty PMC office (Outcry over signs of upheaval at Pacific Media Centre). Comments and questions still pour in on social media from worried students, sympathisers, television presenters, and former colleagues of the PMC about the whereabouts of this vital repository of knowledge, their new “office” and the future of the PMC team.
Here are sample quotes from two former students:
John Pulu (Tagata Pasifika anchor, TV1): “I just want to say mālō ‘aupito/thank you to Professor David, Del and team for the last 13 years of service at the Pacific Media Centre, AUT University. I hope the great legacy of PMC will be continued from here to help the next lot of broadcasters, journalists and academics who will cover or have interest in the Pacific region.”
Matt Scott (a reporter at Newsroom, TV3): “David Robie and the PMC provided me some of my first opportunities to step into the role of a journalist. Without the PMC, I feel that there will be a void not just at AUT but in journalism as a whole in this part of the world. The centre provides a space and platform for journalists covering an under-reported region that is in dire need of people fighting for truth, fairness and transparency. Removing the centre is a big step backwards.”
Social media reactions from Pacific Media Centre stakeholders and colleagues to the centre’s office closure in early February. Image: FB
Is AUT as a platform for Pacific news broadcasts about to lose its audience? An in-depth article from former New Zealand Herald editor-in-chief Gavin Ellis has magnified many of the issues regarding the relationship that the PMC has with the Faculty of Design and Creative Technologies (DCT), or its School of Communication Studies (SCS).
Or maybe the future of PMC should actually be to break away to survive, as Ellis advocates.
Similarly, a newly published article from Spinoff by Teuila Fuatai recounts the genesis of the issue from March 2020 to post Professor Robie’s retirement in December, highlighting the lack of transparency in this matter and the long awaited appointment of a new director.
For my part and based on the students’ outpouring of support, the worrying issues are twofold: First, is the “partnership” issue raised in an answer by Dr Rosser Johnson, head of the SCS, who presented a 100 percent commitment and the exponential work that would now be able to be accomplished in the new era of the partnership PMC-SCS.
What is missing is the idea of continuity that is being engulfed in what Professor Robie quotes as “regime change” with a determined effort to sideline those who had contributed so much to the development of the centre over the past 13 years.
In his view, this means “no continuity, no institutional memory or history and zero opportunities for the students”.
Second, from the students’ perspective: We have witnessed across New Zealand universities carrying out cost-cutting exercises triggered by the pandemic due to the lack of revenue usually brought in by the international students. However, it is not without legitimate suspicion that PMC might be one of those targets of this financial fix.
It is also the question posed by students who are at the centre of this issue: what about developing our Pacific people in media and journalism? Under representation of Pacific people (and Māori for that matter) who are experts in their communities in media spaces is well documented.
What the PMC has created is a pool of students and contributors who have an invaluable relationship to and inside knowledge of the geopolitical issues surrounding the Pacific basin and the Asian region.
This pool of “grassroots” contributors will certainly add a plus value to the overarching entity, be it a university or an independent institution, in terms of reporting facts.
Ena Manuireva, born in Mangareva (Gambier islands) in Ma’ohi Nui (French Polynesia), is a language revitalisation researcher at Auckland University of Technology and is currently completing his doctorate on the Mangarevan language. He is also a campaigner for nuclear reparations justice from France over the 193 tests staged in Polynesia over three decades.
Students and staff at the 1 December 2020 West Papua day seminar organised by the Pacific Media Centre. Ena Manuireva is in the back row third from the right. Image: Asia Pacific Report
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Cassandra Steer, Senior Lecturer, ANU College of Law; Mission Specialist, ANU Institute for Space, Australian National University
As the Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) celebrated 100 years with a spectacular and well-attended flyover in Canberra yesterday, many eyes were lifted to the skies. But RAAF’s ambitions go even higher, as its motto “through adversity, to the stars” hints. The Chief of Air Force, Air Marshall Mel Hupfeld, announced the intention to create a new “space command”.
