While Australians were distracted last week by Melbourne’s lockdown ending and the final days of the Queensland and United States elections, both major parties joined forces in federal parliament to weaken political donations laws.
This will make it easier for federal politicians to accept secret donations from property developers.
What’s the backstory?
In 2019, the High Court upheld Queensland laws banning property developers from making donations to political parties. The ban was introduced by the Palaszczuk government after a recommendation by the state’s Crime and Corruption Commission.
The Queensland ban applies to donations made to state and local political campaigns as well as general donations to political parties. A general donation might be used for federal, state or local political purposes or for the costs of running a party.
At the same time, the High Court also struck down a 2018 federal law that said property developers could ignore state laws banning them from making general donations to political parties. (Yes — federal parliament really did pass a law overriding state anti-corruptionpowers!). The High Court said federal parliament has no power to regulate political donations that merely “might be” used for federal campaigns.
Property developers are also banned from making political donations in New South Wales and the ACT.
Allowing secret donations from dodgy donors
The legislation passed last week overrides state bans on property developer donations in two ways.
First, the legislation introduces a new provision to replace the 2018 federal law struck down by the High Court. This new provision allows property developers (and others banned from making donations under state laws) to ignore state laws banning them from making political donation where the donation is “for federal purposes”.
The High Court struck down a federal law on donations in 2019.Lukas Coch/AAP
Second, the legislation allows property developers and political parties to ignore state laws requiring that donations be disclosed. In NSW and Queensland, donations of $1,000 or more need to be disclosed. Under the new federal law, only donations of $14,300 or more made by property developers “for federal purposes” need to be disclosed.
The explanation given for the new laws is that state laws shouldn’t apply to federal donations.
According to Finance Minister Mathias Cormann, the new laws “better clarify” the interaction between federal and state electoral laws.
The revised provisions ensure that federal law only applies exclusively to donations that are expressly for federal purposes, while fully respecting the application of state laws to amounts used for state purposes.
Labor’s Don Farrell, who is shadow Special Minister of State, told the Senate,
it’s not Labor’s intention in any way to weaken any of those provisions already in place in the states, but the Commonwealth parliament should be able to make laws with respect to Commonwealth elections, and those laws should not be overridden by the states.
Why this is bad for integrity
If you are a property developer wanting to curry favour with the NSW Labor Party or the Queensland Liberal National Party, you are now allowed to make a donation of $14,299 and no one will ever know. All you need to do is tell the party the money is “for federal purposes”.
While the law requires parties to keep money donated “for federal purposes” in separate bank accounts, a donation “for federal purposes” frees up money from other, general donations to be used for state purposes.
The Greens and independent MPs lined up to criticise the new law. As member for Indi, Helen Haines told parliament
this bill locks in the status quo when it comes to the current political donations culture at the federal level.
Meanwhile, Tasmanian lower house MP Andrew Wilkie described the law as allowing “brazen money laundering”. Senator Jacqui Lambie said the law was “a doozy” of a way “to hide big donor money from the voters” and “the latest in a long line of betrayals of the public’s trust”.
Federal integrity laws are too weak
Federal parliament had an opportunity to introduce better federal political transparency measures. They could have lowered the federal donations disclosure threshold so the public knows where federal politicians get their money. They could have introduced real-time reporting of donations so the public doesn’t have to wait until after each election to find out the identities of the biggest donors.
Labor has introduced bills on both these measures. Instead of dealing with those, both major parties took the time and effort to override state anti-corruption laws.
To add icing on top, the Morrison government has now released a draft bill for a federal integrity commission with proposed powers so much weaker than existing state anti-corruption commissions that a former judge called it a “feather duster”.
The US has already seen record early voting in the presidential election, with more than 100 million people casting ballots before election day.
Now, the counting begins. With a variety of differences in when early votes and mail-in ballots can be tallied, as well as different closure times for polling places, the results will trickle in throughout the day (and evening).
We’ll be regularly updating this article as data becomes available and relying on The Associated Press to call individual state races.
There are plenty of other races being contested around the country, including, most importantly, the Senate. More than a third of the Senate seats (35 out of 100) are being contested — and the Democrats have a good chance of taking back control from the Republicans.
Of the 35 seats, the Republicans are defending 23 and the Democrats 12. The Democrats need a net gain of three seats to control the Senate if Joe Biden wins the presidency, and a net gain of four seats if Donald Trump is re-elected.
In an open letter, more than 1,200 academics from universities and institutes across Australia have written to the Victorian government to protest against the destruction of Djab Wurrung country as part of a highway duplication in the west of the state.
The letter follows the removal of the Directions Tree last week. The signatories listed below are both Indigenous and non-Indigenous.
We are Australian academics* writing to condemn the destruction of the 350 year-old sacred Djab Wurrung Directions Tree at the hands of the Victorian government. We call on the government to urgently halt works and protect the remaining Djab Wurrung trees and land from destruction.
We are historians, geographers, lawyers, criminologists, sociologists, scientists, anthropologists, social workers, linguists, archaeologists, artists, architects, philosophers, psychologists and other academics from universities around Australia. We have come together in our sorrow and anger at the colonial violence currently being perpetrated by the Victorian government against the Djab Wurrung people, and against all First Nations people in Australia.
While all trees hold value, especially in a climate crisis, the Djab Wurrung trees are so much more than “just trees”; they are living entities with significant historical, cultural and spiritual value and meaning. They are part of an important songline, and have been physically shaped by hundreds of years of First Nations culture and ceremonial practice.
Take the Directions Tree, for example, which was cut down with a chainsaw last week, and carted away unceremoniously on the back of a dump truck. This massive and strikingly beautiful 350-year-old Yellowbox tree with distinctive swirling bark, had been planted as a seed with the placenta from a Djab Wurrung child’s birth and its branches actively shaped and directed over time.
It would have been difficult to look at this tree — to truly bear witness to it — without forever changing the way one understands trees, our interconnectedness with nature, and the strength, depth, beauty and longevity of First Nations culture.
Consider too, the Birthing Tree, also known as a Grandmother Tree, estimated to be 800 years old and currently under imminent threat of destruction. She has a hollow at her base where over 50 generations of Djab Wurrung babies have been born, the fluids from their births merging with the root system and literally becoming part of the tree.
Sean Paris
Nearby, and leaning towards it, is the Grandfather Tree, believed to have been planted at the same time and connected via underground root systems. And surrounding them both are hundreds of other significant trees and artefacts, many of which are yet to be formally documented.
The Victorian government’s decision to clear this sacred Djab Wurrung land to make way for a particular version of highway re-routing that will save drivers two minutes travel time, is completely unnecessary. It represents the ongoing violence of our colonial state and its contempt for First Nations culture and people. It makes any talk of a Treaty with First Nations Victorians completely disingenuous.
We, as academics, therefore condemn the cutting down of the Directions Tree and the planned destruction of further sacred trees and artefacts. We condemn the timing of the destruction, under the cover of ongoing COVID rules, preventing defenders from traveling to the site, and under the cover of media and public focus on Melbourne’s long-awaited easing of lockdown.
We condemn the Victorian government’s apparent attempts to create doubt about which tree was destroyed and its significance, and to imply agreements with one group of government-recognised stakeholders amounted to respectful consultation. And we condemn the use of police and security to violently evict the peaceful Djab Wurrung Embassy, which was established by local elders to protect the site.
We urge the Victorian government to take up one of the other options for highway improvements that do not involve further destruction of this significant site, to urgently have these trees recognised as the culturally significant entities they are, and to enable the Djab Wurrung people to continue protecting them for future generations.
*The views expressed in this letter are those of the signatories and not their universities or institutions.
Open letter signatories
Professor Aileen Moreton-Robinson, Indigenous Studies, RMIT University
Professor Irene Watson, Law, University of SA
Professor Bronwyn Fredericks, Education and Health, University of Queensland
Dr Vicki L Couzens, Media, RMIT University
Dr Gary Foley, History, Victoria University
Tiriki Onus, Fine Arts and Music, University of Melbourne
Dr Lou Bennett AM, Social and Political Science, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Chelsea Bond, Social Sciences and Health, University of Queensland
Alison Whittaker, Law, University of Technology Sydney
Amanda Porter, Law, University of Queensland
Kim Kruger, Moondani Balluk Academic Centre, Victoria University
Professor Bronwyn Carlson, Indigenous Studies, Macquarie University
Professor Gregory Phillips, Indigenous Health, Griffith University
Professor Peter Anderson, Education, Queensland University of Technology
Professor Yin Paradies, Sociology, Deakin University
Dr Ali Gumillya Baker, Indigenous and Australian Studies, Flinders University
Associate Professor Leesa Watego, Business, Queensland University of Technology
Associate Professor Sana Nakata, Political Science, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Sandy O’Sullivan, Indigenous Studies, University of the Sunshine Coast
Dr Nikki Moodie, Sociology, University of Melbourne
Dr Sharlene Leroy-Dyer, Aboriginal Studies, University of Queensland
Dr Anthony McKnight, Education, University of Wollongong
Dr Summer May Finlay, Public Health, University of Wollongong
Dr Suzi Hutchings, Anthropology, RMIT University
Dr Tess Ryan, Leadership and Research Pathways, Australian Catholic University
Dr Danièle Hromek, Indigenous Design, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Crystal McKinnon, Social and Global Studies, RMIT University
Dr Jessa Rogers, Indigenous Studies, Macquarie University
Dr Julia Hurst, Aboriginal History, University of Melbourne
Aleryk Fricker, Indigenous Education, RMIT University
Ashley Perry, Indigenous Culture and Visual Art, University of Melbourne
Brett Biles, Indigenous Health, University of NSW
Cammi Murrup-Stewart, Aboriginal Wellbeing, Monash University
Catherine Doe, Indigenous Studies, RMIT University
Charlotte Franks, Indigenous Education, RMIT University
Dale Rowland, Psychology, Griffith University
Dominique Chen, Indigenous Studies, University of Queensland
Eddie Synot, Law, Griffith University
Emma Gavin, Indigenous Knowledges, Swinburne University
Aileen Marwung Walsh, History, Australian National University
Eugenia Flynn, Literary Studies, Queensland University of Technology
Holly Charles, Law, RMIT University
Jacynta Krakouer, Social Work, University of Melbourne
Jason Brailey, Indigenous Education, RMIT University
Latoya Rule, Social Work and Social Planning, Flinders University
Lewis Brown, Indigenous Education, RMIT University
Luke Williams, Science, RMIT University
Maddee Clark, Literature, University of Melbourne
Michael Colbung, Education, University of Adelaide
Mykaela Saunders, Indigenous Studies, University of Sydney
Natasha Ward, Indigenous Education and Research, RMIT University
Nicole Shanahan, Indigenous Education, RMIT University
Robyn Oxley, Criminology, Western Sydney University
Stacey Campton, Indigenous Engagement, RMIT University
Natalie Ironfield, Criminology, University of Melbourne
Neika Lehman, Film and Media, Anthropology, RMIT University
Dr Aaron Collins, Medicine, University of Melbourne
Aaron Magro, History, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Abby Mellick Lopes, Design, University of Technology Sydney
Adam Crowe, Geography, Curtin University
Adam Spellicy, Media, RMIT University
Dr Adam Starr, Music, Melbourne Polytechnic
Associate Professor Adele Wessell, History, Southern Cross University
Dr Adrian Farrugia, Sociology, La Trobe University
Agata Pukiewicz, Legal Studies, Australian National University
Dr Aidan Craney, Anthropology, La Trobe University
Ainslee Meredith, Conservation, University of Melbourne
Dr Ainslie Meiklejohn, Humanities, Griffith University
Aisha Malik, Humanities, University of Sydney
Emeritus Professor Alan Rumsey, Anthropology, Australian National University
Associate Professor Alana Lentin, Humanities, Western Sydney University
Dr Alana Piper, History, University of Technology Sydney
Alana West, Sociology, University of Technology Sydney
Professor Alex Broom, Sociology, University of Sydney
Alex Cain, Philosophy, Monash University
Dr Alex Gawronski, Art, University of Sydney
Dr Alex Hansford-Smith, Physiotherapy, University of Melbourne
Dr Alex Kusmanoff, Conservation, RMIT University
Dr Alexandra Crosby, Design, University of Technology Sydney
Alexandra Haschek, Psychology, La Trobe University
Alexandre da Silva Faustino, Geography, RMIT University
Alexia Adhikari, Development, University of Adelaide
Alice Bellette, Literature, Deakin University
Associate Professor Alice Gaby, Linguistics, Monash University
Dr Alice Jones, Ecology, University of Adelaide
Alice Wighton, Anthropology, Australian National University
Alicia Flynn, Education, University of Melbourne
Alisa Yuko Bernhard, Musicology, University of Sydney
Alison Burns, International Studies, Deakin University
Dr Alison Holland, History, Macquarie University
Dr Alison Lullfitz, Ethnobiology, University of WA
Dr Alison Peel, Science, Griffith University
Alison Winning, Social Science, James Cook University
Professor Alison Young, Criminology, University of Melbourne
Alissa Flatley, Geography, University of Melbourne
Dr Alissa Macoun, Politics, Queensland University of Technology
Professor Alistair McCulloch, Education, University of SA
Dr Alistair Sisson, Geography, University of NSW
Allison Larmour, Politics, University of Sydney
Alys Young, Ecology, University of Melbourne
Alyssa Choat, Design, University of Technology Sydney
Alyssa Sigamoney, Criminology, RMIT University
Dr Amal Osman, Health, Flinders University
Dr Amanda Coles, Employment Relations, Deakin University
Professor Amanda Kearney, Anthropology, Flinders University
Dr Amelia Hine, Geography, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Amelia Johns, Media, University of Technology Sydney
Amélie Scalercio, Fine Arts, Monash University
Dr Amie O’Shea, Health, Deakin University
Dr Amy Barrow, Law, Macquarie University
Dr Amy Carrad, Public Health, University of Wollongong
Amy Cleland, Social Science, University of SA
Amy Hampson, Neuroscience, University of Melbourne
Dr Amy McKernan, Education, University of Melbourne
Dr Amy McPherson, Education, Australian Catholic University
Dr Amy Prendergast, Geography, University of Melbourne
Amy Thomas, Education, University of Technology Sydney
Amy-Jo Jory, Art, Swinburne University
Dr Ana Maria Ducasse, Languages, RMIT University
Ananya Majumdar, Social Science, RMIT University
Dr Anastasia Kanjere, Humanities, La Trobe University
Dr Anastasia Powell, Criminology, RMIT University
Professor Andrea Lamont-Mills, Psychology, University of Southern Queensland
Professor Andrea Durbach, Law, University of NSW
Associate Professor Andrea Rizzi, Arts, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Andrew Bonnell, History, University of Queensland
Dr Andrew Brooks, Humanities, University of NSW
Associate Professor Andrew Butt, Urban Planning, RMIT University
Dr Andrew Lapworth, Geography, University of NSW
Dr Andrew Miller, Art, Flinders University
Associate Professor Andrew Murphie, Media, University of NSW
Andrew Murray, Architecture, University of Melbourne
Professor Andrew Scholey, Psychopharmacology, Swinburne University
Andrew Treloar, Art, University of Melbourne
Professor Andrew Vallely, Public Health, University of NSW
Dr Andrew Whelan, Sociology, University of Wollongong
Andy Bates, Design, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Andy Kaladelfos, Criminology, University of NSW
Andy White, Music, Melbourne Polytechnic
Dr Angela Dean, Environment Studies, Queensland University of Technology
Associate Professor Angela Kelly-Hanku, Anthropology, University of NSW
Angela Kintominas, Law, University of NSW
Angela Osborne, Communication, Deakin University
Dr Angelika Papadopoulos, Social Work, RMIT University
Angus Burns, Psychology, Monash University
Ani Landsu-Ward, Social Science, RMIT University
Professor Anina Rich, Neuroscience, Macquarie University
Dr Anita Trezona, Public Health, Deakin University
Associate Professor Anitra Nelson, Social Science, University of Melbourne
Anja Dickel, Pharmacy, University of SA
Dr Anja Kanngieser, Geography, University of Wollongong
Dr Anna Bowring, Public Health, Burnet Institute
Anna Dunn, Anthropology, University of Sydney
Anna Gross, Resources, University of Newcastle
Dr Anna Hermkens, Anthropology, Macquarie University
Dr Anna Hopkins, Ecology, Edith Cowan University
Anna Krohn, Education, University of Melbourne
Anna Loewendahl, Arts, University of Melbourne
Anna Nervegna, Architecture, University of Melbourne
Anna Tweeddale, Architecture, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Anna Willis, Archaeology, James Cook University
Dr Annalea Beattie, Writing, RMIT University
Dr Anne Décobert, Anthropology, University of Melbourne
Dr Anne Elvey, Theology, Monash University
Associate Professor Anne Junor, Employment Relations, University of NSW
Dr Anne Marie Ross, Education, University of Newcastle
Dr Annette Kroen, Urban Planning, RMIT University
Dr Annie Delaney, Industrial Relations, RMIT university
Dr Annie Gowing, Education, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Anthony Hopkins, Law, Australian National University
Dr Anthony Kent, Social Science, RMIT University
Associate Professor Anthony Langlois, International Relations, Flinders University
Anthony Schulx, Music, Melbourne Polytechnic
Anthony Smith, Sociology, University of NSW
Antoine Mangion, Education, Australian Catholic University
Anwar Hossain, Ecology, University of Melbourne
Dr April Reside, Ecology, University of Queensland
Arden Haar, Geography, University of Melbourne
Dr Arlo Mountford, Arts, RMIT University
Dr Ascelin Gordon, Conservation, RMIT University
Ash Johnstone, Humanities, University of Wollongong
Ashley Barnwell, Sociology, University of Melbourne
Ashley Thomson, Anthropology, Australian National University
Dr Astrida Neimanis, Cultural Studies, University of Sydney
Badrul Hyder, Urban Studies, RMIT University
Associate Professor Barbara Kelly, Linguistics, University of Melbourne
Dr Barry Morris, Anthropology, Newcastle University
Associate Professor Bastien Llamas, Evolutionary Genomics, University of Adelaide
Dr Bek Christensen, Ecology, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Ben Silverstein, History, Australian National University
Associate Professor Ben Spies-Butcher, Sociology, Macquarie University
Dr Ben Vezina, Biology, Monash University
Dr Benjamin Cooke, Geography, RMIT University
Dr Benjamin Habib, International Relations, La Trobe University
Dr Benjamin Hegarty, Anthropology, University of Melbourne
Bernard Keo, History, Monash University
Dr Beth Cardier, Communications, Griffith University
Beth Marsden, History, La Trobe University
Bethany Kenyon, Social Sciences, RMIT University
Bethia Burgess, Criminology, University of Melbourne
Dr Betty Luu, Psychology, University of Sydney
Dr Bianca Fileborn, Criminology, University of Melbourne
Bianca Hennessy, Pacific Studies, Australian National University
Professor Billie Giles-Corti, Public Health, RMIT University
Associate Professor Bina Fernandez, Development Studies, University of Melbourne
Dr Bindi Bennett, Social Work, University of the Sunshine Coast
Dr Blair Williams, Political Science, Australian National University
Dr Blue Mahy, Education, Monash University
Professor Bob Hodge, Communication studies, Western Sydney University
Dr Bonny Cassidy, Writing, RMIT University
Dr Brian Cuddy, History, Macquarie University
Dr Bridget Harris, Criminology, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Bridget Lewis, Law, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Brigid Magner, Literature, RMIT University
Briony Neilson, History, University of Sydney
Dr Briony Towers, Psychology, RMIT University
Dr Brodie Evans, Social Justice, Queensland University of Technology
Bronwyn Ann Sutton, Education, Deakin University
Dr Bronwyn Cumbo, Education, Monash University
Dr Brooke Wilmsen, Geography, La Trobe University
Associate Professor Cai Wilkinson, International Studies, Deakin University
Professor Callum Morton, Fine Art, Monash University
Cally Mills, Nursing, Australian Catholic University
Cameron Coventry, History, Federation University
Professor Cameron Tonkinwise, Design, University of Technology Sydney
Dr Can Yalcinkaya, Media, Macquarie University
Dr Candice Boyd, Geography, University of Melbourne
Professor Carey Curtis, Planning, Curtin University
Professor Carla Treloar, Social Science, University of NSW
Dr Carly Monks, Archaeology, University of WA
Carmen Jacques, Anthropology, Edith Cowan University
Carol Que, Arts, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Carol Warren, Anthropology, Murdoch University
Dr Caroline Mahoney, Education, Deakin University
Dr Caroline Wake, Theatre, University of NSW
Carolyn D’Cruz, Gender Studies, La Trobe University
Dr Carolyn Eskdale, Art, RMIT University
Professor Carolyn Whitzman, Urban Planning, University of Melbourne
Casey Hosking, Psychology, La Trobe University
Cat Macleod, Architecture, Melbourne Polytechnic
Professor Catherine Althaus, Public Administration, University of NSW
Professor Catherine Greenhill, Mathematics, University of NSW
Dr Catherine Hartung, Education, Swinburne University
Dr Catherine Innes Clover, Fine Art, Swinburne University
Professor Catherine McMahon, Health, Macquarie University
Dr Catherine Phillips, Geography, University of Melbourne
Catherine Townsend, Architecture, University of Melbourne
Catherine Weiss, Philosophy, RMIT University
Dr Cayne Layton, Ecology, University of Tasmania
Associate Professor Cecily Maller, Geography, RMIT University
Dr Chantel Carr, Geography, University of Wollongong
Charity Edwards, Architecture, Monash University
Associate Professor Charles Livingstone, Public Health, Monash University
Dr Charles Robb, Visual Arts, Queensland University of Technology
Professor Charles Sowerwine, History, University of Melbourne
Charlie Cooper, Psychology, University of Melbourne
Charlie Sofo, Visual Art, Monash University
Charlotte Day, Art, Monash University
Dr Chin Jou, History, University of Sydney
Dr Chloe Ward, European Studies, RMIT University
Associate Professor Chris Healy, Cultural Studies, University of Melbourne
Dr Chris Maylea, Social Work, RMIT University
Dr Chris Pam, Anthropology, James Cook University
Dr Chris Peers, Education, Monash University
Dr Chris Urwin, Archaeology, Monash University
Christel Antonites, Humanities, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Christina David, Social Work, RMIT University
Dr Christine Agius, Politics, Swinburne University
Dr Christo Bester, Neuroscience, University of Melbourne
Christopher Cordner, Philosophy, University of Melbourne
Christopher Hallam, Ecology, University of Melbourne
Dr Christopher McCaw, Education, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Christy Newman, Sociology, University of NSW
Professor Ciaran O’Faircheallaigh, Politics, Griffith University
Dr Ciemon Caballes, Ecology, James Cook University
Claire Akhbari, Indigenous Studies, University of Melbourne
Dr Claire Loughnan, Criminology, University of Melbourne
Dr Claire Nettle, Politics, Flinders University
Dr Claire Spivakovsky, Criminology, University of Melbourne
Dr Clare Cooper, Design, University of Sydney
Associate Professor Clare Corbould, History, Deakin University
Dr Clare Land, History, Victoria University
Clare Rae, Fine Art, University of Melbourne
Dr Clare Southerton, Sociology, University of NSW
Dr Clare Weeden, Medicine, University of Melbourne
Professor Clare Wright, History, La Trobe University
Dr Claudia Marck, Public Health, University of Melbourne
Dr Clemence Due, Psychology, University of Adelaide
Connor Jolley, Geography, RMIT University
Dr Coralie Boulet, Microbiology, La Trobe University
Professor Corey Bradshaw, Ecology, Flinders University
Dr Corrinne Sullivan, Geography, Western Sydney University
Dr Courtney Babb, Urban Planning, Curtin University
Dr Courtney Morgans, Ecology, University of Queensland
Dr Courtney Pedersen, Visual Arts, Queensland University of Technology
Craig Lyons, Geography, University of Wollongong
Dr Cristy Clark, Law, University of Canberra
Dr Crystal Legacy, Urban Planning, University of Melbourne
Dr Cullan Joyce, Philosophy, University of Divinity
Dr Cynthia Hunter, Anthropology, University of Sydney
Daisy Bailey, History, Monash University
Daisy Gibbs, Public Health, University of NSW
Dr Dallas Rogers, Urbanism, University of Sydney
Associate Professor Damien Cahill, Politics, University of Sydney
Dr Dan Golding, Media, Swinburne University
Dr Daniel Brennan, Philosophy, Bond University
Dr Daniel Lopez, Philosophy, La Trobe University
Dr Daniel Ohlsen, Botany, University of Melbourne
Professor Daniel Palmer, Art, RMIT University
Daniel Reeders, Regulation and Governance, Australian National University
Associate Professor Daniel von Sturmer, Fine Art, Monash University
Dr Daniella Forster, Education, University of Newcastle
Professor Danielle Celermajer, Sociology, University of Sydney
Dr Dara Conduit, Politics, Deakin University
Professor Darryl Jones, Environmental Science, Griffith University
Dr Dave McDonald, Criminology, University of Melbourne
Dr David Brophy, History, University of Sydney
Professor David Carlin, Writing, RMIT University
Dr David Coombs, Public Policy, University of NSW
Dr David Hurwood, Ecology, Queensland University of Technology
Dr David Kelly, Geography, RMIT University
Dr David Pollock, Politics, RMIT University
Dr David Ripley, Philosophy, Monash University
Dr David Rousell, Education, RMIT University
Emeritus Professor David Rowe, Sociology, Western Sydney University
Dr David Singh, Sociology, University of Queensland
Associate Professor David Slucki, Sociology, Monash University
Dr David Smith, Politics, University of Sydney
Dr David Spencer, Communication, University of Canberra
Associate Professor Dawn Darlaston-Jones, Behavioural Science, University of Notre Dame
Dr Deb Batterham, Social Science, Swinburne University of Technology
Dr Debbi Long, Anthropology, RMIT University
Dr Deborah Apthorp, Psychology, University of New England
Dr Deborah Cleland, Governance, Australian National University
Deborah Lee-Talbot, History, Deakin University
Dr Deborah Moore, Education, Deakin University
Dr Debra McDougall, Anthropology, University of Melbourne
Declan Martin, Urban Planning, Monash University
Professor Deirdre Coleman, English, University of Melbourne
Dr Deirdre Hayes, Australian Studies, University of SA
Professor Devleena Ghosh, Social Science, University of Technology Sydney
Dr Diana Johns, Criminology, University of Melbourne
Dr Diana Shahinyan, English, Sydney University
Dimity Hawkins, History, Swinburne University
Dion Tuckwell, Design, Monash University
Dr Dolly Kikon, Anthropology, University of Melbourne
Dr Dominic De Nardo, Medicine, Monash University
Dr Dominique Moritz, Law, University of the Sunshine Coast
Dr Dominique Potvin, Ecology, University of the Sunshine Coast
Associate Professor Donna Houston, Geography, Macquarie University
Dr Duc Dau, Humanities, University of WA
Dr Eden Smith, History, University of Melbourne
Dr Eduardo Jordan, Journalism, Griffith University
Dr Effie Karageorgos, History, University of Newcastle
Dr Elena Benthaus, Humanities, Deakin University
Dr Elena Prieto, Education, University of Newcastle
Elena Tjandra, Geography, University of Melbourne
Dr Elese Dowden, Philosophy, University of Queensland
Dr Elise Klein, Public Policy, Australian National University
Dr Elizabeth Branigan, Anthropology, La Trobe University
Elizabeth Culhane, Philosophy, University of Queensland
Elizabeth Duncan, Geography, Sydney University
Elizabeth King, English, Macquarie University
Dr Elizabeth Orr, Social Work, University of Melbourne
Professor Elizabeth Povinelli, Anthropology, Charles Darwin University
Dr Elke Emerald, Education, Griffith University
Ellen Corrick, Geography, University of Melbourne
Elliot Gould, Ecology, University of Melbourne
Dr Ellyse Fenton, Politics, University of Queensland
Dr Emily Brayshaw, History, University of Technology Sydney
