Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Aysin Dedekorkut-Howes, Senior Lecturer, School of Environment and Science, Griffith University

With most of the world’s people now living in urban areas, the coronavirus pandemic has highlighted the importance of urban resilience. It’s just as important for adapting to climate change.

Put simply, resilience is the ability of a system, in this case a city, to cope with a disruption. This involves either avoiding, resisting, accommodating or recovering from its impacts.

Our research, recently published in the journal Urban Research and Practice, examined two coastal Australian cities, the Gold Coast and Sunshine Coast. Our aim was to identify ways to improve urban resilience to coastal climate hazards. We found the political aspect of resilience is often overlooked but is critically important.

Contrary to popular belief, building cities that are resilient to the impacts of climate change is not just about infrastructure. Urban resilience also has ecological, social, economic, institutional and, most importantly, political dimensions.

Read more: I lived through Hurricane Katrina and helped design the rebuild – floods will always come, but we can build better to prepare

Why it is hard to create truly resilient cities

Urban resilience has recently become a topic for strategic planning and policy. However, many local governments are struggling to implement the necessary changes. The reasons include:

1. a precise and universal definition of resilience remains elusive, making the idea difficult to implement in policies and plans

2. cities are complex systems, with interlinked physical, natural, social, cultural, political and economic dimensions.

Some definitions interpret resilience as building back exactly what was lost. Others suggest it requires adjusting or even completely transforming urban systems.

Consider what these two approaches mean when planning for urban floods, for example. One way uses a reactive approach to focus on repairing buildings and infrastructure. Or we can proactively transform all elements of urban systems to shift from “fighting water” to “living with water”.

Read more: Design for flooding: how cities can make room for water

We argue this second proactive approach to resilience is better. So how do we achieve this transformation?

The 6 dimensions of urban resilience

Transformative resilience requires decision-makers to take an integrative, innovative and long-term view. They need to consider all the elements of urban systems at once.

Previous research identified five main dimensions of urban resilience: infrastructure, ecological, economic, institutional and social. Our research revealed a so-far-neglected but critically important sixth dimension: political resilience.

In all resilience and adaptation efforts, planners and communities should consider these six dimensions at the same time. Failure to do so can mean resources and time are wasted without achieving the necessary results.

Infrastructural resilience is the capacity of engineering systems such as pipelines, energy networks and power grids to avoid or resist the impacts of disruptions. Our research on adaptation strategies for sea-level rise shows cities globally rely heavily on engineering structures to manage the impacts of coastal flooding and sea-level rise in already developed low-lying areas. The Gold Coast’s seawall is an example.

Ecological resilience is the ability of a city to use ecological systems to resist and accommodate the impacts of disturbances. Retaining mangroves and green space, for example, can reduce flood risks. Political and economic pressures to develop land and clear mangroves run counter to this approach.

Economic resilience includes strategies that allow individuals and communities to recover from the loss and damage caused by a disruption. Climate-related disasters have big financial impacts due to damage to homes, businesses, community facilities and infrastructure. Increasing resilience is expensive, however, and financial institutions’ investment and insurance decisions are critical in determining the patterns of development.

Institutional resilience focuses on the capacity of government and non-government organisations to support preparation, response and recovery efforts. Unfortunately, at least in the Australian context, our research shows state and national institutions and policies have not provided a clear and consistent direction for local governments.

Social resilience is the ability of the community and its networks to accommodate and recover from disturbances. This depends on effective, meaningful and timely community engagement. Residents are then empowered to build their own resilience. An informed and active community can also drive political change, which is a crucial element of transformation.

Political resilience deals with the capacity of the political system, and the commitment of key policymakers, to drive transformational change. A positive example is the leadership of the Lockyer Valley Regional Council in relocating and rebuilding the town of Grantham after the 2011 floods. A negative example is the decision by the Queensland Newman government (2012-15) to stop local councils taking sea-level rise into account in their local plans.

Read more: You can’t talk about disaster risk reduction without talking about inequality

The politics can be the biggest challenge

Of all the six dimensions of urban resilience, the political one often proves to be the most problematic when trying to develop and implement climate change policies or plans. A good example is Toowoomba residents’ rejection of recycled water during the Millennium Drought. It is not enough to have the best technical and economic responses; you need to be able to navigate the hazards of highly partisan and often irrational politics.

A bipartisan approach to climate change adaptation would go some way to overcoming the major reversals that we have seen in both adaptation and mitigation policies. Is this asking too much of our political leaders? The united response to the coronavirus pandemic, with co-operation bridging party-political divides and federal-state rivalries, suggests it is not completely beyond the realms of possibility.

This article is part of a series The Conversation is running on the nexus between disaster, disadvantage and resilience. You can read the rest of the series here.

– ref. You need all 6 pieces of the puzzle to build urban resilience, but too often it’s politics that leaves a gap – https://theconversation.com/you-need-all-6-pieces-of-the-puzzle-to-build-urban-resilience-but-too-often-its-politics-that-leaves-a-gap-152621

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Asher Warren, Lecturer, University of Tasmania

After its early cancellation in 2020, Dark Mofo just announced June dates for the festival this year, with “some trepidation” according to creative director Leigh Carmichael. Festival organisers said they hoped to create a program with international, national and local acts.

“There’s lots of risk, so it must really be worth doing,” said David Walsh, the owner of MONA, which hosts the festival.

Last year saw the sudden cancellation of arts festivals due to the COVID-19 pandemic. In 2021, events from Coachella to the Port Fairy Folk Festival are being put on ice again.

Conversely, Tasmania’s MONA FOMA festival last month saw a “hyperlocal” approach to programming. Unable to draw headliners from around the world, local artists were front and centre — of the 352 artists involved, 90% were Tasmanian.

By most accounts, it was a success with reviewers and audiences. Big hArt’s Acoustic Life of Boatsheds, which saw performers harness the history and function of waterside structures, was a highlight. MONA FOMA attracted an audience of over 35,000, with around 65% Tasmanian and 35% interstate visitors. Tickets were sold out within three hours of their release, according to organisers.

Could hyperlocal arts programming save Australia’s previously thriving festival scene?

Read more: Drawing inspiration in a pandemic — breath has always been central to theatre

Promises and pitfalls

As festivals here and around the world rethink their operations to adapt and continue during this pandemic, a variety of models have emerged.

The first was a shift to online offerings and live streamed events. Both the current Perth Festival and upcoming Adelaide Festival feature curated streaming offerings in their program — but have been careful to avoid giving it away for free.

The second model saw festivals emphasise local artists. While the “MONA effect” might imbue this hyperlocal approach with a sense of novelty, it is worth noting Tasmania’s vibrant theatre-making culture was locally focused long before the pandemic struck. The island’s arts ecology can offer some important insights into the promises and pitfalls of major festivals focusing on the local.

The first promise is the capacity for festivals to engage deeply with people and place. This can, through a diversity of local voices, build a sense of community that is complex and multifaceted. An accidental choir formed by seasonal workers from Kiribati who performed at MONA FOMA, for example, forced their inclusion into Tasmania’s cultural scene.

Locally focused festivals can also provide vital support for small to medium companies and emerging artists. Unrelenting cuts in federal funding across the years, prior to COVID-19, have disproportionately hit small and medium arts organisations and individuals. The federal rescue package for the arts — while welcome — is, as Julian Meyrick put it, “a pimple to a pumpkin” in terms of the scale of support the sector requires.

Read more: Latest arts windfalls show money isn’t enough. We need transparency

Festivals could, like many local governments, help address the shortfall by funding creative development programs and commissioning new work.

While major festivals have large budgets, these are dependent on drawing audiences. Traditionally the model has been to bring in works of scale from overseas, although this model is shifting.

Without travel, bringing international acts is out the question, and drawing audiences from interstate remains fraught. Snap lockdowns forced Perth Festival to reschedule hundreds of shows and put the Adelaide Fringe on tenterhooks. Which is to point out that a local focus needs to consider both artists, and audiences.

Growing local loyalty

Tasmania’s theatre ecology is again instructive here. While brimming with amateur and community-based theatrical activity, growth in the professional sector has been stagnant. Despite a range of recent, and relatively generous COVID support measures from the state government, funding remains in short supply.

The economic imperative to draw audiences means artistic innovation requires particular bravery. Or, of course, a large personal fortune like that of MOMA founder David Walsh who explained his post-pandemic-shutdown plans to the Australian Financial Review late last year …

I’ll mutate as the world mutates. I’m thinking local because local is all there is.

Read more: At moments like these, we need a cultural policy

Audience development — to increase interest in, and appreciation of, the performing arts — is key to developing a local focus.

The elephant in this particular room, however, is the rationalisation of festival funding through tourism. Much state, city and council support hinges on the “multiplier effects” of culturally driven visitation. A 2018 Create NSW report by KPMG estimates such “induced expenditure” in NSW in 2016 was $1.5 billion.

This rationale has driven the creation of bodies like Events Tasmania, and the 2015 Tasmanian Government Events Strategy, which awards funding for events on their capacity to bring and circulate visitors around the state.

A festival less travelled would be hard pressed to access this funding, despite delivering key elements of this policy — to foster artistic excellence and enrich community. Moreover, without significant investment to meet these policy aims, “locally” oriented festivals may lack the resources to guard themselves against insularity and parochialism.

Even prior to COVID, numerous festivals (Sydney, Perth, Ten Days) were already starting to give higher priority to local artists and stories.

One festival of particular note is The Unconformity, a small scale biennial festival that takes place in Tasmania’s wild north-west. Rather than shopping for shows on the arts market, the Unconformity brings in artists to engage with community and place through a range of residencies and projects.

This model has produced remarkable works of ambition and complexity, with strong participation from the local community. This is of course nothing new and harks back to the strong community focus of Australian arts festivals throughout the 1980s and 90s.

In the short term, audiences have proven keen to emerge from lockdown and return to festivals. MONA FOMA showed they can embrace the pivot to more local programming.

A renewed, ongoing focus on the local, with medium to long term commitment to developing audiences and artists across the nation might do more than save our festivals, it could help rebuild our arts industry in the wake of the pandemic.

Read more: Births, deaths and rituals: a revamped Ten Days on the Island explores Tasmania’s past and present

– ref. Without visiting headliners, can local artists save our festivals? – https://theconversation.com/without-visiting-headliners-can-local-artists-save-our-festivals-154830

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Michelle Grattan, Professorial Fellow, University of Canberra

Australia’s COVID vaccination program has begun with Scott Morrison joining a small group of recipients in a carefully orchestrated event, aimed at boosting confidence as the general rollout begins on Monday.

The first recipient was aged care resident Jane Malysiak, 84, from Marayong New South Wales, who was born in Poland and came to Australia soon after the second world war.

Sunday’s line up for the Pfizer shots included, apart from aged care and disability residents, workers in these sectors, and quarantine and border workers. These are the priority recipients for the first round of vaccination.

Chief Medical Officer Paul Kelly and Chief Nursing and Midwifery Officer Alison McMillan also got their shots, with McMillan assuring “it really doesn’t hurt at all”.

Morrison, decked out in an Australian flag mask, sat beside Malysiak, and encouraged her to follow his “V for Vaccine” sign – this went slightly awry when Malysiak’s fingers inadvertently turned in an “up yours” direction.

Morrison averted his eyes from the needle as he received his shot.

The Prime Minister called on the community to follow his and the other recipients’ example to “join us on this Australian path that sees us come out of the COVID-19 pandemic.”

He said he wanted Sunday’s pre-rollout vaccinations to give confidence. “Tens of thousands of people will be coming in tomorrow and I wanted them to know as they went to bed tonight that we have been able to demonstrate our confidence in the health and safety of this vaccination,” he said.

“Today is the beginning of a big game changer.”

Sunday’s figures recorded no community transmission anywhere in the country.

As the rollout starts, Newspoll showed government and opposition remained deadlocked on 50-50 on the two-party vote, but Scott Morrison extended his lead over Anthony Albanese as “better prime minister” to 61-26% (previously 57-29%). The poll is published in Monday’s Australian, and was taken Wednesday to Saturday.

Labor’s primary vote rose one point to 37% since the previous poll three weeks ago; the Coalition was steady on 42%.

Albanese’s net approval is minus 7, following a 3 point fall in his satisfaction level to 38% and a 2 point rise in dissatisfaction to 45%.

Morrison’s net satisfaction is plus 32 – his satisfaction rating increased a point to 64% and his dissatisfaction rating fell a point to 32%.

Although it has not hit his Newspoll numbers, Morrison will continue under pressure in parliament this week over who knew what in his office about the alleged rape of Brittany Higgins.

The Weekend Australian reported a second former Liberal staffer who alleges she was raped last year by the man named by Higgins.

Higgins has alleged she was raped in 2019 by a colleague in the Parliament House office of the then defence industry minister. Linda Reynolds, for whom both she and the man then worked.

Asked about the second allegation, Morrison said at the weekend:“I’m very upset about those circumstances”. He said he did not know who the woman was.

Late Sunday night, The Australian reported a third woman – a Coalition volunteer during the 2016 election campaign – has alleged she was sexually assaulted by the same Liberal staffer days before the election.

Higgins will lay a formal complaint to the police on Wednesday, which will start an investigation.

The Prime Minister said the inquiry by his departmental secretary Phil Gaetjens into who in the Prime Minister’s office knew about the Higgins rape allegation was to be finished “as soon as possible”.

Morrison has said he first knew of this allegation on Monday of last week, when the story was published, and his staff only knew the Friday before that, which was when journalist Samantha Maiden asked his office questions.

He made it clear he was angry he wasn’t alerted to Maiden’s inquiries. “I’ve expressed my view to my staff about that very candidly on Monday.”

The Special Minister of State, Simon Birmingham, indicated at the weekend that Higgins would be able to contribute to the terms of reference for the independent inquiry Morrison has announced into the workplaces of parliamentarians and their staff.

Higgins said in her Friday statement she had “advised the Prime Minister’s Office that I expect a voice in framing the scope and terms of reference for a new and significant review into the conditions for all ministerial and parliamentary staff”.

Birmingham said: “All past and present staff, including Brittany Higgins, will be able to participate in the review.

“I also welcome the input of past and present staff on the terms of the independent review and will be engaging accordingly.”

– ref. Morrison takes the shot to promote vaccine confidence, as government and opposition stay tied in Newspoll – https://theconversation.com/morrison-takes-the-shot-to-promote-vaccine-confidence-as-government-and-opposition-stay-tied-in-newspoll-155721

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Michael Salter, Scientia Associate Professor of Criminology, UNSW

Child sexual abuse material — images and videos of kids being sexually abused — is a growing international problem. Almost 70 million reports of this material were made to US authorities in 2019. That figure rose still further in 2020, as the COVID pandemic drove children and adults to spend more time online

Police and online safety agencies have been sounding the alarm that online sex offenders are seeking to capitalise on the increased online presence of children, tricking and blackmailing kids into creating abuse images and videos. Parents are being called on to be especially vigilant.

However, the sad fact is that online exploitation begins at home for many kids, and in those cases their parent is the last person who can be trusted to keep them safe. One study of 150 adult survivors, who indicated they had appeared in sexual abuse material as children, found 42% identified their biological or adoptive/stepfather as the primary offender. More than two-thirds of such images appear to have been made at home.

Parental abusers are especially difficult to detect. They have constant access to their victims and almost total control over them. Children abused by a parent are the least likely group to tell anyone, and the shame and fear caused by victimisation makes it extremely difficult to speak out.

However, there is long-standing concern that parental perpetrators of child sexual abuse material have been overlooked as governments have instead focused on online threats outside the family.

Our study

The aim of our world-first study was to identify the circumstances in which parental figures (including biological, step and adoptive parents) produce sexual abuse material of their children in Australia.

We also provided recommendations on how to increase the chances of law enforcement and agencies catching abusers.

Our research team developed a database of 82 cases in which Australian parents or parental figures were charged with sexual abuse material offences against their children, as reported in media or legal databases from 2009 to 2019. Our team included academics in criminology, child welfare and law as well as a detective sergeant and a forensic paediatrician who specialise in such cases and provided front-line expertise.

What did we find?

Parental production of child sexual abuse material is a gendered form of abuse. Men were offenders in 90% of cases, and girls were victims in 84% of cases. Boys were victimised in one-fifth of cases, with multiple children abused in some cases.

The victim’s biological father (58%) or stepfather (41%) were most likely to be the offender. However, the victim’s biological mother was involved in 28% of cases, most often as a co-offender.

In eight of the 82 cases, the mother was the sole perpetrator. In these cases, the woman appeared to be producing this material of her children at the request of male acquaintances. In 22% of cases, there were multiple perpetrators involved in the face-to-face abuse, such as both parental figures, other relatives or acquaintances.

The victims were young, with more than 60% under the age of nine. In the 58 cases for which we had information about how the abuse was detected, only 20% of victims told anyone about the abuse. Self-blame, guilt, trauma and confusion about their feelings towards the abuser(s) were common among victims and were barriers to speaking out.

Three typical profiles of offending by parental figures emerged from our study:

1. the biological paternal offender who forms adult relationships and has children of his own to exploit

2. the step- or de facto parental offender who forms a relationship with a woman and exploits her children or seeks to obtain children by some other means (such as surrogacy)

3. the biological mother who produces sexual abuse material of her children at the behest of her partner or men with whom she is acquainted.

Read more: Why does it take victims of child sex abuse so long to speak up?

What does this mean?

Our study highlights that parental offenders are often highly premeditated in their abuse and exploitation of their children, which supports survivors’ descriptions of parental offenders. The offenders in our study were capable of maintaining adult romantic relationships and an otherwise “normal” facade.

The study has several implications for policy and practice.

First, sexual abuse prevention and online safety education programs can’t assume parents are protective. These programs should sensitively address the problem of abuse, exploitation and image-making by family members.

Second, some perpetrators groom and manipulate potential partners to gain access to children. Community education could help people identify the warning signs when an offender is trying to groom someone in a romantic relationship.

Read more: Child sex abuse survivors are five times more likely to be the victims of sexual assault later in life

Third, people with concerns their partner might be accessing child sexual abuse material need to be able to access non-stigmatising support and advice. Services such as PartnerSPEAK are crucial not only to support people partnered with offenders, but to promote early intervention in the offending and the protection of children.

Fourth, child protection and criminal justice interventions in sexual abuse often depend upon the child’s disclosure. However, this group of severely abused children were very unlikely to disclose. This finding underscores the need to alert protective adults to non-verbal signs of abuse.

The sexual exploitation of a child by a parent is a profound violation of trust. As Australia and other jurisdictions scale up efforts to prevent child sexual abuse before it occurs, we can’t overlook the ways that some perpetrators use their homes and families to exploit their children and create sexual abuse material.

As 2021 Australian of the Year Grace Tame said, as she accepted the award in the name of all survivors of child sexual abuse:

Just as the impacts of evil are borne by all of us, so too are solutions borne of all of us.

Read more: Dissociative identity disorder exists and is the result of childhood trauma

If this article has raised any issues for you, please contact 1800 RESPECT through their toll-free national counselling hotline or online. You can also find support through Lifeline on 13 11 14. The Blue Knot Foundation provides telephone counselling for survivors of childhood trauma on 1300 657 380.

– ref. New research shows parents are major producers of child sexual abuse material – https://theconversation.com/new-research-shows-parents-are-major-producers-of-child-sexual-abuse-material-153722

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Ross Garnaut, Professorial Research Fellow in Economics, University of Melbourne

Talk about returning the economy to normal after the crisis is misguided. Before the crisis, normal was nowhere near good enough.

Australia did indeed manage to go 28 years without a commonly-defined recession. But the expansion had three distinct stages.

The first, from the end of the early 1990s recession to the early 2000s, saw dramatic economic growth fuelled by dramatic productivity growth. In fact, Australia led the developed world in productivity growth — a remarkable development given that it had spent most of the twentieth century at the bottom of the developed country league table. Much of it was driven by the Hawke government’s economic reforms in the 1980s.

I call this first decade of the long expansion the productivity boom.

Australia continued to experience rapid growth in incomes for another decade, until 2013, this time driven by extraordinarily high export prices for metals and energy and the resources industries investment booms that followed.

First Hawke’s boom, then China’s boom

I call this second boom the China resources boom. It drew its strength from the world’s most populous country experiencing the strongest, longest and most resource-intensive economic growth of any developed country, ever.

During the China resources boom, as the world fell into the global financial crisis and bold fiscal and monetary stimulus in Australia and China made Australia one of only two developed countries to avoid recession.

Throughout these first two decades of the long boom, from 1992 to 2012, average Australian incomes, measured in international currency, rose from the bottom half of the developed country league table to the top-most tier. By 2013 Australian incomes were one-quarter higher than in the United States.

Then the dog days

Economic growth continued after 2013, but much more slowly, with stagnant output per person and decline in the typical household’s real wages and income. I call this third period the dog days. In the seven years from 2013 to 2019, while the whole developed world experienced slow and grumpy times, Australia drifted to the back of the slow-moving pack.

