Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Treena Clark, Chancellor’s Indigenous Research Fellow, Faculty of Design and Society, University of Technology Sydney
Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers are advised this article contains images of deceased people.
First Nations garments have always held deep meaning. What we wear tells stories about culture, Country and community.
From the moment of invasion, clothing and adornment were removed and used to erase our cultural presence. But resistance never stopped.
Today, First Nations designers, artists and community members continue to reclaim garments as acts of survival, empowerment and self-determination.
Cultural practices like cloak-making and adornment are linked to wellbeing. They restore pride, connect to ancestors and Country, and build community.
First Nations fashion designers and artists create exquisite items that represent culture, speak back to colonisation, and contribute to healing.
A shared experience
Like so many others, what I wear is deeply personal. I have my dad’s old Aboriginal rugby guernsey. He wore it for years. Now I wear it. It’s a piece of him I get to carry.
It’s a part of what links me to my research in understanding First Nations fashion and style as living expressions of who we are.
I had the chance to yarn with 20 Aboriginal Knowledge Holders from Tarntanya (Adelaide), Naarm (Melbourne) and Warrane (Sydney) about their fashion and style choices.
Like many of the people I spoke to in this study, we use First Nations fashion and style as a way to stay connected to culture and community and express identity and resistance.
Fashion as connection and solidarity
For many of the Knowledge Holders I spoke with, wearing First Nations clothing and adornment connects them to culture and community.
It becomes a way to share who they are and stand together in a world that has tried to silence and erase them.
The Knowledge Holders wear everything from subtle pins and badges to bold hoodies, t-shirts and merch with Aboriginal flag motifs and slogans. Some choose delicate shawls or clothing with cultural artworks.
As one Knowledge Holder put it, it’s “a contribution, a brick in the wall” that helps the building of identity and belonging.
For mob living off-Country in cities or overseas, wearing culture becomes an important way to stay connected.
This sense of connection can also show up in the most ordinary places.
Several Knowledge Holders shared how wearing an Aboriginal shirt in places like the supermarket often sparks a moment of connection. Sometimes they approach others, sometimes they’re the ones approached.
Fashion as pride and cultural practice
For most of the Knowledge Holders, wearing First Nations clothing affirms their Aboriginality and gives them a sense of pride.
For some, it’s about proudly showing who they are, especially in a society where racism still exists. That pride runs through generations.
Some talked about how they weren’t always allowed to show their First Nations identity openly, but now they can wear cultural clothing freely, all of the time.
The Knowledge Holders wear First Nations fashions at work, in shops, when travelling overseas, at graduations and especially at cultural events or protests.
Another Knowledge Holder shared how fashion filled a gap, giving First Nations people the words and symbols to express their culture and identity.
This Knowledge Holder declared, “fashion helped the pride come out”.
Others shared that even though wearing these clothes can mean dealing with racism or ignorance, they still choose to show that pride.
Fashion as identity and protest
For many of the Knowledge Holders, First Nations fashion and style is a way to strengthen their identity, share culture and protest.
They talked about wearing protest clothing as a clear political statement, especially at marches, NAIDOC events or on Invasion Day.
For many, clothing is how they show who they are, both to themselves and to others.
One Knowledge Holder said
if I don’t wear something Indigenous, they wouldn’t know that I was.
Some pointed out that First Nations fashion and style can be an important sign for them, especially if they feel they “pass” as non-Indigenous or look ethnically ambiguous.
But not all Knowledge Holders use fashion to show their identity. One told me they only wear First Nations clothing in solidarity with others, not as personal expression.
There’s more to learn and do
First Nations fashion and style is so much more than just clothing. It’s memory, resistance and a story we carry on our bodies.
As one of the Knowledge Holders put it:
we wasn’t allowed to be proud of it. Now we can wear [an Aboriginal] t-shirt whenever, all day every day.
That says it all. But there’s still work to do. We need to keep learning and understanding about all the different layers and identities that shape these experiences.
There is more research to be done to include more voices, like those of diverse genders and sexualities, Torres Strait Islanders and regional fashion scenes.
And it’s not just about research. We need more policies, more exhibitions, more programs and more platforms that celebrate First Nations fashion and style.
Treena Clark has received funding through the University of Technology Sydney Chancellor’s Indigenous Research Fellowship scheme.
US President Donald Trump’s proposed tariffs on Australia’s pharmaceutical exports to the United States has raised alarm among industry and government leaders.
There are fears that, if implemented, the tariffs could cost the Australian economy up to A$2.8 billion. That’s both in direct exports and as inputs to third countries that produce drugs also hit by tariffs.
The proposed tariffs come amid growing pressure from pharmaceutical lobby groups in the US for Trump to use trade negotiations as a tool to make changes to the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme (PBS) and raise Australian drug prices.
In response, Treasurer Jim Chalmers stated the government would not compromise the integrity of the PBS to do a deal with the Trump administration. Nationals Senator Bridget McKenzie also confirmed bipartisan support for the PBS.
Our largest export market for pharmaceuticals
The US is Australia’s biggest pharmaceutical export market, accounting for 38% of total Australian pharmaceutical exports and valued at $2.2 billion last year.
About 87% of exports to the US consist of blood plasma products, mainly from manufacturing giant CSL. These are used for transfusions in a range of medical and surgical situations.
In a submission to the US Commerce Department, which is reviewing the sector, CSL called for tariffs to be phased in over five years, and for an exemption for certain biotech equipment.
Trump floated proposed tariffs potentially as high as 200%. But he also said these would not be imposed for “about a year, a year and a half” to allow negotiations to take place.
It helps reduce the cost of essential medications, ensuring access to treatments for a wide range of medical conditions. Medicines included on the PBS are subsidised by the government, with the patient making a capped co-payment. More than 900 medicines were listed on the scheme in 2023–24, costing the government $17.7 billion.
Decisions to list medications on the PBS are made by the health minister based on recommendations from the Pharmaceutical Benefits Advisory Committee. The committee evaluates the clinical effectiveness, safety, cost-effectiveness (“value for money”) and estimated financial impact of new medications.
If approved, the PBS uses this information to negotiate directly with pharmaceutical companies, helping to keep prices affordable.
How does the US system compare?
This contrasts with the US system, which operates more under free-market principles. In the US, pharmaceuticals are subsidised through private health insurance or government programs such as Medicaid. Neither directly negotiates with pharmaceutical companies.
The fragmented nature of the US system enables pharmaceutical companies to maintain higher prices, as there is no central authority to enforce cost controls. Studies have shown that prices for pharmaceuticals in the US are, on average, 2.78 times those in 33 other countries.
In addition, in the US pharmaceutical companies are granted extensive patent protections. These provide exclusive rights to sell their drugs for a certain period.
This exclusivity often leads to monopolistic pricing practices, as generic competitors are barred from entering the market until the patent expires.
In Australia, patents also exist. But the PBS mitigates their impact by negotiating prices and promoting the use of cost-effective alternatives, such as generics, once they become available.
Industry lobbying
US pharmaceutical industry bodies have long criticised the PBS. They claim the scheme “undervalues new innovative medicines by setting prices based on older inferior medicines and generics, and through use of low and outdated monetary thresholds per year of life gained from clinically proven treatments”.
The slow process to list drugs on the PBS has also attracted criticism. The advisory committee meets only three times a year, with resources currently being stretched beyond capacity.
In response to these criticisms, the Australian government commissioned a review, which was completed in 2024. It provided 50 recommendations to ensure Australians can continue to access effective, safe and affordable medicines in an equitable and timely way.
The government has established an advisory group to work on implementing these recommendations. However, it is unclear whether proposed changes will appease the powerful US pharmaceutical industry.
I am responsible for evaluating new health technologies for consideration of government subsidy through the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme (PBS) and Medicare Benefits Schedule (MBS)
US President Donald Trump’s proposed tariffs on Australia’s pharmaceutical exports to the United States has raised alarm among industry and government leaders.
There are fears that, if implemented, the tariffs could cost the Australian economy up to A$2.8 billion. That’s both in direct exports and as inputs to third countries that produce drugs also hit by tariffs.
The proposed tariffs come amid growing pressure from pharmaceutical lobby groups in the US for Trump to use trade negotiations as a tool to make changes to the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme (PBS) and raise Australian drug prices.
In response, Treasurer Jim Chalmers stated the government would not compromise the integrity of the PBS to do a deal with the Trump administration. Nationals Senator Bridget McKenzie also confirmed bipartisan support for the PBS.
Our largest export market for pharmaceuticals
The US is Australia’s biggest pharmaceutical export market, accounting for 38% of total Australian pharmaceutical exports and valued at $2.2 billion last year.
About 87% of exports to the US consist of blood plasma products, mainly from manufacturing giant CSL. These are used for transfusions in a range of medical and surgical situations.
In a submission to the US Commerce Department, which is reviewing the sector, CSL called for tariffs to be phased in over five years, and for an exemption for certain biotech equipment.
Trump floated proposed tariffs potentially as high as 200%. But he also said these would not be imposed for “about a year, a year and a half” to allow negotiations to take place.
It helps reduce the cost of essential medications, ensuring access to treatments for a wide range of medical conditions. Medicines included on the PBS are subsidised by the government, with the patient making a capped co-payment. More than 900 medicines were listed on the scheme in 2023–24, costing the government $17.7 billion.
Decisions to list medications on the PBS are made by the health minister based on recommendations from the Pharmaceutical Benefits Advisory Committee. The committee evaluates the clinical effectiveness, safety, cost-effectiveness (“value for money”) and estimated financial impact of new medications.
If approved, the PBS uses this information to negotiate directly with pharmaceutical companies, helping to keep prices affordable.
How does the US system compare?
This contrasts with the US system, which operates more under free-market principles. In the US, pharmaceuticals are subsidised through private health insurance or government programs such as Medicaid. Neither directly negotiates with pharmaceutical companies.
The fragmented nature of the US system enables pharmaceutical companies to maintain higher prices, as there is no central authority to enforce cost controls. Studies have shown that prices for pharmaceuticals in the US are, on average, 2.78 times those in 33 other countries.
In addition, in the US pharmaceutical companies are granted extensive patent protections. These provide exclusive rights to sell their drugs for a certain period.
This exclusivity often leads to monopolistic pricing practices, as generic competitors are barred from entering the market until the patent expires.
In Australia, patents also exist. But the PBS mitigates their impact by negotiating prices and promoting the use of cost-effective alternatives, such as generics, once they become available.
Industry lobbying
US pharmaceutical industry bodies have long criticised the PBS. They claim the scheme “undervalues new innovative medicines by setting prices based on older inferior medicines and generics, and through use of low and outdated monetary thresholds per year of life gained from clinically proven treatments”.
The slow process to list drugs on the PBS has also attracted criticism. The advisory committee meets only three times a year, with resources currently being stretched beyond capacity.
In response to these criticisms, the Australian government commissioned a review, which was completed in 2024. It provided 50 recommendations to ensure Australians can continue to access effective, safe and affordable medicines in an equitable and timely way.
The government has established an advisory group to work on implementing these recommendations. However, it is unclear whether proposed changes will appease the powerful US pharmaceutical industry.
I am responsible for evaluating new health technologies for consideration of government subsidy through the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme (PBS) and Medicare Benefits Schedule (MBS)
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By James Laurenceson, Director and Professor, Australia-China Relations Institute (UTS:ACRI), University of Technology Sydney
Prime Minister Anthony Albanese leaves for China on Saturday, confident most Australians back the government’s handling of relations with our most important economic partner and the leading strategic power in Asia.
Albanese’s domestic critics have lambasted him for meeting Chinese leader Xi Jinping before United States President Donald Trump. They are also aggrieved at his refusal to label China a security threat.
But neither criticism really stacks up.
An Albanese-Trump meeting would have happened last month on the sidelines of a G7 gathering in Canada. It was Trump who left early, standing up more leaders than just Albanese.
Nor is Albanese the first Australian prime minister to meet a Chinese president before an American one. His predecessor Tony Abbott caught up with Xi a few weeks after coming to office in 2013, before he had a chance to meet President Barack Obama.
‘Friends, not foes’
Meanwhile, polling indicates just one in five Australians see the relationship with China first and foremost as “a threat to be confronted”. Rather, a clear two-thirds majority see it as “a complex relationship to be managed”.
Albanese is also regarded as more competent than his opposition counterpart in handling Australia’s foreign policy generally – and better at managing the China relationship specifically.
The prime minister’s Chinese hosts also have an incentive to ensure his visit is a successful one.
In the past fortnight, China’s ambassador in Canberra, Xiao Qian, has penned opinion pieces in two of Australia’s biggest media outlets, insisting Australia and China are “friends, not foes” and touting the “comprehensive turnaround” in bilateral ties since Labor won government in May 2022.
Beijing and Washington view each other as their geopolitical priority. Beijing can make it harder for Washington to enlist security allies such as Canberra in this rivalry by maintaining its own strong and constructive bilateral ties with Australia.
And quite apart from the competition with the US, China relied on Australia last year as its fifth largest import source.
Plenty of complaints
None of this is to say Albanese’s visit will be easy, because Australia-China relations are rarely smooth.
Canberra continues to have many complaints about China’s international behaviour.
For example, Foreign Minister Penny Wong recently signed a joint statement with her counterparts in Washington, Tokyo and New Delhi expressing “serious concerns regarding dangerous and provocative actions” by China in the East and South China Seas, and the “abrupt constriction […] of key supply chains”.
Wong has also said the government remains “appalled” by the treatment of Australians imprisoned in China, including Dr Yang Jun, who is facing espionage charges he strongly denies.
Defence Minister Richard Marles has voiced Canberra’s alarm at Beijing’s “no limits agreement” with Moscow, and claimed China has
engaged in the biggest conventional military build-up since the end of the second world war.
However, this assessment is contested by independent Australian analysts.
Beijing also has plenty of complaints. They include Canberra’s ongoing pursuit of closer military cooperation with the US and UK through the AUKUS pact.
There is also the commitment to forcing the sale of the lease to operate the Port of Darwin that is currently held by a Chinese company.
Reliable trading partner
Albanese has already made clear his visit to China will have a strong economic focus.
While grappling with security challenges, any Australian government, Labor or Coalition, must face the reality that last year, local companies sold more to China – worth A$196 billion – than our next four largest markets combined.
China is also, by far, Australia’s biggest supplier, putting downward pressure on the cost of living.
Research produced by Curtin University, commissioned by the Australia-China Business Council, finds trade with China increases disposable income of the average Australian household by $2,600, or 4.6% per person.
In an ideal world, Australia would have a more diversified trading mix.
But again, any Australian government or business must grapple with the reality that obvious major alternative markets, like the US, are not only less interested in local goods and services, but are walking away from their past trade commitments.
This also explains Alabese’s response when he was asked in April if he would support Trump’s trade war against China:
It would be extraordinary if the Australian response was “thank you” and we will help to further hurt our economy
Likewise, Trade Minister Don Farrell is adamant Australia’s interests will determine the Albanese government’s choices, not “what the Americans may or may not want”.
We don’t want to do less business with China, we want to do more business with China.
Deeper trade ties with Asia, including China, are not just about making a buck. Wong has stressed the national security implications of a strong economic relationship:
[It is] an investment in our security. Stability and prosperity are mutually reinforcing.
All of this means Albanese’s six-day visit to China is shaping up to be time well spent.
James Laurenceson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
There’s been much talk recently – especially among politicians – about productivity. And for good reason: Australia’s labour productivity growth sits at a 60-year low.
To address this, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has convened a productivity round table next month. This will coincide with the release of an interim report from the Productivity Commission, which is looking at five pillars of reform. One of these is the role of data and digital technologies, including artificial intelligence (AI).
But what do we really know about how AI impacts productivity?
What is productivity?
Put simply, productivity is how much output (goods and services) we can produce from a given amount of inputs (such as labour and raw materials). It matters because higher productivity typically translates to a higher standard of living. Productivity growth has accounted for 80% of Australia’s income growth over the past three decades.
Productivity can be thought of as individual, organisational or national.
Your individual productivity is how efficiently you manage your time and resources to complete tasks. How many emails can you respond to in an hour? How many products can you check for defects in a day?
Organisational productivity is how well an organisation achieves its goals. For example, in a research organisation, how many top-quality research papers are produced?
National productivity is the economic efficiency of a nation, often measured as gross domestic product per hour worked. It is effectively an aggregate of the other forms. But it’s notoriously difficult to track how changes in individual or organisational productivity translate into national GDP per hour worked.
