Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By John Hawkins, Senior Lecturer, Canberra School of Politics, Economics and Society and NATSEM, University of Canberra
The Low and Middle Income Tax Offset (known as the LMITO or “lamington”) has been given yet another new lease of life.
What started in 2018 as a stop-gap until broader tax cuts were introduced, was extended because of COVID after the tax cuts were introduced in the 2020 budget and has now been extended again in 2021 to assist with the COVID recovery.
Which is odd, because, being a delayed payment (it is only paid out as tax refunds after the end of each financial year), it offers anything but real-time support.
And despite its name, it isn’t offered to Australians on very low incomes.
If you earn less than the A$18,200 tax-free threshold, LMITO gives you nothing.
If you earn more than that and up to $37,000 it will cut your tax by up to $255.
The LMITO gradually increases with income until it reaches $1,080 for taxable incomes between $48,000 and $90,000.
Beyond $90,000 it starts falling and cuts out entirely for taxable income over $126,000.
The quick fix that came to stay
It was introduced by the Government in the 2018 budget as a temporary measure until the ‘stage 2’ tax cuts came in from 2022. In the 2020 budget the Government brought forward the ‘stage 2’ tax cuts. This meant the LMITO was no longer needed for its original purpose, but the Government extended it for a year.
In the budget, the treasurer labelled the extension a “new and additional tax cut”.
Others might see it as continuing to escape a tax increase.
The extended LMITO will be received by about 10 million taxpayers from July 1 2021 after they lodge their tax returns. The extension will cost $7.8 billion.
This cost makes it one of the more expensive decisions announced in the budget, and — especially if it gets extended again, it will as good as destroy the promise in earlier budgets of a simpler, flatter tax schedule.
Here’s what it does to tax
The LMITO (and its sibling, the longstanding Low Income Tax Offset) make the tax schedule more complicated.
Ignoring them, there are four marginal tax rates, soon to be three after the Morrison government’s stage three tax cuts are introduced.
Including them, as this graph prepared by Steven Hamilton for The Conversation in 2019 shows, there are many more marginal rates which fall and rise and fall and rise again.
Our calculations using the National Centre for Social and Economic Modelling’s STINMOD+ model suggest the LMITO could be more accurately called the “medium and high income tax offset”.
In the following charts the ‘“Q1” columns refer to the poorest fifth of households and “Q5” to the fifth with the highest incomes.
The largest benefits from LMITO accrue to households in the middle.
The impact of LMITO is very small compared to the planned stage three cuts, due to arrive in 2024-25.
Our graph drawn on the same scale shows they are extraordinarily highly skewed towards high income earners.
Treasurer Josh Frydenberg called the LMITO extension “a stimulus measure that will support the recovery”. But it is astoundingly poorly suited for this purpose.
Timely stimulus deferred
The extra year of LMITO won’t be paid until July 2022, at the earliest, depending on when people submit their 2021-22 tax returns.
By then the economy ought to be well over a year out of recession.
Worse still, in the view of economists including Nobel winner Richard Thaler, lump-sum payments such as LMITO are more likely to be saved than would be cuts in ongoing tax that lifted fortnightly pay.
A much better stimulus would have been to have kept in place the boost to JobSeeker payments delivered by the coronavirus supplement and removed at the end of March this year. Almost all of the people on it spent it.
Extending LMITO enables the treasurer to escape the political opprobrium that would come from being seen to increase middle class taxes.
But it runs the risk of making permanent a poorly-designed stop-gap that neither delivers money to the people who need it most nor delivers economic stimulus when it is needed.
If asked where meteorites come from, you might reply “from comets”. But according to our new research, which tracked hundreds of fireballs on their journey through the Australian skies, you would be wrong.
In fact, it is very likely that all meteorites — space rocks that make it all the way to Earth — come not from icy comets but from rocky asteroids. Our new study found that even those meteorites with trajectories that look like they arrived from much farther afield are in fact from asteroids that simply got knocked into strange orbits.
We searched through six years’ worth of records from the Desert Fireball Network, which scans the Australian outback for flaming meteors streaking through the sky. None of what we found came from comets.
That means that of the tens of thousands of meteorites in collections around the world, likely none are from comets, leaving a significant gap in our understanding of the Solar System.
When the Solar System formed, more than 4.5 billion years ago, a disc of dust and debris was swirling around the Sun.
Over time, this material clumped together, forming larger and larger bodies — some so large they swept up everything else in their orbit, and became planets.
Yet some debris avoided this fate and is still floating around today. Scientists traditionally classify these objects into two groups: comets and asteroids.
Asteroids are rockier and drier, because they were formed in the inner Solar System. Comets, meanwhile, formed further out, where ices such as frozen water, methane or carbon dioxide can remain stable — giving them a “dirty snowball” composition.
The best way to understand the origin and evolution of our Solar System is to study these objects. Many space missions have been sent to comets and asteroids over the past few decades. But these are expensive, and only two (Hayabusa and Hayabusa2) have successfully brought back samples.
Another way to study this material is to sit and wait for it to come to us. If a piece of debris happens to cross paths with Earth, and is large and robust enough to survive hitting our atmosphere, it will land as a meteorite.
Most of what we know about the Solar System’s history comes from these curious space rocks. However, unlike space mission samples, we don’t know exactly where they originated.
Meteorites have been curiosities for centuries, yet it was not until the early 19th century that they were identified as extraterrestrial. They were speculated to come from lunar volcanoes, or even from other star systems.
Today, we know all meteorites come from small bodies in our Solar System. But the big question that remains is: are they all from asteroids, or do some come from comets?
In total, scientists around the world have collected more than 60,000 meteorites, mostly from desert regions such as Antarctica or Australia’s Nullarbor Plain.
But might some of them have come not from asteroids, but from comets that originated in the outer reaches of the Solar System? What would such meteorites be like, and how would we find them?
Fireball observatory operated by the Desert Fireball Network in South Australia.
Fortunately, we can actively look for meteorites, rather than hoping to stumble across one lying on the ground. When a space rock is falling through the atmosphere (at this stage, it’s known as a meteor), it begins to heat up and glow — hence why meteors are nicknamed “shooting stars”.
Larger meteors (at least tens of centimetres across) glow brightly enough to be termed “fireballs”. And by training cameras on the sky to spot them, we can track and recover any resulting meteorites.
The network’s data has resulted in the recovery of six meteorites in Australia, and two more internationally. What’s more, by tracking a fireball’s flight through the atmosphere, we can not only project its path forwards to find where it landed, but also backwards to find out what orbit it was on before it got here.
Orbital data of debris in the inner Solar System detected by the Desert Fireball Network between 2014-2020.
Our research, published in The Planetary Science Journal, scoured every fireball tracked by the DFN between 2014 and 2020, in search of possible cometary meteorites. In total, there were 50 fireballs that came from comet-like orbits not associated with a meteor shower.
Unexpectedly, despite the fact that just under 4% of the larger debris was from comet-like orbits, none of the material featured the hallmark “dirty snowball” chemical composition of true cometary material.
A meteorite fragment recently found in the Cotswolds town of Winchcombe. Researchers at Curtin University worked with collaborators in the UK to help recover this rare carbonaceous meteorite.
We concluded that debris from comets breaks up and disintegrates before it even gets close to becoming a meteorite. In turn, this means cometary meteorites are not represented among the tens of thousands of objects in the world’s meteorite collections.
The next question is: if all meteorites are asteroidal, how did some of them end up in such weird, comet-like orbits?
For this to be possible, debris from the main asteroid belt must have been knocked from its original orbit by a collision, close gravitational encounter, or some other mechanism.
Meteorites have given us our most profound insights into the formation and evolution of our solar system. However, it is now clear that these samples represent only part of the whole picture. It is definitely an argument for a sample-return mission to a comet. It’s also testament to the knowledge we can gain from tracking fireballs and the meteorites they sometimes leave behind.
Religion and politics have long been uneasy bedfellows, especially in largely secular societies like Australia. But since September 11 and the sudden focus on Islam in Western politics, it has taken a far more prominent role.
In the past decade, we have seen how conservative evangelicals in the US took over the Republican Party, which led to the election of Donald Trump.
In Australia, we have witnessed a palpable anxiety about the encroachment of religion into politics. For instance, there was an outcry (even by Anglicans) when Sydney Anglicans awarded A$1 million to a campaign against the marriage equality referendum.
Prime Minister Scott Morrison’s open adherence to Pentecostalism has also been a source of unease. After his first invitation to the media to film him attending service at Horizon Church during the election campaign in April 2019 and his subsequent election, numerous media articles and interviews with specialists have asked whether his religious affiliation influenced his decisions.
His most recent claim that he had been called to do “God’s work” just added to the general unease. After all, Australia is a modern secular liberal democracy, where many citizens are not religious and numerous other religions coexist with Christianity. He is supposed to be governing for all of us.
Scott Morrison’s faith, highlighted by this photo taken during the 2019 election campaign, has been at the centre of much commentary during his time in office.Mick Tsikas/AAP
No religion does not mean anti-religion
In his The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism (1905), Max Weber was interested in the “elective affinities” between Protestantism and capitalism. He argued Protestant traits such as puritanism, this-worldly asceticism, a strong work ethic and a focus on the afterlife went hand in hand with the expansion of capitalism.
In the 1960s, social scientists argued that, as societies became modern and industrialised, they would become secular, with science replacing religion as a way of explaining the world.
However, research does not bear out the idea that Australians are becoming less religious. Since the 1990s, many social scientists have rejected secularisation theory by arguing that it was a myth or a matter of “wishful thinking” and never consistent with reality. Indeed, although the number of people ticking “no religion” in censuses in the Western world is increasing, that doesn’t mean people are atheists, just that there has been a decline in institutionalised religion.
Research has shown that, more often than not, these “nones” assert they are “spiritual”. That is, they believe (in God, spirits, angels and so forth) but do not belong to an organised religion.
The idea Australians are becoming less religious is not borne out by research.Stephen Saphore/AAP
In Australia, 30% of people ticked no religion in the last census. But research with young people found 18% were spiritual but not religious, 8% were seekers, 17% were religiously committed, 20% were nominally religious, 15% were indifferent, and 23% were this-worldly. The authors concluded:
While only a minority follow a faith with strong conviction, as a whole they are not anti-religious.
The modern project – with its secular institutions and secular forms of authority – has been increasingly challenged by a growing number of communities that place God and spiritual forces as final authorities in the ways governments should design policies and laws, and how we should lead our lives. For Pentecostals, for example, there is a divine purpose acting in the world, as God is present and intervenes in everyday events.
One only has to look at the growth of conspiracy theories and the anti-vax movement, particularly during the COVID-19 pandemic, and the ways in which the wellness movement merged with conspiracy theories in a phenomenon called “conspirituality” to see that science is being challenged by magical, spiritual and religious beliefs.
Pentecostal churches, especially, blur the boundaries between the public and private spheres. Hillsong, the megachurch I have been researching for the best part of a decade, is at the forefront of this phenomenon due to its intense use of digital and social media (where it has millions of followers), its engagement with contemporary celebrity and youth cultures in music and fashion, and with every sphere of life through its church programs.
As many social scientists have argued, including anthropologist Jean Comaroff, “while faith has never been entirely absent from politics anywhere in the world, we have entered a ‘post-secular’ moment”. By this, she meant that religion plays a role in many areas which were thought of as thoroughly secular, such as economic development, diplomacy and welfare services.
In Australia, the government has delegated the provision of the majority of its welfare services to Christian faith-based organisations, more so since 2010.
Most of these are from mainstream Christian churches (Uniting, Anglican, Baptist, the Salvation Army and Catholic). For instance, faith-based organisations are responsible for refugees when they are released from detention and into Australian communities. They provide housing, employment, English-language classes and a host of other services.
Pentecostal churches have also started engaging with government for the provision of services. For instance, as the Australian government defunded refuges for women fleeing domestic violence, Hillsong has set up “homes of peace” among other programs for women and children.
However, governments’ delegation of their welfare programs to faith-based organisations is problematic. Anthropologists Brian Hennigan and Gretchen Purser researched a faith-based job-readiness program in the US. They found there was a contradictory logic operating within the project, which they called “evangelizing employability”. The program had to reconcile its two ideological projects: “entrepreneurial independence and righteous dependence on God”.
Religion never went away – and that’s unlikely to change
Where does all this leave us? We can say the idea of the secular was more of a historically produced ideal than a reality. Religion never went away.
It is true different nations have different configurations for the place and influence of religion. However, we need to acknowledge that in our societies there are people with different orientations – religious, spiritual, non-religious and everything in between. As political scientist William Connolly has argued, secularists need to acknowledge the ubiquity of faith so they can negotiate with these different orientations instead of claiming they work in a neutral space.
After all, politics is not separate from other spheres of life and that includes religion.
Over the past few years, controversy has surrounded the World Athletics ruling that female hyperandrogenic athletes — female athletes with naturally high levels of testosterone — are banned from competing in certain track events.
The controversy is perhaps best exemplified by the case of South African runner Caster Semenya.
This rule is based on the hypothesis that total testosterone levels directly determine athletic performance in females. But our new research challenges this assumption.
Testosterone is the major androgenic (male) hormone and one of the most common doping agents. Athletes who participate in strength and power-based sports, including bodybuilding, athletics, wrestling and cycling, have used testosterone for decades for its muscle-building properties.
Contemporary anti-doping tests can detect and distinguish between the presence of pharmaceutical (“exogenous”) testosterone and natural (“endogenous”) testosterone with a high level of certainty. The presence of exogenous testosterone is essential to return a positive result.
However, some people, males and females, present with high levels of natural testosterone without having ever taken androgenic hormones. These people are “hyperandrogenic”.
Testosterone acts on muscle cells by binding to a specific receptor protein called the androgen receptor.Anastase Maragos/Unsplash
Male athletes with naturally occurring high testosterone levels can compete normally. In contrast, female hyperandrogenic athletes are at the centre of a controversy of sporting regulations.
Because their natural blood testosterone concentrations are above an arbitrary threshold of five nanomoles of testosterone per litre (nmol/L), hyperandrogenic females are banned from competing in a series of World Athletics events ranging from 400m to the mile.
They can only compete if they choose to take anti-androgen drugs to reduce their testosterone levels.
How does testosterone enhance performance?
Testosterone acts on muscle cells by binding to a specific receptor protein, the androgen receptor. Upon testosterone binding, the androgen receptor signals to the muscle cell to activate the pathways that trigger an increase in muscle mass, called muscle hypertrophy. As a result, the muscle grows and becomes stronger.
But let’s look at what happens when testosterone can’t perform its job in the muscle. “Androgen receptor knockout mice” are genetically modified mice that do not produce this receptor. When compared to normal male mice, male androgen receptor knockout mice lose up to 20% of their muscle mass and strength. This makes sense since testosterone doesn’t have a receptor to bind to anymore.
Surprisingly though, this doesn’t happen in female mice. Female androgen receptor knockout mice are as strong and muscular as their control counterparts. This suggests testosterone may not be necessary to reach peak muscle mass and strength in females.
Our new human data align with this hypothesis. We used a large, publicly available database and showed total testosterone levels were not associated with muscle mass or strength in 716 pre-menopausal females.
This is in contrast to males, where higher testosterone concentrations are associated with increased muscle mass and strength.
We’re also doing experimental research on this topic. We’ve recruited 14 young female volunteers with natural testosterone levels along a spectrum from low to hyperandrogenic.
Although this part of our research is not yet published in a peer-reviewed journal, our results so far appear to confirm the findings from the epidemiological data. We’ve found testosterone levels don’t correlate with thigh muscle size, strength and power even after 12 weeks of resistance training aimed at maximising muscle mass and building strength.
Our laboratory-based study allows us to tightly control for external factors that may influence muscle mass and strength, such as diet, sleep, training status and menstrual cycle.
Why mightn’t testosterone enhance athletic performance in females?
Previous research suggests the female sex hormones oestrogen and progesterone may take over some of the muscle-building role of testosterone in young females.
Another important consideration is natural testosterone exists in two forms: “free” within the bloodstream, or “bound” to a protein that reduces its capacity to signal to the muscle. Our research suggests “free” testosterone has the greater role in regulating female muscle mass and performance.
Unfortunately, the current World Athletics rules are based on the total testosterone pool (the sum of “free” and “bound” testosterone).
We found higher natural testosterone levels weren’t associated with increased muscle mass or strength in more than 700 pre-menopausal females.Shutterstock
A limitation of our studies is most of our participants would not be classified as hyperandrogenic according to World Athletics. Past a certain threshold, testosterone may have a different effect on female muscle physiology.
A recent study tested this hypothesis by administering pharmaceutical testosterone to females to approach the 5nmol/L threshold. After ten weeks of this treatment, the authors found the volunteers receiving testosterone had gained more muscle mass and could run for longer on a treadmill before becoming exhausted compared to the volunteers who didn’t receive testosterone.
Surprisingly though, there was no between-group difference in muscle power, muscle strength, explosive power (sprinting) and the maximum rate of oxygen consumption measured during exercise, which is the best indicator of cardiorespiratory fitness.
All these parameters are important for short- and middle-distance track events. These findings support our hypothesis that total testosterone isn’t a direct determinant of muscle strength and performance in females, and reiterates the need to challenge the World Athletics rules.
What now?
Our research is important as it fights for the right of a cohort of naturally gifted female athletes to compete in their chosen athletics events, despite their naturally high testosterone levels.
By challenging the current assumption that “the more the better”, we hope our project will provide the building blocks for new regulations aimed at treating hyperandrogenic athletes more fairly.
In caves on the Indonesian island of Sulawesi, ancient peoples marked the walls with red and mulberry hand stencils, and painted images of large native mammals or imaginary human-animal creatures.
These are the oldest cave art sites yet known — or at least the oldest attributed to our species. One painting of a Sulawesi warty pig was recently dated as at least 45,500 years old.
Since the 1950s, archaeologists have observed these paintings appear to be blistering and peeling off the cave walls. Yet, little had been done to understand why.
So our research, published today, explored the mechanisms of decay affecting ancient rock art panels at 11 sites in Sulawesi’s Maros-Pangkep region. We found the deterioration may have gotten worse in recent decades, a trend likely to continue with accelerating climate change.
These Pleistocene (“ice aged”) cave paintings of Indonesia have only begun to tell us about the lives of the earliest people who lived in Australasia. The art is disappearing just as we’re beginning to understand its significance.
Australasia’s rock art
Rock art gives us a glimpse into the ancient cultural worlds of the artists and the animals they may have hunted or interacted with. Even rare clues into early people’s beliefs in the supernatural have been preserved.
Climate change could erase ancient Indonesian cave art.
We think humans have been creating art of some kind in Australasia — which includes northern Australia, Papua New Guinea and Indonesia — for a very long time. Used pigments are among the earliest evidence people were living in Australia more than 60,000 years ago.
Tens of thousands of distinctive rock art sites are scattered across Australasia, with Aboriginal people creating many styles of rock art across Australia.
Until as recently as 2014, scholars thought the earliest cave art was in Europe — for example, in the Chauvet Cave in France or El Castillo in Spain, which are 30,000 to 40,000 years old. We now know people were painting inside caves and rockshelters in Indonesia at the same time and even earlier.
Hand stencils in one of the study sites at Leang Sakapao cave.Linda Siagian, Author provided
Ongoing surveys throughout Australasia turn up new rock art sites every year. To date, more than 300 painted sites have been documented in the limestone karsts of Maros-Pangkep, in southern Sulawesi.
Cave paintings in Sulawesi and Borneo are some of the earliest evidence we have that people were living on these islands.
Tragically, at almost every new site we find in this region, the rock art is in an advanced stage of decay.
Big impacts from small crystals
To investigate why these prehistoric artworks are deteriorating, we studied some of the oldest known rock art from the Maros-Pangkep region, scientifically dated to between at least 20,000 and 40,000 years old.
Expanding and contracting salt crystals are causing rock art to flake off the cave walls.Linda Siagian, Author provided
Given these artworks have survived over such a vast period, we wanted to understand why the painted limestone cave surfaces now appear to be eroding so rapidly.
We used a combination of scientific techniques, including using high-powered microscopes, chemical analyses and crystal identification to tackle the problem. This revealed that salts growing both on top of and behind ancient rock art can cause it to flake away.
Salts are deposited on rock surfaces via the water they’re absorbed in. When the water solution evaporates, salt crystals form. The salt crystals then swell and shrink as the environment heats and cools, generating stress in the rock.
In some cases, the result is the stone surface crumbling into a powder. In other instances, salt crystals form columns under the hard outer shell of the old limestone, lifting the art panel and separating it from the rest of the rock, obliterating the art.
On hot days, geological salts can grow to more than three times their initial size. On one panel, for example, a flake half the size of a hand peeled off in under five months.
Climate extremes under global warming
Australasia has an incredibly active atmosphere, fed by intense sea currents, seasonal trade winds and a reservoir of warm ocean water. Yet, some of its rock art has so far managed to survive tens of thousands of years through major episodes of climate variation, from the cold of the last ice age to the start of the current monsoon.
Limestone karsts of Maros and Pangkep Regencies, in South Sulawesi, Indonesia.Shutterstock
In contrast, famous European cave art sites such as Altamira in Spain and Lascaux in France are found in deep caves, in more stable (temperate) climates, so threats to rock art are different and generally weathering is less aggressive.
But now greenhouse gases are magnifying climatic extremes. In fact, global warming can be up to three times higher in the tropics, and the wet-dry phases of the monsoon have become stronger in recent decades, along with more numerous La Niña and El Niño events.