Unemployment has never again fallen to anywhere near the 4% it reached on the eve of the global financial crisis. Underemployment has grown and grown. Average household disposable income per person ended the seven lean years where it began — a period of income stagnation for ordinary Australians unprecedented since (and starting to challenge in longevity) the Great Depression.

Read more: Garnaut’s Dog Days

By 2019, average Australian incomes, again measured in international currency, were one-quarter below those of the US.

Many Australians are accustomed to thinking of Japan as something of an economic basket case. They might be surprised to learn that from 2013 to 2019 Australia underperformed Japan on the most important indicator of economic performance: output per person. If Japan is a basket case, on this measure Australia has been a worse one since the dog days began.

We need to lift our ambition higher

Returning to those day days is deeply unattractive, but it is what is almost certain to happen if the treasurer and Reserve Bank are as good as their words.

Josh Frydenberg has said he will maintain an expanded budget only until unemployment “is on a clear path back to pre-crisis levels”. He defines pre-crisis levels as “comfortably back under six per cent”.

That is nowhere near what Australia is capable of.

The truth is we won’t know what Australia is capable of until we run the economy strongly enough for long enough to see the emergence of market pressure for substantial wage increases. That might happen at an unemployment rate of 3.5%, or it might happen at an unemployment rate even lower.

Our bank should buy our bonds

Creating money to allow government spending to achieve early full employment comes with strings attached. So we should move as quickly as possible to full employment, while keeping debt to the lowest levels consistent with full employment on the earliest possible timetable.

Oddly, to not run the budget as hard as we can until we are at full employment could condemn us to endless increases in our public debt to GDP ratio because we wouldn’t be producing the GDP we were capable of. And it could damage our commitment to a liberal democratic political system.

The extra bonds needed to finance ramped up Commonwealth and state government spending should be bought by the Reserve Bank through expanding its balance sheet (creating money) rather than bought on the private market where they are likely to unhelpfully push up the value of the Australian dollar.

It should not be afraid to push rates negative

The Reserve Bank’s holdings of Australian government bonds are low by international standards, and they should be expanded. We should avoid running higher interest rates than other developed countries unless our economy is clearly stronger — even if that means negative short term interest rates.

Much contemporary economics presumes that negative or near-interest rates are impossible, or short-lived if they ever appear. The Reserve Bank treats them as anathema, to be avoided at all costs.

Read more: The Reserve Bank might yet go negative

That view has been challenged by the twenty-first-century reality of very high savings and low investment on a global scale. There is no reason to expect a return to “normal” higher interest rates soon, or, with certainty, ever.

Low rates make the interest costs of debt small. At current interest rates, a debt of about a trillion dollars — half of annual GDP and the highest contemplated so far — would incur interest costs of about 0.5% GDP. In Japan, with public debt heading towards two times GDP and with even lower interest rates, the budget cost is currently about zero.

Some (most likely new) businesses will do well in an ultra-low interest rates environment. Other more-established businesses will cling to guarantees of old rates of return and withhold investment, eventually being weeded out by Darwinian processes.

In my new book Reset: Restoring Australia after the Pandemic Recession, to be released on Monday I outline plans for a new business tax system that would reward businesses that invested and penalise those that lived off “economic rents” — over-high profits maintained by lobbying and barriers to competition.

Australians with established wealth have done extraordinarily well out of the low interest rates, rising asset values and high profit shares in the twenty-first century.

We are kidding ourselves if we think an extreme and growing divergence of fortune with less well off Australians is consistent with social cohesion and effective democratic government as we deal with intractable domestic and international problems.

And we should pay near-everyone a basic income

In my book I propose a form of basic income, I call it Australian Income Security, that would help stimulate the economy until full employment was achieved. My calculations suggest it is economically realistic.

Nearly all resident adult Australians would receive an unconditional fortnightly payment at the JobSeeker rate (about $15,000 per annum), indexed to the consumer price index. Extra would be paid to people who currently qualify for payments in excess of JobSeeker. The payment would attract no tax.

Beyond that payment, every dollar of Australians’ personal income would be taxed at 37% up to $180,000 and 45% after that.

Read more: ‘Whatever it takes’ should now include a universal basic income

Receipt of the basic payment would not depend on passing a bureaucratic test of whether the recipient had put sufficient effort into the search for a job.

Recipients could choose to look for a job in the knowledge they would keep 63% of every dollar of income from employment.

It would create a much stronger incentive to find work than the high effective marginal tax imposed by the present system as benefits are withdrawn.

Immigration should restart more slowly

Non-Australians and Australians who had not been resident for at least half a year would be excluded, as would people with taxable income above $250,000 or with net assets including super and a house of $2 million.

We will make earlier and stronger progress towards full employment and boosting living standards if we restrict our immigration program and refocus it on valuable skills.

Here I am not referring to the humanitarian component of our immigration program which is too small to be of much economic significance.

Read more: With our borders shut, this is the ideal time to overhaul our asylum seeker policies

Immigration increases both the number of people available to work and the demand for workers. Nevertheless, economic prudence argues for holding net immigration in the decade ahead to about the level in the first stage of Australia’s three-stage recession-free expansion – the productivity boom phase.

Immigration was then about 0.5% of the population per year, half what it was in the dog days that preceded the COVID recession.

Our reset should do much better than return us to the economy we left, but there’s no need to turn our backs on the best of our past. We have faced difficult challenges before and shown we are more than capable of meeting them, often by doing more than we have done before. This is one of those times.

– ref. The reset to lift us out of the COVID recession has to be bold: returning to where we were is nowhere near good enough – https://theconversation.com/the-reset-to-lift-us-out-of-the-covid-recession-has-to-be-bold-returning-to-where-we-were-is-nowhere-near-good-enough-155565

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Ben Bramble, Lecturer, philosophy, Australian National University

Some of my vegan friends are reluctant to get the COVID-19 vaccine.

These vaccines do not contain animal products. Yet animals were used to develop and test them. For instance, early trials involved giving the vaccines to mice and macaque monkeys. So my friends say they feel uncomfortable having a product that uses animals in these ways.

I am very sympathetic to their concerns. Animals are treated appallingly in the production of many goods and in many areas of life.

Nonetheless, I believe vegans can get the COVID-19 vaccine in good conscience. Let me explain why.

Read more: Friday essay: on being an ethical vegan for 33 years

Getting the vaccine prevents harming others

A key feature of COVID-19 is you can catch it and pass it on without even knowing you have it, despite your best efforts to avoid this.

This means we each pose a potentially deadly risk to others. Getting the vaccine yourself greatly reduces the chance of you having serious disease. And evidence is emerging that vaccines reduce the chance of you passing on the virus to others.

This means there is an important difference between avoiding products like shampoos and cosmetics tested on animals and not getting the vaccine. Doing the former doesn’t put anyone else at risk. But doing the latter does.

Read more: Infected with the coronavirus but not showing symptoms? A physician answers 5 questions about asymptomatic COVID-19

Let’s start with fruit and vegetables versus cosmetics

Vegans acknowledge it is virtually impossible to avoid contributing to animal harm entirely. Even most fruit and vegetables are grown in a way that kills or displaces wild animals, uses fish meal and blood and bone to fertilise plants, or requires killing “pests” like mice to protect crops and grain stores.

Many vegans therefore distinguish between animals harmed in this sort of food production, and animals harmed more directly by the meat and dairy industries, as well as in the production of consumer products such as cosmetics.

What is the right basis of this distinction? One possibility is the latter group of animals are killed or harmed directly, as a means to an end, whereas the former group suffers harm as a mere by-product or side-effect of other processes.

But this cannot be the right basis. Killing animals for use in fertiliser or as pests is direct killing.

A more plausible basis for the distinction is unavoidably killing animals in the production of things that are necessary or clearly worth it. We need to grow large amounts of fruit and vegetables. And we cannot — at least, given current technologies — do so without killing some animals along the way.

But we do not need to consume meat or dairy, or wear animal-based clothing or cosmetics tested on animals. There are plenty of excellent alternatives.

So, in ethical terms, which of these products is a COVID-19 vaccine most comparable to: fruit and vegetables, or cosmetics tested on animals?

I think they are more like fruit and vegetables. COVID-19 vaccines are necessary — there is no other credible way out of this devastating pandemic. And the animal harm involved in developing and testing these vaccines was unavoidable. There was no reasonable alternative available, at least not without making big sacrifices in terms of how long we have to wait for vaccines to arrive.

For this reason, I think even though the vaccines used animals directly, their use under the circumstances was permissible, and so vegans can get these vaccines in good conscience.

Read more: Organic, free-range, fairtrade or vegan: how ethical consumption got so selective

Why can’t we test on humans?

Some might argue there is an alternative to using animals to develop and test these vaccines — using humans instead, in “human challenge trials”, where volunteers are exposed to the virus in lab-controlled conditions. In fact, the United Kingdom has just given the green light for this type of trial to go ahead for later stages of the testing process.

If we allowed humans to volunteer to be involved at earlier stages of the development and testing process as well, some might put up their hands for this, too. While human challenge trials face serious moral issues, it might be ethically preferable to use consenting humans rather than unconsenting animals.

But involvement at these earlier stages may be so dangerous too few people would volunteer, or we should not allow them to take part. Still, this is a proposal worth considering further.

Read more: Challenge trials for a coronavirus vaccine are unethical – except for in one unlikely scenario

But I still feel too awful

Some vegans might accept my reasoning but find they just cannot bear to use a vaccine tested on animals.

To these people, I would say: it is perfectly understandable and reasonable to feel uncomfortable about getting the vaccine for this reason. It doesn’t follow, though, that you shouldn’t get it. If the only way to save the planet or your fellow humans is to kill an animal, you should do so even if it is incredibly emotionally hard to do so.

Even so, if as a vegan you simply cannot bring yourself to get the vaccine, this won’t make me grumpy in the same way it makes me grumpy when I hear others — for example, anti-vaxxers motivated by conspiracy theories — say they won’t get vaccinated.

Your reluctance to get the vaccine is rooted in a legitimate grievance about human mistreatment of animals more broadly.

By contrast, people who refuse to get vaccinated because they think Bill Gates is hoping to microchip humanity have no such legitimate grievance behind their aversion.

Humanity caused the pandemic

Experts widely predicted a pandemic would happen sooner or later. Many believe it was a direct result of human activity — indeed, mistreating animals.

Moreover, the fact there aren’t good alternatives to using animals in development and testing is due largely to society’s failure to properly explore and fund such alternatives earlier.

Nevertheless, under current circumstances, our need to use animals to develop and test these vaccines is real.

So, the correct path is not to reject COVID-19 vaccines. It’s to reluctantly accept them and lobby hard for better treatment of animals.

– ref. Are COVID vaccines vegan? Should I get one anyway? An ethicist explains – https://theconversation.com/are-covid-vaccines-vegan-should-i-get-one-anyway-an-ethicist-explains-155221

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Geoff Hanmer, Adjunct Professor of Architecture, University of Adelaide

This history of the development of universities is the first of two articles on the past and future of the campus. This is a long read, so set aside the time to read it and enjoy.

Once the first atomic bomb exploded on July 16 1945 in New Mexico, the world would never be the same again. Scientists and engineers had turned an obscure principle into a weapon of unprecedented power. Los Alamos, the facility where the bomb was designed, was run by the University of California.

This was a turning point for universities. As they increasingly focused on scientific research, the role of universities worldwide – and their campuses – changed.

Before the first world war, the largest investment on most campuses was the university library. After the second world war, investment shifted decisively to laboratories and equipment.

A key reason for the increasing focus on university research was the lessons of the first world war. After the war, governments of rich countries took an increasingly interventionist role in directing and encouraging the research and development of artificial materials, weapons, defences and medicine. Universities or institutes associated with universities did much of this work.

Read more: Universities and government need to rethink their relationship with each other before it’s too late

By 1926, the Council for Science and Industrial Research, the predecessor to the CSIRO, and the organisation that would become the National Health and Medical Research Council (NHMRC) had been founded in Australia.

A gradual turn towards research

In the UK, many of the older universities were not that keen on applied research. Chemistry, engineering and physics were taught at Oxford between the wars, but by 1939 the chemistry cohort was just over 40 students, of whom “two or three were women”.

It wasn’t until 1937 that Oxford drew up a plan to develop the “Science Area” with new buildings, but in that same year, the university also agreed to reduce its size to avoid a fight with the Town over “further intrusion on the Parks”.

Facilities at Cambridge for physical sciences were slightly better, but not by much, despite its historical focus on mathematics. The Cavendish laboratory in which the New Zealander Ernest Rutherford discovered in 1911 that the atom had a nucleus was small, dark, damp and ill-equipped.

This relative lack of interest in experimental sciences at Oxbridge was unhelpful for science research in Australia, because our six small state-run universities tended to follow their lead. As an indication of its priorities, the University of Adelaide built its humanities buildings in stone and its much more modest science facilities in brick.

Nobel laureate and University of Adelaide Professor W.H. Bragg carried out his pioneering experiments on X-ray crystallography in Adelaide during 1900 to 1908 in a converted storeroom in the basement of the Mitchell Building. His lab is now a storeroom again.

The post-war transformations

The application of university research had been a German strength since well before the first world war with the rise of the Humboldtian model of higher education, which favoured research over scholarship. A key reason the Allies prevailed in 1945 was that the United States in particular rapidly improved its capacity to carry out and apply research, based on the Humboldtian model.

In 1917, MIT established a naval aviation school. The University of Washington soon followed MIT’s example.

This decision had a direct bearing on the success of the Boeing company following construction of the Boeing wind tunnel at the University of Washington’s Seattle campus in 1917. It led directly to the development of advanced aerodynamics for the Boeing 247 of 1933, which provided the template for all subsequent commercial airliners.

The Australian university system between the wars offers no such exemplars. The focus on applied research was foreign to the prevailing university culture in Australia at the time. As Hannah Forsyth writes in A History of the Modern Australian University, not until the 1940s did “scholarly esteem began to move away from ‘mastery’ of disciplines towards the discovery of new knowledge”.

New research facilities and new campuses

New technologies led to a host of new post-war industries, including commercial aviation, television, plastics, information technology (IT) and advanced health care. The demand for skills to operate these new industries was the primary driver of an explosion in university enrolments.

University science research in Australia only got a serious start in 1946 with the foundation of the Australian National University (ANU) and the Commonwealth Universities Grants Committee, which became the Australian Research Council (ARC).

As Robert Menzies, the prime minister from 1949-66, later wrote:

The Second World War brought about great social changes. In the eye of the future observer, the greatest may well provide to be in the field of higher education.

In Australia, about 80% of our universities have been founded since the second world war. The growth of the sector has been startling.

Read more: Australia doesn’t have too many universities. Here’s why

All of the institutions founded during the Menzies era were sited on large campuses in the suburbs or beyond. Although mainly Commonwealth-funded, they were designed and delivered by state public works authorities to tight budgets on land provided largely by state governments. UNSW, Monash, Griffith, La Trobe, Flinders and WAIT (now Curtin) share a heritage of economical buildings on large parcels of land.

The key reasons for this approach were to minimise cost and maximise capacity for growth and change. Low to medium-rise buildings on land surplus to state needs maximised bang for buck. Development costs per square metre of building were about half that of a campus in the central business district (CBD) of cities.

This was not a new discovery. The universities of Stanford, Berkeley, Caltech, Tokyo, Wisconsin and Peking, all founded in the 19th century, used this model for similar reasons.

Fortunately, the states were generous with land they didn’t need. Of all the universities built in the Menzies era, only UNSW with 39 hectares has a significant land area constraint. The other universities have at least 50ha and several have well over 100ha. This has given them some headaches, but also lots of options.

Research by ARINA, an architectural firm specialising in higher education, community and public design, shows that virtually all universities built since 1949 – that’s more than 90% of universities in the world – have large campuses with densities less than 500 students per hectare. The University of Bath, built in 1966, is typical of post-war UK universities with 59ha and 16,000 students in 2021, less than 300/ha.

The same is true even in small city-states such as Hong Kong and Singapore. The National University of Singapore has a campus of about 140ha with 37,000 students (264/ha) and Hong Kong University of Science and Technology has 55ha with 11,000 students (200/ha).

Most new universities in Europe, Asia, India and the Middle East still rely on the large campus model. The University of Paris-Saclay, for example, is being built on 189ha of former farmland 15km south of the Paris orbital motorway.

Broad-acre campuses are popular with students as measured by surveys of educational experience such as the Australasian Survey of Student Engagement (AUSSE) and the US National Survey of Student Engagement (NESSE). The most popular campuses in Australia are Bond, New England, Griffith and Notre Dame. RMIT and UTS, the highest-ranked CBD campuses finish in the middle of the pack, a long way behind the leaders. A similar phenomenon can be seen in the UK and the US.

Read more: Looking beyond the sandstone: universities reinvent campuses to bring together town and gown

Campus model goes corporate

The ARINA research indicates broad-acre campus models have also become increasingly part of the physical organisation and accommodation of many commercial operations.

In 2020, 63% of the top 30 US Fortune 500 index and 87% of the top 30 tech companies in the index were located in suburban and extra-urban settings, mostly campuses. This includes well-known tech companies such as Apple, Alphabet, Facebook, Tesla and HP, but also less obvious candidates such as Walmart, Exxon Mobil and Amazon.

In the UK, 28% of all FTSE 100 companies and 54% of FTSE Techmark 100 companies by market capitalisation are based outside greater London.

The reasons for this are straightforward: capital and operating costs for research-based firms are lower outside a CBD. While some Australian universities are choosing to head into the city, much of the new economy appears to be heading for the suburbs. It’s happening for the same reason that universities started to migrate there over a hundred years ago.

Read more: The rise of the corporate campus

– ref. A century that profoundly changed universities and their campuses – https://theconversation.com/a-century-that-profoundly-changed-universities-and-their-campuses-151765

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Fan Yang, PhD candidate at Deakin University, Deakin University

Facebook’s “news ban” in response to Australia’s proposed media bargaining code, has been hard to miss if you’ve spent any time on social networks in the past day or so. The social media platform has effectively halted all posting of links from Australian news pages and stopped people in Australia from posting or viewing international news as well.

Read more: Facebook’s news is gone. Here’s where to turn for trusted information

The change happened overnight, and may be undone if either Australia or Facebook backs down. But if the current situation continues, it may leave Facebook operating much more like the Chinese platform WeChat, where news is ruled by platform-specific content houses cranking out huge volumes of low-quality articles. And that might suit Facebook quite well — if not the public.

What is WeChat?

WeChat is the major social media platform in the People’s Republic of China. It’s also used by many people around the world, including in Australia. While the PRC and Australia have very different political systems, this shouldn’t stop us paying attention to their similarities.

WeChat is as privately owned as a company can be in China, and is often described as the Chinese Facebook. But WeChat is an even more pervasive platform, combining its own set of built-in tools, payment services and communications networks with a range of optional apps and utilities from messaging services to games and more.

Read more: Thinking of taking up WeChat? Here’s what you need to know

In short, WeChat does everything. Because of this, entire news organisations have set up inside the platform. These are known as WeChat Official Accounts (WOAs), and are roughly equivalent to “blue tick” accounts on other platforms such as Twitter.

If Facebook’s Australian news embargo continues, we think something like the WeChat model might develop here. In our research, we have shown it’s very common for features and interface elements to move between English and Mandarin digital media.

People might have a general idea that some aspects of US-based social media have been reproduced by Mandarin language services (such as WeChat’s Instagram-copying “Moments” product) but the copying goes both ways. The stickers, GIFs, QR codes, live commenting, and direct messaging used by the likes of Faceboook, Twitter and LinkedIn were copied from WeChat, Weibo and Bilibili.

How news works on WeChat

Countless media entrepreneurs have set up WOAs since they were launched in August 2013. These accounts produce millions of news posts every day, and unlike traditional media outlets posting on Facebook, these posts are not accompanied by external links to a version of the article hosted elsewhere. WeChat is their whole audience, and they make money by renting out advertising space within their articles.

One of us (Fan Yang) conducted research with 24 Australian-Chinese employees of WOAs. These organisations appear to employ far fewer journalists than traditional media — and sometimes none at all. There are already many Australian-run WOAs operating almost entirely with short-term interns, most of whom do not identify themselves as professional journalists. Instead they are content producers translating published English news into Mandarin and reappropriating stories with editorial spin.

Read more: How Australia’s Mandarin speakers get their news

These organisations largely rehash existing news content, often with clickbait headlines and exaggerated accounts of events. Stories are often aggregated from multiple news sources, or simply copied entirely, perhaps being passed through an automated translation service twice to avoid directly reproducing sentences.

From the fringes to the mainstream

If we were to see the development of platform-specific Facebook news services modelled on the WeChat system, only a handful of media workers would be needed. They would perform multiple roles as writers, editors, marketers, content producers and translators.

As these jobs might only require marginal professional experience in a specific field (such as politics, lifestyle, sports, or nature and environment), the work could be outsourced to places or regions where the labour cost is lower.

With the shrinking readership and advertising revenue in the traditional news industry, content farms and outsourced journalism have already become a common way to churn out a high volume of speedy and inexpensive content. Many fringe groups already operate this way on Facebook, run by anti-vaxxers, flat-Earthers, white supremacists and more. In the absence of more traditional news on Facebook, there is no reason this model couldn’t spread further.