Emily Corbett, Gender Studies, La Trobe University
Dr Emily Gray, Education, RMIT University
Emily McColl-Gausden, Ecology, University of Melbourne
Emily Miller, Justice Studies, University of SA
Emily Miller, Archaeology, Griffith University
Dr Emily O’Gorman, Geography, Macquarie University
Associate Professor Emily Potter, Literature, Deakin University
Dr Emily Rugel, Epidemiology, University of Sydney
Emily Toome, Social Sciences, RMIT University
Dr Emily van der Nagel, Communication, Monash University
Emma Barnes, Social Science, University of NSW
Dr Emma Colvin, Criminology, Charles Sturt University
Emma George, Occupational Therapy, University of Adelaide
Professor Emma Kowal, Anthropology, Deakin University
Dr Emma Rehn, Environmental Science, James Cook University
Dr Emma Robertson, History, La Trobe University
Dr Emma Russell, Legal Studies, La Trobe University
Dr Emma Whatman, Gender Studies, Deakin University
Emmalee Ford, Biochemistry, University of Newcastle
Emmeline Kildea, Media, RMIT University
Dr Emmett Stinson, Literature, Deakin University
Epperly Zhang, Translation and Interpreting, RMIT University
Dr Erica Millar, Legal Studies, La Trobe University
Professor Erik Eklund, History, Federation University
Dr Erin Fitz-Henry, Anthropology, University of Melbourne
Dr Erin O’Donnell, Law, University of Melbourne
Erina McCann, Conservation, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Euan Ritchie, Ecology, Deakin University
Associate Professor Eva Alisic, Social Science, University of Melbourne
Dr Eve Mayes, Education, Deakin University
Dr Eve Vincent, Anthropology, Macquarie University
Dr Ewan McDonald, Nursing, La Trobe University
Dr Fabian Kong, Epidemiology, University of Melbourne
Dr Faith Valencia-Forrester, Education, Griffith University
Felicia Jaremus, Education, University of Newcastle
Felicity Gray, Governance, Australian National University
Associate Professor Felicity Meakins, Linguistics, University of Queensland
Fernanda Quilici Mola, Fashion, RMIT University
Fernanda Soares, International Relations, RMIT University
Dr Fincina Hopgood, Screen Studies, University of New England
Dr Fiona Cameron, Heritage studies, Western Sydney University
Professor Fiona Haines, Criminology, University of Melbourne
Dr Fiona Lee, English, University of Sydney
Associate Professor Fiona Miller, Geography, Macquarie University
Professor Fiona Paisley, History, Griffith University
Professor Fiona Probyn-Rapsey, Humanities, University of Wollongong
Fran van Riemsdyk, Fine Art, RMIT University
Dr Francesca Dominello, Law, Macquarie University
Dr Francis Markham, Geography, Australian National University
Dr Freya Higgins-Desbiolles, Tourism, University of SA
Freya McLachlan, Justice, Queensland University of Technology
Freya Scott, Linguistics, University of Melbourne
Gabriel Caluzzi, Public Health, La Trobe University
Dr Gabriel da Silva, Engineering, University of Melbourne
Gabriela Franich, Criminology, RMIT University
Dr Garrity Hill, Sociology, Swinburne University
Dr Gemma Hamilton, Criminology, RMIT University
Dr Geoff Browne, Urban Planning, University of Melbourne
Dr Geoffrey Brown, Humanities, La Trobe University
Emeritus Professor Geoffrey Samuel, Anthropology, University of Sydney
George Burdon, Geography, University of NSW
Dr George Dertadian, Criminology, University of NSW
George Hatvani, Social Sciences, Swinburne University
Associate Professor George Newhouse, Law, Macquarie University
Georgia Carr, Linguistics, University of Sydney
Dr Georgia Garrard, Conservation, RMIT University
Dr Gerald Roche, Anthropology, La Trobe University
Gerard Ryan, Ecology, University of Melbourne
Dr Gerlinde Koeglreiter, Information Systems, Australian National University
Gerry McLoughlin, eUrbanism, Swinburne University
Professor Ghassan Hage, Anthropology, University of Melbourne
Dr Gilad Bino, Science, University of NSW
Dr Giles Fielke, Art History, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Gillian Kidman, Education, Monash University
Professor Gillian Wigglesworth, Linguistics, University of Melbourne
Giselle Newton, Sociology, University of NSW
Gisselle Vila Benites, Geography, University of Melbourne
Dr Giulia Torello-Hill, Languages, University of New England
Dr Glenda Mejia, Global Studies, RMIT University
Glenn Abblitt, Education, RMIT University
Dr Glenn Althor, Environmental Science, Australian National University
Dr Graham Fulton, Biology, University of Queensland
Associate Professor Grant Hamilton, Ecology, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Greg Giannis, Education, La Trobe University
Professor Greg Hainge, Languages, University of Queensland
Professor Greg Restall, Philosophy, University of Melbourne
Guy Webster, Literature, University of Melbourne
Dr Hanna Torsh, Linguistics, Macquarie University
Dr Hannah McCann, Cultural Studies, University of Melbourne
Hannah Reardon-Smith, Music, Griffith University
Dr Hannah Robert, Law, La Trobe University
Hannah Weeramanthri, Social Work, University of Melbourne
Hanne Worsoe, Anthropology, University of Queensland
Associate Professor Hans Baer, Anthropology, University of Melbourne
Dr Haripriya Rangan, Geography, University of Melbourne
Dr Harriette Richards, Cultural Studies, University of Melbourne
Harrison Spratling, Education, Deakin University
Adjunct Professor Hartmut Fünfgeld, Geography, RMIT University
Hayden Moon, Theatre, Sydney University
Dr Hayley Henderson, Urban Planning, Australian National University
Dr Heather Francis, Neuropsychology, Macquarie University
Heather Jarvis, Media, RMIT University
Dr Helen Corney, Urban Studies, RMIT University
Professor Helen Dickinson, Public Administration, University of NSW
Dr Helen Grimmett, Education, Monash University
Dr Helen Johnson, Fine Art, Monash University
Dr Helen Keane, Sociology, Australian National University
Dr Helen Mayfield, Conservation, University of Queensland
Dr Helen Ngo, Philosophy, Deakin University
Dr Helen Pringle, Politics, University of NSW
Helen Rowe, Urban Policy, RMIT University
Helen South, Education, Charles Sturt University
Helen Taylor, Management, University of Technology Sydney
Dr Henk Huijser, Education, Queensland University of Technology
Hiranya Anderson, Health, Macquarie University
Dr Hoda Afshar, Humanities, University of Melbourne
Dr Holly Doel-Mckaway, Law, Macquarie Law School
Associate Professor Holly High, Anthropology, University of Sydney
Dr Holly Sitters, Ecology, University of Melbourne
Holly Smith, Palaeontology, Griffith University
Dr Honni van Rijswijk, Law, University of Technology Sydney
Dr Hugh Davies, Ecology, Charles Darwin University
Professor Hugh Possingham, Ecology, University of Queensland
Dr Ibolya Losoncz, Governance, Australian National University
Associate Professor Ilana Mushin, Linguistics, University of Queensland
Dr Imogen Bell, Mental health, University of Melbourne
Imogen Carr, Geography, University of Melbourne
Dr Imogen Richards, Criminology, Deakin University
Dr Indigo Willing, Sociology, Griffith University
Associate Professor Iris Duhn, Education, Monash University
Dr Iris Levin, Urban Planning, Swinburne University
Isabel Mudford, Sociology, Australian National University
Dr Isabel O’Keeffe, Linguistics, University of Sydney
Isabella Capezio, Photography, RMIT University
Isabella Saunders, Social science, University of NSW
Ishita Chatterjee, Architecture, University of Melbourne
Ivy Scurr, Anthropology, University of Newcastle
Associate Professor Jaap Timmer, Anthropology, Macquarie University
Dr Jack Noone, Psychology, University of NSW
Jackson Holloway, Philosophy, La Trobe University
Jaclyn Hopkins, History, La Trobe University
Dr Jacqueline Bradley, Visual Arts, National Art School
Dr Jacqueline Gothe, Design, University of Technology Sydney
Dr Jacqui Shelton, Fine Art, Monash University
Dr Jacquie Tinkler, Education, Charles Sturt University
Professor Jago Dodson, Urban Policy, RMIT University
Dr Jamee Newland, Health, University of NSW
James Barker, Ecology, University of Wollongong
James Blackwell, Politics, University of NSW
Dr James Bradley, History, University of Melbourne
Dr James Cleverley, Cultural Studies, University of Melbourne
Dr James Dunk, History, University of Sydney
Dr James Findlay, History, University of Sydney
Dr James Flexner, Archaeology, University of Sydney
Dr James Lesh, Heritage Studies, University of Melbourne
Professor James McCaw, Science, University of Melbourne
James Meese, Communications, RMIT University
Associate Professor James Oliver, Design, RMIT University
Dr James Radford, Ecology, La Trobe University
James Upjohn, Science, Monash University
Dr Jan-Hendrik, Geography, University of Melbourne
Dr Jane Carey, History, University of Wollongong
Professor Jane Wilkinson, Education, Monash University
Associate Professor Janet Hunt, Development Studies, Australian National University
Associate Professor Janet Stanley, Interdisciplinary, University of Melbourne
Janice Wright, Social Sciences, University of Wollongong
Janine Gertz, Sociology, James Cook University
Jannett Nieves, Social Studies, RMIT University
Dr Jarrod Hore, History, University of NSW
Jasmin McAleer, Archaeology, Australian National University
Dr Jasmine Westendorf, Politics, La Trobe University
Rev/Dr Jason Goroncy, Theology, University of Divinity
Javed Anwar, Education, RMIT University
Professor Javier Alvarez-Mon, Archaeology, Macquarie University
Dr Jay Daniel Thompson, Communications, RMIT University
Dr Jaye Early, Art, University of SA
Jaye Hayes, Arts Therapy, MIECAT Institute
Dr Jayne Rantall, History, La Trobe University
Professor Jayne White, Education, RMIT University
Dr Jayne Wilkins, Archaeology, Griffith University
Dr Jaz Hee-jeong Choi, Design, RMIT University
Professor Jeanette Kennett, Philosophy, Macquarie University
Jeanine Hourani, Public Health, University of Melbourne
Dr Jeannette Walsh, Social work, University of Wollongong
Associate Professor Jeannie Rea, Planetary Health, Victoria University
Associate Professor Jeff Babon, Biologist, Walter and Eliza Hall Institute
Jen Hocking, Midwifery, Australian Catholic University
Dr Jen Martin, Science, University of Melbourne
Dr Jenna Mead, English, University of WA
Jenna Mikus, Creative Industries, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Jennifer Audsley, Infectious Diseases, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Jennifer Balint, Criminology, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Jennifer Biddle, Visual Anthropology, University of NSW
Dr Jennifer Bleazby, Education, Monash University
Jennifer Campbell, Engineering, Griffith University
Dr Jennifer Caruso, History, University of Adelaide
Dr Jennifer Dowling, Languages, University of Sydney
Professor Jennifer Firn, Ecology, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Jennifer McConachy, Social Work, University of Melbourne
Jennifer Newsome, Musicology, Australian National University
Dr Jennifer Seevinck, Design, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Jennifer Silcock, Ecology, University of Queensland
Jennifer Witheridge, Urban Studies, Swinburne University
Dr Jeremiah Brown, Financial Wellbeing, University of NSW
Jeremy Eaton, Visual Art, University of Melbourne
Jeremy Gay, Social Science, RMIT University
Dr Jess Coyle, Indigenous Australian Studies, Charles Sturt University
Jess Hardley, Media, Murdoch University
Dr Jess Reeves, Environmental Science, Federation University
Dr Jessica Birnie-Smith, Linguistics, La Trobe University
Dr Jessica Campbell, Speech Pathology, University of Queensland
Dr Jessica Edwards, Health, University of Adelaide
Dr Jessica Gannaway, Languages, University of Melbourne
Dr Jessica Gerrard, Education, University of Melbourne
Jessica Gibbs, Archaeology, University of Queensland
Dr Jessica Hazel Horton, History, La Trobe University
Dr Jessica Kean, Gender Studies, University of Sydney
Jessica Lea Dunn, Design, University of Sydney
Dr Jessica Manousakis, Neuroscience, Monash University
Dr Jessica Megarry, Political Science, University of Melbourne
Jessica Priemus, Design, Curtin University
Dr Jessica Roberts, Ecology, Monash University
Associate Professor Jessica Wilkinson, Creative Writing, RMIT University
Dr Jessie Wells, Environmental Science, University of Queensland
Jidde Jacobi, Cognitive Sciences, Macquarie University
Dr Jill Fielding-Wells, Education, Australian Catholic University
Jill Pope, Anthropology, University of Melbourne
Dr Jill Vaughan, Linguistics, University of Melbourne
Dr Jillian Healy, Biological Science, Deakin University
Dr Jing Qi, Education, RMIT University
Jo Grant, Medical Anthropology, University of Newcastle
Dr Joanna Cruickshank, History, Deakin University
Dr Joanna Kyriakakis, Law, Monash University
Dr Joanne Dawson, Astronomy, Macquarie University
Dr Joanne Faulkner, Cultural Studies, Macquarie University
Dr Joanne Quick, Languages, Deakin University
Dr Joanne Watson, Disability and Inclusion, Deakin University
Jocelyn Bosse, Law, University of Queensland
Dr Jodi McAlister, Writing, Deakin University
Dr Joe Fontaine, Environmental Science, Murdoch University
Dr Joe Hurley, Urban Planning, RMIT University
Joe MacFarlane, Criminology, RMIT University
Dr Joel Barnes, History, University of Technology Sydney
Dr John Cox, Anthropology, La Trobe University
John Cumming, Creative Arts, Deakin University
Professor John Frow, English, University of Sydney
Professor John Langmore, Politics, University of Melbourne
Professor John Sinclair, Sociology, University of Melbourne
Dr John Taylor, Anthropology, La Trobe University
Professor Jon Barnett, Geography, University of Melbourne
Dr Jon Roffe, Philosophy, Melbourne School of Continental Philosophy
Jonas Ropponen, Fine Art, Monash University
Dr Jonathan Dimond, Arts, Melbourne Polytechnic
Dr Jonathan Symons, Politics, Macquarie University
Dr Joni Meenagh, Criminology, RMIT University
Jordan Hinton, Psychology, Australian Catholic University
Dr Jordana Silverstein, History, La Trobe University
Professor Joseph Pugliese, Cultural Studies, Macquarie University
Dr Josephine Browne, Sociology, Griffith University
Joshua Badge, Philosophy, Deakin University
Joshua Hernandez, Philosophy, La Trobe University
Joshua Hodges, Ecology, Charles Sturt University
Dr Jovana Mastilovic, Law, Griffith University
Judy Annear, Art History, University of Melbourne
Dr Judy Bush, Urban Planning, University of Melbourne
Dr Judy Taylor, Health, James Cook University
Dr Julia Dehm, Law, La Trobe University
Julia Hartelius, International Studies, RMIT University
Julia Lane, Cultural Studies, Edith Cowan University
Julian Aubrey Smith, Fine Arts, RMIT University
Julian McKinlay King, Political Science, University of Wollongong
Dr Julie Dean, Health, University of Queensland
Professor Julie Fitness, Psychology, Macquarie University
Dr Julie Healer, Science, Walter and Eliza Hall Institute
Dr Julie Kimber, Politics, Swinburne University of Technology
Dr Julie Moreau, Biology, Monash University
Associate Professor Julie Rudner, Community Development, La Trobe University
Juliet Gunning, Performing Arts, Swinburne University
Associate Professor Juliet Rogers, Criminology, University of Melbourne
Dr Jumana Bayeh, Arts, Macquarie University
Dr June Rubis, Geography, University of Sydney
Justin McCulloch, Geography, University of SA
Dr Justine Shih Pearson, Literature, University of Sydney
Jutta Beher, Ecology, University of Melbourne
Kai Tanter, Philosophy, University of Melbourne
Professor Kama Maclean, History, University of NSW
Professor Kane Race, Humanities, University of Sydney
Kara Sandri, Social Science, RMIT University
Karen Carlisle, Health, James Cook University
Dr Karen Cheer, Health, James Cook University
Dr Karen Crawley, Law, Griffith University
Associate Professor Karen Jones, Philosophy, University of Melbourne
Dr Karen Marangio, Education, Monash University
Professor Karen Trimmer, Education, University of Southern Queensland
Dr Kari Lancaster, Social Science, University of NSW
Karly Cini, Health, University of Melbourne
Dr Kassel Hingee, Statistics, Australian National University
Kate Barber, Art, Monash University
Kate Brody, Medicine, University of Melbourne
Kate Clark, Cultural Studies, Monash University
Dr Kate Davison, History, University of Melbourne
Dr Kate Dooley, Political science, University of Melbourne
Dr Kate Helmstedt, Mathematics, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Kate Howell, Food Systems, University of Melbourne
Kate Hume, Environmental Sciences, University of Melbourne
Dr Kate Johnston-Ataata, Sociology, RMIT University
Dr Kate Just, Art, University of Melbourne
Dr Kate O’Connor, Education, La Trobe University
Professor Kate Sweetapple, Design, University of Technology Sydney
Associate Professor Kate Thompson, Education, Queensland University of Technology
Kate Toone, Social work, Flinders University
Dr Kate Young, Public Health, Queensland University of Technology
Katerina Kokkinos-Kennedy, Performing Arts, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Katerina Teaiwa, Pacific Studies, Australian National University
Professor Kath Gelber, Political Science, University of Queensland
Katherine Berthon, Ecology, RMIT University
Dr Katherine Curchin, Public Policy, Australian National University
Associate Professor Katherine Ellinghaus, History, La Trobe University
Dr Katherine Giljohann, Science, University of Melbourne
Professor Katherine Johnson, Community Psychology, RMIT University
Dr Kathleen Aikens, Education, Monash University
Dr Kathleen Flanagan, Sociology, University of Tasmania
Dr Kathleen Neal, History, Monash University
Kathleen Pleasants, Education, La Trobe University
Kathleen Smithers, Education, University of Newcastle
Dr Kathleen Tait, Education, Macquarie University
Dr Kathryn Coleman, Visual Art, University of Melbourne
Kathryn Knights, Ecology, University of Melbourne
Dr Kathryn Reardon-Smith, Ecology, University of Southern Queensland
Dr Kathryn Sellick, Social Work, University of Melbourne
Professor Kathryn Williams, Psychology, University of Melbourne
Professor Kathy Bowrey, Law, University of NSW
Associate Professor Katie Barclay, History, University of Adelaide
Professor Katie Holmes, History, La Trobe University
Dr Katie O’Bryan, Law, Monash University
Dr Katie Woolaston, Law, Queensland University of Technology
Katitza Marinkovic, Health, University of Melbourne
Katrin Koenning, Visual Art, RMIT University
Dr Katrina Raynor, Urban Planning, University of Melbourne
Kavita Gonsalves, Urban Studies, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Kaya Barry, Geography, Griffith University
Keagan Ó Guaire, Social Science, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Keely Macarow, Art, RMIT University
Dr Keith Armstrong, Visual Arts, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Kelly Donati, Food studies, William Angliss Institute
Dr Kelly Gardiner, English, La Trobe University
Dr Kelly Hussey-Smith, Art, RMIT University
Dr Kelsie Long, Palaeoenvironments, Australian National University
Dr Kerrie Saville, Management, Deakin University
Dr Kerryn Drysdale, Health, University of NSW
Dr Kevin Lowe, Education, University of NSW
Kia Zand, Art, University of Melbourne
Kieran Stevenson, Writing, Deakin University
Dr Kim Davies, Education, Deakin University
Kim Newman, Archaeology, Griffith University
Kimberley de la Motte, Science, University of Queensland
Dr Kirrily Jordan, Politics, Australian National University
Dr Kirsten Small, Health, Griffith University
Kirstin Kreyscher, Humanities, Deakin University
Kirsty Howey, Cultural Studies, University of Sydney
Kris Vine, Health, James Cook University
Dr Kristal Cain, Biology, Australian National University
Kristen Bell, Urban Planning, RMIT University
Kristina Tsoulis-Reay, Fine Art, Monash University
Associate Professor Kurt Iveson, Geography, University of Sydney
Dr Kyle Harvey, History, University of Tasmania
Associate Professor Kym Rae, Indigenous Health, University of Queensland
Kymberly Louise, Disability Studies, Flinders University
Dr Lana Hartwig, Geography, Griffith University
Lanie Stockman, Social Policy, RMIT University
Dr Lara Palombo, Cultural Studies, Macquarie University
Dr Laresa Kosloff, Art, RMIT University
Larissa Fogden, Social Work, University of Melbourne
Dr Larissa Sandy, Criminology, RMIT University
Dr Laura Alfrey, Education, Monash University
Dr Laura Henderson, Cultural Studies, University of Melbourne
Dr Lauren Gawne, Linguistics, La Trobe University
Lauren Gower, Fine Art, University of Melbourne
Dr Lauren Istvandity, Cultural Studies, University of the Sunshine Coast
Dr Lauren Pikó, History, University of Melbourne
Dr Leah Barclay, Design, University of the Sunshine Coast
Dr Leah Lui-Chivizhe, History, University of Sydney
Dr Leah Williams Veazey, Sociology, University of Sydney
Dr Leanne Morrison, Accounting, RMIT University
Lee Valentine, Health, University of Melbourne
Dr Lenise Prater, Literary Studies, Monash University
Lenka Thompson, Social Science, University of Technology Sydney
Leonetta Leopardi, Linguistics, University of Melbourne
Dr Leonie Brialey, Creative Writing, University of Melbourne
Professor Lesley Head, Geography, University of Melbourne
Professor Lesley Hughes, Ecology, Macquarie University
Professor Lesley Stirling, Linguistics, University of Melbourne
Dr Leslie Eastman, Fine Art, RMIT University
Dr Leslie Roberson, Conservation, University of Queensland
Letitia Robertson, Finance, University of Southern Queensland
Dr Lew Zipin, Education, Victoria University
Dr Liam Ward, Media, RMIT University
Dr Libby Kruse, Medical Biology, University of Melbourne
Professor Libby Porter, Urban Planning, RMIT University
Dr Ligia Lopez Lopez, Education, University of Melbourne
Dr Lila Moosad, Public Health, University of Melbourne
Lina Koleilat, Ethnography, Australian National University
Lindall Kidd, Ecology, RMIT University
Dr Lindy Orthia, Science Communication, Australian National University
Dr Lisa Carson, Politics, University of NSW
Lisa de Kleyn, Social Science, RMIT University
Dr Lisa Hunter, Education, Monash University
Lisa Siegel, Education, Southern Cross University
Lisa Theiler, Anthropology, La Trobe University
Dr Lisa Vallely, Public Health, University of NSW
Associate Professor Lisa Wynn, Anthropology, Macquarie University
Dr Liz Barber, Public Health, University of SA
Dr Liz Brogden, Architecture, Queensland University of Technology
Associate Professor Liz Conor, History, La Trobe University
Liz Dearn, Mental Health, RMIT University
Liz McGrath, Social Work, RMIT University
Dr Lizzil Gay, Media, RMIT University
Dr Llewellyn Wishart, Education, Deakin University
Dr Lloyd White, Anatomy, La Trobe University
Dr Lobna Yassine, Social Work, Australian Catholic University
Professor Lorana Bartels, Criminology, Australian National University
Loretta Bellato, Social Sciences, Swinburne University
Dr Lorna Peters, Psychology, Macquarie University
Dr Louisa Willoughby, Linguistics, Monash University
Professor Louise D’Arcens, English, Macquarie University
Dr Louise Dorignon, Geography, RMIT University
Louise Weaver, Fine Art, RMIT University
Lu Lin, Cultural Studies, RMIT University
Luara Karlson, English, University of Melbourne
Dr Luci Pangrazio, Education, Deakin University
Lucinda Strahan, Writing, RMIT University
Dr Lucy Buzacott, Arts, University of Melbourne
Dr Lucy Gunn, Urban Studies, RMIT University
Associate Professor Lucy Nicholas, Sociology, Western Sydney University
Dr Lucy Van, Literature, University of Melbourne
Dr Luigi Gussago, Languages, La Trobe University
Professor Luke McNamara, Law, University of NSW
Luke Stafford, Biology, La Trobe University
Lydia Pearson, Fashion, Queensland University of Technology
Lyndall Murray, Cognitive Science, Macquarie University
Professor Lyndsey Nickels, Cognitive Science, Macquarie University
Dr Lyrian Daniel, Architecture, University of Adelaide
Madeline Dans, Biomedics, Burnet Institute
Dr Madeline Mitchell, Plant Sciences, RMIT University
Madeline Taylor, Design, University of Melbourne
Dr Maia Gunn Watkinson, Cultural Studies, University of NSW
Dr Maia Raymundo, Ecology, James Cook University
Dr Mandy Truong, Public Health, Monash University
Dr Marc Mierowsky, English, University of Melbourne
Dr Marc Pruyn, Education, Monash University
Dr Marcelo Svirsky, Politics, University of Wollongong
Marco Gutierrez, Environmental Policy, RMIT University
Dr Marcus Banks, Economics, RMIT University
Professor Marcus Foth, Design, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Maree Pardy, International Studies, Deakin University
Margareta Windisch, Social Work, RMIT University
Dr Margot Ford, Education, University of Newcastle
Dr Maria Giannacopoulos, Law, Flinders University
Dr Maria Karidakis, Linguistics, The University Of Melbourne
Maria Korochkina, Cognitive Science, Macquarie University
Dr Mariana Dias Baptista, Forest Science, RMIT University
Professor Marie Brennan, Education, University of SA
Dr Mariko Smith, Museum Studies, University of Sydney
Marita McGuirk, Ecologist, University of Melbourne
Dr Mark Bahnisch, Sociology, International College of Management
Associate Professor Mark Kelly, Philosophy, Western Sydney University
Mark Parfitt, Humanities, Curtin University
Dr Mark Shorter, Fine Arts, University of Melbourne
Dr Markela Panegyres, Visual Arts, University of Sydney
Dr Marnee Watkins, Education, University of Melbourne
Dr Marnie Badham, Creative Arts, RMIT University
Dr Martin Breed, Ecology, Flinders University
Associate Professor Martin Porr, Archaeology, University of WA
Professor Mary Lou Rasmussen, Sociology, Australian National University
Dr Mary Tomsic, History, Australian Catholic University
Dr Mathew Abbott, Philosophy, Federation University
Matt Novacevski, Planning, University of Melbourne
Dr Matthew Champion, History, Australian Catholic University
Professor Matthew Fitzpatrick, History, Flinders University
Dr Matthew Harrison, Education, Melbourne Graduate School of Education
Matthew Mitchell, Criminology, University of Melbourne
Dr Matthew Selinske, Conservation, RMIT University
Dr Max Kaiser, History, University of Melbourne
Dr Meagan Dewar, Biology, Federation University
Dr Meagan Tyler, Industrial Relations, RMIT University
Professor Meaghan Morris, Cultural Studies, University of Sydney
Dr Meera Varadharajan, Education, University of NSW
Dr Meg Foster, History, University of NSW
Dr Megan Evans, Environmental Policy, University of NSW
Dr Megan Good, Ecology, University of Melbourne
Dr Megan McPherson, Creative Arts, University of Melbourne
Megan Tighe, Politics, University of Tasmania
Dr Megan Weier, Social Policy, University of NSW
Mel Campbell, Media, University of Melbourne
Melanie Ashe, Media, Monash University
Dr Melanie Baak, Education, University of SA
Dr Melanie Davern, Public Health, RMIT University
Dr Melinda Mann, Education, Central Queensland University
Dr Melissa Hardie, English, University of Sydney
Professor Melissa Haswell, Health, University of Sydney
Melissa Laing, Social work, RMIT University
Dr Melissa Lovell, Political Science, Australian National University
Dr Melissa Neave, Urban Planning, RMIT University
Associate Professor Melissa Norberg, Psychology, Macquarie University
Dr Melissa Wolfe, Education, Monash University
Mercedes Zanker, Philosophy, La Trobe University
Dr Meredith Turnbull, Fine Art, Monash University
Dr Mia Martin Hobbs, History, University of Melbourne
Dr Micaela Pattison, History, University of Sydney
Dr Micaela Sahhar, Palestine Studies, University of Melbourne
Michael Bojkowski, Communications, RMIT University
Dr Michael Callaghan, Ethics, Deakin University
Professor Michael Gard, Human Movement, University of Queensland
Dr Michael Griffiths, English, University of Wollongong
Michael Julian, Indigenous Arts, University of Melbourne
Professor Michael McCarthy, Ecology, University of Melbourne
Michael McNally, Education, University of Queensland
Michael Pearson, History, Australian Catholic University
Dr Michael Richardson, Cultural Studies, University of NSW
Dr Michael Savic, Sociology, Monash University
Professor Michael Stumpf, Biology, University of Melbourne
Dr Michal Glikson, Visual Arts, Charles Darwin University
Michel Gerencir, Visual Language, Griffith Film School
Professor Michele Acuto, Politics, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Michele Ruyters, Legal Studies, RMIT University
Professor Michelle Arrow, History, Macquarie University
Dr Michelle Carmody, Latin American Studies, University of Melbourne
Dr Michelle Langley, Archaeology, Griffith University
Dr Michelle Ludecke, Education, Monash University
Dr Michelle Redman-MacLaren, Public Health, James Cook University
Michelle Toy, Law, University of Technology Sydney
Professor Miguel Vatter, Politics, Flinders University
Dr Mike Jones, History, Australian National University
Dr Millicent Churcher, Philosophy, University of Sydney
Associate Professor Miranda Forsyth, Law, Australian National University
Dr Miranda Smith, Infectious Diseases, University of Melbourne
Dr Miri Forbes, Psychology, Macquarie University
Mittul Vahanvati, Urban Planning, RMIT University
Dr Moira Williams, Biology, University of Sydney
Dr Monica Barratt, Social Sciences, RMIT University
Dr Monica Behrend, Research Education, University of SA
Dr Monica Campo, Sociology, University of Melbourne
Monica Sestito, Italian Studies, University of Melbourne
Dr Monika Barthwal-Datta, International Relations, University of NSW
Monique Moffa, Criminology, RMIT University
Dr Morgan Harrington, Anthropology, Australian National University
Dr Morgan Tear, Psychology, Monash University
Morganna Magee, Design, Swinburne University
Muhammad Ali, Education, University of Queensland
Dr Nadia Rhook, Indigenous Studies, University of WA
Nahum McLean, Design, University of Technology Sydney
Naimah Talib, Geography, University of Melbourne
Professor Nan Seuffert, Law, University of Wollongong
Dr Naomi Indigp, Science, University of Queensland
Dr Naomi Parry, History, University of Tasmania
Dr Natalie Hendry, Media, RMIT University
Dr Natalie Osborne, Geography, Griffith University
Dr Natalya Turkina, Business, RMIT University
Natasha Cadenhead, Conservation, University of Melbourne
Natasha Heenan, Politics, University of Sydney
Dr Natasha Pauli, Geography, University of WA
Natasha Ufer, Ecology, University of Queensland
Dr Nathalie Butt, Ecology, University of Queensland
Nathan Pittman, Urban Planning, University of Melbourne
Dr Neil Maclean, Anthropology, University of Sydney
Nicholas Carson, Sociology, RMIT University
Dr Nicholas Hill, Sociology, RMIT University
Dr Nicholas Mangan, Fine Art, Monash University
Nicholas Ross, Politics, Australian National University
