Kategori: News in English

In February, the South Australian Museum “re-imagined” itself. In the face of rising costs and inadequate government funds, CEO David Gaimster, who took the reins last June, declared the museum is “not a university”, and will gut its research capabilities, starting this July.

In Australia and abroad, hundreds of scientists and friends of the museum have expressed their horror at the proposal, to the media, in letters to the state government, and in interviews with the author.

“It could be the death of the museum,” says renowned mammalogist Tim Flannery, a former director of the museum.

Palaeontologist Mary Droser of the University of California, Riverside, spent two decades working on the museum’s collection of half-billion-year-old Ediacaran fossils. “To say research isn’t important to what a museum does – it’s sending shock waves across the world,” she says.

Critics say the changes will make the museum “more of a theme park”, and make South Australia “the laughing stock of the scientific world”.

What’s the plan?

Gaimster plans to replace ten “science research” positions with five junior “science curators”, and reduce the number of specialist “science collection managers” from 12 to five.

According to the museum’s website, this skeleton crew will focus on “converting new discoveries and research into the visitor experience”.

That’s quite different to what the museum has been doing for the past 168 years. Its researchers have described more than 500 new species, such as tiny crustaceans that live only in desert pools and are at risk from mining.

Read more:
Friday essay: the silence of Ediacara, the shadow of uranium

Museum researchers have also helped discover some 60 new minerals for the mining industry, some of which may help to clean up pollutants or deliver critical minerals for renewable energy technologies. Others have tackled global questions such as the evolution of birds from dinosaurs, how eyes evolved in Cambrian fossils, and Antarctic biodiversity.

What’s so special about a museum?

The museum’s record may be impressive, but couldn’t all this research be done by universities?

Their remits are different, says University of Adelaide botanist Andy Lowe, who was the museum’s acting director in 2013 and 2014. Unlike universities, he says, the museum was “established by government, to carry out science for the development of the state”.

Museum research is also unique because of its unique resources – the collections.

Visitors to the museum see the state’s treasures: the skeleton of marsupial lion Thylacoleo, the largest mammalian carnivore Australia ever had; weird fossils of our planet’s earliest multi-cellular life from the Ediacara Hills of the Flinders Ranges; glowing rocks and crystals that display the foundation of the state’s past and future wealth; and stone tools, boomerangs and bark paintings that record tens of millennia of Indigenous culture on this continent.

The museum’s collections are a unique resource.
Sia Duff / South Australian Museum

But these displays contain only a fraction of the full collections. The rest of the specimens reside beneath the public areas, with the researchers who continuously enrich them with new specimens and new knowledge.

“They’re crucial for what goes on above; you need experts not second-hand translators,” says University of Adelaide geologist Alan Collins. He wonders what will happen the next time a youngster comes into the museum asking to identify a rock. “There won’t be an expert on hand anymore.”

Collins also worries about a bigger looming public failure: a bid to obtain World Heritage listing for the Flinders Ranges. Collins has contributed to the bid by collaborating with museum researcher Diego Garcia Bellido to show how rocks at Brachina Gorge tell the story of how complex life first emerged.

Read more:
How algae conquered the world – and other epic stories hidden in the rocks of the Flinders Ranges

Garcia Bellido and his now-retired colleague Jim Gehling used the museum’s collections to identify dozens of Ediacaran species. Their work led to the formation of Nilpena Ediacara National Park to preserve the sites containing unique fossil beds.

The collection of Indigenous objects dates back to anthropological expeditions carried out by the museum’s Norman Tindale and Harvard’s Joseph Birdsell in the 1930s. These expeditions helped Tindale produce the first map of the territories of “the Aboriginal tribes of Australia”.

The museum’s Phillip Jones now uses this collection in his research, delivering more than 30 exhibitions, books and academic papers.

Continuity and community

Maintaining the museum’s collections takes a lot of work. Without attentive curation and the life blood of research, the collections are doomed to “wither and die”, says Flannery. “There are no collections without research; and no research without collections.”

Many of the above-mentioned researchers, vastly overqualified for the newly described positions, will likely find no home in the reimagined museum.

That raises the issue of continuity. In Flannery’s words, the job of a museum curator:

is like being a high priest in a temple. You have been passed on the sacred objects by your predecessor who has looked after them through their career. That chain of care goes back to the foundation of the state of South Australia – the foundation of the museum […] but break the chain of care and you destroy the museum.

The museum displays seen by visitors are only the tip of the iceberg.
Sia Duff / South Australian Museum

A case in point is Jones, who knew Tindale and interviewed him when he was based at Harvard. Over Jones’ four decades at the museum, his relationships with Indigenous elders have also been critical to returning sacred objects to their traditional owners.

Besides the priestly “chain of care”, there’s something else at risk in the museum netherworld: a uniquely productive ecosystem feeding on the collections.

Here you’ll find PhD students mingling with retired academics; curators mingling with scientists; museum folk with university folk. This rich ecosystem delivers the out-sized knowledge output of the museum and brings in millions of dollars of federal research grants each year. In the year ending 2023 for instance, joint museum and university grants amounted to A$3.7 million.

Read more:
Museums are returning indigenous human remains but progress on repatriating objects is slow

But no more.

The new administration sees these joint grants as a burden. The problem, according to a museum spokesperson, is that “they did not include any remuneration for staff time or operational or administrative overheads”.

No one doubts the financial stresses the museum faces or that revamping exhibits is a desirable thing. But, as many have pointed out, the role of CEO is to knock on the doors of government and philanthropists and find the necessary funds. “It’s possible,” Flannery says. “I’ve done it.”

DNA and biodiversity

The museum has also declared it will no longer support a DNA sequencing lab it funds jointly with the University of Adelaide. The lab has worked with the museum’s collection of Australian biological tissue to help identify more than 500 new species, including 46 now listed as threatened.

“No other institute in South Australia does this type of biodiversity research,” says Andrew Austin, chair of Taxonomy Australia and emeritus professor at the University of Adelaide. “It’s the job of the museum.”

The cuts come while the SA government plans new laws to protect biodiversity.

According to Kris Helgen – chief scientist at the Australian Museum in Sydney – the South Australian Museum has been “the primary natural science museum for the interior of the continent” for 150 years.

The museum’s re-imagining puts this history at risk – and also places the future in jeopardy.