Information control

When comparing China and Australia, we often think of divisions such as China’s shutdown of the “foreign” internet since 2009 and the current diplomatic and trade tensions. However, both nations have seen similar shifts in the way that information is controlled on their dominant platforms, and both have high levels of media concentration.

Whether the changes to Facebook will lead to increased levels of WeChat-style platform-specific news production houses, or an increased visibility of those that already exist, remains to be seen. This may depend on how independent and start-up media find a way forward, although we believe the WeChat model may be successful for some.

We would suggest, however, that there are already two key messages to take away from the current situation. The first is to note that while regulation of social media is possible, political will is largely absent without the support of incumbent media organisations. This can be seen in the deals Google has recently established with several media companies.

Also, only Google and Facebook have been the focus of the media bargaining code so far. Can we expect regulation of Reddit, Discord, TikTok, WeChat, Twitter, or even MySpace and Ello? What about news platforms that link to other news platforms? These developments have not yet played out.

The second is that Facebook will defend its capacity to operate on its own terms, and will fight hard to prevent either states or competitors dictating how its services operate or how it governs content. Despite Facebook refusing to accept journalistic outlets as formal competitors (as this would likely invoke various national oversight mechanisms for journalistic content), they are nonetheless in competition for audiences and advertising.

Anything that could shift people into Facebook-specific news-advertising contexts with independent editorial teams would be a highly desirable outcome for the platform.

– ref. The WeChat model: how Facebook’s ban could change the business of news – https://theconversation.com/the-wechat-model-how-facebooks-ban-could-change-the-business-of-news-155629

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Michelle Grattan, Professorial Fellow, University of Canberra

University of Canberra Professorial Fellow Michelle Grattan and University of Canberra Vice-Chancellor and President Professor Paddy Nixon discuss the week in politics.

This week Michelle and Paddy discuss the political and personal ramifications of the alleged rape of former Liberal staffer Brittany Higgins, as well as a victory of the crossbench in the government’s decision to abandon watering down the BOOT provision of their fairwork amendment. Also discussed, Facebook’s decision to prevent the publication of news media on its website.

– ref. VIDEO: Michelle Grattan on Brittany Higgins, BOOT and Facebook – https://theconversation.com/video-michelle-grattan-on-brittany-higgins-boot-and-facebook-155643

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Anne Décobert, Lecturer in Development Studies, University of Melbourne

In recent years, international donors have poured large amounts of aid into development and peacebuilding programs in Myanmar. But when military forces seized power in a coup earlier this month, the international aid community was left grappling with how to respond.

The UK has announced it will review its aid programs to Myanmar, while New Zealand has committed to ensuring its aid does not benefit the military.

The US has indicated it will redirect development assistance away from the military state and toward civil society.

Other embassies in Myanmar, including Australia’s, have condemned the actions of the military and called on security forces to refrain from violence, but haven’t specified yet how they will adjust their aid programs.

And international NGOs working in Myanmar have voiced their commitment to supporting local and national civil society partners.

Yet, it will take time for donors and international agencies to find new ways forward and disentangle their programs completely from the Myanmar government and the complex administrative structures that were developed over the past decade.

The situation illustrates the need for more flexible and politically sensitive approaches to aid programming in countries like Myanmar that are transitioning to democracy and are prone to setbacks like this.

Read more: Myanmar’s military reverts to its old strong-arm behaviour — and the country takes a major step backwards

How aid has evolved in Myanmar

When Myanmar was last ruled by the military in the 1990s and early 2000s, Western donors mainly provided humanitarian aid by bypassing the state.

For some, this meant supporting community-based organisations like the Back Pack Health Worker Team and non-state systems like the Karen Department of Health and Welfare. Such organisations historically worked across borders (“cross-border aid”) and in partnership with ethnic armed organisations, fighting for self-determination in the country’s disputed borderlands.

But when Myanmar began its democratic reforms in 2011, donors engaged more with the state and increasingly channelled aid directly through government agencies or through international agencies based inside the country.

Donors also focused more on long-term development goals. By 2013, official development assistance to Myanmar had reached US$6 billion — almost a 60-fold increase compared to 2005.

Over the past decade, international aid to Myanmar has fostered an increasingly vibrant civil society. It supported large-scale development programs in sectors like health, education and livelihoods.

A number of donor-funded initiatives also supported both state systems as well as community-based organisations and non-state actors in border areas. This developed valuable collaborations between individuals and groups that were historically divided by conflict.

But the shifting aid economy was not all positive.

Community-based organisations and non-state actors serving ethnic minority communities often felt sidelined from key decisions affecting their activities. Many faced funding cuts or were forced to access donor support through more bureaucratic funding streams inside Myanmar, instead of through partner agencies in places like Thailand, as they did in the past.

Internationally funded development initiatives were also seen as undermining Indigenous health and education systems and increasing centralised state control over border areas.

And peacebuilding initiatives were criticised for being co-opted by the military and bolstering efforts by the central, Bamar-dominated state to consolidate control over ethnic groups in border regions.

Rolling back of last decade’s achievements?

The coup not only draws increased attention to these issues, but also throws into question much of the development and peacebuilding work that has taken place in recent years.

With the military now in control and key ministerial leaders replaced or having resigned, work to develop government systems and capacities has ground to a halt. Development workers fear the past decade’s achievements will be rolled back.

The ability of international NGOs and UN agencies to continue their operations is also now in question, with staff safety and access to local communities jeopardised.

Myanmar’s junta historically restricted international access to people in ethnic minority regions along the borders. The new regime — if it remains in power — could create a similarly difficult environment for aid workers.

And community-based organisations face other difficulties. A civil disobedience movement is intensifying across the country among civilians opposed to the coup, leading many people employed by the government and in other industries to boycott work.

As such, many banks are closed and organisations cannot access funds for the day-to-day running of their programs.

Leaders of community-based health organisations working in border areas also tell me that much of their funding is now funnelled through centralised administrative systems, which are frozen and would not be able to operate under the military regime.

People need these health services more than ever, due to the shutdown of official health systems, the potential for increased violence in border areas and the ongoing COVID-19 crisis.

As a result, the leaders of these health organisations are asking donors to support community programs and once again fund cross-border aid. Yet, they don’t know how donors will be able to adapt to the current situation or what this will mean for them.

Read more: COVID coup: how Myanmar’s military used the pandemic to justify and enable its power grab

The need for flexible and politically sensitive aid programs

After the coup in Myanmar, much criticism has been directed toward international actors for their faith in the country’s shaky political transition. But what is really needed is a constructive dialogue about how foreign governments and aid organisations should approach development and peace-building in countries like Myanmar.

A new approach is needed that recognises countries do not always transition from conflict to peace, or from military rule to democracy, in a linear fashion. Rather, they can be unstable and subject to major setbacks.

Read more: Australia must do more to ensure Myanmar is preventing genocide against the Rohingya

This means supporting vulnerable people in such countries requires a two-pronged approach that combines both flexible and shorter-term “humanitarian” aid and longer-term, more state-focused “development” assistance.

International donors and agencies must also build greater flexibility and concrete contingency plans into their programs from the outset when working in “transitional” countries.

In Myanmar, international donors shouldn’t pull out of the country entirely. Instead, they must listen to and work with community and civil society actors to devise programs that can be adapted to an evolving and unstable situation.

This should include support for community-level groups that were developed in response to decades of military rule and have the experience and structures in place to continue helping people in the current climate.

– ref. Myanmar’s coup might discourage international aid, but donors should adapt, not leave – https://theconversation.com/myanmars-coup-might-discourage-international-aid-but-donors-should-adapt-not-leave-154742

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Joshua Gans, Professor of Strategic Management, University of Toronto

The Conversation is a great news site. But, for the most part, people don’t read it like a newspaper. Instead, articles on specialised topics are shared with other people. One way is via Facebook.

Yesterday, almost none of that was possible worldwide for the Conversation’s Australian content because Facebook opted to ban all news (even seeming news ) from Australian sources to avoid being designated for compulsory negotiations under legislation before the Australian parliament.

The government’s new media bargaining code was a response to the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission’s digital platforms inquiry that found it was hard for content providers, including but not limited to news organisations – to deal with platforms whose rules were always changing.

Parts of these grievances are legitimate, and relate to editorial and algorithmic issues. Others relate to the platform’s stranglehold on online advertising.

But rather than tackle these issues head on, Australia’s government sliced out a sliver of the sites affected – news sites – and attempted to fix things for it, saying it’s concerned about competition.

Competition policy without more competition

To any economist, the point of competition policy is to encourage competition. In this case, either more digital platform options for consumers, or more news content options.

But the government’s legislation seems to be uniquely designed to deliver neither.

The code allows news organisations to negotiate with large digital platforms about things such as how their algorithms work to prioritise content, and money.

And money is what it is really all about. The news organisations want more of it, large digital platforms have it. It’s that simple.

The code empowers news organisations to get money from digital platforms by

• making it unlawful for digital platforms that do not pay up to provide links to Australian news, giving big news outlets quasi-monopoly bargaining power

• allowing deals to be made without the need for authorisation by a regulator concerned about the public interest

• providing a regulatory stop-gap should that not happen, whose design is tilted in interest of one of the parties

This last step requires a little explanation.

It is not unknown, especially in Australia, for competition policy to work by first allowing parties to negotiate, and then imposing a regulated settlement only if they fail.

And its normally about empowering the little guy, in the belief that’s what leads to socially desirable outcomes.

Little guys locked out

But not in this case. It is only the large news organisations that would be allowed to negotiate over money.

It’s quite different to the system adopted in France, whose government is able to collect money from digital platforms via a tax, which can, should the government wish, be distributed to content providers on a criteria other than naked private interest. The French system isn’t clearly pro-competition either, but it at least provides a mechanism that could enable good outcomes to occur.

Read more: Banning news links just days before Australia’s COVID vaccine rollout? Facebook, that’s just dangerous

The Australian process fails to deliver competition in two ways.

First, it allows the treasurer, rather than a judge, to designate the platforms the process will apply to. He is unlikely to designate a platform that large media organisations have no problem working with, as that will entail work.

Second, the treasurer is unable to designate a platform that doesn’t carry any Australian news. So if a digital platform wants out, it can get out.

Both of these things have begun to come to pass in the last day — even before the code has been legislated.

Facebook gains a bargaining tool

Google has done deals with some large news outlets and thereby signalled it will do deals with others to ensure it is not designated. It means Google won’t have to deal with all of the other smaller voices that also have a problem with it.

Facebook have opted out of the news content business altogether, as the law allows it to. It decided Australian news wasn’t worth it, at least for now. Australians can still share news from around the world, which in some ways is more valuable to them than local news they are already aware of.

Facebook might be doing it to get a better deal when negotiations take place.

Read more: Why Google is now funnelling millions into media outlets, as Facebook pulls news for Australia

Bizarrely, before the government’s proposed legislation, if Facebook had excluded content from suppliers in order to get a better deal, Australia’s Competition and Consumer Commission could have prosecuted it for exclusionary conduct.

The new code gives Facebook a license to do what it has just done, and argue that it could not have been exercising market power because it was merely using the steps identified in the code as necessary for it to avoid compulsory arbitration.

Never mind that this really means Facebook

• has been able to demonstrate to news outlets how much they need it

• is now able to get news organisations to agree to better conditions than if it had not been given this licence.

In other words, the entire process has had the (I hope) unintended consequence of enhancing the very market power that it claimed to intend to contain.

No more platforms, no more competition

Those games aside: where will this end up? It will end up with the large digital platforms doing deals with the largest news outlets. Those deals will be multi-year lump-sum payments which enable everyone to go about their business. There will be no new digital platforms, no new content providers, no more competition.

The shareholders of the large digital platforms will be a few million dollars poorer and the shareholders of large Australian news outlets a few million dollars richer.

There will be no improvement in any competitive outcome whatsoever. As often happens in Australia, oligarchies will consolidate, and consumers will get nothing.

– ref. Facebook versus Australia: the government hands Facebook a free pass – https://theconversation.com/facebook-versus-australia-the-government-hands-facebook-a-free-pass-155628

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Isobella Austin, PhD Candidate in Cinema and Screen Studies, Swinburne University of Technology

Narratives around sexual assault in Hollywood are changing – on screen and off.

There is a longstanding genre of film dedicated to depicting the crime of rape as it affects the fathers of the victims, showing fathers dishing out violent retribution.

Contemporary directors have been moving away from depictions like this, with many films choosing to complicate the simplistic morality of their predecessors.

But these films have generally been low-budget affairs with limited cinematic runs — unlike the budgets and stars pumped into stories about fathers, like Taken (2008) and Death Wish (2018).

With the success of 2020’s Promising Young Woman, it is likely there will be more revisionist films like these reaching wide audiences and critical acclaim.

This is a refreshing change of pace in a genre packed with films depicting rape as an attack on the father’s honour.

Read more: Weinstein conviction a partial victory for #MeToo, but must not overshadow work still to be done

Revenge of the father

The rape-revenge film genre has a fairly sleazy reputation, summoning images of a battered and traumatised woman taking violent revenge on her attacker(s), as in I Spit On Your Grave (1978).

These early films rose in prominence in 70s and relied heavily on the shock value of brutal rape scenes, followed by the even larger shock of the victim’s sadistic revenge.

But entries in the genre didn’t always focus on the reaction of the victim.

Frequently, filmmakers found more mainstream success if the avenger was the victim’s father.

The film that likely brought prominence to the genre was Ingmar Bergman’s 1961 Academy Award winning The Virgin Spring.

The Virgin Spring begins as the story of the titular virgin, Karin (Birgitta Peterson), but after her rape and murder the focus pivots to her distraught father Töre (Max von Sydow).

In 1972, Wes Craven, an admirer of the film, made the much more violent The Last House on the Left, which takes just a beat to focus on the pain and humiliation of Mari (Sandra Peabody), before relishing in the sadistic revenge her parents take on her murderers.

Read more: Wes Craven: the scream of our times

Unlike Mari and Karin, Carol (Kathleen Tolan) of Death Wish (1974) survives her assault, but the film ignores her pain.

Instead, Death Wish focuses on her stoic father Paul (Charles Bronson) and whiny husband Jack (Steven Keats). Jack is heartbroken when he hands the catatonic Carol over to the care of a mental hospital, and Paul takes his grief out on the petty criminals of New York City.

First with a sock full of pennies, and then with a gun, former pacifist Paul becomes a powerful deterrent to would-be criminals, reducing crime in his city by a staggering amount.

This movie has four sequels of roughly the same plot and varying quality (1985’s Death Wish 3, in which Kersey defends an apartment building full of senior citizens, is a lot of fun) and the 2018 remake starring Bruce Willis.

Planning a murder

I have watched an unhealthy number of these movies, but perhaps the most illustrative in this tradition is Taken.

Liam Neeson plays former Green Beret Bryan Mills, who begins the film attempting to rebuild his relationship with 17-year-old daughter Kim (Maggie Grace).

Bryan is horrified when Kim wants to visit Paris accompanied only by her irresponsible friend Amanda (Katie Cassidy). He reluctantly agrees, but his hesitance is vindicated when Kim and Amanda are kidnapped by an Albanian sex trafficking ring.

Bryan travels to Paris and tortures every Albanian he can get his hands on. In one particularly upsetting scene, he electrocutes information out of a mid-level gang member, Marko (Arben Bajraktaraj). When Bryan has what he needs, he turns the electricity on and walks out, leaving Marko to be gradually electrocuted to death.

Eventually, Bryan fulfils his fatherly responsibility by murdering everyone and rescuing Kim.

What women need

Taken ends with Kim back in America with Bryan, apparently not changed at all by her ordeal. She is just as cheerful as she was in the opening scenes.

Of course she is: this is not her story. It is Bryan’s story and he got exactly what he wanted. Kim is safe, and his authority as her father no longer in question.

Even rape-revenge films starring women rarely focused on her internal journey, instead showcasing her acts of incredible violence. But new iterations in rape-revenge centre the protagonist’s path to healing from trauma.

Natalia Leite’s 2017 film M.F.A. (released in Australia as Revenge Artist) brings its audience into the experience of its protagonist Noelle (Francesca Eastwood), who learns that violent revenge may be cathartic, but does not heal her trauma.

Promising Young Woman focuses on a protagonist’s inability to cope with her friend’s suicide following a sexual assault. The HBO/BBC series I May Destroy You follows a woman doing her best to put her life back together after a traumatic assault.

More and more stories are being brought to screen focusing on what a rape survivor needs — rather than who her father wants to punch. This is an industry realising when a woman is raped, it is a tragedy because that woman is a human being, not because she is a daughter.

If this article has raised issues for you, or if you’re concerned about someone you know, call the 1800 Respect national helpline on 1800 737 732 or Lifeline on 13 11 14.

– ref. ‘Rape-revenge’ films are changing: they now focus on the women, instead of their dads – https://theconversation.com/rape-revenge-films-are-changing-they-now-focus-on-the-women-instead-of-their-dads-155456

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Susanne Becken, Professor of Sustainable Tourism and Director, Griffith Institute for Tourism, Griffith University

With each passing day, the grave future of Earth becomes more stark. The disruption of COVID-19 has not been enough to shift the trajectory, nor has it prompted polluting sectors of the economy to reconsider the harms they inflict on the planet.

Nowhere is this clearer than in the global tourism sector. Before COVID-19, international aviation emissions – already a major contributor to global warming – were forecast to potentially triple between 2015 and 2050. Likewise, emissions from the cruise ship industry were also growing.

The pandemic itself can be traced back to humanity’s relentless damage to nature. And mass global tourism is emblematic of this voracious, growth-at-all-costs mentality.

Tourism brings many economic, social and cultural benefits. But it’s time the industry seriously reconsiders its business model, and overall purpose, in a post-pandemic world.

We can’t return to normal

The United Nations is among many voices urging the global tourism industry to address its many sustainability challenges in the wake of COVID-19.

The UN says it recognises tourism’s important role in providing incomes for millions of people. But in a recent policy brief, it said now is the time to “rethink how the sector impacts our natural resources and ecosystems”.

Unfortunately, there’s little evidence that global tourism is looking to transform. For example, the International Air Transport Association is clearly seeking to return to the “old normal”. Its resources guide to support airlines during the pandemic and beyond examines ways to restart the industry, but makes no mention of environmental sustainability.

Similarly, the World Travel and Tourism Council’s 100 Million Jobs Recovery Plan calls on nations to remove barriers to travel, saying traveller confidence is “critical to the sector’s survival and recovery”. Sustainability rates only a passing a mention.

In Australia, the federal government is passing up opportunities to encourage tourism to reconfigure towards a more sustainable model. For example, the Building Better Regions Fund offers A$100 million for tourism-related infrastructure projects that mitigate COVID-19’s economic impact. However, sustainability does not form part of the assessment criteria.

The industry’s immediate focus on recovery is understandable. But the lack of a long-term environmental vision is damaging to both the industry and the planet.

A job half done

Pre-COVID-19, the global tourism and travel industry had begun to address some sustainability challenges.

For example, international aviation is seeking to improve global fuel efficiency by 2% each year until 2050. But this target is “aspirational” and even the International Civil Aviation Authority has conceded it was “unlikely to deliver the level of reduction necessary to stabilize and then reduce aviation’s absolute emissions contribution to climate change”.

Current technological constraints mean decarbonising aviation is challenging. An expected future increase in flight demand will only add to the problem. Globally, 7.8 billion passengers are expected to travel in 2036.

What’s more, tourism’s damage to the environment extends far beyond climate change. It adds to marine plastic pollution, degrades habitat and leads to a loss of wilderness and natural quiet. The industry’s resurgence must address these and other harms.

Read more: Major airlines say they’re acting on climate change. Our research reveals how little they’ve achieved

A vision for the future

People travelling outside their normal context are open to new experiences and perspectives. In this way, tourism presents an opportunity to encourage a new connection with nature.

So what should the future of tourism look like? I and others are advocating for a more sustainable tourism sector that’s vastly different to what exists now. Travel should be closer to home, slower, and with a positive contribution at its core. In this model, all erosion of natural, cultural and social capital ceases.

Practices under the model (some of which already exist at a small scale) might include:

• more travel to regional and local destinations, involving shorter distances. Under COVID-19, the trend towards such tourism has already begun. However, communities must be empowered to determine what type of tourism they want.

• travellers paying a conservation-focused levy upon entering a country, such as those imposed in New Zealand and Botswana.

• the donation of time, money or expertise to support environmental restoration as an integral part of the travel experience. For example, the Adventure Scientists initiative shows people with outdoor skills how to collect environmental information as they travel, providing new data for researchers.

• businesses that “give back” by design. For example, Global Himalayan Expeditions empowers communities by electrifying remote villages in Ladakh, Kashmir. Trekkers co-finance solar panels and carry them as part of their travel experience.

• ambitious industry standards, which ramp up over time, for sustainable management of environmental, cultural and human resources.

The UN Sustainable Development Group has suggested other changes, including:

• a frequent flyer levy
• incentives for domestic tourism
• restrictions on flight advertising
• no more airport expansions in high-income countries
• better transport alternatives to aviation.