Dr Nicholas Tochka, Music, University of Melbourne
Dr Nick Brancazio, Philosophy, University of Wollongong
Dr Nick Kelly, Design, Queensland University of Technology
Dr Nick Schultz, Ecology, Federation University
Associate Professor Nick Thieberger, Linguistics, University of Melbourne
Dr Nicky Dulfer, Education, University of Melbourne
Dr Nicola Carr, Education, RMIT University
Associate Professor Nicola Henry, Social Sciences, RMIT University
Nicola Laurent, Archives, University of Melbourne
Nicole Davis, History, University of Melbourne
Professor Nicole Gurran, Urban Planning, University of Sydney
Associate Professor Nicole Rogers, Law, Southern Cross University
Dr Nikita Vanderbyl, Indigenous Studies, University of Melbourne
Professor Nikos Papastergiadis, Media, University of Melbourne
Dr Nikos Thomacos, Psychology, Monash University
Dr Nilmini Fernando, Sociology, Griffith University
Dr Nina Williams, Geography, University of NSW
Dr Niro Kandasamy, History, University of Melbourne
Olivia Price, Public Health, University of NSW
Dr Olwyn Stewart, Philosophy, University of Auckland
Dr Orana Sandri, Environmental Studies, RMIT University
Padraic Gibson, History, University of Technology Sydney
Pamela Buena, Education, University of NSW
Paris Hadfield, Geography, University of Melbourne
Pashew Nuri, Education, Monash University
Emeritus Professor Patricia Grimshaw, History, University of Melbourne
Dr Patrick Kelly, Media, RMIT University
Dr Paul Munro, Geography, University of NSW
Professor Paul Patton, Philosophy, Flinders University
Professor Paul Tacon, Archaeology, Griffith University
Dr Paula Satizabal, Geography, University of Melbourne
Dr Payal Bal, Ecology, University of Melbourne
Dr Peta Malins, Criminology, RMIT University
Peta Phelan, Health, University of Melbourne
Dr Peta White, Education, Deakin University
Dr Peter Balint, Politics, University of NSW
Dr Peter Chambers, Criminology, RMIT University
Associate Professor Peter Christoff, Geography, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Peter Ellis, Fine Art, RMIT University
Peter Hogg, Architecture, Melbourne Polytechnic
Professor Peter Marius Veth, Archaeology, University of WA
Professor Peter Otto, Literary Studies, University of Melbourne
Dr Philippa Chandler, Geography, University of Melbourne
Dr Phillipa Bellemore, Sociology, Macquarie University
Dr Phoebe Everingham, Geography, University of Newcastle
Dr Phoebe Smithies, Physiotherapy, University of Melbourne
Pia Treichel, Geography, University of Melbourne
Pip Henderson, Public Health, Flinders University
Dr Piper Rodd, History, Deakin University
Polly Bennett, Sociology, Deakin University
Dr Poppy de Souza, Media, University of NSW
Dr Prashanti Mayfield, Geography, RMIT University
Priya Kunjan, Politics, University of Melbourne
Dr Quah Ee Ling Sharon, Sociology, University of Wollongong
Dr Rachael Burgin, Criminology, Swinburne University
Dr Rachael Dwyer, Education, University of the Sunshine Coast
Rachael Fernald, Social Work, RMIT University
Dr Rachel Buchanan, Education, University of Newcastle
Dr Rachel Burke, Linguistics, University of Newcastle
Dr Rachel Busbridge, Sociology, Australian Catholic University
Dr Rachel Chapman, Education, Melbourne Polytechnic
Dr Rachel Deacon, Health, University of Sydney
Rachel England, Environmental Studies, Australian National University
Dr Rachel Forgasz, Education, Monash University
Associate Professor Rachel Heath, Psychology, University of Newcastle
Rachel Iampolski, Geography, RMIT University
Dr Rachel Joy, Criminology, Australian College of Applied Psychology
Dr Rachel Loney-Howes, Criminology, University of Wollongong
Professor Rachel Nordlinger, Linguistics, University of Melbourne
Dr Rachel Thompson, Public Health, University of Sydney
Dr Rachel Toovey, Physiotherapy, University of Melbourne
Rachele Gore, Microbiology, RMIT University
Dr Radha O’Meara, Creative Writing, University of Melbourne
Radha Pathy, Psychology, Macquarie University
Associate Professor Raimondo Bruno, Psychology, University of Tasmania
Dr Randa Abdel-Fattah, Sociology, Macquarie University
Dr Rea Saunders, Indigenous Studies, University of Queensland
Dr Rebecca Ananian-Welsh, Law, University of Queensland
Rebecca Clements, Urban Planning, University of Melbourne
Dr Rebecca Colvin, Social Science, Australian National University
Dr Rebecca Defina, Linguistics, University of Melbourne
Rebecca Hiscock, Criminology, RMIT University
Dr Rebecca Olive, Cultural Studies, University of Queensland
Dr Rebecca Runting, Geography, University of Melbourne
Dr Rebecca Wheatley, Ecology, University of Tasmania
Dr Renae Fomiatti, Sociology, La Trobe University
Renee Cosgrave, Fine Art, Monash University
Dr Rhian Morgan, Anthropology, James Cook University
Dr Riccarda Peters, Neuroscience, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Richard McDermid, Science, Macquarie University
Rifaie Tammas, Politics, University of Sydney
Dr Rimi Khan, Cultural Studies, RMIT University
Ritika Skand Vohra, Fashion, RMIT University
Professor Rob Moodie, Public Health, University of Melbourne
Dr Robert Boncardo, European Studies, University of Sydney
Associate Professor Robert Parkes, Education, University of Newcastle
Robert Polglase, Urban Studies, RMIT University
Dr Robin Bellingham, Education, Deakin University
Dr Robin Torrence, Archaeology, Australian Museum
Dr Robyn Babaeff, Education, Monash University
Robyn Boldy, Environmental Science, University of Queensland
Dr Robyn Schofield, Environmental Science, University of Melbourne
Dr Robyn Williams, Indigenous Health, Charles Sturt University
Dr Roger Alsop, Arts, University of Melbourne
Romana Begicevic, Health, Curtin University
Dr Ronnie Scott, Writing, RMIT University
Rosalie Willacy, Conservation, University of Queensland
Rose Macaulay, Psychology, University of Melbourne
Rosemary Gilby, Education, Monash University
Dr Rosey Billington, Linguistics, University of Melbourne
Roshan Sharma, Conservation, RMIT University
Rosie Joy Barron, Education, University of Melbourne
Dr Rosie Welch, Education, Monash University
Professor Rosita Henry, Anthropology, James Cook University
Rowena Booth, Education, RMIT University
Associate Professor Rowena Maguire, Environmental Law, Queensland University of Technology
Emeritus Professor Russell Meares, Psychiatry, University of Sydney
Dr Russell Richards, Systems Modelling, University of Queensland
Dr Ruth De Souza, Nursing, RMIT University
Dr Ruth Ford, History, La Trobe University
Dr Ruth Gamble, History, La Trobe University
Dr Ruth Morgan, History, Australian National University
Dr Ruth Richards, Feminist Theory, RMIT University
Dr Ryan Al-Natour, Teacher Education, Charles Sturt University
Dr Ryan Frazer, Indigenous Studies, Macquarie University
Dr Ryan Gustafsson, Philosophy, University of Melbourne
Sab D’Souza, Visual Arts, University of Technology Sydney
Sabrina Nemorin, Health, RMIT University
Dr Sadhbh Byrne, Psychology, University of Melbourne
Dr Sahar Ghumkhor, Criminology, University of Melbourne
Dr Sal Clark, International Relations, Swinburne University
Dr Sally Baker, Education, University of NSW
Sally Olds, Creative Writing, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Sally Treloyn, Ethnomusicology, University of Melbourne
Dr Sam Schulzq, Education, Federation University
Associate Professor Samantha Ashby, Occupational Therapy, University of Newcastle
Dr Samantha Balaton-Chrimes, Politics, Deakin University
Samantha Bennett, Education, RMIT University
Samantha Colledge, Public Health, University of NSW
Samantha Mannix, Public Health, University of Melbourne
Dr Samantha McMahon, Education, University of Sydney
Sancintya Simpson, Fine Art, Griffith University
Associate Professor Sandie Suchet-Pearson, Geography, Macquarie University
Dr Sandra D’Urso, Theatre and Performance Studies, University of Melbourne
Sandra Penman, Forest Science, University of Melbourne
Associate Professor Sango Mahanty, Geography, Australian National University
Sara Fuller, Geography, Macquarie University
Associate Professor Sara Motta, Politics, University of Newcastle
Professor Sarah Bekessy, Ecology, RMIT University
Sarah Callahan, Gender Studies, Swinburne University
Dr Sarah Casey, Communication, University of the Sunshine Coast
Sarah Gurr, Education, University of Newcastle
Dr Sarah Holcombe, Anthropology, University of Queensland
Sarah Jane Jones, Communications, University of Technology Sydney
Professor Sarah Larkins, Health, James Cook University
Dr Sarah MacLean, Sociology, La Trobe University
Professor Sarah Maddison, Politics, University of Melbourne
Sarah McColl-Gausden, Ecology, University of Melbourne
Sarah McCook, Gender Studies, RMIT University
Dr Sarah Milne, Human Geography, Australian National University
Dr Sarah Pinto, History, Deakin University
Sarah Robertson, Geography, RMIT University
Dr Sarah Young, Education, University of Melbourne
Dr Sascha Fuller, Anthropology, University of Newcastle
Scheherazade Bloul, Politics, Deakin University
Scott Lyon, Communications, Swinburne University
Dr Scott Webster, Cultural Studies, Sydney University
Dr Seán Kerins, Politics, Australian National University
Dr Sean Lowry, Art, University of Melbourne
Dr Sebastian Cordoba, Social Work, RMIT University
Dr Serene Ho, Land Administration, RMIT University
Sertan Saral, Gender Studies, University of Sydney
Shaez Mortimer, Criminology, RMIT University
Dr Shakira Hussein, Sociology, University of Melbourne
Dr Shannon Woodcock, Indigenous Education, RMIT University
Dr Sharon Andrews, Public Policy, RMIT University
Dr Sharon Cooper, Education, University of Newcastle
Sharon Reid, Environmental Science, Federation University
Sharon Simon, Criminology, RMIT University
Shaunagh O’Sullivan, Mental Health, University of Melbourne
Dr Shayne beaver, Design, Queensland University of Technology
Associate Professor Shelley Marshall, Law, RMIT University
Shelly McGrath, Indigenous Studies, University of Newcastle
Dr Sherridan Emery, Education, University of Tasmania
Shirley Clifton, Education, University of Newcastle
Dr Sianan Healy, History, La Trobe University
Associate Professor Sigi Jottkandt, English, University of NSW
Professor Simon Batterbury, Environmental Studies, University of Melbourne
Simon Christie, Linguistics, University of Melbourne
Simona Castricum, Architecture, University of Melbourne
Dr Simone Louwhoff, Conservation, Federation University
Dr Simone Schmidt, Mental Health, University of Melbourne
Simone Sherriff, Public Health, University of Sydney
Siobhán Costigan, Communications, University of Technology Sydney
Dr Siobhan Irving, Anthropology, Macquarie University
Dr Siobhan McDonnell, Law, Australian National University
Siri Hayes, Fine Art, Monash university
Dr Sky Croeser, Internet Studies, Curtin University
Somaieh Ebrahimi, Sociology, RMIT University
Sonia Hines, Public Health, Flinders University
Sonia Qadir, Law, University of NSW
Soon-Tzu Speechley, Architecture, University of Melbourne
Dr Sophia Imran, Professional Studies, University of Southern Queensland
Sophie Hindes, Criminology, University of Melbourne
Dr Sophie Hollitt, Physics, University of Adelaide
Sophie Langley, Creative Arts, RMIT University
Sophie Pezzutto, Anthropology, Australian National University
Dr Sophie Rudolph, Education, University of Melbourne
Sophie Russell, Law, University of Technology Sydney
Sophie Smit, Cognitive Science, Macquarie University
Sophie-May Kerr, Geography, University of Wollongong
Soraya Zwahlen, Biology, Australian National University
Dr Stefan Lie, Design, University of Technology Sydney
Dr Stefanie Plage, Sociology, University of Queensland
Stella Marr, Archivist, University of Melbourne
Dr Stephanie Lavau, Sociology, University of Melbourne
Dr Stephanie Lusby, Anthropology, La Trobe University
Dr Stephen Atkinson, Art, University of SA
Dr Stephen Bell, Social Sciences, University of NSW
Dr Stephen Dann, Marketing, Australian National University
Professor Stephen Muecke, Cultural Studies, Flinders University
Dr Steven Geroe, Law, La Trobe University
Steven Kickbusch, Education, Queensland University of Technology
Stevie Howson, Law, University of Wollongong
Stuart Geddes, Communications, RMIT University
Professor Stuart Parsons, Biologist, Queensland University of Technology
Professor Stuart Phinn, Geography, University of Queensland
Sudha Soma, Business, University of Southern Queensland
Professor Sue Jackson, Geography, Griffith University
Dr Sue Meares, Psychology, Macquarie University
Professor Sue O’Connor, Archaeology, Australian National University
Professor Sujatha Fernandes, Sociology, University of Sydney
Dr Susan Clarke, Health, University of Sydney
Dr Susan Olney, Public Policy, University of Melbourne
Dr Susan Potter, Film Studies, University of Sydney
Dr Susanne Gannon, Education, Western Sydney University
Associate Professor Susie Moloney, Urban Planning, RMIT University
Suzannah Henty, Art History, University of Melbourne
Dr Suzanne Macqueen, Education, University of Newcastle
Dr Suzy Killmister, Philosophy, Monash university
Taiba Khelwaty, Education, Flinders University
Dr Tal Fitzpatrick, Visual Arts, University of Melbourne
Talei Mangioni, Pacific Studies, Australian National University
Tallace Bissett, Criminology, RMIT University
Dr Tamara Borovica, Social Sciences, University of Melbourne
Dr Tania Canas, Arts, University of Melbourne
Dr Tanja Dreher, Media, University of NSW
Tanya Eccleston, Fine Art, RMIT University
Dr Tanya King, Anthropology, Deakin University
Tasnim Sammak, Education, Monash University
Tayhla Ryder, Anthropology, Macquarie University
Taylah Gray, Law, University of Newcastle
Taylor Hardwick, Media, Swinburne University
Professor Ted Goranson, Information Science, Griffith University
Teresa Capetola, Health Promotion, Deakin university
Terri Ann Quan Sing, Literary Studies, La Trobe University
Dr Terry Leahy, Sociology, University of Newcastle
Tessa Toumbourou, Geography, University of Melbourne
Professor Thalia Anthony, Law, University of Technology Sydney
Thao Nguyen, Art History, RMIT University
Dr Thao Phan, Media Studies, Deakin University
Associate Professor Theresa Petray, Sociology, James Cook University
Dr Thomas Baudinette, International Studies, Macquarie University
Thomas Moore, Sociology, RMIT University
Dr Thomas Mullaney, Ecology, University of NSW
Dr Thomas Naderer, Biochemistry, Monash University
Thomas Norman, Public Health, La Trobe University
Professor Thomas Reuter, Anthropology, University of Melbourne
Tianna Killoran, History, James Cook University
Tierney Marey, Equity, Diversity and Inclusion, University of NSW
Tim Calabria, History, La Trobe University
Dr Tim Curran, Ecology, Lincoln University
Dr Tim Doherty, Ecology, University of Sydney
Dr Tim Werner, Geography, University of Melbourne
Dr Timo Rissanen, Fashion, University of Technology Sydney
Dr Timothy Jones, History, La Trobe University
Tina Grandinetti, Urban Studies, RMIT University
Tinonee Pym, Communications, Swinburne University
Dr Toby Fitch, Creative Writing, University of Sydney
Dr Toby Freeman, Public Health, Flinders University
Dr Toby Reed, Architecture, University of Melbourne
Dr Tom Heenan, Australian Studies, Monash University
Dr Tom Roberts, Geography, UNSW Canberra
Professor Tony Bennett, Cultural Studies, Western Sydney University
Emeritus Professor Tony Dalton, Urban Policy, RMIT University
Tony Williams, History, Monash University
Associate Professor Tooran Alizadeh, Urbanism, University of Sydney
Dr Trent Brown, Geography, University of Melbourne
Dr Tresa LeClerc, Communications, RMIT University
Professor Trevor Lithgow, Microbiology, Monash University
Dr Trevor Mccandless, Education, Deakin University
Dr Tristan Duncan, Public Health, La Trobe University
Tristan Ryan, Heritage, University of Sydney
Tyler King, Environmental Science, Deakin University
Tyler Riordan, Tourism, University of Queensland
Dr Tyne Daile Sumner, Literature, University of Melbourne
Una Stone, Criminology, RMIT University
Professor Valerie Harwood, Education, University of Sydney
Professor Vanessa Lemm, Philosophy, Flinders University
Vicki Holliday, Health, University of Newcastle
Associate Professor Vicki McKenzie, Educational Psychology, University of Melbourne
Vickie Zhang, Geography, University of Melbourne
Dr Victoria Mason, Political Science, Murdoch University
Dr Victoria Stead, Anthropology, Deakin University
Dr Victoria Tedeschi, Literary Studies, Deakin University
Dr Vince Polito, Cognitive Science, Macquarie University
Professor Wanning Sun, Media, University of Technology Sydney
Dr Wendy Bunston, Social Work, La Trobe University
Associate Professor Wendy Steele, Urban Planning, RMIT University
Associate Professor Wendy Wright, Conservation, Federation University
Yasaman Samie, Fashion, RMIT University
Dr Yasmine Musharbash, Anthropology, Australian National University
Adjunct Professor Yoland Wadsworth, Sociology, RMIT University
Dr Yung En Chee, Ecology, University of Melbourne
Dr Yuri Cath, Philosophy, La Trobe University
Professor Yves De Deene, Biomedical Engineering, Macquarie University
Dr Yves Rees, History, La Trobe University
Dr Zoe Dzunko, Writing, RMIT University
Professor Zoë Laidlaw, History, University of Melbourne
Zoe Teh, Mental Health, University of Melbourne
Dr Zoe Thomas, English, La Trobe University
Dr Zora Simic, History, University of NSW
Dr Zukeyka Zevallos, Sociology, Swinburne University
The Australian government is in talks with pharmaceutical company Pfizer about potentially supplying its COVID-19 vaccine. The company has also secured preliminary clearance to apply for a type of fast-tracked regulatory approval for this vaccine.
But even if clinical trials showed this vaccine was safe and effective, Australia couldn’t make enough doses. We just don’t have the manufacturing capacity or technology in place.
So, has Australia missed a trick in not tooling up for these mRNA vaccines?
What are mRNA vaccines?
mRNA vaccines are coated molecules of mRNA, similar to DNA, that carry the instructions for making a viral protein.
After injection into muscle, the mRNA is taken up by cells. Ribosomes, the cell’s protein factories, read the mRNA instructions and make the viral protein. These new proteins are exported from cells and the rest of the immunisation process is identical to other vaccines: our immune system mounts a response by recognising the proteins as foreign and developing antibodies against them.
mRNA vaccines work by delivering instructions to cells to make viral proteins. The body then makes these proteins, and the immune system recognises them and mounts an immune response.Created with BioRender.com, Author provided
mRNA vaccines have several advantages. Their production process is almost identical for any possible mRNA. This means mRNA vaccines can be rapidly designed for new viruses or strains. This speed of design is why the COVID-19 mRNA vaccines are current frontrunners, and will probably be the first to get approval by the US Food and Drug Administration.
mRNA vaccines can be potentially quicker and cleaner to make than other vaccines. Unlike other types of vaccines made in living cells such as chicken eggs or genetically modified cell cultures, mRNA molecules can be made in an apparatus called a bioreactor. Some mRNA vaccines, such as Imperial College London’s vaccine now undergoing testing, are even self-replicating. This means the mRNA can copy itself inside our cells, so protein production lasts longer and, potentially, fewer doses are needed.
However, mRNA vaccines also have some disadvantages. As a new technology, no mRNA vaccine has ever been approved for clinical use. Unlike other vaccines, we do not have years of data on the safety of this type of vaccine to reassure the public.
They also need to be stored at very low temperatures. For example, Moderna’s needs to be kept at -20℃ and Pfizer’s at -70℃. At normal refrigerator temperatures of 2-8℃, they tend to last just a day or two. This means distribution may be difficult, especially in the developing world.
And crucially, most countries — including Australia — don’t have the mRNA manufacturing capability needed to make these vaccines at the required scale. So while the production of mRNA is cleaner, it may also be slowed by supply chain issues.
Which mRNA vaccines are the frontrunners?
There are six mRNA COVID-19 vaccines in clinical trials:
mRNA-1273 (Moderna, US) and BNT162 (Pfizer/BioNTech, Germany), both in phase 3 trials
COVAC1 (Imperial College, UK) and Covidvax (People’s Liberation Army Academy of Military Sciences/Walvax Biotech, China), both in phase 1.
The Moderna and CureVac candidates are both part of the COVAX initiative, a World Health Organisation-sponsored drive to boost vaccine research and give member countries a wider range of potential candidates.
As a COVAX member, Australia will have access to buy and distribute either of these vaccines if successful in clinical trials, and could also license the technology to make the vaccines domestically.
But Australia does not currently have the capacity to manufacture clinical-grade mRNA vaccines. Melbourne-headquartered global biotech firm CSL can make protein-based vaccines, and has expanded its capacity to include DNA/viral vaccines, but not mRNA.
CSIRO has facilities for making clinical-grade proteins for phase 1 and 2 clinical trials, but not vaccine-grade mRNA, and not at the scale needed for clinical trials, let alone for immunising the entire population.
Concerns raised
Australian scientists recently raised concerns about the lack of capacity for mRNA vaccine production.
In August, federal science and technology minister Karen Andrews, called on Australian businesses to come forward if they can help with vaccine production and distribution.
It is not publicly known whether any company responded indicating it could make mRNA vaccines.
With the federal government prepared to invest A$330 million in research for COVID vaccines and treatment, and mRNA vaccines clearly leading the global race, it’s possible some Australian biotech firms could pivot to mRNA production.
The CSL global product pipeline includes an mRNA vaccine against the flu in pre-clinical development. But CSL has issued no public statement about its capacity for Australian production of clinical-grade mRNA vaccines if this, or one of the COVID-19 mRNA candidate vaccines, requires a local supply. CSL has not declared any desire to establish mRNA manufacturing in Australia at this time.
So what should Australia do?
Australia’s first option will be to buy doses from overseas. But despite the COVAX deal it may still be at the end of a long queue, given the hundreds of millions of doses of Pfizer mRNA vaccine already pre-purchased by the United States, Japan and the European Union, and similar deals for these and other countries in negotiation with Moderna.
Compare this with Germany, where a planned rollout of the Pfizer vaccine to the elderly will start 24 hours after emergency approval, potentially as early as this month.
With the dose costing US$20-40 per person, even if we can secure doses, it could cost up to A$1 billion to immunise the Australian population if we buy the vaccine.
The second option is to to set up production of mRNA vaccines here, potentially led by a biotech firm with approval to make clinical-grade therapeutics. As a rough estimate, we calculate it could cost as little as A$100 million to make sufficient vaccine domestically. But it will mean a significant lag time, perhaps 12 months, to set up the infrastructure and train staff.
The lack of capacity to make mRNA is both a threat and an opportunity for the Australian biotechnology sector. Given the speed at which this technology has been applied to COVID-19, it would be useful to have this production capacity in Australia, so we can quickly respond to future pandemics.
Beyond vaccines, mRNA could be used for other promising therapies for cancer and other genetic diseases.
There is also the opportunity for creative innovation in this area. Tesla used its robotics capacity to create an mRNA synthesis platform for German biotech firm CureVac.
With investment by the federal government and willingness from the private sector, Australia could be part of this innovation wave. This technology would be useful for COVID-19 mRNA vaccines, future pandemics, and future medicines more broadly.
The author thanks the following researchers for contributions that helped inform this article: Damian Purcell, Peter Doherty Institute, University of Melbourne; Colin Pouton, Monash Institute of Pharmaceutical Sciences; Thomas Preiss, John Curtin School of Medical Research, ANU; Pall Thordarson, UNSW; and Nigel McMillan, Griffith University.
This year marks a decade since the end of the Millennium Drought, when flood waters reached the mouth of the River Murray in 2010. For 1,200 days prior, Australia’s most iconic river had ceased flowing to the sea, causing populations of fish and other aquatic animals to plummet.
In particular, native migratory fish, including congolli (Pseudaphritis urvilli) and pouched lamprey (Geotria australis), were severely impacted by barriers to migration — such as barrages and weirs — and a lack of river flow.
However, our research has shown some clever engineering and increasing volumes of water for the environment are helping congolli and pouched lamprey to bounce back in record numbers.
With native fish in the Murray-Darling Basin just a fraction of what they were before European colonisation, rebuilding populations will be a long process. But learning from successes like this along the way will aid in the journey toward a healthier river.
An adult female congolli. These fish will spend 3-4 years in the River Murray before returning to the ocean to spawn.Brenton Zampatti, Author provided
What happened to fish in the Millennium Drought?
From 2001 to 2009, south-eastern Australia experienced the most severe drought in recorded history.
Unprecedented low rainfall and water extraction for irrigation and human consumption reduced water flows in the lower Murray by around 70%. Water levels in the Lower Lakes at the terminus of the river system fell to more than one metre below sea level.
To prevent saltwater from the ocean mixing with critical storages of freshwater, tidal barrages (dam-like structures) were closed, and the River Murray was disconnected from the sea.
This was a big problem for a number of migratory species, including pouched lamprey and congolli, which need to migrate between freshwater and saltwater to complete their lifecycles.
During the Millennium Drought, no lamprey were seen in the Lower Lakes and Coorong, while numbers of juvenile congolli declined. After more than three years of barrage closure, local populations were threatened with extinction.
But in late 2010, both species were saved by major flooding, when the Murray once again flowed to the sea, and abundances have continued to steadily improve over the past decade.
Several management initiatives were also critical in supporting recovery, even through the most recent drought. Notably, the installation of fish ladders and better water management. Fish ladders are water-filled channels with a series of steps that enable fish to swim around or over dams and weirs.
A fish ladder on the Murray Barrages. Fish swim through this structure to move from the estuary. into the freshwater lakes and River Murray. Without fish ladders, fish are seldom able to move past the barrages.Brenton Zampatti, Author provided
Supporting fish migrations
Native fish populations in the Murray-Darling Basin are estimated to be approximately 10% of those pre-European settlement. Barriers to fish movement and altered river flows are two principal causes of decline.
The Murray Barrages were constructed in the 1930s, without consideration of fish passage, and it was 70 years before the first fish ladder was constructed in 2003.
In 2020, there are now 11 fish ladders spread across the Murray Barrages, and our research has shown they effectively support vital migrations.
More fish ladders have been built on upstream weirs, together opening more than 2,000 kilometres of the River Murray to fish migration.
However, water must be available to operate the fish ladders, and this is where environmental water plays a role.
In 2009-10, approximately 120 gigalitres of environmental water were delivered across the Basin. By 2017-18, this volume was greater than 1,200 gigalitres and included substantial volumes across the Murray Barrages.
This increase has enabled the River Murray to continuously flow to the sea, restoring its natural characteristics, albeit at a significantly reduced volume.
What’s more, water for the environment has supported constant operation of the barrage fish ladders since 2010 — a huge win for lamprey and congolli.
The bounce back
From the lows of the Millennium Drought we have so far this year caught a record 101 individual pouched lamprey moving through the barrage fish ladders and proceeding upstream. This is up from last year’s catch of 61 fish.
Pouched lamprey has been found in record numbers.Brenton Zampatti, Author provided
Congolli populuations are also booming. From 2007 to 2010, we sampled a combined total of just over 1,000 congolli. Compare this to the summer of 2014-15, when we sampled more than 200,000 passing through the fishways.
Congolli is now one of the most abundant fish in the Coorong and upstream of the barrages in the Lower Lakes.
What the rest of the basin can learn from this
Fish ladders and environmental water have been successful in supporting fish migration at the Murray Barrages, yet across the Murray-Darling Basin, thousands of barriers remain and more are being considered, particularly in the northern Basin.
These barriers can impede the movements of fish that migrate wholly within freshwater, such as golden perch (Macquaria ambigua) and the threatened silver perch (Bidyanus bidyanus). This includes the spawning migrations of adults and downstream dispersal of juveniles.
Across the Murray-Darling Basin, fish populations are just 10% of what they were before colonisation.AAP Image/Dean Lewins
Mitigating the impacts of existing and new structures on the movement of fish is crucial to restoring native fish populations in the Murray-Darling Basin.
To help restore migratory fish throughout the basin, there must be greater understanding of the movement requirements of all fish life stages, the construction of effective fish ladders, and river flows must be sufficient to facilitate downstream movement, including of eggs and larval fish. The removal of barriers may also be a feasible option.