The net effect is that temperatures are higher, there are more hot days in a row, droughts are lasting longer, and other extreme weather such as storms (and the flooding they cause) are more severe and frequent.
What’s more, monsoonal rains are now captured in rice fields and aquaculture ponds. This promotes the growth of art-destroying salt crystals by raising humidity across the region and especially in nearby caves, prolonging the shrink and swell cycles of salts.
Makassar’s culture heritage department, Balai Pelestarian Cagar Budaya, undertaking rock art monitoring in Maros-Pangkep.Rustan Lebe/Griffith University, Author provided
What happens now?
Apart from the direct threats associated with industrial development — such as blasting away archaeological sites for mining and limestone quarrying — our research makes it clear global warming is the biggest threat to the preservation of the trpoics’ ancient rock art.
There’s a pressing need for further research, monitoring and conservation work in Maros-Pangkep and across Australasia, where cultural heritage sites are under threat from the destructive impacts of climate change.
In particular, we urgently need to document the remaining rock art in great detail (such as with 3D scanning) and uncover more sites before this art disappears forever.
If humans are ultimately causing this problem, we can take steps to correct it. Most importantly, we need to act now to stop global temperature increases and drastically cut emissions. Minimising the impacts of climate change will help preserve the incredible artworks Australasia’s earliest people left to us.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Samuel Alexander, Research fellow, Melbourne Sustainable Society Institute, The University of Melbourne
According to The Parable of the Poisoned Well, there once lived a king who ruled over a great city. He was loved for his wisdom and feared for his power. At the heart of the city was a well, the waters of which were clean and pure and from where the king and all the inhabitants drank. But one evening an enemy entered the city and poisoned the well with a strange liquid. Henceforth, all who drank from it went mad.
All the people drank the water, but not the king, for he had been warned by a watchman who had observed the contamination. The people began to say, “The king is mad and has lost his reason. Look how strangely he behaves. We cannot be ruled by a madman, so he must be dethroned”.
The king sensed his subjects were preparing to rise against him and grew fearful of revolution. One evening he ordered a royal goblet to be filled from the well and drank from it deeply. The next day there was great rejoicing among the people, for their beloved king had finally regained his wisdom and sanity.
According to Fromm, we are inclined to see incidents of mental illness as individual and isolated disturbances, while acknowledging — with some discomfort, perhaps — that so many of these incidents should occur in a culture that is supposedly sane. Fromm haunts our self-image even today, attempting to unsettle these assumptions of sanity:
Can we be so sure that we are not deceiving ourselves? Many an inmate of an insane asylum is convinced that everybody else is crazy, except himself.
In an age now widely described as the Anthropocene, the conventionally held distinction between sanity and insanity is at risk of collapsing … and taking our civilisation with it.
At least since Michel Foucault’s Madness and Civilization (1961), it has been understood that the idea of (in)sanity is an evolving, socially constructed category. Not only does the medical validity of mental health diagnoses and treatments shift with the times, but what has been judged “sane” in one era has the potential to blur into what is not in another — and without announcement.
This can disguise the fact that social practices or patterns of thought that may once have been considered healthy may now be properly diagnosed as unhealthy. And while this can apply to individual cases, there is no reason to think it should not also apply more broadly to a society at large. A society might go insane without being aware of its own degeneration.
One does not need to be a conspiracy theorist to recognise, with Foucault, that power shapes knowledge. If profits and economic growth are the benchmarks of success in a society, it simply may not be profitable to expose a society as insane, and even members of an insane society may sooner choose wilful blindness than look too deeply into the subconscious of their own culture.
How can we be so sure of our own sanity, asked psychoanalyst Erich Fromm, pictured in 1974.Wikimedia Commons
If our society is not sane — and I find myself pointing towards this thesis — another question follows: what might sanity look like in an insane world?
I come to these questions without mental health training or expertise, but simply as an ordinary member of late-stage capitalist society, one suffering in his own way and trying to understand the mental health burdens that accompany our ecocidal and grossly inequitable mode of civilisation. I make no comment on the very real biophysical causes for mental illness, such as chemical imbalances or physical injury.
Instead, I reflect, at a “macro” level, on the sanity or insanity of the dominant culture and political economy in contemporary capitalist societies such as Australia, asking how the world “out there” can impact the inner dimension of our lives.
Following Fromm’s lead, I inquire not so much into individual pathology, but into what he calls “collective neuroses” and “the pathology of normalcy”. Of course, collective neuroses are not easily observed, for they are, by nature, the background fabric of existence and so easily missed.
At first, I tried to distil a positive life lesson from the Parable of the Poisoned Well, but I quickly realised this was the wrong way to approach it.
There is arguably no moral guidance in the fable, only an amoral social insight. If there is a lesson, it is that sometimes it is easier or safer simply to conform to common assumptions or practices, no matter how dubious or absurd they are, to avoid being socially ostracised. If you do not go with the flow you may be deemed mad, so it may be better just to blend in and drink the Kool-Aid.
A second reading of the parable points to the relativity of notions of sanity, again suggesting that what’s sane or insane isn’t fixed, but is culturally dependent: a person is sane if they “function” well enough in the society, even if that society is sick.
It is this relativity of sanity that Fromm calls into question in The Sane Society. “The fact that millions of people share the same vices,” he wrote, “does not make these vices virtues, the fact that they share so many errors does not make the errors to be truths, and the fact that millions of people share the same forms of mental pathology does not make these people sane.”
He felt that society needed certain objective conditions to be sane, including environmental sustainability. If too many of humankind’s most basic needs were not being met despite unprecedented capacity, he felt it would be proper to declare a society sick, even if the behaviour producing the sickness was widespread and validated by its own internal cultural logic.
What is “normal” behaviour today? The climate emergency points to our fatal addiction to fossil fuels. We know their combustion is killing the planet, but we can’t help ourselves. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change was established in 1988 to advise us on the science of climate change, yet here we are, more than 30 years later, and carbon emissions continue to rise (excepting only the years of financial crisis or pandemic). We emit 37 gigatons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere each year, in full knowledge of their impacts.
In 2019, fossil fuels supplied around 85 per cent of global primary energy demand. Driven by a fetish for economic growth, voters support politicians who bring lumps of coal into a parliament for a laugh and enthusiastically build new fossil fuel power stations. It is a tragedy disguised as a grim joke.
Scientists warn that current trajectories of climate heating are not compatible with civilisation as we know it, with potentially billions of lives at risk this century, both human and non-human. You know something is wrong when the Arctic is burning. And yet nothing is more “normal” than hopping into a fossil-fuelled car or consuming products shipped around the world to satisfy the carboniferous desires of affluent society.
NASA images showed wildfires burning across 11 regions of Russia amid a hot, dry summer in July 2019.EPA/NASA
We’re deforesting the planet and destroying topsoil to feed a population that is growing by over 200,000 people every day. The United Nations projects we’ll have reached almost ten billion people by mid-century.
This human dominance of the planet under global capitalism is contributing to a holocaust of biodiversity loss, with the World Wildlife Fund recently reporting that populations of vertebrate species have declined by 68 per cent since 1970. We are living through the sixth mass extinction, driven by human economic activity that is not just normal but encouraged, rewarded and widely admired.
Empire marches on like a snake eating its own tail, pursuing growth for growth’s sake — the ideology of a cancer cell.
For whom, then, do we destroy the planet? Is a greater abundance of “nice things” what we are lacking in the overdeveloped world? Or is there, as historian and philosopher Lewis Mumford once opined, an inner dimension to our crises that must be resolved before the outer crises can be effectively met?
How easy it is to live life regurgitating the prewritten script of advanced industrial society: cogs in a vast machine, easily replaced. Perhaps we see our disenchantment reflected in the eyes of those tired, alienated commuters, a class into which it is so easy to fall simply by virtue of being subjects of the capitalist order. We all know that there is more to life than this.
We find ourselves living in an age where the old dogmas of growth, material affluence and technology are increasingly exposed as false idols. Like a fleet of ships that has been unmoored in a storm, our species is drifting in dangerous seas without a clear sense of direction.
Where are the new sources of meaning and guidance that all societies need to fight off the ennui? Pioneering sociologist Émile Durkheim used the term “anomie” to refer to a condition in which a culture’s traditional norms have broken down without new norms arising that can give sense to a changing world. Perhaps this is the term that best explains our existential condition today.
One could go on, but it would be perverse to do so. “Doom porn” is not my business or purpose. But there is a case for diagnosing our society as insane — not as rhetorical strategy, but in the pursuit of literal truth.
If an individual knowingly destroyed the conditions of his or her own existence, we’d question their sanity. If a mother only fed her children if she could make a profit, we’d doubt the soundness of her mind. If a father took all the household wealth and left the rest of the family in destitution while building bombs in the basement that could destroy the neighbourhood, we’d call him psychopathic.
And yet these are characteristics of our society as a whole. Fromm would not permit us to diagnose ourselves and our society as sane just because the actions that produce the features outlined above are considered “normal”. There is a pathology to our normalcy — my own regrettably included — and this pathology is no less pathological just because it is shared by millions upon millions of people.
‘A sane person in an insane society must appear insane.’ Kurt Vonnegut.Shutterstock
There are negative mental health effects that might naturally and justifiably arise when otherwise sane people find themselves living in an insane world. The paradox that threatens to emerge has already been variously noted.
In Welcome to the Monkey House, Kurt Vonnegut Jnr writes, “a sane person in an insane society must appear insane”. Thomas Stephen Szasz contends: “Insanity is the only sane reaction to an insane society”. And the British psychiatrist R. D. Laing said insanity was “a perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world”. I think I recall Star Trek’s Dr Spock saying something similar.
How can we not get depressed when reading the newspapers today or watching our politicians go about their business with such confident incompetence? How can we not grieve the wildlife and natural habitat being destroyed each moment? What parent can look to the future and not feel a foreboding dread at what world their children and grandchildren will inherit?
At the same time, and because of that dread, it is hard to maintain the emotional resources to care for strangers or “join a movement” when stress, agitation, worry and busyness clutter our mental lives. This can make society seem like a harsh place, lacking in generosity of spirit or compassion.
Whether it’s from watching white supremacists march or listening to climate deniers speak from platforms in parliament and mass media, a nausea sets in, a sickness not so much of the mind but of the soul.
This is an existential diagnosis, not a medical or psychiatric one. It would be wrong to make peace with this madness. The world we live in should not be treated as normal, and it should not be a sign of good health to become “well adjusted” to a society that is casually practising ecocide, celebrating narcissism, institutionalising racism and assessing the value of all things according to the cold logic of profit maximisation.
We must not assume behaviour that makes an individual “functional” within a sick society is sufficient evidence of their sanity. In such a society, it is okay not to feel okay, to cry and feel grief, to feel dread and alienation. In our tears, let us find solidarity, for we are not alone.
Remember this when you wake up prematurely in the morning with an anxiety without object, or as you stare at the ceiling late at night as you try to fall asleep. You are not losing your mind. It is precisely because you have a grip on reality that reality seems so out of whack.
On my third reading of the Parable of the Poisoned Well, I noticed something I had missed — it was the watchman, the man who warned the king not to drink the poisoned water the rest of the citizenry had already consumed.
Wanting to quash the revolutionary sentiment, the king succumbed to public pressure and eventually drank from the well in order to fit in. But what about the watchman? Is it possible he never drank the poisoned water and remained sane in an insane society? Did that made him seem mad?
Perhaps my thoughts here are those of a watchman, someone who has tried not to drink the Kool-Aid, who has attempted to resist the pathology of normalcy.
Admittedly, I have questioned my own sanity at times — when, for example, I’ve found myself dancing in the middle of a busy intersection with Extinction Rebellion, risking arrest. What had driven me to act in a way that sees me surrounded by police with batons, guns and pepper spray? They sure looked mad.
Call me crazy, but I’ll finish with the words often attributed to Friedrich Nietzsche: “Those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music”.
It was a small thing but a revealing moment during Scott Morrison’s Wednesday interview on Nine’s Today show.
Presenter Karl Stefanovic noticed Morrison seemed out of sorts, despite the government having delivered the night before a benign budget that was well received and likely to be popular.
“It is a very big budget. Josh Frydenberg had a very big smile on his face this morning. I thought you might be happier this morning, PM. Everything OK?” Stefanovic asked.
Morrison said he was “fine”. He went on: “I’ve got to tell you, Karl, the reason is this.
“I know, look, budgets are big events and that’s all fine, but I just know the fight we’re in – and the fight we’re in, and me as prime minister I’m in, is to be protecting Australians at this incredibly difficult time.
“I am very cognisant of how big those challenges are. It is with me every second of every day.”
First, the government is using the budget to talk up the current threat of the pandemic to an extent it hadn’t been recently.
Morrison, in particular, had previously been anxious to emphasise the return to as much normality as possible. Now it’s more about lurking dangers.
These provide a justification for the government’s mega spending in the budget. (“Did anyone miss out? Perhaps only the beekeepers of Australia,” quipped one cynical Liberal backbencher.)
The language also indicates Morrison wants to do what state and territory leaders have done – use the pandemic to pave the path to electoral victory.
The other point highlighted by the Today exchange is that Morrison was looking somewhat ragged.
This was accentuated by the contrast with Treasurer Josh Frydenberg who, on the face of it, would have been under the greater stress.
Frydenberg’s performances in the week of his third budget were smooth and, whatever nerves he felt, he appeared unfazed.
The week reinforced the impression he is in the box seat eventually to reach the prime ministership (assuming the Coalition lasts in government).
Pre-budget, he and wife Amie were out for the cameras on a Sunday charity run in Canberra. Post-budget, his staff rang around backbenchers to ask if they’d like a picture with the treasurer.
In question time, Morrison found old problems returning to irritate him. He was pressed on the two internal inquiries into who in his office knew or did what in relation to the Brittany Higgins matter, and he had to say neither was concluded (one had been on hold before this week while the police dealt with their investigation of her rape allegation). Whatever the results of these inquiries, Morrison needs to get them cleared away as soon as possible. They are “barnacles”.
Morrison has been travelling a lot recently and may be tired (although those around him say he’s energised by being on the road). Or he may not be used to sharing the limelight. Or the endless round of everything may be just taking its toll.
Then there’s the challenge of explaining this Labor-lite budget to the hardliners in the Liberal base and among the right-wing commentariat.
The budget has made the opposition’s already formidable task of carving out room for itself more difficult, but it is also proving a hard swallow for those rusted on to the Coalition’s old “debt and deficit” preoccupation.
Many of these critics will be reluctant to buy the proposition the big spending must continue because the pandemic is a constant threat, given they’ve thought the threat was exaggerated in the first place.
The government could attempt to deal with these critics by saying it will “snap back” into tackling debt and deficit as quickly as possible.
But facing an election soon, it doesn’t want to do this, for obvious reasons.
In the budget the timing of the next stage, fiscal consolidation, is imprecise.
The budget papers say: “Progress on the economic recovery will be reviewed at each Budget update. This phase of the Strategy will remain in place until the economic recovery is secure and the unemployment rate is back to pre-crisis levels or lower.”
While some commentary is focused on how the Coalition has done a dramatic U-turn from its old debt-and-deficit rhetoric, there’s an opportunity for Labor to run a major scare campaign claiming it’s not a U-turn at all – that the debt truck is just in the parking lot.
Remember, it can say, when Tony Abbott promised no cuts to health, education and even the ABC – and recall what happened. This time, so the argument runs, cuts and savings will be Coalition priorities again as soon as it has secured the votes.
Morrison and Frydenberg this week have been invoking John Howard’s advice, given to Frydenberg in the early days of the pandemic, that “in times of crisis there are no ideological constraints”.
The question is whether the Liberals have softened their ideology, or just put it in storage during the crisis.
While there can be no definite answer, Tim Colebatch, writing in Inside Story. makes a strong case that the Coalition “won’t dump its political tactic of branding itself as the ‘fiscally responsible’ party and Labor as the party standing for deficits. This [budget] is a short-term tack that will be reversed after the election.
“Of course no government promising $503 billion of deficits in five years can be called fiscally responsible, so it will make cuts then to reclaim the brand,” Colebatch says.
Morrison and Frydenberg are both pragmatists rather than ideologues. But opinions in the wider party are also relevant, as Malcolm Turnbull found on the climate issue.
Frydenberg has pledged there will not be “any sharp pivots towards austerity”.
Nevertheless, there must be a budgetary reset at some point. And whether a pivot is sharp or not, and what amounts to “austerity” depend in part on whether you are one of the losers.
A promise to set up a $10 billion Housing Australia Future Fund to build social and affordable housing was the centrepiece of Anthony Albanese’s Thursday night budget reply.
In the program’s first five years, the investment returns would build about 20,000 social housing properties. Of these, 4,000 would be allocated to women and children fleeing domestic violence, and low-income older women at risk of homelessness.
Albanese said a further 10,000 affordable housing properties would be for “frontline workers” – “the heroes of the pandemic, those nurses, police, emergency service workers and cleaners that are keeping us safe”.
The housing fund would be managed by the Future Fund board of Guardians, which is chaired by former Coalition treasurer Peter Costello. The fund would be off budget.
In the plan, $200 million would go to repair, maintenance and improvement of housing in remote indigenous communities.
And there would also be $30 million over the first five years “to build more supportive housing and fund specialist services for veterans” who were, or risked being, homeless.
Albanese, who started his speech by referencing his own childhood in a council house in Sydney, told Parliament the social housing plan would create more than 21,500 jobs a year, with one in ten construction jobs being for apprentices.
“This is a Future Fund that will give more Australians a future,” he said.
In an initiative combining Labor’s commitments to promote renewable energy and skills, Albanese promised a “new energy” apprenticeship program to train 10,000 young people for “the energy jobs of the future”. This would support them with up to $10,000 over their apprenticeship. The cost would be $100 million.
These apprenticeship would be available in renewable energy generation; storage and distribution; energy efficient upgrades; renewable manufacturing like batteries, and relevant agricultural activities.
“Cutting pollution means creating jobs,” Albanese said.
Labor would also provide loans to students and new graduates with startup ventures who were attached to a tertiary institution or designated private accelerator.
In other initiatives, Albanese said a Labor government would work with employers and unions to make legally clear employers’ responsibility to eliminate sex discrimination, sexual harassment and victimisation from their businesses.
This was recommended by the Respect@Work report but not taken up by the government which said a positive duty already existed under work health and safety laws.
It would outlaw wage theft – a measure that was in the government’s industrial relations legislation but was abandoned after Labor and the crossbench filleted other parts of the package.
Given that the housing plan is off budget, Albanese’s Thursday night promises amount to little in budget outlays.
Attacking the budget, Albanese said it offered “a low growth, low productivity and low wage future”.
“Is that really the best we can aspire to?”
“I want Australia to emerge from this crisis stronger, smarter and more self-reliant, with an economic recovery that works for all Australians.”
Labor’s plan was “about rewarding and repaying the sacrifices that people have made” during the pandemic.
He said there was a once-in-a-century opportunity to reinvent the economy, lift wages, invest in manufacturing and skills, provide affordable childcare, fix aged care, address the housing crisis, champion equality for women’ and emerge as a renewable energy superpower.
“Tuesday’s budget didn’t speak for this country’s future – it only told the sorry tale of eight years of Liberal neglect,” Albanese said.
The budget “is not a plan for the next generation – it is a patch-up job for the next election,” he said. Scott Morrison’s “constant buck-passing and blame shifting has become a handbrake on our economic recovery”.
Albanese said the strength of Australia’s economic recovery depended on effective quarantine and vaccinations, but the government had bungled both.
Now Morrison and Treasurer Josh Frydenberg couldn’t even agree when Australians would be vaccinated, Albanese said – a reference to varying interpretations of the budget’s assumption the population will be vaccinated by year’s end.
Albanese said this was a “show bag budget” – flashy on the night but “falling apart the next day when the reality of falling real wages, vaccination confusion, infrastructure cuts and productivity inertia became apparent”.
It contained “no real reform, just a series of announcements top overcome political problems of the government’s own making”, Albanese said.
“What a missed opportunity if our economy comes out the other side with nothing to show for this transformational moment but the biggest debt and deficit of all time.”
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Monica Slavin, Head, Department Infectious Diseases, Peter MacCallum Cancer Centre, Peter MacCallum Cancer Centre
This week we’ve seen reports of an infection called mucormycosis, often termed “black fungus”, in patients with COVID, or who are recovering from COVID, in India.
Fungal infections can be devastating. And in this case mucormycosis is adding to the burden of suffering in a country already in a deep COVID crisis.
As of March this year 41 cases of COVID-19-associated mucormycosis had been documented around the world, with 70% in India. Reports suggest the number of cases is now much higher, which is unsurprising given the current wave of COVID infections in India.
But what is mucormycosis, and how is it linked with COVID-19?
What is mucormycosis?
Mucormycosis, formerly known as zygomycosis, is the disease caused by the many fungi that belong to the fungal family “Mucorales”.
Fungi in this family are usually found in the environment (for example, in soil) and often associated with decaying organic material such as fruit and vegetables.
The member of this family which most often causes infection in humans is called Rhizopus oryzae. In India though, another family member called Apophysomyces, found in tropical and subtropical climates, is also common.
Mucormycosis is a disease caused by the Mucorales fungal family.Shutterstock
In the lab, these fungi grow rapidly and have a black/brown fuzzy appearance.
The family members causing human disease grow well at body temperature and in an acidic environment (seen when tissue is dead or dying or with uncontrolled diabetes).
How do you get mucormycosis?