Read more: Feeling flight shame? Try quitting air travel and catch a sail boat

Bouncing back differently

The above vision for tourism involves great changes. The industry’s focus must shift from growth and profit to “regeneration” – helping to restore the natural world that humans have so badly damaged.

And the transition must happen gradually, to allow tourism-dependent economies and businesses to adjust.

The global tourism industry will persist after COVID-19. But it must be reimagined as, first and foremost, a public good rather than a commercial activity.

And the goal of ecosystem restoration must be at the industry’s core. Planetary health is inextricably linked to our own well-being – and that of the tourism industry. After all, there’s no tourism on a dead planet.

Read more: Why our carbon emission policies don’t work on air travel

– ref. Tourism desperately wants a return to the ‘old normal’ but that would be a disaster – https://theconversation.com/tourism-desperately-wants-a-return-to-the-old-normal-but-that-would-be-a-disaster-154182

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By James Scott, Associate Professor in Geology, University of Otago

NASA’s Perseverance rover successfully touched down on Mars this morning, and has already begun beaming back images.

But people might be surprised to learn there have been another 48 missions to the red planet so far. Of these, more than half failed at stages from take-off to deployment — including the 1999 Mars Climate Orbiter, destroyed on Mars entry after someone failed to convert imperial measurements to metric.

Successful missions include Mars Insight, which is studying the interior via measurement of “marsquakes”, and the Curiosity rover, which touched down in 2012 and has been examining the geology of Mt Sharp.

Although there have been no return missions, there is a lot we can learn without travelling to Mars — from the more than 260 Martian meteorites that have fallen on Earth.

Read more: As new probes reach Mars, here’s what we know so far from trips to the red planet

Images taken by orbiters reveal Mars has more than 40,000 craters, each formed by an asteroid colliding with the surface. You can explore these craters yourself by going to Google Earth, toggling the Google Mars mode and zooming in.

If some of the debris from the large impacts reached escape velocity (about 5 km/s on Mars), it would be able to leave the planet’s gravitational field. Eventually, some of the ejected Martian material has intercepted Earth’s trajectory, flashing through the atmosphere until it either burned up or came to rest on the surface.

Although Martian meteorites have been found across Earth, most have been collected from Antarctica or the deserts of northwest Africa. In both cases, the black crust that forms as the meteorite partially burns up passing through Earth’s atmosphere stands out clearly against ice or sand.

This mode of interplanetary travel is important because it raises the possibility that life could inadvertently travel from one planet to another. Back in 1996, one Martian meteorite, ALH84001, was controversially thought to contain fossilised bacteria.

Some of the older landers have almost certainly taken Earth bacteria to Mars, since they were not purified before launch.

A bubble of Martian atmosphere

Small planets cool quickly and it has long been suspected that Mars’s core has largely but not totally crystallised. This means Mars has mostly lost the protective magnetic field that deflects cosmic radiation.

But we are confident Mars once had an ocean, containing water as we know it. The temperature was above freezing and conditions were suitable for life. The stripping away of the magnetic field early in Mars’s history means this ocean is long gone and the average temperature is now -65℃, but frosts, clouds and ice caps remain.

Not being fortunate enough to roam the deserts of Africa or the icy plateaus of Antarctica, I instead found my first Martian meteorite sitting in a cabinet in a gem store in the small New Zealand town of Akaroa.

Using a scanning electron microscope, my examination revealed it was a shergottite, one of the most common Martian meteorites — equivalent to what we know on Earth as basalt. If it’s basalt, though, how do we know it’s from Mars?

Read more: How to spot Mars: See the red planet in the sky the day Nasa’s Perseverance rover lands

There are several ways of recognising a Martian meteorite. One is from its gas content. When a meteorite strikes the surface of Mars, the “target” rocks are subject to such great pressures they partly melt and trap Martian atmosphere within gas bubbles. Some of these rocks are then ejected from the planet — becoming meteorites themselves.

The gases in these meteorites can be measured back on Earth and compared to the known Martian atmosphere, which comprises 95% carbon dioxide and distinct noble gas concentrations.

The thousands of craters scarring Mars’s surface mean it is ancient. This was confirmed when one meteorite was dated to be 4.4 billion years old. Properties of some other Martian meteorites show Mars formed within 13 million years of the formation of the Solar System. This in turn means some of the first planetary crust that formed on Mars likely still exists at the surface.

Old and cold — but not dead

This inference, along with some meteorite mineral and isotopic properties, implies Mars has not been shaped by plate tectonics — the global process that formed the continents, mountain ranges and ocean basins on Earth.

And, as most dated Martian meteorites are less than 1.5 billion years old, volcanism has continued throughout its history. Mars may be cold but it is not dead.

Martian meteorites also hold clues about how people may one day be able to survive on the planet.

While living in hollowed out lava tubes in Martian basalt may appeal to some hopeful interplanetary settlers, we’ll ultimately need to build shelters to protect us from the cosmic radiation and vast dust storms that engulf the planet.

Martian meteorites show olivine, a magnesium-silicate mineral, is common. Experiments are underway to assess the use of a breakdown component, magnesium carbonate, to form a concrete binder from which we could fashion buildings.

Martian meteorites show that big insights can be gleaned from little rocks and reveal what Mars is made of.

– ref. As the Perseverance rover lands on Mars, there’s a lot we already know about the red planet from meteorites found on Earth – https://theconversation.com/as-the-perseverance-rover-lands-on-mars-theres-a-lot-we-already-know-about-the-red-planet-from-meteorites-found-on-earth-155459

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By James Scott, Associate Professor in Geology, University of Otago

NASA’s Perseverance rover successfully touched down on Mars this morning, and has already begun beaming back images.

But people might be surprised to learn there have been another 48 missions to the red planet so far. Of these, more than half failed at stages from take-off to deployment — including the 1999 Mars Climate Orbiter, destroyed on Mars entry after someone failed to convert imperial measurements to metric.

Successful missions include Mars Insight, which is studying the interior via measurement of “marsquakes”, and the Curiosity rover, which touched down in 2012 and has been examining the geology of Mt Sharp.

Although there have been no return missions, there is a lot we can learn without travelling to Mars — from the more than 260 Martian meteorites that have fallen on Earth.

Read more: As new probes reach Mars, here’s what we know so far from trips to the red planet

Images taken by orbiters reveal Mars has more than 40,000 craters, each formed by an asteroid colliding with the surface. You can explore these craters yourself by going to Google Earth, toggling the Google Mars mode and zooming in.

If some of the debris from the large impacts reached escape velocity (about 5 km/s on Mars), it would be able to leave the planet’s gravitational field. Eventually, some of the ejected Martian material has intercepted Earth’s trajectory, flashing through the atmosphere until it either burned up or came to rest on the surface.

Although Martian meteorites have been found across Earth, most have been collected from Antarctica or the deserts of northwest Africa. In both cases, the black crust that forms as the meteorite partially burns up passing through Earth’s atmosphere stands out clearly against ice or sand.

This mode of interplanetary travel is important because it raises the possibility that life could inadvertently travel from one planet to another. Back in 1996, one Martian meteorite, ALH84001, was controversially thought to contain fossilised bacteria.

Some of the older landers have almost certainly taken Earth bacteria to Mars, since they were not purified before launch.

A bubble of Martian atmosphere

Small planets cool quickly and it has long been suspected that Mars’s core has largely but not totally crystallised. This means Mars has mostly lost the protective magnetic field that deflects cosmic radiation.

But we are confident Mars once had an ocean, containing water as we know it. The temperature was above freezing and conditions were suitable for life. The stripping away of the magnetic field early in Mars’s history means this ocean is long gone and the average temperature is now -65℃, but frosts, clouds and ice caps remain.

Not being fortunate enough to roam the deserts of Africa or the icy plateaus of Antarctica, I instead found my first Martian meteorite sitting in a cabinet in a gem store in the small New Zealand town of Akaroa.

Using a scanning electron microscope, my examination revealed it was a shergottite, one of the most common Martian meteorites — equivalent to what we know on Earth as basalt. If it’s basalt, though, how do we know it’s from Mars?

Read more: How to spot Mars: See the red planet in the sky the day Nasa’s Perseverance rover lands

There are several ways of recognising a Martian meteorite. One is from its gas content. When a meteorite strikes the surface of Mars, the “target” rocks are subject to such great pressures they partly melt and trap Martian atmosphere within gas bubbles. Some of these rocks are then ejected from the planet — becoming meteorites themselves.

The gases in these meteorites can be measured back on Earth and compared to the known Martian atmosphere, which comprises 95% carbon dioxide and distinct noble gas concentrations.

The thousands of craters scarring Mars’s surface mean it is ancient. This was confirmed when one meteorite was dated to be 4.4 billion years old. Properties of some other Martian meteorites show Mars formed within 13 million years of the formation of the Solar System. This in turn means some of the first planetary crust that formed on Mars likely still exists at the surface.

Old and cold — but not dead

This inference, along with some meteorite mineral and isotopic properties, implies Mars has not been shaped by plate tectonics — the global process that formed the continents, mountain ranges and ocean basins on Earth.

And, as most dated Martian meteorites are less than 1.5 billion years old, volcanism has continued throughout its history. Mars may be cold but it is not dead.

Martian meteorites also hold clues about how people may one day be able to survive on the planet.

While living in hollowed out lava tubes in Martian basalt may appeal to some hopeful interplanetary settlers, we’ll ultimately need to build shelters to protect us from the cosmic radiation and vast dust storms that engulf the planet.

Martian meteorites show olivine, a magnesium-silicate mineral, is common. Experiments are underway to assess the use of a breakdown component, magnesium carbonate, to form a concrete binder from which we could fashion buildings.

Martian meteorites show that big insights can be gleaned from little rocks and reveal what Mars is made of.

– ref. As the Perseverance rover lands on Mars, there’s a lot we already know about Mars from meteorites found on Earth – https://theconversation.com/as-the-perseverance-rover-lands-on-mars-theres-a-lot-we-already-know-about-mars-from-meteorites-found-on-earth-155459

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By James Miller-Jones, Professor, Curtin University

When one of us (Ilya Mandel) started grad school at the California Institute of Technology 20 years ago, he was greeted with a series of bets hanging on the wall outside the office of his PhD advisor, Kip Thorne.

One bet from 1974 was a wager with theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking, on whether an observed galactic X-ray source known as “Cygnus X-1” was actually a black hole feeding on hot gas.

Hawking bet it wasn’t, as a consolation prize in case black holes turned out not to exist (since this would mean a lot of the work he had done would be wasted).

At the time, black holes were exclusively theoretical predictions of Albert Einstein’s theory of general relativity: singularities in the fabric of space-time that prevented anything (including light) from escaping.

By 1990, astronomers were convinced Cygnus X-1, a binary star system, indeed hosted a black hole. Hawking conceded his bet against Thorne.

Three decades later, Cygnus X-1 is a gift that keeps on giving. In a paper published today in Science, our team reports the Cygnus X-1 black hole is heavier than previously thought, weighing about 21 times the mass of the Sun.

This makes it the heaviest stellar black hole — formed from the collapse of a star — ever detected without the use of gravitational waves. As it turns out, perhaps in line with a black hole not wanting to divulge its secrets, Cygnus X-1 still contains many mysteries.

Updated measurements from it are forcing us to revise our understanding of the most massive stars — particularly the rate at which they lose mass in stellar winds.

Introducing Cygnus X-1

Cygnus X-1 is located inside the Milky Way about 7,200 light years from Earth. It comprises what we now know to be a black hole in a 5.6-day orbit around a massive supergiant companion star.

Some of the gas blown off the surface of the star by its strong stellar wind is captured by the black hole. The gas spirals in towards the black hole, forming what’s known as an “accretion disk”.

Powerful jets (the contents of which are still debated) are also launched outwards from near the black hole, travelling close to the speed of light.

We wanted to measure the mass of the black hole. But to do so, we first needed to know how far away it was from Earth.

How do you weigh a black hole?

As Earth moves around the Sun, we see Cygnus X-1 from different vantage points. It appears to move back and forth very slightly against stationary background objects, in an effect we call “parallax”.

The amount of this tiny motion lets us calculate the distance between us and Cygnus X-1. But for an accurate measurement, we also had to take into account the orbital motion of the black hole around its companion star.

With a network of radio telescopes, we mapped out the black hole’s orbit, with a positional accuracy the equivalent of localising an object on the Moon to within ten centimetres.

By using our distance to Cygnus X-1 and the brightness and temperature of the star, we computed the size of the star. With this knowledge and the measured motion of the star during its orbit around the black hole, we could determine the black hole’s mass.

It is almost 50% more massive than previously thought, with a mass that’s 21 times that of the Sun.

Why do we care about its mass?

Seeing a stellar remnant this heavy in our own galaxy offers insight into how much mass stars can lose to stellar winds. In general, the larger and more luminous a star is, the faster its rate of mass loss.

Some stars lose the equivalent of an Earth’s mass of gas (or more) each day. Mass is lost faster if the star has a high concentration of heavy elements, particularly iron.

Black holes are created when massive stars collapse in on themselves. Thus, the heaviest black holes are expected to form from the deaths of massive stars with the lowest iron concentrations, as these would have retained the most mass up until death.

The current iron concentration in our Milky Way galaxy suggests even stars that weigh hundreds of times the mass of the Sun at birth could lose enough of it to leave behind a fairly pedestrian remnant — only a few times the mass of the Sun.

Now, finding a black hole with a mass that’s 21 times the Sun’s tells us these stellar winds can’t be that strong, after all. So it means we need to slightly retune our models of how stars lose mass through their winds.

Likely not a gravitational wave source

Cygnus X-1 is also interesting because it could potentially be a frame from a film showing the formation of pairs of black holes, which later merge to produce gravitational-wave signals.

These waves can be observed using advanced instruments, such as the Laser Interferometer Gravitational-wave Observatory (LIGO) in the United States.

According to our new measurements, the star in Cygnus X-1 weighs more than 40 times the mass of the Sun. It’s therefore massive enough to one day form a black hole in its own right.

Read more: Gravitational waves are helping us crack the mystery of how pairs of black holes form

However, while it’s tempting to say Cygnus X-1 provides a link between pairs of stars and merging black holes, that would come with its own challenges.

For example, as described in a companion paper to our Science paper, published in the Astrophysical Journal, the Cygnus X-1 black hole is spinning on its own axis almost as rapidly as general relativity allows.

By comparison, the merging black holes in LIGO sources have far slower spins. This suggests the pathway by which those black holes formed may have been somewhat different.

In another companion paper we argue Cygnus X-1 won’t make a gravitational-wave source because, after the collapse of the companion star, the resulting two black holes would be too far apart to merge.

Still, many questions remain regarding the history and the formation of Cygnus X-1, as well as its future. There may be a few more bets to be made and resolved, yet.

– ref. 21 times the Sun’s mass: heaviest stellar black hole in the Milky Way is more massive than we thought – https://theconversation.com/21-times-the-suns-mass-heaviest-stellar-black-hole-in-the-milky-way-is-more-massive-than-we-thought-155484

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By David Smith, Associate Professor in American Politics and Foreign Policy, US Studies Centre, University of Sydney

In the second impeachment trial of Donald Trump, seven out of 50 Republican senators voted to convict the former president of inciting insurrection. This has raised more questions than it has answered about where the Republican Party is going.

It still looks like Trump’s party, but for how long? Bill Cassidy, one of the seven Republican senators who voted to convict Trump, says Trump’s power over the party will “wane”. He will certainly hope so. The Republican Party of Louisiana has already censured Cassidy for his disloyalty to Trump.

On the other hand, Lindsey Graham, one of Trump’s top allies, believes Trump and his supporters are so important to the future of the party that Republicans should nominate his daughter-in-law to replace retiring Senator Richard Burr (who voted to convict).

Some in the party see Trump as a major liability who will only get more toxic. He is the first president since 1932 to oversee the loss of the White House and both houses of Congress in a single term. Joe Biden got the highest vote share of any presidential challenger since 1932 in the highest-turnout election since 1900, earning 7 million more votes than Trump.

However much Trump energised his supporters, he energised more of his opponents.

Despite all this, Republicans came within 90,000 votes of winning both houses of Congress and the presidency in 2020. Many Republicans believe Trump is an electoral asset who helped them outperform expectations and narrow the Democrats’ margins nationwide.

Unlike in 2012, there won’t be a Republican Party autopsy of the election defeat. Large numbers of Republicans doubt the outcome of the election, and most of the party’s legislators are unwilling to tell them otherwise.

In any case, the party went in the opposite direction from the path of moderation that the last autopsy recommended, and within four years they were back in control of the whole federal government.

So what might the future hold?

Read more: ‘Trumpism’ in Australia has been overstated – our problems are mostly our own

The party is unlikely to split

The Republican Party has a huge and energetic pro-Trump base that controls the grassroots machinery of the party. It also represents a formidable primary voting bloc.

It has a much smaller but high-profile faction that wants to leave Trump behind, with significant representation among legislators, donors and media commentators.

For now, the two sides are stuck with each other.

In the past few weeks, figures on both sides have threatened to form new parties if they can’t control the direction of the GOP.

These threats have quickly evaporated. The most a new conservative party could achieve is to damage the electoral prospects of Republicans (something Trump might have contemplated in the face of the impeachment threat).

The American electoral system, which is winner-takes-all from top to bottom, is notoriously unforgiving to would-be third parties. Even people who feel alienated from their own parties are better off staying and fighting for power rather than forming a new party, which would never get anywhere near power.

It has been more than 160 years since divisions over slavery destroyed major parties in the United States. The Republican and Democratic parties have survived since the Civil War despite numerous fractures and even violent conflicts.

Congressional outcasts occasionally defect to the other major party. But, more often, members at odds with their party eventually retire and are replaced by new members more closely aligned with its direction. This process is one of the factors leading to the current polarisation of Congress.

Read more: Can Fox News survive without Trump in the White House?

Moderates are being policed more harshly than extremists

Newly elected representative Marjorie Taylor Greene has become the focus of concerns about right-wing extremism in the Republican Party. Greene has a long history of amplifying dangerous conspiracy theories on social media.

Senate minority leader Mitch McConnell warned that “loony lies and conspiracy theories” are “a cancer for the Republican Party and our country”. Greene fired back: “The real cancer for the Republican Party is weak Republicans who only know how to lose gracefully. This is why we are losing our country.”

House Democrats moved to strip Greene of her membership of congressional committees after Republican leader Kevin McCarthy refused to discipline her.

Greene has been forced to back down from her support of QAnon and some conspiracy theories that congressional Republicans consider beyond the pale.

But Greene’s central conspiratorial grievance – that Trump was robbed of a rightful victory in the 2020 election – is an article of faith and a politically energising force for much of the Republican base. Trump raised US$255 million dollars off it in the weeks after the election.

Many Republicans in Congress acquiesced to the “stolen election” fantasy, some with the excuse that they are faithfully representing their constituents. Even McConnell waited weeks before acknowledging Biden’s victory.

Republicans who openly acknowledged Biden’s victory and dismissed claims of widespread election fraud faced anger and censure from state party organisations, as well as from Trump himself. Republicans who backed impeachment saw immediate retribution, and will almost certainly have to defeat well-supported primary challengers in the future.

The historical willingness of American conservatives to police extremism has been overstated. It doesn’t matter that Trump and Greene are poison to the larger electorate. Neither election losses nor the stigma of “extremism” are enough to kill right-wing political movements in America.

Accepting the Republican nomination in 1964, Barry Goldwater declared that “extremism in defence of liberty is no vice”. Goldwater went on to one of the largest electoral defeats in history, but within 15 years his movement, led by Ronald Reagan, had thoroughly conquered the Republican Party, taken the White House and reshaped American political culture. Trump’s followers have similar ambitions.

‘Trumpism’ without Trump could be tough to pull off

No one knows yet what role Trump will play in future Republican politics. His recent attack on McConnell suggests he at least wants to continue to punish Republicans he sees as disloyal. The possibility Trump could run again will make politics awkward for Republicans eager to claim his mantle for their own presidential ambitions.

The prospect of “Trumpism without Trump” has enticed conservatives and worried liberals ever since the Trump phenomenon began. Republicans have learned to rail against “globalism” and the “deep state”. They are unlikely to return to comprehensive immigration reform any time soon.

Trump has breathed new life into old conservative staples such as law and order and the perils of socialism. But Trump’s relationship with his supporters goes far beyond his political positions, or even the grievances and emotions he harnessed.

Trump’s appeal was based on the perception that he had unique gifts that no politician ever had. He cultivated a media image that made him synonymous, however incorrectly, with business success. His tireless verbal output, whether through Twitter or at endless rallies, created an alternative reality for his followers. Many saw him as chosen by God.

That kind of charismatic magic will be extremely difficult for any career politician to recapture. Republicans may discover that Trumpism is not a political movement but a business model, a model only ever designed for one benefactor.

– ref. After Trump, what is the future of the Republican Party? – https://theconversation.com/after-trump-what-is-the-future-of-the-republican-party-154726

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Alexander Gillespie, Professor of Law, University of Waikato

The revelation that Air New Zealand had been silently contracting services to the Saudi Arabian navy was apparently not the only instance of New Zealand’s connection to the murderous war in Yemen.