In any case, after 15 years of experience in the lower River Murray we’ve learnt protecting migratory fish is best achieved when researchers, the community, water managers and river operators collaborate closely. Such partnerships are the bedrock to establishing a healthier river.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Peter S. Field, Head of Humanities and Creative Arts and Associate Professor of American History, University of Canterbury
Just about every pollster and pundit in the United States predicts Joe Biden will prevail in the popular vote on November 3. Current polling puts the Democrat candidate somewhere between seven and eight points ahead.
For context, Hillary Clinton won the popular vote by 2% in 2016. If the polls are accurate, there is next to no chance that Donald Trump can win in 2020. He would need to close the gap to within 5%, likely under 4%.
The role of the Electoral College is crucial, however. George W. Bush’s victory in 2000 and Trump’s in 2016 demonstrated a central fact of American presidential elections: they are indirect. The popular vote does not determine the outcome.
Al Gore and Hillary Clinton know this stark political truth all too well. Despite outpolling their opponents, neither won the presidency. To become president, a candidate must garner a majority of electoral college votes, the total of which is equal to the full membership of the House and Senate. In 2020 the magic number is 270.
So, could there be a second upset? What might we watch to get an early clue of the outcome?
It’s Biden’s to lose
Firstly, the Republicans would have to close strongly. Trump has narrowed the gap in the most recent polling cycles. And he has barnstormed the battleground states until the last moment.
But in the COVID age, voting by mail may have changed the dynamic significantly. A record number of Americans have already voted, and nothing anyone can do will alter those votes cast.
Early voting: a US postal worker sorts ballots ahead of the election day deadline.GettyImages
The Trump-Pence ticket claims to have made inroads into Black and Hispanic voting blocs. The Republicans could score significant gains with males, too. Ironically, they could close the popular vote gap by polling better in California, New Jersey and New York but still accrue no advantage. Gaining minority support in blue states offers no improvement to the Republican electoral map.
By contrast, pollsters predict Biden winning the Electoral College vote along with a decisive majority of the popular vote.
Presumably he will win the states Clinton won in 2016. Beyond that he only has to flip (or hold, with 2016 being the outlier) the “blue wall” of Midwestern states: Pennsylvania, Michigan, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. Biden is from Scranton, Pennsylvania. Unlike Clinton, he has campaigned heavily in these states.
Democratic presidential candidate and former vice president Joe Biden at a drive-in rally in Pittsburgh near the end of the campaign.AAP
The states to watch
For all of us watching halfway across the world, look out for these early indicators of an upset — if one is in the offing.
Florida: Trump must win here, Texas and the rest of the South. Florida will be an early indicator. If early returns show Trump well ahead, if he’s polling well with Latinos and African Americans, if returns in Miami-Dade County are below predictions — then the Republicans prevail in the Sunshine State. A Trump re-election becomes possible, if still unlikely.
North Carolina (and Georgia): Trump must win the South. If early returns have Trump clearly ahead in Florida, then it’s very likely that he carries North Carolina and holds the South. Bonus: the senate race between the popular Democrat Cal Cunningham and incumbent Thom Tillis might be suggestive. If Tillis is winning handily, it’s likely Trump is stronger than pollsters had predicted. A Democratic Senate becomes less likely.
Pennsylvania: Biden is from Pennsylvania and the Democrats have hugely outspent Trump in the Keystone State (85% of more than US$700 million spent on TV ads has gone to Pennsylvania broadcasters and to those in the other big five swing states).
The Democrats will lose many of the rural counties, so they must poll well in Philadelphia, its suburbs and in Pittsburgh. Early returns from Philadelphia must be overwhelmingly Democratic. If the Democratic majority is less than expected or fewer turn up to vote, then Pennsylvania is very much in play.
Biden may have upset some voters for his comments in the final presidential debate about opposing fracking or drilling for oil on federal land. The oil industry remains a key economic factor in Pennsylvania politics.
Michigan and Minnesota: Here the down-ticket Michigan race might trump the presidential returns. A key early indicator would be the battle for the senate between Gary Peters and the Republican John James. The latter is popular but Peters has consistently polled at least five points ahead of his opponent.
If that race is tight, if James is close, then Michigan would be in play for Trump. Popular sentiment against COVID lockdowns and protests over the police killing of George Floyd might be greater than people were willing to confess to pollsters, with far-reaching implications for the returns on the night. A similar dynamic could be seen in Minnesota.
Donald Trump at a campaign rally in the swing state of Michigan in the final days of campaigning.AAP
A November surprise?
It is entirely possible that Biden prevails easily, and the Republicans lose North Carolina, Michigan, Minnesota, Arizona and Pennsylvania. Trump goes out not with a bang, but with a whimper.
It is also possible the election proves far tighter than the pundits would have it. All eyes would likely be on Pennsylvania and its 20 electoral votes. If that’s the case, then looking for early indicators was a fool’s errand. It will be at least four days until we have an idea of the final tally in Pennsylvania, with its disputed postal ballot deadline.
Hang on to your seats. If Trump pulls off another astonishing, deeply implausible upset it might be time to recall the battle of Yorktown and a tale as old as the American republic.
On October 19 1781, Lord Charles Cornwallis, Knight Companion of The Most Noble Order of the Garter, surrendered to George Washington and the American Continental Army. Defeated yet defiant, Cornwallis ordered the Redcoat band to accompany proceedings with the tune “The World Turned Upside Down”. If Trump wins Florida, you’ll know to cue up the old jig.
With an election taking place in the midst of a pandemic and an incumbent president committed to undermining the integrity and legitimacy of the electoral process, voting day in the US is likely to be very different this year.
The most obvious difference is many Americans won’t actually be going to the polls because more than half of all voters have already cast their ballots, either by early in-person voting or mail-in voting.
How many people voted by mail?
According to the US Elections Project, some 93 million Americans have already voted this year, more than 67% of the total votes cast in 2016.
And, notwithstanding President Donald Trump’s continual attempts to denigrate voting by mail, 63.5% of those early votes have been mail-in ballots.
Over 91 million mail-in votes have been requested in total this year and, as of the end of last weekend, almost 32 million were still yet to be returned
This will undoubtedly delay the vote count in many states immediately after the election — meaning we may not have a clear winner today.
If Biden ends up winning by a large margin on election night, the uncertainty will abate.AP/Andrew Harnik
Arrangements for processing and counting mail-in votes differ from state to state, as does the length of time after November 3 that mail-in votes can be received. The US Supreme Court has complicated matters by supporting a post-election day extension in Pennsylvania and North Carolina, despite Republican attempts to block this. However, the court has denied any extra time for Wisconsin voters.
There are also massive problems with the capacity of the US Postal Service to deliver mail-in votes on time, due in no small part to Trump’s refusal to provide it with a bailout earlier this year. In August, he even claimed he was opposed to USPS funding increases because he didn’t want states to make it easier for Americans to vote by mail.
Because of the contentiousness of mail-in voting, which Trump claims without evidence will lead to widespread voter fraud, it will not be surprising if there are more lawsuits after the election over late vote counting. That, too, could delay the results even further.
The Supreme Court has already been involved in this year’s election over deadlines for receipt of mail-in votes.
It is difficult to anticipate what other issues might reach the court by election day, but the Center for Public Integrity has identified hundreds of court cases across the US related to voter identification laws, signatures on mail-in ballots, felony disenfranchisement and a host of other issues designed to restrict and suppress voting.
Trump’s most recent Supreme Court nominee, Amy Coney Barrett, reinforces its conservative majority. There has been much debate over whether she should recuse herself from any case that involves Trump’s re-election, but, so far, she has refused to answer that question.
There could be legal challenges to any recounts, particularly in close battleground states, but it is unlikely there will be a repeat of anything like the court’s intervention in the 2000 presidential contest. Democrats now know what they need to do to sustain a constitutionally acceptable recount of votes.
Trump has made an appeal for 50,000 volunteers to be present at polling locations to ‘monitor’ the vote.Morry Gash/AP
Why do exit polls matter?
The other thing to watch on election day are the exit polls. With fewer people voting in person, the exit polls could be less reliable than in normal years.
Why does this matter? Exit polls are a vital ingredient in the mix of data that television networks use to project the winner in each state and, ultimately, the winner of the election.
Edison Research, which conducts exit polling for the major television networks, has already adapted its polling techniques] to accommodate the record numbers of early voters.
But with fewer voters exiting the polls, the networks will still need to be more cautious than usual when projecting the winner — especially if the contest is close and turns on the outcome in a handful of states.
Could there be violence?
Perhaps the most worrisome prospect is the spectre of violence on election day.
Trump has made an appeal for 50,000 volunteers to be present at polling locations to “monitor” the vote, an unsavoury practice that has long been associated with voter intimidation and suppression in the US.
For various complex reasons, a US District Court judge ruled in 2018 that a previous agreement between the two major parties not to intimidate or suppress minority voters could expire, which means the gloves are off this year.
According to a report in The Washington Post, Trump’s call for volunteers has prompted an enthusiastic response from neo-Nazis and right-wing activists, leading many state election and law enforcement officials to prepare for voter intimidation, arrests and even violence on election day.
When will we know who won?
The unique characteristics of this year’s presidential election mean the outcome may still be uncertain on the evening of November 3 (early afternoon on November 4 in Australia). It is also possible it could take two or three days before the result is known in the key battleground states of Michigan, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin.
It is also possible it could take two or three days before the result is known in the key battleground states of Michigan, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin.TRACIE VAN AUKEN.EPA
Democratic challenger Joe Biden is ahead in the polls in each of these states and, if he wins them, it is highly unlikely Trump will reach the 270 electoral votes needed to secure re-election.
If Biden ends up winning by a large margin on election night, the uncertainty will abate, as will the likelihood of any further legal challenges by Trump. But the prospect of this being apparent on election night is highly doubtful and the suspense of the 2020 presidential election may well continue for a few days more.
The most important of the five measures the Reserve Bank announced on Tuesday is the one that won’t whirr into place for a very long time.
Others start immediately. On Thursday the bank will wade into the market and start buying up bonds issued by Australian governments.
It’ll buy Commonwealth government bonds with five to seven years left to run on Mondays, Commonwealth bonds with seven to ten years left to run on Thursdays, and bonds issued by state governments on Wednesdays.
It’ll spend about A$5 billion a week, every week for six months until it has unloaded $100 billion.
1. $5 billion per week, week in, week out
As before, when it did this on a more limited scale, it won’t be buying the bonds from the governments that issued them, but from third parties such as super funds and investment managers.
What’s (very) different is that it will be forcing a particular sum of money into their hands.
Its earlier bond buying program (which will continue) spent only as much as was needed to achieve an interest rate target.
The new program will spend a particular sum of created money (the Reserve Bank creates it out of nothing) every week for six months, whatever happens to rates.
It’ll be true “quantitative easing”, in that it’s the quantity of money that will matter, not the price.
Once in the hands of investors who would really rather own bonds, they’ll have to do something with it, such as investing in a business that employs people. That’s the theory.
As well, with bonds harder to find in Australia, fewer foreigners will move money here to buy them propping up the Australian dollar. That should allow the Australian dollar to fall, making local businesses more competitive against those from overseas. That’s the other part of the theory.
On Tuesday, RBA Governor Philip Lowe ditched the fuzziness.LOUIE DOUVIS/AAP
2. Cash rate near zero
And that’s just one of five measures Reserve Bank Governor Philip Lowe announced this afternoon.
The once-watched cash rate which is the interest rate on unsecured overnight loans between banks, was cut to 0.25% in March amid hope that 0.25% was so low it wouldn’t need to be cut further.
Within days the actual cash rate at which banks transact business had fallen a good deal lower because, at 0.25%, many more of them wanted to lend than borrow. When it settled at about 0.14% the Reserve Bank didn’t bother to intervene to push it back up.
The new target of 0.10% will give banks almost no return for lending to each other and make borrowing from each other almost costless.
The separate rate for cash on deposit with the Reserve Bank will fall from 0.10% to as good as zero, 0.01%
If the cuts were passed on in full to bank customers they would cut the standard variable mortgage rate from around 3.2% to 3%. The rate on new mortgages would slide from 2.7% to 2.5%.
The rates on customer’s deposits, already near zero, would fall further.
3. Bond rate to 0.10%
The Reserve Bank had been targeting a three-year bond rate of 0.25%, buying as many bonds as were needed to keep it there. It’ll cut that target to 0.10% in line with its cut in the cash rate, buying as many bonds as are needed to get and keep the rate at 0.10%.
Three-year bonds are used to fund fixed three-year mortgages and personal and business loans. All will become even cheaper.
This bond-buying program, which will target the rate, is completely separate from, and additional to, the $5 billion per week the bank will spend buying longer-term bonds week in, week out.
4. Near-free loans to banks
Since March the government has been advancing money to private banks for three years for just 0.25%.
The more they expand their lending to business (and especially to small and medium sized business) the more it will it will advance them in accordance with a formula.
The formula won’t change but the rate will. From Thursday new loans under the program will be offered to banks for just 0.10%.
5. A commitment with teeth
Until now, the bank has been fuzzy about the circumstances in which it will eventually change course and start pushing rates back up.
the board will not increase the cash rate target until progress is being made towards full employment and it is confident that inflation will be sustainably within the 2–3 per cent target band
Whether or not “progress is being made” is subjective.
The commitment allowed the bank to assert that progress was being made and reverse course at its convenience.
Whether or not the bank was “confident” that inflation would be sustainably within its target band was even more subjective.
One word, big change
On Tuesday, Governor Philip Lowe ditched the fuzziness and replaced it with something measurable
The board will not increase the cash rate until “actual inflation” is sustainably within the 2% to 3% target range.
“For this to occur, wages growth will have to be materially higher than it is currently. This will require significant gains in employment and a return to a tight labour market.”
So prepared is the bank to bat for Australia that it won’t stop until there’s a “tight labour market”. And it has used the word “actual”.
No longer will the bank need to merely see “progress towards” an inflation rate of 2% to 3%. It will have to be faced with an “actual” inflation rate of 2% to 3%.
Low rates for a long, long time
Australia’s inflation rate hasn’t been sustainably between 2% and 3% for more than half a decade, and it is likely to be at least that long again until it gets back there, if ever.
Governor Lowe said the bank’s forecasts, to be published this Friday, will put the inflation rate at 1%. It’ll put wage growth at the lowest on record, less than 2%.
By tying the future of the cash rate to an actual inflation rate rather than a feeling about the inflation rate, Governor Lowe is tying the bank to a cash rate of close to zero for as far anyone can see.
It means that not only will it be as cheap as it has ever been to borrow (for a mortgage, a business, for anything) it means there’s no risk of that suddenly changing because the bank gets rush of blood to the head.
It has been billed as the most significant US election in generations, and with nearly 100 million votes already cast, it is well underway.
An estimated 50 million more votes are expected on the last day of in-person voting on Tuesday (Wednesday NZ time), with mail-in ballots still making their way through the postal service, including from overseas and military voters.
It is not only the White House up for grabs, but all 435 seats in the House of Representatives and 35 of the 100-seat Senate.
In addition, 11 gubernatorial (state governor) races, various state legislatures, and a plethora of local judges, sheriffs, school boards and supervisory roles are also on the ballot. A quick glance at a US ballot illustrates how America has more democratically elected positions per capita than any other country in the world.
In the year following more than 1,000 former federal prosecutors confirming President Donald Trump would be indicted if not for the current immunity the Oval Office provides him, Trump has stepped up rhetoric that any election that he does not win is “rigged”.
Then came the “October surprise” from The New York Times that the president has at least US$400 million in personally guaranteed loans due over the next possible term and previously undisclosed Chinese bank accounts. This has brought the president’s priorities under intense scrutiny alongside a flailing economy and federal mismanagement of the covid pandemic response.
Citing these concerns, formal endorsements of Trump’s political opponent, former Vice-President Joe Biden, have come from unlikely places. Republican national security veterans, GOP governors and nonpartisan communities of scientists and physicians have endorsed Biden, some for the first time in the history of their organisations.
A group of 73 high-level former GOP US National security officials from administrations spanning Reagan to Bush Jr wrote in an open letter that Trump is “dangerously unfit to serve another term”, citing his undermining of the rule of law, failure to lead Americans through the pandemic, and damage to the US’s global reputation.
More than 780 prominent Republicans and Democrats, including former defence secretaries, ambassadors, and retired military brass, also decried Trump, writing that:
[…] thanks to his disdainful attitude and his failures, our allies no longer trust or respect us and our enemies no longer fear us.
A chorus of Trump’s own former administration officials have joined The Lincoln Project, Republican Voters against Trump, 43 for Biden (featuring members of the George W. Bush administration) and former staffers of late senator John McCain, to mount powerful testimonials targeting Trump’s base, independents and new voters.
The Biden camp has stressed a return to decency and cooperation, a United States of America. A popular ad encapsulates the message,
There is only one America. No Democratic rivers, no Republican mountains. Just this great land and all that’s possible on it with a fresh start. There is so much we can do if we choose to take on problems and not each other and choose a president who brings out our best.
Other “anyone but Trump” ads target voters who may have supported him in 2016 as a fiesty outsider, but have tired of the noise.
Ads, endorsements and of course polls are potentially useful indicators during the final week of voting. But what are some other trends that will likely impact electoral turnout and the results? Here are a few to look out for.
Millennial voter generation Against the tight margins of the 2016 election in a handful of decisive states, a new generation of voters has emerged who may tip the balance of power. They drove a higher turnout in the 2018 midterm election and are not only voting but running and winning office. Enter the millennials.
The US is on the cusp of a generational shift. This is the first US presidential election in which the millennial generation is now the largest voting-age cohort, displacing the baby boomers who have held the title since the 1970s.
Younger millennials, who may have spent the previous presidential election in a high school walk out, or participated in the March for Our Lives for gun safety, are now eligible to vote.
Older millennials, who are approaching 40, grew up with high school shootings and are now watching their own young children do lockdown drills, rewarded with a candy if they remain quietly hidden in the toilet with their feet up to avoid detection.
Heartstopping PSA on school shootings released by Sandy Hook Promise.
Amid concern about growing economic inequality, the millennials will likely be the first generation to be less financially secure than their parents, and the most likely to compare themselves with international OECD peers who enjoy universal healthcare, gun control and better financial support during the pandemic.
None of these issues is well represented by the current administration, and so Trump’s approval rating hovers around 28 percent among that age group.
On these crucial issues, different informational diets between generations, political parties, and even families could drive very different voting patterns.
But the millennial vote could be decisive.
Young people will have a big say in the outcome of the 2020 election. Image: Josh Edelson/AAP/EPA
Disinformation – word of the year? If “post-truth” was the Oxford Dictionary’s Word of the Year in 2016, “disinformation” is in the running for 2020.
Disinformation – the deliberate spreading of false or misleading information in order to deceive – is a growing problem in democratic elections. It was a key theme in the Republican-chaired Senate Intelligence Committee report into Russian interference in the 2016 election.
These reports documented key disinformation techniques, narratives and purpose. Akin to Russian “active measures”, disinformation is used to undermine authoritative sources of information by blurring the line between fact and faction.
The most popular narrative, according to this report, was the myth of “voter fraud”.
While the 2016 disinformation campaign centred on voter fraud, the 2020 version targets mail-in voting. These ballots, cast in the middle of covid-19, are at the heart of competing narratives about the pandemic itself.
In this election, there has been a catalogue of disinformation about covid-19. While scientists, physicians and public health authorities have repeatedly warned the public and officials to take action to protect public health, the Trump administration has generally downplayed its severity.
Calling it “just the flu”, Trump said the problem impacts “virtually nobody”, even after nearly a quarter of a million Americans died. Recent research has shown Trump himself is one of the largest superspreaders of
‘If I Can Get Better Anyone Can Get Better’: Trump On covid-19 Recovery. Video: NBC News
Some of that disinformation will affect how people cast their ballot. While 19 states have expanded mail-in ballot options as a result of the pandemic, others have made voting harder by closing voting places while not expanding alternate options.
Texas, for instance, refused to recognise covid-19 concerns as a valid reason for those under 65 to request a mail-in ballot, with South Carolina only recently reversing a similar restriction.
Disinformation about mail-in ballots is likely to feature in court challenges. Trump has insisted the results be known on election day, which would necessarily exclude mail-in ballots postmarked in time but not yet received through the mail, including those cast by overseas military voters.
He has repeatedly signalled that his appointees in the judicial system (which number in the hundreds) will help secure his win.
While it is unprecedented for a president to attack electoral integrity, state level actions are also important to consider.
Elections run at state, county level Voting in the US is not easy to summarise. Devoid of democracy sausages and a non-partisan federal elections commission, elections are run at the state and county level, from voter rolls to polling locations and everything in between.
Each state is in charge of its own election, and there are nearly as many systems as there are states.
Five states, including Oregon, vote entirely by mail. Five other states vote entirely on machine, including Georgia, with no traditional paper audit trail.
Other state variations include the option of early in-person voting, whether voting places are open on a Sunday, how far in advance you must register to vote, and requirements for voter ID.
Each US state has its own voting requirements, arrangements and ballots. Image: Juston Lane/AA/EPA
Each state’s ballots look different, with users selecting their choices via handmarked bubble sheets, hole punches or hanging chads, the latter made famous in the 2000 recount in Florida that delivered George W. Bush his first term.
One of the quirks of the US voting system is the electoral college. The college is essentially a distribution of electoral votes among the states according to population size, updated after every 10-year census.
In 2020, several large states are in the spotlight as toss-ups, including Texas, which carries a prize of 38 electoral votes in the race to 270. It will be one to watch on election day, with early voter turnout already surpassing its 2016 total.
Texas is also the site of one of the most blatant attempts at disenfranchisement, with the GOP failing in its attempt to stop more than 120,000 ballots already cast in one of its largest counties.
Until recently, states were not allowed to make changes to voting procedures without judicial oversight. Plans to close significant numbers of polling places in certain districts, for instance, had to go through pre-clearance processes.
However, these protections were dismantled by a US Supreme Court ruling in 2013. This year’s presidential election will be only the second without those protections, and voter disenfranchisement could result.
One key method of disenfranchisement could be mail-in ballots. In an interview in August, Trump said he planned to block funding for the US postal service to prevent increased voting by mail.
A Trump appointee to the head of the postal service in July recently oversaw the destruction and dismantling of 700 mail processing machines, leading to more delays.
Simple polls of voting intention do not capture voter disenfranchisement and intimidation.
Intimidation tactics have been increasing across several key states. In Pennsylvania, New Jersey and North Carolina, official Republican party mailers warned voters their voting history is a matter of public record.
When the Democrats win the White House and you didn’t do your part to stop it, your neighbours will know. Voting is a matter of public record.
Experts warn of potential violence and rioting after the result. Growing polarisation, extremist groups such as QAnon threatening the use of force, and the availability of tactical weapons are all warning signs.
This year has seen more than 8 million more gun purchases than 2019, and scholars warn of increasing militia activity. Trump has publicly praised supporters who commit violence, including the Kenosha shooter.
International allies are also concerned. After Trump used armed guards to teargas peaceful protesters in Washington DC (which Australia watched live as its reporters were bashed on air), the Scottish Parliament voted to suspend exports of riot shields, tear gas and rubber bullets to the United States.
Australia recently updated its “do not travel” advisory to the US, citing civil unrest around the election.
Regardless of the outcome of the election, some of the trends may continue beyond Inauguration Day on January 21, 2021, affecting not just the US but its relationships with allies and adversaries alike.
Australia would do well to watch carefully and wait for the final results.
In August, NSW government arts agency Create NSW held a consultation into regional arts funding. Their discussion paper noted the recent drought, bushfire, flood and COVID-19 crises would require “innovative thinking about how to make existing support go further”.
Their current A$455,000 annual grant will be redistributed among the organisations they exist to serve.
Findings of the consultation have yet to be released.
Funding off a low base
The unexpected announcement — made just days before Artstate, Regional Arts NSW’s annual state-wide conference — is the latest in a series of concerning developments in NSW arts funding.
Arts funding has also been implicated in allegations of grant rorting. A NSW parliamentary inquiry questioned if Premier Gladys Berejiklian declared a conflict of interest in regards to the $30 million infrastructure grant to the Riverina Conservatorium of Music in Wagga Wagga.
The grant — valued at more than all grants to the state’s 18 other conservatories combined — was awarded after Berejiklian was lobbied by local representative Daryl Maguire, currently under an ICAC investigation.
NSW arts investment is among the lowest per capita in Australia: excluding large organisations, in 2017 NSW spent $18 per person on arts and culture, while Victoria spent $31 per person.
Only around $10 million of the state’s $59 million Arts & Cultural Funding Program in 2019-20 was directed to regional artists and organisations.
Regional arts organisations — like the Tweed River Art Gallery — receive only a fraction of the state’s cultural budget.AAP Image/James Shrimpton
The redistribution of Regional Arts NSW’s funding, reports the Sydney Morning Herald, is to “make declining levels of arts funding stretch further”.
At the expense of their capacity to work together on shared priorities, the 14 partner organisations will receive a boost of $28,000 per year.
Artists in regional NSW have recently spoken out about what’s at stake for their practice and their livelihoods.
Wiradjuri artist Michael Lyons of Sandhills Artefacts in Narrander told The Guardian more regional support is needed, “because I’m not selling to shops, I’m not selling to tourists”.
Regional artists just need some centre point where they can go and say, ‘Can you help me with this? What’s going on here?’
Dedicated support for these artists is needed now more than ever.
Supporting tourism by supporting the arts
With international borders closed and local economies struggling, creative communities will be key to regional economic recovery.
The recent Australia Council report into domestic arts tourism found those travelling for arts events are “more likely to stay longer and spend more”.
Regional NSW festivals include Cementa, in the small town of Kandos.
Speaking to The Australian, CEO of the Tourism Transport Forum Margy Osmond highlighted the potential impact of the arts on a post-pandemic revival.
[The arts] are probably the top-of-the-list reason why you get return visitors […] People often don’t clock the impact that the arts has on regional tourism and regional development
This defunding of Regional Arts NSW undermines the state’s capacity to strengthen regional creative communities and enterprise exactly when that’s needed most.
The shrinking role of service organisations
This decision sets a disturbing precedent for the state’s industry bodies.
Service organisations like Regional Arts NSW strengthen the capacity of artists and organisations.
Service organisations focus on statewide thinking to identify common needs, support common purposes and represent key issues to government and to the public. NSW was once nation-leading in recognising the importance of these organisations.
But as of 2020, Create NSW no longer has a specific funding program for sector service organisations.
Writing NSW may not survive after losing their funding, and devolved funding programs — like the NSW Artists Grants, formerly administered by NAVA — have been taken in-house.
Devolving funding through service organisations provided artists support through the application process by expert arts staff. This support is especially crucial for regional artists.
In regional areas, an understanding of specific needs is vital to nurturing great work. Great work then supports regional community development and creative industry growth.
The National Young Writers Festival, as part of Newcastle’s This Is Not Art festival, brings together artists from around the country.NYWF
This decision also calls into question the NSW delivery of the Regional Arts Fund.
This fund is administered by Regional Arts Australia on behalf of the Australian government, and delivered by state-based regional arts peak bodies.
Without Regional Arts NSW to deliver the fund, there is no dedicated regional organisation with a statewide focus to carry out this important work.
Where to from here?
Devaluing regional industry service and sector development is a backwards step for NSW at a time of instability and uncertainty.
A great many questions will be asked this week and beyond, aiming to restore confidence in the NSW government’s understanding of regional culture and commitment to public integrity.
With the state’s regional arts community gathering in Wagga Wagga for Artstate, the minister will have the opportunity to respond to these questions in person.
A call to abolish New Zealand’s Human Rights Commission and dismiss it as a “hard left” body forgets the role both sides of politics played in establishing the organisation. And the call comes at a time when, overseas, democracy and the right to speak out on issues are under threat.
ACT leader David Seymour also accused the commission of being “irrelevant” and “dangerous” in his call for the government organisation to be scrapped.
These include a right to a decent and affordable home, a living wage and an end to pay discrimination, more employment opportunities for disabled people and a national action plan against racism.
Politicians are asked to take account of the human rights promises made by successive governments. The commission also wants the growing partnership between the Crown and hapū and iwi to be advanced.
Democracy under threat
Overseas, during the COVID-19 pandemic, there has been a worsening of democracy and human rights in 80 countries, according to research from the US-based Freedom House, an organisation devoted to the support and defence of democracy around the world.
The researchers say:
Governments have responded by engaging in abuses of power, silencing their critics, and weakening or shuttering important institutions, often undermining the very systems of accountability needed to protect public health.
The recent rapid decline is an acceleration of a longer trend of declining democracy and the freedoms that it protects. Sri Lanka and Cambodia have been identified as states where democracy was already struggling and where there were weak safeguards against abuses of power.
The governments of Egypt, Guatemala and Zimbabwe, among others, were reported as using the pandemic to engage in further abuses of power, to silence critics and to weaken or shut down institutions.
On a positive note, Aotearoa New Zealand featured favourably in the Freedom House report, saying the government had announced a range of measures to make sure the election could go ahead during the pandemic.
But Aotearoa New Zealand is not immune from efforts to undermine human rights and democracy. David Seymour has made calls before to abolish the Human Rights Commission.
Following Seymour’s latest call, National’s Simon Bridges said the commission needed reform. He described some of the issues it raised, such as “fair pay and raising benefits and all of these other things”, as legitimate — but they “ain’t human rights”.
This type of thinking is reflected in the fact such rights are not protected by the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990. The failure to include these rights makes it more difficult, but not impossible, for the commission (and the courts) to defend such rights.
But the right to adequate housing was enshrined in the United Nations’ Universal Declaration of Human Rights 1948. So too has the right to remuneration that ensures an existence worthy of human dignity, as has the right to social security.