An open letter published on April 10, signed by more than 400 of Australia’s leading researchers, former state chief scientists, Aboriginal elders, politicians including a former state premier, and many others, summed up the case:

the collections housed at the South Australian Museum […] are amongst the most significant in the world. They reveal to us the very beginnings of life on earth […] and they help us to prevent extinction of critical species that underpin all human life […]. Läs mer…

Before climate change really got going, eastern Australia’s flash floods tended to concentrate on our coastal regions, east of the Great Dividing Range.

But that’s changing. Now we get flash floods much further inland, such as Broken Hill in 2012 and 2022 and Cobar, Bourke and Nyngan in 2022. Flash floods are those beginning between one and six hours after rainfall, while riverine floods take longer to build.

Why? Global warming is amplifying the climate drivers affecting where flash floods occur and how often. All around the world, we’re seeing intense dumps of rain in a short period, triggering flooding – just as we saw in Dubai this week.

Our research shows east coast lows – intense low pressure systems carrying huge volumes of water – are developing further out to sea, both southward and eastward.

This means these systems, which usually bring most of the east coast’s rain during cooler months, are now dumping more rain out at sea. Instead, we’re seeing warm, moist air pushed down from the Coral Sea, leading to thunderstorms and floods much further inland.

This month, a coastal trough along the Queensland and New South Wales coasts and an inland trough resulted in unusually widespread flooding, triggering flooding in Sydney as well as inland.

Read more:
Why is Australia’s east coast copping all this rain right now? An atmospheric scientist explains

What’s changing?

On the coasts, extreme flash floods come from short, intense rains on saturated catchments. Think of the devastating floods hitting Lismore in 2022 and Grantham in 2011.

Inland, flash floods occur when intense rain hits small urban catchments, runs off roads and concrete, and flows into low-lying areas.

The April flooding in NSW and Queensland had elements of both. Early this month, the subtropical jet stream changed its course, triggering a cyclonic circulation higher in the atmosphere over inland eastern Australia.

At the same time, a low-pressure trough developed low down in the atmosphere off the coast and another inland, through southern Queensland and NSW, where they encountered warm moist air dragged by northeast winds from as far away as the Coral Sea.

The result was localised extremely heavy rain, which led to the Warragamba Dam spilling and flood plain inundation in western Sydney.

Flash floods arrive suddenly and tend to affect local areas. This image shows the aftermath of flooding in Wollongong.
Dean Lewins/AAP

This unusual event has been referred to as a “black nor’easter”, a term coined in 1911. These are characterised by a deepening coastal trough and upper-level low pressure systems further west, over inland eastern Australia. This term, mostly known in the marine fraternity, became less common during the 20th century. But it has returned.

Why? Global warming is changing how the atmosphere circulates. As ocean temperatures keep rising, the pool of warm water in the Coral and Tasman Seas grows. This gives rise to northeasterly airstreams, which funnel thick fronts of warm, moist air down towards inland Queensland and NSW.

These low pressure systems occur higher in the atmosphere, causing unstable conditions suiting the formation of thunderstorms. And because these systems move slowly, heavy rain can fall continuously over the same area for several hours. All up, it’s a perfect recipe for flash flooding.

We saw similar systems producing flash flooding in Sydney’s Nepean and Hawkesbury rivers during November and December last year, as well as in other regions of inland eastern Australia.

Is this new? Yes. Between 1957 and 1990, flash floods struck Sydney 94 times. But during this period, fast cyclonic airflow in the upper atmosphere was not connected to the jet stream. Instead, flash floods occurred when slow-moving upper-level low pressure circulations encountered air masses laden with moisture evaporating off the oceans. However, there wasn’t enough water in the air over the inland to trigger flash flooding.

In every case between 1957 to 1990, flash floods in Sydney were not linked to slower-forming riverine floods on the Nepean-Hawkesbury River system. When these rivers did flood during that period, they came from longer duration, less intense rain falling in the catchments, and largely from east coast lows. Now we’re seeing something new.

Haven’t there always been flash floods?

Flash floods are not new. What is new is where they are occurring. These sudden floods can now form well west of the Great Dividing Range.

Previously, inland floods tended to come after long periods of widespread rain saturated large river catchments. Inland flash floods were not so common and powerful as in recent decades.

In earlier decades, inland riverine floods during extreme rainfall years occurred when the fast-moving jet stream high in the atmosphere was further north. This occurred frequently in the cooler months, with long, broad cloud bands blown by or associated with the jet stream producing widespread rain inland. Known as the “autumn break”, it often primed agricultural land for winter crops.

In recent years, these crucial air currents have begun moving polewards.

Now that it’s moving south, we have increasingly warm air over inland eastern Australia which can hold more moisture and result in heavy falls, even in the cooler months.

What about the famous inland floods which move through Queensland’s Channel Country and fill Kati Thanda/Lake Eyre?

These are slow moving riverine floods, not flash floods. Flash floods are often limited to local regions. By contrast, Channel Country floods stem from heavy monsoonal rains from November to April.

Queensland’s Channel Country is a braided landscape which periodically floods.
Ecopix/Shutterstock

Read more:
Changes in the jet stream are steering autumn rain away from southeast Australia

Short, intense rain bursts are going global

The pattern we’re seeing – more flash floods in unusual places – is not just happening in Australia. Inland areas – including deserts – are now more likely to see flash floods.

Dubai this week had a year’s rain (152 mm) in a single day, which triggered flash floods and caused widespread disruption of air travel. Other parts of the United Arab Emirates got even more rain, with up to 250 mm. In Western Australia’s remote southern reaches, the isolated community of Rawlinna recently had 155 mm of rain in a day.

This is precisely what we would expect as the world heats up. Hotter air can hold about 7% more water for every degree of warming, supercharging normal storms. And these floods can be followed by extended periods of almost no rain. The future is shaping up as one of flash floods and flash droughts.

Read more:
Flash droughts are becoming more common in Australia. What’s causing them? Läs mer…

This week, Collingwood AFL player Nathan Murphy announced his retirement, brought on by his concussion history and ongoing issues.

The 24-year-old’s seemingly sudden retirement, following Angus Brayshaw’s in February and a number of other high-profile footballers in recent years, signals a shift in how athletes view brain trauma risks in sport.