A week after Air New Zealand apologised to the government, it emerged the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFAT) had approved exports of military equipment to Saudi Arabia in 2016 and 2018.

Both cases involved a startling lack of transparency and direct inconsistencies with both corporate and country commitments to upholding international human rights obligations.

The conflict in Yemen is currently the world’s worst humanitarian crisis. From indiscriminate targeting of civilians to torture, sexual violence and starvation, the situation reads like a textbook case of war crimes.

Since 2014, there have been an estimated 233,000 deaths, including 131,000 from indirect causes such as lack of food, health services and infrastructure. More than 20 million experience food insecurity, and 10 million are at risk of famine.

The war is complex, fed by opposing regional, national and religious ambitions. While all sides justify their involvement, none have clean hands. All have been increasingly brutal in pursuit of their goals.

The first step towards calming the conflict will involve a halt to providing weapons to those forces not fighting in accordance with international humanitarian law — Saudi Arabia included.

Selective embargoes

Despite being on record supporting calls for all parties in the Yemen conflict to abide by international law, New Zealand can no longer deny any potential complicity in this humanitarian abyss.

Efforts to control the situation stretch back to 2014. As well as various peace initiatives, the UN Security Council has mandated a limited arms embargo, which New Zealand complies with. But these are targeted primarily at the Houthi rebels and associated terror groups, not the Saudi-led coalition fighting them.

Read more: Yemen: Understanding the conflict

The inconsistency reflects the power of veto in the Security Council, but a UN panel of experts agreed all parties to the conflict have committed egregious violations of international humanitarian law and international human rights law.

Theory and practice

In theory, the 2013 Arms Trade Treaty should help curtail the trade in weapons to this disastrous conflict. Its signatories (including New Zealand) agree not to authorise any transfer of conventional arms, ammunition, parts and components, if they know such material could contribute to war crimes being committed.

In practice, this meant countries like New Zealand amended export laws to ensure all military and dual-use equipment was strictly controlled and not destined for the wrong places.

Read more: Arab Spring: after a decade of conflict, the same old problems remain

All military-related exports must be explicitly permitted. Permits will be refused if the export violates UN Security Council arms embargoes, contravenes New Zealand’s other international obligations, or if it is known such materials would be used in the commission of genocide, crimes against humanity or war crimes.

Reasonably, there should now be no military trade with the Saudi-led coalition (or the other belligerents). No country can seriously claim not to be aware of the extreme violations of international humanitarian law in Yemen.

Profit over principle

Unfortunately, it seems the excessive profits to be made from a soaring arms trade have pushed aside evidence of war crimes or assassinations (in the case of the extrajudicial killing of Jamal Khashoggi).

Along with the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia and the US (although the Biden administration is reportedly reconsidering its policy), it now appears New Zealand is included in this company.

Initially, New Zealand’s involvement was confined to humanitarian aid, providing millions in assistance. But if the latest reports are correct, the government must end any further military or dual-use engagement and ask how such decisions were justified in the past.

New Zealand’s involvement is comparatively small, but the scale of the trade matters less than its legal and ethical basis.

Read more: Arab Spring: when the US needed to step up, it stood back – now, all eyes are on Biden

Transparency and accountability

The government must also require full transparency from Air New Zealand as its majority shareholder.

The airline has come a long way since it was famously accused of “an orchestrated litany of lies” over the 1979 Erebus disaster. As a putatively responsible corporate citizen it upholds social and environmental sustainability as part of its core values and code of conduct.

Air New Zealand takes these responsibilities seriously enough to have pledged itself to the ten principles of the Global Compact. This UN initiative encourages businesses to adopt sustainable and socially responsible policies, and to report on their implementation.

Principle 2 requires that a company should not be complicit in human rights abuses. Air New Zealand said in its 2020 report to the compact:

We take legal advice in the local jurisdictions we operate in about human rights compliance and require managers across the organisation to comply with all company policies.

So far, none of this adds up — for MFAT, Air New Zealand or the government. An independent review of New Zealand’s involvement in the Yemen crisis — its scale, justification and status under existing laws and principles — is now called for.

– ref. The crisis in Yemen demands an independent review of NZ’s military links with Saudi Arabia – https://theconversation.com/the-crisis-in-yemen-demands-an-independent-review-of-nzs-military-links-with-saudi-arabia-155301

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Xavier Symons, Postdoctoral Research Fellow, Australian Catholic University

The much anticipated rollout of the Pfizer-BioNTech COVID-19 vaccine will begin in Australia on Monday.

The first groups to receive the jab will be quarantine and border workers, frontline health-care workers, aged-care and disability-care workers, and aged-care and disability-care residents.

For aged-care residents, their age, health and living situation makes them especially susceptible to becoming very sick or dying from COVID-19. So it’s right they are receiving priority access to a vaccine.

But there are also ethical issues that arise when administering vaccines to aged-care residents, who often have diminished capacity to provide consent. Health authorities now face a significant challenge to ensure older members of the community feel safe, comfortable and respected during the vaccination process.

A vulnerable group

One challenge of vaccination in aged care is the fact many older people have dementia, or other conditions that affect their ability to communicate and process information.

Around one in 15 Australians over the age of 65 have dementia, and the risk of developing some form of dementia increases significantly once people enter their 70s and 80s. Among a host of challenges, dementia makes it more difficult for people to consent to medical treatment.

Older people with dementia may also become upset and agitated when things change in their routine or living environment. This means they can easily become distressed during medical procedures.

Read more: Why we should prioritise older people when we get a COVID vaccine

Evidence supporting the safety of COVID-19 vaccines is growing every day. We do know, however, that mild side-effects like headache, fever and chills are more common in COVID mRNA vaccines than standard flu vaccines (the Pfizer vaccine is based on mRNA technology).

These mild side-effects may be exacerbated when someone is already frail and suffering from several pre-existing illnesses.

That said, trial data suggests people over the age of 55 are less likely to experience side-effects from the Pfizer vaccine than younger people.

Informed consent

A special team of health-care workers assembled by the federal government will administer COVID vaccines in aged care. These health-care workers must obtain consent from residents receiving the vaccine.

One challenge here is determining whether aged-care residents have capacity to consent. Capacity refers to a person’s ability to make their own decisions.

Generally, a person is said to have capacity if they understand the information relevant to the decision, and the effect of the decision. In the case of vaccination for COVID-19, people must understand they are receiving a vaccine for coronavirus. They must also be made aware of relevant risks and benefits of the vaccine.

The concept becomes more complicated when a patient has a condition like dementia, as their decision-making capacity can ebb and flow depending on the time of day, their location, and the support they have when receiving information.

Read more: Social housing, aged care and Black Americans: how coronavirus affects already disadvantaged groups

Unfortunately, the stigma surrounding ageing and physical and cognitive decline means older patients are sometimes subject to prejudice and inappropriate treatment.

It’s important clinicians avoid making assumptions about older patients’ decision-making capacity before speaking to them, and then provide information in a manner the person can understand.

When health-care workers determine a person doesn’t have capacity to consent, they will require what’s called a substitute decision-maker. This is usually someone who has a close and continuing relationship with the person (such as a partner or other family member).

Many people, particularly in aged-care settings, would have completed the relevant legal documentation to appoint a substitute decision-maker (sometimes known as medical power of attorney). Where a substitute decision-maker has not been appointed, aged-care staff must determine who is legally allowed to make decisions on behalf of the patient.

What can we learn from other countries?

Many countries are already weeks or months into their vaccine rollout, so we can take their experiences into account.

One challenge that’s arisen overseas has been tracking down substitute decision-makers when they’re needed. This process can sometimes take days or weeks.

We should also be prepared for complex situations where substitute decision-makers refuse vaccination for those in their care. In a recent case in the United Kingdom, the British Court of Protection ruled it was in the best interests of an 80-year-old woman with dementia and diabetes living in a care home to have the COVID vaccine, despite her son’s objections.

Similar situations will likely come up in Australia. Aged-care staff should contact substitute decision-makers as soon as possible to avoid unnecessary conflicts.

Some aged-care providers have already released messages to residents and their families addressing common concerns about vaccination in general, and COVID-19 vaccines in particular.

Looking ahead

There will be immense pressure on medical practitioners to deliver COVID-19 vaccines quickly to those who are most vulnerable to infection and illness. It already takes significant time and resources to deliver vaccines in aged-care homes, and there may be a temptation to give less importance to consent procedures.

But it’s vital COVID-19 vaccines are given in a manner that respects the autonomy and dignity of older members of the community.

This is particularly important in light of the disastrous response to COVID-19 outbreaks in aged-care facilities during the height of the pandemic in Australia and around the world. Residents’ dignity and autonomy has already been violated once, and we can and should avoid a repeat.

Read more: The AstraZeneca vaccine and over-65s: we may not have all the data yet, but limiting access could be counterproductive

– ref. COVID vaccine consent for aged-care residents: it’s ethically tricky, but there are ways to get it right – https://theconversation.com/covid-vaccine-consent-for-aged-care-residents-its-ethically-tricky-but-there-are-ways-to-get-it-right-155380

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Kevin Markwell, Adjunct Professor, Southern Cross University

The koala is a much-loved species and lucrative tourism drawcard. Yet, for all its popularity, koalas are forecast to be extinct in NSW within 30 years.

Understanding the koala-human relationship might go some way to saving the species. My research examined the dynamic by tracing the representation of koalas in natural history books, children’s stories, postcards and tourism brochures.

I found that “anthropomorpism” – attributing human qualities to a non-human animal – has helped shift attitudes towards the koala away from the scientific and economic to a more romantic, emotional view. In particular, koalas share physical characteristics with human babies, which further endears them to us.

Anthropomorphism can trigger positive emotions in humans which helps with conservation actions. Ultimately, however, threats to koalas are the result of political decisions in which sentiment plays little part.

Seeing ourselves in koalas

When humans see themselves in other animals, this can engender greater empathy and concern for the species. And the koala, with its human baby-like qualities can be readily anthropomorphised.

Indeed, koalas exhibit “neoteny”, whereby mature animals retain juvenile physical features. This has been shown to trigger positive emotional responses from human adults.

These features include:

• a prominent forehead with eyes positioned below the centre of the head
• rounded head and body
• soft elasticity of the body surface
• a vertical posture.

Newspaper articles published in the first half of the 20th century often infantilised koalas. For instance, an article in the Glen Innes Examiner refers to koalas as “little bears” that sit “up like babies in the trees”.

Koalas even make a crying sound when hurt or upset, adding to their baby-like qualities.

A scientific curiosity

Koalas have not always endeared themselves to post-colonial Australians.

European settlers sought to understand the animal with frames of reference available at the time. As such, the earliest accounts of the koala variously referred to it as a monkey, a sloth, a lemur and a bear.

In the 19th and early 20th centuries, Australians viewed the koala predominantly through a detached, scientific lens. Scientific illustrations and paintings were made of koalas, and information and images were published in natural history and zoology publications.

At the same time, the koala was also seen as an economic resource. From the early 1800s until the 1920s, hundreds of thousands, if not millions, were slaughtered for the fur trade.

Into the 1900s, zoological representations of the koala continued to be published in natural histories. They included Le Souef and Burrell’s The Wild Animals of Australasia, published in 1926, which stated:

The quaint koala, or native bear, a creature which, perhaps, holds the affection of Australians more than any other of their wild animals – a fact for which its innocent, babyish expression and quiet and inoffensive ways are largely responsible.

This passage indicates a shift towards a more romantic view of koalas as akin to humans.

The love affair

Two books published in 1918 encouraged public affection for koalas. Norman Lindsay’s The Magic Pudding, featured an anthropomorphised koala character called Bunyip Bluegum, who wore smart slacks, a jacket and a bow tie. May Gibbs’ Snugglepot and Cuddlepie also included friendly koalas.

The books reached a far wider audience than natural histories. They helped fuel outrage when the open season of koala hunting was declared in Queensland in 1927.

The emergence of the very popular Blinky Bill koala character in 1933 helped further humanise the species.

The rapid rise of photography in the 20th century also helped cement koalas’ public appeal. Groups of koalas were arranged for photos to be reproduced as postcards, often captioned “Australia’s teddy bear”.

Zoologist Ellis Troughton, in his landmark 1931 book Furred Animals of Australia, recorded the special place koalas occupied in the national psyche:

This attractive and rather helpless orphan which has become world famous in caricature and story, holds the affection of fellow Australians more than any other animal of their adopted country.

The popularity of koalas fed into an emerging tourism industry eager to create national distinctiveness in the global tourism market.

Today the koala’s image is still reproduced on tea towels, t-shirts, postcards and other souvenirs. Pre-COVID, the economic value of the koala to Australian tourism was estimated at up to A$3.2 billion a year.

Unlike other native species, koalas now have their own dedicated “hospitals” in three states. At the time of writing, a crowd-funding campaign for the Port Macquarie Koala Hospital, set up after the Black Summer bushfires, had raised almost A$8 million.

And koalas attract far more government funding than most species. For example, research last year showed conservation funding for the koala far outstripped that for the northern hairy-nosed wombat. The wombat is listed as critically endangered while the koala is off less conservation concern – listed as vulnerable in parts of Australia.

Read more: Scientists find burnt, starving koalas weeks after the bushfires

Saving what we love

Anthropomorphism can be a powerful way to generate concern and action for a species. However, there are limits to its effectiveness.

For all their popularity, koalas face extinction in NSW within 30 years. Estimates of the wild national koala population vary from 140,000 to 600,000.

It might seem baffling that such a well-loved animal could be headed for extinction. But the koala’s continued survival depends on political decisions where emotion and public sentiment are so often overridden by economics and vested interests.

Australians clearly care deeply for their koalas. But that sentiment must translate into collective political pressure if the species is to survive.

Read more: Stopping koala extinction is agonisingly simple. But here’s why I’m not optimistic

– ref. Why do we love koalas so much? Because they look like human babies – https://theconversation.com/why-do-we-love-koalas-so-much-because-they-look-like-human-babies-153619

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Donna Pendergast, Dean, School of Educational and Professional Studies, Griffith University

“At the end of the war men returned from the battlefield grown silent — not richer, but poorer in communicable experience”, wrote Walter Benjamin after the first world war. So too, school students may reflect on the pandemic of 2020 and its effect on their experiences.

Almost every day, they heard anxiety-provoking news from across the globe, doled out in rapid fire. Yet many will be poor in the stories of their anticipated rituals and rites of passage to retell in later years.

They have other stories though, of cancellation and loss.

Gather any group of students together and they spontaneously tell different stories — of how their formal was cancelled or modified; how their classes were delivered remotely; how they adjusted to the rules of social distancing; or how they missed the opportunity to celebrate their milestone birthday with friends.

And they are instantly captivated by each other’s experiences.

The telling of stories is a crucial coping device, enabling individuals to situate themselves in relation to a bigger event and to gain perspective on the human experience.

We recommend storytelling using oral, written and creative arts formats, linking key events to form a plot, to adapt and improvise, and to share the story to reveal how very different people can share the same life experience. And how human nature can transcend this moment.

Missing stories

The loss of significant events — whether traditions such as school graduation celebrations, or more mundane everyday losses such as routine sport or other extracurricular activities — can have profound, long-term impacts on students.

Rite-of-passage events, such as formals, are important cultural markers, cementing peer relationships and firming the foundations for ongoing well-being.

Read more: No festivals, no schoolies: young people are missing out on vital rites of passage during COVID

They are the stories we tell again and again during our lives, locating our belonging with and for others. But it is not just a simple loss of moments and unmade memories.

At this crucial stage in the development of the adolescent brain, the foundations are laid for decades to come through their experiences.

The adolescent years, known as the second sensitive period of brain development, are important because this is when shaping of the brain occurs in earnest, in response to the unique environmental experiences of the individual.

This process of synaptic pruning — which starts with the onset of puberty and continues for at least the next five years — results in unused connections being removed. While those that are used are strengthened and “hard wired” with a coating of a substance called myelin.

Memory and processing are enhanced and there is a heightened vulnerability to risk-taking and sensitivity to mental illness because of the intense brain shaping under way.

Read more: The missing middle: puberty is a critical time at school, so why aren’t we investing in it more?

The spectre looms of brains shaped by unmet expectations, disrupted routines, missing significant events, ongoing anxiety, fear and stress about what may be ahead the next day, week, month or year.

Our understanding of neuroscience points to such experiences as paving the way for lifelong reduced outcomes, such as poorer health, lowered educational achievement and the loss of optimism and hope.

Everything is different

The United Nations International Children’s Emergency Fund estimates 1.6 billion students and 91% of schools in 2020 experienced emergency education. That means there was an adaptation to the usual routines of teaching, learning, attendance and curriculum, as a response to the COVID-19 disaster.

There is much talk of schools and universities needing to help our adolescents become more resilient, acquire greater grit, and to be equipped with positive psychology strategies such as learned optimism.

There is a physiological tipping point though, when toxic stress resulting from strong, frequent or prolonged activation of the body’s stress response system, can lead to adverse impacts on brain structures. And students will not learn as before, especially if their brains have become hardwired during times of stress, anxiety and trauma.

How can we ensure our young people are happy and uncompromised along well-being indicators, including a person’s ambitions and understanding of the qualities of their life?

Meeting and slightly exceeding expectations is the key to happiness and well-being. When a person is happy there is an alignment, or a slight increase between what is ideal or expected, and reality.

In a year of unmet expectations, negative impacts on well-being and subjective happiness are unavoidable. This can be seen with numbers seeking the support of mental-health providers increasing dramatically during 2020.

There is a brooding concern identified globally and by the Foundation of Young Australians, that every aspect of how young people

live, learn and work has been forever changed by COVID-19 and will continue to be felt by young people in the decade to come.

The importance of telling the stories of 2020

Young people can benefit from opportunities to create and remember stories, and to use storytelling as a way to come to terms with their experiences of the pandemic, to aid healing and to create optimism for the future — both for themselves and their communities.

Storytelling requires a listener, and hence a community of shared experience emerges, building understanding and acceptance. These are crucial for promoting a sense of belonging and well-being.

The acceleration of change and the likelihood of a “new normal” points to the need to tell the story of how and why change has occurred, and how the individual has experienced this change.

Research in health settings shows storytelling can be therapeutic. People telling stories as a way of dealing with topics such as trauma, anxiety and illness, are “encouraged to work through their experiences and reflect on and deepen their understanding of what really matters in their lives”.

Health professionals have increasingly been drawn to collective storytelling for this reason. Now, more than ever, it is needed in schools and in universities, where teachers intersect with the lives of students constantly and have the capacity to make a significant impact.

The lived experiences and disappointments can be shared through the development of storytelling skills, such as learning how to appreciate multiple points of view and that listeners and tellers can perceive events differently. These can provide us with a way to chronicle, share, and make meaning of experience, thereby enabling a retelling of the events, even when they reflect a poverty of expectations.

Read more: ‘The stories a nation tells itself matter’: how will the COVID generation remember 2020?

Teachers are the pivotal gate keepers of the future in so many ways, not only in grade setting but in recounting stories of success, both personal and from near and far, opening new future-oriented windows of opportunity to think and act.

In doing so, we reconnect with the important processes of adolescent cognition to rewire the brain, leading to the potential for a more optimistic, hopeful perspective rather than one of disappointment, loss and regret.

The importance of storytelling for all students will continue to grow as we tread the uncertain path of 2021 and beyond.

– ref. Fears loom for teens undergoing vital brain development during COVID. Telling stories might help – https://theconversation.com/fears-loom-for-teens-undergoing-vital-brain-development-during-covid-telling-stories-might-help-155295

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Samantha Donnelly, Lecturer, School of Architecture, University of Technology Sydney

Australia urgently needs housing types that meet the needs of older women facing homelessness. One such model is Chinese siheyuan courtyard housing, which provides safe, affordable and private living spaces while maintaining a sense of community. It has potential for adapting existing buildings for re-use in Australia in a way that makes financial, social and environmental sense.

Women over 45 are one of the fastest-growing groups of people who are homeless in Australia. In 2020, an estimated 405,000 women over 45 were at risk of housing affordability stress and hence becoming homeless. Considering the shortage of affordable housing, an ageing population and the lifelong economic disadvantage that women experience, this problem requires a speedy solution.

Read more: 400,000 women over 45 are at risk of homelessness in Australia

A simple (and obvious) solution for older women facing homelessness is to provide them with access to appropriate, safe and affordable homes for the long term. So why is this problem so difficult to solve?

Recent attempts to meet this need for older women’s housing include “pop-up” or “meanwhile use” accommodation in vacant aged-care facilities and tiny houses. While both types provide good short-term options, they do not create long-term housing that meets older women’s needs to age in place and have secure tenure and a sense of belonging. All these aspects are important for their well-being.

Read more: ‘Meanwhile’ building use: another way to manage properties left vacant by the COVID-19 crisis

What if we were to take the idea of adapting existing buildings and merge it with the idea of tiny homes? Chinese courtyard housing – siheyuan – has some important principles that could be culturally adapted to the Australian context.