Having a dedicated space command will bring Australia into line with Canada, India, France and Japan, all of which recently created similar organisations within their armed forces. Unlike the US Space Force, which is a separate branch of the military in addition to the army, navy and air force, Australia’s space command will oversee space activities across the Australian Defence Force.
Creating a space command is a smart move — but we must be careful to ensure it doesn’t add fuel to a cycle of military escalation in space that has already begun.
We depend on satellites for communications, navigation, banking and trade, weather and climate tracking, search and rescue, bushfire tracking, and more. A conflict in space would be catastrophic for us all.
There is a risk of “space war” because these technologies are also integral to military operations, both in peacetime and during conflict. If you want to take out your enemy’s eyes and ears, you target their satellites — but not with guns, bombs or lasers.
There are many ways in which so-called “counterspace technologies” might threaten those satellites. This might include cyber attacks, dazzling a satellite with low-powered lasers so that it can’t observe Earth, or jamming a signal so a satellite can’t send data to Earth.
Operating in space
The creation of US Space Force under the Trump administration in 2019 raised many eyebrows, and even led to a parody sitcom on Netflix. But while the comedy series had soldiers waging a war with China on the Moon using wrenches, US Space Force has a serious mandate, including the work that had been done for decades by its predecessor, US Space Command.
While the TV version ended in farce in Space Force, the real thing has a serious job.Netflix
Much of that work involves tracking satellites and the estimated 128 million pieces of debris orbiting the Earth, to help avoid collisions that could be fatal to any number of services on which we rely. It also involves protecting US and allied space systems from counterspace threats.
The announcement that Australia will have its own space command is a welcome one in this sense. All three of our armed forces depend on space-based technologies, and centralised coordination is sensible.
We also intend to increase our sovereign space capabilities, as outlined in the 2020 Strategic Defence Update, with A$7 billion dedicated to new space systems, mostly communications satellites. We need to be able to defend those satellites, and Defence needs to have centralised command and control of all government space operations. Australia also needs to be able to coordinate use of, access to, and protection of space with our allies.
Avoiding escalation
We should be extremely wary of designating space a “warfighting domain”. The US is the only country to adopt this nomenclature. It sends a deliberate signal to rivals that any point of conflict can now also be taken into space, or even begin in space.
The US Department of Defense asserts it is only responding to the actions of China and Russia, which have “weaponised space and turned it into a warfighting domain”. For China and Russia, of course, this statement and the creation of US Space Force justify ramping up their own space military programs. An escalating cycle with a potential for conflict in space is underway.
If Australia were to adopt the position that space is a warfighting domain, the most important country we would be sending a signal to would be China. We are far from having sufficient space capabilities to pick or win a fight with China in space. Adopting such a position could also be seen as a breach of the 1967 Outer Space Treaty, which states that space shall be used for “exclusively peaceful purposes”.
Competition is counterproductive
Following the lead of our other allies offers a better path. The NATO countries refused to describe space as a warfighting domain when they debated it at their space summit in 2019. They opted instead to designate space an “operational domain”.
The US Space Force is underpinned by a doctrine of “space superiority”, which is not something to which Australia can — or should — aspire. In fact, a study commissioned by the US Department of Defense itself concludes dominance in space is not crucial to US or allied defence.
This aligns with the arguments made by a range of global experts in a recent publication I co-edited, War and Peace in Outer Space. Seeking to dominate space militarily will likely lead to a counterproductive escalating cycle of competition. If we want to protect our space-based assets and those of our allies, we need to reduce the risk of an arms race, rather than incite one.
Australia should focus on its ability to become an effective diplomatic space power. A new centralised space command can be at the centre of this effort.
PODCAST: Buchanan + Manning on Political Symbolism and How to Spot It
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A View from Afar – Selwyn Manning and Paul Buchanan debate political symbolism and discuss:
How governments use symbolism to accentuate intent and identity. Some of it is fact, and some of it is fiction, some of it is designed to divert attention and deceive.
In this episode Buchanan and Manning show you how to sift through the wheat from the chaff.