Rather than downplaying or ignoring the potential damage being done to their health by a career filled with brain trauma, some athletes are now choosing to end their careers early. In doing so, they hope to avoid the neurodegenerative diseases which afflicted former players like Danny Frawley, Paul Green, Heather Anderson, and Shane Tuck.

Read more:
Will introducing independent doctors at games help the AFL tackle its concussion problem?

Why do athletes risk their brains?

Murphy’s retirement is a sign that concussion culture in the AFL is beginning to shift.

Although the long-term implications of multiple concussions and repetitive neurotrauma have been recognised internationally for nearly a century, scientific and health knowledge has historically battled against a warrior culture in contact sport communities.

For decades, sports have fostered a win-at-all-costs culture, with a pseudo-military flavour of sacrifice and duty to one’s teammates.

This has given rise to athletes ignoring or downplaying injuries whenever possible to continue the game.

This behaviour is particularly easy to enact when it comes to concussion, because it is often an invisible injury with health effects that may not manifest until after the initial contact.

Compounding this are expectations from spectators and fans, many of whom expect their heroes to “run through walls” and not show any weakness or vulnerabilities.

Media commentators also celebrate athletes who return to the field after sickening collisions as “courageous”, having “no fear”, or “gaining respect from teammates and opposition”.

There have been public calls since at least 2016 for commentators to change to the language around concussion.

Some AFL players are retiring early due to fears of concussion.

A shift in attitude?

To prioritise athlete welfare, outdated attitudes need to change across Australia’s multiple contact sporting codes.

Murphy’s retirement and acknowledgement of his long-term brain health is one sign the culture of valorising injury and risk may be changing. But there is other evidence of a shift.

Australian research shows risky attitudes and behaviours toward concussion have begun to dissipate over recent years.

In 2017, the first study of concussion attitudes and behaviours in Australian athletes at all levels showed that despite participants knowing the dangers of concussion, many would still choose to play through or hide concussions.

Others revealed that even if diagnosed with a concussion, they would not complete full rehabilitation in the hopes of returning to the field sooner.

However, a 2021 follow-up study, using the same survey in a separate group, showed significant improvements towards concussion. Respondents were much less likely to hide or play through a concussion, and were more likely to complete full rehabilitation before returning to competition.

This data indicates that athletes are not only more aware of the potential long-term health effects of brain injuries, but are more likely to heed medical advice if they are concussed.

Murphy’s retirement is an example of footballers’ increased willingness to listen to medical advice. His decision was informed by the findings of the AFL’s independent panel of medical experts, which was introduced in 2019 to provide players with advice about whether to continue their careers following brain trauma.

In his announcement, Murphy said he accepted the panel’s advice, something we hope to see more of in future.

It should also be noted that in October 2023, this advisory panel permitted Murphy to return to training after the athlete was knocked out during September’s AFL Grand Final.

This short turnaround indicates the line between safety and danger for athletes’ brains is razor thin, and that athletes, their families, and medical experts like those who advised Murphy have a complex job ahead of them, as more and more athletes contemplate their futures post-concussion.

Are more retirements to come?

With continued discussion, debate and independent research, it is plausible more players with multiple concussions will prioritise their long-term brain health.

Similarly, new draftees entering professional levels of these sports will need to consider the benefits of competing where multiple brain injuries are likely to occur, versus the risk for cognitive impairments later in life or even brain disease.

In the meantime, the current group of athletes – professionals and amateurs alike – must weigh up the costs of participation in high contact games.

Read more:
Concussion in sport: why making players sit out for 21 days afterwards is a good idea

The recent and tragic deaths of former professionals and many unknown people who played club football, have shown our expectations of athletes need to be tempered. We need to understand these athletes are not machines, but individuals with families who are doing a job as best they can, for the short period of opportunity they have.

We must continue to educate and change the culture around concussion at all levels of sport, and to support players who decide to give the game away when concerned about too many injuries.

It’s in the best interests for the longevity of these sports – and the athletes we love to cheer on. Läs mer…

You’re not in your 20s or 30s anymore and you know regular health checks are important. So you go to your GP. During the appointment they measure your waist. They might also check your weight. Looking concerned, they recommend some lifestyle changes.

GPs and health professionals commonly measure waist circumference as a vital sign for health. This is a better indicator than body mass index (BMI) of the amount of intra-abdominal fat. This is the really risky fat around and within the organs that can drive heart disease and metabolic disorders such as type 2 diabetes.

Men are at greatly increased risk of health issues if their waist circumference is greater than 102 centimetres. Women are considered to be at greater risk with a waist circumference of 88 centimetres or more. More than two-thirds of Australian adults have waist measurements that put them at an increased risk of disease. An even better indicator is waist circumference divided by height or waist-to-height ratio.

But we know people (especially women) have a propensity to gain weight around their middle during midlife, which can be very hard to control. Are they doomed to ill health? It turns out that, although such measurements are important, they are not the whole story when it comes to your risk of disease and death.

Read more:
The body mass index can’t tell us if we’re healthy. Here’s what we should use instead

How much is too much?

Having a waist circumference to height ratio larger than 0.5 is associated with greater risk of chronic disease as well as premature death and this applies in adults of any age. A healthy waist-to-height ratio is between 0.4 to 0.49. A ratio of 0.6 or more places a person at the highest risk of disease.

Some experts recommend waist circumference be routinely measured in patients during health appointments. This can kick off a discussion about their risk of chronic diseases and how they might address this.

Excessive body fat and the associated health problems manifest more strongly during midlife. A range of social, personal and physiological factors come together to make it more difficult to control waist circumference as we age. Metabolism tends to slow down mainly due to decreasing muscle mass because people do less vigorous physical activity, in particular resistance exercise.

For women, hormone levels begin changing in mid-life and this also stimulates increased fat levels particularly around the abdomen. At the same time, this life phase (often involving job responsibilities, parenting and caring for ageing parents) is when elevated stress can lead to increased cortisol which causes fat gain in the abdominal region.

Midlife can also bring poorer sleep patterns. These contribute to fat gain with disruption to the hormones that control appetite.

Finally, your family history and genetics can make you predisposed to gaining more abdominal fat.

Why the waist?

This intra-abdominal or visceral fat is much more metabolically active (it has a greater impact on body organs and systems) than the fat under the skin (subcutaneous fat).