AI and individual productivity
The nascent research examining the relationship between AI and individual productivity shows mixed results.
A 2025 real-world study of AI and productivity involved 776 experienced product professionals at US multinational company Procter & Gamble. The study showed that individuals randomly assigned to use AI performed as well as a team of two without. A similar study in 2023 with 750 consultants from Boston Consulting Group found tasks were 18% faster with generative AI.
A 2023 paper reported on an early generative AI system in a Fortune 500 software company used by 5,200 customer support agents. The system showed a 14% increase in the number of issues resolved per hour. For less experienced agents, productivity increased by 35%.
But AI doesn’t always increase individual productivity.
A survey of 2,500 professionals found generative AI actually increased workload for 77% of workers. Some 47% said they didn’t know how to unlock productivity benefits. The study points to barriers such as the need to verify and/or correct AI outputs, the need for AI upskilling, and unreasonable expectations about what AI can do.
A recent CSIRO study examined the daily use of Microsoft 365 Copilot by 300 employees of a government organisation. While the majority self-reported productivity benefits, a sizeable minority (30%) did not. Even those workers who reported productivity improvements expected greater productivity benefits than were delivered.
AI and organisational productivity
It’s difficult, if not impossible, to attribute changes in an organisation’s productivity to the introduction of AI. Businesses are sensitive to many social and organisational factors, any one of which could be the reason for a change in productivity.
Nevertheless, the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) has estimated the productivity benefits of traditional AI – that is, machine learning applied for an industry-specific task – to be zero to 11% at the organisational level.
A 2024 summary paper cites independent studies showing increases in organisational productivity from AI in Germany, Italy and Taiwan.
In contrast, a 2022 analysis of 300,000 US firms didn’t find a significant correlation between AI adoption and productivity, but did for other technologies such as robotics and cloud computing. Likely explanations are that AI hasn’t yet had an effect on many firms, or simply that it’s too hard to disentangle the impact of AI given it’s never applied in isolation.
AI productivity increases can also sometimes be masked by additional human labour needed to train or operate AI systems. Take Amazon’s Just Walk Out technology for shops.
More generally, think about the unknown number (but likely millions) of people paid to label data for AI models.
AI and national productivity
The picture at a national level is even murkier.
Clearly, AI hasn’t yet impacted national productivity. It can be argued that technology developments take time to affect national productivity, as companies need to figure out how to use the technology and put the necessary infrastructure and skills in place.
The common narrative around AI and productivity is that AI automates mundane tasks, making us faster at doing things and giving us more time for creative pursuits. This, however, is a naive view of how work happens.
Just because you can deal with your inbox more quickly doesn’t mean you’ll spend your afternoon on the beach. The more emails you fire off, the more you’ll receive back, and the never-ending cycle continues.
Imagine a world in which AI isn’t simply about speeding up tasks but proactively slows us down, to give us space to be more innovative, and more productive. That’s the real untapped opportunity with AI.
Jon Whittle works at CSIRO which receives R&D funding from a wide range of government and industry clients.
The Australian Competition & Consumer Commission (ACCC) has fined Bupa A$35 million for unlawfully rejecting thousands of health insurance claims over more than five years.
Between May 2018 and August 2023 Bupa incorrectly rejected claims from patients who had multiple medical procedures, with at least one of those procedures covered under their health insurance policy.
Instead of paying the portion of the treatment that was covered, Bupa’s automated systems wrongly rejected the entire claim.
Each tier has a minimum set of “clinical categories”. These are groups of hospital treatments that must be covered.
For example, basic hospital cover only has three mandatory inclusions: rehabilitation, hospital psychiatric services and palliative care. But this is “restricted” cover, meaning patients will often still have to pay substantial out-of-pocket costs for these services.
Basic cover is entry-level cover, mainly for people who want to avoid the Lifetime Health Cover loading and the Medicare Levy Surcharge. These are both ways of encouraging people to take up private health insurance while young and keeping it, especially people on higher incomes.
At the other end of the scale is gold cover, which includes unrestricted cover for all defined clinical categories, including pregnancy and birth.
You can generally change your level of cover at any time. When you upgrade to include new services or increase benefits for existing services, you will need to serve new waiting periods for those new or increased benefits.
A common waiting period is 12 months for pre-existing conditions (any ailment, illness or condition that you had signs or symptoms of during the six months before upgrading, even if undiagnosed), and for pregnancy and birth-related services. But there is generally only a two-month waiting period for psychiatric care, rehabilitation or palliative care, even if it’s for a pre-existing condition.
It’s a good idea to review your policy every two years because your health needs and financial circumstances can change.
How much do companies pay out?
The proportion of premiums that are paid out to cover medical claims is known as the “average payout ratio”. And this has been about 84–86% over most of the past 20 years.
This does not mean your health insurer will pay out 84–86% of your individual claim. This national average accounts for the percentage of all premiums in any one year, across all insurers, that’s paid out in claims.
That’s because for-profit health insurers have pressure to deliver profits to shareholders and have incentives to minimise payouts and control costs.
If not properly managed, these incentives may result in higher out-of-pocket expenses and denied claims.
Why has my claim been rejected?
Common reasons for claims to be rejected include:
the policy excluded or restricted the clinical category
the waiting period was not served
incorrect information (for example, a doctor billed an incorrect item number)
what’s known as “mixed coverage” (as in the Bupa scandal), where not everything in a claim is covered, but the entire claim is declined.
What if I think there’s an error?
If your health insurance company refuses your claim, you can request a detailed explanation in writing.
If you believe your claim has been incorrectly denied, you can make a formal complaint directly with the insurer. For this you need to check your policy documents, and gather supporting evidence. This may include detailed invoices, medical reports, referral letters and correct item numbers.
If you are not satisfied with the outcome of the health fund’s internal review, or the fund doesn’t respond with the specific time-frame (for instance, 30–45 days), you can escalate your complaint.
You can get in touch with the Commonwealth Ombudsman (phone: 1300 362 072). This provides a free, independent complaint handling service for a range of consumer issues, including health insurance.
The Bupa scandal, along with ongoing concerns about transparency and rising out-of-pocket costs, highlights the need for policy reforms to better protect consumers.
The government should require health insurers and health-care providers to give clear estimates of all potential out-of-pocket costs for a procedure before it happens. This would avoid unexpected bills and help consumers make informed decisions about their health care.
Yuting Zhang has received funding from the Australian Research Council (future fellowship project ID FT200100630), Department of Veterans’ Affairs, the Victorian Department of Health, National Health and Medical Research Council and Eastern Melbourne Primary Health Network. In the past, Professor Zhang has received funding from several US institutes including the US National Institutes of Health, Commonwealth fund, Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality, and Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. She has not received funding from for-profit industry including the private health insurance industry.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Andrew Lensen, Senior Lecturer in Artificial Intelligence, Te Herenga Waka — Victoria University of Wellington
The government’s newly unveiled National AI Strategy is all about what its title says: “Investing with Confidence”. It tells businesses that Aotearoa New Zealand is open for AI use, and that our “light touch” approach won’t get in their way.
The question now is whether the claims made for AI by Minister of Science, Innovation and Technology Shane Reti – that it will help boost productivity and enable the economy to grow by billions of dollars – can be justified.
Generative AI – the kind powering ChatGPT, CoPilot and Google’s video generator Veo 3 – is certainly earning money. In its latest funding round in April, OpenAI was valued at US$300 billion.
Nvidia, which makes the hardware that powers AI technology, just became the first publicly traded company to surpass a $4 trillion market valuation. It’d be great if New Zealand could get a slice of that pie.
New Zealand doesn’t have the capacity to build new generative AI systems, however. That takes tens of thousands of NVIDIA’s chips, costing many millions of dollars that only big tech companies or large nation states can afford.
What New Zealand can do is build new systems and services around these models, either by fine-tuning them, or using them as part of a bigger software system or service.
The government isn’t offering any new money to help companies do this. Its AI strategy is about reducing barriers, providing regulatory guidance, building capacity and ensuring adaption happens responsibly.
But there aren’t many barriers to begin with. The regulatory guidance contained in the strategy essentially says “we won’t regulate”. Existing laws are said to be “technology-neutral” and therefore sufficient.
As for building capacity, the country’s tertiary sector is more under-funded than ever, with universities cutting courses and staff. Humanities research into AI ethics is also ineligible for government funding as it doesn’t contribute to economic growth.
A relaxed regulatory regime
The issue of responsible adoption is perhaps of most concern. The 42-page “Responsible AI Guidance for Businesses” document, released alongside the strategy, contains useful material on issues such as detecting bias, measuring model accuracy, and human oversight. But it is just that – guidance – and entirely voluntary.
This puts New Zealand among the most relaxed nations when it comes to AI regulation, along with Japan and Singapore. At the other end is the European Union, which enacted its comprehensive AI Act in 2024, and has stood fast against lobbying to delay legislative rollout.
The relaxed approach is interesting in light of New Zealand being ranked third-to-last out of 47 countries in a recent survey of trust in AI. In another survey from last year, 66% of New Zealanders reported being nervous about the impacts of AI.
Some of the nervousness can be explained by AI being a new technology with well documented examples of inappropriate use, intentional or not. Deepfakes as a form of cyber bulling have become a major concern. Even the ACT Party, not generally in favour of more regulation, wants to criminalise the creation and sharing of non-consensual, sexually explicit deepfakes.
Generative image, video and music creation is reducing the demand for creative workers – even though it is their very work that was used to train the AI models.
But there are other, more subtle issues, too. AI systems learn from data. If that data is biased, then those systems will learn to be biased, too.
New Zealanders are right to be anxious about the prospect of private sector companies denying them jobs, entry to supermarkets or a bank loan because of something in their pasts. Because modern deep learning models are so complex and impenetrable, it can be impossible to determine how an AI system made a decision.
And what of the potential for AI to be used online to mislead voters and discredit the democratic process, as the New York Times has reported may have occurred already in at least 50 cases?
Managing risk the European way
The strategy is essentially silent on all of these issues. It also doesn’t mention Te Tiriti o Waitangi/Treaty of Waitangi. Even Google’s AI summary tells me this is the nation’s founding document, laying the groundwork for Māori and the Crown to coexist.
Allowing these systems to be imported and deployed in Aotearoa New Zealand in sensitive applications – healthcare or justice, for example – without any regulation or oversight risks worsening inequalities even further.
“Unacceptable risk” – the likes of social scoring (where individuals’ daily activities are monitored and scored for their societal benefit) and AI hacking – is outright banned.
High-risk systems, such as uses for employment or transportation infrastructure, require strict obligations, including risk assessments and human oversight.
Limited and minimal risk applications – the biggest category by far – imposes very little red tape on companies.
This feels like a mature approach New Zealand might emulate. It wouldn’t stymie productivity much – unless companies were doing something risky. In which case, the 66% of New Zealanders who are nervous about AI might well agree it’s worth slowing down and getting it right.
Andrew Lensen receives government funding from the Ministry of Business, Innovation, and Employment through contestable academic research funds. He is the co-director of LensenMcGavin AI, a consultancy specialising in the responsible uptake of AI in Aotearoa.
It’s such a familiar pattern. When a big scandal breaks publicly, governments jump into action, ministers rush out to say they’ll “do something” instantly.
But how come they hadn’t seen problems that had been in plain sight?
Who can forget then-workplace relations minister Tony Burke insisting he’d been unaware, before media revelations, that organised crime was in the CFMEU? After a Nine media expose, a large portion of the notorious union soon ended up in administration.
When a childcare worker was charged with some 70 offences last week, Education Minister Jason Clare immediately declared he’d introduce legislation in the new parliament’s first sitting for the removal of federal funds from errant providers.
After ABC reporter Adele Ferguson had exposed serious safety issues in the system on Four Corners in March, the Albanese government announced it would be “exploring” various measures to strengthen Commonwealth powers “to deal with providers that put profit over quality and child safety at risk”.
In another expose, Ferguson this week revealed substantial problems in the training system for childcare workers.
Federally, childcare comes under the education minister, and there’s also a dedicated minister for early childhood education (Anne Aly last term, now Jess Walsh). Basically, the federal government funds the system while the states and territories regulate it.
Anthony Albanese made major promises for expanding childcare in his 2022 and 2025 election pitches. The government also supported higher wages for workers in the sector. Albanese has nominated “affordable childcare” as the legacy he wants to leave.
It’s all the more surprising, then, that the government didn’t seem to spot a plethora of problems in an area so central to the prime minister’s ambitions.
The government points to the division of responsibility between Commonwealth and states.
But surely that explanation doesn’t wash or, if it does, the relevant federal and state ministers, public servants and the regulators have not been doing their designated jobs effectively.
In various human service policy areas, there are split responsibilities, which differ in specific arrangements.
Politically, this often brings blame-shifting, and arguments over money and accountability.
The federal government attaches conditions, for example, to funding agreements for hospitals and schools, which fall under state responsibility. But in practice, there are slippages.
Split responsibilities, whatever their precise form, can never be “set and forget” – rigorous, constant scrutiny needs to be built in.
Childcare policy has its complications. But, in terms of complexities, it is nothing like, say, running the nation’s defences. There are not unknowns.
The obvious issues within childcare include funding, safety, workforce numbers and training.
The childcare revelations will inevitably lead to new regulations – ironically just as a debate about the desirability of easing excessive regulation in some sectors has become fashionable. In many policy areas, there are tensions between regulation and costs, and no unanimity about where the trade offs should be struck.
The childcare imbroglio highlights the challenges when public policy is substantially delivered by the “for profit” private sector. Social services expert Gabrielle Meagher, professor emerita at Macquarie University, says, “It’s very difficult to regulate across the gaps governments open up when they fund policies that they don’t deliver themselves”.
The childcare issue also invites much wider questions about how “governing” is working. Such as, are ministers too distracted?
Today’s ministers spend more time than ever in the media, and travelling (part of the modern “permanent” election campaign). This takes a large amount of their attention. The prime minister is in the media most days.
One has to wonder how much of this is a diversion for ministers from detailed policy work, especially as they must bone up on “talking points” because, given the 24-hour news cycle, they will be quizzed about issues outside their portfolios. They usually feel obliged to offer an opinion, rather than saying “sorry, that’s not my bag”.
What about the public servants, who are formally responsible for policy advice, implementation and supervising?
We saw with Robodebt shocking behaviour by some bureaucrats. There have been substantial reforms since then and, apart from that, the Albanese government has boosted the numbers and strengthened the capability of the public service.
But is it fit-for-purpose? If it were, wouldn’t the problems in childcare, apparently well-known among many parents, have filtered up through the system to the ears of ministers – even allowing that regulation rests mainly with the states?
Apart from failures by state regulators, one issue is who is telling what to whom about the sector. The federal minister responsible for early childhood education visits dozens of childcare centres. But on those visits, the minister will be talking to managers, who will have their own set of concerns. The minister is less likely at the centres to encounter parents who have had a bad experience.
This goes to a wider problem: in areas of human service delivery, providers of services will usually be organised, while consumers lack the same coherent and forceful voice. Complaining through the media may be only way for families using a service to bring things to light.
But what about the complaints that do flow into government departments, and ministers’ offices? Surely these give a channel for the red flags that point to a policy failure?
Bureaucrats say all this communication amounts to a great deal of “noise”, but the challenge is to identify what it signifies, in terms of substantive problems to be addressed.
When programs are growing very fast, the risk is that corners are cut in delivery. We saw this, disastrously, years ago during the global financial crisis when the Rudd government rolled out the home insulation scheme. A royal commission was damning about the failures of the program, which was marked by several deaths and many household fires. Safety had been compromised in the pursuit of speed and the delivery framework was inadequate.
There are many lessons from the childcare policy failures. A big announcement does not automatically mean a successful policy delivery. Programs can be working on some fronts while flawed on others. All new or expanded policies should come with detailed evaluation arrangements which are then carefully monitored. And while ministers will boast publicly about how well a policy is doing, they should be constantly demanding to know from their bureaucrats where things might be going wrong.
Michelle Grattan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
On July 6, an arson attack targeted the East Melbourne Synagogue. It was the latest in a series of antisemitic incidents recorded across Australia since October 7 2023, when Hamas carried out a horrific terrorist attack, killing about 1,200 Israelis. These domestic incidents have escalated in both number and severity.