The inclusion of such rights is largely due to the work of the first Labour government (1935–49), particularly then Prime Minister Peter Fraser. Aotearoa New Zealand accepted the UN declaration in December 1948.
A human rights framework
The origins of Aotearoa New Zealand’s own human rights framework begins in 1963 when the second National government (1960–72) tried, unsuccessfully, to pass a Bill of Rights Act. But it did pass the Race Relations Act in 1971.
This act prohibited racial discrimination and established the office of Race Relations Conciliator. It was the first time New Zealand legislation made reference to the specific mandate of human rights protection.
The third National government (1975–84) established the Human Rights Commission. The Human Rights Commission Act 1977 prohibited a wide range of discrimination and the Human Rights Commission was tasked with investigating breaches of the Act.
The same government also accepted the rights to adequate housing, work that ensured a decent living and social security as legally binding obligations in 1978.
The prohibition on discrimination was widened in 1993 under the fourth National government (1990–99).
In 2001, the fifth Labour government (1999–2008) extended the powers of the Human Rights Commission. The commission’s focus changed from anti-discrimination to broader human rights issues.
Employment rights for people with disabilities were also part of a suite of disability rights accepted by that government in 2008.
As for the call to advance the growing partnership between the Crown and hapū and iwi, the third Labour government (1972–75) oversaw the establishment of the Waitangi Tribunal in 1975, and the National Party did not object.
The fifth National government (2008–2017) achieved the highest number of Treaty of Waitangi settlements of any administration to date.
Cross party support
Clearly then, New Zealand’s commitment to human rights, and providing redress for breaches of Te Tiriti for that matter, is not – and has never been – grounded in a “left wing manifesto”, as David Seymour claims.
The strength of our democracy and commitment to human rights, including the right to free speech, means New Zealanders are free to agree or disagree with the Human Rights Commission’s call to action. We may also differ on what we understand actual human rights to be.
It’s one thing to engage in the merits of the debate about whether decent and affordable housing, a living wage, fair pay and adequate benefits should be regarded as human rights.
But it’s another thing to call for the abolition of an institution set up to promote respect for human rights and to ensure those rights are observed, as well as to make public statements on any human rights matter.
New Zealanders should be wary of any calls to abolish the Human Rights Commission. To do so, would be one step to towards diminished accountability on the part of our leaders and the silencing of government critics. As Freedom House reports, these are some of the tactics favoured by repressive regimes seeking to undermine democracy and human rights.
Twitter over the weekend “tagged” as manipulated a video showing US Democratic presidential candidate Joe Biden supposedly forgetting which state he’s in, while addressing a crowd. Biden’s “hello Minnesota” greeting contrasts with prominent signage reading “Tampa, Florida” and “Text FL to 30330”.
The Associated Press’s fact check confirmed the signs were added digitally and the original footage was indeed from a Minnesota rally. But by the time the misleading video was removed it had more than one million views, The Guardian reports.
If you use social media, the chances are you see (and forward) some of the more than 3.2 billion images and 720,000 hours of video shared daily. When faced with such a glut of content, how can we know what’s real and what’s not?
While one part of the solution is an increased use of content verification tools, it’s equally important we all boost our digital media literacy. Ultimately, one of the best lines of defence — and the only one you can control — is you.
Seeing shouldn’t always be believing
Misinformation (when you accidentally share false content) and disinformation (when you intentionally share it) in any medium can erode trust in civil institutions such as news organisations, coalitions and social movements. However, fake photos and videos are often the most potent.
For those with a vested political interest, creating, sharing and/or editing false images can distract, confuse and manipulate viewers to sow discord and uncertainty (especially in already polarised environments). Posters and platforms can also make money from the sharing of fake, sensationalist content.
Only 11-25% of journalists globally use social media content verification tools, according to the International Centre for Journalists.
In the original 1964 photo, King flashed the “V for victory” sign after learning the US Senate had passed the civil rights bill.
Beyond adding or removing elements, there’s a category of photo manipulation in which images are fused together.
Earlier this year, a photo of an armed man was photoshopped by Fox News, which overlaid the man onto other scenes without disclosing the edits, the Seattle Times reported.
Similarly, the image below was shared thousands of times on social media in January, during Australia’s Black Summer bushfires. The AFP’s fact check confirmed it’s not authentic and is actually a combination of severalseparatephotos.
Fully and partially synthetic content
Online you’ll also find sophisticated “deepfake” videos showing (usually famous) people saying or doing things they never did. Less advanced versions can be created using apps such as Zao and Reface.
A team from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology created this fake video showing US President Richard Nixon reading lines from a speech crafted in case the 1969 moon landing failed. (Youtube)
Or, if you don’t want to use your photo for a profile picture, you can default to one of several websites offering hundreds of thousands of AI-generated, photorealistic images of people.
These people don’t exist, they’re just images generated by artificial intelligence.Generated Photos, CC BY
Editing pixel values and the (not so) simple crop
Cropping can greatly alter the context of a photo, too.
We saw this in 2017, when a US government employee edited official pictures of Donald Trump’s inauguration to make the crowd appear bigger, according to The Guardian. The staffer cropped out the empty space “where the crowd ended” for a set of pictures for Trump.
Views of the crowds at the inaugurations of former US President Barack Obama in 2009 (left) and President Donald Trump in 2017 (right).AP
What about edits that only alter pixel values such as colour, saturation or contrast?
One historical example illustrates the consequences of this. Time magazine’s 1994 cover of OJ Simpson considerably “darkened” Simpson in his police mugshot. This added fuel to a case already plagued by racial tension, to which the magazine responded:
No racial implication was intended, by Time or by the artist.
Tools for debunking digital fakery
For those of us who don’t want to be duped by visual mis/disinformation, there are tools available — although each comes with its own limitations (something we discussed in our recent paper).
Invisible digital watermarking has been proposed as a solution. However, it isn’t widespread and requires buy-in from both content publishers and distributors.
Reverse image search (such as Google’s) is often free and can be helpful for identifying earlier, potentially more authentic copies of images online. That said, it’s not foolproof because it:
relies on unedited copies of the media already being online
doesn’t search the entire web
doesn’t always allow filtering by publication time. Some reverse image search services such as TinEye support this function, but Google’s doesn’t.
returns only exact matches or near-matches, so it’s not thorough. For instance, editing an image and then flipping its orientation can fool Google into thinking it’s an entirely different one.
Meanwhile, manual forensic detection methods for visual mis/disinformation focus mostly on edits visible to the naked eye, or rely on examining features that aren’t included in every image (such as shadows). They’re also time-consuming, expensive and need specialised expertise.
Still, you can access work in this field by visiting sites such as Snopes.com, which has a growing repository of “fauxtography”.
Computer vision and machine learning also offer relatively advanced detection capabilities for images and videos. But they too require technical expertise to operate and understand.
Moreover, improving them involves using large volumes of “training data”, but the image repositories used for this usually don’t contain the real-world images seen in the news.
If you use an image verification tool such as the REVEAL project’s image verification assistant, you might need an expert to help interpret the results.
The good news, however, is that before turning to any of the above tools, there are some simple questions you can ask yourself to potentially figure out whether a photo or video on social media is fake. Think:
was it originally made for social media?
how widely and for how long was it circulated?
what responses did it receive?
who were the intended audiences?
Quite often, the logical conclusions drawn from the answers will be enough to weed out inauthentic visuals. Access the full list of questions, put together by Manchester Metropolitan University experts, here.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Amie Hayley, NHMRC Peter Doherty Biomedical Early Career Research Fellow and Senior Research Fellow, Swinburne University of Technology
Around 25,000 Australians currently use medicinal cannabis products. They may be prescribed to relieve symptoms and pain associated with certain chronic medical conditions, for chemotherapy-induced nausea, or during palliative care.
In Australia, it’s an offence for someone to drive if they’re using medicinal cannabis products containing tetrahydrocannabinol (THC, the main psychoactive component of cannabis). If they injure another person in a traffic accident, they may face criminal charges of driving while impaired.
If they’re picked up at a roadside test, they’ll be penalised in the same way as someone who tests positive to illegal drugs.
But in Victoria, this could soon change. A parliamentary bill proposing to treat medicinal cannabis users like people who use other prescription drugs, rather than illegal drug users, is gaining support.
Generally, being on medication doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to drive. It seems fair that medicinal cannabis users should be treated in the same way as people who use legal drugs.
But we also need to weigh up any potential risks. Driving a car is a complex task that requires a driver to be attentive, competent and capable.
The relationship between cannabis and driving impairment is complex
Compared with drug-free drivers, drivers with high levels of THC have modestly increased odds of being responsible for a traffic accident resulting in injury or death.
Medicinal cannabis is different to the illegal stuff
Medicinal cannabis typically contains much less of the intoxicating component (THC), and more of the components that don’t produce a “high” (cannabidiol, or CBD). Compared with THC, CBD has much less effect on mood, awareness, thoughts, feelings and behaviour.
It’s not clear how CBD-only treatments might affect driving, although many studiesare ongoing. As it stands, patients taking CBD-only medicines can lawfully drive, as long as they are not impaired.
Australian medicinal cannabis products are generally CBD-only.Shutterstock
Sometimes, medicinal cannabis products are CBD/THC-balanced or THC-dominant. How medicinal cannabis might impair a person’s ability to drive safely seems to depend how much THC is in it. CBD does not offset this intoxicating effect.
Roadside testing
In Australia, THC is a controlled Schedule 8 drug under the Poisons Standard. Victoria has a zero-tolerance drug-driving policy for controlled drugs. This currently includes medicinal cannabis products that contain THC.
Under this system, drivers are screened at the roadside for cannabis (THC), (meth)amphetamine or 3,4-Methylenedioxymethamphetamine (MDMA) using a saliva test. Drivers who return a positive result will undergo verification (additional testing of a sample sent to a laboratory) to confirm how much of a drug is present.
The minimum penalty for testing positive to THC is a six-month loss of licence and a fine. Drivers must also complete an education program.
Roadside tests can’t differentiate between illegal recreational and medicinal cannabis products, or determine the THC concentration.
So patients legally prescribed medications that contain THC can be prosecuted in the same way as a driver who has consumed a higher level of THC for a non-medical reason.
High-THC cannabis reduces a driver’s ability to control the car or respond to unexpected situations.Shutterstock
Internationally, there’s been a move away from zero-tolerance approaches to systems that use thresholds to determine whether a person driving under the influence of THC is likely to be impaired.
Canada, and now many US states, have introduced limits of between 1, but no more than 5 nanograms of THC per millilitre of blood. This roughly equates to a blood alcohol content of 0.05%.
Penalties for having higher levels of THC are based on a graded system that factors in the level of drugs in the driver’s system, and whether the incident is a first or repeated offence. These laws apply to all drivers, including those with a medical authorisation to use cannabis.
The road ahead
As many as one in three Australian patients who use medicinal cannabis drive within three hours of taking their treatment. Some medications containing THC can be detected by roadside drug tests more than four hours after use, so patients who drive within this window may well be charged.
Determining whether patients who use medicinal cannabis products pose a risk to themselves or other road users is important for deciding what (if any) legislative changes would be appropriate. We need more research before we can move to a system like Canada or the US.
Introducing a conditional licence, subject to periodic review, may be one way of supporting people who use medicinal cannabis to drive lawfully and safely. A central registry could help law enforcement and health-care providers quickly reference what medication a driver is taking, at what dose, and for how long they’ve been using it.
As with other potentially impairing (but legal) medications, using mandatory driving hazard warning labels might be an easy way to help patients make better decisions about whether they are feeling well enough to drive when using these medications.
With greater access to a wider range of medicinal cannabis products, it’s important we support the rights of patients who use these medications and continue to drive, as well as ensuring the safety of all road users.
Future decisions must include equal input from patient advocates, research groups, road safety groups and law enforcement.
Hashtags are a pervasive feature of social media posts and used widely in search engines.
Anything with the intent of attracting a wide audience usually comes with a memorable hashtag — #MeToo, #FreeHongKong, #LoveWins, #BlackLivesMatter, #COVID19 and #SupremeCourt are just some examples.
First conceived in 2007 by blogger and open source advocate Chris Messina on Twitter, hashtags are now also escaping from social media contexts and appearing regularly in advertising and protest signs, and even in spoken language.
But are hashtags words?
If there is one thing linguists ought to know, it’s words. But when it comes to hashtags, the definition is not straightforward.
In our research, based on a collection of millions of New Zealand English tweets, we argue hashtags are, at best, artificial words.
Let’s first look at how we usually recognise words. The simplest way is by following a native speaker’s intuition.
If you had to identify the words in the previous sentence, you might begin by iterating everything separated by spaces: the, simplest, way and so on. But what would you do with “speaker’s”. Is that one word or two?
Laypeople will likely think of it as one word. Grammarians may argue it’s two, or even worse, 1.5 words: you have the speaker part and the possessive case marker (‘s), which is technically not a word, but not a non-word either (it is a clitic).
But using spaces as clues for word boundaries is a luxury available only to written languages. What about languages that only have a spoken form, such as Tinrin of New Caledonia?
Phonological cues — acoustic “spaces” or short pauses between words — are no more reliable. Many grammar words, such as articles (the, a) and prepositions (to, of, at) are used frequently but typically unstressed and uttered quickly, receiving virtually no “airtime” in the rush of content words like nouns, verbs and adjectives that carry the most important part of a message.
Just about every criterion proposed for words has its own problems, as described by linguists Laurie Bauer and Martin Haspelmath. Despite their seemingly straightforward nature, words are tricky for linguists.
A hashtag for Fridays for Future climate marches.Frank Molter/picture alliance via Getty Images
#HashtagsNotWords
There are two main theories regarding the linguistic status of hashtags. The first claims hashtags are like compound words. This is essentially a way of making new words by gluing two (or more) existing words together. In English, compounds can be spelled as one word (blackboard, greenhouse), or two words separated by spaces (bus stop, apple pie) or as hyphenated words (forget-me-not).
The second idea is that hashtags are words that arise from a completely different process, unlike anything we have seen before. This hashtagging is a much looser word-formation process, with fewer restrictions. As long as a hashtag symbol is used and no spaces appear between the parts, anything goes — #lovehashtagging, #lazysundayafternoon, #MāoriLanguageWeek.
Hashtags act like keywords in a library catalogue or search engine.Pierre Crom/Getty Images
Our research argues against both these proposals by rejecting the notion hashtags should be treated as words. We suggest hashtags are written to look orthographically like words, but their function is much broader and similar to keywords in a library catalogue or search engine.
But just because hashtags aren’t words per se, that doesn’t mean they are not linguistically interesting. On the contrary, we found hashtags allow tweeters to express themselves in many creative ways, and they are used for various functions, including humour and language play.
For example, some tweets start with the hashtag #youknowyoure(a)kiwiwhen or contain #growingupkiwi to reference, in a self-deprecating way, stereotypical Kiwi lifestyle qualities or childhood nostalgia.
In a more serious and controversial vein, in a bid to poke fun at the All Blacks’ performance of the haka before rubgy matches, the hashtag #hakarena references the Māori tribal dance haka and links it to the Latin American song macarena in what some consider a derogatory way.
The hashtags we analysed also showed new ways in which tweeters harness lexical resources from different languages. Hybrid hashtags, as we term them, are hashtags comprising one or more words from two distinct languages — in our case, English and Māori, the indigenous language of New Zealand. Examples include #kiaora4that and #letssharegoodtereostories.
Far from being a source of linguistic demise, social media language continues to help us understand a bit more of the puzzle of human communication.
Two weeks after Labour’s landslide election win, Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern announced a ministry that is more diverse than any seen before in New Zealand.
Of those inside cabinet, 40% are women, 25% are Māori (two in five of those are women), 15% are Pasifika (two in three are women), and 15% are LGBTQI — one of whom is Deputy Prime Minister Grant Robertson.
Beyond the 20 cabinet ministers, there are four ministers outside cabinet and two undersecretaries. Of these six, three are women, two are Māori, one is Pasifika and one is Indian. Green Party co-leaders Marama Davidson and James Shaw are also associate ministers outside cabinet. The diversity of Ardern’s new government runs deep.
There remain important voices missing from cabinet, however. As Jonny Wilkinson of disability support network Tiaho Trust noted, disabled people are the largest minority group in New Zealand but they lack representation in parliament and cabinet.
Race and gender diverse: new foreign minister Nanaia Mahuta, flanked by other senior Māori ministers.
Greater diversity over time
In 2017 Ardern set herself a target of a gender balanced cabinet. She missed achieving this in 2020 despite demands for, and achievement of, increased gender parity in government executive branches globally in recent years.
As the proportion of women in parliament increases, it is argued, so too does the pool of eligible candidates from which the prime minister can select women ministers.
Some leaders have ignored this, including former Australian prime minister Tony Abbott, who claimed there were insufficient women parliamentarians with the experience needed for cabinet. That position has become increasingly untenable over time.
While large scale comparative studies suggest women leaders are no more likely than their male counterparts to select women ministers, in New Zealand we know that it was Labour’s Helen Clark who substantially increased the proportion of women promoted to cabinet (from 11% in 1996 to 35% in 1999).
National Party Prime Minister John Key followed her example, ensuring his cabinets comprised at least 30% women. Ardern has moved the bar higher by selecting 40% women.
New to cabinet: Kiri Allan will be minister of conservation, minister of emergency management, associate minister for arts, culture and heritage, and associate minister for the environment.GettyImages
The gender quota debate
That we have yet to reach gender parity may raise questions in New Zealand and elsewhere. However, our major parties have long resisted implementing strict gender quotas, meaning incremental progress is the norm. That said, our global gender ranking has gone from 50th equal to 26th equal.
This contrasts with Canada’s Justin Trudeau, who in 2015 made history when he selected his first gender parity cabinet. There had been criticism of the policy by pundits who argued diversity and merit could not co-exist, but Trudeau’s response was pithy: “Because it’s 2015.”
Five years on, Ardern may have anticipated similar resistance. Asked about the basis of her cabinet selection, she said it was based on “merit, talent and diversity”. Gender balance was the byproduct, in other words.
We also know that not all ministries are created equal. Globally it is finance, foreign affairs, defence and other highly resourced portfolios that are most prized. These usually make up the leader’s inner circle (remember former Labour Prime Minister David Lange’s all male “fish and chip brigade”).
However, the Interparliamentary Union’s annual maps of women in world politics reveal these ministries continue to be allocated more often to men than women.
Women inside the inner circle
This is not the case in Labour’s new cabinet. Ardern’s inner circle (or top five if the photos are anything to go by) includes two women. The top ten positions in cabinet are shared equally between the sexes, with the portfolios alternating between women and men in order of seniority.
New Zealand’s first female foreign affairs minister is Nanaia Mahuta, former associate minister of trade and a senior member of Labour’s Māori caucus. Fourth ranked Megan Woods, who holds a number of big-budget portfolios, has been made associate minister of finance.
There are four new women ministers (one of whom has come straight into cabinet from outside parliament), who have portfolios of their own but who are also associate ministers working with other senior ministers. This is an important strategy — if those senior ministers take their roles seriously, it will ensure these more junior women are likelier to succeed.
The new Labour health team: from left, Andrew Little, Aupito William Sio, Chris Hipkins, Ayesha Verrall and Peeni Henare.GettyImages
The challenge of wider diversity
One question that remains for women’s organisations, however, is whether this new-look ministry will enhance the substantive representation of women and other minorities.
Women workers (as well as the young, Māori and Pasifika) have borne the brunt of job losses during the COVID-19 pandemic, meaning we need gender and diversity analyses applied to all future economic recovery commitments.
Similarly, our family and sexual violence rates remain high, although the cross-portfolio policy responses continue to be led by talented ministers from both Labour and the Greens.
Whether this will be a feminist-focused cabinet remains to be seen. But the diversity of expertise, perspectives and lived experiences among the women around the cabinet table offers an opportunity to bring more diversity into policy deliberations and decisions. As it should — after all, it’s 2020.
The controversial and banned practice of giving horses baking soda “milkshakes” before a race doesn’t work, according to our analysis of the available research.
Racing folklore says sodium bicarbonate milkshakes can boost racehorses’ endurance because the alkalinity of the baking soda helps counter the buildup of lactic acid in the blood when running.
This means any trainer still tempted to flout the ban on this tactic would be endangering their horses’ welfare and risking heavy sanctions over a practice that is basically snake oil.
Despite the fun-sounding name, milkshakes are anything but. The process involves inserting a tube up the horse’s nose, down its throat and into the stomach, and then pumping in a concentrated solution of sodium bicarbonate dissolved in water.
This can be stressful to the horse, and potential side-effects include lacerations to the nasal cavity, throat and oesophagus, gastrointestinal upset, and diarrhoea. It can even be fatal if the tube is mistakenly inserted into the trachea and the solution is pumped into the lungs.
It’s little wonder Racing Australia has banned the use of “alkalising agents” such as milkshakes on race day, with potentially career-ending ramifications for trainers caught doing it.
No boost after all
The effect of baking soda on athletic performance has been studied in human athletes for decades with inconclusive results, but has only been analysed in horses since the late 1980s.
Our analysis included data from eight experimental trials featuring 74 horses. Overall, sodium bicarbonate administration in the hours before treadmill tests or simulated race trials did not improve horses’ running performance in either type of test.
In fact, in treadmill exercise tests in which horses were not ridden by jockeys, sodium bicarbonate actually had a very small negative effect on running performance, albeit not a statistically significant one.
Whereas human athletes might gain a placebo effect from sodium bicarbonate, this is unlikely to apply to horses who don’t understand the intended point of the milkshake. And while some racehorse trainers may be educated in exercise physiology and the importance of blood pH, others may believe they work simply because received wisdom and racing folklore say so.
Racing aficionados steeped in tradition might respond with scepticism, or argue that research can’t replicate the unique conditions of race day. But given that our comprehensive analysis of a range of research trials shows no evidence that milkshakes work, we argue any recalcitrant trainers have a moral responsibility to listen to the science.
Milkshakes are already banned. But our research shows they deliver no benefit anyway. Trainers who are happy to continue this illicit practice and run the gauntlet of potential sanctions should consider whether it is worth it at all, and whether instead they should reconsider on moral, medical and scientific grounds.
It has been billed as the most significant US election in generations, and with nearly 100 million votes already cast, it is well underway. An estimated 50 million more votes are expected on the last day of in-person voting on Tuesday (Wednesday Australian time), with mail-in ballots still making their way through the postal service, including from overseas and military voters.
It is not only the White House up for grabs, but all 435 seats in the House of Representatives and 35 of the 100-seat Senate. In addition, 11 gubernatorial (state governor) races, various state legislatures, and a plethora of local judges, sheriffs, school boards and supervisory roles are also on the ballot. A quick glance at a US ballot illustrates how America has more democratically elected positions per capita than any other country in the world.
In the year following more than 1,000 former federal prosecutors confirming President Donald Trump would be indicted if not for the current immunity the Oval Office provides him, Trump has stepped up rhetoric that any election that he does not win is “rigged”.
Then came the “October surprise” from the New York Times that the president has at least US$400 million in personally guaranteed loans due over the next possible term and previously undisclosed Chinese bank accounts. This has brought the president’s priorities under intense scrutiny alongside a flailing economy and federal mismanagement of the COVID pandemic response.
Citing these concerns, formal endorsements of Trump’s political opponent, former Vice President Joe Biden, have come from unlikely places. Republican national security veterans, GOP governors and nonpartisan communities of scientists and physicians have endorsed Biden, some for the first time in the history of their organisations.
A group of 73 high-level former GOP US National security officials from administrations spanning Reagan to Bush Jr wrote in an open letter that Trump is “dangerously unfit to serve another term”, citing his undermining of the rule of law, failure to lead Americans through the pandemic, and damage to the US’s global reputation.
More than 780 prominent Republicans and Democrats, including former defence secretaries, ambassadors, and retired military brass, also decried Trump, writing that:
[…] thanks to his disdainful attitude and his failures, our allies no longer trust or respect us and our enemies no longer fear us.
A chorus of Trump’s own former administration officials have joined The Lincoln Project, Republican Voters against Trump, 43 for Biden (featuring members of the George W. Bush administration) and former staffers of late senator John McCain, to mount powerful testimonials targeting Trump’s base, independents and new voters.
The Biden camp has stressed a return to decency and cooperation, a United States of America. A popular ad encapsulates the message,
There is only one America. No Democratic rivers, no Republican mountains. Just this great land and all that’s possible on it with a fresh start. There is so much we can do if we choose to take on problems and not each other and choose a president who brings out our best.
Other “anyone but Trump” ads target voters who may have supported him in 2016 as a fiesty outsider, but have tired of the noise.
Ads, endorsements and of course polls are potentially useful indicators during the final week of voting. But what are some other trends that will likely impact electoral turnout and the results? Here are a few to look out for.
Against the tight margins of the 2016 election in a handful of decisive states, a new generation of voters has emerged who may tip the balance of power. They drove higher turnout in the 2018 midterm election and are not only voting but running and winning office. Enter the millennials.
The US is on the cusp of a generational shift. This is the first US presidential election in which the millennial generation is now the largest voting-age cohort, displacing the baby boomers who have held the title since the 1970s.
Younger millennials, who may have spent the previous presidential election in a high school walk out, or participated in the March for Our Lives for gun safety, are now eligible to vote. Older millennials, who are approaching 40, grew up with high school shootings and are now watching their own young children do lockdown drills, rewarded with a candy if they remain quietly hidden in the toilet with their feet up to avoid detection.
Amid concern about growing economic inequality, the millennials will likely be the first generation to be less financially secure than their parents, and the most likely to compare themselves with international OECD peers who enjoy universal healthcare, gun control and better financial support during the pandemic.
None of these issues is well represented by the current administration, and so Trump’s approval rating hovers around 28% among that age group.
On these crucial issues, different informational diets between generations, political parties, and even families could drive very different voting patterns.
But the millennial vote could be decisive.
Young people will have a big say in the outcome of the 2020 election.AAP/EPA/Josh Edelson
Disinformation
If “post-truth” was the Oxford Dictionary’s Word of the Year in 2016, “disinformation” is in the running for 2020.
Disinformation – the deliberate spreading of false or misleading information in order to deceive – is a growing problem in democratic elections. It was a key theme in the Republican-chaired Senate Intelligence Committee report into Russian interference in the 2016 election.
These reports documented key disinformation techniques, narratives and purpose. Akin to Russian “active measures”, disinformation is used to undermine authoritative sources of information by blurring the line between fact and faction.
The most popular narrative, according to this report, was the myth of “voter fraud”.
While the 2016 disinformation campaign centred on voter fraud, the 2020 version targets mail-in voting. These ballots, cast in the middle of COVID-19, are at the heart of competing narratives about the pandemic itself.
In this election, we’ve seen a catalogue of disinformation about COVID-19. While scientists, physicians and public health authorities have repeatedly warned the public and officials to take action to protect public health, the Trump administration has generally downplayed its severity.
Calling it “just the flu”, Trump said the problem impacts “virtually nobody”, even after nearly a quarter of a million Americans died. Recent research has shown Trump himself is one of the largest superspreaders of disinformation about COVID-19.
Some of that disinformation will affect how people cast their ballot. While 19 states have expanded mail-in ballot options as a result of the pandemic, others have made voting harder by closing voting places while not expanding alternate options. Texas, for instance, refused to recognise COVID-19 concerns as a valid reason for those under 65 to request a mail-in ballot, with South Carolina only recently reversing a similar restriction.
Disinformation about mail-in ballots is likely to feature in court challenges. Trump has insisted the results be known on election day, which would necessarily exclude mail-in ballots postmarked in time but not yet received through the mail, including those cast by overseas military voters. He has repeatedly signalled that his appointees in the judicial system (which number in the hundreds) will help secure his win.
While it is unprecedented for a president to attack electoral integrity, state level actions are also important to consider.
Disenfranchisement
Voting in the US is not easy to summarise. Devoid of democracy sausages and a non-partisan federal elections commission, elections are run at the state and county level, from voter rolls to polling locations and everything in between.
Each state is in charge of its own election, and there are nearly as many systems as there are states. Five states, including Oregon, vote entirely by mail. Five other states vote entirely on machine, including Georgia, with no traditional paper audit trail. Other state variations include the option of early in-person voting, whether voting places are open on a Sunday, how far in advance you must register to vote, and requirements for voter ID.
Each US state has its own voting requirements, arrangements and ballots.AAP/EPA/Justin Lane
Each state’s ballots look different, with users selecting their choices via handmarked bubble sheets, hole punches or hanging chads, the latter made famous in the 2000 recount in Florida that delivered George W. Bush his first term.
One of the quirks of the US voting system is the electoral college. The college is essentially a distribution of electoral votes among the states according to population size, updated after every 10-year census.
In 2020, several large states are in the spotlight as toss-ups, including Texas, which carries a prize of 38 electoral votes in the race to 270. It will be one to watch on election day, with early voter turnout already surpassing its 2016 total. It is also the site of one of the most blatant attempts at disenfranchisement, with the GOP failing in its attempt to stop more than 120,000 ballots already cast in one of its largest counties.
Until recently, states were not allowed to make changes to voting procedures without judicial oversight. Plans to close significant numbers of polling places in certain districts, for instance, had to go through pre-clearance processes. However, these protections were dismantled by a US Supreme Court ruling in 2013. This year’s presidential election will be only the second without those protections, and voter disenfranchisement could result.
One key method of disenfranchisement could be mail-in ballots. In an interview in August, Trump said he planned to block funding for the US postal service to prevent increased voting by mail. A Trump appointee to the head of the postal service in July recently oversaw the destruction and dismantling of 700 mail processing machines, leading to more delays.