Manning says: “Once, former New Zealand prime minister, David Lange, told me… politics is all about theatre!
“Writer and former British intelligence officer, the late John le Carre, famously referred to government smoke and mirrors as… the ‘Theatre of the Real’.
“With this in mind, what can we make of the US-led coalition of countries that are highlighting human rights abuses inside the People’s Republic of China? What’s real, and what’s self-interest? Is it a mix of both?
“And, how does New Zealand Government, and others, handle symbolisms, real and illusion?”
Paul Buchanan also details some examples of political symbolism for us to consider.
We invite you to subscribe to this podcast and to add your views to this discussion:
We invite you to follow and subscribe to this podcast via the podcast platforms and you can also follow up via social media. Here are the links:
Restrictions are in place for at least four council areas around the Byron Bay region after a suite of cases were linked to a Byron hen’s night.
People in Ballina, Byron, Lismore and Tweed have been urged to stay at home, wear masks in shops and on public transport, and stick to the four square metre rule. The number of household visitors is limited to 30.
New South Wales recorded one new locally acquired case of COVID-19 in the 24 hours to 8pm last night — the case acquired in Byron Bay that was revealed yesterday morning.
Suppression at this point is very important. Several factors converge to produce a significant outbreak risk, including that:
the strain involved in this outbreak is reportedly the more infectious variant that emerged in Kent, UK — known as B.1.1.7
the region has a transient population, which complicates contact tracing
it is a holiday destination and holidaymakers tend to visit many places and venues
the region is home to many retirees who are at higher risk
a cohort of local residents follow alternative lifestyles and it’s not clear what impact that will have on testing rates.
The tentacles of this particular outbreak might be more far-reaching, so it is important we take it seriously and get testing numbers up.
We can contain the new variants of concern if we catch outbreaks early, but once the B.1.1.7 strain gets out into the community, it can take off really, really quickly.
People infected with this variant in England were found to pass the virus on to about 14-15% of their close contacts. For the older, “original” strains, it was about 11%.
That means if you had 100 cases with 10 close contacts each (so, 1,000 close contacts), it’s the difference between 110 and 150 cases in the next generation of spread. That’s significant in an outbreak once case numbers rise, and increases the contact-tracing task exponentially over subsequent generations of cases.
Containing this outbreak early will be crucial.
People in Byron Bay are often holiday makers, which presents complexities for a COVID outbreak.Joe O’Brien/AAP
Alternative lifestyles and attitudes to testing
This region is home to a cohort of people who follow alternative lifestyles. Vaccination rates are very low in some areas around Byron Bay such as Mullumbimby, which has been been described as the anti-vaccination capital of Australia.
Being anti-vaccination doesn’t mean you are unconcerned about COVID in the community. But it does signal that you might have different attitudes around testing.
NSW Health has thanked “the community – particularly those in northern NSW – for coming forward in large numbers for testing” so far. NSW usually has high testing rates where outbreak risks have been identified, but testing rates in the Byron Bay area vary, and were often below 25 per day in the lead-up to this exposure event.
It’s a different cross-section of society. It’s possible that people who follow an alternative lifestyle might be less engaged in the screening process that is so crucial in a pandemic. If that happens, we would have blind spots in the community where the virus could be circulating unseen.
If this strain gets into networks where people might be less inclined to get tested, we might not know the virus is out there until it escapes the group.
Now, hopefully, none of this will happen. In many ways, the alternative lifestyle cohort may be the least likely to cross paths with a hen’s party in Byron Bay. But it is a factor that makes this outbreak interesting and potentially challenging for health authorities.
The Byron Bay Bluesfest, which was due to take place over the Easter long weekend, has been cancelled as a result of the outbreak.Jason O’Brien/AAP
We know these groups are vulnerable and, although phase 1b of the vaccine rollout has begun, we don’t have the coverage yet to provide tangible protection.
The other factor is that retirees often have good social networks and time on their hands, encouraging cross-household mixing. If the virus gets into this community, it could spread quite quickly.