Mucorales are considered opportunistic fungi, meaning they usually infect people with an impaired immune system, or with damaged tissue. Use of drugs which suppress the immune system such as corticosteroids can lead to impaired immune function, as can a range of other immunocompromising conditions, like cancer or transplants. Damaged tissue can occur after trauma or surgery.
There are three ways humans can contract mucormycosis — by inhaling spores, by swallowing spores in food or medicines, or when spores contaminate wounds.
Inhalation is most common. We actually breathe in the spores of many fungi every day. But our immune system and healthy lungs generally prevent them from causing an infection.
When the lungs are damaged and the immune system is suppressed, such as is the case in patients with severe COVID, these spores can grow in our airways or sinuses and invade our bodies’ tissue.
India is recording many thousands of new COVID cases every day.Channi Anand/AP
Mucormycosis can manifest in the lungs, but the nose and sinuses are the most common site of mucormycosis infection. From there it can spread to the eyes, potentially causing blindness, or the brain, causing headache or seizures.
It can also affect the skin. Life-threatening wound infections have been seen after injuries sustained during natural disasters or on battle fields where wounds have been contaminated by soil and water.
We haven’t seen mucormycosis infections associated with COVID in Australia, and there have been very few in other countries. So why is the situation in India so different?
Before the pandemic, mucormycosis was already far more common in India than in any other country. It affects an estimated 14 per 100,000 people in India compared to 0.06 per 100,000 in Australia, for example.
Globally, outbreaks of mucormycosis have occurred due to contaminated products such as hospital linens, medications and packaged foods. But the widespread nature of the reports of mucormycosis in India suggests it’s not coming from a single contaminated source.
Mucorales can be found in soil, rotting food, bird and animal excretions, water and air around construction sites, and moist environments.
Although never compared, it may be that in Australia we have a lower environmental burden of Mucorales than in India.
Mucormycosis and diabetes
When diabetes is poorly controlled, blood sugar is high and the tissues relatively acidic — a good environment for Mucorales fungi to grow.
This was identified as a risk for mucormycosis in India (where diabetes is increasingly prevalent and often uncontrolled) and worldwide well before the COVID pandemic.
Of all mucormycosis cases published in scientific journals globally between 2000-2017, diabetes was seen in 40% of cases.
A recent summary of COVID-19-associated mucormycosis showed 94% of patients had diabetes, and it was poorly controlled in 67% of cases.
Diabetes is a risk factor for mucormycosis.Shutterstock
A perfect storm
People with diabetes and obesity tend to develop more severe COVID infections. This means they’re more likely to receive corticosteroids, which are frequently used to treat COVID-19. But the corticosteroids — along with their diabetes — increase the risk of mucormycosis.
Meanwhile, COVID itself can damage airway tissue and blood vessels, which could also increase susceptibility to fungal infection.
So damage to tissue and blood vessels from COVID infection, treatment with corticosteroids, high background rates of diabetes in the population most severely affected by COVID, and, importantly, more widespread exposure to the fungus in the environment are all likely to be playing a part in the situation we’re seeing with mucormycosis in India.
In Australia, as in many other Western countries, we’ve seen increased cases of another fungal infection, Aspergillosis, in patients who had severe COVID infections, needed intensive care management and received corticosteroids. This fungus is found in the environment but belongs to a different family.
For the many patients affected with mucormyosis, the outcome is poor. About half of patients affected will die and many will sustain permanent damage.
Diagnosis and intervention as early as possible is important. This includes control of blood sugar, urgent removal of dead tissue, and antifungal drug treatment.
But unfortunately many infections will be diagnosed late and access to treatment limited. This was the case in India prior to COVID and the current demands on the health system will only make things worse.
Controlling these fungal infections will require increased awareness, better tests to diagnose them early, a focus on controlling diabetes and using corticosteroids wisely, access to timely surgery and antifungal treatment, and more research into prevention.
Urgent global action is needed to end the COVID-19 pandemic and prepare for future threats, according to a new report by the Independent Panel for Pandemic Preparedness and Response.
The panel, co-chaired by former New Zealand prime minister Helen Clark and former Liberian president Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, criticises the World Health Organization (WHO) for its tardy actions during the first months of 2020.
The WHO was slow to warn of person-to-person transmission after it first received this information in Wuhan, China, in early January.
And it was slow to declare a public health emergency of international concern (PHEIC), which it did on January 30.
The WHO also opposed international travel restrictions that, if implemented earlier, might have slowed the international spread of the virus. By the time the PHEIC was declared, COVID-19 had spread to 18 countries outside China.
But WHO’s hands were tied
While this may appear just a scathing criticism of the world’s peak health body, the WHO had its hands tied by the international framework that governs the response to emerging infectious diseases and pandemics, the International Health Regulations (IHR).
These regulations were drafted in 2005 in response to the SARS (severe acute respiratory syndrome) and H5N1 (avian flu) pandemics and endorsed by member nations in 2007.
The regulations imposed new requirements that must be met before the WHO director general could act on emergencies, rather than enabling the WHO to act immediately and independently.
The regulations also prohibit international travel restrictions in public health emergencies.
The report describes February 2020 as a “lost month”, referring to the time between the declaration of a PHEIC and the WHO statement on March 11 that characterised COVID-19 as a pandemic.
The panel found this was due to a lack of understanding that the PHEIC declaration was the loudest possible alarm open to the director general. The pandemic declaration was not based on International Health Regulation guidelines.
A public health emergency of international concern was the loudest alarm available to WHO director general Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus.AP/Salvatore Di Nolfi
The panel found a number of countries took a wait-and-see attitude during February 2020, allowing the virus to spread uncontrollably.
Effective and high-level coordinating bodies were critical to a country’s ability to adapt to changing information. Yet only a few countries set in motion comprehensive and coordinated COVID-19 protection and response measures.
Of the 28 country responses the panel analysed in depth, only a handful adopted aggressive containment strategies, including China, New Zealand, South Korea, Singapore, Thailand and Vietnam.
Some others had uncoordinated approaches that devalued science, denied the potential impact of the pandemic, delayed comprehensive action and allowed distrust to undermine efforts. While not named, the United States and Brazil were probably among them.
The report praises the role of the African Union and the Africa CDC in leading a continent-wide coordinated response.
It also singles out research and development as a major achievement, especially in vaccine development.
Despite the lessons learned from previous outbreaks of SARS, H1N1 (avian flu), Zika, MERS (Middle East respiratory syndrome) and Ebola, preparedness was vastly underfunded.
The US government, led by the Centres for Disease Control, established the Global Health Security Agenda, a group of 70 countries — including Australia – committed to building global capabilities to implement the International Health Regulations. But the Trump administration defunded most of the US CDC’s activities under the agenda.
After the H1N1 pandemic, Australia reviewed its health sector response and made many recommendations for future preparedness. However, inaction followed. Australia has not run a large-scale pandemic simulation exercise since 2008.
Australia also dropped the ball on regional pandemic preparedness. After the SARS outbreak in 2003, the government developed a five-year regional emerging diseases and pandemics strategy, which received A$100 million from the Howard government. Yet the second five-year strategy attracted very little funding.
Fixing the global system
The panel urges immediate action to end the pandemic through:
accelerated vaccination
proven measures such as masks and social distancing
testing and contact tracing.
However, the focus of its recommendations is on future preparedness.
The panel is convinced a Global Health Threats Council at the most senior level is vital to future success. It would help secure high-level political leadership and ensure attention to pandemic prevention, preparedness and response is sustained over time. Such a body is long overdue.
To ensure the WHO is more agile, the panel recommends an increase in the proportion of funding that is unearmarked for specific programs and countries. This would allow for financial reserves to respond to sudden, unexpected events. It also needs an improved surveillance system, quicker alerts for emerging virus threats, and authority to publish information and dispatch expert missions immediately.
Transparency, speed, flexibility to act more independently and better resourcing are critical to the reforms proposed. Efforts to do this will need unqualified support from its member nations, starting at this month’s World Health Assembly.
After the disruptive years of the Trump presidency, the WHO needs restoration. Australia is influential and should be at the forefront of ensuring this happens.
Refugees and asylum seekers will take little comfort from the 2021–22 budget. Resettlement places remain capped, while spending on offshore processing, immigration detention and deterrence measures remains high.
For those still held offshore in Papua New Guinea or Nauru, in detention here in Australia, or on temporary visas in our community, the budget compounds the human cost of Australia’s hardline asylum policy.
Cap remains the same on refugee placements
Before COVID-19, Australia’s humanitarian program provided for the resettlement of up to 18,750 refugees and others in need each year. The program fell short of this number early last year when international travel was restricted due to the COVID-19 outbreak.
It was then cut by 5,000 places for 2020, and these places have not been restored under the latest budget.
This is despite calls from advocacy groups for Australia to do more in response to global displacement — particularly with the pressures COVID has placed on countries hosting large numbers of forced migrants — and to restore the humanitarian program to its pre-pandemic level.
For the next three years (2022–24), spending on offshore processing is projected at just over $300 million annually, although experience shows annual costs have exceeded those provided in the forward estimates since at least 2015.
This excessive spending raises serious questions about the government’s planning for these refugees stuck in limbo.
Keeping people in Nauru and PNG cannot be the only option, and the UN refugee agency has long made clear Australia must “live up to its responsibilities” to find long-term and humane solutions for those held offshore.
The budget includes continued support for Nauru and PNG to provide “durable migration options” in the way of resettlement, voluntarily return to individuals’ home countries or removal for those found not to be refugees.
But in addition to Australia’s obligations on this front, experts have raised real concerns that some asylum seekers have been pressured to agree to return home, despite the risks this may pose to their safety.
Among those still held offshore, only a small number have received provisional approval as of March for resettlement in the United States. The UN refugee agency, meanwhile, is working to find resettlement places in Canada and Europe, without help from Australia.
Some refugees have been waiting upwards of eight years for their claims to be asylum cases to be decided.BIANCA DE MARCHI/AAP
Vast sums for detention
The budget also sees big spending on immigration detention, with more than $1.2 billion allocated to Home Affairs for onshore detention and compliance in 2021-22. This includes packages to assist individuals to voluntarily return to their countries of origin.
An extra $464.7 million has also been allocated to increase capacity in detention centres on the Australian mainland and on Christmas Island, due to the challenges of deporting people during COVID-19 travel restrictions.
The Christmas Island facility was “reactivated” under last year’s budget to the tune of $55.6m, and currently holds more than 200 people.
The Murugappan family from Biloela, Queensland, lives in a separate section of the facility. They have been detained there since August 2019 — and for a long time they were the only occupants — at a substantial cost.
Farther afield, Home Affairs will spend $104 million to continue working with regional governments and international organisations (such as the International Organisation for Migration) as part of ongoing efforts to prevent human trafficking and people smuggling.
And an additional $38.1 million is going to Indonesia to continue funding basic services for asylum seekers and information campaigns designed to deter people from seeking asylum in Australia.
There are thousands of asylum seekers in Australia still waiting for their claims for protection to be assessed.
The Department of Home Affairs has recently launched a “blitz” in calling people in for their first interviews, which refugee lawyers say has left some applicants with just two weeks to prepare.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the budget continues a downward trend in the amount of funding for support services for asylum seekers at just $33 million for 2021–22, down from $39 million two years ago.
Advocates say this funding will only cover “a tiny percentage” of the needs of asylum seekers in the community while their protection claims are being assessed.
Elsewhere, however, the budget did hit some positive notes for refugees in the measures aimed at improving women’s safety.
Alongside economic and social support initiatives for refugee and migrant women, there is a pilot program to enable women on temporary visas who are experiencing family violence to explore visa options not reliant on their partner.
With Australia’s borders predicted to remain closed until mid-2022, the needs of refugees and asylum seekers may not be grabbing headlines in this budget cycle.
But as the Refugee Council of Australia has recently documented, there are many ways the government can help displaced people during the pandemic.
This includes bringing people from Nauru and PNG to Australia and ensuring procedural fairness in the assessment of their protection claims.
With studies repeatedly showing the settlement of displaced people can help to address demographic and labour shortages and substantially boost Australia’s economy, this budget’s emphasis on detention, deterrence and removal is disappointing.
It’s a missed opportunity for refugees and for the nation’s post-pandemic future.
The 2021 federal budget has largely ignored the plight of Australian universities. The forward estimates even point to an overall decline, once adjusted for inflation, in Commonwealth direct funding for higher education through to 2023-34.
On top of this, the budget indicates Australia’s borders will remain largely closed until at least mid-2022. That means our universities face a further period of stringency as revenue from international students continues to fall.
Federal Treasurer Josh Frydenberg has described the 2021-22 budget as an expansionary “recovery budget”. And the budget embraces most sectors in need of support during this recovery from the COVID-19 pandemic, except for Australian universities. It appears the Australian government perceives higher education to have a limited role to play in innovation, skills development, job creation, research-based knowledge generation and national productivity – all crucial elements in Australia’s recovery.
The budget offers no vision of the long-term sustainable funding plan our universities need to be internationally competitive. The government is relying on last year’s Job-ready Graduates Package to secure a 30,000 increase in domestic student places. But it has done little about the much greater loss of international students and the revenue they provided.
For greater financial certainty, universities must look to state-based plans for purpose-built quarantine facilities to enable at least some international students to return in 2021-22. The budget contained none of the funding requested for such facilities.
Australian universities are still grappling with the greatest financial challenges since the Great Depression. With national borders closed, universities are struggling to attract new cohorts of international students to replace those who complete their courses. These students have a strong preference for studying on campus, so Australia is increasingly at a disadvantage compared with the UK, US and Canada.
Under Australia’s higher education business model, international student fees have been vital in cross-subsidising university research. University discretionary funds accounted for half of their annual pre-pandemic spending on research and research training.
Without continuing strong research performance, a key driver of innovation essential to Australia’s recovery will decline. The global standing of Australian universities will also suffer, making it even harder to attract international students.
The injection of an extra $1 billion of emergency research funding in 2020-21 was most welcome to shore up the international competitiveness of our universities. The crisis has not passed, but there is no additional research support for 2021-22.
In addition, Australian universities are in the midst of a “digital revolution” as they transform from a predominantly face-to-face mode of teaching and learning to one that is either wholly or partially online. This transition will be expensive. At the same time, total funding for most student places in STEM subjects is being reduced because of the Job-ready Graduates policy.
The impact of the pandemic on Australian universities has been substantial. In February 2021, Universities Australia announced more than 17,000 jobs had been lost. The peak university body also forecast a financial shortfall of several billion dollars for 2021-22.
Universities Australia Chief Executive Catriona Jackson has predicted university revenue losses will be even bigger in 2021 than in 2020.Twitter
The job loss estimates might be conservative, according to our calculations. Victoria, with 36% of the university workforce (on a head count basis), reported the loss of 7,500 jobs in 2020. Pro-rated to all Australian universities, this figure suggests job losses exceeded 21,000 in 2020, with more expected in 2021.
Fixed-term and casual employees have borne the brunt of job cuts in response to the falls in revenue.
The industry-focused emphasis on innovation, commercialisation and tax breaks for earnings from Australian patents in the medical and biotechnology fields are in the national interest. This includes $42.4 million of co-funding with industry of STEM scholarships for women. However, these initiatives have limited spillover benefits for universities.
The federal government’s failure to acknowledge the major financial challenges universities will face for several more years represents a serious flaw in the budget recovery plan. It has missed several opportunities to underpin initiatives essential for wealth generation and universities’ international competitiveness and financial sustainability. The problems include:
no fine-tuning of anomalies identified in the Job-ready Graduates legislation, especially the reduced funding for science and engineering subjects
the shortfall in government research funding to compensate for the loss of discretionary funding available to universities from international student revenue
the lack of financial assistance to help retain highly skilled academic and professional staff – which continues the approach we saw with last year’s divide between private sector eligibility and public sector ineligibility for JobKeeper support
no assistance with recruiting international students, let alone funding to expand limited quarantine capacity and enable their return to Australia. This contrasts with the position of private English language course providers that will receive extra funding.
Financially viable universities, at the leading edge of knowledge generation and skills development, provide a vital service to the Australian community. They contribute to our economic, cultural and social aspirations. An opportunity has been lost with the 2021-22 budget because it has neither acknowledged nor acted upon the fact that universities are a cornerstone of prosperity in developed countries.
A long-term strategy and funding plan for universities are urgently required. The current crisis should prompt a strategic government response.
The federal government’s budget announcements this week included nothing new for universities — an industry hit particularly hard by the pandemic border closures and loss of international students.
Treasurer Josh Frydenberg on Tuesday night confirmed Australia’s border is likely to remain closed until mid-2022. Research from the Mitchell Institute found a third academic year of few new international students (2022) would cost Australia about A$20 billion a year — half its pre-pandemic value.
In his budget speech, the treasurer said only this about universities:
[…] we are also providing more than $19 billion in funding for our universities in 2021‑22. And as a result of decisions made during the pandemic, this year there are 30,000 more places at Australian universities.
This $19 billion is the continuation of previously announced higher education funding, including some temporary additional funding announced in 2020 as part of the government’s COVID response.
This temporary money will quickly phase out. Tuesday’s budget shows a reversion to the previous policy of keeping total higher education funding broadly stable.
Flat funding for university teaching and research
The budget papers show some falls in the next financial year in the main teaching and research grant programs. But this is mainly due due to the end of a special $1 billion COVID-related boost to research spending and the phasing out of $550 million in temporary student places intended to meet an expected increase in demand driven by the COVID recession.
The main recurrent programs for teaching, research and equity are stable at around $11 billion a year from the 2020-21 financial year through to 2023-24, which is unchanged from last year’s budget. Once inflation is taken into account, this implies a decline in real funding.
HELP loans are the main potential source of funding growth
A full picture of government support requires also considering HELP loans. This is the money students borrow from the government to pay for their tuition.
In the 2021-22 financial year, HELP could be the largest single source of university revenue, possibly just exceeding teaching subsidies and overtaking fast-diminishing international student fee revenue. The $19 billion the treasurer referred to includes HELP revenue.
In a surprising omission, the budget papers never directly tell us how much the government is lending through HELP. To work out what this number might be requires us to reconcile figures that appear in different budget documents. These suggest a government estimate that just under $7.6 billion will go towards HELP loans in 2021-22. That’s up about $340 million on the previous year.
Unlike other government higher education programs, outlays on HELP are not capped. This means they have growth potential that is missing for teaching and research grants.
Under this policy, students will pay less for degrees considered job-relevant such teaching, nursing and languages. But student contributions for most arts subjects will more than double. There are also significant increases for business and law students.
On average student contributions will be higher, pushing up average annual per student borrowing under HELP.
No official enrolment data yet shows the 30,000 additional student places mentioned by the treasurer. But early signs are that university enrolments are up in 2021, and a baby boom cohort of students will arrive in the next few years. More students will equal more borrowing.
Some universities are also reporting spikes in full-fee domestic postgraduate enrolments. These courses do not get any subsidies from the government, but the students can borrow under the FEE-HELP scheme.
What about funding for research?
University research is facing a crisis with no real precedent. Australia’s research boom was fuelled by the profits on international students that are now disappearing. It was helped by some domestic undergraduate courses making profits, but Job-ready Graduates will require that money to be spent on new student places instead.
In the 2020 budget, the government injected an extra A$1 billion into the Research Support Program, effectively doubling it for a year.
The goal was to to ease the financial pain caused by the COVID-19 pandemic and loss of international student fee revenue.
If Australia’s borders had re-opened to international students in the second half of 2021 or early 2022 there would not have been a strong case for another $1 billion. But unless safe travel zones on the New Zealand model open for major international student source countries, the budget suggests no major international movements until mid-2022.
With the temporary research grant increase not offered again in Tuesday’s budget, university research output will inevitably decline significantly. There are no major public funding increases on offer, other than for research infrastructure from 2023-24 – after the international student market is expected to be in a recovery phase.
It includes funding for non-university higher education providers and English-language colleges.
The money will go into an additional 5,000 Commonwealth-supported undergraduate certificate and graduate certificate short-course places at non-university higher education providers in 2021.
Unfortunately this money is unlikely to make much difference. Many of these non-university providers rely entirely or largely on international students. Funding for domestic students, a market they don’t usually target, cannot compensate for the loss of international students.
The closure of these colleges would hit universities in coming years, since many of them offer preparatory courses for students seeking university entry.
Assistance should have continued until borders open
It would not be reasonable to expect government to fully insure universities against the loss of international student revenue. Although nobody could have predicted two or more years of closed borders, universities were pursuing international strategies they knew were high risk.
But nor is it reasonable to expect a small number of industries, especially international education and international tourism, to incur massive losses to protect all Australians from the risk of COVID. There is a strong case for assistance to continue until the borders re-open.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Adam Taylor, Early Career Research Leader, Emerging Viruses, Inflammation and Therapeutics Group, Menzies Health Institute Queensland, Griffith University
The deal includes ten million doses against the original strain of the coronavirus to be delivered this year.
This vaccine has been widely used in countries such as Canada, United States and the United Kingdom under emergency use authorisations granted by these countries and the World Health Organization.
Moderna’s deal with Australia also includes 15 million doses of its updated variant booster vaccine candidate, estimated to be delivered in 2022.
The agreement is subject to approval by Australia’s drug regulator, the Therapeutic Goods Administration (TGA), for both the original vaccine and the booster. Moderna expects to submit an application to the TGA “shortly”.
How does Moderna’s vaccine work?
Moderna’s vaccine against the original strain is given as two doses.