Simple polls of voting intention do not capture voter disenfranchisement and intimidation.
Intimidation tactics have been increasing across several key states. In Pennsylvania, New Jersey and North Carolina, official Republican party mailers warned voters their voting history is a matter of public record.
When the Democrats win the White House and you didn’t do your part to stop it, your neighbors will know. Voting is a matter of public record.
Experts warn of potential violence and rioting after the result. Growing polarisation, extremist groups such as QAnon threatening the use of force, and the availability of tactical weapons are all warning signs.
This year has seen more than 8 million more gun purchases than 2019, and scholars warn of increasing militia activity. Trump has publicly praised supporters who commit violence, including the Kenosha shooter.
International allies are also concerned. After Trump used armed guards to teargas peaceful protestors in Washington DC (which Australia watched live as its reporters were bashed on air), the Scottish Parliament voted to suspend exports of riot shields, tear gas and rubber bullets to the United States.
Australia recently updated its “do not travel” advisory to the US, citing civil unrest around the election.
Regardless of the outcome of the election, some of the trends may continue beyond Inauguration Day on January 21, 2021, affecting not just the US but its relationships with allies and adversaries alike.
Australia would do well to watch carefully and wait for the final results.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Tilman Ruff, Associate Professor, Education and Learning Unit, Nossal Institute for Global Health, School of Population and Global Health, University of Melbourne
Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people should be aware this article contains the name of a deceased person.
The Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons received its 50th ratification on October 24, and will therefore come into force in January 2021. A historic development, this new international law will ban the possession, development, testing, use and threat of use of nuclear weapons.
Unfortunately the nuclear powers — the United Kingdom, France, the United States, Russia, China, Israel, India, Pakistan and North Korea — haven’t signed on to the treaty. As such, they are not immediately obliged to help victims and remediate contaminated environments, but others party to the treaty do have these obligations. The shifting norms around this will hopefully put ongoing pressure on nuclear testing countries to open records and to cooperate with accountability measures.
For the people of the Pacific region, particularly those who bore the brunt of nuclear weapons testing during the 20th century, it will bring a new opportunity for their voices to be heard on the long-term costs of nuclear violence. The treaty is the first to enshrine enduring commitments to addressing their needs.
From 1946, around 315 nuclear tests were carried out in the Pacific by the US, Britain and France. These nations’ largest ever nuclear tests took place on colonised lands and oceans, from Australia to the Marshall Islands, Kiribati to French Polynesia.
The impacts of these tests are still being felt today.
All nuclear tests cause harm
Studies of nuclear test workers and exposed nearby communities around the worldconsistently show adverse health effects, especially increased risks of cancer.
The total number of global cancer deaths as a result of atmospheric nuclear test explosions has been estimated at between 2 million and 2.4 million, even though these studies used radiation risk estimates that are now dated and likely underestimated the risk.
The number of additional non-fatal cancer cases caused by test explosions is similar. As confirmed in a large recent study of nuclear industry workers in France, the UK and US, the numbers of radiation-related deaths due to other diseases, such as heart attacks and strokes, is also likely to be similar.
The British conducted seven nuclear test explosions in Maralinga, South Australia. But there they also did over 600 ‘minor’ trials for bomb development, responsible for most of the ongoing contamination.NATIONAL ARCHIVES OF AUSTRALIA/AAP
‘We all got crook’
Britain conducted 12 nuclear test explosions in Australia between 1952 and 1957, and hundreds of minor trials of radioactive and toxic materials for bomb development up to 1963. These caused untold health problems for local Aboriginal people who were at the highest risk of radiation. Many of them were not properly evacuated, and some were not informed at all.
We may never know the full impact of these explosions because in many cases, as the Royal Commission report on British Nuclear Tests in Australia found in 1985: “the resources allocated for Aboriginal welfare and safety were ludicrous, amounting to nothing more than a token gesture”. But we can listen to the survivors.
The late Yami Lester directly experienced the impacts of nuclear weapons. A Yankunytjatjara elder from South Australia, Yami was a child when the British tested at Emu Field in October 1953. He recalled the “Black Mist” after the bomb blast:
It wasn’t long after that a black smoke came through. A strange black smoke, it was shiny and oily. A few hours later we all got crook, every one of us. We were all vomiting; we had diarrhoea, skin rashes and sore eyes. I had really sore eyes. They were so sore I couldn’t open them for two or three weeks. Some of the older people, they died. They were too weak to survive all the sickness. The closest clinic was 400 miles away.
His daughter, Karina Lester, is an ambassador for the International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons in Australia, and continues to be driven by her family’s experience. She writes:
For decades now my family have campaigned and spoken up against the harms of nuclear weapons because of their firsthand experience of the British nuclear tests […] Many Aboriginal people suffered from the British nuclear tests that took place in the 1950s and 1960s and many are still suffering from the impacts today.
More than 16,000 Australian workers were also exposed. A key government-funded study belatedly followed these veterans over an 18-year period from 1982. Despite the difficulties of conducting a study decades later with incomplete data, it found they had 23% higher rates of cancer and 18% more deaths from cancers than the general population.
An additional health impact in Pacific island countries is the toxic disease “ciguatera”, caused by certain microscopic plankton at the base of the marine food chain, which thrive on damaged coral. Their toxins concentrate up the food chain, especially in fish, and cause illness and occasional deaths in people who eat them. In the Marshall Islands, Kiritimati and French Polynesia, outbreaks of the disease among locals have been associated with coral damage caused by nuclear test explosions and the extensive military and shipping infrastructure supporting them.
Pacific survivors of nuclear testing haven’t been focused solely on addressing their own considerable needs for justice and care; they’ve been powerful advocates that no one should suffer as they have ever again, and have worked tirelessly for the eradication of nuclear weapons. It’s no surprise independent Pacific island nations are strong supporters of the new treaty, accounting for ten of the first 50 ratifications.
Pacific island nations make up 10 of the first 50 countries to ratify the treaty.Laisa Nainoka/Youngsolwara, Author provided (No reuse)
Negligence and little accountability
Some nations that have undertaken nuclear tests have provided some care and compensation for their nuclear test workers; only the US has made some provisions for people exposed, though only for mainland US residents downwind of the Nevada Test Site. No testing nation has extended any such arrangement beyond its own shores to the colonised and minority peoples it put in harm’s way. Nor has any testing nation made fully publicly available its records of the history, conduct and effects of its nuclear tests on exposed populations and the environment.
These nations have also been negligent by quickly abandoning former test sites. There has been inadequate clean-up and little or none of the long-term environmental monitoring needed to detect radioactive leakage from underground test sites into groundwater, soil and air. One example among many is the Runit concrete dome in the Marshall Islands, which holds nuclear waste from US testing in the 1940s and 50s. It’s increasingly inundated by rising sea levels, and is leaking radioactive material.
Runit Dome in the Marshall Islands is leaking nuclear waste from US testing in the 1940s and 50s.US Defense Special Weapons Agency/Wikimedia Commons
The treaty provides a light in a dark time. It contains the only internationally agreed framework for all nations to verifiably eliminate nuclear weapons.
It’s our fervent hope the treaty will mark the increasingly urgent beginning of the end of nuclear weapons. It is our determined expectation that our country will step up. Australia has not yet ratified the treaty, but the bitter legacy of nuclear testing across our country and region should spur us to join this new global effort.
It is difficult to know what to do when governments fail us. But there’s no need to wait until the next election to deal with the climate crisis, we can act now.
An overwhelming majority of Australians want action on climate change. And the federal government’s response to the COVID-19 pandemic shows governments can act decisively and effectively on imminent threats. But on climate action, there is a lack of political will.
So in the absence of federal leadership, what should be done? And who must do what?
Those questions are already being answered by state governments, councils, researchers, entrepreneurs and financiers who understand the climate problem. Their actions are slowing our slide to disaster – but they need others to step up.
There is an absence of will in federal parliament to deal with climate change.Mick Tsikas/AAP
States are filling the gap
Among the most important entities in climate action in Australia are the state and territory governments. The ACT was the first to eliminate fossil fuels for electricity generation. Tasmania is on track to be there by 2022, and has now set a 200% renewable energy target by 2040, with the additional clean energy to be used to produce hydrogen.
South Australia is also set to be powered solely by renewables by the 2030s. These jurisdictions show what can be done in Australia if there’s a political will, and successive governments stick with a plan.
Some larger states are catching up fast. New South Wales has recently gone from being one of the worst performers to among the best. The Berejiklian government has a ten-year plan to reach net-zero emissions by 2050, and the first stage prioritises the uptake of electric vehicles. It will change building codes to make it cheaper and easier to install electric charging points, encourage the uptake of electric vehicles by fleets, and change licensing and parking regulations to encourage their uptake.
If the states worked together to pursue the most ambitious targets and programs, Australia could do its bit to solve the climate problem.
The ACT now runs on 100% renewable energy.Mick Tsikas/AAP
Going local
Australia’s local councils have become powerhouses of innovative climate solutions. In June 2017 I attended the Climate Council’s Cities Power Partnership at Parliament House in Canberra. Some 34 mayors and councillors attended, and I listened with interest as one after another described the projects they were working on.
The breadth was astonishing, from promoting bulk buys of solar panels for disadvantaged residents to making low-carbon road surfaces at local plants. Many councils were planting trees, assisting with energy efficiency measures or converting waste to energy. Since that first meeting the Cities Power Partnership has grown hugely. It now includes more than 120 local governments, representing half of all Australians.
It is not just Australia’s local councils forging ahead with climate action. Individual households lead the world in producing clean energy. More than two million households — 21% of the nation’s total — have now installed solar panels. This, of course, was supported by the federal government’s renewable energy target. But it wouldn’t have happened without Australians paying good money for their rooftop solar panels.
Movements aimed at building momentum will doubtless continue. In September 2019, hundreds of thousands marched during the school climate strikes. The movement grew from a one-person protest by Swedish activist Greta Thunberg, which took place just a year earlier. In Australia the crowds were unprecedented, as was their passion.
The demonstrations have had limited impact on the federal government, but people are also organising in different ways. Extinction Rebellion, an group just two years old, is one of the potentially more potent. Its members are committed to breaking the law peacefully. Part of their power lies in the fact that they keep reminding the police, courts and politicians that their actions aim to save everybody’s children, not just their own.
An Extinction Rebellion video calling on leaders to save the future of today’s children.
But what of national politics?
Action by state governments, councils, individuals and groups will be critical to tackling climate change. But that still leaves the problem of federal parliament.
More pro-climate independents in federal parliament would shift our politics in the right direction. At the last election, voters in the northern Sydney seat of Warringah dispensed with incumbent Tony Abbott, in favour of independent candidate Zali Steggall (who won an astonishing 58% of the two-party preferred vote). It shows what’s possible when traditionally conservative voters get sick of being held to ransom by climate deniers in parliament.
But other deniers in the parliamentary party remain influential. Their modus operandi, as former prime minister Malcolm Turnbull has said, is that of terrorists threatening to blow the place up if they don’t get their way.
Getting more independents into parliament will not be easy. The major political parties, which have many millions of dollars to spend at elections, will fiercely oppose any challengers.
But imagine if the Liberal-Nationals were forced to rid themselves of denialists to head off challenges by independents. What if they could once more implement rational, enduring energy and climate policies? Well, we are at a moment in time where this might be possible.
Membership of both the Labor and Liberal parties has dwindled in recent decades. That means a tiny, self-selected portion of Australia’s population chooses the candidates we vote for.
This has exposed the Liberals, in particular, to hijack by climate deniers – given the small membership numbers, it’s not hard for denialist candidates to win preselection. But if party members let these wreckers run the show, Australia will continue on the path to catastrophe.
More pro-climate independents are needed to help shape national policy.Lukas Coch/AAP
Time to step up
Australians have become used to living with governments that don’t serve our interests. Many people are rightly cynical and disengaged from politics. And that’s exactly where the climate deniers would like us to be.
But to effect real change, we must shake free of apathy. New people will have to step up and join those who have been persevering in pushing for climate action for years.
With enough momentum, we can embark on the cure for this most wicked of problems.
This is an edited extract from The Climate Cure: Solving the Climate Emergency in the Era of COVID-19 by Tim Flannery (Text Publishing).
Treasurer Josh Frydenberg appears to have backed down.
An extraordinarily rushed timetable that would have allowed investors and others just 12 days to comment on draft legislation permitting companies to hold virtual rather than face-to-face annual general meetings has been extended by seven days, to the end of this week.
And Frydenberg has suggested he no longer supports it. He now says “reforms to the regulation of AGMs should enhance the ability of shareholders to interact with the board, not diminish it”.
The idea took hold when it became apparent COVID-19 would stop companies being able to hold physical meetings of shareholders.
In May the federal government announced a six-month temporary relaxation of the Corporations Act rules to allow companies to hold online shareholder meetings.
Then, in a surprising development two weeks ago (on October 19), the federal government published draft legislation to permanently allow companies to hold virtual-only shareholder meetings, including annual general meetings.
The reaction was caustic.
There are two main criticisms. One is focused on the process adopted by the government. The other is focused on the proposal itself.
The process was undoubtedly flawed. Twelve days — in the midst of the AGM season — is an exceptionally short amount of time to consider such important reform.
The more fundamental criticisms relate to what’s proposed.
We believe it will undermine the role of shareholder meetings in making company directors answer to shareholders.
Shorter questions, fewer questions
There is evidence this has already been happening.
At some AGMs, shareholders’ questions have been ignored.
The Australian Shareholders’ Association says a good AGM is an opportunity for healthy discussion and exchange of information and views. In contrast, a virtual meeting “is a sterile format where companies are able to ignore questions, and gloss over details”.
In the US, the Council of Institutional Investors (representing institutional investors with more than US$45 trillion under management) has complained to the US Securities and Exchange Commission about the virtual meetings held because of COVID-19 — calling them a “poor substitute for in-person shareholder meetings” that placed obstacles in the path of shareholders wanting to participate in a meaningful way.
Hard evidence is emerging
A study published in August about virtual shareholder meetings during COVID-19 supports these concerns.
Research by Miriam Schwartz-Ziv examined the transcripts and audio recordings for 94 US corporations that held an in-person or predominately in-person meeting last year and a virtual meeting this year.
The move to virtual meetings shortened the average meeting by 18%, decreased the time dedicated to providing a business update by 40%, and decreased the average time spent on answering questions by 14%.
Schwartz-Ziv says these findings:
may suggest that not having visibly present shareholders, and perhaps not observing shareholders’ responses throughout the meeting, ultimately leads to less information communicated by the company to the shareholders
Among the tactics used were company officials incorrectly stating there were no more questions and limiting questions to resolutions being voted on.
Shareholders are increasingly active
Right now shareholders are more active than ever, using AGMs to put matters such as climate change on the agenda.
This year’s Woodside Petroleum AGM made history when, for the first time in a major Australian listed company, a shareholder resolution requesting the company take action on climate change received more than 50% support from shareholders, even though the resolution was opposed by the company’s directors.
This type of activism, which is occurring in more companies, can indeed present challenges for directors who oppose the wishes of shareholders. Some of them might welcome an opportunity to limit questions.
There’s no rush
But that’s no reason for the government to facilitate it. The government’s proposal was rushed and poorly justified.
It would be better to debate the merits of permanently allowing what are called “hybrid” AGMs. This would involve a physical meeting along with online facilities for those who can’t be physically present.
In a new series, our writers explore their best worst film. They’ll tell you what the critics got wrong – and why it’s time to give these movies another chance.
In 2007, Columbia Pictures released the psychedelic Across the Universe, using 33 songs by The Beatles to form a story of young bohemians living in New York during the Vietnam War era.
Liverpool dockworker Jude (Jim Sturgess) heads to the US in search of his American father, where he becomes friends with Princeton dropout Max (Joe Anderson) and Max’s sister, Lucy (Evan Rachel Wood).
Max and Jude move to New York, sharing a flat with Prudence (T.V. Carpio), a lesbian runaway from Ohio; Sadie (Dana Fuchs), a Janis Joplin-like soul singer; and the Jimi Hendrix-like Jo-Jo (Martin Luther McCoy), who is fleeing the race riots in Detroit. When Lucy’s boyfriend is killed in Vietnam, she also moves to New York, where she and Jude fall in love.
The film is in a near-constant state of song — there are only 30 minutes of spoken dialogue – ending with the cast uniting in a rooftop performance of “All You Need is Love”. This mirrors The Beatles’ own final performance on the rooftop of the Apple Corps building in London in 1969.
The movie was blasted for its saccharine, hippy-dippy, sanitised depictions of the 60s. Critics called it commercialised fodder for bourgeois audiences who lacked any real engagement with the politics of the period – but I think the film actually asks something more complex of its audience.
A star director, a critical flop
Director Julie Taymor is most well known for her stage musical The Lion King (1997), for which she became the first woman to win the Tony Award for best direction of a musical. While she has mostly worked in theatre and opera, her films before Across the Universe included Titus (1999) and Frida (2002).
In the early 2000s, musicals based on popular songbooks experienced renewed popularity on stage and screen, and shows like American Idol (2002–), where contestants regularly sing 60s and 70s songs, became major hits.
The combination of a Beatles soundtrack and a star director should therefore have been a formula for a hit. But even with its popular soundtrack and Taymor’s credentials, Across The Universe did not replicate the success of other jukebox movie musicals of the decade like Moulin Rouge! (2001) or Mamma Mia! (2008).
The film was a total flop at the box office, making just US$29.6 million (A$41.8 million) against a production budget of US$70.8 million (A$99.9 million). It was slammed by critics.
Time Out described Across the Universe as “often so embarrassing to watch that you’ll be checking over your shoulder to check that no one’s looking.”
Stephen Holden from the New York Times called it “unadulterated white, middle-class baby boomer nostalgia”.
But these sentiments miss the beauty and the artistry of Taymor’s reinvention of the music and the period.
Our personal connection to pop music
Particularly interesting about Across the Universe is the way it activates a nostalgic longing for the counterculture of the 1960s through an absence of The Beatles – it is not a biopic about them, nor do they appear in the film.
Taymor uses The Beatles as a recognisable language. The characters take ownership of the songs’ sentiments, using popular music in the way ordinary people do all the time.
While Mamma Mia! completely decoupled ABBA’s songs from their origin, Across The Universe involves the audience in remembering The Beatles’ music, deploying these memories to make sense of the film and its reworking of the 1960s.
Jude and Max bond over their shared rejection of society and become involved in a free-wheeling group of artists; Jo-Jo, dejected after his brother is killed by the National Guard, joins Sadie in creating experimental music; Prudence runs away from home as she struggles with her sexuality.
All along, the Beatles’ songs allow the audience insight into young characters who struggle with identity, expression and emotional development. With glorious artistic direction and enthusiastic choreography, Taymor reworks the famous lyrics for new characters and a new narrative.
In I Want You (She’s So Heavy), the originally erotic song lyrics are sung by a frightening Uncle Sam during Max’s drafting appointment. Uncle Sam reaches out from his poster and drags Max into an aggressive medical examination that becomes a dance sequence with an army sergeant.
The song ends with Max and the fresh recruits carrying a giant Statue of Liberty through the Vietnamese jungle as they sing “she’s so heavy”.
This number resembles a trippy music video, relying on Taymor’s distinctive mix of theatrics, animation and puppetry. An originally sexy song becomes a frightening commentary on the senseless war in Vietnam.
When Max returns, he sings Happiness is a Warm Gun in a hospital ward with other injured soldiers. He hallucinates a vision of a beautiful nurse (Salma Hayek) who multiplies, administering morphine to the patients. The melancholy and nonsensical nature of the first verse is presented as Max’s incoherent ramblings to Lucy.
Across the Universe understands the ways a reworked cover version can be used as personal expression. I Want to Hold Your Hand is sung by the closeted Prudence as she pines after a fellow cheerleader.
A once cheerful upbeat pop song about a cutesy love interest turns into a slow lament of lost love.
Taymor says she set out to reimagine the film musical by harnessing the power of music videos as an alternative to traditional production numbers. The film successfully combined the film musical and the music video years before Glee (2009-15) used the same format when gay cheerleaders sang to each other.
Across the Universe was dismissed for its cliched pastiche of the 1960s. But if you consider the way the film re-purposed the music for a new 60s without the Beatles, Taymor reinvigorated both the film genre and the music we thought we knew.
The unfolding in French Polynesia of the latest judiciary entanglements of pro-independence leader Oscar Temaru versus the French administration is being closely followed by members of the Tahitian community in Tahiti and in Aotearoa New Zealand.
There are undeniable similarities between Temaru’s upcoming trial on November 4 in Nouméa after many deferrals, and the expedient trial of Te metua – Pouvana’a a O’opa, the leading figure of the Ma’ohi people, 60 years ago.
Pouvana’a was accused of plotting to burn down Tahiti’s capital Pape’ete, but trumped up charges were made against him because of his fight for an independent Ma’ohi nation.
Te metua – Pouvana’a a O’opa … Exiled for 23 years to France on trumped up charges. Image: 1ere TV
Exiled for 23 years to France after a mockery of a judgment, he was allowed back in Tahiti in 1968 after being pardoned.
Temaru’s judgment has all the makings of a déjà-vu. History is kind enough to remind us about the many disagreements and annoyances caused by Temaru to the French administration spanning more than 50 years:
Temaru was arrested and jailed for protesting against the nuclear tests in Moruroa
France’s military intervention in the French Polynesia presidential elections won by Temaru in 2004 for fear of social unrest
A string of anti-French actions that have displeased the Paris establishment and, to some extent, the local autonomist government.
So, what has been the straw that broke the camel’s back and why is this new trial so different that the French judicial machine felt justified in seizing money from Temaru’s personal bank account?
Background to the Radio Tefana affair In June 2020, French prosecutor Herve Leroy seized NZ$145,000 from Temaru’s personal bank account after the former territorial president and current mayor of Faa’a was convicted of exercising undue influence because the court ruled that community Radio Tefana benefited his own pro-independence political party.
The Radio Tefana affair … the pro-independence community radio remains the last media platform calling for accountability from both the local Tahitian and French governments. Image: Ena Manuireva
This trial can only be understood as a retaliation against Temaru’s decision in 2018 to take France’s living presidents to the International Criminal Court for alleged crimes against humanity over the nuclear weapons tests between 1966 and 1996. This was clearly the last straw for the French political establishment.
Questions related to why the French judiciary could not perform its duty on Tahitian soil but prioritised first the High Council for the Judiciary in France before deciding to send the case to Kanaky New Caledonia remains enigmatic to say the least.
There is overwhelming support for Temaru from the local Tahitian population – from the religious, the social, the political even judicial corners.
As mayor of the most populated district in French Polynesia, he refuses to be intimidated and from our personal communication, he has vowed to take the fight to the highest authority nationally or internationally.
In Nouméa, “our brothers and sisters Kanak”, as he calls them, are ready to welcome us and they will be a tremendous support during the trial – both indigenous people are fighting for their independence from France.
His fast was also to teach the population a new way of fighting obesity and all the various diseases that it causes. He is not advocating violence and unrest, but he is fighting legally through the courts.
Pro-independence community station Radio Tefana … subject of an “exerting undue influence” court case last year. Image: Radio Tefana/RNZ
Temaru’s hopes about this trial At a time when the media is being muzzled and reporters are being silenced worldwide, the voice of the pro-independence community Radio Tefana remains the only and last media platform calling for accountability from both the local Tahitian and French governments.
The hope for Temaru is for a not guilty verdict and for the court to allow the radio to perform its duty of providing public information, especially during this period of covid-19 that has heavily hit his airport town of Faa’a and the capital Pape’ete.
The Oscar Temaru letter to New Zealand … an appeal to Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern over decolonisation. Image: Ena Manuireva
But Temaru questions French justice and will not back down even if it means requesting a meeting with New Zealand’s newly re-elected Prime Minister Jacinda Arden to assist a decolonisation programme that France has so far failed to discuss.
It is also at the back of Temaru’s mind that the decision to move the trial outside of Tahiti was designed and planned by the French judicial authorities to put yet another spanner in the works.
Popular sympathy might be less in New Caledonia with a bigger French proportion of the population (27 percent) than in French Polynesia (10 percent).
According to Temaru, France has not ceased “to put him on trial” and whatever the outcome this time, France will stick to the same agenda – and so will Temaru.
His fight for independence for the nuna’a Ma’ohi (Ma’ohi people) is a lifelong battle as he celebrates his birthday in Tahiti.
The last fighter of an era The Tahitian pro-independence leader might be one of the last iconic figures of his generation who sits beside other political leaders, friends and sympathisers alive – or not – of the same era such as Jean-Marie Tjibaou (Kanaky New Caledonia), Walter Lini (Vanuatu), Henry Puna (Cook Islands).
Regardless of the verdict after the judgment, Temaru will be remembered as the force who will still stand up strong like Pouvana’a a O’opa against French neo-colonialism six decades ago.
Ena Manuireva is an Auckland University of Technology academic and PhD candidate who is from Mangareva, one of the French Polynesian islands most affected by the French nuclear tests for three decades until they ended in 1996. He wrote this article especially for the Pacific Media Centre’s Asia Pacific Report.
Notes: 1. France is never at its UN seat when the question of decolonising French Polynesia is on the agenda. 2. In 2019, the current territorial President Édouard Fritch was convicted and condemned for the same amount for arranging for the town administration of Pirae, where he was mayor, to pay for the water supply to the upmarket Erima neighbourhood, where longtime President Gaston Flosse lived.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By A J Brown, Professor of Public Policy & Law, Centre for Governance & Public Policy, Griffith University
Australia has come a significant step closer to forming a federal anti-corruption agency, when federal Attorney-General Christian Porter released draft legislation designed to set up a Commonwealth Integrity Commission (CIC).
It is promising, but has big problems. Fortunately, the attorney-general has signalled key elements of the proposal are still up for negotiation in parliament. A consultation period will run from November 2020 to March 2021 to allow time for feedback on the draft legislation.
The bill puts detail on an anti-corruption model for which the federal government has already been heavily criticised since it was first released in December 2018.
But with the political consensus behind a federal agency now spread across all parties, and into a government bill, it’s a historic step towards a genuine strengthening of Australia’s integrity system in 2021 — if or when the Morrison government amends its bill to overcome the problems.
Three issues — resources, scope and powers — will determine if the new Commonwealth Integrity Commission can help restore flagging trust in Australia’s ability to deal with corruption.
Resources: where the CIC proposal is on its strongest ground
In the 15 years since Transparency International Australia first recommended a national anti-corruption agency, funding has been central to the discussion. A poorly-resourced Commonwealth Integrity Commission cannot be effective.
This is where the proposal is on its strongest ground. Porter’s announcement confirmed A$106.7 million in new funding over four years. That’s on top of the $40.7 million already spent on the ACLEI (Australian Commission for Law Enforcement Integrity), to be absorbed by the CIC.
This means an agency with an annual budget of $42 million when fully operational.
That’s not enough to fix all the gaps in our creaking accountability framework, as shown in my research team’s soon-to-be-finalised national integrity system assessment of Australia. But it’s over double what the Australian Labor Party originally estimated.
It finally moves ACLEI well beyond the minuscule budget and narrow remit it had when it was founded in 2006, after the Howard government first promised to create what many hoped would be an independent national anti-corruption body.
With corruption risks rising in the post-COVID world, we are at least slowly going in the right direction — and that’s important.
NSW Premier Gladys Berejiklian recently gave evidence during the NSW Independent Commission Against Corruption hearings for inquiry into allegations surrounding former Wagga MP Daryl Maguire. Many have long called for a federal version of ICAC.AAP/ICAC
More agencies will be covered by ACLEI’s powers from January 1 2021, as its jurisdiction expands to cover four new law enforcement and regulatory bodies, including ASIC and the ATO. But for 80% of the federal government, including politicians, the CIC’s strong powers can only be exercised in private, and only where there is a reasonable suspicion of a criminal offence.
So the powers may be strong — including compelling people to give sworn evidence at private hearings, search and seizure of property (under warrant), and tapping phones. But there will be little or no jurisdiction to get to the bottom of “grey area” corruption like undisclosed conflicts of interest, unless a criminal offence like fraud, theft or bribery is already obvious.
The CIC’s powers would exceed those of a Royal Commission.AAP Image/Kelly Barnes
The scope is also narrow because, while federal agency heads must report suspected corruption offences, this is only if they meet the same threshold.
If a public service whistleblower approaches the new commission directly, with reasonable suspicions of corruption breaches but no actual evidence of an offence, they would have to be turned away.
Indeed, under clause 70 of the bill, they could risk prosecution for making an unwarranted allegation. This is a draconian idea that defies the purpose of federal whistleblowing legislation.
Public hearing powers: a worry
The inability of the CIC to use public hearings for 80% of the federal government is the feature that would likely make many Australians most worried.
How this problem is fixed in the final bill will be the key to securing a strong agency with a wider, pro-integrity remit.
It’s a worry for the government because in Australia, and overseas, the problem of strong anti-corruption powers being used as a weapon against political opponents is real. There is little value in integrity bodies that become costly political weapons, damaging more than restoring public trust.
Coalition MPs are especially fearful of the way the NSW Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC) has used public hearings in the past – such as its ambush of NSW Premier Barry O’Farrell in 2015, prompting his resignation despite the commission’s conclusion he had “no intention […] to mislead”.
The next steps will need to include other solutions to this problem, ensuring public hearing powers can be used when needed, and not when it’s unnecessary.