Byron Bay and the surrounding hinterland is a well-known holiday destination and transient populations can be a significant factor in an outbreak, especially with numbers building ahead of the now-postponed Blues Festival. They tend to visit restaurants, cafes or parties because they are on holiday.
Holidaymakers often go to a lot to restaurants, cafes or parties.AAP/JASON OBRIEN
Contact tracing can be complicated when people do not know venues well; they might not remember the name of the cafe they went to last week. There’s also the risk someone exposed might have gone home and be incubating the virus unknowingly in another part of the state or country.
That’s why testing is so very important.
Get tested
If you have been to Byron recently, get tested — even if you don’t have symptoms. Anyone in Australia with any symptoms should be tested because you don’t know who might have been to Byron in your area. If you were planning a Byron trip, postpone it.
It is worth watching Byron closely. We want this nuanced containment approach to be effective — but for that to work, we need good testing rates.
Postponing the Blues festival: devastating but the right thing to do
The Blues Festival has been postponed in a terrible coincidence of events — it was going to be one of the first large-scale music festivals in the post-COVID world.
It is devastating for everyone involved in the festival, but what happens in Byron in the next few days and weeks will have ramifications for the rest of the country. There was no COVID-safe way to manage the event, and no choice but to postpone.
University of Canberra Professorial Fellow Michelle Grattan and University of Canberra Vice-Chancellor and President Professor Paddy Nixon discuss the week in politics.
This week Michelle and Paddy discuss Prime Minister Scott Morrison’s cabinet reshuffle, an attempt to be seen as taking action of the problems presented by cabinet ministers Christian Porter and Linda Reynolds – despite the ongoing problem of disgraced MP Andrew Laming. The pair also discuss the ALP National Conference, some of the policy announcements, and the differences this year due to the virtual nature of the conference.
In the passionate debate over the treatment of women in workplaces, and particularly the extent of violence and harassment, the voice of Indigenous women, especially those living in isolated communities, has gone largely unheard.
Linda Burney, speaking at the ALP’s National Conference this week, strongly advocated for equality and opportunity for all in Australia. She called for a constitutionally-enshrined voice for First Nations people in parliament, commitment to realising the Uluru Statement in full, and a renewed focus on ‘truth-telling’.
As Shadow Minister for Families and Social Services, and for Indigenous Australians, Burney joins the podcast to discuss the voice of Indigenous people, especially in light of the current cultural movement.
Domestic violence against women in Indigenous communities is a serious issues – a 2018 report by the Australian Institute for Health and Welfare assessed Indigenous women as 32 times as likely to be hospitalized due to family violence as non-Indigenous women.
Burney sees the abuse partly in historical terms.
“Think about the Stolen Generation…so many women that were removed were sexually assaulted and ended up in dreadful situations. Now they became mothers, and those mothers became mothers, and that trauma is handed down.”
Burney calls for change on at a “local community level”
“The Aboriginal women that I speak to don’t necessarily want this to end up with a man with a criminal conviction and the possibility of going to jail.
“What they want to see is for the violence to stop and for men to get help. And where I’ve seen domestic violence programmes in the Aboriginal community that are really successful, is at a local community level. Because the community has to own the problem, before it’s dealt with.”
And what about the attitude of Indigenous men?
“I don’t think aboriginal men are resistant to change. We have in the Aboriginal community a very strong movement in terms of mens’ groups.
“Men realise that there is a problem. They realise that they’re part of the problem. But we have to find ways to make them part of the solution as well.”
New Zealand Parliament Buildings, Wellington, New Zealand.
Editor’s Note: Here below is a list of the main issues currently under discussion in New Zealand and links to media coverage. Click here to subscribe to Bryce Edwards’ Political Roundup and New Zealand Politics Daily.
Earth is an amazing planet. As far as we know, it’s the only planet in the universe where life exists. It’s also the only planet known to have continents: the land masses on which we live and which host the minerals needed to support our complex lives.
Experts still vigorously debate how the continents formed. We do know water was an essential ingredient for this — and many geologists have proposed this water would have come from Earth’s surface via subduction zones (as is the case now).