Both this vaccine, and the updated booster, are mRNA vaccines (like the Pfizer vaccine). The vaccine contains genetic instructions for our cells to make the coronavirus’ “spike protein”. The mRNA is wrapped in an oily shell that protects it from being immediately degraded by the body, and ensures it’s delivered into cells after injection.
Once in the cell, the mRNA is converted into spike protein that can be recognised by the immune system. Our immune system then builds an immune response against the spike protein, and learns how to fight off the coronavirus if we encounter it in future.
Moderna’s vaccine remains stable at -20°C, the temperature of a household freezer, for up to six months. It can remain refrigerated at 4°C for up to 30 days.
As most pharmaceutical logistic companies are capable of storing and transporting products at -20°C, it’s relatively easy to store and distribute this vaccine. By contrast, Pfizer’s mRNA COVID-19 vaccine needs to be stored long-term below -60°C, though unopened vials can be stored at freezer temperatures for up to two weeks.
Phase 3 clinical trials of the vaccine, with over 30,000 participants, showed 94.1% efficacy at preventing COVID-19 as well as complete protection against severe forms of the disease.
Researchers did not identify safety concerns, with the most common side effects being transient pain at the injection site, and headache or tiredness that typically lasted for up to three days.
These clinical trials, however, largely occurred prior to the emergence of SARS-CoV-2 variants of concern. These include B.1.1.7, which emerged from the United Kingdom, and B.1.351, first detected in South Africa.
Subsequent studies have investigated the potential for these variants to escape the protection offered by Moderna’s vaccine. Preliminary studies have identified slight, although not significant, reductions in the protection it offers against the B.1.351 variant, originating in South Africa.
In response to this data, Moderna updated its mRNA vaccine formulation to account for the changes in the spike protein present in the B.1.351 variant. In March this year, it started phase 1 and 2 clinical trials to investigate the safety and ability of its variant vaccine to provoke an immune response.
Preliminary, preclinical studies suggest vaccination with the variant vaccine was effective at increasing neutralising antibodies against the B.1.351 variant.
Preclinical studies also suggest a vaccine containing an equal mix of its original vaccine, and the B.1.351 vaccine, was most effective at providing broad cross-variant protection, including against the P.1 variant that originated in Brazil.
In people already fully vaccinated against the original strain, clinical studies demonstrated a booster dose of Moderna’s variant vaccine achieved a higher number of neutralising antibodies against the B.1.351 variant, than simply giving a booster dose of Moderna’s original strain vaccine.
Moderna’s vaccines can be rapidly reformulated to target emerging variants. This is largely thanks to the splendour of the mRNA technology, simply requiring the genetic sequence of the virus.
It’s possible Moderna will be able to update its vaccine to cover future variants of the coronavirus so we can quickly provide people with protection to emerging strains.
This is a move that would not only further secure Australia’s supply of COVID-19 vaccines, but kick start the development of an industry within Australia that has the potential to impact multiple diseases.
A line in this week’s federal budget allocating A$288.5 million to repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation (rTMS) therapy might pass most people by.
This is a brain stimulation technique that’s been used to treat conditions such as depression for almost ten years in Australia, but which has not been funded through Medicare and so has had very limited availability.
Soon, it will be available on the Medicare Benefits Schedule for people with depression that hasn’t responded to other treatments, funding I’ve led applications for since 2012, and treatment I provide.
While we know rTMS can work, and is generally safe, we’re not entirely sure how it works. Here’s what the evidence says so far.
What is it?
In rTMS, a machine produces and applies a highly targeted, pulsed magnetic field to a specific area of the brain, towards the front, known as the prefrontal cortex. This is an area we believe isn’t working normally in people with depression.
During treatment, an electrical current passes through an electromagnetic coil held near the scalp to stimulate the nerve cells.
The person sits in a comfortable chair, awake and alert during treatment. It’s quite different from electroconvulsive therapy (ECT, the modern version of shock treatment). Unlike ECT, rTMS does not involve producing a seizure and does not require the person to be asleep and under an anaesthetic.
People are awake and alert during rTMS treatment.Author provided
How does it work?
We know repeated rTMS stimulation, over the course of weeks, increases nerve activity in the area under the coil. It also changes the strength of connections between different areas of the brain. This is thought to help restore the normal interaction between brain regions, although these ideas are still theoretical and definitely not proven.
Antidepressant medications may act in similar ways, but less directly. The chemicals they affect can influence brain function quite widely: tuning activity or connectivity in brain circuits up or down. rTMS probably does this more directly. By directly making nerve cells fire we can directly change their activity levels. These more direct actions could possibly explain why rTMS may work in some people who have not responded to medication.
Trials show rTMS treatments result in a gradual improvement in depression. A person’s mood will slowly lift, usually over the course of several weeks, they will become more interested in things, sleep better, be more motivated and have more energy.
In people who respond, depression can go away for several months up to many years. If depression returns, most people will get better again with further treatment.
Evidence collected over the past 25 years and collated shows rTMS is a safe and effective treatment for people with treatment-resistant depression. These are the 30-40% of people diagnosed with depression who have tried antidepressant medications, usually two or more, and haven’t seen any or sufficient relief. They have persistent, ongoing depression with major effects on their ability to function, work and lead normal family lives.
The treatment is usually well-tolerated. Although some people experience a strong tapping sensation on the scalp, scalp pain during treatment, or a headache afterwards.
Some 25 years of research have failed to identify any long-term negative consequences. People are much more likely to experience significant side-effects with antidepressant medications than with rTMS.
Studies have also compared the effectiveness of rTMS with other treatments, such as different medications. This study, written by authors from the pharmaceutical industry, only reports the benefits of medications in the study abstract but rTMS was clearly the superior intervention on outcomes across the full analysis.
Finally, research including more than 5,000 people having the treatment shows it provides meaningful and valuable clinical benefits in the real world, outside clinical trials.
This treatment isn’t perfect
Like many medical treatments, rTMS is not perfect. We are trying to develop ways to improve outcomes by better individualising the treatment. For example, we are trying to better understand the exact spot to target in the brain and how to match the frequency of stimulation to an individual person’s pattern of brain activity.
We’re also trying to get around one of the biggest issues: its relative inefficiency.
A course of rTMS typically involves going to a clinic for a 30-minute treatment session, five days a week, for up to six weeks, which is time-consuming and requires a significant commitment. We are working to make the application less time-consuming and potentially shorten the duration of therapy.
One of the most significant implications of the government funding of rTMS therapy through Medicare is that it will become more widely available, including in outer suburban and rural areas.
The funding will take some months to be implemented but once available will be accessible by a referral from a GP or psychiatrist.
If this article has raised issues for you, or if you’re concerned about someone you know, call Lifeline on 13 11 14.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Driss Ait Ouakrim, Research Fellow, Population Interventions Unit, Centre for Epidemiology and Biostatistics, Melbourne School of Population and Global Health, The University of Melbourne
Australians are eagerly watching the pace of the rollout, given this underpins a further budget assumption: international borders could re-open from mid-2022.
So are all Australians likely to be offered two COVID-19 doses by the end of the year?
The initial vaccination road map was derailed in part due to poor logistics, but more so due to lack of supply and sheer bad luck. Prioritising the AstraZeneca vaccine, with its local manufacturing capacity, seemed like a good bet but this was derailed by the rare — but real — possibility of blood clots.
The announcement overnight of 10 million doses of Moderna mRNA vaccine this year, and 15 million next year, suggests we will see AstraZeneca quietly shuffled off stage and replaced with Moderna. However, it is unlikely to impact the current timeline.
The AstraZeneca vaccine is recommended only for over-50s.AAP/Luis Ascui
Could we meet an end-of-year target?
In theory, yes.
Studies suggest around three-quarters of Australians are willing to have a COVID-19 vaccine. If we aim to have 75% of adults fully vaccinated with two doses this year, around 15 million Australians will need to receive 30 million doses over the next seven months.
About half of these people are 50+ or priority populations, and the other half are under 50. So that means 15 million doses before September 30 (assuming we continue using AstraZeneca), and 15 million doses from October 1, when greater stocks of the Pfizer and Moderna vaccine become available in the fourth quarter of the year.
From now until September 30, we have 100 weekdays left to deliver 12.2 million vaccine doses, or 122,000 per day.
This is twice as many doses per day as we achieved in the past week. But it’s doable if we ramp up our vaccination capacity.
From October 1 to December 24, we have about 15 million doses to administer to vaccinate 75% of all remaining adults. This will mean 250,000 vaccinations per weekday, so doubling the daily number again in the “sprint”.
Again, this is doable if we get all our mass vaccination hubs well-oiled and efficient before then. And probably use weekends, too.
Mass vaccination hubs will need to be working efficiently in the final quarter of the year.AAP/James Gourley
Where it gets more challenging is if many people 50 and over elect to wait for Pfizer or Moderna, meaning an even bigger “sprint”. That would require an extremely reliable supply of these two vaccines before Christmas, well-oiled delivery systems and mass vaccination sites to deliver in excess of 300,000 doses per weekday.
This implied goal of offering vaccines to all adults by the end of 2021 is ambitious, but not impossible.
So when could we open borders?
Australia will still not have COVID-19 resilience (or “herd immunity”, or something approaching it) by the end of 2021.
If 25% of Australian adults are unvaccinated, plus 100% of children, some 40% to 45% of the population will remain unvaccinated, which is likely too low to achieve herd immunity.
Wholesale opening of our borders then is not possible – the virus would still spread with substantial disease and death.
To meet a mid-2022 target for substantially loosening border restrictions, we will need children to be vaccinated and further vaccination of adults hesitant in 2021.
Looking at other nations around the world, the path to cutting greenhouse gas emissions seems clear.
First, developwind and solar energy and battery storage to replace coal- and gas-fired electricity. Then, replace petrol and diesel cars with electric vehicles running off carbon-free sources. Finally, replace traditionally made steel, cement and other industries with low-carbon alternatives.
In this global context, the climate policies announced in Tuesday’s federal budget are a long-odds bet on a radically different approach. In place of the approaches adopted elsewhere, the Morrison government is betting heavily on alternatives that have failed previous tests, such as carbon capture and storage. And it’s blatantly ignoring internationally proven technology, such as electric vehicles.
The government could have followed the lead of our international peers and backed Australia’s clean energy sector to create jobs and stimulate the post-pandemic economy. Instead, it’s sending the nation on a fool’s errand.
Prime Minister Scott Morrison, left, and Treasurer Josh Frydenberg should have used the budget to create jobs in the clean economy.Mick Tsikas/AAP
Carbon-capture folly
The Morrison government is taking a “technology, not taxes” approach to emissions reduction. Rather than adopt a policy such as a carbon price – broadly considered the most effective and efficient way to cut emissions – the government has instead pinned its hopes on a low-emissions technology plan.
That means increased public spending on research and development, to accelerate the commercialisation of low emissions technologies. The problems with this approach are most obvious in relation to carbon capture and storage (CCS).
The budget contains A$263.7 million to fund new carbon capture and storage projects. This technology promises to capture some – but to date, not all – carbon dioxide at the point of emission, and then inject it underground. It would allow continued fossil fuel use with fewer emissions, but the process is complex and expensive.
In fact, recent research found of 39 carbon-capture projects examined in the United States, more than 80% ended in failure.
The government’s CCS funding is focused on capturing CO₂ from gas projects. This is despite the disappointing experience of Australia’s only CCS project so far, Chevron’s Gorgon gas field off Western Australia.
Some 80% of emissions from the operation were meant to be captured from 2016. But the process was delayed for three years, allowing millions of tonnes of CO₂ to enter the atmosphere. As of January this year, the project was still facing technical issues.
CCS from gas will be expensive even if it can be made to work. Santos, which has proposed a CCS project at its Moomba gas plant in South Australia, suggests a cost of $A30 per tonne of CO₂ captured.
This money would need to come from the government’s Climate Solutions Fund, currently allocated about A$2 billion over four years. If Moomba’s projected emissions reduction of 20 million tonnes a year were realised, this project alone would exhaust the fund.
Plans to capture carbon from Chevron’s Gorgon gas project have not gone to plan.Chevron Australia
What about electric vehicles?
There is a striking contrast between the Morrison government’s enthusiasm for carbon capture, and its neglect of electric vehicles.
It ought to be obvious that if Australia is to achieve a target of net-zero emissions by 2050 – which Treasurer Josh Frydenberg this week reiterated was his government’s preference – the road transport sector must be decarbonised by then.
The average age of Australian cars is about 10 years. This implies, given fairly steady sales, an average lifespan of 20 years. This in turn implies most petrol or diesel vehicles sold after 2030 will have to be taken off the road before the end of their useful life.
In any case, such vehicles will probably be very difficult to buy within 15 years. Manufacturers including General Motors and Volvo have announced plans to stop selling petrol and diesel vehicles by 2035 or earlier.
But the Morrison government has ruled out consumer incentives to encourage electric vehicle uptake – a policy at odds with many other nations, including the US.
Despite the “technology, not taxes” mantra, this week’s federal budget ignored electric vehicles. This includes a A$10 billion infrastructure spend which did not include charging stations as part of highway upgrades.
Unless the government takes action soon, Australian motorists will be faced with the choice between a limited range of second-rate petrol and diesel vehicles, or electric vehicles for which key infrastructure is missing.
It’s hard to work out why the government is so resistant to doing anything to help electric vehicles. Public support appears strong. There are no domestic carmakers left to protect.
The car retail industry is generally unenthusiastic about electric vehicles. Its business model is built on combining competitive sticker prices with a high-margin service and repair business, and electric vehicles don’t fit this model.
At the moment (although not for much longer), electric vehicles are more expensive than traditional cars to buy upfront. But they are cheaper to run and service.
There are fears of job losses in car maintenance as electric vehicle uptake increases. However, car dealers have adjusted to change in the past, and can do so in future.
The budget ignored electric vehicles.Shutterstock
Wishful thinking
The Morrison government is still edging towards announcing a 2050 net-zero target in time for the United Nations Climate Change Conference in Glasgow this November. But as Prime Minister Scott Morrison himself has emphasised, there’s no point having a target without a strategy to get there.
Yet at this stage, the government’ emissions reduction strategy looks more like wishful thinking than a road map.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Deborah Lupton, SHARP Professor, leader of the Vitalities Lab, Centre for Social Research in Health and Social Policy Centre, UNSW Sydney, and leader of the UNSW Node of the ARC Centre of Excellence for Automated Decison-Making and Society, UNSW
Robots have fascinated cinema-goers ever since Fritz Lang’s 1927 expressionist silent film Metropolis. The German dystopia film portrays a near future where a female robot (a “gynoid”) is built as an evil twin of Maria, a woman trying to unionise the workforce. The robot Maria wreaks havoc, turning the workers against each other, inciting murder and the destruction of the machines powering the city.
The portrayal of robots in popular culture has always captured the technological hopes and fears of the day, veering between hyperbolic promises and dystopian nightmares.
This millennium, Pixar’s animated WALL-E (2008) gave us warm fuzzies for a friendly and lonely garbage-cleaning robot. Comedy-drama Robot & Frank (2012) showed a close relationship developing between an older man and his care robot.
The psychological thriller Ex Machina (2014) featured Ava, another beautiful gynoid who attracts and then attacks her human creators. British sci-fi television series Humans (2015-18) picked up where Steven Spielberg’s A.I. (2001) left off, exploring the blurred lines when humanoid robot servants join households.
Now we have Netflix’s The Mitchells vs. the Machines, where the very ordinary Mitchell family — mother Linda (Maya Rudolph), father Rick (Danny McBride), teenage daughter Katie (Abbi Jacobson) and younger son Aaron (Mike Rianda) — are forced to unite against menacing robots out to rid the Earth of humans.
‘We’re the Mitchells … the only people who can save the world. Sorry about that.’
The film presents a nuanced portrayal of our relationship with machines. It makes fun of the hype and idolatry pervading digital technology, responds to our anxieties about new technology, and reminds us old tech is sometimes better than over-designed, unnecessarily “smart” devices.
Eyes down
While films such as Metropolis expressed fears about intelligent machines gaining control over humans, The Mitchells vs. the Machines taps into our fears of technology interfering with our relationships.
At family dinner, Rick begs the others to look up from their phones and make eye contact just for once.
Katie has gained entry to film school, and feels her father doesn’t understand her obsession with her phone and digital film-making. Rick longs to resume the kind of close relationships he had with Katie when she was a little girl. He proudly drives a battered, “non-smart” car and wants to teach his children old-fashioned survival skills.
Directors Mike Rianda and Jeff Rowe populate The Mitchells vs. the Machines with modern household technology gone bad, until the Mitchells find themselves battling killer androids unleashed by a smartphone voice assistant named PAL (Olivia Colman) — a nod to the malicious HAL of 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968).
At first glance, PAL is not fancy. She is a simple face emoticon on a smartphone display with a female voice. However, she holds hidden depths.
Like the robots Will Smith battles in I, Robot (2004), PAL displays human feelings and autonomy. Rejected by the tech entrepreneur who created her in favour of a new line of domestic robots, PAL reprograms all robots to be killing machines, hunting down humans and sending them into space.
One of the scariest moments is when the Mitchells and some robot allies find themselves in a shopping mall, attacked by any machine with a chip linked to the PAL network. Smart toasters, vacuum cleaners, fridges, vending machines, kettles, washing machines — and even an army of Furby toys — form a relentless robot battalion.
But the family’s human inventiveness and analogue survival skills help them live to fight another day.
Neither humans nor their devices are free of faults in this film.
The humans have become dependent on their smartphones, social media and other digital devices: aspects of our everyday lives have become digitised for no apparent benefit.
But unlike previous portrayals — such as in The Social Dilemma (2020) — this dependence is not seen as permanent or pathological. Here, the boundaries between “good” and “bad” technologies are blurred, as is the line between “human” and “nonhuman”. We see both human and machine ingenuity, and human and machine hubris.
Human action is the initiator of the robot Armageddon, when an arrogant tech mogul, Dr. Mark Bowman (Eric Andre), treats PAL badly. Bowman displays little human feeling; PAL displays all the hurt of a jilted human lover.
When the first audiences watched Metropolis almost a century ago, robots were the frightening stuff of future technologies not yet invented. As computer technologies began to enter homes and workplaces, films increasingly showed robots as slaves (The Stepford Wives), companions (Star Wars) and domestic helpers (Bicentennial Man) — or in worlds unto themselves (Robots).
The Mitchells vs the Machines suggests there is a new give and take between humans and machines. Digital devices can be fun and useful, and are less of threat to our relationships than we might fear.
Indeed, these technologies can be more vulnerable and much less resilient than even the most dysfunctional human family.
The story of the past year has been the pandemic: from the first outbreaks in early 2020, the identification of the SARS-CoV-2 virus and methods to detect it, through to lockdown and quarantine measures, vaccine development, testing and finally distribution. The pandemic is not over, but the recovery has started.
At each stage, it has been scientists and researchers at the forefront of a rapid and successful national and global response to the pandemic. A nation’s capacity to respond to threats like a pandemic does not exist in a vacuum. It depends on scientists. You can’t research a solution without researchers.
In Australia, the higher education sector performs the vast bulk of research, including basic foundational research. This sector has been hit extremely hard by the pandemic, losing billions in revenue leading to the loss of research capacity — the very capacity we need to continue to respond to the pandemic and recover.
For this reason, the lack of recognition for science and scientists in the federal budget, and in particular for the foundational capacity in basic discovery science, is perplexing indeed. Such science capability underpins Australia’s resilience, not just against pandemics but also against natural disasters, economic shocks, technology disruption, the needs of an ageing population, and cyber warfare – many of the government’s stated priority areas.
There is some new funding in the budget, which is welcome. Initiatives such as support for the Square Kilometre Array radiotelescope, supporting women in STEM, climate adaptation, clean energy and government digital resources are essential additions to the Australian scientific landscape. The proposed patent box system promises to stimulate investment in Australian science in medical technologies and clean energy.
Much of this funding is for incremental, short-term, focused technology programs. But such mission-directed science, while worthy, does not substitute for discovery science. If the government wants these missions to be effective, it must invest in basic science too.
The SKA Pathfinder telescope in the Western Australian outback is a precursor to the full-scale Square Kilometre Array.CSIRO/Dragonfly Media
If universities are being asked to pivot away from over-reliance on international student income, and towards research commercialisation, there must be a basic science pool to help fuel this translation of research findings into commercial outcomes. At the risk of mixing metaphors, the pivot will be ineffective without a pipeline.
More importantly, the budget does nothing to stem the loss of university science jobs. Failure to act on university funding before the start of the 2022 academic year will mean more university job losses – and it is clear from the decisions already taken at ANU (in science and medicine), Melbourne, Macquarie and Murdoch that these cuts will come from science research.
Medical manufacturing capability
While the government has not revealed in the budget how much money it has committed to onshore mRNA vaccine manufacturing, it is welcome news that there is commitment to developing this capability that will serve the nation well for decades.
The Australian Academy of Science is pleased the government has heeded our advice to future-proof Australia by developing this capability. It will allow Australia to build resilience against future pandemics and potential biosecurity threats that require us to have the onshore capacity to mass-produce vaccines.
Australia will require significant capability development alongside a manufacturing facility. A pipeline of knowledge will need to be developed, from fundamental to applied research related to mRNA vaccines and therapeutics. Australia will need a nationwide consortium of multidisciplinary expertise, in everything from data science to materials engineering, to become a world leader in this new technology.
Building our research capability in this area will allow us to continue solving existing challenges with mRNA vaccines. That’s why the science sector must be included in the scoping and investment in this new capability.