If this can be achieved, along with other improvements based on public feedback, there is a real chance of the Commonwealth Integrity Commission standing the test of time.
And that would mean, after 15 long years, an enduring, independent agency supported by all sides of politics – not one undermined by partisan criticism or allegations of ineffectiveness.
Chief of Australia Post Christine Holgate has fallen on her sword, admitting the “optics” of her gift of Cartier watches to four high-performing employees did not pass the “pub test” for many people.
Holgate’s Monday resignation follows Scott Morrison’s ferocious parliamentary attack on her last month, when he said “the chief executive … has been instructed to stand aside, if she doesn’t wish to do that, she can go.”
Earlier that day, Holgate had revealed, under Labor questioning in Senate estimates, that she had given the watches as rewards.
The Prime Minister was particularly infuriated by Holgate’s claim they were not paid for by the taxpayer because Australia Post – which is government owned – was a commercial enterprise.
Morrison immediately set up an inquiry into the watches, which totalled nearly $20,000 in value, and other Australia Post expenses.
In a statement on Monday, Holgate said that with “great sadness” she had offered her resignation to the Post chair and board, with immediate effect. “I am not seeking any financial compensation,” she said.
She said she would make herself available to participate in the inquiry.
Holgate has been the object of a sustained leaking campaign to undermine her, perhaps involving disgruntled employees, former and/or current.
Morrison’s attack on her has been criticised by some high profile business figures, who think he went beyond what was justified in response to her misjudgement.
Holgate said as Christmas approached, with its significant challenges, it was critically important Australia Post was absolutely focused on its customers and communities.
“I firmly believe the ‘ship’ needs a strong captain at the helm to help navigate through this time,” she said.
“The current issue I am managing is a significant distraction and I do not believe it is good for either Australia Post or my own personal wellbeing.
“Consequently, I have made the difficult decision to resign, hoping it will allow the organisation to fully focus on serving our customers.”
While conceding the watches had been bad optics, Holgate defended rewarding the employees who had forged a deal for banking services to be available through Post Offices.
“I have always sought to recognise and thank the efforts of our 80,000 strong extended team, as together they are the real heroes behind our results. Philosophically, I believe if you want to drive positive change, you need to thank and reward positive behaviours.
“However, I deeply regret that a decision made two years ago, which was supported by the Chair, to recognise the outstanding work of four employees has caused so much debate and distraction and I appreciate the optics of the gifts involved do not pass the ‘pub test’ for many.
“I still believe firmly that the people who achieved the Bank@Post outcome for Australia Post deserved recognition, their work secured a $220m investment over the following years, which dramatically improved the financial performance of the company, protected a critical community service which more than 50% of the communities in Australia depend on and made our Community Post Offices sustainable for the long term.”
She said she had “no animosity towards the Government and have enjoyed working with the Prime Minister, the Shareholder Ministers and many other political leaders during my tenure”.
“I am deeply appreciative of the significant support I have received from our people, our customers, our partners – especially our Community Licensed Post Offices and individuals across the country. I have made this difficult decision to leave to enable Australia Post to be able to fully focus on delivering for our customers.
“My sincere apologies if my words or actions have offended others as this would never have been my intention because I have always held Australia Post in the greatest regard.”
The union covering postal workers said Holgate’s resignation would not solve the “rot” at Australia Post.
It said the workforce “had been dismayed at recent management strategies including intentional underemployment, the move away from daily deliveries and a parcel back log that continues to grow out of control in many areas”.
CEPU Communications Union National Secretary Greg Rayner said “There’s something seriously wrong when management thinks nothing of splashing out on Cartier luxury watches but delivers only cut backs and service cuts for the rest of us”.
He said the “rest of the so-called leadership team must be held accountable for this mess”.
In times of flux and crisis, nostalgia works like a social ointment, mixed and mashed together through imperfect memory.
Netflix’s re-release of Dawson’s Creek (1998-2003) is an ointment tailor-made for adults who were once 90s kids. In the 90s we were on the verge of adulthood, all the complexity of the teenage drama playing out on Dawson’s Creek titillating our adolescence. And now we’ve arrived, we want desperately to go back to our teenage years.
Dawson’s Creek was time of simpler politics, the beauty of youth and the innocence of virginity.
In the idyllic town of Capeside, Dawson Leery (James Van Der Beek) is a typical 90s all-American teen with a passion for film and popular culture. The series traces the complexity of Dawson’s close adolescent friendship groups, romantic relationships and the angsty problems plaguing teen life.
As for sexual tension, Dawson’s Creek flirted with it all – from the virginal girl-next-door Joey (Katie Holmes) to the sexually-mature out-of-towner Jen (Michelle Williams). And let’s not forget Dawson’s best friend, Pacey Witter (Joshua Jackson), whose tryst with a 36-year-old English teacher seems even creepier in hindsight.
Still, like all things nostalgic, our memories of Dawson’s Creek have to do with a longing for a golden age that never truly existed. COVID has enhanced these feelings of longing for a romanticised past: whether a golden age of bread-baking or through wearing “Mom jeans”.
Comfort food
We often return to familiar stories after a crisis. After the 9/11 attacks, American television and film emphasised strong role models of masculinity and the “cowboy” mythology. Americans were looking for a sense of security – a steely-eyed hero to swoop in and make everything OK again.
Dawson’s Creek brings us back to innocence and simplicity. Even if it was always just a fantasy.
We can’t return to our teenage lives – and perhaps that is the comfort.AP Photo/WB, Tim Rook
In the summery Cape Cod town of Dawson’s Creek, teens are free to touch, embrace, love, and roam freely. And they certainly do all those things in spades.
A central tension of the series is the love triangle between Dawson, Pacey and Joey. While it brings all manner of tears and diatribes, Dawson’s Creek offers a micro-drama we know will eventually resolve. The only thing better than no problem is a problem we know can be fixed.
Returning to the creek
When the series streamed on the weekend, I jumped in and found Capeside exactly where I had left it: in unbearably pristine condition. But with fresh eyes, the cringe-factor was astronomical.
One of the great elements of the show, differing from others of its nature and era was the cadence of the dialogue. The writers clearly had no regard for how teenagers spoke.
In the first episode, Joey foreshadows the coming season’s narrative, telling Dawson “[…] our emerging hormones are destined to alter our relationship and I’m trying to limit the fallout”.
Re-watching as an adult, it feels exactly how a teenager wants to sound, but usually falls endearingly short.
I can’t recall making any quippy statements that perfectly articulated a meta-analysis of my own chaotic adolescent experience.
Then there’s the scene where the new English teacher, Tamara (Leann Hunley), meets Pacey for the first time at the video store and asks for a copy of The Graduate (1967). Clearly, the writers were not going for subtlety.
Reliving teenage life
Dawson’s Creek brings with it a carnival of long-lost 90s moments: the posters on Dawson’s wall referencing Spielberg films; his job at the local video store; the cassettes and VHS tapes strewn around teenage bedrooms; the grunge-lite clothing.
Though our teen years comprise a small fraction of our lives, they often hold far more emotional weight. Psychologists theorise this is because of the impact of the often painful negotiation between holding onto the safety of childhood, and the dreams of emerging adulthood.
This negotiation marks these years with such force they stay imprinted in ways other decades do not.
During this time, there is also a critical relationship between the importance of popular culture and moments of identity formation. The art we grow up with imprints upon our psyche for life.
So perhaps I am not so much cringing at the show, but cringing at myself. Dawson’s Creek gives me a safe space to revisit my teenage years. Through remembering what I watched, I can remember who I was.
Known knowns
It is strange to watch the show now we know how it turned out – both on screen and off. We leave the crew as they leave the creek, trying to find their own feet in the world in their own burgeoning adulthoods.
Holmes had some great parts but never seemed to thrive in her acting career, while Jackson has shone in subsequent television roles. But it was Williams who became the breakout star. The youngest major cast member, she has been nominated for four Academy Awards.
Back in the day Dawson’s Creek offered us an escape – even if momentarily. And now, perhaps it has a similar function. In the turmoil of 2020, it is comforting to return to the fantasy of Capeside’s pristine community, where the biggest problem is who will Joey choose?
Cromwell and Lake Dunstan from the lookout. Camera at -45.051005°, 169.214617°
Image, Wikipedia.org.
Article by Keith Rankin.
New Zealand’s most egregious placename
Keith Rankin.
Over an extended Labour Weekend, I undertook a four-day road trip from Auckland to Cromwell. It was great to reconnect on the way with places like Taihape, Blenheim, Kaikoura, Ashburton, and Fairlie; and to appreciate that this was possible in an environment where almost nobody felt sufficiently unsafe to wear facemasks, where other people were just good Kiwis (ie not a potential health threat to me), and where I was not seen as a threat (despite coming from Auckland).
Cromwell is a beautiful town that’s the economic hub of a very special region of New Zealand, Central Otago. And it has a museum that I enjoyed visiting, and learning much about its history. But why-o-why that name? Nothing in the museum explained the name, though I was soon able to work it out.
I went to Cromwell to make a delivery to an address in Donegal Street, which is near the historical precinct. On the way there, streets I encountered were Antrim, Monaghan, Sligo, Coleraine, Leitrim, Down; and there’s a Boyne Place. The old store in the historic precinct is the Belfast Store. And Melmore Street – the main street of Old Cromwell, was named after a village – now a caravan park – in the far north of Ireland.
Cromwell hasn’t always been ‘Cromwell’, even in colonial times. Its first Pākehā name was The Junction. Its ‘official’ Māori name is Tirau, and it has also been called Kawarau. However, the most assertive colonisation of the Clutha/Kawarau junction in the 1860s was by men from Ulster. And they brought their baggage with them.
Cromwell was proudly named by them after Oliver Cromwell, the effective founder of the sectarian Ulster, the Northern Ireland we recognise as the United Kingdom’s political tinderbox. From 1649 to 1650, Oliver Cromwell – autocrat of England following the execution of King Charles – initiated the most substantial act of ethnic cleansing in British recorded history. Subsequently, the north of Ireland was resettled by Scottish Presbyterian immigrants. This historical situation created the ‘Troubles’ of the late twentieth century, and remains the basis for the most difficult challenge to the practical realisation of Brexit. There is no pride any longer; the name is an unacknowledged embarrassment.
What else might Cromwell be called? Its Māori names – Tirau and Kawarau – are already names of towns in New Zealand. And ‘The Junction’ would only succour nostalgia for the days before the Clyde Dam required the drowning of much of the old town – and Cromwell’s outskirts – to create Lake Dunstan. One possibility for a new name is ‘Reko’, the name of the guide who escorted explorer Nathaniel Chalmers up the Clutha valley and on to Lake Wakatipu.
Other towns and cities
Pembroke became Wanaka – named after the lake – in 1940. Alexandra (North) became Pirongia – named after the mountain – in 1896 to avoid confusion with Alexandra. There are precedents for the restoration of Māori names.
Palmerston North should have become Papaioea, long ago. Though it is never too late. When I was on my OE (‘overseas experience’) in London in the 1970s, I always wanted to tell people I was born on Ōtaki, raised in Papaioea, and hailed from Aotearoa. It never worked though. To the English, my origins sounded interplanetary rather than interoceanic. Further, few Kiwis in London had heard of Papaioea, and for many Ōtaki was only known as the name of a song by The Fourmyula.
Dodgy names – in the Cromwellian sense – include Napier, Hastings and Clive.
Hamilton – the name of a fallen officer at Gate Pa – at least recognises the particular war that led to that city’s creation, and the battle which represented British military failure in the Waikato War. There is a problem with the Māori name – like Paraparaumu, Kirikiriroa has too many syllables – and might be shortened to something too much like ‘Kerikeri’. Hamilton could become Waikato, however, just as Whanganui is the name of both a city and a river.
Wellington and Nelson both relate to major heroic figures in British history; heroic in ways that Cromwell was not. There is an argument for keeping those names. One counterargument is that there are too many other Wellingtons and Nelsons in the world.
Palmerston North is an interesting case, named after one of the most important statesmen of the Victorian era; Lord Palmerston died in office just as Palmerston North was beginning. Palmerston was a more important person in British history even than Lord Melbourne, though maybe not as esteemed as the Duke of Wellington. Unlike the Duke, Palmerston was a significant ‘progressive’ – as Foreign Minister and Prime Minister – in the context of his time. However, Palmerston also gained a significant reputation as a sexual predator; nevertheless, tolerated by his political allies in the same sense that Donald Trump’s and Bill Clinton’s indiscretions were overlooked by their supporters. The ‘Me Too’ movement is a reason why Palmerston North – a progressive city, with arguably more PhDs per square kilometre than any other city in New Zealand – should get on with restoring its Māori name.
Then there’s Auckland; named after George Eden, Earl of Auckland, Viceroy of India. Auckland, while higher up the class ladder than Hamilton, was no hero or statesman on the scale of Nelson, Wellington or Palmerston. We could maintain a nod to him, in Eden Park. Otherwise the main reason to keep his titular name is that it is already the entrenched name for the city. Also, the Māori name – Tāmaki Makaurau – is too long. And Tāmaki is already established as the eastern portion of Auckland. I think the transliteration ‘Akarana’ could work, though, as an alternative to ‘Auckland’.
Aotearoa?
The ‘elephant in the room’ – of course – is ‘New Zealand’ itself. How many New Zealanders know how, when and why we got our European name?
I like the name New Zealand. It has been the most prominent name for our territory, and in continuous use since 1643, named for the principals of the Dutch East India Company to match the then name – New Holland – of our trans-Tasman neighbour. The principals of the Dutch East India Company (VOC) were from the maritime provinces of Holland and Zeeland. The European ‘discovery’ of New Zealand was made in December 1642 by Abel Tasman, an employee of the VOC.
How many other territories have had the same name for nearly 400 years? A few in Europe, Asia, Africa, Pasifika, and Caribbean. But not many.
One problem with the name ‘Aotearoa’ is that we are not yet used to calling ourselves ‘Aoteroans’; indeed to many foreign ears ‘Aotearoan’ sounds a bit alien. On a Google search ‘Aotearoan’ only gets 38,000 hits, while Aotearoa gets 13 million. ‘Australia’ and ‘Australian’ get about the same number of hits as each other.
So, I think that Aotearoa New Zealand works in a semi-official sense, with both Aotearoa and New Zealand equally acceptable in a general sense. ‘New Zealand’ continues to work best in an international comparative sense, with NZ as an abbreviation that’s almost as well-established as UK or USA or UAE. ANZ doesn’t work as well; it’s the name of a bank.
If we ever do go as far as completely dropping the name ‘New Zealand’, I think that would also the time to replace ‘Auckland’.
Two days before Wednesday’s US election (AEDT), the FiveThirtyEight national aggregate gives Joe Biden an 8.6% lead over Donald Trump (52.0% to 43.4%). In the key states, Biden leads by 8.3% in Wisconsin, 8.2% in Michigan, 4.8% in Pennsylvania, 3.1% in Arizona and 2.2% in Florida.
Biden’s lead in Pennsylvania is almost four points below his national lead, and that gives Trump hope of pulling off an Electoral College/popular vote split, as occurred at the 2016 election. Pennsylvania is the most likely “tipping-point” state that could put either Trump or Biden over the magic 270 Electoral Votes.
If Biden loses Pennsylvania, but wins Michigan, Wisconsin and Arizona, he would have 269 Electoral Votes, one short of 270. Either Maine’s or Nebraska’s second Congressional District could in that scenario give Biden the narrowest of Electoral College wins. These states award one Electoral Vote to the winner of each of their districts, and two to the statewide winner. All other states are winner-takes-all.
In 2016, Hillary Clinton lost the tipping-point state (Wisconsin) by 0.8%, while winning the popular vote by 2.1% – a difference between the tipping-point and popular vote of 2.9%.
Analyst Nate Silver says while Trump can plausibly win, he would need the polls to be wrong by far more than in 2016. At this stage in 2016, the FiveThirtyEight forecast gave Trump a 35% chance; he currently has just a 10% chance. Trump only has a 3% chance to win the popular vote.
Trump had one very good poll result from a high-quality pollster: a Selzer Iowa poll gave him a seven-point lead in that state. But most high-quality polls have been far better for Biden: Siena polls for The New York Times gave Biden six-point leads in Arizona and Pennsylvania, a three-point lead in Florida and an 11-point lead in Wisconsin.
In FiveThirtyEight aggregates, Biden leads by 2.0% in North Carolina and 1.5% in Georgia. He trails by 0.3% in Ohio, 1.2% in Texas and 1.7% in Iowa. If Biden won all these states, he would win over 400 Electoral Votes. Florida is now in this group of states when it had previously been better for Biden.
Trump’s net job approval ratings have jumped three points since last week. In the FiveThirtyEight aggregate, his net approval with all polls is -8.5%, and -7.0% with polls of likely or registered voters. The RealClearPolitics average has Biden’s net favourability at +7, while Trump’s is -13.
I wrote for The Poll Bludger on October 22 that there are two key measures where Biden is doing far better than Clinton. First, Biden is over 50% in national polls, which Clinton never achieved. Second, he has a net positive favourability rating, whereas both Clinton and Trump were very unpopular in 2016.
The US election results will come through on Wednesday from 10am AEDT. You can read my wrap for The Poll Bludger of when polls close in the key states and results are expected. A key early results state is Florida; most polls close at 11am AEDT, but the very right-wing Panhandle closes an hour later.
In the FiveThirtyEight Classic Senate forecast, Democrats now have a 79% chance to win control. The most likely outcome is a 52-48 Democratic majority. The 80% confidence range is 48 to 56 Democratic seats.
Labor set for increased Queensland majority
With 68% of enrolled voters counted at Saturday’s Queensland election, the ABC is calling Labor wins in 50 of the 93 seats. The LNP has won 30 seats, all Others seven, and six seats are in doubt. Labor won 48 seats at the 2017 election, so they have already improved on that.
Current statewide primary votes are 40.2% Labor (up 4.8% since 2017), 35.8% LNP (up 2.1%), 9.0% Greens (down 1.0%), 7.0% One Nation (down 6.8%), 2.6% Katter’s Australian Party (up 0.3%) and a paltry 0.6% for Clive Palmer’s United Australia Party.
In Saturday night’s article, I wrote that the Greens could win four seats. They won Maiwar and South Brisbane, and appeared to have good chances in Cooper and McConnel. However, postal counting has pushed the Greens into third in both Cooper and McConnel, and they are now too far behind the LNP in both seats to realistically hope to overtake. Labor will win these seats on Greens preferences.
Jacinda Ardern’s new “COVID cabinet” is pretty much the same as — and completely unlike — every previous government under the mixed member proportional (MMP) system.
The similarity involves the political accommodation reached between Labour and the Greens. Every government formed since 1996 has rested on such arrangements. This one does too.
The difference lies in Ardern’s administration being the first single-party majority government since the electoral rules changed in the mid-1990s. Add to that the arrangement with the Greens and they have a massive 74-seat bloc in the House — 13 more than is needed to govern.
In brute political terms, Ardern is at the head of one of (and perhaps the) biggest parliamentary alliances in the nation’s history.
The Greens’ consolation prize
The deal announced over the weekend is a cooperation agreement. Think of it as the smallest of the consolation prizes, the thing you’re offered when your support is nice to have but not really necessary.
For the 15% of Green delegates who voted against it, perhaps it was just too small, and you can see their point. In the last government (when the party had eight rather than ten seats), the Greens held ten full or associate portfolios.
None of their ministers sat in cabinet, true, but there were four in the executive. Now there are only two, holding four portfolios between them — and they’re still not sitting at the top table.
Look more closely at the detail, though, and things get more interesting.
Nice to have: Jacinda Ardern signs the co-operation agreement with Green Party co-leaders Marama Davidson and James Shaw.GettyImages
A new kind of MMP
The Green ministers will participate in relevant cabinet committees and informal ministerial groups, have access to officials’ papers, and get to meet with the prime minister at least every six weeks. Labour and the Greens’ respective chiefs of staff will also meet regularly.
What’s more, the party will chair one parliamentary committee and get the deputy’s slot on another. In non-portfolio areas of mutual interest, Green spokespeople will have access to Labour ministers and departmental advice.
All that and they get to publicly disagree with the government on policies that fall outside Green portfolios. That is not a bad policy haul for a party Labour does not need to form a government.
And there is no way any of it would have happened under the single-party majority governments we used to see under the previous first-past-the-post system. So it may be a consolation prize, but in fact it’s not that small.
New Foreign Affairs Minister Nanaia Mahuta becomes the first woman to hold the position.GettyImages
A more diverse government
As well as being the first single-party majority MMP government, it is also a diverse one. In her first term Ardern acknowledged the importance of having more women in cabinet. Nearly half (47%) of the new parliament — and a majority of Labour’s caucus (53%) — are women.
To some extent this is reflected in the makeup of the executive. Eight of the 20 full cabinet members are women; in total, women comprise 43% of the wider administration. There are more women in the ministry than in the National Party’s caucus.
The executive also contains a solid number of people of colour: perhaps as many as a quarter of all ministers and parliamentary under-secretaries are non-Pākehā.
On election night, Labour’s Māori caucus conveyed a direct message to the prime minister about the importance of a solid Māori presence in Cabinet. She appears to have listened.
Between them, Labour’s Māori MPs get five seats in cabinet. Add positions outside cabinet as well as the Greens’ Marama Davidson and Māori comprise 25% of all members of the executive. Perhaps most noteworthy is that Nanaia Mahuta becomes the country’s first female Minister of Foreign Affairs.
Ardern has also looked carefully at her back bench and the clutch of incoming MPs, bringing some of them into the political executive. Jan Tinetti and Kiri Allan have been marked for higher things for some time, while the newly minted MP Dr Ayesha Verrall comes straight into cabinet as an associate health minister.
Kelvin Davis opted not to remain as deputy prime minister, but will stay on as Labour Party deputy leader.AAP
Power and control
Under certain circumstances a large parliamentary caucus can be a challenge. Thwarted egos, stifled ambitions, fits of pique — once the thrill of the election result has worn off, managing relations between those who are in government and the wider parliamentary party will be one of the chief challenges facing Labour’s whips.
The Green co-leaders aside, Ardern’s executive comprises 40% of the Labour party’s caucus. Given the conventions of collective cabinet responsibility, this means that members of the government have a near majority within caucus, so discipline shouldn’t be an issue — yet.
It is hard to overstate just how much control Ardern has over New Zealand’s 53rd parliament. Even before special votes are counted, the parliamentary arithmetic renders National, ACT and the Māori Party virtually irrelevant.
Labour dominates the executive, and between them Labour and the Greens will dominate the legislature and its committees. Voters have placed considerable power in Ardern’s hands. It’s time to see what she does with it.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Robert Breunig, Professor of Economics and Director, Tax and Transfer Policy Institute, Crawford School of Public Policy, Australian National University
Polls point to a decisive defeat for Donald Trump. But his unexpected win in 2016 still has opponents rattled, fearing the same divisive rhetoric that characterised his 2016 campaign could help him scrape home.
The US has not been so divided by politics, religion and identity in decades. Particularly troubling are the nation’s inflamed ethnic divisions.
Overall, polls show a majority of voters disapprove of Trump’s handling of “race relations”.
But now, as in 2016, what matters is the view of voters in the “rust-belt” states of Iowa, Wisconsin, Michigan, Ohio and Pennsylvannia, which all swung to Trump in 2016 on the back of strong support from white working-class voters.
By racialised economics they mean the important sentiment underlying Trump’s support was not “I might lose my job” but “people in my group are losing jobs to that other group”. Individualised economic anxiety was replaced by group fears and perceived grievances.
Our more recent research, using a nationally representative sample of nearly 500,000 Americans, largely supports this contention. It also suggests that behind the appeal of this ethnic identity politics hide deeper issues of social disconnectedness.
Biden and Trump supporters clash prior to the vice-presidential debate in Salt Lake City on October 7 2020.Jeff Swinger/AP
With Trump’s mishandling of the COVID-19 pandemic dominating 2020, and an opponent who isn’t Hillary Clinton, the dog whistling to white voters looks unlikely to work as it did four years ago.
But the problems Trump has weaponised won’t be defused merely by his defeat.
For Biden to make good on his promise to heal the nation’s divisions, he will need to address the social disconnection providing fertile conditions for racialised economics.
The psychology driving racial animus
To analyse the significance of racialised economics in the US, we combined county-level data on economic indicators with individual-level well-being and socioeconomic data. Our primary data source was nearly 500,000 observations from the US Gallup Daily Poll (which has polled 500 American adults every day since 2008). Our data set covered the period 2014 to 2018.
The key things we wanted to analyse from this information were measures of “relatedness”, “social capital” and “worry”, cross-relating these with “racial animus” and voting preference.
Relatedness reflects personal security and fulfilment from social connection. It is measured through responses to questions such as “I cannot imagine living in a better community”, “The area where I live is perfect for me” and “my friends and family give me energy every day”.
Social capital is also about connectedness, but to do with community cohesion rather than the personal experience of relationships. It is measured through things like the extent to which people know their neighbours and participate in community activities. Such connections have declined precipitously over the past 50 years. In particular, the share of adults who say most people can be trusted has fallen from 46% in the 1970s to 31%.
Worry is measured by a simple question of whether people experienced worry yesterday.
Racial animus means racial prejudice. We measure it at a county level using Google searches involving racist key words.
Opposing demonstrators face off in the town of Stone Mountain, Georgia, on August 15 2020. Far-right groups rallied there in ‘defence’ of the Confederate Memorial Carving, built in the 1960s to commemorate Confederate leaders,John Amis/EPA
Just as other researchers have found, our county-level results show a correlation between racial animus and Trump’s support in both the 2016 Republican primary race and the presidential election.
More importantly, they also show Trump’s support correlated with relatively high rates of anxiety and relatively low levels of relatedness – and that higher relatedness would have been enough to negate the effect of racial animus.
This suggests people lacking a sense of relatedness in their own environment look to higher-level connections like patriotism and ethnic identity.
That conclusion is supported by social psychology experiments showing that stoking anxiety leads to exaggerated loyalty to an in-group and disdain for other groups.
Indeed, numerous studies have found that initially conscious reminders of threats that do not subsequently arouse conscious distress engender a form of evaluation bias termed worldview defence – the polarisation of ratings for pleasant and against aversive cultural attitudes.
None of this is to suggest declining connectedness and heightened anxiety is the only reason people voted for Trump. The rural communities of “heartland America” that are traditionally majority Republican typically have high social capital (through church affiliations and the like).
But in the key swing “rust-belt” states – constituencies to whom Trump promised to bring back manufacturing and mining jobs – our research suggests worry and anxiety channelled into ethnic group identification was the decisive factor. These areas showed the lowest rates of relatedness in the US.
How anxiety and the need for relatedness lead to racial voting
As he desperately tries to repeat his 2016 success, Trump’s “greatest hits” campaign has again sought to stoke the group fears of white voters.
His campaign has made some effort to suggest he has ethnically diverse supporters, but this is largely seen as as attempt to assure white women he isn’t a racist.
Trump supporters selected to attend his campaign rally at the White House on October 10, 2020.Jose Luis Magana/AP
On the other hand, he has flubbed repeated opportunities to condemn white nationalism, defended Confederate statues, demonised the Black Lives Matter movement and made unsubtle statements about protecting suburbanites from “low-income housing”.
Such rhetoric, though, has been overtaken by events – namely Trump’s dealing with the COVID-19 pandemic and failure to deliver a health-care plan. His other key strengths in 2106 – his appeal as an “outsider”, his promise to “drain the swamp”, his apparent unfiltered “candour”, and his assurances he would fix everything – are no longer so compelling.
But though Biden may well win the rustbelt states, these communities remain economically and cultural insecure, with thinning social capital. Their vulnerability to racial rhetoric remains.
To fulfil his promise to unite America, therefore, a Biden administration will need to address the underlying issues of low social capital and connectedness.
If your dentist recommends a crown, your wisdom teeth extracted, or some other common treatment, you may wonder whether it’s really necessary.
We don’t know how common such over-servicing is. However, our research, which includes interviews with Australian dentists in private practice, published today, shows it is an issue.
Not only is this a problem for patients, some dentists say they feel pressured to recommend unnecessary treatments. And the way dentists are paid for their services actually encourages it.
Over-servicing can occur in many types of health care, with various definitions. But in dentistry, our research defines over-servicing as when dental treatments are provided over and above what’s clinically justified, or where there is no justification for that care at all.
And we’ve known about it in Australia for some time. In 2012, a Sydney dentist went to court and was fined more than A$1.7 million for performing almost $75,000 worth of treatment on one patient, knowing it was unnecessary and would be ineffective.
In 2013, another Sydney dentist was found guilty of over-servicing elderly nursing home patients, some of whom had dementia. He filed down their teeth to fit them for crowns they did not need, without anaesthesia.
However, over-servicing can be less extreme than revealed in these landmark court cases. Dentists we interviewed said they often felt pressured to over-service as part of their day-to-day practice.
We analysed interviews with, and diary entries from, 20 Australian dentists working in private practice, the first study of its kind to include their perspectives on over-servicing.
Most dentists we interviewed had felt pressure to provide unnecessary care. Pressure came from practice owners, or their own need to meet financial commitments.
They spoke about a culture in some practices of “finding treatment” to do, rather than simply treating the issues patients had:
I quit my first job because they were overly commercial and I figured that out about two weeks in because there it was very much a matter of, “how many crowns are you doing per week? We expect our clinicians to be doing at least a crown a day” and there was no real care factor towards, what does the patient actually need? It was very much a matter of, “Okay, you’re seeing a new patient, see if you can get this much revenue out of that one”.
Why does this happen?