Finding new spaces in old stock

Adaptive reuse involves the conversion of new spaces within old ones. An existing building is recycled by integrating a new set of functions into the existing skin to suit the needs of new inhabitants.

This is not a new concept – think of the Hagia Sofia in Istanbul, originally a mosque, then church, now museum. Or Paddington Reservoir in Sydney, originally infrastructure, then petrol station, then ruin, now urban performance space.

Adaptive reuse works on a triple-bottom-line approach: economic, environmental and socio-cultural. Recycling an existing building is cheaper, better for the environment and ensures the collective memory of a place is not erased. For buildings as for older women, respect for age, connection to place and care for the environment are important.

Read more: Unused buildings will make good housing in the world of COVID-19

Chinese wisdom in an Australian context

The name “siheyuan” translates into quadrangle courtyard housing. This type of housing comes from traditional Confucian ideas of the extended family unit, arranged around a courtyard or series of courtyards with graduated levels of privacy.

The interesting thing about the siheyuan arrangement is the highly ordered series of rooms with private units organised around open spaces and communal halls for gatherings. In Beijing today, an estimated 400,000 courtyard houses remain. About 500 have been preserved as historic sites.

The hierarchical order of the siheyuan presents a great opportunity for adapting it to suit the needs of older women. It’s a type of co-housing arrangement: people live independently but together, sharing some facilities like open space and areas to come together for occasional meals. This model could form part of the rise in shared housing configurations.

Read more: Co-housing works well for older people, once they get past the image problem

The courtyards meet the needs of older women to maintain a strong connection to a garden space, with potential for them to be active in maintaining this area. The courtyards promote social contact and exercise, as well as space for quiet contemplation. This interior-landscape connection is important to the well-being of older women.

The hall serves as a social connector. It’s a place for communal activities, connecting with family or friends, creative projects or listening. Women retain their sense of independence; they decide when they participate.

Another important requirement for older women is to have the space to welcome family and friends, so they maintain their social connections to the world. The hall is an efficient way to share space that everyone needs, but only some of the time.

The private units ensure the independence, safety and sense of belonging that older women need. Cultural and social needs are met easily within one’s personal domain.

The small luxury of having a room of one’s own should not be underestimated. Many older women have rarely had this luxury. For them, it provides much-needed dignity.

Read more: What do single, older women want? Their ‘own little space’ (and garden) to call home, for a start

The adaptation mindset

This sort of adaptive reuse is not just about what we do with existing buildings. It’s also about adapting cultural wisdom, and ideas from the past, to develop alternative ways of living together. Many currently underutilised or vacant buildings in Australia could be adapted to courtyard housing.

It will need a radical shift in policy and developer-driven economics. But this opportunity would meet so many current needs of older women, be good environmental practice and provide social housing. As Confucius said, “Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.”

The financial burden on taxpayers and service providers is dramatically reduced by providing secure affordable housing in the first place. The solution to the problem of homelessness lies not in our obsession with new housing models or new development, but perhaps, if we look hard enough, in our existing urban fabric. Right under our noses, existing buildings offer opportunities ripe for adaptation.

Read more: What sort of housing do older Australians want and where do they want to live?

– ref. How Chinese courtyard housing can help older Australian women avoid homelessness – https://theconversation.com/how-chinese-courtyard-housing-can-help-older-australian-women-avoid-homelessness-151378

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Hunter Fujak, Lecturer in Sport Management, Deakin University

Netball Australia has signed a five-year deal it describes as “ground-breaking”.

Every game of every round of each year’s Super Netball competition will be broadcast live and ad-free on Foxtel platforms including its sports streaming app Kayo Sports.

For viewers who don’t want to part with cash, two games each week will be available live and free on Kayo Freebies, although viewers will have to hand over their email and other details.

That several events will be free is good for Netball Australia — it gives it potential access to the mass audience it would have had on free-to-air TV – and also good for Foxtel because it will pioneer a way of getting around the anti-siphoning rules that are meant to ensure major events can be watched by everyone.

Rugby Union is doing something similar.

From tonight every match will be shown live on Stan Sport, part of the movie streaming platform Stan owned by Nine, under a three-year deal worth a reported A$100 million.

Enough matches will be shown free on the Nine network to satisfy the anti-siphoning rules.

Read more: The TV networks holding back the future

The Rugby deal replaces an earlier one with Foxtel, which used the Ten network to broadcast free matches.

Cricket is now broadcast on both Foxtel and the Seven Network, a deal Seven is reportedly trying to get out of. It means fans must now subscribe to watch domestic men’s One Day Internationals for the first time.

Anti-siphoning antiquated

Australia’s anti-siphoning laws were enacted with the birth of pay TV thirty years ago in order to ensure all Australians retained access to “culturally significant” sports and events.

So-called “broadcast events notices” specify events that, in the opinion of the minister, “should be available free to the general public”.

Among those currently on the list are every event at the Summer and Winter Olympic games, the Melbourne Cup, every match in the AFL and AFL premiership competitions, and each cricket test played in Australia or overseas by a representative team chosen by Cricket Australia.

The rules don’t compel free-to-air networks to broadcast these events, but they do require them to be given first dibs.

While broadly successful in securing sporting events for free-to-air television and the viewing public, the rules are becoming battle weary.

‘Freemium’ not tested

Netflix, Amazon, Twitter, Facebook, Stan, Kayo, Telstra and the smartphone didn’t exist when the rules were drawn up.

The rules as written appear to allow Kayo to pursue a Spotify and YouTube-style “freemium” strategy while fulfilling the requirements of the legislation.

Read more: Fight over live-streamed sport to go on after final bell sounds

As worded, the law refers to events “available free to the general public” rather than events available on free-to-air TV.

Kayo is opening the way for Fox Sports and others to meet the formal requirements of the anti-siphoning laws while raiding sports until now housed on free-to-air TV, the AFL and Rugby League among them.

Netball the canary in the coalmine

A key question will be whether access via an app is really “free”. Surrendering email addresses and demographical information in return for watching isn’t quite the same as free. Facebook and Google have made it more than clear that such data is valuable.

The stakes are high for sport leagues, media outlets and fans.

It has been argued that even in the hypothetical absence of an anti-siphoning list, most sports would be well served to choose a free-to-air broadcast partner to maximise their exposure and popularity.

Super Rugby’s 25-year decline behind a Foxtel paywall is used as a cautionary tale.

Sport accounts for about only 10% of commercial television air time, yet rates consistently highly. Sport, news and reality television account for all of free to air’s top twenty programs.

Free-to-air’s share of the advertising market is at present predicted to decline from 20% in 2018 to 14% in 2023.

The loss of sport could send it into an even faster nosedive.

– ref. Regardless of the rules, sport is fleeing free TV for pay, and it might be an avalanche – https://theconversation.com/regardless-of-the-rules-sport-is-fleeing-free-tv-for-pay-and-it-might-be-an-avalanche-154640

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Henry Reynolds, Honorary Research Professor, Aboriginal Studies Global Cultures & Languages, University of Tasmania

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers are advised this article contains images of deceased people.

Historical research of the last 20 years has confirmed the central importance of the killing times. They lasted far longer and were much more deadly than generations of Australians were led to believe.

For many years the truth was either deftly avoided or consciously suppressed. Aboriginal families kept alive their own memories of those terrible times, even if they were not necessarily aware of the broader national story.

A pioneer Queensland pastoralist who had worked for years with Indigenous stockmen came to appreciate the continuing legacy of the violent early years, or what he termed “the remembrance of the blood red dawn of their civilisation”.

Once anthropologists and linguists began to work in First Nations communities in the 1930s and 1940s, they too learnt how vigorously alive were memories of historical violence. They should perhaps have known more about it but often didn’t. Their education had let them down.

The violence, the “line of blood”, was well known in colonial society. It had been discussed and argued about from the earliest years in New South Wales and Tasmania. The central points of contention still confront us.

Read more: Of course Australia was invaded – massacres happened here less than 90 years ago

Was it an inescapable companion of colonisation? Was it a case of forced appropriation or none at all? Were all the colonists, including those with no experience of the frontier, complicit by remaining in Australia? Did the new societies bear a collective moral burden? Or was it necessary to distinguish the culpability of free settlers from that of the convicts and the Australian-born children?

“This right to Australia is a sore subject with many of the British settlers”, a Victorian pioneer noted in the 1840s, “and they strive to satisfy their consciences in various ways”.

At much the same time, the South Australian settler Francis Dutton thought that the claims of the blacks were “superior to ours”, although his contemporaries were “too eager on all occasions … to persuade ourselves that such is not the case”.

The Aboriginal question “gave rise to more argument” than any other matter in Queensland in the 1860s according to the editor of the Rockhampton Bulletin.

Running close to the colonial debate about the morality of settlement was the unavoidable question of frontier conflict. Was it a form of warfare even if of quite a distinctive kind? Or were the pioneer settlers murderers? Were they heroic pathfinders or criminals?

There were very few court cases where such questions might have been assessed and therefore publicised. On the other hand, war and homicide were matters widely understood, each with their own place in the popular mind. So there was no consensus, no resolution that has been passed down to us. We have to resolve the matter ourselves.

Our most important war

There were always settlers who opted for warfare as the way out of the moral quandary of colonisation. And many of the military men who lived and worked in NSW and Tasmania talked openly of war. Many of them were career officers with battle experience.

It is not surprising therefore that many of the historians who have rewritten the history of frontier conflict over the last 40 or so years have followed in their wake. More to the point is that since at least 1990, Australia’s professional war historians have both accepted and promoted the idea that frontier conflict must be considered alongside Australia’s overseas wars.

But that can only be the start of a significant transformation in the way we think about both the frontiersmen and the warriors of the First Nations who confronted them all over the continent.

Rigorous truth-telling will be of critical importance here, but that can only be part of the required transformation. The telling must be heard and treated with gravity. Changes in traditional accounts of national history will have to be accepted.

Read more: Friday essay: Truganini and the bloody backstory to Victoria’s first public execution

Above all, we must bring together the ways we think about and commemorate the two forms of national war-making … the many overseas campaigns on the one hand and the war fought in Australia for the ownership and control of the continent on the other.

The truth-telling will have achieved its ultimate purpose when Australian children are able to consider that the long-running and widespread conflict that accompanied Australian life for 140 years was arguably our most important war.

Aboriginal people on the frontier

But how can two such disparate narratives be spliced together? It will clearly take time and will need steady and persistent commitment. Many small threads will have to be engaged. Complexity will have to replace simple sagas of heroic settlement. For instance, few people appreciate that Aboriginal people participated from the earliest years in the outward thrust of the frontier.

The first expeditions that pushed out into the interior were invariably accompanied by Aboriginal escorts who acted as guides and diplomats. They were able to find their way across country, discover water, track straying horses, hunt and gather food. They could quickly construct temporary shelters and simple bark rafts to ford rivers.

Their value was so obvious that it became a settled custom for expeditions, both private and official, to recruit young men and women to act as valued auxiliaries. When the squatters surged out into the interior of NSW, Aboriginal people went with them and quickly developed the skills that made them valued and competent stockmen and women.

Children, often enough kidnapped, were taken along as personal servants and eventually sexual partners. Once the vast savannah lands of the tropical north were occupied, local Aboriginal people became the mainstay of the workforce, given the scarcity, cost and unreliability of white labour.

They were an essential component of the successful establishment of the northern pastoral industry and, consequently, the principal claim the settler Australians could make to prove they were in effective occupation of as much as a quarter of the continent.

The same skills made young Aboriginal men ideal troopers for native police forces in Victoria, NSW and particularly Queensland. Their bushcraft was essential to the success of the northern force in crushing the resistance of the First Nations over a vast area of the colony. They were also much cheaper to maintain than a comparable force of European troopers.

There seems to be no precise record of the number of Aboriginal young men who served in the force. In his history of the Native Police, The Secret War, Jonathan Richards listed just over 250 white officers who spent varying periods of time out in the field. But he provided no estimate of the equivalent number of Indigenous troopers.

There must have been hundreds and possibly as many as a thousand. The conclusions that follow from this are compelling. The troopers almost certainly killed more Aboriginal people than the settlers.

Read more: How unearthing Queensland’s ‘native police’ camps gives us a window onto colonial violence

In total, they may have been responsible for up to a quarter of all deaths in the frontier wars all over Australia. This too has to be part of our truth-telling.

The response of many people when this matter is raised is to express amazement that the troopers could shoot their own people and assume they must have been coerced into killing. But the critical point is that the idea that the First Nations were members of one race or one people was a European one and had little bearing on the situation on the ground.

The young troopers were invariably campaigning far from their own homeland in country previously unknown among people foreign to them. And the locals were people to be feared. If the troopers were caught away from their detachment they would almost certainly have been killed, and this kept them together as much as the discipline imposed by white officers.

So whether as paramilitary troopers, workers, trackers, guides, servants and sexual partners, many hundreds of Aboriginal Australians were participants in the outward thrust of the frontier.

The implication is inescapable. Many Indigenous families have ancestors who were pioneers in the precise meaning of that term, both black and white, whether recognised and acknowledged or not.

White fear

Truth-telling allows us to weave new stories and to make old ones richer while, at the same time, more complex. This is particularly true when it comes to our understanding of frontier warfare. The common view is that the Aboriginal peoples were, for much of the time, passive victims of European brutality.

Such ideas help explain the one-time common view that the Aboriginal peoples were quite unable to put up a spirited resistance of the kind seen in New Zealand and North America, that they were “pathetically helpless” in their response to the invaders of their homelands.

Such opinions, common among professional historians until the 1960s, underpinned the idea that we had a uniquely peaceful history. Since then, the violence of the frontier has flooded back into the national story. But the overwhelming idea of Aboriginal people as victims of irresistible violence has lived on as a powerful political weapon, readily mobilised to assault the conscience of white Australia. Still, as is often the case, good politics makes bad history.

A few days’ research among the documentary records of the colonies would dispel these ideas. It was understood at the time that white fear was overwhelmingly important. The brave frontiersmen were terrified of the Aboriginal people. The evidence for this will be found everywhere.

A Sydney Morning Herald journalist who toured North Queensland in the 1880s concluded that “mere wanton slaughter would be unknown if the natives were not feared so much”.

Some years later, on the other side of the continent, the government resident at Roebourne reported that the “fears of whites are more the cause of disorder than the aggression of blacks”.

This should come as no surprise. In most frontier districts the invading force was spread very thin. The small parties were almost everywhere outnumbered by resident bands. They were in country they knew little about. It looked, felt and smelt dangerously exotic. They had no maps and had no idea where Aboriginal parties periodically disappeared to.

The people they were displacing had a profound knowledge of their own land. They were in many cases taller, stronger and better nourished than the Europeans, who got by on a very limited diet. And they were hunters trained from childhood.

They could track the intruders and stalk them without being seen or heard, and throw their spears with lethal force and accuracy. Guns were important, particularly late in the 19th century when men on the frontier carried revolvers and high-powered repeating rifles.

But it was the horse that had tipped the balance in the invaders’ favour. Their power, speed and endurance made all the difference on the vast open plains of inland Australia.

When speaking in their own defence, frontiersmen insisted that they acted in response to Aboriginal aggression. A typical argument was advanced by the editor of the Hodgkinson Mining News who wrote in 1877:

It is not the rule that the white men are the aggressors. The first settlers came peaceably onto the land they had got by right from the Crown, and no sooner had they done so than the hostilities of the natives compel them to adopt not merely defensive but offensive measures.

It was special pleading but there is no doubt the frontiersmen, like invaders anywhere, would have preferred to achieve a bloodless usurpation.

The editor’s comment nudges us, however, towards an enhanced understanding of the frontier wars. It was Aboriginal resistance that determined where and when conflict broke out and for how long it lasted. And that was clearly the result of innumerable political decisions, made often at band level, about how to respond to the white men.

Initially there was a choice of attempting to accommodate the intruders, avoiding them altogether or spying on them in order to gather information about them. The fateful decision to begin forceful resistance often took some time.

It may have begun with a compelling desire to carry out a revenge mission aimed at a particular individual for what would have been a crime in traditional society — the kidnapping and rape of a kinswoman, for instance.

From that point on, violence spiralled out of control. Attacks on vulnerable white men were often combined with the killing of sheep, cattle and horses; the burning of huts and crops; and the pillaging of undefended camp sites.

The fighting continued until the Aboriginal bands decided that the cost they were paying was too high. Once again there must have been intense and urgent debate about how to bring the merciless killing to an end.

And even then, the question of how to negotiate a capitulation must have occupied time and thought. But everywhere, sooner or later, the survivors were, in the victors’ words, “let in” to pastoral stations, mining camps or rudimentary townships.

Not everyone was willing to surrender, and small parties of what the white men called myalls continued to live independently in remote areas of their homeland.

‘We are at war with them’

The explorer Edward Eyre was one of the people who was able to look beyond the conventional view that the warriors were dangerous but lacking martial virtue. He observed that:

It has been said, and is generally believed, that the natives are not courageous. There could not be a greater mistake … I have seen many instances of an open manly intrepidity of manner and bearing, and a proud unquailing glance of eye, which instinctively stamped upon my mind the conviction that the individuals before me were very brave men.

From an admiration of Aboriginal bravery it required a further step to regard the warriors as heroic patriots defending their homelands, although that was one too demanding for most colonists. It required an even-handed approach difficult to sustain in times of conflict and that threatened to undermine the legal and moral foundations on which the Australian colonies rested.

It was the war in Tasmania in the 1820s that produced one of colonial Australia’s most provocative manifestos. It was printed in a Launceston newspaper at the very end of five years of conflict. The author J.E., assumed to be the young surveyor James Erskine Calder, posed what he called some solemn questions about the islands’ Aboriginal peoples. He declared:

We are at war with them: they look upon us as enemies – as invaders – as their oppressors and persecutors – they resist our invasion. They have never been subdued, therefore they are not rebellious subjects, but an injured nation, defending in their own way, their rightful possessions, which have been torn from them by force.

Given the time that it was written that was provocative enough. But J.E. followed the logic of his position much further arguing:

What we call their crime is what in a white man we should call patriotism. Where is the man amongst ourselves who would not resist an invading enemy; who would not avenge the murder of his parents, the ill-usage of his wife and daughters, and the spoliation of all his earthly goods, by a foreign enemy, if he had an opportunity? He who would not do so, would be scouted, execrated, nay executed as a coward and a traitor; while he who did would be immortalised as a patriot.

Why then shall deny the same feelings to the Blacks? How can we condemn as a crime in these savages what we should esteem as a virtue in ourselves? Why punish a black man with death for doing that which a white man would be executed for not doing?

They were challenging questions then. They remain so today.

Warriors as patriots

I came across J.E.’s letter years ago and have used it in several books. I have also read it to audiences in many parts of Australia. In almost all cases people have found it a complete surprise. They are amazed that a colonist would publish such an enlightened letter almost 200 years ago. They correctly assess that his questions still confront and challenge us.

Can we, by which I mean Australia as a nation, regard the First Nations’ warriors as patriots? Can we immortalise their heroic defence of their homelands? We have a great deal of experience when it comes to remembering and commemorating our citizens who have died in conflict. No expense is spared. The phrase “Lest We Forget” is surrounded by a sacred penumbra.

But do we want to allow the heroes of the First Nations to join the chosen ones? Do we want to extend to them the honours we award to the war dead from all our overseas engagements?

Do we want to honour them with a place in the nation’s pantheon? Do we want to share the honours we have hitherto preserved for our warriors who fought on foreign soil? See it as a national priority? If the answer is yes, what would be required?

Memorials to our overseas wars can be found all over the continent, even in the smallest and most isolated villages. In his book Sacred Places, Ken Inglis estimated that there are more than 4,000 war memorials of one kind or another.

And then there are the tens of thousands graves cared for by the War Graves Commission in Australia and many places overseas. During the carnival of first world war commemoration we witnessed between 2014 and 2018, old monuments all over the country were refurbished and avenues of honour replanted.

A new museum costing $100 million was built in northern France to commemorate the achievements of the AIF. Meanwhile the Australian War Memorial had achieved an unparalleled place in national life. Visiting schoolchildren are taught that it is where they must go to understand what it means to be an Australian.

It is now described by the director of the institution as the “soul of the nation”, a view endorsed by Defence Minister Linda Reynolds, who has said the memorial embodies “the soul and the psyche of Australians”. The government has recently granted it half a billion dollars for a highly controversial building program.

Read more: Gargoyles and silence: ‘our story’ at the Australian War Memorial

The memorial’s apotheosis has been achieved during the years when many aspects of Australian history were transformed and in particular our new understanding of the magnitude of the frontier wars.

But rather than embrace the new historiography, the memorial has turned its back on it, despite the highly relevant research and writing of many of the Canberra-based war historians, some of whom have actually worked inside the institution.

The reason for this recalcitrance has never been convincingly outlined. The most common explanation is that while frontier conflict has been accepted as part of the national story, it should come under the aegis of the National Museum rather than the War Memorial.

A new national museum

The War Memorial’s implicit disrespect for the warriors of the First Nations represents a case of profound moral failure. It has let us all down. It was made worse by a parallel political failure as a consequence of the complete lack of interest in the subject from all sides of the federal parliament.