Visceral fat surrounds and infiltrates major organs such as the liver, pancreas and intestines, releasing a variety of chemicals (hormones, inflammatory signals, and fatty acids). These affect inflammation, lipid metabolism, cholesterol levels and insulin resistance, contributing to the development of chronic illnesses.

Exercise can limit visceral fat gains in mid-life.
Shutterstock/Zamrznuti tonovi

The issue is particularly evident during menopause. In addition to the direct effects of hormone changes, declining levels of oestrogen change brain function, mood and motivation. These psychological alterations can result in reduced physical activity and increased eating – often of comfort foods high in sugar and fat.

But these outcomes are not inevitable. Diet, exercise and managing mental health can limit visceral fat gains in mid-life. And importantly, the waist circumference (and ratio to height) is just one measure of human health. There are so many other aspects of body composition, exercise and diet. These can have much larger influence on a person’s health.

Read more:
Is menopause making me put on weight? No, but it’s complicated

Muscle matters

The quantity and quality of skeletal muscle (attached to bones to produce movement) a person has makes a big difference to their heart, lung, metabolic, immune, neurological and mental health as well as their physical function.

On current evidence, it is equally or more important for health and longevity to have higher muscle mass and better cardiorespiratory (aerobic) fitness than waist circumference within the healthy range.

So, if a person does have an excessive waist circumference, but they are also sedentary and have less muscle mass and aerobic fitness, then the recommendation would be to focus on an appropriate exercise program. The fitness deficits should be addressed as priority rather than worry about fat loss.

Conversely, a person with low visceral fat levels is not necessarily fit and healthy and may have quite poor aerobic fitness, muscle mass, and strength. The research evidence is that these vital signs of health – how strong a person is, the quality of their diet and how well their heart, circulation and lungs are working – are more predictive of risk of disease and death than how thin or fat a person is.

For example, a 2017 Dutch study followed overweight and obese people for 15 years and found people who were very physically active had no increased heart disease risk than “normal weight” participants.

Read more:
Climb the stairs, lug the shopping, chase the kids. Incidental vigorous activity linked to lower cancer risks

Getting moving is important advice

Physical activity has many benefits. Exercise can counter a lot of the negative behavioural and physiological changes that are occurring during midlife including for people going through menopause.

And regular exercise reduces the tendency to use food and drink to help manage what can be a quite difficult time in life.

Measuring your waist circumference and monitoring your weight remains important. If the measures exceed the values listed above, then it is certainly a good idea to make some changes. Exercise is effective for fat loss and in particular decreasing visceral fat with greater effectiveness when combined with dietary restriction of energy intake. Importantly, any fat loss program – whether through drugs, diet or surgery – is also a muscle loss program unless resistance exercise is part of the program. Talking about your overall health with a doctor is a great place to start.

Accredited exercise physiologists and accredited practising dietitians are the most appropriate allied health professionals to assess your physical structure, fitness and diet and work with you to get a plan in place to improve your health, fitness and reduce your current and future health risks. Läs mer…

You’d be hard pressed to find any aspect of daily life that doesn’t require some form of digital literacy. We need only to look back ten years to realise how quickly things have changed.

In 2013, we were still predominantly buying paper bus tickets and using Facebook on a desktop computer. Now, we order food by scanning codes and tap our cards to make payments.

Digital inclusion (someone’s ability to keep up with technology) is an important health and social equity issue, amplified by the rapid digital developments that arose during the COVID pandemic.

Among those who are prone to digital exclusion, there is one group who, due to a collision of several trends, may be hit the hardest: people leaving prison and re-entering society at an older age, or after lengthy periods of imprisonment. In a new study, we interviewed former prisoners about their experiences with trying to adapt to ubiquitous technology after years of going without.

Read more:
Teaching prisoners to start businesses can help them return to society

Unfamiliar tech damaging confidence

Prison populations are getting older worldwide for a few reasons, including general population ageing, trends towards people entering prison at an older age, or staying in for longer. At the same time, Australian prisons remain highly technologically restricted environments, mostly for security reasons.

We interviewed 15 Australians (aged 47–69 years) about their experiences of reintegration following release from prison.

After long stints behind bars, former prisoners often don’t know how to use vital technological services.
Shutterstock

The (primarily male) interviewees recalled a tense and troublesome time. They described feeling like a stranger thrown into a world where survival depended on their ability to use technology.

Regardless of their experiences before imprisonment, the rapid digitisation of daily functions that were once familiar to them rendered their skills and confidence irrelevant. One former inmate said:

There’s a significant gap […] for anybody who’s done, I’m gonna say, probably more than five to seven years [in prison]. Because things change so quickly […] they do not know what the world looks like.

Read more:
New report reveals shocking state of prisoner health. Here’s what needs to be done

This deeply affected their sense of self and self-efficacy, and heightened the stigma they experienced, adding a weighty psychological and emotional burden to an already stressful time. They told us:

You want to fit in, you want to be invisible, to either fit in and be part of the crowd or just invisible. Because for a lot of people leaving prison, they’re still wearing their crime or their offending on their shoulders. And anything that sort of has their head pop up outside of the norm really triggers people’s anxiety.

There will be people where those trip-ups of technology are a really big deal and really impact your anxiety, really impacts your need and want to socialise and interact with other people.

Exacerbating recidivism

Post-prison reintegration is already a challenge. There’s concerning evidence around recidivism, risk of post-release mortality, social isolation, unemployment and homelessness.

Digital exclusion creates an additional barrier for those who are older, who already face a high risk of medical and social marginalisation. A former prisoner said:

Think about it, after being in ten years, well you think, okay, where do I start? And everything is hard. And sometimes this is why people fall back into their same situations because it’s just too hard.

Read more:
‘They weren’t there when I needed them’: we asked former prisoners what happens when support services fail

Technology isn’t completely absent from Australian prisons, but interviewees described the programs and technology as outdated, basic or limited in relevance to their immediate daily, post-release lives.

Recent attempts to bring in touchscreen devices to NSW prisons suggests positive change. However, our interviewees claimed there was a lack of education around these, adding to the risk of digital division even within the prison.

Interviewees said it would be helpful if someone worked with them on using services like MyGov in preparation for leaving prison.
Shutterstock

What can be done?

There must be investment in specific digital literacy or technology readiness programs tailored to the unique needs of this population both prior to, and following release.