When I was appointed president of the Australian Academy of Science in 2018, I spoke about how it can take decades to translate the outcomes of basic research into something of real value for the community. This remains the case. It has always been the case.
Often, our political leaders want instant answers to the big questions. Australia’s science and research community delivered when it came to COVID-19, but it must be supported and funded to continue making fundamental discoveries if it is to deliver again. The future prosperity of our nation depends on it.
Few structures in nature inspire more fear and fascination than the fangs of venomous snakes.
These needle-like teeth are used by snakes to pierce their prey and inject deadly venom. With more than 3000 species of snake inhabiting our world, we wondered: are all their fangs the same? Or are their fangs differently shaped depending on what they eat, as we find in other animal groups?
To uncover the answer, we examined the three-dimensional shape of snake fangs in 81 species and found that fangs have indeed evolved to suit the snake’s preferred prey, from hard-shelled crabs to furry mammals. Our results are published in the journal Evolution.
Differences across snake families
Venomous snakes are found all over the world and belong to five big families: vipers, atractaspidids, elapids, colubrids and homalopsids. Throughout evolution, each of these families independently “designed” their fangs and venom delivery systems, which led to slight differences.
Overview of the skulls across the five venomous snake families. Note the difference in the position of the fang inside the mouth, the size difference and the size of the (maxillary) bone the fang is attached to.Silke Cleuren
Vipers and atractaspidids have long tubular fangs that flip out when they strike, elapid snakes have short tubular fangs that are fixed to the jaw, and colubrids and homalopsids have grooved fangs all the way at the back of their mouths.
Teeth are adapted to diet across the animal kingdom
Variations in tooth shape according to diet are common in the mammal kingdom. Carnivores often have bladed cheek teeth to tear flesh, and herbivores have ridged molars to grind down leaves, roots, and other plant matter.
Venomous snakes vary in the types of prey they target. Some specialise in small mammals such as mice, some go for fish, shrimps or crabs, and some hunt reptiles and even other snakes. There are also generalists, which almost anything they can fit in their mouths.
Variation of tooth shapes across the animal kingdom. This illustration shows that depending on the food you eat different optimal tooth shapes have evolved that are good at coping with the preferred food source of the animal.Silke Cleuren
Linking fang shape to diet
We examined the three-dimensional shape of fangs from 81 snake species belonging to four families, with the exception of the rare atractaspidids. By measuring differences in the strength and sharpness of the fangs, we were able to show how fang shape is closely tied to prey preference.
Variation in fang tip sharpness (x-axis) and robustness (y-axis) for each of the different diet categories found in snakes. The fang shapes found in snakes with a specific diet are represented by the coloured lines.Silke Cleuren
Fangs are more robust and blunt in species that target tougher prey, such as lizards and crabs, and more slender and sharp-tipped in species that target prey with softer skins, such as mice. Additionally, we found fang shape demonstrated “evolutionary convergence”: the fangs of distantly related species with the same diet are more similar than those of closely related species with different diets.
Predicting the diet of rare and fossil snakes
Knowing more about the foods each type of snake likes can be valuable for the future success of both snakes and their prey. In Australia, most threatened snake species are affected by loss of habitat, which likely also results in the inability to catch their preferred prey.
By investigating their fangs we can now predict the group of prey it most likely prefers. If we were to relocate snakes, we could use this information to choose a suitable habitat that contains its favourite meal.
This knowledge can also be used in the other direction, for the conservation of threatened prey species, by protecting them against snakes that are a threat to them.
Silke Cleuren
Investigating the fangs from fossils of ancient snakes can shed light on which prey they likely targeted and how their habitat might have looked. Knowing the fang shapes of fossil snakes can help explain the wide variation in fangs we see today and how this variation ensured the continued success of some of nature’s most specialised predators.
Can we use this to improve protective clothing?
Given the threat snakes can pose to humans, understanding how fang shape varies can also help us to design better protective clothing. By testing how easily different fangs penetrate fabrics and other materials, we can make better choices of materials that actually protect against snake bites.
This could result in the improvement of clothing like hiking pants or shoes that will keep us safe if we accidentally get too close to a grumpy snake while trekking through their habitat.
India is in the grip of an unprecedented second wave of COVID-19.
Official data suggests new cases have crossed 400,000 per day, and the daily death count is around 4,200. But the actual numbers may be significantly higher.
We know the hospital system is stretched beyond its limits and there are dire shortages in the country’s expanded vaccine drive.
Clearly, India is in need of help from beyond its borders. What can other countries do?
Help already pledged
In this moment of crisis, the international community has already stepped in to provide some help.
Australia has announced it will sent ventilators, surgical masks and other personal protective equipment.
How should this help be used?
This aid is all critical. But given the size of India’s population — almost 1.4 billion — more will be needed and even this will not be enough.
Given this, we need to make best use of the incoming aid. India needs to conduct a quick national and state-level needs assessment exercise. Where is help most needed? And where can it be most useful?
India’s vaccine program has begun but has been hit by shortages.Rajesh Kumar Singh/AP/AAP
This should include an assessment of capacities for care and utilisation by each major city and rural area. For instance, there’s a need to evaluate diagnostic and testing capacities and their distribution across the country. An important measure missing at this point is high capacity testing systems which can help increase testing.
The review would also help answer: what are the strengths of the private and NGO sectors and how can they be harnessed? Where exactly are the most vulnerable, and how best can we reach them? Such a review would also help in ensuring that sophisticated machines such as ventilators are not sent to places where they cannot be operated or maintained.
At the same time, there’s a need to look for available internal funds and services that can strengthen India’s efforts.
The importance of vaccines
Given the emerging shortage of vaccines, they will, of course, be the most helpful gift in the long run. Many countries have booked more than they need. Such excess vaccine doses can be offered to India, as it will need millions of doses of imported vaccine to cover its population rapidly.
Besides the very visible gaps in emergency and critical care — such as oxygen and ventilators — technical expertise in epidemiology, biostatistics, data sciences and modelling as well as diagnostic technology would be very useful.
We need help in conducting expert analysis of the situation, prediction modelling by each state and city, and assistance on how to improve systems to record and analyse the huge amount of data that is streaming in.
Sharing knowledge and collaboration in areas such as understanding mutations via gene sequencing, identification of variants of concern, and studying their virulence and transmissibility will also help.
Such efforts are intangible and would fall in the realm of “knowledge aid”, and hence, governments may not be keen to prioritise this. But foreign support could also come in the form of specific funds and grants.
Help must come with no strings attached
In this process, the countries offering the support should not put any conditions or delay the process. Immediate assistance is needed as the peak of the current wave seems to be only a few weeks away.
This support should reach where the most vulnerable get COVID services: public hospitals, healthcare centres run by non-government organisations, and community COVID care centers. The technical help in epidemiology and data sciences should be given to state health departments and major research centres located in cities.
Most importantly, foreign support should strengthen the health system and not be a burden on it.
Only if we are in it together, can we all hope to defeat the virus.
It seems unlikely the arts will be a priority in the government’s May 20 budget. With housing affordability, climate change and child poverty all urgent issues, arts funding might not be seen as equally important.
I argue it is — for two main reasons: it makes economic sense, and it is also essential to our health and well-being in myriad ways. The two are, of course, interrelated.
Despite the wider arts sector accounting for up to 7% of the total workforce, it receives a disproportionately small proportion of overall government spending.
Last year, arts, culture and heritage were given just 0.33% of the total 2020 Budget and COVID-19 Recovery package (NZ$374 million out of $112.1 billion). This was an increase on previous years, but still miniscule compared with other sectors.
And yet the performing arts alone contributed $2.3 billion to the economy in 2018. According to the Ministry for Culture and Heritage, the sector “matched or outpaced other sectors of the economy in terms of income, employment and value added”.
Furthermore, New Zealanders participate in cultural activities at least as much as in sports and other recreations. For Māori, arts and culture overshadow sports and other leisure activities.
The myth of suffering for your art
Still, the arts struggle to secure continued long-term funding. For example, a scheme such as the Pathway to Arts and Culture, removed in 2011 by the National-led government, has not been reintroduced. But this could secure a liveable income for many working in the creative arts.
According to a 2019 survey by Creative New Zealand, the average annual income of freelance creative artists was just $15,000. Without greater support and investment, artists will continue to be some of the country’s lowest earners.
Some people will be unsympathetic. There are persistent myths about the creative arts – that it is not “real work” and that artists must “suffer for their art” – that contribute to negative perceptions of the sector.
But these notions are just that – myths. There is no evidence creativity requires practitioners to suffer, that it is part and parcel of being creative. We know the arts can improve mental health, but working in poverty as an artist can do quite the opposite.
Understanding the place of art in society
In my role as a parent, educator and arts practitioner, however, I often hear those myths expressed — that those working in the sector are not contributing to society in any meaningful or useful way, that they should “get a real job”.
These views are reinforced in many ways. The creative arts are not compulsory at all secondary schools, and anecdotal evidence suggests guidance counsellors often steer students away from careers in the arts.
All this suggests overly narrow definitions are at work. I define the creative arts as including any discipline – from writing to fine arts to film and television production – that exists in community, educational and professional contexts.
If our appetites for Netflix and Spotify are anything to go by, we turn to the creative arts every day. They are a fundamental part of our lives, identities and ways of seeing the world.
We could learn from Te Ao Māori (the Māori world) where everything is interconnected and the creative arts are integral, not just “cultural relief” to ease our daily toils as workers or part of a temporary COVID recovery package.
In Te Ao Māori the arts help communicate who we are, our spirituality, our well-being and our whakapapa. They are an essential part of our tikanga that we use to navigate existing together as whanau, communities, iwi and hapū.
The arts are integral: Prime Minister and Associate Arts Minister Jacinda Ardern meets the cast of Mary Poppins in Auckland during the 2020 election campaign.GettyImages
We need the arts more than ever
It’s not that the government doesn’t acknowledge the role of the arts in the nation’s health and well-being. Prime Minister and Associate Minister for Arts Jacinda Ardern has spoken and written publicly about this on several occasions.
The government has also used temporary support packages to help arts organisations and professionals through the pandemic. However, there have been no significant long-term funding increases for arts practitioners, nor for arts education, and most COVID grants are limited to building commercial capacity.
What to do? The government needs to consult with practitioners, researchers and experts across all genres of arts practice to determine how and where to invest for the best returns, and how to build a sustainable life as an artist.
For too long arts practitioners have been told what they need by central and local government and arts managers, or asked repeatedly to prove the value of what they do. As my colleague Molly Mullen has argued:
What is needed in Aotearoa is not another blunt impact assessment tool, but an informed, critical conversation about what resources, support, tools and knowledge are needed.
With current existential crises such as COVID-19, climate change, growing inequality, housing security and populist politics, we need the creative arts more than ever to make sense of the world and how to live in it.
Now is the time for our government to show the value it places on that vital function.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Mark Duckworth, Senior Research Fellow, Centre for Resilient and Inclusive Societies, Alfred Deakin Institute for Citizenship and Globalisation, Deakin University, Deakin University
In the past ten years we have seen several major reports and announcements seeking to improve and transform the way emergency management works in Australia.
After the 2009 Bushfires and the 2010-11 Queensland floods, the Council of Australian Governments endorsed the 2011 National Strategy for Disaster Resilience, which identified a need
[…] to develop and embed new ways of doing things […] to improve disaster resilience and prevent complacency setting in once the memory of a recent disaster has subsided.
Now, the new National Recovery and Resilience Agency will
[…] provide support to local communities during the relief and recovery phases following major disasters” along with hundreds of millions of dollars “invested in a new program of disaster preparation and mitigation.
This will certainly improve the way Australia prepares for and recovers from the increasing number of natural disasters we face. But will this new agency deliver the change we need?
“Resilience” is part of the new agency’s title, as it is also with Resilience NSW, the name of that state’s lead on disaster management.
Communities are now at the centre of emergency management policies. Organisations such as Bushfire Recovery Victoria state:
Recovery can’t be about government telling communities how it’s going to be. It must be about listening, working together, and ensuring that rebuilding and recovery are both locally driven and delivered.
Will the new agency further this change?
Effective recovery is planned in advance and is embedded in the initial disaster response.AAP Image/Sean Davey
Changing the relationships between communities and government
While superb emergency response is clearly vital, the new National Recovery and Resilience Agency can build on the reforms of the past decade. It needs to further the shift to a much broader community-centred approach.
We must remember “disaster resilience” is not just some buzzword or brand name for grants or disaster-themed programs. It is about changing the relationships between communities and government.
This means recognising a community’s existing knowledge, skills, structures and networks, and using them to co-design programs and projects.
Resilient communities:
function reliably and well under stress
successfully adapt
are self-reliant
have high levels of social support, social cohesion, and social capacity.
Governments are moving away from the model in which officials plan and deliver a service after community consultation. Co-designing local initiatives involves the community and government joining up to design and deliver a program. It is more than just improving community consultation.
This approach helps strengthen communities and their resilience — but it takes time and money. And that time and money must be invested before disaster strikes.
Resilient communities have high levels of social support, social cohesion, and social capacity.AAP Image/Dan Peled
[…] championing resilience across the nation[…] Its remit should be to think broadly about all of the measures necessary to make the country resilient to natural disasters, and plan and respond accordingly.
Will the National Recovery and Resilience Agency be this champion? There is hope with the new agency’s guiding principle of “locally led recovery”. But there are also some warning signs.
In carrying out its role of providing policy advice to government, the new agency must focus on fulfilling the vision of the existing key strategies and not reinvent them.
There is some real money (A$600 million) for disaster preparation and mitigation. It is not a lot compared to the billions of dollars lost through natural disasters, but it’s a start. This type of investment must become core funding.
However, this does not replace the loss of a dedicated centre like the former Australian Emergency Management Institute (AEMI), which closed after cuts announced as part of the 2014-15 federal budget.
It is a good move to have a dedicated agency to provide support to local communities during the relief and recovery phases following major disasters, and to focus on long-term recovery.
We know effective recovery is planned in advance and is embedded in the initial disaster response. This is why resources must be invested in advance, and not just after disasters.
Post-disaster recovery happens over the long term.AAP Image/Dan Peled
There are also some potentially complex governance, and intergovernmental, issues. How will the new agency relate to the work of Emergency Management Australia and to state recovery agencies?
Locally led recovery is crucial
Will the new National Recovery and Resilience Agency be able to lead the emergency management sector to the next phase in which communities are provided with resources to develop their own plans and tailor actions to local needs?
Or will it be another top-down government agency doing things to people rather than doing things with them?
Although policies now talk about being community centred, many communities still see themselves as being left out of emergency planning and recovery. Government agencies often lack local knowledge.
Also, as disaster research expert Lisa Gibbs points out in another article on The Conversation:
We must allow people to recover at their own pace, in their own way and have long-term support in place to do that.
Resilient communities function reliably and well under stress.AAP Image/David Crosling
Disaster resilience is not built through increased centralisation. Indeed, the core of resilience building is to let local communities develop customised approaches based on their own understanding of the risks with which they live. Doing this well requires trust and building relationships of trust require time.
Will initiatives be co-created with communities, based on existing community strengths, and reflecting the local context?
How will the success of the new agency be measured? It must be more than just delivering a certain number of grants and programs.
The real success of the National Recovery and Resilience Agency will be not only in what it does, but in how it carries out its work, in the relationships it forges, and in the trust it gains.
This story is part of a series The Conversation is running on the nexus between disaster, disadvantage and resilience. You can read the rest of the stories here.
New Zealand Parliament Buildings, Wellington, New Zealand.
Editor’s Note: Here below is a list of the main issues currently under discussion in New Zealand and links to media coverage. Click here to subscribe to Bryce Edwards’ Political Roundup and New Zealand Politics Daily.
One of the major planks of the budget was a pitch to women.
This included an 80-plus page women’s budget statement — the first since 2013 — with an overall figure of A$3.4 billion for women’s safety, economic security and health.
After the “hard hat” budget in October 2020 that was criticised for its “blokey” focus, the government was under pressure to deliver more for women.
This also comes as polling data show support for the Coalition among female voters is slipping, following months of scandals about the treatment of women in politics.
Now we have the detail, is this budget as “women friendly” as the Morrison government would like us to believe?
The short answer
This budget is not a game-changer for women’s economic security.
Treasurer Josh Frydenberg included a section on women in his budget speech, but the highly targeted and modest nature of the relevant initiatives, combined with a lack of action in critical gender equality policy areas, has left women’s opportunities for economic security largely unchanged.
Let’s examine some of the specific policy areas.
The childcare subsidy
The $1.7 billion in extra funding for childcare subsidies was announced pre-budget and is a modest addition to the more than $10 billion spent each year on early childhood education and care. The new money is spread over three years and is tightly targeted, aimed at reducing the out of pocket expenses of families with two or more children under six years in approved services.
Extra funding for childcare makes up about half of the spending in the women’s budget statement.Mick Tsikas/AAP
The government estimates the change will benefit around 250,000 or one quarter of families who use early childhood services, and is expected to have only a modest impact on women’s labour supply. Families with one child in a service are not eligible for the reduction.
Removal of the annual $10,560 cap on the total subsidy available to higher income families is forecast to benefit around 18,000 families and reduce the disincentive for women in these households to work an extra day or two.
These changes will be good for those who qualify, but they inexplicably don’t apply until July 2022. They also make an already complex system even more complex.
The highly-targeted measures do not move Australia closer to the universal system of low-cost or free high-quality childcare that will deliver maximum benefit to children, women’s labour force supply and economic prosperity.
There is also no change to the work test and the reduction in subsidised access for children from vulnerable families. Both of these are unfortunate features of the existing scheme and disadvantage children who need early learning and care the most.
Superannuation
Another key measure was the abolition of the $450 per month income threshold under which employers do not have to pay the superannuation guarantee. This is estimated to affect around 200,000 women, especially those holding multiple short hours and low paid jobs.
But while payment of the superannuation guarantee will boost retirement savings, it won’t make a substantial difference to women’s retirement income and security.
Superannuation is a workplace entitlement that directly reflects women’s employment history.
Women’s disproportionate employment in part-time, low wage and insecure work, compared with men, means the most direct way to fix inequalities in superannuation balances is to support men and women to share care responsibilities for young children, the ill, disabled and elderly family, while also bolstering the quality of essential care services.
This will reduce the time women spend out of the labour market doing unpaid care. Improving wages in feminised sectors and closing the gender pay gap across the economy is also critical to growing women’s retirement incomes.
Missed opportunities
What is not in a budget can be as important as what is.
Failure to improve the national paid parental leave system — now ten years old — is a significant missed opportunity. Women’s economic security depends upon a robust system of properly funded, gender neutral paid parental leave. My recent research shows young Australian men want to share the care of children with their partner and value gender equality at home.
Women’s advocates have been lobbying for years for an increase in paid parental leave provisions.Tracey Nearmy/AAP
The current national system entitles the primary carer to 18 weeks of paid parental leave at the minimum wage. This needs to be expanded to at least 26 weeks, with the ability to share it easily between parents, paid at a rate closer to wage-replacement and include superannuation. This will support gender equality in the home and the workplace, and substantially improve women’s economic security in both the short and long term.
Lack of attention to improving wages for the mostly female care workforce is another missed opportunity.
The $17.7 billion allocated to the aged care sector includes money for workforce training and expansion. However, there are no measures to address the very low wages and insecure employment conditions of the predominantly women who work in the care economy. Until wages and conditions in the care sector are addressed, economic security for many Australian women will remain out of reach.
This isn’t the reform we need
The persistent gender inequalities embedded in Australia’s labour market, tax system and social policies were never going to be resolved in a single budget. And this budget is better than what was on offer last year.
But recognising women and providing a number of modest, worthy initiatives isn’t the same as delivering the structural reform in childcare, paid parental leave and insecure and low paid work that is urgently required to shift the dial on the gender pay gap and women’s economic security.
There is much work to be done to promote women’s economic security and deliver a prosperous and inclusive economy. We can’t afford to keep missing opportunities for change.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Kate Fitz-Gibbon, Director, Monash Gender and Family Violence Prevention Centre; Associate Professor of Criminology, Faculty of Arts, Monash University
This came as part of a special women’s budget statement, which pitched the budget as helping provide women with “respect, dignity, choice, equality of opportunity and justice”.
It also comes amid a national crisis in domestic violence. On average, one woman is killed every week in Australia by a male current or former partner.
So does the budget deliver on its promise to prioritise women’s safety and equality at home and at work? Does it do enough?
How does this compare with other investments?
By way of comparison, the federal government announced a $150 million package for domestic and family violence support as part of the COVID response in March last year. The headline figure on Tuesday night is a marked increase on this.
The budget papers note violence against women is estimated to cost Australia $26 billion annually. In part, this reflects the major health impacts of violence against women, with victim survivors at an increased risk of chronic illness, pain, and reproductive health problems.
The budget featured a separate women’s statement this year.Mick Tsikas/AAP
When compared to state and territory level contributions, it is also worth noting that since the 2015 Victorian Royal Commission into Family Violence, the state government has committed more than $3 billion to reform responses to and the prevention of family violence.
The comparison is useful to demonstrate what level of funding may be needed to support whole-of-system change.
The promising news
There are some noteworthy new initiatives included in the budget papers.
The government has announced $31.6 million over five years for a new Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander personal safety survey. This is an important commitment and a first step towards truly understanding the prevalence of domestic, family and sexual violence in Indigenous communities. We cannot address what we do not know.
The survey must capture data in a culturally safe and sensitive way. It must lead to meaningful knowledge and community-controlled solutions. These must be adequately funded by governments and actually meet the needs of local communities.