Most private dentists in Australia earn their wage linked to how much treatment they provide. So this fee-for-service model provides an incentive for them to provide more treatment, rather than less.
However, over-servicing isn’t inevitable. Some participants said their professional identities as dentists helped them place patients before profit:
Look, I’d always put my professionalism first. There’s been a couple of times when I’ve recommended a crown and I sort of thought “OK, am I doing this because the crown is a high-end item or because I really believe it’s the best thing for the patient?”, and I always go with what I believe is the best thing for the patient.
The dentists we spoke to also said they spent a lot of time considering how they managed patient care in a system inherently skewed to promote over-servicing.
So what happens when you shift away from purely a fee-for-service model? This might include a monthly fee for having a patient registered with a practice or service, as trialled in the United Kingdom.
The amount of clinical treatment reduced, with patients noting little change in the service they received.
We could address the culture of over-servicing by changing the way dentists are paid, away from a pure fee-for-service model. Payments could be linked to measurable improvements in oral health, rather than purely just how much dentists do.
However, with fee-for-service being so entrenched in Australian dentistry, we admit this would be a difficult task, despite the increased awareness of the topic that research like ours brings.
What if I’m not sure I need a recommended treatment?
If you’re not sure why your dentist is recommending a certain treatment, ask. You can also ask about the pros and cons of other options, including doing nothing for now and keeping an eye on things.
If you’re not satisfied with the answer, you can ask for a second opinion. One thing to consider is that you’ll need to ask your dentist for a copy of your clinical records and x-rays (to avoid these needing to be taken again). And if visiting another dentist, you probably will need to pay for another consultation.
If you’re unhappy with your care, the best place to complain to first is your treating clinician; dentists really value receiving feedback and the opportunity to put things right.
What makes a film a classic? In this video series, film scholar Bruce Isaacs looks at a classic film and analyses its brilliance. (Warning: this video contains violence and may be upsetting for some viewers.)
Hollywood has a century-long tradition of political narratives, such as Oliver Stone’s 1991 film JFK. So how do you create a concise political history in cinematic form?
It starts with a staccato drum tattoo and moves into a swelling string movement. The voices of leaders rise from the depths of the past as the director of Salvador, Platoon and Wall Street builds a complex mosaic of American history. The images and sounds masquerade as factual account — but this is anything but objective. It’s creative storytelling using historical bits and pieces as building blocks.
After a summer of relative freedom of movement, autumn has brought a major spike in COVID-19 cases in many European countries. While the European Union fruitlessly searches for a united way forward across its various jurisdictions, national and regional initiatives are trying to solve the conundrum of how to contain and reverse the spread of the virus without having a significant impact on the economy.
Europe is not alone in its suffering – much of the northern hemisphere is dealing with spiralling infection rates as the autumn turns to a long winter. In the United Kingdom, Prime Minister Boris Johnson has announced a month-long lockdown as cases pass the 1 million mark; in the United States, a third wave of COVID is well underway, with the country recording a grim record of 100,000 new cases in a single day.
As France’s President Emmanuel Macron has admitted, the virus has spread through Europe “at a speed that even the most pessimistic predictions didn’t foresee”.
He has branded his new lockdown proposals a “brutal” brake on the virus, but compared with the determined measures undertaken in Victoria, it is a half-measure that stands little chance of eradicating or even suppressing the virus. Schools, shops and many businesses outside the hospitality and entertainment sector will remain open; so too will nursing homes. Travel to and from work will continue and exercise within 1 kilometre of home for up to an hour will also be permitted.
Given the fractious tone of contemporary politics in France, this is probably as far as Macron can go. Whether the French public, already deeply divided, will accept the measures is uncertain. His attempt to divert attention away from the health crisis by opportunistically courting a culture war with France’s Muslim citizens and the rest of the Islamic world has already had devastating consequences.
Should it fall to police to force compliance in the absence of goodwill, protests will quickly sprout, as they have in the Czech Republic, where far-right elements presenting themselves as anti-mask protesters have clashed with police on the streets of Prague.
Germany, which had until recently been spared the higher infection rates of its neighbours, is now also heading on the same trajectory. Chancellor Angela Merkel has warned Germans the exponential growth of infections has left governments no choice but to implement dampening measures to begin on November 2.
While Germany has previously avoided huge COVID numbers, Chancellor Angela Merkel has recently announced a ‘soft lockdown’ to curb its spread.AAP/EPA/Filip Singer
Described as a “soft lockdown”, these measures, like those proposed in France by Macron, ban visits to bars, restaurants, clubs and pubs, but allow schools, shops and places of worship to stay open.
Candidly, Merkel has confessed she would have preferred to have undertaken these measures a fortnight ago, but felt they were simply politically unacceptable then. To her mind, the lag was not ideal. “That’s politics,” she admitted.
Her pessimism might be well founded. Many in Germany’s hospitality and entertainment industries already feel that, while much of society remains open, they have been made to play the part of the sacrificial lamb.
On the noisy margins, Germany’s Qanon-adjacent Querdenker movement insists any measure to stop people dying from COVID constitutes an egregious limitation to their personal liberty.
In typically opportunistic fashion, the right-wing populist party Alternative for Germany (AfD) has also heckled Merkel as she brought the measures before the Bundestag.
The party refused to support Merkel’s argument that it is only through “reason and social solidarity” that the virus can be brought back under control. Instead, like populist right-wing elements the world over, they implausibly argue Merkel is implementing a “corona dictatorship”.
Many in Germany’s hospitality industry feel aggrieved at being forced to shut down while other parts of society remain open.AAP/EPA/Mattias Schrader
With the entire European project predicated on freedom of movement – something accentuated in the debates over Brexit, the Australian approach of simply closing Europe’s internal borders, or even regional borders, has not generally been embraced.
Only Spain has moved rapidly in this direction, halting domestic travel as part of its extension of “state of alarm” measures. Here too, such measures have been met with protests.
As the state most committed to freedom of movement across the European Union, Germany has explicitly warned against such restrictions. Merkel told the EU:
…it is especially important for Germany as a country in the middle of Europe that the borders stay open, that there is a functioning economic circulation and that we fight the pandemic together.
However, it is unlikely the EU can or will move as one on border lockdowns, or indeed any other COVID measure.
The question of mobility is a vexed one for the EU and one where history is more deceptive than illuminating. The Spanish flu model, that many are using to understand the current phases of the pandemic, is not appropriate. Spanish flu was in part accelerated by the global movement of people accompanying demobilisation at the end of the first world war. Unlike then, a “return to normal” today does not mean a return to a condition of global immobility. Now, particularly in Europe, a return to normal means a return to hyper-mobility.
In the absence of a vaccine, how societies respond to both the virus and governments’ attempts to mitigate its effects will matter greatly. As elsewhere, in Europe the pandemic has tested the strength of social solidarity. If there is a strong social conviction that the health of the individual is best protected by preserving the health of all, then governments merely have to offer a set of guidelines on how to put this instinct into practice.
This was to some extent the experience of the first set of lockdowns in the European spring. This time, however, the libertarian far right is far more organised. They see any limitation to personal freedom to ensure community safety as intolerable tyranny. Compounding this is the fact many Europeans are wary of their governments’ poor track records in fostering meaningful social cohesion.
Without community acceptance of government initiatives, the question shifts from organising communities’ desire to protect their vulnerable members to one of police-led enforcement. It is potentially a blunt and alienating approach that erodes whatever goodwill remains.
Europe’s coming winter will test not only the resilience of its health system, but the strength of its social fabric.
West Papuan activists and an Indonesian human rights lawyer criticised the recent military crackdown on the two Melanesian provinces of Papua and West Papua in a New Zealand-hosted webinar at the weekend.
“The Indonesian government is trying to prevent an uprising like last year, when the uprising was against racism and self-determination – that’s what is happening on the ground,” exiled lawyer Veronica Koman said.
She also highlighted some of the findings from the recent report from the London-based Indonesian human rights group TAPOL, West Papua Uprising 2019, and said people wanted the truth.
The report says that more than 40,000 indigenous people of West Papuan have been displaced due to military crackdown. And more than 300 people have died.
West Papua Uprising also reveals that some of the people were allegedly killed by the Indonesian military, some died from malnutrition, and others from illness in the refugee villages.
Koman said that the number of victims recorded in the report was less than the actual number.
The crisis, particularly in the Nduga and Intan Jaya regions, is now a major concern since a third pastor has been killed, said Victor Yeimo, the international spokesperson for Komite Nasional Papua Barat (KNPB), a civil resistance organisation that mobilises and advocates for West Papua’s right to self-determination on independence.
The other webinar speaker was Ronny Kareni, a West Papuan musician and activist, and a community engagement youth worker based in Australia. The #PapuanLivesMatter webinar was moderated by former Green MP Catherine Delahunty and the discussion unfolded on her birthday yesterday.
International campaigns The West Papuan Action Auckland group hosted the webinar on the topic of the current political situation, the opposition to “special autonomy” plans by Indonesia, and campaigns to free West Papua on the ground and internationally.
In the opening session, Delahunty explained that information discussed during the webinar would be used for the political education of Aotearoa New Zealand and local politicians who were “very slow” in taking up the West Papuan human rights and independence issue.
“Now, as most of you know, the situation in West Papua has been extremely serious for many, many years and continues to be a huge problem. And the importance of this solidarity movement across the world cannot be underestimated,” Delahunty said.
Papuan activist Victor Yeimo … the recent killing of a Catholic catechist in Intan Jaya has added more unrest for the indigenous people. Image: PMW
Victor Yeimo said the recent killing of a Catholic catechist in Intan Jaya hadadded more unrest for the indigenous people of West Papua.
“In the last three months we have seen that the Indonesian military has shot our pastor and also a Catholic catechist,” he said.
Opposition to ‘special autonomy’ Kareni, Koman and Yeimo said that the Indonesian-imposed new “special autonomy” status was not the solution to the aspirations of the indigenous people of West Papua.
Most Papuans rejected the Special Autonomy law and wanted a referendum on independence.
“As of today, there are 90 organisations that have joined or signed the petition for the referendum. Webinars, seminars and press statements are continuing day by day to reject the extension of the special autonomy in West Papua,” Yeimo said.
Koman said that the special autonomy was part of Indonesia’s colonialist practice towards the indigenous people of West Papua.
“Special autonomy has been used by Indonesia to whitewash colonialism, and colonialism remains a weapon … this is exactly what Indonesia is creating, class war among West Papuan elites against grassroots,” Koman said.
Kareni said that the special autonomy status was used as a campaign by the Indonesian government.
“The government always uses it as their propaganda in international forums by saying that the people of West Papua are given full rights to rule themselves through the special autonomy law, so what Papuans need is more on development,” he said.
“In its 10 years of ‘special autonomy’, the people of West Papua rejected it and also made a big announcement that it has failed, and now we are into two decades of it. And now [Indonesian government] wants to extend it further.
Massive impact on the people “It is just to continue [with] their bigger interest [over] the economic foreign investment in the region and it will have a massive impact on the dignity, the land, and as well environment and every issue that we are talking about today.”
Although Koman and Yeimo are “most wanted” people by the Indonesian government, they are still consistently active and remarkably risk their lives in campaigning for self-determination for the people of West Papua.
Koman highlighted the result of her advocacy work disseminating information – her life is at risk in Indonesia.
Despite facing this risk, she keeps advocating the issue at international level.
“I have a personal mission. Why I focus on disseminating information on West Papua is because I came from there,” he said.
“I used to be very nationalistic person and it was because I didn’t know anything about West Papua. And I believe that my fellow Indonesians just don’t know what is happening, that is why I think West Papua doesn’t need any propaganda.
“People just need the truth about what happening in West Papua,” she said.
Victor Yeimo and Veronica Koman both said that the solidarity movement to West Papua in Indonesia was growing stronger.
“It is also happening across the world,” Kareni said.
The webinar panel called on the people of Aotearoa New Zealand, people in the Pacific, and others across the world to join the West Papuan solidarity struggle.
This article has been contributed by a postgraduate student journalist from Auckland University of Technology.
November 2 marks 20 years since the first residents arrived on the International Space Station (ISS). The orbiting habitat has been continuously occupied ever since.
Twenty straight years of life in space makes the ISS the ideal “natural laboratory” to understand how societies function beyond Earth.
The ISS is a collaboration between 25 space agencies and organisations. It has hosted 241 crew and a few tourists from 19 countries. This is 43% of all the people who have ever travelled in space.
As future missions to the Moon and Mars are planned, it’s important to know what people need to thrive in remote, dangerous and enclosed environments, where there is no easy way back home.
A brief history of orbital habitats
The fictional ‘Brick Moon’ was constructed from bricks because they are heat-resistant.NASA
The first fictional space station was Edward Everett Hale’s 1869 “Brick Moon”. Inside were 13 spherical living chambers.
In 1929, Hermann Noordung theorised a wheel-shaped space station that would spin to create “artificial” gravity. The spinning wheel was championed by rocket scientist Wernher von Braun in the 1950s and featured in the classic 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Instead of spheres or wheels, real space stations turned out to be cylinders.
The first space station was the USSR’s Salyut 1 in 1971, followed by another six stations in the Salyut programme over the next decade. The USA launched its first space station, Skylab, in 1973. All of these were tube-shaped structures.
In Stanley Kubrick’s 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey, a spinning wheel-like space station creates gravity using centripetal force.
The Soviet station Mir, launched in 1986, was the first to be built with a core to which other modules were added later. Mir was still in orbit when the first modules of the International Space Station were launched in 1998.
Mir was brought down in 2001, and broke up as it plummeted through the atmosphere. What survived likely ended up under 5000 meters of water at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.
The ISS now consists of 16 modules: four Russian, nine US, two Japanese, and one European. It’s the size of a five-bedroom house on the inside, with six regular crew serving for six months at a time.
The fully assembled International Space Station.Roscosomos/NASA
Yuri Gagarin’s voyage around Earth in 1961 proved humans could survive in space. Actually living in space was another matter.
Contemporary space stations don’t spin to provide gravity. There is no up or down. If you let go of an object, it will float away. Everyday activities like drinking or washing require planning.
Spots of “gravity” occur throughout the space station, in the form of hand or footholds, straps, clips, and Velcro dots to secure people and objects.
In the Russian modules, surfaces facing towards Earth (“down”) are coloured olive-green while walls and surfaces facing away from Earth (“up”) are beige. This helps crew to orient themselves.
Colour is important in other ways, too. Skylab, for example, was so lacking in colour that astronauts broke the monotony by staring at the coloured cards used to calibrate their video cameras.
In movies, space stations are often sleek and clean. The reality is vastly different.
The ISS is smelly, noisy, messy, and awash in shed skin cells and crumbs. It’s like a terrible share house, except you can’t leave, you have to work all the time and no-one gets a good night’s sleep.
There are some perks, however. The Cupola module offers perhaps the best view available to humans anywhere: a 180-degree panorama of Earth passing by below.
Astronaut Rick Mastracchio looks towards Earth from the Cupola in 2016.NASA
‘A microsociety in a miniworld’
The crew use all kinds of objects to express their identities in this miniworld, as space habitats were called in a 1972 report. Unused wall space becomes like your refrigerator door, covered with items of personal and group significance.
Oleg Kononenko in the Zvezda module in 2008, showing icons and space heroes pinned on the wall in the background.NASA
Food plays a huge role in bonding. Rituals of sharing food, celebrating holidays and birthdays, help form camaraderie between crew of different national and cultural backgrounds.
It’s not all plain sailing. In 2009, toilets briefly became a source of international conflict when decisions on the ground meant Russian crew were forbidden to use the US toilets and exercise equipment.
In this “microsociety”, technology isn’t only about function. It plays a role in social cohesion.
The future of living in space
The ISS is massively expensive to run. NASA’s costs alone are US$3-4 billion a year, and many argue it’s not worth it. Without more commercial investment, ISS may be de-orbited in 2028 and sent to the ocean floor to join Mir.
The next stage in space-station life is likely to occur in orbit around the Moon. The Lunar Gateway project, planned by a group of space agencies led by NASA, will be smaller than the ISS. Crews will live on board for up to a month at a time.
Its modules, based on the design of the ISS, are due to be launched into lunar orbit in the next decade.
One preliminary habitat design for the Lunar Gateway has four expandable crew cabins, to give people a little more space. But the sleeping, exercise, latrine, and eating areas are all much closer together.
Since ISS crews like to create improvised visual displays, we might suggest including spaces reserved for such displays in next-generation habitats.
In popular culture, the ISS has become Santa’s sleigh. In recent years, parents around the world have taken their children outside on Christmas Eve to spot the ISS passing overhead.
The ISS has shaped the space culture of the 20th and 21st centuries, symbolising international cooperation after the Cold War. It still has much to teach us about how to live in space.
According to a formal measure of language simplicity, United States President Donald Trump’s acceptance speech at this year’s Republican National Convention was far more complex than challenger Joe Biden’s at the Democratic Convention.
While Biden’s speech could be understood by a fifth grader, Trump’s required an eighth-grade level of education.
Surprised? After years of stories about how Trump uses much simpler language than his rivals, you should be.
During the last campaign, we read numerous accounts of how Trump’s language was pitched low — at a child’s level.
Or, as The Boston Globe gleefully proclaimed, his 2015 announcement speech “could have been comprehended by a fourth-grader”. By contrast, the announcement speeches of other candidates, such as Hillary Clinton, Ted Cruz and Marco Rubio scored several grades higher.
Those reports were easily believable to experts. Trump is a right-wing populist and academics have long asserted populist leaders use simple language in order to appear close to the “common people” and distance themselves from linguistically convoluted elites.
But as our new research shows, when you look at a comprehensive sample of populist leaders’ speeches, this is not always the case.
Researching the simplicity of leaders’ language
To investigate whether right-wing populists in different countries really do use simpler language than mainstream ones, we assembled a database of more than one million words. This was made up of speeches by populist leaders and their non-populist opponents in the United States, Italy, France, and the United Kingdom.
Looking at the simplicity of a single text, as the media had done with Trump’s 2015 announcement speech, makes for a good headline, but you need far more than that to make sound judgements about someone’s language.
A detailed analysis showed Donald Trump’s language was only slightly more ‘simple’ than that of his former challenger, Hillary Clinton.Rick T Wilking/AP
For each populist and non-populist leader, we analysed at least 100,000 words (per leader) from their speeches over a given period of time, using an array of measures for evaluating linguistic simplicity.
These included Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level and Readability Tests for English, along with similar scales for Italian and French. Using these measures to assess simplicity is based on the idea that, the greater the presence of shorter words and sentences, the easier a text is to understand.
We also measured lexical density (the number of words conveying meaning), lexical richness (the number of different words), and the presence of words considered difficult in each language.
Our right-wing populists were the most prominent ones from their respective countries over the past decade: Trump, Matteo Salvini (leader of the League, one of Italy’s major parties), Nigel Farage (former leader of the UK Independence Party), and Marine Le Pen (France’s far-right presidential candidate).
The mainstream leaders we used for comparison were their key opponents. For Trump and Le Pen, we chose their principal rivals in the last presidential campaigns, Clinton and French President Emmanuel Macron. In the UK and Italy, we compared Farage and Salvini to the main centre-right and centre-left leaders in those countries during the 2014-2016 period.
Surprising results
Our results were not what we expected.
First, the gap between Trump and Clinton in the 2016 campaign was actually not very wide. Trump’s speeches were pitched at a level comprehensible to a sixth grader, while Clinton’s required a seventh-grade level of education. On our other measures, there was little difference between the two.
In Italy, UK, and France, the results were even more surprising.
In Italy, the college dropout Salvini was only simpler on one of our measures than his opponents, law graduates, Democratic Party leader Matteo Renzi and New Center-Right leader Angelino Alfano.
In the United Kingdom, it was Oxford graduate and Labour Party leader Ed Miliband who came out simplest, not Farage. The main reason for Farage’s greater complexity was the length of his sentences compared to both Miliband and former prime minister and Conservative Party leader, David Cameron. While Miliband’s sentences were on average 13.99 words long, and Cameron’s 15.49, Farage’s were a remarkable 24.61.
Meanwhile, in France, we found Le Pen consistently used much more complex language than the product of France’s elite Ecole Nationale d’Administration, Macron. According to the Kandel and Moles index for assessing the simplicity of French, Le Pen’s speeches were rated “difficult”, while Macron’s were “standard”. Her language was also significantly more complex according to all our other measures.
Why do populist leaders use more complex language?
How do we explain these counterintuitive results?
One possibility is that, since studies have shown the language of mainstream political leaders in countries like the US and Italy has become simpler over time, it could be that the gap between elite and populist language has reduced, thus making claims about greater populist simplicity outdated.
In other words, perhaps mainstream leaders like Clinton and Biden have moved closer to the populist Trump’s level (and sometimes even below).
Another, related, possibility is that, at the same time as mainstream politicians have followed the advice of professional communications advisers and reduced the complexity of their speeches, right-wing populists in some countries have instead chosen to appear less coached and more authentic.
Former leader of the UK’s Independence Party, Nigel Farage used a surprisingly large number of works per sentence.Andy Rain/EPA
For example, Farage’s long rambling sentences make his language more complex, but also add to his “man holding court in the pub” image. Similarly, as a French nationalist who opposes globalisation and its alleged cultural homogenising effects, Le Pen may see an advantage in not imitating English-speaking political language trends that, by contrast, Macron has embraced.
Opting for national rhetorical traditions as opposed to slogan-based communication techniques derived from the US model might thus be useful for right-wing populist leaders in Europe.
Mind the bias
If right-wing populists do not necessarily use simpler language than their mainstream opponents, it begs the question: why were we so easily convinced they do?
Perhaps the answer is many of us like to think right-wing populists speak like fourth graders and their “deplorable” supporters lap it up. It fits our biases to believe populists like Trump are successful because they cynically deliver their message in much simpler language than mainstream politicians like Biden.
Our research shows, however, despite this convenient and even comforting idea, the reality is much more complex.
Tourism in the South Pacific has been hit hard by COVID-19 border closures with thousands of people out of work.
Tourism normally provides one in four jobs in Vanuatu and one in three jobs in Cook Islands. It contributes between 20% and 70% of the GDP of countries spanning from Samoa and Vanuatu to Fiji and Cook Islands.
But our research shows how people are surviving – and in some cases, thriving – in the face of significant loss of income.
This is due in part to their reliance on customary knowledge, systems and practices.
Islands impacted by border closures
The research involved an online survey completed by 106 people, along with interviews in six tourism-dependent locations across five countries.
The Pacific islands used in the research.Shutterstock/Peter Hermes Furian
Research associates based in these countries did interviews in places such as villages next to resorts, or communities that regularly provided cultural tours for cruise ship passengers.
They spoke with former and current tourism workers, community members and business owners who reflected on how they had adapted and what they hoped the future would hold.
Almost 90% of survey respondents lived in households facing significant reductions in income. Owners of tourism-related businesses faced particular financial strain, with 85% of them saying they lost three-quarters or more of their usual income.
But people showed considerable adaptive capacities and resilience in devising a range of strategies to meet their needs in the face of this dramatic loss of earnings.
More than half the respondents were growing food for their families. Many were also fishing. People talked about using the natural abundance of the land and sea to provide food.
Traditional skills: a man fishing in the harbour of Apia, Upolu, Samoa.Shutterstock/Danita Delimont
One person from Rarotonga, part of the Cook Islands, said “no one is going hungry” and this was due to a number of factors:
people had access to customary land on which to grow food
traditional systems meant neighbours, clan members and church communities helped to provide for those who were more vulnerable
there was still sufficient knowledge within communities to teach younger members who had lost jobs how to grow food and fish.
One young man from Samoa, who had lost his job in a hotel, said:
Like our family, everyone else has gone back to the land … I’ve had to relearn skills that have been not been used for years, skills in planting and especially in fishing … I am very happy with the plantation of mixed crops I have now and feeling confident we will be OK moving forward in these times of uncertainty.
Alternative livelihood options
People also engaged in a wide range of initiatives to earn cash, from selling products from their farms (fruit, root crops, other vegetables, cocoa, pigs and chickens) and the sea (a wide range of fish and shellfish) to starting small businesses.
Examples included planting flowers to sell in bunches along the roadside, making doughnuts to take to the market, or offering sewing, yard maintenance or hair-cutting services.
Goods and services were also bartered, rather than exchanged for cash.
Sometimes social groups banded together to encourage one another in activities that earned an income. For example, a youth group near the resort island of Denarau, in Fiji, gained a contract to provide weekly catering for a rugby club.
When times are hard, it’s not all bad
Our study also examined four aspects of well-being: mental, financial, social and physical. Understandably, there was a clear decline in financial well-being. This was sometimes associated with greater stress and conflict within households.
As one Cook Islands man said:
There’s so many people in the house that we’re fighting over who’s going to pay for this, who’s going to pay for that.
But the impacts on social, mental and physical well-being were mixed, with quite a number of people showing improvements.
Many people were effusive in their responses when talking about how they now had more time with family, especially children. This was particularly the case for women who had previously worked long hours in the tourism sector. As one said:
I feel staying (at home) during this pandemic has really helped a lot, especially with my kids. Now everything is in order. The spending of quality time with my family has been excellent and awesome.
Others expressed satisfaction they had more time for meeting religious and cultural obligations. As one said, “everyone is more connected now”, and people had more time to look after others in the community:
Extended family harmony has improved, particularly with checking welfare of others who may need help during this time.
Business owners appreciated the chance to “rest and recharge”. As one Fijian business owner said:
This break has given us a new breath of life. We have since analysed and pondered on what are the most important things in life apart from money. We have strengthened our relationships with friends and family, worked together, laughed and enjoyed each other’s company.
These early research findings suggest customary systems are effectively supporting people’s resilience and well-being in the Pacific. A Pacific ethos of caring, respect, social and ecological custodianship and togetherness has softened the harsh blow of the COVID-19-induced economic slowdown.
As you fire up your computer for a telehealth appointment, or prepare to walk in to see your doctor, you may be wondering whether to record your appointment. You might even think about doing it without asking permission first.
But recording without permission might be illegal depending on where you live, according to our latest research, published today.
And there may be repercussions for you and your health-care professional.
When feeling unwell, or overwhelmed with a new diagnosis, it can be hard to take in and remember important health information your health-care practitioner provides.
Recording your appointments can help. It can help you recall and understand what you discussed. You can also share information about your diagnosis or ongoing care with family and friends.
Many health professionals support the idea of their patients recording their appointments.
In the past few years there has been increasing interest in using digital technology to help people record their health-care consultations.
In Australia, we developed the SecondEars smartphone app at Peter MacCallum Cancer Centre to allow people diagnosed with cancer to record on their phone, with back-up copies sent directly to their health service for storage.
In the United States and Europe, health services and clinics are developing in-house recording software and technology.
Most smartphones also have basic recording software that lets you record with or without asking your health professional. And amid the boom in telehealth due to COVID-19, it’s worth remembering videoconferencing software (such as Zoom) also has built-in recording functions.
What happens if I record?
Imagine you are going to record without telling your doctor, nurse or other health-care professional, or plan on sharing the recording later with other people. What does the law say?
We found this differs in each part of Australia, depending on where you are when you create or share the recording. The law doesn’t differ by the type of recording; audio and video are treated the same.
Before hitting the ‘record’ button, find out if it’s legal in your state or territory.Shutterstock
In some jurisdictions (Victoria, Queensland, NT, NSW, ACT and Tasmania) patients don’t need permission to record their appointment with a doctor, nurse or other health professional if the recording is just for their own use. So, if you want to record to remember what the doctor told you about upcoming surgery or how to take your medicines, you can, even without asking first.
In SA and WA, you usually need the health professional’s consent before recording.
In these states, a person who makes a covert recording for their own use can even face a fine or prison term (for example, in SA, there are fines of up to A$15,000 or prison for up to three years).
Can I share the recording?
Sharing a recording with others — whether this is in person or online — is subject to other rules. The health professional’s consent is sometimes needed for this even if it wasn’t needed for the recording in the first place.
However, in Queensland, Tasmania, NSW, SA and the ACT, as long as the original recording was done within the rules, you don’t need to ask for consent to share it just with family or close friends.
Sharing it more widely is another matter. Only in NSW and SA can you do this without the health professional’s consent (as long as the original recording was lawful).
While the law is messy, we think the overall answer is clear. Even if you don’t need your health professional’s permission to record your consultation, it is best to tell them you want to.
What if I ask and the doctor says ‘no’?
Some health-care professionals and organisations might be concerned you might share recordings on social media, or use them as a basis for a complaint.
The indemnity insurer MIPS tells its doctors that if the idea of recording makes them uncomfortable, they have the option to decline it. But we argue saying “no” to a patient’s reasonable request to record the consultation might harm the doctor-patient relationship, by eroding patient trust and confidence.
If you want to record your medical appointment, it could be worth talking with your doctor about how the recording could help you take better care of your health, and telling them what you intend to do with it.
You could also point out that advice in the United Kingdom suggests recordings can actually support doctors where there are legal disputes.
In one US institution, doctors who let their consultations be recorded get a discount for their indemnity insurance, because of the reduced risk of being sued for malpractice. It makes sense, because when there’s a recording, there is less chance of a disagreement arising over who said what.
Iron out any concerns early
Even if making or sharing a recording doesn’t break the law, doing so without everyone’s knowledge risks harming your relationship with your health-care professional, especially if they find out about it later.
Ultimately, a constructive dialogue between you and your health-care professional should iron out concerns on both sides. While it might feel challenging — and depending on where you are, the law might not require you to — it is usually best to ask for consent, so there are no surprises.