The interviewees provided suggestions for how such programs could be delivered and a keenness to engage with them. They tended to focus on learning in environments free from stigma and judgement of their literacy level or histories, with hands-on experience and face to face support. Interviewees favoured learning while in prison, with additional support available on the outside. Three interviewees said:

If they could somehow incorporate it into the prisons where you know, they actually showed them how to use them and how to download an app and how to use the basic apps such as, you know, Centrelink, MyGov, it’d be a lot better life for them when they get out.

I think a lot of ex-prisoners shy away from doing these community type education stuff. Because they’re paranoid, basically.

As you’d be aware, it’s no good someone’s sitting there telling you how it works, you need to experience it yourself.

At a broader level, improving the digital inclusion of people in prison requires attitudinal change by government stakeholders and the community. Ultimately, it calls for a commitment to practices that put rehabilitation at the centre, whilst managing competing needs for security and segregation.

Based on the evidence, we can be certain this will encourage positive change for the 95% of Australian prisoners who will eventually be released. Läs mer…

Decay, terror, revulsion. These are three of the central themes of Thomas Bernhard’s rarely performed play The President.

The Austrian is one of the greatest writers of the 20th century, best known in the English-speaking world as a novelist.

As literary scholar Rita Felski puts it, Bernhard’s oeuvre is generally thought of as “an oceanic heave of venom, disgust, bitterness, and loathing”.

By the same token – and this is something Felski neglects to mention – his writing can be extremely funny.

One of the great strengths of the Sydney Theatre Company’s captivating revival of the 1975 play, co-produced with Dublin’s Gate Theatre, is how it manages to balance both these aspects of Bernhard’s writing.

Directed by Ireland’s Tom Creed, the production also features two exceptional lead performances.

Hugo Weaving plays the leader of a middling, unnamed country somewhere in Europe. Grandiose and boastful, Weaving’s titular president spends half of the play hiding away in Portugal and refuses to concede his days are numbered. He insists, against all odds, he can somehow “win it all back”.

Meanwhile, Olwen Fouéré’s furious first lady spends her time physically and emotionally tormenting her maid, Mrs Frolick (Julie Forsyth), while monologuing endlessly and ominously on the topics of hate, torture and the liquidation of shadowy political factions.

A complex writer

Thomas Bernhard in 1987.
Monozigote/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

Bernhard was born in 1931 and died in 1989. Through childhood and adolescence he was unhappy and suffered from a host of life-threatening lung ailments. Eventually, his tuberculous-damaged lungs put paid to his youthful musical aspirations of being an opera singer, so he turned to writing.

After stints as a courtroom reporter and journalist, he started publishing poetry. His debut novel, Frost (1963), made him famous. His theatrical breakthrough came in 1970, with his first full-length play, A Feast for Boris.

Throughout his career, Bernhard’s feelings about his homeland were complex and fraught. Biographer Gitta Honegger, who also translated The President, notes he

came of age while Austria was digging its way out of the devastation of World War II and burying itself in silence about the Holocaust.

He was deeply suspicious about Austria’s refusal to come to terms with its Nazi past and used his standing as a prominent public figure to expose this national hypocrisy.

But these critiques didn’t sit well with everyone in Austria. He was repeatedly attacked for being a Nestbeschmutzer, which roughly translates as “one who fouls their own nest”.

The last play he wrote, Heldenplatz (1988), was an explosive account of the dangers of nationalism and anti-Semitism.

It controversially suggested things hadn’t really changed in Austria since the days of the Third Reich, with one character saying:

conditions today really are the same as they were in thirty-eight there are more Nazis in Vienna now than in thirty-eight it’ll come to a bad end you’ll see it doesn’t even take an extra-sharp mind now they’re coming out again of every hole that’s been sealed for over forty years

The political landscape of 1975

The President was Bernhard’s response to the volatile political climate in Europe of the time.

The president of Bernhard’s demanding play – a fascist dictator in all but name – has just survived an attempt on his life. Anarchists are responsible. There is a possibility the president’s son, who has disappeared, pulled the trigger.

Weaving’s titular President is grandiose and boastful.
Daniel Boud/Sydney Theatre Company

The play opens with the president and his wife preparing for the funeral of a close confidant who was killed in the same assassination attempt (as was the first lady’s beloved dog). The characters are paranoid and panicked:

Aren’t you afraid of the terrorists of some anarchist trying to get you You open a book because you want to read and you are blown into pieces aren’t you are afraid everybody everybody The whole country is ruled by fear

While Bernhard doesn’t specify, it would have been clear to contemporary audiences he had a particular band of West German terrorists in mind: the Red Army Faction.

It was no coincidence the original production opened at the Stuttgart State Theatre on May 21 1975: the same date and city where the key members of the Red Army Faction went on trial.

Also known as the Baader-Meinhof Group, the Red Army Faction was responsible for a series of assassinations of German business leaders and politicians during the 1970s.

The Red Army Faction was also vocal and scathing about Germany’s unwillingness to properly confront its Nazi past.

In the words of the group’s de facto leader and theorist, Ulrike Meinhof, they had no time for acts of historical erasure, or for those who sought to “turn 12 years of German history into a taboo subject”.

Read more:
Baader–Meinhof group member arrested after 30 years on the run – but Germany still can’t close the chapter on far-left terrorism

‘Uncomfortable truths’

The creative team behind this version of The President clearly know their history.

In his directorial program notes, Creed acknowledges the violent actions of the Red Army Faction would have loomed large in the imagination of audiences in 1975.

Olwen Fouéré’s furious first lady spends her time physically and emotionally tormenting her maid.
Daniel Boud/Sydney Theatre Company

Similarly, Weaving has spoken approvingly of Bernhard’s willingness to speak “a lot of uncomfortable truths to his own country”.

In equal measure, however, both Creed and Weaving believe Bernhard’s historically timestamped play can tell us something about the here and now. As Weaving says, The President, which takes a dim view of the performative quality of what passes for politics, is a “fascinatingly timely piece”.

I agree, and wholeheartedly recommend it.

The President is at the Sydney Theatre Company until May 19. Läs mer…

Less than 24 hours after Ashlee Good was murdered in Bondi Junction, her family released a statement requesting the media take down photographs they had reproduced of Ashlee and her family without their consent. They said it had caused her loved ones extreme distress.

Their appeal is immediately understandable – many people would be upset by seeing photos of a loved one everywhere after such a traumatic event.