The problem could have been resolved so easily. One formal ceremony would have woven the two traditions together. The placing of a tomb for the unknown warrior in the heart of the memorial next to the grave of the unknown soldier would have been an event of immense national importance, a symbol of respect, inclusion and reconciliation. What a difference that would have made to the way we feel about ourselves!

There seems little chance now that this will ever happen. We will have to persist with two separate stories of war. The inescapable implication is that the nation itself is deeply divided, its soul bifurcated and located in different places.

But if the two histories are to be told in different ways and in distinctive institutions, they must be given equal resources to not only continue the truth-telling, called for in the Uluru Statement from the Heart, but to enable the truth to be proclaimed and illustrated in a compelling way.

The call must be: “If not inclusion then equality”.

What is clearly required is a new national museum dedicated to the frontier wars and supported with the same level of funding that is received by the War Memorial.

It will be expensive, but if $100 million can be lavished on building a museum dedicated to a few years of fighting in France, that is the least that should be expected to establish an institution here dedicated to the story of the conflict experienced in all parts of the continent over 140 years.

The new institution could then provide advice and encouragement to regional organisations to consider ways to research and commemorate the war fought within their own traditional boundaries.

Not every community would necessarily respond, but the variety of the chosen manner and form would likely provide an exhilarating experience for locals and visitors alike. In some places the descendants of the white pioneers might be invited to participate in the commemoration.

Museums and monuments are important instruments to both remember the past and to engage in truth-telling.

This is an edited extract from Truth-Telling: History, Sovereignty and the Uluru Statement by Henry Reynolds, New South Books.

– ref. Friday essay: it’s time for a new museum dedicated to the fighters of the frontier wars – https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-its-time-for-a-new-museum-dedicated-to-the-fighters-of-the-frontier-wars-155299

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Michelle Grattan, Professorial Fellow, University of Canberra

Scott Morrison has been wounded by the public revelation this week of an alleged rape in Parliament House. But the fear must be that along the way Brittany Higgins, the young woman whose story shocked the country, has become a victim twice over – not just of the incident itself but also of the fallout these past days.

Politicians praise her courage in coming forward, but some use her trauma in their own cause.

For the media, her experience has fed into the recurring narrative of bad behaviour in Parliament House, and the wider one of violence against women. It’s been salacious.

But where will Higgins be left when the political and news caravans move on? In a personally bad place, one suspects. This is the cost of speaking out sometimes.

The political focus of the issue moved from whether or to what degree Linda Reynolds, then defence industry minister, fell down in her duty of care to her staffer, to when Morrison and his office knew about Higgins’ alleged assault by a colleague in Reynolds’ office in March 2019.

Read more: To fix the culture in Canberra, we need to take a sledgehammer to male privilege

Morrison says he first knew of the rape allegation on Monday this week, and his staff only learned of it on Friday last week.

The prime minister threw Reynolds under the proverbial bus for not telling him, with a rebuke delivered in the House of Representatives.

At one level, of course the PM should know about a crime allegedly committed under his workplace roof. The question of whether Reynolds should have told him is, however, debatable.

If she had made the information more widely available, Reynolds would not just have breached Higgins’ privacy but possibly, given the nature of politics, jeopardised her prospects.

As it was, post-election Higgins had job offers from several ministers and went to Michaelia Cash’s office, where she apparently got on well.

Morrison was being expedient in his public swipe at Reynolds for staying mum. But if Reynolds feels any private resentment she might recall she had the benefit of Morrison’s expediency before the election, when he took the unusual step of promising she’d be defence minister if he won. He wanted to bolster his credentials on women.

Reynolds this week gave a general apology to Higgins but, apart from meeting her in the room the incident took place (the minister’s own office), it is not clear where her treatment of her staffer was at fault.

Higgins said on Wednesday Reynolds’ then chief of staff, Fiona Brown, who primarily handled things, “continually made me feel as if my ongoing employment would be jeopardised if I proceeded any further with the matter”.

Yet Reynolds wanted Higgins to seek police action (while recognising her right not to). She did speak to the police, as did Reynolds. It is understandable Higgins felt she was choosing between laying a complaint and protecting her career. But if Reynolds advised her to pursue a complaint, presumably she would have stood by her if she had done so.

On Thursday Reynolds said in the Senate: “I made it clear to Brittany that she would have my full support in whatever course of action she decided to take”.

Not long after the incident, Higgins told Brown how appreciative she’d been of her support and advice.

On the other hand, text evidence shows Higgins, reacting to unrelated reported bad behaviour, later referring to how she’d received little help in the wake of the assault. Not surprisingly, her mood varied.

Brown is very relevant to the row over what Morrison knew and when.

Previously working for now-ambassador to Washington Arthur Sinodinos, Brown is described by one staff source (not in the PM’s office) as a sensitive, maternal figure who’d follow proper process.

She’s currently in Morrison’s office. She knew everything about these events. If Morrison says Reynolds should have passed on the information, doesn’t he think Brown should have done so?

His “Chinese walls” justification for apparent double standards sounds ludicrous.

He told Parliament there was a convention a staffer didn’t talk about what happened in a previous office they’d worked in.

“That knowledge related to her time in that [COS] role. Not in her role in my office. […] Seeking to conflate those things […] and to suggest that involves a knowledge of my office […] would be misplaced,” he said.

If such a convention existed (before this week), surely it would apply only to work matters – policy discussions and the like.

More probably, if Brown said nothing it was because she thought the issue closed or, like Reynolds, she was being discreet.

Whatever Brown did or didn’t do, Morrison’s claim that his office was unaware of the allegation until late last week is self-evidently false and illogical, because Brown was fully across it. The thing nobody in the office knew was that it was about to become a big story.

There’s another strange aspect about Morrison’s timeline. He says his office learned of the allegation on Friday February 12. That was when journalist Samantha Maiden made inquiries. She published her report on news.com.au early Monday.

Read more: Morrison invokes Chinese walls defence on why staffer didn’t tell him of Higgins’ rape allegation

We know Maiden was dealing with the Prime Minister’s office through last weekend. Morrison has a bevy of senior media advisers. It’s odd they didn’t alert him that Maiden, a tiger when she’s on the scent, might be about to cause him grief.

Morrison certainly knew he was walking on eggshells after the story broke, but plunged increasingly into trouble, not least when he smashed the whole egg carton by invoking Jenny’s advice to think as a father.

At a political level, the Higgins issue has been a test of four high-profile Senate women: two ministers, Reynolds and Cash, and Labor’s Senate leader and deputy, Penny Wong and Kristina Keneally.

Wong and Keneally are among the opposition’s fiercest attack dogs, and homed in on Reynolds, who after the rebuke at first stonewalled, then made a statement on Thursday. The strain was showing – she broke down when dealing with a separate matter.

Higgins was still employed in Cash’s office when she decided to quit recently.

In an emotional account, Cash told the Senate she tried to persuade Higgins to stay, and offered to accompany her to the police if she wanted to make a complaint. Cash, who says she only learned of the rape allegation on February 5, also offered to go with her to Morrison’s office. But Higgins declined, saying she wanted to preserve her privacy.

Their discussion was after Morrison stood beside Australian of the Year Grace Tame, an advocate for survivors of sexual violence – an image Higgins has pointed to as one trigger for her decision to go public.

It is not clear what mix of motives caused Higgins to go public. It is clear she is now very vulnerable.

– ref. Grattan on Friday: Scott Morrison dealt poorly with a young woman’s shocking story – https://theconversation.com/grattan-on-friday-scott-morrison-dealt-poorly-with-a-young-womans-shocking-story-155570

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Joanna Groom, Laboratory Head, Walter and Eliza Hall Institute

A new Australian study, published overnight in Nature Communications, gives an insight into how kids’ immune systems respond to infection with SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19.

It’s the first study, to my knowledge, that directly compares children and adults with mild COVID.

Children are less likely to become infected, and when they are, they are more likely to be asymptomatic. This is in contrast to other viral and respiratory infections that are more prevalent among young people.

This new research helps explain how kids’ immune systems work when confronted with the coronavirus — and gives us clues as to why they generally seem to fare better than adults.

Read more: Worried about your child getting coronavirus? Here’s what you need to know

The kids (immune systems) are alright

The researchers studied 48 kids, mostly in primary school, across 28 households during Melbourne’s second wave. All children were exposed to the coronavirus in their households by infected parents.

This study focused on the “innate” immune response in children, which forms the early part of the immune system’s attack on a virus (or bacteria, or other pathogens). The innate immune system plays an important role in viral protection before the body raises antibodies.

The study found there were dynamic changes in kids’ early immune responses, compared with coronavirus-infected adults.

Read more: Explainer: what is the immune system?

One key innate immune cell that was elevated in children exposed to the virus was a type of white blood cell called “neutrophils”. These cells patrol the body for infections. When they discover a pathogen, they have a unique ability to respond by trapping and killing the invading pathogen (in this case, the coronavirus).

This role may ensure the virus is not able to infect more cells. This potentially decreases the “viral load”, basically the amount of virus in your body.

For some of the kids in the study, the early immune responses kept the viral load so low that they never returned a positive test, despite being tested throughout the study and having been exposed to coronavirus.

One strength of this study is that it was “longitudinal”, meaning it studied families over time, rather than simply at one point in time. The researchers looked at immune responses of the families just after their exposure to the virus, and returned more than 30 days later to see what had changed. This allowed them to identify the key changes induced because of the exposure to the virus.

Kids vs adults

A key question arising from this research is: why did the kids show such strong immune responses, resulting in few or no symptoms, while their parents were very ill?

It’s a difficult question to answer, at least so far. But the key differences in responses are likely to lie in the early responses of the immune system.

There is some previous research that might give some clues.

One theory surrounds the fact that children have less of the receptors called “ACE2” in their respiratory tract. These receptors are the pathway of entry for the virus into our cells. In theory, less ACE2 receptors mean less chance for the virus to break in and infect our cells. Virus’ don’t survive for very long outside a cell. With less ACE2 receptors, it may give more time for the innate immune cells to control the virus as much as it can while waiting for other immune cells to come along and help.

Read more: ACE2: the molecule that helps coronavirus invade your cells

Another possibility relates to “interferons”, which are alert signals released by cells to tell the body there’s a virus around. Researchers think higher levels of interferons during the early phase of an infection are very important for controlling coronavirus. Potentially, interferons may help promote the increased neutrophils that were seen in children, compared with lower numbers observed in adults.

The wide range of symptoms in COVID are intriguing and frustrating at the same time. Conventional wisdom was that kids are more prone to getting sick with respiratory illnesses than adults — just ask any parent! But with COVID it seems to be the opposite.

Often when we think we’ve nailed down a specific mechanism as to how this new virus works and how our bodies respond to it, it turns out such a mechanism is different across different people. We can see this in the huge range of symptoms that different people display — some get a runny nose, others get a cough, and others suffer extreme exhaustion and respiratory distress or develop “long COVID”, in which symptoms drag on for months.

Coronavirus is still keeping immunologists on their toes. Studies like this one help solve some of the puzzle in understanding who’s at most at risk of severe disease and why.

Read more: Five life lessons from your immune system

– ref. Why do kids tend to have milder COVID? This new study gives us a clue – https://theconversation.com/why-do-kids-tend-to-have-milder-covid-this-new-study-gives-us-a-clue-155555

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By David Tuffley, Senior Lecturer in Applied Ethics & CyberSecurity, Griffith University

In denying news content to its Australian users, Facebook is arguably overplaying its hand, behaving as a big company that thinks it can intimidate governments.

If it keeps doing this, it will ultimately lose customers, and that’s the last thing Facebook wants.

Perhaps you’re already considering breaking up with Facebook, whether in reaction to the news ban, or out of a broader unease about its business model, which profiles its users with the goal of earning revenue from targeted advertising.

If so, the good news is it’s definitely possible to delete Facebook. Or, if you’re not ready to go the whole hog, you can certainly minimise your footprint on the platform.

From Facebook’s arrival page, there’s a drop-down menu in the top right corner (marked with a downward arrow icon). Click on this icon, then hit Settings & Privacy > Settings > Your Facebook Information > Deactivation or Deletion.

If you deactivate your account it goes dormant but all the data are still there. This is a good option if you want to just take a break, or if you’re the kind of person who fancies a “detox” from Facebook and is back on it two weeks later.

Selecting “delete” from the same menu is a stronger option. If you do this, Facebook says it will delete your account, but it’s a little bit unclear about what happens to the data. This means we can’t say definitively that all data gets deleted, never to be seen again.

In the European Union, the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) includes giving users the “right to be forgotten” from the internet, so no one can dig up awkward information about what you did 20 years ago. This extends to EU citizens living in Australia.

Australia’s Privacy Act guarantees a person’s right to request their records and to request corrections to inaccurate records. It also guarantees protection against unwarranted invasion of their privacy resulting from the collection, maintenance, use and disclosure of their personal information.

What if you have a change of heart after deleting your Facebook? Data is always recoverable if you really want it, although it would be very difficult.

Good housekeeping

There is a third way: a “social media spring clean”, which goes a step further than the standard “cull” of Facebook friends. It involves rebooting your entire Facebook presence by replacing your existing account with a new one that connects only with your most trusted friends.

First, decide which of your friends you want to stay in touch with, and then tell them you’re replacing your old account and to expect a new friend request from you soon.

Then set up a new account, with the settings set to the privacy level you are comfortable with, and your connections limited to just a few trusted people.

Read more: If you don’t like Facebook, you can leave – it’s easier than you think

The whole purpose of Facebook — in Facebook’s view, at least — is to collect enough demographic data about users so they can use clever AI to target advertising. It’s awesome how good they’re getting at that, and the more data they get, the better they get.

Their whole modus operandi is to keep you on the platform for as long as possible so they have more chances to show you advertising. That’s the whole reason they want you there.

By just hanging onto your closest friends, and starting with a clean slate, it’s possible to slim this enterprise down.

Keeping prying eyes away

Via your settings, you can also ask Facebook to show you which third-party apps are currently using data from your Facebook account. Some people have dozens or more of these, and all of them are potentially accessing your data to profile you. I’m personally not comfortable with that, and I have very few third-party apps looking at my data.

If you see Facebook posts containing phrases such as “if you want to know who’s been looking at your profile, click here”, some of these are little more than Trojan horses for data harvesting.

It goes even further than that: your friends’ settings can also allow third-party apps to gain access to your personal data. This kind of practice sits in a grey area in terms of ethical informed consent.

Read more: Shadow profiles – Facebook knows about you, even if you’re not on Facebook

You might be very careful about what apps you use, but some of your friends might be more reckless. If you’re doing a social media spring clean, it’s probably wise not to re-friend that old work colleague who always posts personality quizzes with titles like “which household appliance are you?”

Life after Facebook?

There’s no shortage of other platforms that people can use. Popular alternatives include LinkedIn, Twitter, Reddit, Parler and MeWe. Bear in mind that Facebook also owns WhatsApp, Pinterest and Instagram. There has been talk recently about data being shared across all four Facebook-owned platforms.

Over time, Facebook accounts accumulate more and more dross, and it’s all data for the platform’s algorithms. Facebook wants you to build up hundreds and hundreds of friends, and it’s all grist to their mill.

It’s good to do a periodic spring clean of all your social media accounts – not just Facebook. Take out contacts who are no longer relevant, or who you can’t remember how you ever came to be friends with them.

If you want to take it to the next level, deactivate your Facebook account and take a break. Or delete it and set up a new account with only the friends you really want.

The ultimate is to simply take the entire account — and the probably gigabytes of data Facebook has accumulated on you — and cast it into oblivion.

– ref. Feel like breaking up with Facebook? Maybe it’s time for a social media spring clean – https://theconversation.com/feel-like-breaking-up-with-facebook-maybe-its-time-for-a-social-media-spring-clean-155559

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Caroline Fisher, Co-author of the Digital News Report: Australia 2020, Deputy Director of the News and Media Research Centre, and Associate Professor of Journalism, University of Canberra

Facebook’s decision to remove Australian news from its platform is the latest gambit in a running stoush with the federal government over its proposed news media bargaining law.

For months, the tech giant has been threatening to restrict Australian news on its service. On the eve of the legislation being passed, it made good on its threat.

In the heat of the power struggle between the government and Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg, it is important to refocus the debate on the users who will be most impacted by the decision.

Our research indicates Facebook’s blocking decision is likely to hurt regional, elderly news consumers the most.

A study of local news consumption by the News and Media Research Centre at the University of Canberra shows 32% of people in small local government areas with populations under 30,000 have been turning to social media to fill the news gap.

Newspaper closures and job losses have hit regional Australia hard. More than 100 local news outlets have closed during the COVID-19 pandemic. Removing news from Facebook will further restrict the choices of people with already limited access to news.

Read more: Facebook has pulled the trigger on news content — and possibly shot itself in the foot

More than a quarter (27%) of those who experienced news closures in their local area use social media to get local news, compared to only 16% of those who did not experience a closure.

While younger generations use social media more than older generations, they get news from several social media platforms. For older people, Facebook tends to be the only social media they use for news. Therefore, they are more likely to be affected by this block.

Where do Australians get their news?

While certain marginalised groups will be impacted more than others, it is important to remember that for most Australians in a hybrid media environment, Facebook is just one source of news.

The Digital News Report Australia 2020 shows three-quarters of news consumers get their news from two or more different online and offline sources.

While Facebook is by far the most popular social media platform for news in Australia (39%), almost all consumers use more than one platform to get their news. Only 6% of Australians use Facebook to access news to the exclusion of all other social media platforms.

Further, the use of Facebook for news is plateauing globally. In Australia, it has fallen from 45% in 2016 to 39% in 2020.

While news consumption generally surged in the early months of the COVID-19 pandemic, international studies show news consumption is returning to pre-pandemic levels.

Prior to this decision by Facebook in Australia, there were indications news organisations were considering ways of reducing their dependence on the major platforms. A study by the Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism shows 76% of media leaders identified the importance of increasing digital subscription more than advertising revenues.

Adding to concern about misinformation

Another concern is that if there is no longer news on Facebook, people may be more vulnerable to misinformation. The majority (64%) of Australians already have high levels of concern about misinformation, especially on Facebook (36%). This is higher than their concerns about misinformation on news websites or apps (19%), and other social platforms.

In particular, Australians are concerned about misinformation from Australian governments, politicians and political parties (35%) and activist groups (20%), compared to 14% who are worried about journalists and news organisations being a source of misinformation.

This is worrying given Facebook is removing the more trusted news sites from their platform and leaving behind partisan sources.

Read more: Why Google is now funnelling millions into media outlets, as Facebook pulls news for Australia

News consumers might have to change their habits

If this is permanent and Facebook maintains its block on Australian news, then news consumers need to change their behaviour.

At the moment, 31% of online news consumers go directly to news websites, whereas 37% come across news on social media. Those whose main source of news is social media (16%) are less likely to go directly to news brands compared to those who use TV (27%).

To help news organisations break their dependency on the tech platforms, they need to encourage citizens to go directly to their branded websites or apps.

This might prove difficult because those who access news via social media are less interested in news than those who seek it directly.

One-third of people with low interest in news come across it while they are using social media. For these people, news is incidental – like having the radio on in the background.

Perhaps paradoxically, one of the unintended consequences of the mandatory News Media Bargaining Code might be that some Australians end up with fewer places to get reliable and trustworthy news.

– ref. As Facebook ups the ante on news, regional and elderly Australians will be hardest hit – https://theconversation.com/as-facebook-ups-the-ante-on-news-regional-and-elderly-australians-will-be-hardest-hit-155557

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Lisa M. Given, Dean, Research and Development, Swinburne University of Technology

Information is everywhere, right? Well, here in Australia, we now have one less source of news information at our fingertips.

Today, Facebook banned Australian users from posting news links, and sharing or viewing Australian and international news content. This will have a far-reaching impact on many organisations and groups.

For the public – people of all ages, demographic backgrounds and political persuasions – this represents a dramatic and powerful imposition of control over how we find, share and critique information in our daily lives. How will we cope with this shift?

Facebook, like other social media platforms, offers a useful way to engage with family, friends and colleagues. We share recipes online, we send weather reports to relatives in other countries, we watch videos of our nephews’ first steps. And we share the news of the day.

Another COVID lockdown in Melbourne? I share news stories with family in Canada so they know I’m safe. The US Capitol under siege? Australians tracked the tumultuous events in Washington, many of them via trusted news outlets posting content on Facebook.

Read more: Facebook has pulled the trigger on news content — and possibly shot itself in the foot

The challenge is compounded by Facebook’s heavy-handed definition of a “news organisation”, which has also seen it restrict access to many other (non-news) organisations, temporarily in some cases. Earlier today, users found pages missing for the Bureau of Meteorology, non-profit organisations such as 1800Respect, politicians, community groups and others.

Many of the affected pages have since been restored, and Facebook does have an appeal process, but it’s unclear whether members of the public can engage in recommending sites be reinstated, rather than the site’s administrators themselves. It’s not clear now long it will take to bring all of the unduly affected sites back online.