Australia has not previously experienced antisemitism at this scale. In response, the Albanese government appointed Jillian Segal as the nation’s first special envoy for combating antisemitism, and commissioned a plan with recommendations to address the issue.
1. Preventing violence and crime, including a proposed law enforcement framework to improve coordination between agencies, and new policies aimed at stopping dangerous individuals from entering Australia.
2. Strengthening protections against hate speech, by regulating all forms of hate, including antisemitism, and increasing oversight of platform policies and algorithms.
3. Promoting antisemitism-free media, education and cultural spaces, through journalist training, education programs, and conditions on public funding for organisations that promote or fail to address antisemitism.
The government has said it will consider the recommendations.
These measures are broadly reasonable and make practical sense. Some – such as those aimed at preventing violence and crime – are more straightforward to implement than others. It would also be logical to apply them to all forms of hate, not just antisemitism.
But that needs to be done with caution. We don’t want to create an environment in which any criticism of a community or group is shut down by regulation.
In a democracy, open and robust debate is essential. The challenge lies in the details: how we define hate, and where we draw the threshold for what counts as hate.
The document ignores the elephant in the room: whether the plan could be used to silence legitimate criticism of Israel.
The special envoy’s plan notes antisemitism has risen since October 7, but it does not fully explain the context. Israel’s military response in Gaza, which has killed more than 57,000 Palestinians, has prompted a wave of global protest and criticism of Israel, including accusations of genocide.
In this context, the line between antisemitism and criticism of Israel has become more difficult and contested than ever. Some people who attack Israel or Zionism may be expressing antisemitic views. Others may not. Distinguishing between the two is complex, but essential.
The envoy adopts the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance’s definition of antisemitism, which covers both direct attacks on Jewish identity and certain criticisms of Israel, such as comparisons with Nazi Germany.
In my experience as a researcher working on online hate (including antisemitism), even members of the Jewish community adopting this definition often disagree on how to apply it.
The threshold varies – for example when deciding whether an online post or a statement crosses the line into antisemitism.
So where should we draw that line? It’s a crucial question. If the envoy’s recommendations are implemented, decisions about funding, visas, and even criminal charges could depend on it.
There is, of course, broad agreement on some cases. Setting fire to a synagogue is clearly antisemitic – it targets a Jewish place of worship.
Similarly, attacking a Jewish-owned business or damaging property in a Jewish neighbourhood suggests the target was chosen because it was Jewish.
Some people – often those already harbouring anti-Jewish views – treat the entire Jewish community as if it represents the Netanyahu government or the Israel Defense Forces.
This ignores the diversity of views within Jewish communities. That lack of nuance fuels antisemitism.
Few would disagree that antisemitic acts include attacks on Jewish people or property carried out indiscriminately, or when anti-Israel protests attempt to hold the whole Jewish community collectively responsible for the actions of the Israeli government.
But we also need to be realistic. We are unlikely to eliminate all forms of antisemitic hate or intimidation from public life. Hate can be expressed without breaching laws, and people can intimidate others while staying just within legal boundaries.
Humour, sarcasm and coded language are often used to incite hatred without triggering any formal consequence. That kind of harm is much harder to prevent – and it may be something we have to learn to live with, while continuing to push back against it.
Rebuilding trust
In the long term, the only real solution is building mutual understanding. That’s why personal relationships matter.
Knowing someone who is Jewish is one of the strongest antidotes to antisemitism. When you have a Jewish friend, you’re less likely to believe or spread the myths that circulate online and offline about what Jewish people think, believe or represent.
The same applies to all forms of hate. Direct contact helps break down stereotypes across all communities.
The problem is that the current context is pushing communities apart. Segregation and isolation are increasing. Before October 7, there was meaningful interfaith work happening – Jewish students visiting the Islamic Museum, Muslim students visiting the Holocaust Museum. That work has largelystopped.
Now, people are retreating into fear, distrust and generalisations. All nuance is lost. The “other” becomes a single, threatening enemy.
It will take time to rebuild that trust – and the longer the war continues, the harder it will be.
Matteo Vergani receives funding from the Campbell Collaboration, NSW Department of Premier and Cabinet, the Department of Home Affairs.
On July 6, an arson attack targeted the East Melbourne Synagogue. It was the latest in a series of antisemitic incidents recorded across Australia since October 7 2023, when Hamas carried out a horrific terrorist attack, killing about 1,200 Israelis. These domestic incidents have escalated in both number and severity.
Australia has not previously experienced antisemitism at this scale. In response, the Albanese government appointed Jillian Segal as the nation’s first special envoy for combating antisemitism, and commissioned a plan with recommendations to address the issue.
1. Preventing violence and crime, including a proposed law enforcement framework to improve coordination between agencies, and new policies aimed at stopping dangerous individuals from entering Australia.
2. Strengthening protections against hate speech, by regulating all forms of hate, including antisemitism, and increasing oversight of platform policies and algorithms.
3. Promoting antisemitism-free media, education and cultural spaces, through journalist training, education programs, and conditions on public funding for organisations that promote or fail to address antisemitism.
The government has said it will consider the recommendations.
These measures are broadly reasonable and make practical sense. Some – such as those aimed at preventing violence and crime – are more straightforward to implement than others. It would also be logical to apply them to all forms of hate, not just antisemitism.
But that needs to be done with caution. We don’t want to create an environment in which any criticism of a community or group is shut down by regulation.
In a democracy, open and robust debate is essential. The challenge lies in the details: how we define hate, and where we draw the threshold for what counts as hate.
The document ignores the elephant in the room: whether the plan could be used to silence legitimate criticism of Israel.
The special envoy’s plan notes antisemitism has risen since October 7, but it does not fully explain the context. Israel’s military response in Gaza, which has killed more than 57,000 Palestinians, has prompted a wave of global protest and criticism of Israel, including accusations of genocide.
In this context, the line between antisemitism and criticism of Israel has become more difficult and contested than ever. Some people who attack Israel or Zionism may be expressing antisemitic views. Others may not. Distinguishing between the two is complex, but essential.
The envoy adopts the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance’s definition of antisemitism, which covers both direct attacks on Jewish identity and certain criticisms of Israel, such as comparisons with Nazi Germany.
In my experience as a researcher working on online hate (including antisemitism), even members of the Jewish community adopting this definition often disagree on how to apply it.
The threshold varies – for example when deciding whether an online post or a statement crosses the line into antisemitism.
So where should we draw that line? It’s a crucial question. If the envoy’s recommendations are implemented, decisions about funding, visas, and even criminal charges could depend on it.
There is, of course, broad agreement on some cases. Setting fire to a synagogue is clearly antisemitic – it targets a Jewish place of worship.
Similarly, attacking a Jewish-owned business or damaging property in a Jewish neighbourhood suggests the target was chosen because it was Jewish.
Some people – often those already harbouring anti-Jewish views – treat the entire Jewish community as if it represents the Netanyahu government or the Israel Defense Forces.
This ignores the diversity of views within Jewish communities. That lack of nuance fuels antisemitism.
Few would disagree that antisemitic acts include attacks on Jewish people or property carried out indiscriminately, or when anti-Israel protests attempt to hold the whole Jewish community collectively responsible for the actions of the Israeli government.
But we also need to be realistic. We are unlikely to eliminate all forms of antisemitic hate or intimidation from public life. Hate can be expressed without breaching laws, and people can intimidate others while staying just within legal boundaries.
Humour, sarcasm and coded language are often used to incite hatred without triggering any formal consequence. That kind of harm is much harder to prevent – and it may be something we have to learn to live with, while continuing to push back against it.
Rebuilding trust
In the long term, the only real solution is building mutual understanding. That’s why personal relationships matter.
Knowing someone who is Jewish is one of the strongest antidotes to antisemitism. When you have a Jewish friend, you’re less likely to believe or spread the myths that circulate online and offline about what Jewish people think, believe or represent.
The same applies to all forms of hate. Direct contact helps break down stereotypes across all communities.
The problem is that the current context is pushing communities apart. Segregation and isolation are increasing. Before October 7, there was meaningful interfaith work happening – Jewish students visiting the Islamic Museum, Muslim students visiting the Holocaust Museum. That work has largelystopped.
Now, people are retreating into fear, distrust and generalisations. All nuance is lost. The “other” becomes a single, threatening enemy.
It will take time to rebuild that trust – and the longer the war continues, the harder it will be.
Matteo Vergani receives funding from the Campbell Collaboration, NSW Department of Premier and Cabinet, the Department of Home Affairs.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Georgette Leah Burns, Associate Professor, Griffith School of Environment and Science, Griffith University
Luciano Gonzalez/Anadolu via Getty Images
Last weekend, a woman was mauled by a lioness at Darling Downs Zoo in Queensland, and lost her arm. The zoo, which keeps nine lions, has been operating for 20 years and had never experienced an incident such as this.
The victim was a relative of the zoo owner, Steve Robinson, who told the media the lions were not aggressive and the lioness was thought to be “just playing”.
Although attacks like this are extremely rare, they are obviously of great concern. The incident should prompt a rethink of our approach to wild animals in captivity, and whether it’s morally acceptable – or safe – to keep them there at all.
Why do zoos exist?
Zoos, aquariums and other settings where wild animals are kept captive exist for two main reasons: human entertainment and profit-making.
Surveys show zoo visitors have a preference for large mammals such as elephants, primates and big cats.
Some animals are more tolerant of captivity conditions and exposure to humans than others. Fish, for example, seem to respond more neutrally to human presence than most other species.
But a recent study found captive animals generally demonstrate abnormal behaviour more often than non-captive ones.
For most wild animals, captivity deprives them of the ability to engage in natural behaviour, which harms their welfare. For example, free-living dolphins and whales have long-range migration patterns which require vast ocean spaces. They are also highly social and display complex communication behaviour.
Captive dolphins were once common in aquariums and marine parks across Australia. But now only one facility, Sea World in Queensland, still breeds dolphins for entertainment.
Another important welfare question is whether the captive animal has “agency” – that is, whether it can make choices as it would in the wild.
Can it choose, for example, which other animals it has relationships with? Or whether it has privacy? Having control over such decisions enhances the quality of life for the captive animal.
It’s important to note that some zoos can deliver positive outcomes for animals. Many play an important conservation role, such as running captive breeding programs for endangered species.
An example is a long-running program across several Australian zoos and other organisations to recover populations of the critically endangered Regent Honeyeater. The program has released more than 400 zoo-bred birds into the wild.
However, such conservation programs do not necessarily need to involve zoos to succeed.
Weighing up the risks
No matter how domesticated they might seem, some wild animals in captivity will always pose a risk to humans. Their behaviour can be unpredictable and, as the recent Queensland example shows, even a “playing” lioness can cause enormous physical harm to people.
Wild animals are called wild for a reason. To be kept in captivity, most animals require training so they can be safely handled. The Darling Downs Zoo incident shows despite this precaution, things can still go wrong.
But humans will, understandably, always be fascinated by other animals, and want to see them up close. So what are the alternatives to zoos?
Open range-zoos, such as the one to which the Perth elephants were moved, can offer a better option for some animals.
Another option is to recreate the zoo experience using technology. Artificial intelligence, virtual reality and augmented reality can be used to create images of animals that look and seem real.
Questions about animals kept in captivity require us to consider how much risk to human safety we accept, and the extent to which we prioritise human amusement over animal welfare. In searching for answers, we can start by asking whether we need zoos at all.
Georgette Leah Burns does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Australia’s drug approval system is under fire, with critics in the United States claiming it is too slow to approve life-saving medicines.
Australia’s Therapeutic Goods Administration balances speed with a rigorous assessment of safety, efficacy and cost-effectiveness.
So does Australia really lag behind the US Food and Drug Administration? And do we need to change how we approve medicines?
The drug development pipeline
Drug development usually begins when something new is discovered about a disease. This usually involves identifying either a change in an important protein or finding a new protein involved in the disease.
When scientists know the shape of the protein, they can design a drug that can block or activate it.
Scientists will then undertake laboratory, petri dish-type, experiments to see if the drug works on the protein in the way they designed. If it passes those tests, they will then move onto animal testing and formulation.
Formulation is the step where scientists decide what form the medicine will take, such as a tablet, injection or patch. There are more than 150 different pharmaceutical dosage forms to choose from.
The final steps are human testing. This requires the completion of three types of clinical trials. Each seeks to answer different specific questions about the drug:
Phase I trials: is the drug safe? What are its side effects?
Phase II trials: does the drug work?
Phase III trials: is the drug better than currently available medicines?
At the end of the trials, a company can apply to the Therapeutic Goods Administration (TGA) for approval to market and sell the drug.
Getting a drug to market is time-consuming and costly. It takes around 15 years from the initial concept and design to government approval and costs more than A$3.5 billion.
But the failure rate is high: more than 90% of drugs that undergo development never gain government approval.
How are drugs approved in Australia?
The decision to approve new medicines for sale in Australia is made based on safety and efficacy evidence provided by the sponsoring company.
Listing a medicine on the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme (PBS) is a separate process from approval, and is based on financial considerations and a cost-benefit analysis, rather than safety and efficacy.
The TGA typically takes 240 to 260 working days (around a full calendar year) from receiving a new medicine application to an approval decision. This is longer than it takes the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) – 180 to 300 days.
Where there is a pressing need, the approval process can be faster. The first COVID treatment was approved in Australia just two weeks after it was submitted for consideration.
Then why do Americans often get medicines first?
There can be several reasons why a drug approval can be delayed in Australia when it has already been approved overseas.
First, with a population of 27 million out of 8 billion world-wide, Australia is a relatively small market. So it is not always a high priority for companies to apply for approval here. Regions with large populations such as China, India and Europe are a bigger focus for companies. This can therefore delay when they submit to Australia.
Other reasons for delays can be that the TGA requires additional safety or efficacy evidence other regions did not request, or because new information about the drug has come to light since the drug was approved overseas.
What about delays getting drugs onto the PBS?
When a drug is listed on the PBS, Australians can access the medicine for $31.60 (or $7.70 concession) instead of the cost of a private prescription which might be hundreds or even thousands of dollars.
The time it takes for medicines to be approved on the PBS has also been a focus of criticism.
The Pharmaceutical Benefits Advisory Committee (PBAC), which makes PBS listing recommendations to the Federal Minister of Health, only sits three to six times per year.
US Chamber of Commerce vice president John Murphy claims the PBAC takes, on average, 32 months to make a recommendation about listing a drug after an application has been submitted.
Once a recommendation is made, the minister usually takes a minimum of five months to make a final decision.
To speed up the process, the TGA does allow parallel applications for drug approval and PBS listing.
The time taken to make a PBS listing decision is reasonable, given the scheme’s overall cost. In 2023–24, the total cost of the PBS to the government was $17.7 billion. So a decision to list can’t be made lightly.
So should Australia change how it approves medicines?
Criticising the time it takes to get regulatory approvals appears to be part of a wider plan of attack by the US government. It is putting pressure on Australia to open its market to higher prices for medicines made by US pharmaceutical companies.
Australia has a world-class regulatory agency in the TGA which ensures medicines that are approved are both safe and effective. And the PBS scheme is a key part of our public health care system and the envy of the world.
The Australian government should resist any changes to the regulatory approval processes that come from the US.
Nial Wheate in the past has received funding from the ACT Cancer Council, Tenovus Scotland, Medical Research Scotland, Scottish Crucible, and the Scottish Universities Life Sciences Alliance. He is a fellow of the Royal Australian Chemical Institute. Nial is the chief scientific officer of Vaihea Skincare LLC, a director of SetDose Pty Ltd (a medical device company) and was previously a Standards Australia panel member for sunscreen agents. He is a member of the Haleon Australia Pty Ltd Pain Advisory Board. Nial regularly consults to industry on issues to do with medicine risk assessments, manufacturing, design and testing.
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has formally nominated United States President Donald Trump for the Nobel Peace Prize. He says the president is “forging peace as we speak, in one country, in one region after the other”.
Trump, who has craved the award for years, sees himself as a global peacemaker in a raft of conflicts from Israel and Iran, to Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo.
With the conflict in Gaza still raging, we ask five experts – could Trump be rewarded with the world’s most prestigious peace prize?
Emma Shortis
Adjunct Senior Fellow, School of Global, Urban and Social Studies, RMIT University
Nominating Trump for the Nobel Peace Prize is like entering a hyena in a dog show.