But our new research shows this water would have actually come from deep within the planet. This suggests Earth in its youth behaved very differently to how it does today, containing more primordial water than previously thought.
How to grow a continent
The solid Earth is comprised of a series of layers including a dense iron-rich core, thick mantle and a rocky outer layer called the lithosphere.
But it wasn’t always this way. When Earth first formed about 4.5 billion years ago, it was a ball of molten rock that was regularly pummelled by meteorites.
As it cooled over a period of a billion years or so, the first continents began to emerge, made of pale-coloured granite. Exactly how they came to be has long intrigued scientists.
Earth comprises a core, mantle and outer crust.Shutterstock
To make granitic continental crust capable of floating, dark volcanic rocks known as basalts have to be melted. Basalts, which are formed as a result of melting in the mantle, would have covered Earth when the planet was starting out.
However, to make continental crust from basalt requires another essential ingredient: water. Knowing how this water got into the rocks at enough depth is key to understanding how the first continents formed.
One mechanism of taking water to depth is through subduction. This is how most new continental crust is produced today, including the Andes mountain range in South America.
In subduction zones, rocky plates at the bottom of the ocean chill and become increasingly dense until they’re forced under the continents and back into the mantle below, taking ocean water with them.
When this water interacts with basalt in the mantle, it creates granitic crust. But Earth was much hotter billions of years ago, so many experts have argued subduction (at least in the form we currently understand) couldn’t have operated.
Long linear mountain belts such as the Andes contrast starkly with the structure of the granitic crust preserved in the Pilbara region of outback Western Australia.
This ancient crust viewed from above has a “dome-and-keel” pattern, with balloons (domes) of pale-coloured granite rising into the surrounding darker and denser basalts (the keels).
Satellite images of the Pilbara Craton, Western Australia. Pale-coloured granite domes are surrounded by dark-coloured basalts.Google EarthA very simplified cross section of a dome-and-keel structure.Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA
But where did the water needed to produce these domes come from?
Tiny crystals record Earth’s early history
Our research, led by scientists at the Geological Survey of Western Australia and Curtin University, addressed this question. We analysed tiny crystals trapped in the ancient magmas that cooled and solidified to form the Pilbara’s granite domes.
These crystals, made of a mineral called zircon, contain uranium which turns into lead over time. We know the rate of this change, and can measure the amounts of uranium and lead contained within. As such, we can obtain a record of their age.
Zircon crystals grown in an ancient magma.
The crystals also contain clues to their origin, which can be unravelled by measuring their oxygen isotope composition. Importantly, zircons that crystallised in molten rocks hydrated by water from Earth’s surface have different compositions to zircons that formed deep in the mantle.
Measurements show the water required for the most primitive ancient WA granites would have come from deep within Earth’s mantle and not from the surface.
Chris Kirkland (left) and Tim Johnson loading samples into a secondary-ion mass spectrometer, which shoots a beam of ions into zircon crystals to determine their age and oxygen isotope composition.
Is the present always the key to the past?
How the first continents formed is part of a broader debate regarding one of the central tenets of the physical sciences: uniformitarianism. This is the idea that the processes which operated on Earth in the distant past are the same as those observed today.
Earth today loses heat through plate tectonics, when the ridged lithospheric plates that form the planet’s solid, outer shell move around. This helps regulate its internal temperature, stabilises atmospheric composition, and probably also facilitated the development of complex life.
Subduction is one of the most important components of this process. But several lines of evidence are inconsistent with subduction and plate tectonics on an early Earth. They indicate strongly that our planet behaved very differently in the first two billion years following its formation than it does today.
So while uniformitarianism is a useful way to think about many geological processes, the present may not always be the key to the past.
There has been a lot of talk lately about the need for cultural change in Parliament House. While that is incontestably necessary, there needs to be a cultural change in the media too.
The central power of the media is the power to portray. Portrayal through the media creates the pictures in our heads about people, events, ideas and organisations beyond our personal knowledge.