The budget also funds the establishment of a new national women’s alliance for women with disability, to start work in June this year.
There has been growing pressure on the federal government to do more to prevent violence against women.Jeremy Piper/AAP
Women with disability are at greater risk of family, domestic and sexual violence and experience heightened barriers to reporting and seeking help. Approximately 20% of Australian women live with disability. Further, about two in five workers with disability in Australia report they have been sexually harassed in the past five years.
The alliance is a significant acknowledgement of the need to ensure the voices of women with disability are heard and inform the development of policy and practice.
Other aspects of the budget include $164.8 million in financial support for women who escape domestic violence and an extra $12.6 million for crisis accommodation. While this is a start, we note peak bodies have already signalled concerns around the inadequacy of funds for safe and affordable housing.
The disappointing news
The budget reflects a long-held tradition of failing to meaningfully invest in some critical areas. These include children as victims of domestic and family violence in their own right, working with men to change behaviours and working with First Nations communities and community leaders.
Similarly, $35 million for primary prevention — with most focused on changing public attitudes and only partly focused on education for children and young people — is an under-investment in strategies that have the capacity to help reduce violence.
Further, a mere $9 million for perpetrator-focused responses is also a notable under-investment. While we acknowledge some of this work is funded by the states, more federal investment is needed to support a wide range of evidence-based interventions.
Lastly, we note the $26 million investment in Family Violence Prevention Legal Services to improve support services for First Nations women. This fails acknowledge the need for a national, culturally sensitive approach to domestic and family violence that addresses the lasting effects of colonisation on First Nations women, men and children.
Our verdict: is it enough?
The women’s budget statement describes the government’s commitment to reducing and preventing all forms of domestic, family and sexual violence as “steadfast”.
Our assessment is the 2021 budget is an improvement on previous years, but it does not yet reflect the level of investment so desperately needed to address, interrupt and ultimately prevent what is a national crisis.
Tackling this national emergency will require transformational leadership and unprecedented funding. This budget is a step forward for this government, but it falls short of promising the change we need.
While we recognise funding is only part of the picture, it is nevertheless an essential part. The budget was an opportunity for the Morrison government to demonstrate — in measurable ways — its commitment to do what’s required to ensure women’s equality at home, in public, at work and online.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By C Raina MacIntyre, Professor of Global Biosecurity, NHMRC Principal Research Fellow, Head, Biosecurity Program, Kirby Institute, UNSW
More than a year into the pandemic, the World Health Organization (WHO) and US Centers for Disease Control finallychanged their guidance to acknowledge SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19, can be transmitted through the air we breathe.
In Australia, we’ve just had the latest leak from hotel quarantine, this time in South Australia. Investigations are under way to find out whether a man may have caught the virus from someone in the hotel room next to his, before travelling to Victoria, and whether airborne transmission played a role.
These examples are further fuelling calls for Australia to officially recognise the role of airborne transmission of SARS-CoV-2. Such recognition would have widespread implications for how health-care workers are protected, how hotel quarantine is managed, not to mention public health advice more broadly.
Indeed, we’re waiting to hear whether official Australian guidelines will acknowledge the latest evidence on airborne transmission, and amend its advice about how best to protect front-line workers.
The evidence has changed and so must our advice
At the beginning of the pandemic, in the absence of any scientific studies, the WHO said the virus was spread by “large droplets” and promoted handwashing. Authorities around the world even discouraged us from wearing masks.
A false narrative dominated public discussion for over a year. This resulted in hygiene theatre — scrubbing of hands and surfaces for little gain — while the pandemic wreaked mass destruction on the world.
But handwashing did not mitigate the most catastrophic pandemic of our lifetime. And the airborne deniers have continually shifted the goalposts of the burden of proof of airborne spread as the evidence has accrued.
SARS-CoV-2 is a respiratory virus that multiplies in the respiratory tract. So it is spread by the respiratory route — via breathing, speaking, singing, coughing or sneezing.
Two other coronaviruses — the ones that cause MERS (Middle Eastern respiratory sydrome) and SARS (severe acute respiratory syndrome) — are also spread this way. Both are accepted as being airborne.
In fact, experimental studies show SARS-CoV-2 is as airborne as these other coronaviruses, if not more so, and can be found in the air 16 hours after being aerosolised.
Several hospital studies have also found viable virus in the air on a COVID-19 ward.
Established criteria for whether a pathogen is airborne scores SARS-CoV-2 highly for airborne spread, in the same range as tuberculosis, which is universally accepted as airborne.
A group of experts has also recently outlined the top ten reasons why SARS-CoV-2 is airborne.
So why has airborne denialism persisted for so long?
The role of airborne transmission has been denied for so long partly because expert groups that advise government have not included engineers, aerosol scientists, occupational hygienists and multidisciplinary environmental health experts.
Partly it is because the role of airborne transmission for other respiratory viruses has been denied for decades, accompanied by a long history of denial of adequate respiratory protection for health workers. For example, during the SARS outbreak in Canada in 2003, denial of protection against airborne spread for health workers in Toronto resulted in a fatal outbreak.
What’s the difference between aerosols and droplets?
The distinction between aerosols and droplets is largely artificial and driven by infection control dogma, not science.
This dogma says large droplets (defined by WHO as larger than 5 micrometres across) settle to the ground and are emitted within 2 metres of an infected person. Meanwhile, fine particles under 5 micrometres across can become airborne and exist further away.
There is in fact no scientific basis for this belief. Most studies that looked at how far large droplets travelled found the horizontal distance is greater than 2 metres. And the size threshold that dictates whether droplets fall or float is actually 100 micrometres, not 5 micrometres. In other words, larger droplets travel further than what we’ve been led to believe.
Leading aerosol scientists explain the historical basis of these false beliefs, which go back nearly a century.
And in further evidence the droplet theory is false, we showed that even for infections believed to be spread by droplets, a N95 respirator protects better than a surgical mask. In fact airborne precautions are needed for most respiratory infections.
Why does this difference matter?
Accepting how SARS-CoV-2 spreads means we can better prevent transmission and protect people, using the right types of masks and better ventilation.
Breathing and speaking generate aerosols. So an infected person in a closed indoor space without good ventilation will generate an accumulation of aerosols over time, just like cigarette smoke accumulates.
A church outbreak in Australia saw spread indoors up to 15 metres from the sick person, without any close contact.
Masks work, both by preventing sick people from emitting infected aerosols, and by preventing well people from getting infected. A study in Hong Kong found most transmission occurred when masks weren’t worn inside, such as at home and in restaurants.
The old dogma of droplet infection includes a belief that only “aerosol generating procedures” — such as inserting a tube into someone’s throat and windpipe to help them breathe — pose a risk of airborne transmission. But research shows a coughing patient generates more aerosols than one of these procedures.
At the Royal Melbourne Hospital, where many health worker infections occurred in 2020, understanding airflow in the COVID ward helped explain how health workers got infected.
Think about it. Airborne deniers tell us infection occurs after a ballistic strike by a single large droplet hitting the eye, nose or mouth. The statistical probability of this is much lower than simply breathing in accumulated, contaminated air.
The ballistic strike theory has driven an industry in plastic barriers and face shields, which offer no protection against airborne spread. In Switzerland, only hospitality workers using just a face shield got infected and those wearing masks were protected.
We need to select quarantine venues based on adequacy of ventilation, test ventilation and mitigate areas of poor ventilation. Opening a window, drawing in fresh air or using air purifiers dramatically reduce virus in the air.
We need to provide N95 respirators to health, aged-care and quarantine workers who are at risk of high-dose exposure, and not place them in poorly ventilated areas.
It’s time to accept the evidence and tighten protection accordingly, to keep Australia safe from SARS-CoV-2 and more dangerous variants of concern, some of which are vaccine resistant.
As far as odds go, things don’t look promising for the slender-nerved acacia (Acacia leptoneura), a spiky plant with classic yellow-ball wattle flowers. With most of its habitat in Western Australia’s wheat belt cleared for agriculture, it was considered extinct for more than 160 years.
Now, just two plants are known in the world, and they’re not even in the same place. This species is among many Australian plants that have come perilously close to extinction.
To help prevent the loss of any native plant species, we’ve assembled a massive evidence base for more than 750 plants listed as critically endangered or endangered. Of these, we’ve identified the 50 at greatest risk of extinction.
The good news is for most of these imperilled plants, we already have the knowledge and techniques needed to conserve them. We’ve devised an action plan that’s relatively easy to implement, but requires long-term funding and commitment.
What’s driving the loss?
There are 1,384 plant species and subspecies listed as threatened at a national level. Twelve Australian plant species are considered probably extinct and a further 21 species possibly extinct, while 206 are officially listed as critically endangered.
Two known plants of slender nerved acacia (Acacia leptoneura) remain, about 1 kilometre apart. Propagation attempts have been unsuccessful and the genetic diversity is probably very low.Joel Collins, Author provided
Australian plants were used, managed and celebrated by Australia’s First Nations people for at least 60,000 years, but since European colonisation, they’ve been beset by a range of threats.
Land clearing, the introduction of alien plants, animals, diseases, and interruptions to ecological processes such as fire patterns and flooding have taken a heavy toll on many species. This is particularly the case in the more densely populated eastern and southern parts of the continent.
Ironstone pixie mop (Petrophile latericola) occurs on a soil type that’s been heavily cleared for agriculture, and is suspected to be susceptible to an introduced root-rot fungus. In 2020 fewer than 200 plants remained, in poor condition.Andrew Crawford, Author provided
Things aren’t improving. Scientists recently compiled long-term monitoring of more than 100 threatened plant species at 600 sites nationally. And they found populations had declined on average by 72% between 1995 and 2017.
Many species listed as threatened aren’t receiving targeted conservation action or even baseline monitoring, so an important first step in preventing extinctions was identifying the species at greatest risk.
To find the top 50, we looked at the evidence: all available published and unpublished information and expert surveys of over 120 botanists and land managers. They’re targeted by our Action Plan for Australia’s Imperilled Plants.
Action Plan for Australia’s Imperilled Plants.
Thirty of the species in the plan have fewer than 50 mature individual plants remaining.
And 33 are known only from a single location, such as the Grampians pincushion-lily (Borya mirabilis), which occurs on one rocky outcrop in Victoria. This means the entire population could be destroyed by a single event, such as a major bushfire.
About 2,000 Morrisby’s gums were growing in the early 1990s, but by 2016 fewer than 50 remained. Climate change and damage from insects and animals threaten those left. Protecting trees with fencing has led to new seedlings.Magali Wright, Author providedFewer than 10 lax leek-orchids (Prasophyllum laxum) remain. Declines are ongoing due to drought and wildfire, and the South Australian species only occurs on private property not managed for conservation. Proposed recovery actions include habitat protection and establishing the orchid and its mycorrhizal fungi in conservation reserves.Shane Graves, Author providedFewer than 15 woods well spyridium (Spyridium fontis-woodii) shrubs remain on a single roadside in South Australia. Research into threats and germination requirements is urgently needed, plus translocation to conservation reserves.Daniel Duval/South Australian Seed Conservation Centre, Author provided
So how can we protect them?
Some of the common management actions we’ve proposed include:
preventing further loss of species’ habitat. This is the most important action required at a national scale
regularly monitoring populations to better understand how species respond to threats and management actions
safely trialling appropriate fire management regimes, such as burning in areas where fires have been suppressed
investing in disease research and management, to combat the threat of phytophthora (root-rot fungus) and myrtle rust, which damages leaves
propagating and moving species to establish plants at new sites, to boost the size of wild populations, or to increase genetic diversity
protecting plants from grazing and browsing animals, such as feral goats and rabbits, and sometimes from native animals such as kangaroos.
Once common, the dwarf spider-orchid (Caladenia pumila) wasn’t seen for over 80 years until two individual plants were found. Despite intensive management, no natural recruitment has occurred. Propagation attempts have successfully produced 100 seedlings and 11 mature plants from seed. This photo shows botanist Marc Freestone hand-pollinating dwarf spider-orchids.Marc Freestone, Author providedOnly 21 mature plants of Gillingarra grevillea (Grevillea sp. Gillingarra) remain on a disturbed, weedy rail reserve in southwestern WA. Half the population was destroyed in 2011 due to railway maintenance and flooding. Habitat protection and restoration, and translocations to conservation reserves are needed to ensure its survival.Andrew Crawford, Author provided
Another common issue is lack of recruitment, meaning there’s no young plants coming up to replace the old ones when they die. Sometimes this is because the processes that triggered these plants to flower, release seed or germinate are no longer occurring. This can include things like fire of a particular intensity or the right season.
Unfortunately, for some plants we don’t yet know what triggers are required, and further research is essential to establish this.
Now we need the political will
Our plan is for anyone involved in threatened flora management, including federal, state, territory and local government groups, First Nations, environment and community conservation groups, and anyone with one of these plants on their land.
The Border Ranges lined fern (Antrophyum austroqueenslandicum) and its habitat are exceedingly rare. It’s threatened by drought and climate change, and fewer than 50 plants remain in NSW. If the threat of illegal collection can be controlled, the species would benefit from re-introduction to Queensland’s Lamington National Park.Lui Weber, Author provided
Plants make Australian landscapes unique — over 90% of our plant species are found nowhere else in the world. They’re also the backbone of our ecosystems, creating the rich and varied habitats for our iconic fauna to live in. Plants underpin and enrich our lives every day.
Now we have an effective plan to conserve the Australian plants at the greatest risk of extinction. What’s needed is the political will and resourcing to act in time.
Kiwi are moved between populations to lower the risk of inbreeding.Maungatautari Ecological Island Trust, CC BY-SA
Like many endangered species, Aotearoa’s flightless and nocturnal kiwi survive only in small, fragmented and isolated populations. This leads to inbreeding and, eventually, inbreeding depression — reduced survival and fertility of offspring.
Mixing kiwi from different populations seems a good idea to prevent such a fate. But translocating kiwi in an effort to mate birds that are not closely related can come with the opposite risk of outbreeding. This happens when genetically distant birds breed but produce chicks with lower fitness than either parent.
Translocations have been part of the kiwi conservation effort for decades. We also have many genetic studies of the five species of kiwi in New Zealand.
But our research, which synthesised available genetic studies, shows we don’t yet have enough genetic information to predict translocation outcomes and manage genetic diversity to achieve safe and sustainable conservation practices.
Kiwi are cherished by all cultures in New Zealand as a symbol of a unique natural heritage. For Māori, kiwi are a taonga (treasure) and of vital importance to hapū (sub-tribal groups) and iwi (tribes) across Aotearoa.
Our research is the culmination of more than two decades of close collaboration and inclusion of mātauranga Māori (traditional knowledge) to improve conservation outcomes — for mana tangata (people with authority over land), for kiwi and for other species across the globe.
Before humans arrived in Aotearoa, kiwi populations numbered around 12 million. They were dispersed across most of the country.
In the early 20th century, there were still millions of kiwi roaming the bush. But Pākehā settlers accelerated the destruction of New Zealand’s forests and introduced invasive predators, including stoats and ship rats, which are now a major threat, particularly to kiwi chicks.
Introduced predators, including stoats and rats, are a major threat to kiwi.Shutterstock/Lakeview Images
Today there are fewer than 70,000 kiwi in the wild, and populations are declining in areas without predator control. The forests, wetlands and pastures where kiwi once lived have been milled, drained and ravaged by introduced browsers such as goats and deer.
Kiwi are also not immune to climate change, with worrying mortality events during recent severe droughts. In these new and changing conditions, kiwi face many challenges: new predators, new diseases, new seasonal events, new foods.
Genetic diversity provides a buffer against such challenges and better chances of survival for a species. One way to maintain genetic diversity is through mating between individuals that are not closely related.
But most kiwi live in groups of fewer than 100 birds. We have confined them to pockets of favourable habitat. As a result of well-meant conservation management to protect the birds from mammalian predators, we have moved them to safe havens on offshore islands or patches of remnant forests that effectively function as “mainland islands”, cut off from other habitat.
Kiwi being released on an offshore island sanctuary.Shutterstock/Naska Raspopina
Call for more genetic research
One way to avoid inbreeding depression is to mix individuals from distant populations that have different genes and could provide the basis for genetic rescue. But some are opposed to such mixing because it raises the risk of outbreeding depression, which is particularly high if the parental populations differ in their adaptations to their respective environments.
Kiwi populations have evolved to adapt to local conditions on timescales of tens of thousands of years. This means one population of the same species may have adapted in different ways to another. For example, populations of North Island brown kiwi (Apteryx mantelli) are found from the warm lowlands of Te Tai Tokerau/Northland to the sub-apline volcanic plateau near Mount Ruapehu.
For decades the Department of Conservation (DOC) and community groups have been translocating kiwi all over Aotearoa. We need more gene sequencing research of such populations to investigate the effects of inbreeding and outbreeding.
Decision making in the absence of sufficient genetic information risks leading to management strategies that are inadequate or even harmful for future population sustainability.
Working with Māori
Māori, the Indigenous people of Aotearoa, are kaitiaki (guardians) of the kiwi. Whakapapa, a key concept of relatedness in te ao Māori (Māori world view), means Māori culture has a deep understanding of ideas described in western science as genetic diversity, inbreeding and hybridisation.
But hapū and iwi are not always consulted about conservation interventions, even though their role as co-managers of taonga species is well established in Te Tiriti o Waitangi.
In 2013, my research group teamed up with two hapū (Te Patukeha and Ngāti Kuta) to develop a management plan for the North Island brown kiwi in their area. A century of well-intentioned but somewhat random mixing of different North Island brown kiwi populations during translocations has effectively produced both “randomised experimental” and “control” groups.
Our team is now comparing the precise genetics of mixed-background birds currently thriving on Ponui Island in the Hauraki Gulf with the control populations in Te Tai Tokerau and Taranaki, from which the Ponui Island kiwi have been drawn.
We have also recruited support from other hapū and iwi in Tai Tokerau and have now started to analyse genetic information from several sites, using the latest techniques to investigate the genetic make-up of the birds. This research will shed new light on the effects of years of breeding in populations that started with kiwi from a single source versus those that started with mix-provenance birds.
We need to save North Island brown kiwi, but we need to do it properly. And when conservation efforts succeed, it would be far better if we knew why they worked. If we do this research right, the conservation management of other species will benefit, across Aotearoa and the world, at a time of an accelerating extinction crisis.
When Australians think of international education and China, they typically consider the country as a source of international students — Australia’s largest. But China is now one of the leading host countries of international students in the world.
My recently published research shows Chinese universities are learning to reconcile the different forces of local, national and global demands. They aim to:
The growth of the initiative over the past decade echoes across China’s laws, five-year plans, guidelines and action plans, and government decisions, opinions, regulations, notices and explanations.
2010 was a turning point
Between 2007 and 2009, the Chinese Ministry of Education had signalled against reckless pursuit of international student enrolments at the expense of quality education. This was a fleeting period of slight uncertainty for the sector.
In 2010, state policymaking re-endorsed mass international education in China. Study in China was to be built into a global education brand.
The plan specified annual enrolment targets, culminating in 500,000 students in 2020. This included 150,000 degree-seeking students. Yearly targets were set to develop exemplary sites, programs and courses for international education.
Subsequent state policies focused on legal, financial and administrative improvements. Increasing funding was made available through national, local, government and corporate scholarships and stipends for international students.
Education’s place in a broader global strategy
The mid-2010s defined the orientation of international education in China. The Study in China Initiative was subsumed under the new global strategy, the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). It is a “road map” for China’s higher education to step onto the world stage.
Study in China is part of the core political discourse of national rejuvenation.
We can see this in the official 2019 Study in China Guide. The guide depicts the BRI as a core strength and essential knowledge about China. It powerfully demonstrates China’s market aspirations and appeal to international students.
The official Study in China Guide makes it clear international education is part of the Belt and Road Initiative.Study in China Guide
The Chinese government’s Silk Road Scholarship Program sponsors 10,000 new international students a year from countries participating in the Belt and Road Initiative. Universities can apply for state funding to run a BRI talent development site for large cohorts of these students.
Research grant schemes fund studies that improve the quality of international education, while supporting BRI work in infrastructure, trade, culture and diplomacy.
The Belt and Road Initiative is central to China’s rapid shift from major importer to rising exporter of international education. In 2017, 317,200 international students came from BRI countries, 64.85% of the total.
Focus shifts to quality assurance
Quality improvement was not new in the policy discourse on Study in China. However, substantive progress has been made since 2017.
Compared to its 2000 version, the 2017 Administrative Measures for the Enrolment and Development of International Students by Universities and Schools (Order 42) emphasised systematic quality enhancement in four areas:
development of relevant university regulations
rigorous assessments for admissions and scholarships
systematic planning of teaching and staff development
development of quality control mechanisms.
The 2018 Quality Assurance Standards for Higher Education of International Students is the first of its kind in China. The 2019 Quality Accreditation Rules for International Higher Education established China’s first external qualification accreditation and assurance system for international education.
One quality indicator concerns the composition of international students. Degree-seeking students became the majority (52.44%) of international students in China for the first time in 2018. Their numbers had increased by more than 350% from 36,387 in 2006 to 178,271 in 2018. They include bachelor, master and doctoral students who study abroad for at least one year.
International students enrolled for degrees in China increased in number by more than 350% from 2006 to 2018.Shutterstock
A balancing act for Chinese universities
Chinese universities have benefited from the escalating scale and influence of the Study in China Initiative.
However, my research shows they are under the stress of having to respond to multiple, often competing pressures.