Of course Trump does not deserve it. That we’re being forced to take this question seriously is yet another indication – as if we needed one – of his extraordinary ability to set and reset the terms of our politics.
There is no peace in Gaza. Even if Trump announced another ceasefire tomorrow, it would not last. And it would not build genuine peace and security.
Trump has neither the interest nor the attention span required to build long term peace. His administration is not willing to bear any of the costs or investments that come with genuine, lasting diplomacy. And he is not anti-war.
There is no peace in Iran. Trump’s bombing of Iran simply exacerbates his decision in 2018 to end nuclear negotiations with Tehran. It pushes the world closer to, not further from, nuclear catastrophe.
Under the Trump administration, there will be no peace in the Middle East. Both the US and Israeli governments’ approach to “security” puts the region on a perpetual war footing. This approach assumes it is possible to bomb your way to peace – a “peace” which both Trump and Netanyahu understand as total dominance and violent oppression.
The Trump administration is deliberately undermining the institutions and principles of international and domestic law.
He has deployed the military against American citizens. He is threatening the United States’ traditional allies with trade wars and annexation. His administration’s dismantling of USAID will result, according to one study, in the deaths of 14 million people, including 4.5 million children, by 2030.
Indulging Trump’s embarrassing desire for trophies might appease him for a short time. It would also strip the Nobel Peace Prize of any and all credibility, while endorsing Trump’s trashing of the international rule of law.
What kind of peace is that?
Ali Mamouri
Research Fellow, Middle East Studies, Deakin University
The nomination of Donald Trump for the Nobel Peace Prize by a man who is facing charges of war crimes is an unprecedented and deeply dark irony that cannot be overlooked.
Trump’s role in brokering the Abraham Accords was hailed as a diplomatic breakthrough. It led to the normalisation of relations between Israel and several Arab countries, including the United Arab Emirates, Bahrain and Morocco.
But this achievement came at a significant cost. The accords deliberately sidelined the Palestinian issue, long recognised as the core of regional instability, and disregarded decades of international consensus on a two-state solution.
Israeli soldiers guarding Jewish settlements in the occupied West Bank. Dom Zaran/Shutterstock
His silence in the face of a growing humanitarian catastrophe in Gaza was equally telling. Perhaps most disturbing was the tacit or explicit endorsement of proposals to forcibly relocate Palestinians to neighbouring Arab countries, a position that evokes ethnic cleansing and fundamentally undermines principles of justice, dignity and international law.
In addition, there is Trump’s unconditional support for Israel’s military campaigns across the region, including his authorisation of attacks on Iranian civilian, military and nuclear infrastructure. The strikes lacked any clear legal basis, contributed further to regional instability and, according to Tehran, killed more than a thousand civilians.
His broader disregard for international norms shattered decades of post-second world war diplomatic order and increased the risk of sustained and expanded conflict.
Against this backdrop, any serious consideration of Trump for the Nobel Peace Prize seems fundamentally at odds with its stated mission: to honour efforts that reduce conflict, uphold human rights and promote lasting peace.
Whatever short-term diplomatic gains emerged from Trump’s tenure are eclipsed by the legal, ethical and humanitarian consequences of his actions.
Ian Parmeter
Research Scholar, Middle East Studies, Australian National University
Netanyahu’s nomination of Donald Trump for one of the world’s most coveted awards was clearly aimed at flattering the president.
Trump is clearly angling for the laurel, which his first term predecessor, Barack Obama, won in his first year in office.
Obama was awarded the prize in 2009 for promotion of nuclear non-proliferation and fostering a “new climate” in international relations, particularly in reaching out to the Muslim world.
Given neither of these ambitions have since borne fruit, what claims might Trump reasonably make at this stage of his second term?
Trump has claimed credit for resolving two conflicts this year: the brief India–Pakistan clash that erupted after Pakistani militants killed 25 Indian tourists in Kashmir in May; and the long-running dispute between Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of the Congo.
Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi disputes Trump brokered peace. He says the issue was resolved by negotiations between the two countries’ militaries.
With regards to the Rwanda–DRC conflict, the countries signed a peace agreement in the Oval Office in June. But critics argue Qatar played a significant role
which the Trump administration has airbrushed out.
Trump can legitimately argue his pressure on Israel and Iran forced a ceasefire in their 12-day war in June.
But his big test is the Gaza war. For Trump to add this to his Nobel claim, he will need more than a ceasefire.
The Biden administration brokered two ceasefires that enabled the release of significant numbers of hostages, but did not end the conflict.
Trump would have to use his undoubted influence with Netanyahu to achieve more than a temporary pause. He would have to end the war definitively and effect the release of all Israeli hostages.
Beyond that, if Trump could persuade Netanyahu
to take serious steps towards negotiating a two-state solution, that would be a genuine Nobel-worthy achievement.
Trump isn’t there yet.
Jasmine-Kim Westendorf
Associate Professor of Peace and Conflict and Co-Director of the Initiative for Peacebuilding, The University of Melbourne
Although controversial or politicised awards are not new, awardees are generally individuals or groups who’ve made
significant contributions to a range of peace initiatives.
They include reducing armed conflict, enhancing international cooperation, and human rights efforts that contribute to peace.
Inspiring examples include anti-nuclear proliferation organisations and phenomenal women peacemakers. And Nadia Murad and Denis Mukwege, who won in 2011 for their work trying to end the use of sexual violence as a weapon of war.
Trump has declared his “proudest legacy will be that of a peacemaker and unifier”. But he is neither.
There has been a concerning trend towards using the Nobel Peace Prize to encourage certain political directions, rather than reward achievements.
Barack Obama’s 2008 Prize helped motivate his moves toward diplomacy and cooperation after the presidency of George W. Bush.
Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed’s 2018 award was for efforts to resolve the 20-year war with Eritrea. The peace prize encouraged Ahmed to fulfill his promise of democratic elections in 2020. Embarrassingly, within a year Ahmed launched a civil war that killed over 600,000 people and displaced 3 million more.
This week’s nomination follows efforts by global leaders to flatter Trump in order – they hope – to secure his goodwill.
These motivations explain why Netanyahu has put forward Trump’s name to the Nobel Committee. It comes at the very moment securing Trump’s ongoing support during ceasefire negotiations is critical for Netanyahu’s political survival.
They will never give me a Nobel Peace Prize […] It’s too bad. I deserve it, but they will never give it to me.
Prizes to genuine peacemakers amplify their work and impact.
1984 winner Desmond Tutu said: “One day no one was listening. The next, I was an oracle.” A Nobel can be a powerful force for peace.
Trump is no peacemaker, he doesn’t deserve one.
Shahram Akbarzadeh
Director, Middle East Studies Forum (MESF), Deakin University
Benjamin Netanyahu would have us believe Donald Trump is a peacemaker.
Nothing could be further from the truth. His record is stained with blood and misery. The fact Trump believes himself to be worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize only attests to his illusions of grandeur in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
The war in Gaza has gone into its 20th month because Trump did not use the levers at his control to bring the senseless war to a close.
Some estimates put the true Gaza death toll at 100,000 people, and counting. They have been killed by American-made bombs Israel is dropping across the densely populated strip; from starvation because Israel has enforced a blockade of the Gaza Strip and prevented UN food delivery with the blessings of America; and from gunshots at food distribution centres, set up with US private security.
All under Trump’s watch.
Trump could do something about this. Israel is the largest recipient of US aid, most of it military support.
This has multiplied since Israel commenced its attack on Gaza in response to Hamas terrorism on October 7 2023. Trump has approved the transfer of US military hardware to Israel, knowing full well it was being used against a trapped and helpless population.
This is not the act of a peacemaker.
Now the Israeli government is planning to “facilitate” population transfer of Gazans to other countries – a euphemism for ethnic cleansing.
This is the textbook definition of genocide: deliberate and systematic killing or persecution of people. Trump legitimised this travesty of decency and international law by promising a Gaza Riviera.
The outlandish extent of Trump’s ideas would be laughable if their consequences were not so devastating.
When Israel attacked Iran in the middle of nuclear talks, Trump had a momentary pause, before jumping to Netanyahu’s aid and bombing Iran. He then claimed his action paved the way for peace.
Trump’s idea of peace is the peace of the graveyard.
Emma Shortis is Director of International and Security Affairs at The Australia Institute, an independent think tank.
Jasmine-Kim Westendorf has received funding from the Australian Research Council.
Shahram Akbarzadeh receives funding from Australia Research Council.
Ali Mamouri and Ian Parmeter do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
If you watched any of the 2025 Wimbledon womens’ matches, you’ll have noticed many players donning a skort: a garment in which shorts are concealed under a skirt, or a front panel resembling a skirt.
You may even remember skorts from your schooling days, as they’re commonly offered in girls’ uniforms throughout Australia.
The skort (a portmanteau of skirt and shorts) has played a truly unique role in the history of women’s clothing. They were once a progressive item of clothing, as they afforded women the opportunity to partake in activities that would have been difficult in a skirt or dress.
Their role in contemporary society, however, is a bit more complicated.
Rebellious beginnings
The first garments resembling skorts were developed in the 1890s so women could ride bicycles without their skirt getting caught in the chains. While the puffy “bloomers” had already been invented a few decades earlier, women who wore them often faced ridicule.
Skorts were considered revolutionary at a time when men both figuratively and literally wore the pants.
Back then, they were usually a pair of loose pants under a front panel resembling a skirt. The aim was to retain the wearer’s femininity, and not offend those who thought pants were a purely masculine article of clothing.
A drawing from an 1896 patent of a ‘cycling skirt’.
The skort as we know it today, and as is seen across the sporting world, was popularised in the 1960s by American fashion designer Leon Levin.
This skirt was said to offer “the freedom of shorts and soft lines of a skirt”. The underlying message: even as women participate in traditionally “masculine” activities, they should be careful not to look too masculine.
Sport management academic M. Katie Flanagan argues women may be convinced that exercising in a skort achieves an acceptable gender performance. In other words, they are socialised to think they have to “perform” their gender by wearing the “correct” clothing.
Skorts in sport and school
In the sporting world, skorts are deliberately designed to be trendy and attractive, rather than purely functional.
One study on women golfers found they were more satisfied with their uniforms if they were happy with both the comfort and attractiveness, indicating women’s sportswear isn’t just about fit and practicality.
Skorts have historically also had class associations. As recently as ten years ago, sport skorts were an expensive item reserved for those from the middle and upper classes. Women from lower economic classes also tended to not have the time and/or resources to engage in the activities skorts were designed for, namely tennis and golf.
More recently, however, discount stores have made skorts accessible to those on a budget.
School skorts, a topic of my ongoing research, are particularly affordable at discount stores. A generic discount store skort may cost about A$10, compared to A$20–40 for one purchased directly from a school.
Some schools offer skorts to girls as the equivalent of sports shorts or as part of the everyday uniform. Other schools seem to prefer culottes as an alternative to a dress or skirt – shorts that are loose enough to resemble a skirt.
Many schools still don’t offer shorts to girls as part of the everyday uniform. Whether or not girls are allowed to wear the “boys’” shorts comes down to the individual school.
From rebellion to restriction
One 2019 review of school uniform policies in South Australia found 98.6% of public schools included shorts as a uniform option for girls, compared to just 26.4% of private schools.
Researchers Sarah Cohen-Woods and Rachel Laattoe found girls in private schools were often restricted in their choices, having to choose between skorts and culottes as an alternative to a skirt or dress.
Across Australia, all state and territory education policies – most of which came into effect between 2017 and 2019 – mandate public schools must offer girls the option of wearing shorts and pants.
However, the wordings of these policies differ widely. While New South Wales, Victoria and Norther Territory specifically mention shorts and pants must be offered to girls, Queensland, Western Australia and Tasmania specify schools must offer unisex or gender neutral items to all students.
South Australia’s and Australian Capital Territory’s policies further state uniform items should be categorised by type of clothing, or in non-gender specific terms.
However, in some states, including New South Wales, schools are free to interpret the policy as they wish, which is why some only offer culottes or skorts to girls. There is generally no oversight or enforcement of policies to force schools to offer actual shorts to girls.
A similar debate is happening in women’s sports. Ireland’s Camogie Association only ended the compulsory skorts policy in May, after years of complaints by players. Dublin captain Aisling Maher said she was “sick of being forced to wear a skort that is uncomfortable and unfit for purpose”.
“In no other facet of my life does someone dictate that I have to wear something resembling a skirt because I am a girl. Why is it happening in my sport?” Maher said.
A camogie team pictured in Waterford, Ireland, 1915. The Irish stick-and-ball team sport is played by women. Wikimedia
A garment for the male gaze
In recent years, many stores have advertised skorts for fashion. Target, for instance, currently sells a tailored skort described as a “must have for any trendsetter looking to stand out in a crowd”.
There are conflicting arguments about whether skorts are progressive or regressive. On one hand, they allow women and girls to move freely during physical activities, without having to worry about their underwear being visible.
On the other, they set a precedent in regards to how women and girls ought to perform their gender, by avoiding looking too “masculine” – which makes them somewhat misogynistic.
The skort is an object of dual meanings: at once a skirt and a pair of shorts – at once progressive and regressive.
Jennifer E. Cheng does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
The government’s Special Envoy to Combat Antisemitism, Jillian Segal, has recommended universities that fail to properly deal with the issue should have government funding terminated.
In her Plan to Combat Antisemitism, launched Thursday, Segal says she will prepare a report card “assessing each university’s implementation of effective practices and standards”.
This would cover complaints systems and whether the campus and online environment “is conducive to Jewish students and staff participating actively and equally in university life”.
“Should significant problems remain at universities by the start of the 2026 academic year, as assessed by the Envoy’s report card, a dedicated judicial inquiry should be undertaken to address systemic issues,” the Envoy’s report says.
That should include “investigation of foreign sources of funding for antisemitic activities and academics at universities”.
“Universities must embrace cultural change to end their tolerance for anti-semitic conduct,” the Segal report says.
It says the envoy will work with government to enable funding “to be withheld, where possible, from universities, programs or individuals within universities that facilitate, enable or fail to act against antisemitism”.
The envoy also wants public grants to university centres, academics or researchers to be subject to termination if the recipient engages in antisemitic or other hateful speech or actions.
In the wake of the October 2023 Hamas attacks on Israelis, and Israel’s military response in Gaza, a number of Australian universities saw big pro-Palestinian protests, including encampments. At some universities Jewish students and staff felt unsafe going to classes or to their offices.
More generally, antisemitism has been rife since the October attacks, with most recently a spate of incidents in Melbourne in the last week. These included setting fire to the door of a synagogue and protesters rampaging through a restaurant that is part of an Israeli chain.
The envoy’s report was launched at a joint press conference attended by Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, Home Affairs Minister Tony Burke, and Segal.
The ambitious plan is broad, also covering security, law enforcement, and online regulation among other areas.
But it is unclear how much of it the government will take up.
Asked whether the government was committed to the plan “in full”, Albanese was noncommittal.
“We welcome the plan, to be very clear. Some of the plan requires a long-term approach, some of it requires action by state governments, some of it requires action by society.
“What we will do is work constructively with the envoy,” he said.
“This isn’t something that is okay on the 10th of July, done, tick, and we move on. This will be a process.”
The plan includes embedding Holocaust and antisemitism education in school curricula.
Research the envoy commissioned found a substantial difference between the attitudes of Australians under 35 and those older. These reflected differences between the generations in media consumption and perceptions younger people have of the Middle East the the Jewish community.
“There also appears to be generational differences in the understanding of the Holocaust and its impacts on society,” the report says.
The envoy flags her intention, with the support of government, to “review, and where appropriate strengthen federal, state and territory legislation addressing antisemitism and other hateful or intimidatory conduct”.
Among the recommendations is the removal of tax deduction status from any charitable institution which promotes speakers or engages in conduct that promotes antisemitism.
The report says that from October 2023 to September 2024 antisemitic incidents increased by 316%, with more than 2,000 cases reported. These included threats, assaults, vandalism and intimidation.
Michelle Grattan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
The Greens had a poor election. They lost three of their four lower house seats including that of their leader Adam Bandt. This despite their overall vote remaining mostly steady. But they did retain all their Senate spots – though later they lost a senator through her defection to Labor – and they now effectively have the sole balance of power in the Senate.
The Greens last term played hard ball on various pieces of legislation like the Housing Australia Future Fund (HAFF), wanting to gain more concessions from the government. They prioritised issues such as the difficulties facing renters as well as the war in Gaza.