The media had evidently not received permission to use these photos in their news stories. Nor had they afforded the family any ethical sense of privacy when they circulated and displayed the photos across multiple platforms.

There has been valuable commentary about the issues surrounding the common journalistic practice of mining social media after a “newsworthy” death.

My PhD research offers further insight into a perspective that is rarely shared: the view of families bereaved through homicide.

While I cannot and do not presume to speak for Good’s family, I have interviewed families bereaved through homicide and they have shared their experience of photos of their loved one being in the media.

Read more:
Why is the Sydney church stabbing an act of terrorism, but the Bondi tragedy isn’t?

Private photos in the public domain

To the bereaved, photos of loved ones are deeply meaningful. They are more than mere objects, more than random captured moments.

They are wrapped up in specific memories and treated as keepsakes. They are representations of and tangible connections to the person who was taken from them.

When these photos enter the public domain following homicide, they become photos of a victim.

In this new domain, private photos serve altogether different purposes. They furnish media stories now and into the future. Their original context and personal meaning are typically overridden or removed, often along with families’ consent.

My research indicates this is an issue that persists long into the aftermath of homicide, well after media and public interest has dissipated.

In other words, it has the capacity to traumatise families for years.

Read more:
Digital ’death knocks’: is it fair game for journalists to mine social media profiles of victims and their families?

Judging victims

While the mining of photos is one matter, how they are then used by the media and interpreted by the public is another.

My research uncovers how details in a photo can be highlighted and twisted at the expense of others. For example, bereaved families told me how hurtful it was when the media republished unflattering and inappropriate photos of their loved one that were just meant for friends and family.

One mother recalled how her son would do a silly pose and ruin their family photos. He was being a typical teenager, but that was not how he was perceived when the media reproduced those photos alongside their chosen narrative. Instead, the mother read comments made by the public underneath the article that said her son deserved to be murdered. The public judged her son based on those photos.

Similarly, a sister was distraught when the media pulled a photo from her social media of her and her brother where he did not look his best. They were at a party and there is a heart-warming story of the moment before the photo was taken. She explained she loves the photo; it is a happy memory for her, but she said it is for his family to love, not for the public to make assumptions about her brother.

These examples highlight how significant it is for families when the media take a photo out of context, without permission, and curate it to suit specific narratives.

Certainly, it is a practice that exacerbates trauma.

The horrific stabbings in Sydney caused an outpouring of grief across Australia.

The right to control

I also spoke to families about how they decided which photographs they wanted in the public domain.

One family, whose daughter was murdered before social media was used as a journalistic tool, told me that when they were asked for photos, they were reflective and careful about the ones they shared, choosing to keep their favourite photos to themselves.

Another mother explained her reasoning behind the two photos that she handed over – one because it depicted her daughter as she was at the time of her murder, and the other where she was dressed up, because it showed what she would have been like if she had had the chance to get married.

Bereaved families want photos to be an accurate, presentable, and appropriate portrayal of their loved one.

The photos might be tied to a specific memory or feeling, they might maintain their privacy, they might be chosen because they do not require context, or they might be the one they believe their loved one would have wanted.

The bereaved deserve to be in control of that decision. Allowing them to make that choice themselves gives the bereaved agency at a time when they feel most powerless. Läs mer…

If you’re a fan of all things space, you’ve doubtless heard about the “devil comet”, which has been captivating keen-eyed observers in the northern hemisphere for the past few weeks. Now it’s our turn, as comet 12P/Pons–Brooks is creeping into view for the southern hemisphere.

Before you get too excited, let me quash your hopes. Comet Pons–Brooks is visible to the naked eye, but only if you know where to look. It will look like a fuzzy glowing patch, but nonetheless promises some amazing photo opportunities for the coming weeks.

Even better, it may serve as a celestial warm-up act for an even more special comet later in the year.

Here’s everything you need to know about Pons–Brooks, and how to get the best view.

Why do people call it the ‘devil comet’?

Named after two astronomers who independently discovered it in the 19th century, Comet 12P/Pons–Brooks (its full, official name) was last visible in 1954.

It takes around 71 years to orbit the Sun, making the comet’s visits to the inner Solar System a rare treat for us here on Earth.

At its heart (its nucleus), Pons–Brooks is a dirty snowball around 34 kilometres in diameter. As the comet came swinging back towards us in its orbit, astronomers spotted it back in 2020. At that time, the comet was almost 1.8 billion kilometres from the Sun, and lay dormant.

As the comet kept falling inwards toward the Sun, its surface temperature began to rise, making it “active”. Exposed ices started to sublime, turning directly from solid to gas. This activity is how a comet gets its tail: the nucleus becomes shrouded in a diaphanous “coma” of dust and debris from its sublimated surface, which is then blown away from the Sun by the solar wind.

Comet C/2020 F3 (NEOWISE) captured in 2020 with a long, blurry tail clearly visible.
Serrgey75/Shutterstock

But comet 12P/Pons–Brooks didn’t activate gently and smoothly. Instead, it produces several large outbursts of activity, each time, emitting vast amounts of gas and dust in a very short period of time before settling down again.

In the first of those significant outbursts, on July 20, 2023, the comet brightened by a factor of a hundred times, shedding an estimated ten million metric tons of dust and ice.

The solar wind pushed the resulting dust, gas and debris away from the Sun, giving the comet an unusual appearance. To some, the comet looked like the Millennium Falcon from Star Wars. To others, it looked vaguely demonic – sporting the cometary equivalent of horns.

The moniker of “devil comet” took hold in media articles and appears to have stuck – even though the comet’s horned appearance is now a thing of the past.

Comet 12P/Pons–Brooks on July 27, 2023, showing the unusual horned appearance that led to its ‘devil comet’ nickname.
Juan Iacruz/Wikipedia, CC BY-SA

Where (and when) should I look?

Over the last few days, the first confirmed sightings of 12P/Pons–Brooks have come in from around Australia. It is currently visible low in the western sky after sunset, albeit almost lost in the glow of twilight.

In the next few weeks, the comet will slowly climb higher in the evening sky. The two videos below show the location of the comet’s head at 6:30pm from mid-April through to mid-June, as seen from Toowoomba and Melbourne.

Visibility of comet 12P/Pons–Brooks, as seen from Toowoomba, from mid-April to mid-June 2024.