In his classic book Public Opinion, published in 1922, the American journalist and political philosopher Walter Lippmann wrote eloquently about this form of media power and its effect in creating stereotypes.
Stereotypes take root as deeply in the minds of journalists as anywhere else. They come in handy for reporters and sub-editors under pressure to produce and publish under tight deadlines, and find expression through cliché, word-association and puns.
So it was that Sydney’s Daily Telegraph ran a headline on the story of Scott Morrison’s cabinet reshuffle saying:
Fair go for fairer sex as PM shuffles deck.
The portrayal of women as the “fairer sex” – embodiments of chastity and gentleness – is one of the most enduring stereotypes in Western culture. It can be traced back to the Gothic ideal of courtly love.
Today it is, at very least, condescending. It perpetuates the stereotype of women as powerless creatures needing protection or deserving reverential deference.
Given contemporary levels of violence against women and their treatment as sexual objects, it reveals a complete lack of reflective thought about the experiences of women who have been victims of violence and violation.
Words, portrayal, stereotypes: their interconnections shape culture, culture shapes attitudes and attitudes influence behaviour.
However, the media’s response to the crisis engulfing the government is not confined to thoughtless headlines and reflects far worse problems.
These were illustrated by the deliberate ravings of an Adelaide commercial radio broadcaster, Jeremy Cordeaux, sacked after referring to Brittany Higgins as “a silly little girl who got drunk”.
The fact that he was sacked is perhaps a sign that some in the media have grasped a shift in community standards concerning the portrayal of women.
When another shock jock, Sydney’s Alan Jones, proposed in 2011 that the then prime minister, Julia Gillard, be thrown out to sea in a chaff bag, he sailed through the ensuing storm undisturbed, although his show’s advertising revenue fell away.
The wave of outrage over the treatment of women in federal parliament is also putting internal strain on the media.
There has been a significant change over the past 20 years in the gender balance of the Canberra press gallery.
When the journalist and author Margaret Simons wrote a monograph, Fit to Print: Inside the Canberra Press Gallery in 1999, she referred to a class of senior journalists there as “God correspondents”. There was just one woman in this pantheon: Michelle Grattan.
Today, she might also include Laura Tingle, Katharine Murphy, Karen Middleton, Samantha Maiden from within the gallery, as well as Leigh Sales and Louise Milligan from outside who contribute influential coverage of national politics.
There are plenty of senior male correspondents too, but the shift in the gender balance at the top is there to be seen.
The headline read: “PM caught in crusade of women journos”; the sub-heading “Anger at the government over the abuse of women is being led by a powerful group of female journalists”.
Not only was this a clear focus on the gender of gallery members, but it suggested women in the gallery were using their position to promote a feminised political agenda.
However, it soon became obvious that the real target of the article was news.com.au’s Samantha Maiden. It was her run of scoops, the article said, that had left the Morrison government in disarray.
The article went on to portray Maiden as a difficult colleague, and even trespassed on the privacy of her health. It belittled her as “a woman making a professional comeback” – from what we are left to guess.
It was written by a man described in the byline as “senior correspondent”.
Whether the Canberra press gallery is fracturing along gender lines over the issue of violence against women is an interesting question, not because it is about journalists but because it would have implications for the choices made by them about what stories to prioritise and how to tell them.
That in turn would influence the words, images and stereotypes coming out of the gallery, with consequences for how the voting public might respond.
An Essential Media poll taken for The Guardian Australia and published on 30 March showed Morrison’s approval rating among women voters has fallen 16 points since the Higgins story broke in February, while his standing with male voters has remained unchanged.
Easter can be a challenging and anxious time for children with food allergies and their families.
First, there are the foods we commonly associate with Easter — chocolate and hot cross buns. Then, Easter is a time when families and friends come together. So celebrations at home, at daycare or at school can include a spread of other foods containing common allergens, including dairy, eggs, peanuts and tree nuts.
However, there are many things parents and educators can do to help make Easter safe and inclusive for children with food allergies and their families.