With the government’s big win at the election, how hard will the Greens push on legislation this term, and how will the party fare under new leadership?
To answer these questions and to tell us about her plans, the greens new leader, Larissa Waters, joins the podcast.
On what drives her Waters says,
I’ve certainly spent my working life trying to empower the community, to protect the planet. And I’m a really proud feminist and I’ve been really excited by the work that I’ve been able to do on gender equality and women’s safety for the last 10 years in that portfolio. But I’m a really strong advocate for a fairer society.
On reforms she wants to get done in parliament, Waters says the focus should be on delivery,
I would like for the parliament to not just spend its time as a kind of peacocking about, talking about ourselves, and actually spend its time delivering for people. I think that’s the least people could expect is that the collective focus of the parliament be about how we can help community members and nature.
We remain willing to work on reforms that will help people and will help the planet. And I think there’s a lot of people who are waiting to see how this parliament works and who are really hoping that with such an overwhelming number of seats […] the Labor Party will use their numbers in the parliament to do good things. And I think there’ll be a lot of broken hearts if they don’t find the courage to do what’s needed.
Asked about the recent antisemitic attacks in Melbourne and the broader issue of pro-Palestine protests, Waters explains where she stands.
Well firstly, can I say that the places of worship should always be off-limits for protest activity and I think that’s not a controversial statement. But can I also say that a lot of people feel really strongly about human rights and Gaza and Palestine and the Greens are really proud that we have always stood to end the genocide. And we think that Australia should play a stronger role in terms of sanctioning [Benjamin Netanyahu’s] war cabinet and that regime and for there to be a lasting peace in that region.
On AUKUS and the US alliance more broadly Water’s isn’t shy with her criticism,
We are wasting A$370 billion on nuclear submarines that actually may never even eventuate and that the US is now reconsidering their provision to us anyway. The whole thing is speculative and a massive waste of money, importantly, that makes us less safe. I think hitching our wagon to the increasingly unstable US administration under particularly the current president, is not how we make ourselves safe. And I certainly don’t think we should be taking any lectures from Donald Trump about how much money we should spending on defence.
We remain of the view, as we have been for decades, that Australia deserves an independent foreign policy, one that shamelessly puts our own interests at heart and front and centre, and is not just when the US says jump we say how high, that doesn’t make the world safer.
Michelle Grattan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This follows the US company’s recreation of a “dire wolf”, which was essentially a genetically engineered grey wolf. But that project was probably easy compared to the latest plan to resurrect the moa.
I think it’s a pipe dream and there are several reasons why.
Firstly, birds are harder to “de-extinct” than placental mammals. One would need a surrogate egg to bring chicks to term, and for many moa species there are no eggs from living birds big enough to house a developing chick. In this case, artificial eggs would need to be developed.
Then there is evolutionary history. From my own work and the research of others, we know the moa is most closely related to the tinamou, a small flying bird in South America.
To get to the common ancestor of the moa and tinamou, you’d have to go back some 60 million years of evolution. That’s a lot of time for mutations to evolve in genes controlling how moa look, that would need to be re-engineered to bring back moa traits.
The evolutionary history of the palaeognath group is even deeper. Formerly known as ratites, this group includes the tinamou and lineages of living flightless birds (emu, kiwi, cassowary, rhea, ostrich) and extinct ones (New Zealand’s moa and Madagascar’s elephant birds).
Genetically engineering a tinamou or any other birds in this group to create a moa hybrid would be challenging given this deep evolutionary timescale – certainly much harder than genetically engineering a grey wolf. And in any case, this would not recreate a moa, but merely something that may look like a moa. As one critic put it, it would not have the mauri (life force) of a moa.
There are no living analogues of moa within the palaeongath group. We don’t know whether birds created through de-extinction methods would function like a moa in the ecosystem.
Moa are unique, even among other flightless birds, in that they had no wings – all other flightless birds still have remnant wings. As a start, any genetic engineering would need to target regions of the genome that control the expression of genes for wing formation. This could have unintended consequences.
Working with moa ethically
I’m involved in an ongoing project to sequence high-quality genomes of several species of moa in New Zealand to study their evolutionary history.
In our conversations with tangata whenua around the country, there has been no support for de-extinction. Iwi (tribes) also want moa bone samples and all DNA extracts and sequence data to stay in New Zealand.
A major question is whether Colossal has undertaken wider engagement. Ngāi Tahu is a very large iwi with lots of individual rūnanga (tribal councils) throughout the South Island.
My research team has engaged with individual rūnanga, and we know they are opposed to de-extinction. I would like Colossal, Canterbury Museum and the Ngāi Tahu Research Center to disclose how widely they consulted across Ngāi Tahu.
The numerous iwi at the top of the South Island are also against the de-extinction of the giant moa (or any moa) which also lived in their rohe (region). De-extinction of a giant moa would really need a South Island-wide or even national consensus before going ahead.
Ecological concerns with de-extinction
Māori have expressed longstanding concerns about not being involved in discussions about genetic engineering and the potential of bone samples or genetic material going offshore.
With this announcement, it’s encouraging to see the Ngāi Tahu Research Centre is driving the project and that there are discussions around the need to restore habitat that would be suitable for moa.
This is a challenge in its own right as there is little left. Parts of the eastern South Island were once covered in mosaics of open forest shrubland that were dominated by kowhai and lancewood, which have no analogue today.
Even if we were to bring back an extinct species and kept individuals in a game reserve, we would need to produce enough (at least 500) to avoid inbreeding and genetic drift (random loss or retention of genes in a population).
The birds would require sufficient funding for their ongoing conservation. This raises worries that money could be pulled from efforts to save living endangered species, pushing them closer to extinction.
It’s undeniable the genetic engineering technology Colossal is developing could have real benefits to the conservation of New Zealand’s endangered species. Let’s say we could genetically engineer a kākāpō so it becomes resistant to a disease. That’s perhaps a project worth doing if there was widespread community support.
Investing the money that goes into this project in the conservation of New Zealand’s currently endangered biodiversity would, in my view, be better than bringing back moa as an ecotourism venture.
Nic Rawlence receives funding from Te Apārangi Royal Society of New Zealand Marsden Fund.
Last week, Australian airline Qantas announced cyber attackers had accessed personal data about some of its customers. The company later confirmed that 5.7 million customer records were involved.
The attackers targeted an offshore IT call centre, which enabled them to gain access to a third-party system.
The airline contacted affected customers shortly after the announcement, and sent a follow-up email a week later. The email apologised to customers and informed them attackers had accessed information about customers’ names as well as frequent flyer numbers and tier status.
The email may have felt familiar to Australians impacted by the 2022 Optus Breach or the 2024 Medisecure Hack — a routine apology, an assurance that immediate steps have been taken, and a statement that the company takes seriously the trust placed in it to safeguard personal information.
It’s an adequate response. But it ignores something that might genuinely make customer data safer in the future: stronger cybersecurity laws to prevent these kinds of breaches from happening in the first place.
How should we respond to data breaches?
If your data were involved in the Qantas breach, you might be wondering what to do about it.
The first sensible step might be to find out what personal information was compromised. Next, you might research the potential harm that could come from your name, Qantas Frequent Flyer number, and tier status being accessed.
You may learn about the risks of identity theft, account hijacking, and scams.
After that, you might want to figure out what actions you could take to protect yourself – that is, how to best secure your data. Plenty of websites offer advice along these lines.
If you are a Qantas customer, and received the follow-up email, you may have noticed a section titled “What steps can I take to protect myself?”. This part encourages users to stay alert, use two-factor authentication, stay informed about the latest threats, visit IDCARE’s Learning Centre, and never share passwords or sensitive information (stating that Qantas will never ask for them).
While these are helpful suggestions, they place a significant burden on the customer. They also imply that if our data becomes compromised, we may be partially to blame for not doing more to protect ourselves.
Is this fair or useful? Rather than just trying to protect ourselves after data breaches, we might be better off focusing our attention on why breaches occur and the legislators who make the rules for the companies that hold our data.
Does the law have an unhealthy obsession with data breaches?
It may seem that, to improve cybersecurity laws, we need to pay more attention to Qantas-like data breaches and impose bigger fines on companies when they occur. However, this is not necessarily the best solution.
As US privacy scholars Daniel Solove and Woodrow Hartzog point out in their 2022 book Breached!: “Data privacy law has an obsession with data breaches.”
Ironically, the authors claim, “this obsession has […] been the primary reason why the law has failed to stop the deluge of data breaches. The more obsessed with breaches the law has become, the more the law has failed to deal with them.”
Solove and Hartzog argue that focusing solely on the breaches themselves prevents us from concentrating on prevention.
make recommendations to government and industry about actions that could be taken to prevent, detect, respond to or minimise the impact of, cyber security incidents of a similar nature in the future.
These reforms are an important step in addressing prevention, and the Cyber Incident Review Board will undoubtedly draw many lessons from the Qantas case when it performs its post-incident review – such as identifying potential weaknesses at the offshore IT call centre.
However, we shouldn’t have to wait until an incident occurs to start thinking about how to protect against breaches. There are also concerns about whether the recommendations it offers will be put into law.
Ideally, we need legislation that focuses on prevention, not just post-incident responses. If we had laws that required companies to conduct audits, provide legally binding safety checks applicable to all relevant stakeholders, and impose penalties for non-compliance with these standards, it would genuinely improve prevention.
Revising our flight path
Our response to the Qantas breach will no doubt follow a familiar pattern: first, we panic! Then we get angry at the company. Next, we attempt to follow privacy advice – at least for a short while – changing a password or two before becoming complacent and then lowering our privacy vigilance. And then the cycle repeats the next time a breach occurs.
We don’t need to accept this eternal pattern, however. If we focus our attention on lawmakers, rather than these immediate responses we are all too familiar with, prevention becomes a possibility.
Adam Andreotta does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Jongkil Jay Jeong, Senior Fellow, School of Computing and Information System, The University of Melbourne
It starts with a call from someone claiming to be your bank. They know your name. They know your bank. They even know your credit card number. There’s been “unusual activity” on your account, they say – and they just sent you a one-time passcode to verify your identity so they can assist.
You read out the code and feel reassured. Moments later, your funds are gone and the bank refuses reimbursement, citing a breach of terms because you voluntarily shared your passcode.
This is not a niche or isolated scam. It’s part of a growing pattern we’re seeing across Australia and beyond: cyber criminals are merging digital and real-world tactics in ways that make these frauds more convincing, harder to stop, and far more damaging.
It starts with stolen data
These scams don’t begin with a phishing email or fake app. They begin with data – your data – stolen in one of countless breaches, such as the latest Qantas incident that exposed the details of up to 5.7 million customers.
Sometimes the personal data has been sold through third-party data brokers. Names, phone numbers, emails, even card details are routinely leaked and traded online.
Once they have this information, scammers get to work. The phone call mimics a real interaction with a bank, perhaps with a spoofed caller ID. Victims are pressured in urgent language to “verify” their identity, often by reading out a one-time passcode that, unbeknownst to them, is authorising a transaction using their own card details.
We refer to this as a “convergence scam” – where online data leaks, psychological manipulation and weak enforcement come together. It’s a sophisticated hybrid of digital theft and physical-world exploitation, and it’s on the rise.
Devastating and personal
These scams are deeply personal and can be financially devastating. But what makes them even more alarming is the system-wide failure surrounding them.
For starters, many credit card fraud insurance policies contain clauses that exclude coverage when the customer “voluntarily” provides account credentials – including one-time passcodes – even if they did so under duress or deception.
One victim we spoke to lost nearly A$6,000 after a scammer posing as their bank prompted them to read out a passcode over the phone. The transaction was verified using that code, and the bank later refused to reimburse the loss.
In a formal response, the bank stated that by voluntarily sharing the one-time passcode, the customer had breached the epayments code, even though they were manipulated into doing so. As a result, the customer was held liable and ineligible for a chargeback.
Law enforcement may not help
Even when the criminals leave a physical trail, follow-up is rare. Law enforcement rarely investigates. In the cases we’ve seen, reports are acknowledged but not pursued. Officers don’t explicitly say the case is too small or not worth the effort, but their inaction suggests it, especially given how resource-intensive most cyber-crime investigations tend to be.
In many instances, particularly when the total loss isn’t deemed significant, victims are simply told to follow up with their bank, based on the assumption they’ll be reimbursed.
In one case we reviewed, stolen card details were used in-store at major Australian retailers such as Woolworths and Coles – indicating that a cloned card had been physically used. These purchases could, in theory, be tracked back to in-store CCTV footage. But no investigation was launched.
This reluctance to act, even when the evidence is tangible, sends a dangerous message: that scammers can operate with near-impunity.
Meanwhile, banks and regulators are slow to update verification systems. One-time passcodes are still widely used, even though scammers now exploit them routinely. There’s little recourse for victims, and minimal accountability for data brokers whose records fuel these scams.
What can we do to protect ourselves?
For individuals, the first line of defence is simple but vital:
never share a one-time passcode or security code over the phone, even if the caller seems legitimate
if in doubt, hang up and call the bank directly using the number on your card
be cautious about where and how you share your personal information, especially online through websites or social media. Only disclose what personally identifiable information you have to.
The true answer is systemic change
Banks and other institutions need to put into place stronger identity verification systems that don’t rely solely on SMS codes. We need greater transparency and regulation of data brokers.
Crucially, we also need active enforcement of cyber-enabled fraud, especially when there’s physical evidence, such as in-store purchases and CCTV footage.
Banks should also reassess their policies and procedures on how they communicate with customers. If scam calls closely mimic real ones, it’s time to change the script. More proactive education, clearer warnings, and redesigned verification processes can all help prevent harm.
The real danger of these convergence scams isn’t just financial loss. It’s the erosion of trust: in our banks, in our security systems, and in the institutions meant to protect us.
Once that trust is gone, it’s not easily recovered.
Jongkil Jay Jeong has received prior research funding from the Australian Government’s Department of Industry, Science and Resources (DSRI) and the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade (DFAT).
Ashish Nanda has received funding from the Australian Government through various research grants, including the Cyber Security CRC and Australia’s Economic Accelerator.
Peter Thomas does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Corey J. A. Bradshaw, Matthew Flinders Professor of Global Ecology and Node Leader in the ARC Centre of Excellence for Indigenous and Environmental Histories and Futures, Flinders University
Sebnem Coskun/Anadolu via Getty Images
Almost two-thirds of the world’s population is affected by the monsoon – the annual arrival of intense rains in areas north and south of the Equator. These drenching rains tend to arrive during each hemisphere’s summer.
The East Asian monsoon north of the equator is the best known and best studied, because it affects the largest land area and the most people. But the southern Indo-Australian monsoon is vitally important to northern Australia, Indonesia and Papua New Guinea. To date, it has been studied much less.
To help fill this gap in knowledge, we analysed deep sediment from an unusual lagoon near Darwin in northern Australia. We looked at ancient pollen and chemical isotopes (different versions of the same chemical element) to look about 150,000 years back in time and glimpse changes to the monsoon. When types of pollen change, it tells us the monsoon has changed. Drier conditions favour the emergence of grasslands, while wetter climates favour forests.
Our new research suggests as the world gets hotter, the Indo-Australian monsoon will intensify and northern Australia will get wetter. This finding is consistent with research suggesting the East Asian monsoon could weaken, threatening agriculture and nature in heavily populated countries.
Location of Girraween Lagoon in monsoonal north Australia. Insert shows approximate dominant flows of the East Asian and Indo-Australian summer monsoons. Corey Bradshaw/Flinders University, CC BY-NC
The past held in a single lagoon
To examine how monsoons change over time, researchers drill sediment cores to track changes in pollen and chemical isotopes. For example, changes in hydrogen isotopes indicate changes in the intensity of the monsoon rain.
The problem is, these cores have to come from long-undisturbed lake sediments, because such places provide a continuous record of change.
To reconstruct past changes in monsoon patterns, undisturbed sediments have to be sampled carefully by extracting a thin “core” from the bottom sediments. Once researchers have this precious core, they can examine the changing proportions of pollen, chemical isotopes and other properties. The deeper you drill the core, the farther back in time you can look.
These exacting requirements are one reason the Indo-Australian monsoon is not as well understood as its northern cousin.
Fortunately, we have found one place which has kept a detailed environmental record over a long period: Girraween Lagoon on the outskirts of Darwin in the Northern Territory.