Visibility of comet 12P/Pons–Brooks, as seen from Melbourne, from mid-April to mid-June 2024.

Remember, the comet is a diffuse object, rather than a single point of light. The head is where the comet is brightest (centred on its nucleus). The comet’s tails point away from the Sun – so will rise upwards from the western horizon in the evening sky.

While the comet is visible with the naked eye, you really need to know where to look. The best bet is to search with binoculars. Make sure to wait until the Sun is well below the horizon. Once you find the telltale blur of the comet, you will know where to look, and can switch to see if you can spot it with the naked eye.

For me, the most exciting time with Pons–Brooks will come during the first two weeks of May. At that point, the comet will be passing underneath the constellation Orion, which will serve as a signpost.

That period will be prime astrophotography season, so I expect to see many spectacular images of the comet’s tails cutting through the celestial hunter, shining next to the spectacular nebulae dotted throughout Orion’s body.

Read more:
Want to get into stargazing? A professional astronomer explains where to start

But wait… there’s more!

While comet 12P/Pons–Brooks currently basks in the limelight, a potentially great comet is currently moving sunward, promising a spectacular show later this year.

That comet, C/2023 A3 (Tsuchinshan-ATLAS), was discovered in January 2023, and astronomers soon realised it has the potential to become truly dazzling.

Comet behaviour is hard to predict, so take the following with a pinch of salt, but things still look really promising.

Current predictions suggest Tsuchinshan-ATLAS will be at least as bright as the brightest stars in late September and early October this year. During that time, it will pass almost directly between Earth and the Sun. It might even briefly become visible in broad daylight at that time.

In the days following that chance alignment, the comet will gradually become visible in the evening sky and could be an incredible sight, up to a hundred times brighter than Pons–Brooks at its best.

So, with any luck, the current apparition of 12P/Pons–Brooks is merely the warm-up act, with an even greater spectacle to come later this year. Fingers crossed! Läs mer…

A multi-billion dollar stadium precinct has been proposed for Auckland, one of three proposals in front of Auckland Council for a new stadium in the city. The council is also considering revamping Eden Park. But is a new stadium really value for money for Auckland ratepayers?

Large stadiums are sold as an economic boon for cities. But the reality is these multimillion-dollar investments tend to require significant investment from local and regional councils.

These stadiums are often opposed by sections of the communities asked to pay for them. And once built, they stand empty most of the time.

Why then do local governments keep proposing them? The answer lies in the lofty promises from those supporting the projects – and the questionable calculations used to get them over the line.

For the love of the game

Rugby Union is the principal user of large stadiums in New Zealand. When the game was still amateur, it was expected to build and maintain its own stadiums. For example, Carisbrook in Dunedin was initially built by the Otago Rugby Football Union, while Eden Park was built by various Auckland sports associations.

But with the professionalisation of rugby in 1995 the expectation changed. Taxpayers and ratepayers started paying significant amounts for construction of rugby and “multi-use” stadiums.

Two large (over 30,000 capacity) new stadiums have been built in New Zealand since 1999 (Wellington’s Sky Stadium and Dunedin’s Forsyth Barr Stadium), with one more currently under construction (Te Kaha in Christchurch). And there is the proposed Auckland stadium, currently in front of a council working group.

Read more:
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Out of the four, only Wellington’s Sky Stadium has been designed to be used for both rugby and cricket. The others have a fixed “natural grass” rugby pitch as their main arena.

According to information released under a Local Government Official Information and Meetings Act request, there have been just 30 major events at the Forsyth Barr rugby stadium in Dunedin since 2014 – three a year. And there are no major live music acts set to perform there in the next 18 months.

The last major concert was Pink, who performed at the stadium last month. Ed Sheeran cited the shape of the stadium – rectangular rather than oval – as a reason for skipping the city on his 2023 world tour.

Costs and benefits

While Christchurch’s Te Kaha has been ratepayer funded from the outset, the consortium behind one of the proposed stadiums in Auckland claims there will be zero cost to ratepayers.

But a feasibility report commissioned by former Auckland mayor Phil Goff on the possibility of a new stadium raised questions about the cost for Auckland ratepayers, how much they would be expected to pay, and what sort of profit would be gained from a new stadium.

Whether it is there from the outset or creeps in later, the case for funding from the community is usually based on “economic impact analysis”. This argument is based on taking a large event and claiming everything the attendees do and spend in the town that day is as a direct outcome of the stadium being there.

This figure is then increased via what is known as an “economic impact multiplier” to create a topline figure in support of the stadiums. The exact calculations behind this figure are not always made clear.

However, this headline figure is flawed. Any local attendee would normally have spent the money in the community anyway, for example. And events may have been held in the community at existing venues before the new stadium was built.

Since the professionalisation of rugby in 1995, ratepayers have been tasked with contributing to large sport stadiums.
Hannah Peters/Getty Images

Borrowing and interest costs

The cost of the debt that is incurred to build these stadiums is also high.

Te Kaha, which cost NZ$683 million to build, was promoted as having an annual $50 million positive economic for the region once it opened. But at the same time, Christchurch ratepayers are expected to pay the majority of the construction costs ($453m), while the crown invested $220m.

A significant part of the council investment was borrowed, meaning ratepayers will also be paying for the interest on this debt.

Read more:
Offside: The secret deals involving public money for sports stadiums

Rates increases have become a key source of funding for Te Kaha. The stadium was solely responsible for a 2% increase in Christchurch rates this year – about $94 for an average ratepayer, increasing to $209 during the 2027-28 financial year.

As Auckland councillors consider the proposed waterfront stadium, the city’s leaders need to consider both the cost and the benefit of the development – not just the headline economic impact.

For ratepayers expected to foot some or all of the bill, rates increases and other infrastructure needs could outweigh the benefits of a place to watch sport. Läs mer…

You may have heard of Ozempic, the “miracle drug” for weight loss, but did you know that it was actually designed as a new treatment to manage diabetes? In Canada, diabetes affects approximately 10 per cent of the general population. Of those cases, 90 per cent have Type 2 diabetes.

This metabolic disorder is characterized by persistent high blood sugar levels, which can be accompanied by secondary health challenges, including a higher risk of stroke and kidney disease.

Locks and keys

In Type 2 diabetes, the body struggles to maintain blood sugar levels in an acceptable range. Every cell in the body needs sugar as an energy source, but too much sugar can be toxic to cells. This equilibrium needs to be tightly controlled and is regulated by a lock and key system.