Social media shapes our lives

In our book Looking for Information, my colleague Donald O. Case and I documented the importance of social media and news sources in shaping people’s daily lives. In my research, I explore how people find, share, make sense of, and critique information – not just from news media, but from all corners of their lives.

I have conducted research with children, university students, hospital patients, farmers, and many other people who rely on trusted sources to make daily decisions.

Read more: Banning news links just days before Australia’s COVID vaccine rollout? Facebook, that’s just dangerous

Although the news media represent a key resource for most people, it’s the information shared by close contacts, debated by friends, family and trusted public figures, and used or applied by people we trust, that matters the most.

What’s more, people are very adaptable when it comes to finding the information they need. The adage “where there’s a will, there’s a way” certainly holds true here.

Here are some straightforward ways to fill the gap left by Facebook’s restrictions:

• Australian news organisations’ websites, apps and print subscriptions

• non-Australian news organisations’ apps and websites

• other social media platforms, such as Twitter, that feature Australian news.

There are also some craftier strategies you can use to get around the restrictions, including:

• scrolling through content on international organisations’ Facebook pages (such as www.facebook.com/nytimes) while not logged into your account

• accessing Facebook subpages (such as www.facebook.com/nytimesscience) while logged into your account; these appear not to be affected by the ban in the same way as the organisations’ main Facebook pages

• taking photos and screenshots of sources to share on Facebook, instead of direct links

• asking friends, family and others overseas to send articles via email or messaging services.

These examples demonstrate a few ways Facebook users will adapt and change in this new landscape. The worst outcome would be if people simply stop reading the news.

Read more: Why is it so hard to stop COVID-19 misinformation spreading on social media?

Our research (for example with Australian farmers using social media) shows people will use the path of least resistance in looking for information. This means they might just scroll through what’s in front of them online, without realising what’s no longer there.

Although some readers will be very savvy and know how best to navigate the news without Facebook’s help, others need support. We can use this as an opportunity to educate and support those around us, so people continue to get the information they need, when they need it, and in a way that allows them to continue to engage across their social networks of trusted contacts.

– ref. Facebook’s news is gone. Here’s where to turn for trusted information – https://theconversation.com/facebooks-news-is-gone-heres-where-to-turn-for-trusted-information-155558

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Louise Chappell, Scientia Professor, UNSW

As the government looks for ways to address the toxicity of Australia’s parliament for the women who work there, it’s important to consider the underlying issue that pervades Australian politics: male privilege.

In making public allegations of rape by a colleague, former parliamentary staffer Brittney Higgins identified what needs to be done to protect women in the future — a review of the Members of Parliament (Staff) Act and an independent body to handle complaints.

The precarious nature of staffers’ employment has been identified as a key issue in the power imbalance that can leave employees vulnerable to bullying and abuse, with nowhere to turn.

Read more: Why political staffers are vulnerable to sexual misconduct — and little is done to stop it

But these matters have been aired before, most recently in November, when the Four Corners report Inside the Canberra Bubble put the spotlight on the behaviour of two senior Cabinet ministers, Alan Tudge and Attorney-General Christian Porter.

In a workplace of lawmakers, why is it so hard to make changes to the way parliament operates? And how can we implement the necessary policy reforms to improve gender equality?

Unpacking privilege: what our research finds

Our research points to male privilege as the key stumbling block – and shows how it entrenches women’s disadvantage.

In a new paper, we examined two male-dominated workplaces in Australia — politics and construction. Instead of focusing on women’s under-representation in these fields, we looked at it from the viewpoint of men’s over-representation and privilege.

In both sectors, male privilege acts as a barrier to the attraction, retention and progression of women. We found this playing out in three different ways.

1) A culture of denial

In the construction sector, the culture of denial keeps women from being recruited into jobs. When asked about the lack of gender diversity in the sector, men typically respond by saying, “Women don’t want to work in the jobs that we work in”.

In politics, the culture of denial often takes the form of “turning a blind eye”. In many cases of sexual assault, including this latest matter relating to Higgins, senior staff have been made aware of complaints of sexual harassment and abuse, but none responded appropriately.

In the majority of these cases, women who have been victimised leave their jobs, further entrenching those in power who fail to take these matters seriously.

2) Perceptions that rules are neutral and applied objectively

In both of these male-dominated arenas — construction and politics — there is a narrative that rules and procedures are gender-neutral and applied objectively. However, this prevents any serious questioning of the rules themselves.

The fact there are no codified rules or sanctions in parliament to address sexual harassment and assault is just one example of how this plays out. Both professions are geared around men’s expectations and the view that their experiences are universal.

3) Backlash and resistance to keep the gender status quo in place

There’s no shortage of examples of the backlash to the growing presence of women in Australian politics.

In a 2019 speech about the Liberal Party’s “women problem”, former Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull admitted that reform was needed to recruit more women.

At the same time, he anticipated that moves towards quotas would be made difficult by backlash at the grassroots level from Liberal Party members.

It’s time to stop tinkering around the edges

In response to Higgins’ allegations, Prime Minister Scott Morrison has initiated three inquiries. They will focus on a new code of conduct for Coalition MPs, a mechanism to enable staff to make complaints externally and the working culture of parliament more broadly.

Leaving aside concerns about the independence of these inquiries, what is most important is they get to the heart of the structural issues that keep male privilege intact.

There are some good examples overseas of steps to support this kind of institutional change.

The first step would be the introduction of an independent reporting system for all parliamentary members and staff – one that protects the anonymity of the person reporting a complaint and is enforceable with sanctions.

Read more: Is Canberra having a #metoo moment? It will take more than reports of MPs behaving badly for parliament to change

In New Zealand, the parliament is also grappling with these issues. The 2019 Francis report found widespread bullying and harassment in the parliamentary workplace there, as well as allegations of sexual assault and racism.

The parliament is making progress on implementing the recommendations of the report, including a code of conduct to make parliament a safer workplace.

In the UK, Professor Sarah Childs, a gender and politics expert, published a comprehensive report on women’s representation and inclusion in parliament in 2016. It provides a blueprint for reform, with recommendations including cross-party agreement on unacceptable and unprofessional behaviour in the House of Commons.

In 2019, the Inter-Parliamentary Union, a global organisation of national parliaments, also published guidelines on eliminating sexism and gender-based abuse from parliaments.

It detailed five important elements for handling complaints. Such systems must be

• confidential

• responsive to the complainants

• fair to all parties

• based on a thorough, impartial and comprehensive investigation and

• timely.

Read more: View from The Hill: Linda Reynolds feels the lash after Scott Morrison says he was blindsided by rape allegation

The male privilege in Australia’s parliament has given its members such a sense of exceptionalism, they seem to think the standards of the corporate office or roadworks site should not apply to their workplace.

But there’s no reason why conduct that would be banned on a construction site should be treated any differently inside Parliament House. Whether a woman wears a hardhat or a lanyard, both have an equal right to safety at work.

– ref. To fix the culture in Canberra, we need to take a sledgehammer to male privilege – https://theconversation.com/to-fix-the-culture-in-canberra-we-need-to-take-a-sledgehammer-to-male-privilege-155553

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Claudia Santori, PhD candidate, University of Sydney

Citizen science is ripe with benefits. Programs can involve hundreds, sometimes thousands, of volunteers who collect reliable, long-term and geographically widespread data. These people donate their time for a cause (or just for fun).

For biodiversity conservation, these kinds of data are invaluable to enable important large-scale projects, from assessing wildlife recovery after bushfires to shedding light on how warming oceans threaten fish.

But we’ve found the benefits of citizen science extend well beyond data collection.

In a new research paper, we show how our environmental citizen science program TurtleSAT is not only an important source of knowledge and skill development, but also influences participants’ attitudes and behaviours towards the environment.

Saving the turtles

TurtleSAT has so far engaged more than 1,600 volunteers who collect observations of freshwater turtles. Almost 10,000 sightings have been registered since it launched in 2014. The data will ultimately help turtle conservation and management across the country.

Turtles live in most freshwater habitats across mainland Australia, from wetlands to rivers, and are a vital component of the ecosystem. For example, in previous research, we revealed turtle scavenging can remove fish carcasses from the water five times faster than natural decomposition, dramatically improving water quality.

But turtle numbers have been in steep decline since the 1970s, mainly due to fox predation, road collisions, diseases and poor water quality.

Read more: From Kangaroo Island to Mallacoota, citizen scientists proved vital to Australia’s bushfire recovery

The benefits of the TurtleSAT app to scientists have been clear from the start. Most recorded turtle sightings (alive and dead) have involved turtles crossing roads and nests that are either intact or have been destroyed by foxes.

This has allowed researchers and communities to identify road death and nesting hotspots — and then do something about it.

Creating environmental stewards

However, the benefits to participants were less clear. So, we surveyed them to gauge any changes in behaviour or attitudes since they got involved.

Of the 148 participants who responded, most (70%) said they’ve learned more about turtles and feel like they’re helping them by participating. After one of our school workshops, for example, a parent told us she didn’t know turtles could live outside the ocean until her daughter began participating in TurtleSAT.

After learning about the turtle population decline, 39% of respondents started restoring habitats, 35% protected nests and 30% implemented pest management mechanisms, such as fox control and predator exclusion fences.

Importantly, 70% of respondents said participating in the program made them more worried about turtles than they were before.

These findings show how a mostly self-directed project can provide benefits to citizen scientists, while also providing a platform for them to contribute to the conservation of animals they love.

Local issues motivate action

Citizen science programs link the fields of science and the humanities to create an educated and informed public that knows how to solve problems and, most importantly, care enough to do so.

One reason many people aren’t motivated to address climate change and other global issues is the effects are relatively distant from their day-to-day living.

Most people aren’t forced to confront the specifics of climate change (such as extreme weather disasters) in their everyday lives, and so can treat it as an abstract concept. Simply put, this doesn’t motivate people to act.

Citizen science programs, however, can show how climate change does actually affect participants. They become equipped with the information and tools to make significant positive changes to their local area and, most importantly, see direct outcomes.

For example, when citizen scientists spot migratory birds in their neighbourhood, it can help researchers develop long-term databases to evaluate whether changes in migration timing can be attributed to average spring temperature changes.

Read more: Birdwatching increased tenfold last lockdown. Don’t stop, it’s a huge help for bushfire recovery

Likewise, we’re monitoring the timing of turtle nesting with TurtleSAT, as many turtles in eastern Australia are cued to nest in late spring. Similar research found Loggerhead sea turtles were nesting earlier due to warmer ocean temperatures.

This knowledge wouldn’t have been possible without long-term citizen science data.

Local action, global significance

Making a difference at a local level can even address global issues, such as extinction risks. Citizen science may now re-define the phrase “think global, act local” to “think local, act local, network global”.

The I Spy a Wollemi Pine survey, for example, encourages people from all around the world to log sightings of Wollemi pine. These trees are cultivated in many countries, but fewer than 1,000 remain in the wild.

The simple act of paying attention to nearby trees means scientists can learn what environments the Wollemi pine can tolerate, and better protect it from extinction.

Read more: Backyard gardeners around the world are helping to save Australia’s deeply ancient Wollemi pine

Joining in is easy

Technology advances have largely driven the explosion of citizen science projects over the last decade. Most people have a computer, camera and GPS in their pockets when they carry their smartphone, so taking part in a citizen science project has never been easier.

If you’re interested in joining a project, you can jump on board one that’s already established, or even develop your own for a common environmental issue in your local area.

You can search for citizen science programs through the Australian Citizen Science Project Finder. To help you get started, check out:

• WomSAT: if you have a passion for wombats and are concerned about road mortality and disease (such as mange)

• Frog ID: a fantastic app where you can record frogs croaking in the night and an expert will identify the species for you

• Sea Slug Census: snorkelers and divers can upload photos and discuss the identities of some of these weird and wonderful creatures

• 1MillionTurtles: thanks to the success of TurtleSAT, we’re launching a community conservation program where people can actively help restore declining turtle populations.

Read more: Clicks, bonks and dripping taps: listen to the calls of 6 frogs out and about this summer

– ref. Our turtle program shows citizen science isn’t just great for data, it makes science feel personal – https://theconversation.com/our-turtle-program-shows-citizen-science-isnt-just-great-for-data-it-makes-science-feel-personal-155142

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Geoff Masters, CEO, Australian Council for Educational Research

I handed down the final report of a two-year review of the New South Wales school curriculum in June 2020. One of the review’s key recommendations was to introduce what I called “untimed syllabuses”. This is where students who need more time for their learning are given it, and those ready to move on to the next stage are able to do so.

The NSW government has agreed to trial this recommendation over the coming years.

I made this recommendation in response to a problem teachers had identified. They explained the current curriculum lacks flexibility. It expects every student of the same age to learn the same things at the same time. This sounds fair, and it might be if all students began the school year ready for the year’s curriculum.

In reality, as the Gonski report observed, evidence from testing programs shows the most advanced students in each year of school are about five to six years ahead of the least advanced students. Instead of beginning on the same starting line, students begin each school year widely spread on the running track.

Despite this, they are all judged against the same finish line: the year-level curriculum expectations.

Some students are behind, others ahead

The differences we see in students’ performances mean many students begin each school year one, two or three years behind average for their year group and struggle. At the end of each year, they are required to move to the next curriculum, often not having mastered the content of the current curriculum.

For some, the year-level curriculum becomes increasingly beyond their reach and they fall further behind each year. The low grades they receive fail to reveal the progress they are making and reinforce their belief they are poor learners.

By 15 years of age, according to the OECD’s Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA), one in five Australian students has failed to achieve even a minimally acceptable level of reading or maths. Another one in five has failed to achieve a “proficient” standard (that is, a challenging but reasonable expectation) in these basics. Many of these students have struggled with year-level curricula throughout their schooling.

Read more: Aussie students are a year behind students 10 years ago in science, maths and reading

Worse, the students most affected are those also disadvantaged by their socioeconomic circumstances.

At the same time, some more advanced students, who are ready for more challenging material, are prevented from advancing to the next curriculum until the allotted time has elapsed.

This is not an observation about teachers; they do the best job they can to meet the needs of individual students. But teachers work within the constraints of a timed, lock-step and sometimes crowded curriculum that expects them to deliver the same content to everybody.

A 21st century approach

The 21st century requires a more flexible and personalised approach. Learners of the future will learn anywhere at any time, progressing at their own rates, often with the support of technology. In this world, there will be no place for determining what individuals are ready to learn from their age.

My proposal is for a curriculum consisting of a sequence of levels through which every student progresses, but not necessarily at the same pace. This provides teachers with a frame of reference for establishing where individuals are in their learning and ensuring every student is taught and challenged at their current level.

Under this proposal, schools would continue to be organised into year groups and students in each year group normally would work in mixed-ability classes. The difference is that students in the same year group could be working at different curriculum levels.

This is not the same as streaming. When students are assigned permanently to different instructional groups, they usually become “locked in” to those groups, with the result that ceilings are set on how far some students can progress. Under my proposal, every student progresses over time through the same sequence of curriculum levels.

Read more: Could academic streaming in New Zealand schools be on the way out? The evidence suggests it should be

Rather than simply judging all students against the same finish line, this approach recognises and rewards the progress individuals make over the course of a year, regardless of their starting points. Every student is expected to make excellent progress every year.

Is this backed by research?

It has long been established — including through the work of American psychologist David Ausubel and Soviet psychologist Lev Vygotsky — that the way to maximise learning is to stretch or challenge learners in a way that is appropriate to the points they have reached in their learning.

Students do not learn effectively when given material for which they are not ready or material well within their comfort zones. However, this is the experience of many students in our schools.

A number of countries have recognised the importance of providing every student will well-targeted learning challenges. Some, such as high-performing Finland and Estonia have dedicated teachers or small-group teaching for students who slip behind in their learning. Others, such as Scotland and Wales, have restructured their curricula into levels or “steps” through which all students progress.

Read more: Estonia didn’t deliver its PISA results on the cheap, and neither will Australia

Arguments against my proposed approach sometimes claim it is “fair” to hold all students to the same age-based expectations. But fairness is not achieved by treating all students equally — it depends on recognising individual differences and meeting each student’s current learning needs.

It is also often argued the best way to improve performance is to hold all students to the same standards. But this is what is currently done in Australian schools, with no evidence of improvement in either NAPLAN or PISA. The best way to lift standards is to ensure every student is presented with appropriately challenging material.

My review recognised that restructuring the school curriculum would be a major undertaking that would require time to test and get right. As many teachers observed, increased curriculum flexibility is essential if every student is to learn successfully and achieve their potential.

– ref. Why the curriculum should be based on students’ readiness, not their age – https://theconversation.com/why-the-curriculum-should-be-based-on-students-readiness-not-their-age-155549

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Nicholas Wood, Associate Professor, Discipline of Childhood and Adolescent Health, University of Sydney

From Monday, people at high risk of COVID-19 will be lining up to receive the Pfizer vaccine, marking the start of Australia’s long-awaited COVID vaccination program.

We’ve heard about the need to store the vaccine frozen at about -70℃ — a temperature well below freezing and unusually cold, even for Antarctica. The vaccine also comes in a multi-dose vial, meaning the vaccine will have to be diluted then individual doses taken from the vial.

These two aspects make the Pfizer vaccine rollout one of the most complex vaccine programs ever delivered. So all nurses and doctors set to give the Pfizer vaccine in Australia need to have gone through special training in how to store, handle and administer the vaccine.

If you’re one of the high-risk groups set to receive the Pfizer vaccine from next week — because of your occupation or you are in aged- or disability care — here’s what goes on behind the scenes to get the vaccine from the freezer into your arm.

Once the vaccine leaves the freezer, the clock starts ticking

Once the vaccine is removed from the “deep freezer” there is no turning back; we don’t want to waste any of these precious vaccine doses.

As you would expect, the vaccine needs to be thawed before it can be injected. Once this happens, it cannot be re-frozen; it must be used.

Read more: How mRNA vaccines from Pfizer and Moderna work, why they’re a breakthrough and why they need to be kept so cold

The thawing process has rules. Frozen vials are transferred from the freezer to a fridge set at 2-8℃ to thaw. A pack of 195 vials, containing about 975 doses, may take three hours. But it can sit in the fridge for up to five days, if needed. To speed things up, it is possible to thaw the frozen vials for 30 minutes at temperatures up to 30℃. But then, the vaccine needs to be used within two hours.

Either way, people must be lined up ready to be vaccinated to avoid wastage.

Once thawed, the vaccine needs to be mixed gently. So the vaccinator needs to turn each vial up and down (invert it) ten times. They cannot shake the vial as the vaccine is fragile.

Then each vial is split into individual doses

One of the challenges with the Pfizer vaccine is that it comes in multi-dose vials, containing enough vaccine for five or six doses.

Nearly all current vaccines in our national immunisation program are single-use. Many come already prepackaged in the needle and syringe. So for many vaccinators, “drawing up” and giving a vaccine from a multi-dose vial will be new. This too has rules.

The vaccinator first needs to clean the top of the vial with an antiseptic swab. This is important to ensure the vials remain free from contamination.

Then the vaccinator injects a set amount of sterile saline into the vial, through the top, to dilute the vaccine. Care must be taken not to introduce contaminants during this part of the process.

The vial then needs to be turned up and down ten times to make sure the saline mixes with the vaccine. Again, the clock is ticking. Once the vaccinator injects the saline into the vial and mixes it, the vaccine must be used within six hours. After that, any unused vaccine must be discarded.

The vaccinator must then take a new needle and syringe, clean the top of the vial again and “draw” up 0.3 millilitres of vaccine from the vial. This is a new volume for our vaccinators to get used to as most vaccines given as part of our current immunisation program are 0.5 millilitres.

Once the 0.3 millilitres is in the syringe, it is ready to be injected into the upper arm.

The vaccinator must use a new needle and syringe to “draw” up the next dose. This is repeated until five or six doses have been removed from the vial.

Read more: Should I get a COVID vaccine while I’m pregnant or breastfeeding? Is it safe for me and my baby?

Ready, set, go

Next, the injection itself. In most cases, the person will be sitting down and have their upper arm exposed so the vaccinator can see the deltoid muscle. This is the large fleshy part of muscle on the outer edge of your upper arm.

There is usually no need to clean the upper arm unless it is visibly dirty. The needle is then inserted at 90⁰ to the arm and the vaccine injected slowly over a few seconds.

Read more: Not sure about the Pfizer vaccine, now it’s been approved in Australia? You can scratch these 4 concerns straight off your list

That’s not all

Once you have been given the vaccine you will be asked to stay in the clinic for at least 15 minutes to make sure you don’t have any reactions. In some cases, especially if there’s a history of severe allergic reactions, people will be asked to wait for 30 minutes.

Your vaccine details will be added to the Australian Immunisation Register. This is now mandatory. That’s because it is very important we know exactly which vaccine you were given and will be checked when you return for the second dose, 21 days later.

Read more: The COVID vaccine is here. When and to whom will we need to prove we’ve had it?

– ref. How the Pfizer COVID vaccine gets from the freezer into your arm – https://theconversation.com/how-the-pfizer-covid-vaccine-gets-from-the-freezer-into-your-arm-155453