This lagoon was created after a sinkhole formed more than 200,000 years ago. It has contained permanent water ever since, and is slowly filling with sediment and pollen blown in from the surrounding landscape.
The 18-metre core from Girraween’s sediments gave us a 150,000-year record of environmental change in Australia’s northern savannahs.
It took hard work to extract the core from Girraween Lagoon.
Dipping into the past
If you walk around Girraween Lagoon today, you’ll see a tall and dense tree canopy with a thick grass understory in the wet season. But it hasn’t always been that way.
During the last ice age 20,000–30,000 years ago, the sea level was much lower and the polar ice caps much larger. As a result, the lagoon was more than 300 kilometres from the coast. At that time, the lagoon was surrounded by an open, grassy savannah with fewer, shorter trees.
A schematic showing the depth of the Girraween core and the associated time periods. Emma Rehn/Centre of Excellence for Australian Biodiversity and Heritage, CC BY-NC
About 115,000 years ago (and again 90,000 years ago), Australia was dotted with gigantic inland “megalakes”. At those times, the lagoon expanded into a large, shallow lake surrounded by lush monsoon forest, with almost no grass.
At times, tree cover changed radically. In fact, over one 3,000-year period, the percentage of tree pollen soared from 15% to 95%. That suggests a sweeping change from grassland to dense forest – meaning a switch from drier to wetter climate at a rate too fast to be explained by changes in Earth’s orbit.
Some of these changes are linked to the shifting distance between coastline and lagoon as well as predictable variation in how much solar energy reaches Earth.
A connection to the North Atlantic
Huge ice sheets covered large areas of the Northern Hemisphere during previous ice ages.
Remarkably, the evidence of their melting at the end of previous ice age was there in the sediment core from Girraween Lagoon.
When glacial ice melts rapidly, huge volumes of fresh water flood into the North Atlantic. These rapid pulses are known as Heinrich events. These pulses can shut down the warm Gulf Stream current up the east coast of North America. As a result, the Northern Hemisphere cools and the Southern Hemisphere warms.
Over the last 150,000 years, there have been 14 of these events. We could see evidence of them in the sediment cores. Every gush of fresh water in the Atlantic triggered higher rainfall over northern Australia because of the buildup of heat in the Southern Hemisphere as the Gulf Stream slowed.
What does this mean for the monsoon?
All this suggests the Indo-Australian monsoon will get more intense as the world gets hotter and more ice melts.
That would mean a wetter northern Australia. It could also bring more rainfall to other Australian regions, and neighbouring countries. At this stage, it’s too uncertain to predict what an intensifying monsoon would do to the southern parts of Australia.
We might already be seeing this shift. Weather records since the 1960s show northern Australia getting steadily wetter, and less rain in Australia’s southeast and southwest.
Trends in total annual rainfall in Australia from 1960 to 2020. Commonwealth of Australia Bureau of Meteorology, CC BY
What would this mean for people? Australia’s tropical north is not densely populated, which would reduce the human impact of an intensifying monsoon.
But while our research suggests the Indo-Australian monsoon strengthens during Heinrich events, earlier research has shown the East Asian and other Northern Hemisphere monsoons will weaken. Without reliable monsoonal rains, food and water supplies for billions of people could be at risk.
Corey J. A. Bradshaw receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
Cassandra Rowe receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
Michael Bird receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Corey J. A. Bradshaw, Matthew Flinders Professor of Global Ecology and Node Leader in the ARC Centre of Excellence for Indigenous and Environmental Histories and Futures, Flinders University
Sebnem Coskun/Anadolu via Getty Images
Almost two-thirds of the world’s population is affected by the monsoon – the annual arrival of intense rains in areas north and south of the Equator. These drenching rains tend to arrive during each hemisphere’s summer.
The East Asian monsoon north of the equator is the best known and best studied, because it affects the largest land area and the most people. But the southern Indo-Australian monsoon is vitally important to northern Australia, Indonesia and Papua New Guinea. To date, it has been studied much less.
To help fill this gap in knowledge, we analysed deep sediment from an unusual lagoon near Darwin in northern Australia. We looked at ancient pollen and chemical isotopes (different versions of the same chemical element) to look about 150,000 years back in time and glimpse changes to the monsoon. When types of pollen change, it tells us the monsoon has changed. Drier conditions favour the emergence of grasslands, while wetter climates favour forests.
Our new research suggests as the world gets hotter, the Indo-Australian monsoon will intensify and northern Australia will get wetter. This finding is consistent with research suggesting the East Asian monsoon could weaken, threatening agriculture and nature in heavily populated countries.
Location of Girraween Lagoon in monsoonal north Australia. Insert shows approximate dominant flows of the East Asian and Indo-Australian summer monsoons. Corey Bradshaw/Flinders University, CC BY-NC
The past held in a single lagoon
To examine how monsoons change over time, researchers drill sediment cores to track changes in pollen and chemical isotopes. For example, changes in hydrogen isotopes indicate changes in the intensity of the monsoon rain.
The problem is, these cores have to come from long-undisturbed lake sediments, because such places provide a continuous record of change.
To reconstruct past changes in monsoon patterns, undisturbed sediments have to be sampled carefully by extracting a thin “core” from the bottom sediments. Once researchers have this precious core, they can examine the changing proportions of pollen, chemical isotopes and other properties. The deeper you drill the core, the farther back in time you can look.
These exacting requirements are one reason the Indo-Australian monsoon is not as well understood as its northern cousin.
Fortunately, we have found one place which has kept a detailed environmental record over a long period: Girraween Lagoon on the outskirts of Darwin in the Northern Territory.
This lagoon was created after a sinkhole formed more than 200,000 years ago. It has contained permanent water ever since, and is slowly filling with sediment and pollen blown in from the surrounding landscape.
The 18-metre core from Girraween’s sediments gave us a 150,000-year record of environmental change in Australia’s northern savannahs.
It took hard work to extract the core from Girraween Lagoon.
Dipping into the past
If you walk around Girraween Lagoon today, you’ll see a tall and dense tree canopy with a thick grass understory in the wet season. But it hasn’t always been that way.
During the last ice age 20,000–30,000 years ago, the sea level was much lower and the polar ice caps much larger. As a result, the lagoon was more than 300 kilometres from the coast. At that time, the lagoon was surrounded by an open, grassy savannah with fewer, shorter trees.
A schematic showing the depth of the Girraween core and the associated time periods. Emma Rehn/Centre of Excellence for Australian Biodiversity and Heritage, CC BY-NC
About 115,000 years ago (and again 90,000 years ago), Australia was dotted with gigantic inland “megalakes”. At those times, the lagoon expanded into a large, shallow lake surrounded by lush monsoon forest, with almost no grass.
At times, tree cover changed radically. In fact, over one 3,000-year period, the percentage of tree pollen soared from 15% to 95%. That suggests a sweeping change from grassland to dense forest – meaning a switch from drier to wetter climate at a rate too fast to be explained by changes in Earth’s orbit.
Some of these changes are linked to the shifting distance between coastline and lagoon as well as predictable variation in how much solar energy reaches Earth.
A connection to the North Atlantic
Huge ice sheets covered large areas of the Northern Hemisphere during previous ice ages.
Remarkably, the evidence of their melting at the end of previous ice age was there in the sediment core from Girraween Lagoon.
When glacial ice melts rapidly, huge volumes of fresh water flood into the North Atlantic. These rapid pulses are known as Heinrich events. These pulses can shut down the warm Gulf Stream current up the east coast of North America. As a result, the Northern Hemisphere cools and the Southern Hemisphere warms.
Over the last 150,000 years, there have been 14 of these events. We could see evidence of them in the sediment cores. Every gush of fresh water in the Atlantic triggered higher rainfall over northern Australia because of the buildup of heat in the Southern Hemisphere as the Gulf Stream slowed.
What does this mean for the monsoon?
All this suggests the Indo-Australian monsoon will get more intense as the world gets hotter and more ice melts.
That would mean a wetter northern Australia. It could also bring more rainfall to other Australian regions, and neighbouring countries. At this stage, it’s too uncertain to predict what an intensifying monsoon would do to the southern parts of Australia.
We might already be seeing this shift. Weather records since the 1960s show northern Australia getting steadily wetter, and less rain in Australia’s southeast and southwest.
Trends in total annual rainfall in Australia from 1960 to 2020. Commonwealth of Australia Bureau of Meteorology, CC BY
What would this mean for people? Australia’s tropical north is not densely populated, which would reduce the human impact of an intensifying monsoon.
But while our research suggests the Indo-Australian monsoon strengthens during Heinrich events, earlier research has shown the East Asian and other Northern Hemisphere monsoons will weaken. Without reliable monsoonal rains, food and water supplies for billions of people could be at risk.
Corey J. A. Bradshaw receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
Cassandra Rowe receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
Michael Bird receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
Are you escaping a southern hemisphere winter by heading off for a “Euro summer”? Maybe you’re planning a cruise through the Mediterranean. Or you’re dreaming of a white Christmas overseas later in the year.
Maybe you’ve already booked your flights and accommodation, locked in your itinerary, and started planning what to pack.
But there may be one more thing to add to your pre-travel checklist – a flu shot.
For some travellers, this may mean a second flu shot this year – one for Australia’s flu season and another to protect them in the northern hemisphere.
Why do I need another flu shot?
Protection from a flu shot doesn’t last all year; it decreases after three to four months.
So if you had your flu shot in April or May, it may no longer offer enough protection by the time you travel in July or later.
Getting a second shot will provide you with optimal protection against the flu while travelling to the northern hemisphere.
That’s why it is now recommended Australians travelling to the northern hemisphere between October and May consider a second flu shot if they’ve already had one earlier this year.
If it’s been three to four months since your first shot, you can consider a second shot.
A second shot should be at least four weeks after the first shot. Ideally, get your second shot at least two weeks before your departure, so your body has time to build up protection.
If you haven’t had a flu shot at all this year, now’s the time. In the year to July 7, there have been more than 167,000 confirmed cases of the flu in Australia.
Who should consider a second flu shot?
Here are some examples where a second flu shot is worth discussing with your doctor or pharmacist.
Cruises are a prime setting for flu outbreaks. There are hundreds or thousands of people sharing confined spaces, such as restaurants and entertainment facilities, for days or weeks at a time. This creates the perfect environment for the flu virus to spread.
Group tours and large events are also high risk. Bus tours, music festivals and cultural events bring together large crowds, often in indoor spaces or via shared transport. This increases your chance of exposure and catching the virus.
Pilgrimages and religious gatherings such as Hajj, Lunar New Year or Ramadan are also high risk, especially for older travellers or those with health conditions. These events can attract millions of international visitors, often in crowded, shared accommodation, where flu and other respiratory viruses can spread rapidly.
People who are over 65 years of age, have medical conditions, such as severe asthma or diabetes, or are on medications that decrease their immune function, are more likely to become severely ill if they catch the flu. So, if you’re travelling during the northern hemisphere’s flu season, a second shot should be strongly considered.
Which flu shot should I get?
Each year, health authorities around the world develop two different flu shots, one for each hemisphere’s flu season. The flu shots can differ, as flu strains change rapidly and different strains may circulate in different regions.
Australians receive the southern hemisphere version around March to May. And
while it’s ideal to have the northern hemisphere flu shot before heading overseas, it’s not available in Australia.
Instead, you can have two shots of the southern hemisphere flu shot – one earlier in the year and a second shot before your trip.
You could wait until you are overseas to get your second shot. But you wouldn’t be protected for two weeks afterwards, and you’d need to navigate an overseas health system while on holiday.
Where can I get a flu shot? How much does it cost?
You can get a flu shot at your local pharmacy, GP clinic, or sometimes via your workplace. Many pharmacies offer walk-in appointments, and the flu shot usually costs around A$25 (including the price of the vaccine and administering it).
If your GP doesn’t bulk bill, you will be charged an out-of-pocket cost for the consultation, and may need to pay the cost of the shot if you don’t qualify for a free one.
The (first) flu shot is free for people who meet certain criteria, such as being 65 and over, pregnant, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people and those with certain medical conditions. But you would have to pay for a second shot if you’re travelling.
Specific flu shots are recommended for each person. So speak to your pharmacist or GP to discuss the best option for you.
Your GP or pharmacist will also discuss what to expect after your flu shot. This may include tiredness, fever, muscle aches, and redness or swelling at the injection site. These usually go away within two days. For most people, these symptoms are mild and well-tolerated.
Why bother?
The flu is more than just a sniffle. It can lead to serious illness, cancelled plans and perhaps a hospital stay in a foreign country. Even if you don’t get sick, you could pass the virus to others more vulnerable than yourself.
So before you finish your pre-travel checklist, make sure your flu shots are up to date.
Not getting the shot could be the difference between sipping Aperol spritz on the Amalfi Coast or spending your trip in bed with a fever.
Jack Janetzki works for the University of South Australia, Pharmaceutical Defence Limited and The Barossa Pharmacist in the Mall (Nuriootpa, South Australia). He is a member of Pharmaceutical Defence Limited, the Australasian Pharmaceutical Science Association, the Pharmaceutical Society of Australia, the South Australian Immunisation Program Advisory Group, the Observational Health Data Science Informatics network and the International Pharmaceutical Federation (FIP) Insight Board for pharmacist-led vaccination services.
Wern Chai is employed as a lecturer at the University of South Australia. He is an SME for the Australian Pharmacy Council, a board examiner for the Pharmacy Board of Australia, the Australasian Pharmaceutical Science Association, Pharmaceutical Society of Australia, the South Australian Immunisation Program Advisory Group and the International Pharmaceutical Federation (FIP) Insight Board for pharmacist-led vaccination services.
You might have heard cannabis and cannabinoid products can help people sleep. Data shows one of the top reasons people use cannabis is to help them sleep.
But there’s a dearth of high-quality research on how medicinal cannabis products actually affect sleep.
To find out more, our research team conducted a small pilot study involving 20 people. We wanted to compare how they slept after using a medicinal cannabis product, compared to a placebo.
We found a single oral dose of a cannabinoid product decreased total sleep time and the time spent in REM sleep (rapid eye movement, which is when we tend to dream). We didn’t observe any change in objective alertness the day after the treatment.
Our study is small and only measured the effect of a single dose, so more research is clearly needed.
But overall, our findings suggest cannabinoids may acutely influence sleep, primarily by suppressing REM sleep, without noticeable next-day impairment.
What we did
All 20 people (16 of whom were female) involved in our study had a clinical diagnosis of insomnia disorder.
This means they reported having challenges falling asleep and/or maintaining sleep and that these disturbances impact day-to-day functioning socially, at work, or in other important areas of life.
The average age of our study participants was about 46 years.
At our lab, the study participants were interviewed by a doctor and had their medical history taken. All participants also underwent an overnight diagnostic sleep study. This was done to confirm their sleeplessness was truly insomnia and not other conditions such as sleep apnoea.
Once the participant was able to start the study, they were asked to sleep for two nights at our lab, with at least one week between those two visits.
On one of their visits, they were given a placebo.
On the other, they were given a single oral dose of a medical-grade cannabis oil containing 10 mg THC (tetrahydrocannabinol, the compound responsible for the psychoactive effects of cannabis) and 200 mg CBD (cannabidiol, which does not produce a “high”).
Using a product with a precise, known dose ensures the results are relevant to what doctors in Australia are already prescribing.
The order in which participants received either the treatment or the placebo was randomised, so they didn’t know which one they were taking.
After taking either the treatment or the placebo, they slept at our lab while wearing a special cap with 256 monitors on it. This high-density electroencephalogram or EEG allowed us to record the electrical activity of the brain while the person slept.
The next morning, after they either woke or were woken, they performed a driving simulation test around the time of their normal morning commute.
They also underwent a test that assessed their ability to stay awake in a quiet, dimly lit environment. To track their alertness throughout the day, they repeated this test four times while wearing the high-density EEG cap. This was so we could test their alertness the day after either the treatment or the placebo.
What we found
Our results were not what we expected.
We found the THC/CBD treatment decreased total sleep time by an average of 24.5 minutes. This was largely driven by a significant impact on REM sleep (the phase associated with dreaming), which not only decreased by an average of 33.9 minutes but also took significantly longer for participants to enter. The treatment also offered no benefit in helping participants stay asleep throughout the night.
Perhaps most intriguingly, this objective worsening of sleep wasn’t reflected in the participants’ own perceptions; they reported no change in their subjective sleep quality. This disconnect continued into the next day.