In the body’s attempt to manage blood sugar levels and ensure that cells receive the right amount of energy, the pancreatic hormone, insulin, functions like a key. Cells cover themselves with locks that respond perfectly to insulin keys to facilitate the entry of sugar into cells.

Unfortunately, this lock and key system doesn’t always perform as expected. The body can encounter difficulties producing an adequate number of insulin keys, and/or the locks can become stubborn and unresponsive to insulin.

All forms of diabetes share the challenge of high blood sugar levels; however, diabetes is not a singular condition; it exists as a spectrum. Although diabetes is broadly categorized into two main types, Type 1 and Type 2, each presents a diversity of subtypes, especially Type 2 diabetes.

These subtypes carry their own characteristics and risks, and do not respond uniformly to the same treatments.

To better serve people living with Type 2 diabetes, and to move away from a “one size fits all” approach, it is beneficial to understand which subtype of Type 2 diabetes a person lives with. When someone needs a blood transfusion, the medical team needs to know the patient’s blood type. It should be the same for diabetes so a tailored and effective game plan can be implemented.

This article explores four unique subtypes of Type 2 diabetes, shedding light on their causes, complications and some of their specific treatment avenues.

Severe insulin-deficient diabetes: We’re missing keys!

In severe insulin-deficient diabetes, beta cells limit production of the keys that unlock cells to allow entry of sugar from the blood.
(Lili Grieco-St-Pierre, Jennifer Bruin/Created with BioRender.com)

Insulin is produced by beta cells, which are found in the pancreas. In the severe insulin-deficient diabetes (SIDD) subtype, the key factories — the beta cells — are on strike. Ultimately, there are fewer keys in the body to unlock the cells and allow entry of sugar from the blood.

SIDD primarily affects younger, leaner individuals, and unfortunately, increases the risk of eye disease and blindness, among other complications. Why the beta cells go on strike remains largely unknown, but since there is an insulin deficiency, treatment often involves insulin injections.

Severe insulin-resistant diabetes: But it’s always locked!

In severe insulin-resistant diabetes, the locks start ignoring the keys, triggering the beta cells to produce even more keys to compensate.
(Lili Grieco-St-Pierre, Jennifer Bruin/Created with BioRender.com)

In the severe insulin-resistant diabetes (SIRD) subtype, the locks are overstimulated and start ignoring the keys. As a result, the beta cells produce even more keys to compensate. This can be measured as high levels of insulin in the blood, also known as hyperinsulinemia.

This resistance to insulin is particularly prominent in individuals with higher body weight. Patients with SIRD have an increased risk of complications such as fatty liver disease. There are many treatment avenues for these patients but no consensus about the optimal approach; patients often require high doses of insulin.

Mild obesity-related diabetes: The locks are sticky!

In mild obesity-related diabetes, the locks are ‘sticky,’ making it difficult for the keys to open the locks.
(Lili Grieco-St-Pierre, Jennifer Bruin/Created with BioRender.com)

Mild obesity-related (MOD) diabetes represents a nuanced aspect of Type 2 diabetes, often observed in individuals with higher body weight. Unlike more severe subtypes, MOD is characterized by a more measured response to insulin. The locks are “sticky,” so it is challenging for the key to click in place and open the lock. While MOD is connected to body weight, the comparatively less severe nature of MOD distinguishes it from other diabetes subtypes.

To minimize complications, treatment should include maintaining a healthy diet, managing body weight, and incorporating as much aerobic exercise as possible. This is where drugs like Ozempic can be prescribed to control the evolution of the disease, in part by managing body weight.

Mild age-related diabetes: I’m tired of controlling blood sugar!

In people with mild age-related diabetes, both the locks and the beta cells that produce keys are tired, resulting in fewer keys and stubborn locks.
(Lili Grieco-St-Pierre, Jennifer Bruin/Created with BioRender.com)

Mild age-related diabetes (MARD) happens more often in older people and typically starts later in life. With time, the key factory is not as productive, and the locks become stubborn. People with MARD find it tricky to manage their blood sugar, but it usually doesn’t lead to severe complications.

Among the different subtypes of diabetes, MARD is the most common.

Unique locks, varied keys

While efforts have been made to classify diabetes subtypes, new subtypes are still being identified, making proper clinical assessment and treatment plans challenging.

In Canada, unique cases of Type 2 diabetes were identified in Indigenous children from Northern Manitoba and Northwestern Ontario by Dr. Heather Dean and colleagues in the 1980s and 90s. Despite initial skepticism from the scientific community, which typically associated Type 2 diabetes with adults rather than children, clinical teams persisted in identifying this as a distinct subtype of Type 2 diabetes, called childhood-onset Type 2 diabetes.

Read more:
Indigenous community research partnerships can help address health inequities

Childhood-onset Type 2 diabetes is on the rise across Canada, but disproportionately affects Indigenous youth. It is undoubtedly linked to the intergenerational trauma associated with colonization in these communities. While many factors are likely involved, recent studies have discovered that exposure of a fetus to Type 2 diabetes during pregnancy increases the risk that the baby will develop diabetes later in life.

Acknowledging this distinct subtype of Type 2 diabetes in First Nations communities has led to the implementation of a community-based health action plan aimed at addressing the unique challenges faced by Indigenous Peoples. It is hoped that partnered research between communities and researchers will continue to help us understand childhood-onset Type 2 diabetes and how to effectively prevent and treat it.

A mosaic of conditions

Type 2 diabetes is a mosaic of conditions, each with its own characteristics.
(Lili Grieco-St-Pierre, Jennifer Bruin/Created with BioRender.com)

Type 2 diabetes is not uniform; it’s a mosaic of conditions, each with its own characteristics. Since diabetes presents so uniquely in every patient, even categorizing into subtypes does not guarantee how the disease will evolve. However, understanding these subtypes is a good starting point to help doctors create personalized plans for people living with the condition.

While Indigenous communities, lower-income households and individuals living with obesity already face a higher risk of developing Type 2 diabetes than the general population, tailored solutions may offer hope for better management. This emphasizes the urgent need for more precise assessments of diabetes subtypes to help customize therapeutic strategies and management strategies. This will improve care for all patients, including those from vulnerable and understudied populations. Läs mer…