An example of this is academic language and associated ideological tension. English is the dominant language in the academic world and in global trade. Most international students in Chinese universities study in English-taught programs.
But shifting political and community perceptions of the English language have stepped up internal pressures on Chinese universities. The legitimacy of English as the lingua nullius of global knowledge production is under challenge.
Another clear policy shift encourages convergent management of domestic and international students. There is pressure to integrate international students into the regular operations of Chinese universities. The rise in international student numbers has created a need to increase managerial efficiency.
This shift is also a response to community perception. International students benefit from more flexible testing arrangements and greater access to elite universities and scholarships, compared to domestic students. International students are spared the gruelling competition of Gaokao, the national college entrance examination.
In addition, breaches of rules and regulations by international students have often gone unaddressed.
Chinese universities are having to weigh up competing considerations of state aspiration, market appeal, corporate consolidation, professional enhancement and community pressures.
The impacts of a closed border and recent floods have highlighted the challenges facing older Australians who live permanently in caravan parks and manufactured home estates. These properties have long provided affordable housing for retirees, particularly those who rely on the age pension and have limited assets or housing equity. Residents typically own their caravan or mobile home and pay a regular site rental.
Two trends are emerging as problems for these residents:
caravan parks and manufactured home estates are undergoing “gentrification” as they transform into high-end domestic tourism (with border closures boosting demand) and lifestyle estates
many properties that house older Australians are increasingly exposed to natural hazards such as fire and floods.
The interrelated issues of a shortage of affordable housing, development in hazard-affected locations and gentrification are funnelling the most disadvantaged Australians into the most problematic locations. Recent fieldwork in the Hastings and Manning river regions of New South Wales identified a number of caravan parks and manufactured home estates close to or even next to rivers that had been flooded. The most flood-affected properties tended to be those with the most affordable housing.
Dunbogan Caravan Park in northern New South Wales during the March 2021 floods.Image: David Wainwright, Author provided
The sector is far from homogenous. Properties range from expensive upmarket holiday parks and lifestyle estates to permanent residents in caravan parks and older manufactured home estates.
Large caravan park operators, such as Big 4 Holiday Parks and Discovery Parks, provide an upmarket holiday option. These feature manicured lawns and offer cabins, glamping and powered sites. On-site management provides regularly cleaned communal cooking facilities and ablution blocks.
Many feature panoramic views of oceans and waterways, which add to the upmarket offering. Operators focus on properties where maximum value can be extracted from holidaymakers. These have come a long way from the cheap caravan parks with dry grass, a few trees and rundown amenities.
The industry has also benefited from international border closures resulting in a boom in Australians holidaying at home.
But these trends leaves little room for permanent residents – especially low-income residents – as tourists are unlikely to pay premium prices to stay in parks with retirees in second-hand caravans. Operators usually partition permanent residents from the holidaymakers or, increasingly, remove permanent residents altogether.
Manufactured home estates are also gentrifying. They are increasingly branded as over-50s estates, with resort-style facilities including community centres and swimming pools. The operators include listed organisations Ingenia, Stockland and Lifestyle Communities, and private organisations Hampshire Villages and National Lifestyle Villages.
Manufactured home estate living is advertised as being affordable, as relocatable homes are exempt from stamp duty, land tax and council rates. But advertised prices for relocatable homes in lifestyle estates can be over $700,000 and are anything but affordable for people on lower incomes.
By requiring incoming residents to buy new and used homes through them, operators can achieve profit margins and agency fees. The more expensive the relocatable home, the higher the margins and fees. This is why operators have moved relentlessly upmarket.
Many lifestyle estate operators have embarked on significant expansion programs. They are actively buying up and redeveloping caravan parks and manufactured home estates. This leaves a shrinking pool of properties, owned by smaller operators, that still offer affordable housing.
Caravan parks and manufactured home estates are not classed as permanent housing. This means they can be developed on a wider range of sites, including hazard-affected land.
Sites close to beaches and waterways have long been popular as they provide recreational amenity to holidaymakers and residents. The flip side is that these locations are more prone to natural hazards such as storms and flooding.
Large operators have selectively bought up caravan parks and manufactured home estates to create more upmarket offerings. As they spend money upgrading communal facilities and ablution blocks, their preference has been for properties that are not hazard-affected.
As a result, many of the caravan parks and manufactured home estates that remain affordable housing are in the most hazard-affected locations.
Dunbogan Caravan Park, pictured after the flood, remains affordable but that comes with a risk for residents.Lois Towart, Author provided
What happens when disaster strikes?
During the recent floods in the Port Macquarie, Old Bar and Hawkesbury regions of NSW, it was permanent residents in caravan parks and non-lifestyle manufactured home estates who were most badly affected.
For many of these residents, the caravan or relocatable home (and its contents) was their major asset. While some may initially float, the water-damaged dwelling is usually uninhabitable. There is often little left to salvage.
Local governments, in addition to the cost of repairing damaged infrastructure, now have to deal with increasing numbers of homeless people. Many have to rely on the generosity of the local community.
A creative solution, putting housing on stilts, in in Riverside Residential Village, Port Macquarie.Image: Lois Towart, Author provided
For example, a manufactured home estate in Port Macquarie, Riverside Residential Village, is on a flood-prone site. The solution is relocatable dwellings on stilts. The space underneath can then be used for car parking and storage. However, some older people might find the stairs a bit of a problem.
This story is part of a series The Conversation is running on the nexus between disaster, disadvantage and resilience. You can read the rest of the stories here.
We have recently seen a spate of books defending the Enlightenment, that period of efflorescence, in 18th-century Europe, which helped shape the modern world.
At the vanguard has been the Harvard psychologist Steven Pinker, who titled his most recent monument to scientific progress Enlightenment Now. The book earned Bill Gates’s endorsement but was widely criticised by historians since it was not an assessment of the Enlightenment at all, but a compilation of data showing us why life was now better than ever.
Other advocates have been more subtle, stressing that what set the Enlightenment apart from preceding eras was less its confidence in reason per se, than its focus on the secular (as opposed to the sacred) as the space in which happiness ought to be pursued and quite possibly achieved.
Readers might wonder: who could be against this? But Pinker and his allies are pushing back on a tendency to see in the overweening self-confidence of the Enlightenment a blueprint for the horrors of the 20th century. The view is not without merit. The Enlightenment may have given us a new way to think about rights, but it also gave us the atom bomb.
Moreover, its conviction the same naturalistic perspective that led to scientific innovation could be applied to populations has given rise to social engineering in multiple, often sinister forms.
This year marks the 300th anniversary of the publication of a book that contemporaries saw as inaugurating the Enlightenment in France: Montesquieu’s Persian Letters.
Given its exalted status, one would expect to find in Persian Letters an ode to human ingenuity and a confident projection of progress. But its contents are much more surprising — and relevant — than that.
The book’s author, Charles-Louis de Secondat, Baron de La Brède et de Montesquieu — Montesquieu, for short — was an odd sort, an aristocrat with a sympathy for republics and a voracious intellectual appetite.
Born in 1689, he came of age at a time of French predominance in Europe. A lawyer by training, he began writing during the “Regency”, a period of social dynamism that followed the death in 1715 of Louis XIV, the Sun King, when his great-grandson Louis XV was too young to rule on his own.
A new kind of fiction
In 1721 Montesquieu introduced France to a new kind of fiction, a novel composed entirely of letters, mainly authored by Usbek and Rica, two Persians who have travelled to Paris and delight in reporting their bemusement at its customs. The device allows Montesquieu to make the more familiar features of European life appear idiosyncratic.
An anonymous painting of Charles de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu.Wikimedia Commons
The nature of the work also gives Montesquieu ample space to deal with subjects that still divide us: the varieties of government, the extravagances of metaphysical speculation, and the dilemmas of tolerance.
In this regard, we can see Persian Letters as a set of working notes for the book that earned Montesquieu his place among the giants of modern political thought: The Spirit of the Laws, published in 1748. With its case for a “separation of powers” as crucial to a well-functioning republic, this volume inspired Thomas Jefferson and the authors of the US constitution.
Providing a typology of regimes — republics, monarchies, despotisms — and tracing their relationship to material factors from climate to geography, The Spirit of the Laws more or less launched the discipline of political sociology. More prophetic still was the book’s concern for how despotism lies in wait for any regime that sees a loss of civic virtue.
All of this material is dealt with ironically in Persian Letters. The worry about despotism is signalled through what passes for a plot in the book. As Usbek becomes accustomed to Parisian society, he becomes distant from his seraglio (or harem) in Persia.
Persian miniature by Hossein Behzad.Iranian National Museum.
A revolt ensues in which the women, corrupted by having to live in a degraded state and no longer fearful of their absent authority, stage a bloody uprising. The story ends with a letter from Usbek’s favourite wife Roxane, who is committing suicide, pen in hand.
Constant vigilance
This ghastly conclusion makes for an instructive contrast with the playful tone otherwise permeating the book. Throughout the letters, there is much mirth at Frenchmen who distract themselves with philosophical rumination while their society becomes mired in conflict and sedition.
The irony is to the point; political stability is a matter of constant vigilance, irrespective of the nature of the regime in question.
With his portrayal of the seraglio, a question insists: is Montesquieu indulging in Orientalism, a projection of his Western prejudices on to figures from the East?
Perhaps. And yet Montesquieu never loses sight of the fictional nature of his construction. To see Europe through the eyes of another is to imagine yourself in the position of the other, not to occupy it.
Not coincidentally, this relationship between how we present ourselves and who we are is one of the key themes of the work.
In one of the early letters, Rica recounts the wonder he aroused walking the streets of Paris.
I therefore resolved to set aside my Persian clothing and dress instead as a European, to see whether anything in my appearance would still astonish. From this test, I learnt my true worth: stripped of my exotic finery, I found myself appraised at my real value, and I had good reason to complain of my tailor, through whom I’d lost, in an instant, the attention and esteem of the public.
In reflecting on whether the clothes make the man, Rica suggests the social nature of our identities. In effect, we are as we are seen. But recognising this fact only increases Rica’s desire for public approval.
Elsewhere Usbek remarks that in order to remain powerful a monarch must supply not only necessities, but luxuries. And yet the obsession with luxury — both as a pleasurable experience and opulent display — affects or indeed infects everything, even religion, which is mercilessly pilloried throughout Persian Letters.
Louis XV in Coronation Robes, Hyacinthe Rigaud, 1730.Wikimedia Commons
The society Montesquieu satirises is one in which moral debates fail to find resolution because agreement is hardly the goal; vindication is. The need for social vindication breeds conflict. We seek out peers who advance what we take to be our interests rather than working with others to discover sites of common interest.
In this aspect, the paint on Usbek and Rica’s portrait of modern life hardly seems dry.
“The reader is urged to note,” Montesquieu wrote in a later edition of Persian Letters, “that the entire charm of the work resides in the constantly recurring contrast between actual reality and the singular, naïve, or strange manner in which reality is perceived”.
The mirror Montesquieu presents to society is one in which its vanities appear in all their absurdity.
With earnestness an increasingly dominant virtue in today’s culture wars, we’d likewise do well to rediscover the charm, indeed the humility, in appreciating the inevitably partial nature of our views.
More than celebrations of science or promises of progress — both of which tend to a self-righteousness foreign to Persian Letters — this seems to be a form of enlightenment we could use, for now.
A Labor government would provide support for aspiring young entrepreneurs to spend a business-focused year working with a university or private sector incubator to develop their startup enterprise or idea.
The Startup Year proposal, in Anthony Albanese’s Thursday night budget reply, would offer places for up to 2000 students. The scheme would run for a year, with the opportunity to scale up
Labor’s industry spokesman Ed Husic said the goal would be “to increase the number and scale of new high-growth firms that are creating economic growth, innovation, and good quality jobs for the future”.
Incubators and accelerators exist in a range of universities as well as in the private sector to help entrepreneurs with their startups. The students would be able to get mentoring on commercialisation, financing and business management.
Deakin University says of its program: “For those teams who are ready to take their startups to the next level, SPARK Deakin’s Accelerator Program provides funding, co-working space, connections, mentorship and expertise to accelerate the enterprise. We create an outlet for creative talent to collaborate together and take ideas to market.”
Labor’s Startup Year student loans would be delivered through the existing HELP scheme, and would be designed to cover costs associated with participating in the program. The money could be used for professional development and the manufacturing of prototypes.
The current maximum amount of the relevant loan band is $11,300.
Labor points out that in the Global Innovation Index, Australia has fallen four places to 23 since 2013.
The opposition says the startup sector is a big generator of jobs in the United States and Europe. But, it says, Australia is languishing with one of the lowest startup formation rates in the world.
“It is Australian startups in areas like manufacturing, medicine, IT and clean energy that will build the Australian industries of tomorrow,” Albanese said.
Tuesday’s big spending budget – which some commentators have noted could have been comfortably delivered by a Labor government – has made Albanese’s task difficult in pitching his Thursday reply.
Albanese will home in on the forecasts of continued low wage growth, in a speech set to contain, on the policy front, one major announcement as well as smaller ones.
Despite speculation the budget might signal an election this year, Scott Morrison on Wednesday repeated that it will be next year. The election must be held by May 2022.
Asked on the ABC about the election timing, Morrison said, “The contest I’m focused on is fighting this pandemic to ensure we can protect the lives and livelihoods of Australians.
“I will leave the politics to others. As I’ve said, the election is next year. I can’t foresee all the circumstances that can contribute to things like that in this country. But my focus isn’t on that.”
He used similar forms of words in other interviews.
This year’s budget, handed down on Tuesday, boasts plenty of winners and minimal direct losers. Spending is lavish, with the government doing its utmost to avoid offending voters.
The big spending commitments include:
$17.7 billion for aged care over five years
$2.3 billion for mental health
$1.7 billion in changes to childcare
$1.1 billion for women’s safety
$1.9 billion for the rollout of the COVID vaccine
$20.7 billion in support for business through tax breaks
$2.7 billion in new apprenticeships
$15 billion over a decade for infrastructure
$1.2 billion for the promotion of a digital economy.
Simon Birmingham, finance minister, and Jim Chalmers, shadow treasurer, are our post-budget guests on the podcast.
This is Birmingham’s first budget as finance minister. Usually, it’s the finance minister’s unpopular task to find spending cuts – but this time, these are minimal. Birmingham’s message to critics on the right of politics, who are claiming the government has given up the debt fight, is:
“You don’t manage to achieve budget sustainability and ultimately balanced budgets some time down the track without actually maintaining and having a strong economy that has strong jobs growth. And so this time, where we have an uncertain international environment [and] fragility in terms of confidence, because of those global uncertainties, we need to make sure we maintain the COVID recovery.”
And he notes, “debt is actually forecast to be lower over each of the next 10 years than was the case in last year’s budget.”
The budget includes assumptions that the international border will open around mid-2022, and that the Australian population would be fully vaccinated by the end of this year. Asked how “solid” these assumptions are, Birmingham says:
“We have used best assumptions that we think are cautious assumptions and realistic ones. But we equally acknowledge with honesty that these are challenging times, uncertain times.
“And so they are just that – assumptions.”
On the issue of debt, Chalmers says it’s not just the level of the debt that matters, “it’s the quality of the spending”.
He says the budget is “riddled with rorts” and “weighed down with waste”.
“There are new slush funds in last night’s budget, and that means we’re not getting the bang for buck that we need to be getting in terms of jobs and other other important objectives.”
Labor has homed in on flat wages, arguing working Australia’s are “copping a cut in their real wages”.
Ultimately, the budget has failed working people, says Chalmers.
“If the government is prepared to intervene in the economy as they have been and spray around what is an extraordinary amount of money, then you’d think that working people would actually get a slice of the recovery.”
“It’s a pretty extraordinary admission of failure.”
Māori Party co-leader Rawiri Waititi has been ejected from New Zealand’s Parliament for doing a haka in protest against questions by the Opposition about race-based policy.
Opposition conservative National Party leader Judith Collins was asking Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern about her views of the He Puapua report, which provides recommendations to the government about how it can give effect to Māori self-sovereignty under the 1840 Treaty of Waitangi.
Waititi called on the Speaker of the House Trevor Mallard to intervene on what he called “racist propaganda” against Māori in the House.
Mallard ruled the views expressed in the House did not reach an inappropriate standard.
He warned Waititi when he raised another point of order that relitigation would put him at risk of expulsion from the House.
Waititi said views on indigenous rights should only be determined by the indigenous tangata whenua – which he followed up with a haka.
He was expelled from the House.
Green MPs Marama Davidson (co-leader) and Ricardo Menéndez backed Waititi’s action with Davidson tweeting support for the “calling out [of] the absolute ongoing racist comments” by Collins.
Kia ora @packer_deb and @Rawiri_Waititi for calling out the absolute ongoing racist comments from Judith Collins in the House just now. This House absolutely deserves better than a narrative that harms tangata whenua communities and damages a pathway for true Tiriti justice.
— Marama Davidson MP (@MaramaDavidson) May 12, 2021
Solidarity with @packer_deb & @Rawiri_Waititi for challenging racism in the House and reminding us that how we discuss policy can result in real harm to the communities we serve.
The food we eat, the clothes we wear, the air we breathe, the water we drink – it’s all underpinned by healthy and productive soils. Since Europeans arrived in Australia, the continent’s soil has steadily been degraded. Yet, until now, we’ve lacked an integrated national approach to managing this valuable and finite resource.
That changed in last night’s federal budget, when Treasurer Josh Frydenberg announced almost A$200 million for a National Soils Strategy. The 20-year plan recognises the vital role of soils for environmental and human health, the economy, food security, biodiversity and climate resilience.
Our soils face a range of threats, including the loss of prime agricultural land, erosion, acidification, salt accumulation, contamination and carbon loss. Climate change also puts pressure on our soils through through droughts, storms, bushfires and floods.
We contributed expertise as the soil policy was being developed, and believe the final strategy represents a long-needed turning point for this crucial natural asset.
Australia’s soils have been degrading since European settlement.Shutterstock
Why soil matters
Soil contains organic matter, minerals, gases, water and living organisms. It is slow to form – the average rate of soil production globally is around 114 millimetres per 1,000 years – and is considered a non-renewable resource.
Soil underpins a myriad of economic activities. In Australia, it directly contributes about A$63 billion each year to the economy through agriculture production alone.
Healthy soil is necessary for:
food and fibre production
filtering water and retaining sediment to ensure healthy landscapes
maintaining air quality by preventing dust storms
carbon storage to help mitigate climate change
environmental functions such as plant growth
human nutrition (soil provides nutrients to plants and animals which are transferred to humans once consumed)
many drugs and vaccines upon which humans rely, such as penicillin
safe infrastructure (acid sulfate soils and salinity can damage structures such as housing, bridges and roads)
resilience to natural disasters such as storms, bushfires, floods and droughts.
However, land degradation, climate change and poor management practices threaten our soil resources.
Until now, Australia has lacked a nationally consistent approach to monitor soil health, nor a readily accessible means of storing that data. That means at a national level, our understanding of soil condition, and how it’s changed, has been limited.
Soil monitoring has largely been conducted through various regional, state and federal programs. These often operate in isolation and have differing aims and objectives. And overall investment has not been large or quick enough to create broad improvements in soil health.
In comparison, well-established standardised national systems exist to monitor terrestrial ecosystems, weather, climate and water. These allow an assessment of longer trends and changes to baseline conditions.
The need for a national soil assessment was recognised as far back as 2008. And there have long been calls for long-term monitoring, consistent information and baseline data collection.
The funding will help farmers monitor the health of their soil.Shutterstock
Change from the ground up
Importantly, the strategy takes a long term view of sustainable soil management. It also considers soil beyond its traditional role in agricultural production and explicitly identifies criteria to measure progress.
The strategy has three arms:
1. Prioritise soil health
This goal takes a “soils first” approach in that sustainable soil management is the primary consideration in policy development and management strategies. This recognises how environmental and agricultural problems can start with poor soil management and create further challenges. For example, soil acidification can lead to declines in terrestrial biodiversity, and soil constraints must be addressed first to arrest this.
2. Empower soil stewards and innovation
This approach gives incentives to farmers and other land managers, such as rebates for sampling to determine the soil carbon levels. Carbon is an important measure of soil condition. Gathering such information will help land managers arrest the decline in soil condition, enhancing productivity and soil health.
3. Secure soil science
This approach aims to increase soil knowledge through standardised data collection, management and storage. It will allow for more informed decisions using reliable, up-to-date, accessible information.
Part of this aim involves strengthening training and accreditation programs, and integrating soils into the national school curriculum. This will help create a new generation of soil experts to replace the current crop which is trending to retirement.
The strategy aims to train a new generation of soil experts.Shutterstock
On solid ground
Overall, the National Soils Strategy aims to deliver coordinated on-ground action and improve research, education and monitoring. The strategy broadly aligns with the needs of those who had input into its development, including governments, industry, academia, Landcare groups and non-government organisations.
However, while the importance of Indigenous land management practices is clearly acknowledged, the integration and incorporation of these practices should be more clearly defined.
The monitoring program encourages farmers to test their soil and incorporate the de-identified results in to the national database. Care should be taken to ensure sampling is done appropriately for the data to be useful.
The time frame for the initial phase of the strategy is short – pilot programs need to be delivered between two and four years. This will be challenging to deliver.
Separate to the strategy, the budget allocated A$59.6 million to soil carbon initiatives. There is increasing recognition of how improved land use and management can help boost soil carbon stores, which is key to tackling climate change. But storing carbon permanently in soils comes with a number of challenges. This funding may be appropriate only if directed to address those areas where knowledge gaps exist.