While participants noted feeling slightly more sleepy after the treatment, their objective alertness – measured by their ability to stay awake in a quiet, dimly lit room – was reassuringly unchanged, as was their cognitive and simulated driving performance.
This leads to a crucial question: if a single dose produces these changes, what are the cumulative effects on a person’s sleep after weeks, months, or years of nightly use?
We simply don’t have the answers yet, especially with a medical-grade cannabis product.
A growing body of research
Our findings underscore a significant gap between the widespread public perception of cannabis for sleep and the complex scientific reality. As highlighted by a review we published in the journal Current Psychiatry Reports, the evidence base remains thin.
We reviewed 21 recent studies (published between 2021 and 2024) of cannabinoids being used for insomnia, subjective sleep impairment, obstructive sleep apnoea, rapid eye movement sleep behaviour disorder, and restless legs syndrome.
We found that, despite its widespread use, there’s not enough research yet to support the use of medical cannabis to treat sleep disorders.
This is why this kind of research is so vital. It provides the first pieces of a much larger puzzle.
To give doctors and patients the clear guidance they need, there is an urgent need for adequately funded, well-designed clinical trials with larger sample sizes and longer treatment durations to truly understand the long-term impacts of medicinal cannabis on sleep and daytime functioning.
Camilla Hoyos is a Research Leader within the Centre for Sleep and Chronobiology at the Woolcock Institute of Medical Research. The Woolcock sleep group received funding from Lambert Initiative of Cannabinoid Therapeutics (a philanthropic centre based at The University of Sydney) for this study and for another unpublished trial in the same space. Woolcock sleep group also received funding to be a site on an industry-sponsored clinical trial on a cannabinoids medicine in insomnia. Camilla Hoyos is also a board member of the Australasian Sleep Association. This study described in this article was a collaboration between the Woolcock Institute of Medical Research and Lambert Initiative of Cannabinoid Research.
Anastasia has previously received funding from the Lambert Initiative for Cannabinoid Therapeutics, a philanthropically funded research initiative at the Brain and Mind Centre, University of Sydney. She has received consulting fees from the Medicinal Cannabis Industry Australia for a commissioned review article and Haleon (a consumer health-care subsidiary of GSK) for non-cannabinoid related work. She is a committee member for the Sleep Health Week Working Party and an expert speaker for the Sleep Health Foundation.
You might have heard cannabis and cannabinoid products can help people sleep. Data shows one of the top reasons people use cannabis is to help them sleep.
But there’s a dearth of high-quality research on how medicinal cannabis products actually affect sleep.
To find out more, our research team conducted a small pilot study involving 20 people. We wanted to compare how they slept after using a medicinal cannabis product, compared to a placebo.
We found a single oral dose of a cannabinoid product decreased total sleep time and the time spent in REM sleep (rapid eye movement, which is when we tend to dream). We didn’t observe any change in objective alertness the day after the treatment.
Our study is small and only measured the effect of a single dose, so more research is clearly needed.
But overall, our findings suggest cannabinoids may acutely influence sleep, primarily by suppressing REM sleep, without noticeable next-day impairment.
What we did
All 20 people (16 of whom were female) involved in our study had a clinical diagnosis of insomnia disorder.
This means they reported having challenges falling asleep and/or maintaining sleep and that these disturbances impact day-to-day functioning socially, at work, or in other important areas of life.
The average age of our study participants was about 46 years.
At our lab, the study participants were interviewed by a doctor and had their medical history taken. All participants also underwent an overnight diagnostic sleep study. This was done to confirm their sleeplessness was truly insomnia and not other conditions such as sleep apnoea.
Once the participant was able to start the study, they were asked to sleep for two nights at our lab, with at least one week between those two visits.
On one of their visits, they were given a placebo.
On the other, they were given a single oral dose of a medical-grade cannabis oil containing 10 mg THC (tetrahydrocannabinol, the compound responsible for the psychoactive effects of cannabis) and 200 mg CBD (cannabidiol, which does not produce a “high”).
Using a product with a precise, known dose ensures the results are relevant to what doctors in Australia are already prescribing.
The order in which participants received either the treatment or the placebo was randomised, so they didn’t know which one they were taking.
After taking either the treatment or the placebo, they slept at our lab while wearing a special cap with 256 monitors on it. This high-density electroencephalogram or EEG allowed us to record the electrical activity of the brain while the person slept.
The next morning, after they either woke or were woken, they performed a driving simulation test around the time of their normal morning commute.
They also underwent a test that assessed their ability to stay awake in a quiet, dimly lit environment. To track their alertness throughout the day, they repeated this test four times while wearing the high-density EEG cap. This was so we could test their alertness the day after either the treatment or the placebo.
What we found
Our results were not what we expected.
We found the THC/CBD treatment decreased total sleep time by an average of 24.5 minutes. This was largely driven by a significant impact on REM sleep (the phase associated with dreaming), which not only decreased by an average of 33.9 minutes but also took significantly longer for participants to enter. The treatment also offered no benefit in helping participants stay asleep throughout the night.
Perhaps most intriguingly, this objective worsening of sleep wasn’t reflected in the participants’ own perceptions; they reported no change in their subjective sleep quality. This disconnect continued into the next day.
While participants noted feeling slightly more sleepy after the treatment, their objective alertness – measured by their ability to stay awake in a quiet, dimly lit room – was reassuringly unchanged, as was their cognitive and simulated driving performance.
This leads to a crucial question: if a single dose produces these changes, what are the cumulative effects on a person’s sleep after weeks, months, or years of nightly use?
We simply don’t have the answers yet, especially with a medical-grade cannabis product.
A growing body of research
Our findings underscore a significant gap between the widespread public perception of cannabis for sleep and the complex scientific reality. As highlighted by a review we published in the journal Current Psychiatry Reports, the evidence base remains thin.
We reviewed 21 recent studies (published between 2021 and 2024) of cannabinoids being used for insomnia, subjective sleep impairment, obstructive sleep apnoea, rapid eye movement sleep behaviour disorder, and restless legs syndrome.
We found that, despite its widespread use, there’s not enough research yet to support the use of medical cannabis to treat sleep disorders.
This is why this kind of research is so vital. It provides the first pieces of a much larger puzzle.
To give doctors and patients the clear guidance they need, there is an urgent need for adequately funded, well-designed clinical trials with larger sample sizes and longer treatment durations to truly understand the long-term impacts of medicinal cannabis on sleep and daytime functioning.
Camilla Hoyos is a Research Leader within the Centre for Sleep and Chronobiology at the Woolcock Institute of Medical Research. The Woolcock sleep group received funding from Lambert Initiative of Cannabinoid Therapeutics (a philanthropic centre based at The University of Sydney) for this study and for another unpublished trial in the same space. Woolcock sleep group also received funding to be a site on an industry-sponsored clinical trial on a cannabinoids medicine in insomnia. Camilla Hoyos is also a board member of the Australasian Sleep Association. This study described in this article was a collaboration between the Woolcock Institute of Medical Research and Lambert Initiative of Cannabinoid Research.
Anastasia has previously received funding from the Lambert Initiative for Cannabinoid Therapeutics, a philanthropically funded research initiative at the Brain and Mind Centre, University of Sydney. She has received consulting fees from the Medicinal Cannabis Industry Australia for a commissioned review article and Haleon (a consumer health-care subsidiary of GSK) for non-cannabinoid related work. She is a committee member for the Sleep Health Week Working Party and an expert speaker for the Sleep Health Foundation.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Adrian Beaumont, Election Analyst (Psephologist) at The Conversation; and Honorary Associate, School of Mathematics and Statistics, The University of Melbourne
Labor leads in Victorian state polls by Newspoll and Redbridge, but Premier Jacinta Allan is very unpopular. Two federal polls give Labor big leads and a Tasmanian poll suggests Tasmanians would support Labor seeking to form a government with the Greens and independents.
The next Victorian state election will be held in November 2026. The first Newspoll since the 2022 election was conducted June 23–30, but no sample size was given. It gave Labor a 53–47 lead (55.0–45.0 to Labor at the last election). Primary votes were 35% Labor, 35% Coalition, 12% Greens and 18% for all Others.
Despite the clear Labor lead on voting intentions, Labor Premier Jacinta Allan’s net approval was a dismal -31, with 61% dissatisfied and 30% satisfied. Liberal leader Brad Battin led Allan as preferred premier by 41–36. Battin had a net approval of -5.
Just 25% said Labor deserved to be re-elected, while 59% said it was time to give someone else a go. But by 60–40, voters were not confident the Coalition was ready to govern.
The Poll Bludger said that by 59–32, voters supported the Suburban Rail Loop, but they were worried rather than confident by huge margins on four policy areas: state debt (78% worried, 13% confident), law and order (76–20), hospitals (71–25) and housing (78–16).
A Victorian Redbridge poll for The Herald Sun, conducted June 19–30 from a sample of 1,183, gave Labor a 51.5–48.5 lead, a 2.5-point gain for Labor since the last Victorian Redbridge poll in April. Primary votes were 38% Coalition (down three), 33% Labor (up four), 14% Greens (up one) and 15% for all Others (down two).
By 55–27, voters did not think the Allan government had the right focus and priorities. But by 45–26, they did not think Battin and the Coalition had done enough to deserve to win the next election.
Labor has held government in Victoria since they won the 2014 election, and for all but one term (2010–14) since they won the 1999 election. By November 2026, Labor will have governed for the last 12 years and 23 of the last 27 years. It’s reasonable to expect an “it’s time” factor at the next election.
It’s plausible that federal Labor’s surprise landslide at the May 3 election has assisted Labor at other levels of government. Normally a government with a premier at -31 net approval would be way behind on voting intentions.
The Coalition will hope that any boost for state Labor from the federal election will be temporary. There’s still a long time until the next state election, so Labor could fall back as voters focus more on state politics.
Another possible explanation for Labor’s lead despite a very unpopular premier is the infighting within the Liberals over the fallout between John Pesutto and Moira Deeming.
Redbridge and DemosAU federal polls have big Labor leads
A national Redbridge poll, conducted in late June from a sample of 4,036, was reported by The Financial Review. Labor led by 55.5–44.5, almost unchanged from the election result (55.2–44.8 to Labor). Primary votes were 37% Labor, 31% Coalition, 11% Greens and 21% for all Others. One Nation is likely to have made up a high proportion of Others, otherwise Labor’s two-party lead would be higher.
This poll gave Labor a 68–32 lead with those aged 18–34 and a 57–43 lead with those aged 35–49. With those aged 50–64, there was a 50–50 tie, while the Coalition led by 55–45 with those aged 65 and older. The Greens’ primary vote was 24% with the youngest demographic, but just 2% with the oldest.
A national DemosAU poll, conducted July 5–6 from a sample of 1,199, gave Labor a 59–41 lead, from primary votes of 36% Labor, 26% Coalition, 14% Greens, 9% One Nation and 15% for all Others. Education breakdowns had Labor winning by 55–45 with school-educated people, 61–39 with those with a TAFE education and 59–41 with the university educated.
After their landslide re-election, Labor is getting a second honeymoon in the polls. One Nation was overstated at the election, but perhaps their increase from 6.4% then reflects dissatisfaction on the right with Sussan Ley’s leadership of the Liberals.
YouGov Tasmanian poll on hung parliament options
The Tasmanian state election will be held on July 19, only 16 months after the previous election in March 2024. Tasmania uses a proportional system for its lower house elections, and polls suggest another hung parliament is likely. A YouGov poll, conducted June 12–16 from a sample of 842 for The Australia Institute, was reported by The Tasmanian Times on Wednesday.
Voting intentions were not released, but results of questions were released on whether Labor or the Liberals should seek to form a government with the Greens and independents if they were not elected in their own right.
For Labor, by 55–31 voters agreed they should seek to form such a government, including 61–25 agree with Labor voters. For the Liberals, by 48–37 voters agreed they should try to form such a government, but Liberal voters disagreed by 46–45.
Adrian Beaumont does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Brenton Griffin, Casual Lecturer and Tutor in History, Indigenous Studies, and Politics, Flinders University
Hulu
Reality TV series The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives follows a number of social media influencers from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who rose to prominence through social media, and particularly TikTok.
The show is based in Utah, United States, where the church has its headquarters. But it stands in stark contrast with the stereotypical perception of Mormons – and especially Mormon women – the church has promoted for more than a century.
Through its exploration of traditionally “taboo” topics such as sex, marital issues, mental illness and sexual abuse, The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives clashes against the church’s carefully curated public image.
Historical pariahs
Historically, the church’s practice of polygamy placed it at odds with the mainstream sexual and familial norms of 19th century America.
Polygamy had been practised by Mormons since at least the 1830s, and was officially announced as permissible by the church in 1852. The church now acknowledges its founder, Joseph Smith, married almost 40 women and teenage girls before his death in 1844.
When Mormon missionaries began to proselytise throughout the world, newspapers criticised the practice, and Mormons were framed as sexual deviants and racialised “pariahs”. In other words, Mormons were presented as being racially different to the rest of white American society. This claim was even supported by doctors at the time.
To Mormons, however, polygamy was a reintroduction of the correct form of marriage, and they pointed to biblical prophets to justify it.
In 1862, the US congress passed a series of laws aimed at abolishing polygamy. This resulted in the arrest of church leaders and the confiscation of church-owned funds and properties in Utah.
Then, in the 1870s, exposés written by former Mormons (particularly women) decried polygamy as evil, increasing hostility against Mormon leaders.
Ann Eliza Webb Young, ex-wife of Mormon prophet Brigham Young, wrote the exposé ‘Wife No. 19, Or The Story of Life in Bondage’. Internet Archive Open Library
In 1890, church leader Wilford Woodruff announced in a revelation known as the Manifesto that polygamy would cease. The Manifesto was accepted by most Mormons as the government’s harassment increased. However, breakaway groups called “fundamentalists” continued the practice.
Today, Mormon scriptures continue to state polygamy is the correct form of marriage, and will exist in the afterlife.
The stereotypical Mormon
Since the ending of polygamy, the church has sought to establish itself as a moral equal to mainstream Christian norms, especially sexual norms. In 1995, it released a document titled Family: A Proclamation to the World which emphasised the view that heterosexual marriage and strict gender roles are divinely ordained.
The 1995 official Mormon document, ‘The Family: A Proclamation to the World’. BYU Scholar Arcive
In doing so, it has promoted unique doctrines and practices, such as sexual abstinence before marriage, and a particular health code called the Word of Wisdom which bars alcohol, tea, coffee and tobacco.
These doctrines, and existing stereotypes of Mormons, are examined in The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives.
Before the show was released, the church published a general statement saying media portrayals of Mormons “often rely on sensationalism and inaccuracies that do not fairly and fully reflect the lives of our Church members”. It has yet to directly comment on the show.
Nonetheless, the representation of Mormons in The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives is problematic for the church, because it transgresses its highly curated image of Mormonism.
As the influencers put it, there is a desire to push back against stereotypes around Mormonism, and particularly Mormon women. These stereotypes have been crystallised by the church to combat perceptions of Mormons as sexually abhorrent, due to past practices of polygamy.
There is also a tongue-in-cheek acknowledgement that while the church prohibits stimulants such as tea, coffee and alcohol, Mormons within Utah and surrounds still consume other, somewhat surprising, substances. For instance, the use of ketamine in therapy is allowed when administered by a healthcare professional.
The series also engages with topics considered taboo in the church, such as marital issues, mental health struggles and consensual sex. Even if these are being played up by the cast or producers, such discussions are lacking in broader Mormon circles.
Importantly, there are admissions by some cast members, including one of the husbands, of being sexually abused as children. According to the cast members themselves, these disclosures are intended to empower viewers who may have had similar experiences.
This is a powerful critique, because the Mormon church has come under intense scrutiny for its failure to properly respond to child sexual assault, both in the US and globally.
The next steps
The show is having a marked impact on perceptions of Mormonism, despite the church’s stance it doesn’t represent the beliefs and lifestyle of Mormons more broadly.
For many viewers, it might be their introduction to the religion. This is concerning for adherents, and particularly for the church’s leadership.
The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives reunion special aired earlier this month. Hulu
There are internal tools the church could use against the show’s cast members, such as disciplinary councils or excommunication. But these would be ineffective since only about half the members consider themselves “faithful” Mormons.