Food allergies and related hospital admissions among Australian children have increased significantly since the 1990s. Some 11% of one-year-olds and 4% of pre-schoolers have a diagnosed food allergy. One study in the ACT showed one in 30 children starting school had a severe nut allergy.
Nine foods cause the vast majority of allergic reactions in Australia: cow’s milk, eggs, peanuts, tree nuts (such as cashews and walnuts), soy, sesame, wheat, fish, and shellfish (such as prawns and crab).
Allergic reactions can range from mild, such as watery eyes or itchiness, to anaphylaxis, the most severe form of allergic reaction. Anaphylaxis involves breathing difficulties and can be life-threatening.
How do allergies affect families?
A food allergy doesn’t just affect the child; it can have a psychosocial effect on the whole family.
Fear of a severe allergic reaction may drive parents and caregivers to exclude children from special events and celebrations, such as school camps, excursions, or birthday parties. Some parents also stop sending their child to school.
They may be concerned life-saving medication (such as the adrenaline auto-injector EpiPen) may be delayed or not available, or worry their young child may not be able to resist temptation, particularly when their friends offer food. This might be because children with allergies are afraid of being labelled “different” or they don’t understand the risk.
In the words of one review study, for affected families, social events can “have a different meaning […] giving rise to feelings of exclusion and difference”.
Parents worry about their children sharing food or accessing life-saving medication.Shutterstock
It’s important children are included
Celebrations can help to foster friendships, family relationships, and are vital for children’s socio-emotional development and well-being. So, children should not be left out or excluded from celebrations and events because of their allergy.
Other children also benefit when children with additional needs are included. They can learn to appreciate and develop empathy and tolerance for differences — traits that need to be nurtured in children in the early years.
Take the focus off food when celebrating Easter by organising a non-food Easter egg hunt, such as for stuffed bunnies or toys, or other activities like Easter-themed arts, crafts, and dress-ups. However, craft items including eggshells, egg cartons, milk cartons, peanut butter jars and lids may still pose an allergy risk
consider non-food treats for all children, such as stickers or story books
if you’ve invited a child with allergies, ask their parents to provide alternative, allergy-safe treats for their child if food treats are to be distributed to other children. Sometimes, parents of the child with a food allergy offer to provide the same treats for everyone so their child is not getting something different (always check with other parents of children with food allergies first)
if you’re an educator, check parents are happy for you to give food treats to the child with a food allergy, after reading ingredient labels, and after following a strict process developed with the family. Look for hidden ingredients in packaged foods and understand what each label means. For example, whey is a protein in cow’s milk and a child with cow’s milk allergy needs to avoid it. Encourage all children to eat Easter loot at home so parents can check ingredients
encourage all children to wash their hands before and after eating. Peanut protein, for example, can last on hands for three hours after eating. Hand washing with soap, not just water, can help reduce the risk of cross-contamination
make sure children know they must not share food or drink bottles
if a child shows signs of an allergic reaction, parents and educators should follow instructions in the child’s individual allergy management plan. So, make sure your child has one, it is up to date, and people know what to do in an emergency.
With some planning, empathy and a management plan, Easter can be a joyful and safe celebration for children with food allergies and their families.
The resurgence in humpback whale populations over the past five decades is hailed as one of the great success stories of global conservation. And right now, the federal Department of Agriculture, Water and the Environment is considering removing the species from Australia’s threatened list.
But humpback whales face new and emerging threats, including climate change. Surveying whales is notoriously hard, and the government has not announced monitoring plans to ensure humpback populations remain strong after delisting. We need a plan to keep them safe.
Australia’s whale season is about to begin. Each year between May and November, the mammals migrate north along Australia’s coastline from their feeding grounds in Antarctica to warmer waters. There, they breed before returning south.
So now’s a good time to take a closer look at the status of this iconic, charismatic species.
The resurgence of humpback whales is one of conservation’s greatest success stories.Shutterstock
A host of threats
Humpback whales live in every ocean in the world, and have one of the longest migrations of any mammal.