But overall, the strategy fills a vital gap – providing a national vision and shared goals for managing precious soils across Australia.
Last week, out of left field, the government placed a three-year embargo on normal public sector wage bargaining, essentially a salary freeze. While there has been a certain amount of backtracking since, it is clear that the government has been very committed to ‘fiscal consolidation’ (aka ‘austerity’).
What were they thinking? What problem were they trying to solve?
Some governments are obsessed with their own debt levels, and prioritise the reduction of their own household debt over the economic management of the country. Such governments set themselves on a path of opting out of governance; it would be like teachers opting to save their employers money by not teaching.
Debt is a relationship.
The New Zealand government sees itself as a debtor who has gained recent favours from begrudging creditors who would really much rather spend their money on themselves, or lend that money to parties other than the government.
In real life, debt occurs as a contract between two parties who are both advantaged by that relationship; the parties to each contract are creditor (who owns the debt, as an asset) and the debtor (who owes the debt, as a liability).
The debt relationship that almost everyone is familiar with is depositing money in a bank. Householders are creditors, and banks are debtors, in this relationship.
Who decides when the relationship ends? It is normally the creditors who end (or diminish) the relationship, by withdrawing their money. Indeed it would seem very weird if the banks that we lend to keep trying to ‘pay us back’. Rather the banks expect to service their debt to us by paying us interest, and by allowing us to withdraw when we want to withdraw. (We all understand that, if most of a bank’s depositors want to recall their funds on the same day, then the bank would be unable to comply; banks, like almost all other debtors, invest – ie lend so someone else can spend – their borrowed funds. Banks are, indeed, intermediaries; we expect them to invest the funds we deposit with them, so that they can pay us interest.)
So, in life out of the public finance rabbithole, it is creditors who initiate the debt repayment process. The obligation of a debtor is to service the debt, including making sufficient provision to satisfy those creditors seeking repayment.
Government Debt
In the case of government debt, the creditor is essentially the wholesale banking system. Do we see any signs of our wholesale bankers asking government to reduce its liability to them? Of course not! Government debt is a mutually advantageous arrangement between creditor and debtor. Government action to reduce its debt to the banks would be like banks acting to get households to reduce their bank term deposits. Dumb and dumb.
Banks (in the broadest sense of this term) like to lend to – invest in – five sectors: businesses, unsecured consumers, asset holders, governments, and foreigners (especially foreign banks). They like to expand rather than to contract their balance sheets; ie to lend more to their customers, not less.
Conservative economists strongly emphasise banks’ lending to businesses; and deemphasise banks’ lending to governments. That is, they see it as right and proper that businesses – collectively – should have large and expanding debts, and that indeed it is business debt (aka business investment) that drives economic growth. So it is they – not the banks – who see bad government debt as ‘crowding out’ good business debt. That’s the source of the general opprobrium towards government debt, and that opprobrium resonates with the many householders who wrongly think of debt as an inconvenience to their creditors.
Who should the debtors be?
The whole capitalist system – with banking at its core – depends on debt. The majority of people who believe in economic growth necessarily also believe that total debt must be expanding.
Conservative economists at least have a consistent position; that business debt (lending to business) is good, that certain types of secured debt are also good (specifically house mortgages and hire purchase), and that a degree of foreign lending is also good. In the twenty-first century this ‘good-debt bad-debt’ thinking, however, represents another rabbit hole. The reality since the turn of the century is that the global corporates have become a creditor sector; in the aggregate, businesses now save more than they invest.
Bankers, unlike conservative economists, are indifferent. They will lend, rationally, on the basis of risk and reward.
For banks, lending to businesses is risky, because it is ‘secured’ only on the future revenues of their business customers; in an increasingly uncertain world, those revenues are also increasingly uncertain. Banks compensate for such ‘lack of security’ risks, by charging their business customers higher interest rates. While substantial business debt is an economic necessity, banks, as creditors, do sometimes recall that debt. (As the saying goes, a banker will lend you an umbrella when its sunny, but may ask you to repay it when it is raining.)
Also risky is unsecured consumer lending. (And semi-secured lending, in which a debtor’s likely future salary is the security.) This also drives the 21st century economy, especially in the form of credit card debt. The high risk is compensated for by charging high interest rates. Debtors like to repay these debts as quickly as possible, because of the high servicing costs associated with high interest borrowing. Creditors in this market need to keep finding new debtors to compensate for the repayments of existing debtors.
Secured lending is widely favoured by modern banks. This is lending secured by assets such as shares, land, houses, managed funds, and consumer durables. The problem here is that it fuels speculative behaviour through inflating the prices of those assets, especially, shares and land. Thus, too much of this type of lending is revealed as systemically unstable when asset prices periodically deflate. Banks which consider themselves too big to fail tend to give insufficient weight to this problem when they decide who to lend to. Thus, generally, this type of lending is seen by banks as less risky than the previous two categories. Interestingly, however, in the late-2000s’ financial crisis, the finance companies (included as ‘banks’ in this discussion) which failed were those doing secured lending; while few if any of the finance companies lending to the poor at high interest rates failed, some positively thrived).
A keenness to lend to foreigners – as some countries in northern Europe and East Asia like to do – is a political mercantilist strategy; historically prevalent as a political strategy, but not necessarily profit-maximising to banks. An important form of foreign lending is lending to banks in other countries. Indeed, when interest rates have been higher in New Zealand than in Australia, to maximise profits the Australian banks would lend to their New Zealand counterparts. In effect, much New Zealand mortgage debt was owned by Australian creditors.
Government debt has always been popular with banks. While it is low return, it is also low risk. Central Government debt is secured by the governments’ unique powers, the power of taxation. Even governments facing political constraints on raising taxes are seen as secure debtors because of their special reserve powers to tax their subjects. Governments are – and should be – borrowers of choice in times of emergency or great uncertainty.
Whenever capitalist economies face high levels of risk, banks prefer to lend more to governments. There is an ensuing natural feedback mechanism, in that non-corrupt government spending facilitated by increased government debt serves to reduce the amount of risk in the wider economy. The reduced risk then facilitates renewed lending to non-government unsecured and semi-secured debtors. The resulting private spending then results in more (tax) revenue to governments, and government debt to bankers automatically falls relative to the size of the economy.
One of the most destabilising types of event in financial history occurs when governments try to upset this benign arrangement by repaying debt to their banker creditors who do not want to be repaid, and who do not have enough good unsecured and semi-secured alternative debtors lined up. In this situation, economies may directly go into a state of depression – as in the 1930s, and as in the European Union in the early 2010s. Or, to forestall economic depression, banks may be induced into more of the speculative secured lending that creates financial bubbles, financial instability, and eventually economic depression.
This is the inept financial destabilisation that the present New Zealand government is indulging in. It’s a classic case of a lose-lose financial policy. When governments obsess about their financial deficits in uncertain times, everyone loses. Salaried workers lose, the poor lose, bankers lose (eventually), and governments lose.
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Keith Rankin, trained as an economic historian, is a retired lecturer in Economics and Statistics. He lives in Auckland, New Zealand.
The federal budget’s allocation of A$2.3 billion in mental health and suicide prevention funding will be welcome news for the mental health services sector and for people who have struggled to find adequate support.
The recent Productivity Commission and Victorian Royal Commission reports into mental health have emphasised the major effect of mental ill health on Australian society, as well as the public’s concerns about the inadequacies of existing service provision.
The big expenditure items announced in the budget for mental health largely involve increasing treatment services, including:
A$487 million to establish a national network of adult mental health centres
A$278 million for the expansion of Headspace youth services
A$288 million for repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation (rTMS), a treatment for depression
more than A$100 million each for digital mental health services and group therapy, supporting the participation of family and carers.
Although in time these pledges are likely to make it easier for many people to access mental health services, it’s important to understand this won’t necessarily translate to improved mental health in Australia.
It’s a logical assumption that greater expenditure on mental health treatment services will improve mental health. But it’s an uncomfortable truth that neither Australia, nor any other comparable country, has managed to improve the mental health of its population by increasing the provision of mental health services.
However, over this period, the Australian Bureau of Statistics has been tracking our national mental health — and it hasn’t improved at all. For young people, if anything there’s been a worsening in recent years. Further, the suicide rate has been trending up.
Treasurer Josh Frydenberg has handed down the 2021-2022 federal budget, and it includes A$2.3 billion for mental health.Mick Tsikas/AAP
Not necessarily the right services for the right people
There is plenty of evidence from randomised controlled trials showing treatments can work. For example, a range of psychological treatments can be effective for depression and anxiety disorders. Also, antidepressants can be helpful for people with more severe depression or anxiety.
However, what people get in practice is not necessarily what’s evaluated in trials, nor is it generally consistent with the standards experts set in clinical practice guidelines.
For example, people typically receive far fewer sessions of psychological therapy than recommended despite the increasing availability of services. Similarly, GPs often prescribe antidepressant medications for people with milder problems who are unlikely to benefit from this type of treatment.
We need greater quality of services
In the past, we’ve seen that increasing services leads to progressively more people receiving services that are too thinly spread or poorly targeted to make a real difference. What we need is to improve the quality of services for people with more severe problems and increase the availability of self-help options for people with milder problems as an alternative to specialist mental health services.
We don’t know whether the additional services funded in the budget will make a difference. It’s important we focus on the longer-term benefits of these services to mental health rather than on the immediate increases in services the money will buy.
Pleasingly, the budget does allocate A$117 million to establish a national database on service delivery, performance and outcomes across the mental health system. This will help pave the way to a greater focus on whether the services are making a difference to national mental health.
Another reason past government expenditure has not improved national mental health is that prevention has been neglected.
This budget takes some small steps in the right direction in this regard, with some focus on childhood, where mental health problems often begin. There’s A$46 million allocated to parenting education and support, and A$54 million to establish child mental health and well-being hubs.
Establishing child mental health and well-being hubs is a positive step in terms of preventing mental ill-health.Shutterstock
There is also expenditure in other areas that will reduce risk factors for mental health problems, including sexual abuse, family violence, homelessness and unemployment. However, the balance of mental health spending is still very much on treatment rather than prevention.
The long haul: fulfilling the Productivity Commission’s vision
The Productivity Commission’s final report on mental health, released in November last year, set out a grand vision for major reform. It recognised that improving mental health required action across many areas of government, not just treatment services.
The danger was always that the Commission’s recommendations would be cherry picked in budgets and election promises, and the grand vision lost. While this latest federal budget has some promising offerings for mental health, the grand vision remains to be fulfilled.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Jo Caust, Associate Professor and Principal Fellow (Hon), School of Culture and Communication, The University of Melbourne
The arts were in free fall this time last year. COVID-19 restrictions had shut everything down and artists and arts organisations were reeling from a dramatic loss of income, as well as the prospect of a bleak future. Somewhat belatedly, the federal government offered various forms of assistance from late June onwards.
Given the continuing challenges, has the government brought the arts in from the cold in Tuesday‘s budget? The budget statement notes the effects of the pandemic on the creative and cultural sector “have been severe” and the sector “continues to feel the effects of COVID‑19 as social restrictions are eased.”
The budget delivered around $300 million to “help activate and support the successful re‑opening of Australia’s creative and cultural sector”.
It is encouraging the government has admitted to the challenges facing the sector. But has it really come to the rescue with new money, or is it playing with the figures? There are some winners here, but sadly, overall, not a huge amount has changed.
At the same time, important national entities, such as the National Archives, are ignored. The ABC (funded triennially) will receive an increase of $4.7 million (0.45% of its budget), but will then see its budget decline by 0.85% in 2022-23. Is the government trying to slowly erode the ABC in the longer term?
The Australian Film and Television School will also lose $2.3 million (9.3% of its budget), a sizeable amount for a relatively small operation. Screen Australia, however, receives an increase of $17.6 million (19.5% of its budget). SBS also gets an increase of $13 million (4.4%). However, this SBS funding is also expected to decline after 2021-22.
Many initiatives in this $300 million have already been announced. The extra $125 million for the arts COVID package RISE was announced in March and we were told on the weekend about an extra $79.9 million for Australia’s national collecting institutions.
There is a new Regional Arts Fund of $3 million for local museums, galleries and historical societies and another fund of $11.4 million for other regional arts activity. In April, Arts Minister Paul Fletcher spoke of a desire to re-allocate arts funding from the city to the regional areas.
A further $10 million has been provided to Support Act, to help musicians and road crew with financial or health problems. They were given $10 million in April 2020 for the same purpose.
Bluesfest was cancelled at the eleventh hour this year due to Covid.Jason O’Brien/AAP
$7.4 million for the Australian National Maritime Museum
$7.1 million for the Bundanon Trust
$11.3 million for the Museum of Australian Democracy at Old Parliament House
$2 million for the National Film and Sound Archive
$34.6 million for the National Gallery of Australia
$9.9 million for the National Library of Australia
$6 million for the National Museum of Australia
$1.6 million for the National Portrait Gallery of Australia.
While $32.4 million of this will go towards delivery of public services and programs, a further $47.5 million is provided for capital works.
The Museum of Australian Democracy at Old Parliament House is a winner here. So too is the Bundanon Trust, which thrives under this government. Perhaps it helps to be located in a marginal seat.
The increase for the National Gallery of Australia is particularly welcome, given in 2020-21 its funding was cut by $7.8 million (or over 9% of its budget). However, out of $34.6 million, most of this ($28.6 million) is for capital maintenance.
Visitors admire Sunflowers by Vincent Van Gogh at the National Gallery of Australia in Canberra earlier this year.Mick Tsikas/AAP
The film sector has received more targeted support; much already announced. In March, we learned $20 million would support independent cinemas across Australia. In April, another $50.8 million was allocated to extend the Temporary Interruption Fund to help restart film production put on hold in 2020. A further $75 million will reinstate the producer offset rate for film, which provides a tax rebate for producers of up to 40% .
An extra $11.9 million will also be given to the Australian Children’s Television Foundation, spread over four years from 2021-22.
What about individual artists?
In 2021-22, the Australia Council will receive almost $219.8 million, an increase of around $5 million (or around 2%) on 2020-21 funding. It is described in the budget papers as representing “indexation, net of the applicable annual efficiency dividend, and $3.6 million to provide a non-recurring uplift to the Playing Australia program”.
The RISE Scheme has now had three rounds of funding allocations. By May 2021, $100 million had been allocated (leaving a balance of $100 million to the end of this year). Most funding ($83.4 million) has gone to the performing arts (theatre, music and dance), with $12.6 million for the visual arts, $2.4 million to literature and $1.5 million to film. $25.5 million out of this has been allocated to activities in regional areas.
Individual artists, most disadvantaged by COVID, have continued to receive the least additional support. Sadly, it will be some time before normal arts activity resumes in Australia, especially music concerts or festivals.
Midnight Oil toured in January this year but many musicians and artists have struggled at this time.Dan Himbcrechts/AAP
While it is encouraging to see the government mention the arts in its budget, given its “disappearing” of the arts over the past two years, it needs to address the whole complex ecosystem of the arts, rather than one or two aspects of it. It also needs to increase funding to the Australia Council so individual artists and small organisations get adequate support.
The Government’s wage subsidy scheme may have incorrectly paid out billions of dollars to ineligible businesses, and this is not being audited. That’s the conclusion to be taken from the Auditor General’s report, released yesterday. It is highly critical about the lack of checks and balances on a scheme that has doled out $14bn to businesses.
Although some reports see it as simply an issue of bureaucratic management, it has huge financial consequences for the state, and for public trust in government. Auditor General John Ryan says the money being paid out in what critics warned was “corporate welfare” has not actually been audited, and the public cannot have confidence that the Government is on top of this.
The issue goes back to the launch of the wage subsidy scheme, when questions were raised about whether the scheme would be vulnerable to fraud and corruption, and cost much more than was required to keep the economy going. In response to these concerns, the Government promised audits would take place. Since then, whenever critics have again questioned the probity of the scheme, politicians have deflected this by claiming that the necessary audits were being carried out. It turns out that audits have not taken place, and various assurances about the integrity of the system amount to political spin.
The report by the Auditor General says that what the Government and Ministry of Social Development (MSD) have claimed are “audits” are, in fact, loose phone calls to the recipients of the billions of dollars, checking they still believe they qualify. The report can be found here: Management of the Wage Subsidy Scheme.
Reporting on the Auditor General’s investigation, the Herald’s Hamish Rutherford highlights this report’s conclusion that MSD has been being entirely lax in its approach to checking businesses were actually entitled to receive the wage subsidy. Rutherford says the Auditor General “did not believe MSD had determined the scale of the problem”, and he criticised the department for labelling their low-level checks as “audits” when they were clearly nothing of the sort – see: Auditor-General says ‘audits’ of wage subsidy applicants simply sought verbal response.
According to the report, the so-called audits “mainly consisted of a verbal confirmation of information by employers”. Instead of vague telephone calls, the Auditor General recommends MSD actually “seek written confirmation from applicants of their compliance with the eligibility criteria and the obligations of receiving the subsidy”. Independent and documentary evidence is also recommended.
Public confidence and trust in the scheme is vulnerable, according to the report. Therefore, it is recommended that MSD toughen up their approach, including prosecuting businesses who incorrectly claimed the wage subsidy, and recovering this money.
In a follow-up article, Rutherford reveals: “The Ministry of Social Development is yet to begin any prosecutions for abuse of the $14 billion wage subsidy scheme, as it comes under fire for its work to establish the extent of misuse” – see: MSD under pressure to announce prosecutions under wage subsidy scheme amid criticism of ‘audits’ (paywalled). Rutherford says “The Auditor-General also urged MSD to prioritise its enforcement work, including prosecutions, not only to recover money, but also hold businesses to account ‘for potentially unlawful behaviour’.”
BusinessDesk journalist Brent Melville highlights the Auditor General’s lack of confidence that MSD is identifying cases where prosecution is required and money should be returned – see: Auditor-general: Covid wage scheme admin was lax (paywalled).
MSD comes under further fire in RNZ’s coverage, with a focus on the government department diverting staff from beneficiary fraud investigations to this issue, rather than employing additional staff – see:MSD told to further investigate wage subsidy scheme payments.
According to RNZ: “How those resources will be deployed over the coming months remains a concern, as efforts to recoup wage subsidies continue. The report stated it was likely between 40 and 50 MSD staff who usually worked on benefit fraud would be working on subsidy investigations for another 12 to 18 months.”
The report warns this may encourage corner-cutting: “We understand that the public organisations involved in administering the Scheme want to get back to their core services as quickly as possible. However, we are concerned that this will disincentivise continued efforts on post-payment integrity work.”
RNZ has also reported the views of inequality researcher Max Rashbrooke who highlights that MSD are inconsistent in taking a “softly-softly” approach with businesses when they are much tougher on beneficiaries: “If MSD thinks you might be a benefit fraudster they pursue you to the ends of the earth, and with this scheme, MSD just rang people up and said, you know, ‘did you do everything correctly?’ and if people did then that was it.”
Wage subsidy critic and tax researcher Michael Gousmett is cited as saying the Government should have insisted businesses also have their applications audited at the start of the process, saying “There was no requirement to demonstrate your financial ability to sustain yourself for a period.”
See also Thomas Coughlan’s article on the report:Auditor-General gives seal of approval to Covid-19 wage subsidy, with some suggestions. He highlights the Auditor General’s criticisms of the design of the wage subsidy scheme in regard to the criteria for eligibility, which includes the very vague requirement that businesses have first taken “active steps to reduce Covid-19’s impact on their business”. This is criticised as “open to interpretation”, making verification of legitimate applications difficult.
Previous questions about wage subsidy auditing
The Government and MSD have been claiming for a long time that “auditing” was taking place into recipients of the wage subsidy. For example, back in October MSD asserted that the audits were happening on an apparently large scale – see Nita Blake-Persen’sWage subsidy questions raised after more than 10,000 audits.
It turns out that even this figure of 10,000 was relatively low, with Victoria University of Wellington tax professor Lisa Marriott telling RNZ, “I think that does need to be much higher, particularly because there are around eight per cent of those cases that are being referred onwards for some level of investigation.” Marriott is reported as saying “there are grounds to look for more” abuses of the scheme hoping “the same rigour will be applied to the companies as is applied to benefit fraud.”
In January, Christchurch philanthropist Grant Nelson warned of the lack of auditing taking place, and called for much tougher measures to ensure the subsidy payments had only been given to businesses truly in need – see Nita Blake-Persen’s Estimated $5b in wage subsidies paid out unnecessarily – philanthropist.
Drawing attention to the small number of applications being checked, Nelson argued “any audits they do really are only reaching a very, very few of those who received the wage subsidy. And that is why I think everyone who receives the wage subsidy should be contacted. If they can prove that they are entitled to it well, they can retain it. Otherwise, they should be repaying it.”
Another critic of the scheme, Jilnaught Wong, an accounting professor at the University of Auckland, suggests that rigorous auditing of payments is required because large private companies make use of “opportunistic accounting gymnastics” like “delaying revenue recognition” so that they would qualify for Covid payments while generally making large profits overall in 2020 – see Kate MacNamara’s Was the $14b wage subsidy well-spent? (paywalled).
Finally, the Auditor Generally has recommended a bigger review of the successes and failures of the wage subsidy scheme, and for a must-read view on this topic, see Bernard Hickey’s article from March: Where did the wage subsidy money really go?. The gist of the piece is that the wage subsidy was successful in its purpose, but also a tragedy in the wealth inequality that it has caused, and he raises questions about whether alternatives to employee subsidies could be used.