Humpback whale numbers dwindled as a result of commercial whaling, which in Australia began in the late 18th Century. Whaling and the export of whale products was Australia’s first primary industry. Between 1949 and 1962 Australia’s whalers killed about 8,300 humpback whales off the east coast, until only a few hundred were left.
The International Whaling Commission banned humpback whaling in the Southern Hemisphere in 1963. By then, humpback populations had fallen to about 5% of pre-whaling numbers. In the years since, some whaling continued, but has now largely ceased.
Today humpback whales face new threats. These include:
underwater noise which interferes with whale communication
pollution
vehicle collisions
getting caught in fishing gear
over-harvesting prey such as krill
marine debris
habitat degradation
climate change.
In particular, the effects of climate change – such as warming waters, shifting currents and ocean acidification – may affect the availability of prey that humpback whales need to survive.
Combined, these worsening threats could disrupt humpback whales’ recent resurgence. Indeed, under one scenario, scientists predict the increase Australia’s humpback numbers could stall — or worse, start declining – in the next five to ten years.
A humpback whale calf caught in a fishing net.SeaPix, Author provided
The humpbacks’ plight
According to the federal government’s delisting assessment, humpback whales’ strong recovery suggests current threats are not a risk to the population. But this assessment has shortcomings.
It states humpback whales on Australia’s east and west coast have reached, or are exceeding, the original population size – increasing by 10-11% a year over the past decade or longer.
But this information is based on models using data collected prior 2010 for Australia’s west coast, and prior to 2015 for the east coast. This data isn’t readily available to the public and does not include recent population trends.
The predicted population growth from these models doesn’t account for current and future impacts from major threats, including climate change. This is despite recent research and observations suggesting changes in the humpback population.
For example, 2019 research showed potential shifts in calving locations, with newborn humpback whales now frequently spotted outside Australian tropical waters. This — along with the early arrival of migrating humpback whales in Australia in the past years — may be a first sign of changes in breeding and migration habits.
It’s also important to compare humpback whale populations in Australia with those elsewhere, such as in the North Pacific. There, calving rates are declining, and whale abundance and distribution is showing marked shifts. The risk of entanglements with fishing gear is also rising.
Whales can get caught in fishing gear.Todd Burrows, Author provided
The problem with counting whales
The pre-whaling population size of humpback whales on the east and west coast of Australia is thought to be between 40,000 and 60,000. But information is limited and the actual number may have been much higher
Today, the estimated numbers from population models are similar: roughly 28,000 on the east cost and up to 30,000 on the west coast. But counting humpback whales accurately is very difficult. For example, on the east coast of Australia humpback whales frequently move between populations and during a census may not be attributed to their original population.
What’s more, conditions prior to whaling are not comparable with today’s conditions. Krill is a major food source for whales, and widespread whaling in the Southern Hemisphere caused krill numbers to increase. Research from 2019 suggests humpback whales’ fast recovery after whaling ceased may have been due to widely available krill.
But krill numbers have declined or their availability has shortened in recent years due to threats such as climate change and industrial fishing.
Every year humpback whales migrate from Antarctica where they feed, to breed in Australia.Shutterstock
Proceed with caution
Humpback whales off Australia’s coast will continue to have some protection under the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act, even if they’re taken off the threatened species list.
Generally, all marine mammals are protected in Australian waters. But getting delisted means fewer resources devoted to their protection.
Forecasting the complex interactions of today’s threats, in order to predict tomorrow’s humpback whale populations, is challenging. A cautionary approach should therefore be taken.
In 2016, the US delisted some humpback whale populations. But before doing so, it established a ten-year monitoring plan to track population changes, threats and species abundance.
If Australia proceeds with the delisting, it should follow the US’ lead. Humpbacks whales should remain listed for another five years so a monitoring plan can be developed. Federal and state governments must invest resources into this process, and react swiftly if changes are detected.
A number of whale researchers and organisations concerned about the humpback whale delisting, including the author, prepared a detailed response to the proposal here.