It’s interesting the church has yet to condemn the show. Perhaps maintaining an image of reluctant acceptance is more important, as in recent years the church has been criticised for overreach against its own members.
In this case, the show would be an uncomfortable reality the church will just have to live with. Either way, the damage to the stereotypical Mormon image is done.
The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives is available to stream on Disney+.
Brenton Griffin was raised as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but is no longer a practising member of the church. His research is focused on the religion’s place in Australian and New Zealand popular culture, politics, and society from the 19th century to present.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Stephen Hickson, Lecturer in Economics and Director, Business Taught Masters Programme, University of Canterbury
Defence spending is like insurance – you have to pay for it but you hope you never have to use it. And the higher the risk you face, the higher your premium will be.
New Zealand has now committed to paying those higher defence insurance premiums. The government’s 2025 Defence Capability Plan, released in April, includes NZ$9 billion in extra funding over the next four years. That’s a sizable increase on a current annual budget of just under $5 billion.
New Zealand is not alone, of course. Driven by geopolitical tensions and US President Donald Trump’s demand that other countries spend a higher proportion of their GDP on defence, global military spending rose for the tenth year in a row to US$2,718 billion in 2024, with huge increases in Europe and the Middle East.
How much “insurance” a country should buy in the form of defence spending will vary. Too little, and it cannot respond when it needs to; too much, and resources are needlessly wasted. For New Zealand, it is a matter of finding the right balance.
Economically, however, defence spending is more complicated than simply buying weapons and recruiting more personnel. There can be benefits beyond basic security considerations.
One involves what economists call “technology spillovers”. Past innovations developed for military use – such as jet engines, GPS and the internet – often found important civilian applications.
The challenge is to design defence investments to deliberately build skills and technologies with wider economic benefit: advanced manufacturing, cybersecurity or clean tech. New Zealand’s defence plan includes this kind of spending, including
between $100 million and 300 million on cybersecurity.
On the other hand, promises of new jobs from large projects are often overstated, with New Zealand’s best known example being the “Think Big” policy of the 1970s. Rather, there can be job substitution as people move from civilian roles into military ones.
Guns and butter
In the end, of course, increased defence spending must be funded – through higher taxes, more debt or reduced spending on other items. Higher GDP growth would make the expenditure more affordable, but even then we face the same tradeoffs. It’s not possible to have lower taxes and debt as well as higher government spending.
Most of the expenditure set out in the defence plan will be on equipment. But any increase in the output of the defence industry will likely crowd out other consumer and investment goods.
While clearly an extreme example, one only has to look at how defence spending rose during WWII. The increase in military output came at the expense of other goods, leading to shortages and rationing.
New Zealand doesn’t face that scale of change, but there is still likely to be some shift in production from “butter to guns”. We might also see a shift in how businesses spend their research and development money, towards military and away from civilian applications.
New Zealand does not have a large defence industry and will need to import much of the new equipment. This implies a need for higher exports to pay for those imports, meaning fewer goods for New Zealanders to consume.
Costs and benefits
Most countries are understandably reluctant to cut spending on health, education and other things voters care about in order to boost defence. Hence, governments can be tempted to label new expenditures as “defence” when it could otherwise be classified as “updated infrastructure”.
Spending on dual-purpose capital works is likely to increase, therefore, with projects earmarked for defence more likely to be funded. The New Zealand defence plan already allows for housing, airfield and port facilities that can all have multiple uses.
There are also ethical considerations. Many consumers prefer not to invest in the arms trade, but components used in weapons manufacture often have non-military uses as well.
Similarly, many consumer items, such as phones, vehicles and food, can be purchased by the military but clearly have non-military uses. We may see more of the output of companies that also produce non-military items directed into defence.
All of this can make it difficult to classify a company as a defence contractor, and may be challenging for large investors (such as superannuation funds) with ethical investment policies. At the same time, the cost of not investing in defence firms might also rise as demand for their products or services increases and they become better investments.
Like people in general, countries prefer lower insurance premiums. But when risks increase, so too does the price of insurance. Voters will disagree on how much should be spent on defence, but that is largely a political question.
What economics teaches us, however, is that if you want to reduce your insurance premium, then reduce your risk. And that is something easier said than done.
Stephen Hickson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Nicolas Flament, Associate Professor and ARC Future Fellow, Environmental Futures, School of Science, University of Wollongong
But what fuels a giant eruption, and how does it make its way to the surface from deep within the planet?
In a new study published in Communications Earth and Environment, we show that columns of hot rock, which rise some 3,000 kilometres through Earth’s mantle and cause giant eruptions, are connected to continent-sized source regions we call BLOBS.
Hidden blobs within Earth
BLOBS are hot regions at the bottom of Earth’s mantle (between about 2,000km and 3,000km in depth) which might be composed of different material compared with the surrounding mantle rocks.
Scientists have long known about these two hot regions under the Pacific Ocean and Africa. Geologist David Evans from Yale University suggested the acronym BLOBS, which stands for Big LOwer-mantle Basal Structures.
These BLOBS have possibly existed for hundreds of millions of years. It is unclear whether they’re stationary or if they move around as part of mantle motion (called convection).
Mantle plumes were the implicit link in previous studies relating BLOBS to giant volcanic eruptions. Their shape is a bit like a lollipop: the “stick” is the plume tail and the “candy” is the plume head.
Connection between the deep mantle and Earth’s surface showing the relationship between BLOBS, mantle plumes and giant volcanic eruptions – not drawn to scale.
Mantle plumes rise very slowly through the mantle because they transport hot solid rock, not melt or lava. At lower pressures in the uppermost 200km of Earth’s mantle, the solid rock melts, leading to eruptions.
A long-sought relationship
In our new study, we simulated mantle convection from 1 billion years ago and found that mantle plumes rise from moving BLOBS and can sometimes be gently tilted.
Giant volcanic eruptions can be identified by the volume of volcanic rocks preserved at Earth’s surface. The ocean floor preserves detailed fingerprints of mantle plumes for the past 120 million years or so (there is not much seafloor older than that).
We used statistics to show that the locations of past giant volcanic eruptions are significantly related to the mantle plumes predicted by our models. This is encouraging, as it suggests that the simulations predict mantle plumes in places and at times generally consistent with the geologic record.
Model BLOBS, plume tails, and giant volcanic eruptions under the African hemisphere from 300 million years ago. BLOBS are coloured in dark red and plume tails are coloured by depth in yellow to orange tones, with warmer colours at greater depths. At the surface, the outlines of continental blocks are shown in transparent grey, and giant volcanic eruption locations are shown as green triangles.
Are BLOBS fixed or mobile?
We showed that the considered eruption locations fall either onto or close to the moving BLOBS predicted by our models. Eruption locations slightly outside moving BLOBS could be explained by plume tilting.
We represented fixed BLOBS with 3D images of Earth’s interior, created using seismic waves from distant earthquakes (a technique called seismic tomography). One out of the four seismic tomographic models that we considered matched the locations of past giant volcanic eruptions, implying that the fixed BLOBS scenario cannot be ruled out for geologically recent times – the past 300 million years.
One of the next steps for this research is to explore the chemical nature of BLOBS and plume conduits. We can do so with simulations that track the evolution of their composition.
Our results suggest the deep Earth is dynamic. BLOBS, which are some 2,000km below Earth’s surface, move hundreds of kilometres over time, and are connected to Earth’s surface by mantle plumes that create giant eruptions.
To take a step back and keep things in perspective: while deep Earth motions are significant over tens of millions of years, they are generally in the order of 1 centimetre per year. This means BLOBS shift at roughly the rate at which human hair grows.
Outcrops of shocked rocks from the Miralga impact structure.Aaron Cavosie
Ever been late because you misread a clock? Sometimes, the “clocks” geologists use to date events can also be misread. Unravelling Earth’s 4.5-billion-year history with rocks is tricky business.
Case in point: the discovery of an ancient meteorite impact crater was recently reported in the remote Pilbara region of Western Australia. The original study, by a different group, made headlines with the claim the crater formed 3.5 billion years ago. If true, it would be Earth’s oldest by far.
As it turns out, we’d also been investigating the same site. Our results are published in Science Advances today. While we agree that this is the site of an ancient meteorite impact, we have reached different conclusions about its age, size and significance.
Let’s consider the claims made about this fascinating crater.
One impact crater, two versions of events
Planetary scientists search for ancient impacts to learn about Earth’s early formation. So far, nobody has found an impact crater older than the 2.23-billion-year-old Yarrabubba structure, also in Australia. (Some of the authors from both 2025 Pilbara studies were coauthors on the 2020 Yarrabubba study.)
The new contender is located in an area called North Pole Dome. Despite the name, this isn’t where Santa lives. It’s an arid, hot, ochre-stained landscape.
The sun sets on the arid landscape of North Pole Dome in the Pilbara region of Western Australia. Alec Brenner
The first report on the new crater claimed it formed 3.5 billion years ago, and was more than 100 kilometres in diameter. It was proposed that such a large impact might have played a role in forming continental crust in the Pilbara. More speculatively, the researchers also suggested it may have influenced early life.
Our study concludes the impact actually happened much later, sometime after 2.7 billion years ago. This is at least 800 million years younger than the earlier estimate (and we think it’s probably even younger; more on that in a moment).
We also determined the crater was much smaller – about 16km in diameter. In our view, this impact was too young and too small to have influenced continent formation or early life.
So how could two studies arrive at such different findings?
Subtle clues of an impact
The originally circular crater is deeply eroded, leaving only subtle clues on the landscape. However, among the rust-coloured basalts are unique telltale signs of meteorite impact: shatter cones.
Outcrop photo of shatter cones in basalt at the Miralga impact structure. The black pen cap is 5cm long. Alec Brenner
Shatter cones are distinctive fossilised imprints of shock waves that have passed through rocks. Their unique conical shapes form under brief but immense pressure where a meteorite strikes Earth.
Both studies found shatter cones, and agree the site is an ancient impact.
This new crater also needed a name. We consulted the local Aboriginal people, the Nyamal, who shared the traditional name for this place and its people: Miralga. The “Miralga impact structure” name recognises this heritage.
Determining the timing of the impact
The impact age was estimated by field observations, as neither study found material likely to yield an impact age by radiometric dating – a method that uses measurements of radioactive isotopes.
Both studies applied a geological principle called the law of superposition. This states that rock layers get deposited one on top of another over time, so rocks on top are younger than those below.
Example of the law of superposition, known as Hutton’s unconformity, at Siccar Point Scotland. The gently dipping layered rocks at the top left were deposited onto – and are therefore younger than – the nearly vertical layered rocks at the bottom right. Anne Burgess/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA
The first group found shatter cones within and below a sedimentary layer known to have been deposited 3.47 billion years ago, but no shatter cones in younger rocks above this layer. This meant the impact occurred during deposition of the sedimentary layer.
Their observation seemed to be a “smoking gun” for an impact 3.47 billion years ago.
As it turns out, there was more to the story.
Our investigation found shatter cones in the same 3.47 billion-year-old rocks, but also in younger overlying rocks, including lavas known to have erupted 2.77 billion years ago.
Outcrop of shatter cones in 2.77-billion-year-old basalt at the Miralga impact structure. These lavas are the youngest rocks in the area we found to have shatter cones. They have distinctive holes (vesicles) representing trapped gas bubbles. The pen is 15cm long. Aaron Cavosie
The impact had to occur after the formation of the youngest rocks that contained shatter cones, meaning sometime after the 2.77-billion-year-old lavas.
At the moment, we don’t know precisely how young the crater is. We can only constrain the impact to have occurred between 2.7 billion and 400 million years ago. We’re working on dating the impact by isotopic methods, but these results aren’t yet in.
Smaller than originally thought
We made the first map showing where shatter cones are found. There are many hundreds over an area 6km across. From this map and their orientations, we calculate the original crater was about 16km in diameter.
A 16km crater is a far cry from the original estimate of more than 100km. It’s too small to have influenced the formation of continents or life. By the time of the impact, the Pilbara was already quite old.
Artist’s depiction looking northwest across the Pilbara, over the 16km-wide Miralga crater. The crater is shown 3km above the modern land surface to account for the deep erosion that has since erased it. The crater size is based on the distribution of shatter cones (inset). The cones point up and back towards the original ‘ground zero’ of the impact. Maps produced using Google Earth Studio. Alec Brenner
A new connection to Mars
Science is a self-policing sport. Claims of discovery are based on data available at the time, but they often require modification based on new data or observations.
While it’s not the world’s oldest, the Miralga impact is scientifically unique, as craters formed in basalt are rare. Most basalts there formed 3.47 billion years ago, making them the oldest shocked target rocks known.
Prior to impact, these ancient basalts had been chemically altered by seawater. Sedimentary rocks nearby also contain the earliest well-established fossils on Earth. Such rocks likely covered much of early Earth and Mars.
This makes the Miralga impact structure a playground for planetary scientists studying the cratered surface (and maybe early life) of Mars. It’s an easily accessible proving ground for Mars exploration instruments and imagery, right here on Earth.
Aaron J. Cavosie receives or has received funding from the Australian Research Council, the US National Science Foundation, and NASA.
Alec Brenner does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Green hydrogen is touted by some as the future – a way for Australia to slowly replace its reliance on fossil fuel exports. The energy-dense gas has the potential to reduce emissions in sectors challenging to decarbonise, such as steelmaking and fertiliser manufacturing.
The Albanese government wants it to be a massive new export industry and has laid out a pathway through its National Hydrogen Strategy.
Unfortunately, there’s a real gap between rhetoric and reality. Despite ambitious plans, no green hydrogen project has yet succeeded in Australia. The technology’s most prominent local backer, billionaire miner Twiggy Forrest, has dialled down his ambition. Globally, just 7% of announced green hydrogen projects are up and running.
Economic viability is one problem. But there’s a much larger issue flying under the radar: water. Hitting the 2050 target of 15 million to 30 million tonnes of hydrogen a year would use 7–15% of the amount Australia’s households, farms, mines and black coal power plants use annually. That’s simply not sustainable.
Splitting water
Green hydrogen uses renewable energy to power electrolyser machines, which split water molecules into hydrogen and oxygen.
On the surface, this is an appealing use of clean energy, especially during solar peak periods.
But what the government hasn’t properly accounted for is the water cost for green hydrogen. The strategy states water use is likely to be “considerable but not prohibitive”.
This is questionable. For every kilogram of hydrogen produced through electrolysis, nine litres of water are directly consumed.
That’s not all. The water needed to make hydrogen has to be extremely pure. Salt water has to be desalinated, and even fresh water needs purification. Equipment also needs cooling, which consumes even more water.
All these processes incur substantial indirect water losses, such as the water used for industrial processes and cooling. The volumes used are highly uncertain. They can be up to 20 times greater than the direct water use.
A key input value for the government’s hydrogen strategy modelling is taken from a 2015 report by the Argonne National Energy Laboratory in the United States, which assumes each kilogram of green hydrogen produced requires just over 30 litres of water.
The Australian hydrogen strategy suggests 30 litres per kilogram of hydrogen would cover “all system losses including purification processes and cooling water required”. But it’s not clear if this figure covers other uses of water in making hydrogen, such as water treatment.
Green hydrogen could help industrial sectors transition from fossil fuels. The problem is the water use. Audio und werbung/Shutterstock
How much water would this use?
According to the government’s modelling, making 15 million tonnes would require 740 billion litres of water. That would be about 7% of the 10,450 billion litres used by all of Australia’s households, farms, mines and black coal power plants.
That’s substantial. One and a half Sydney Harbours worth, every year. But it might be a major underestimate. After all, estimates on indirect water use differ widely. The government’s figures are at the very bottom of the range.
For instance, the latest research gives water consumption figures of about 66 litres per kilogram – more than twice as large. Other sourcesgive values between 90 and 300 litres per kilogram of hydrogen – three to ten times higher.
Uncertainty in modelling is normal. But the wide research suggesting much higher water use should give rise to real concern.
If we take a middle-of-the-range figure of 95 litres per kilogram, this would mean that making 15 million tonnes of green hydrogen would use up 22% of the 10,450 billion litres used by households, farms, mines and black coal power plants annually by 2050.
If hydrogen was even thirstier at 310 litres per kilogram, that would translate to 72% of that figure.
These estimates are enormous. Even under the most optimistic scenario, the draw on Australia’s scarce freshwater resources would simply be too much. Where would this water come from? Farmers? Groundwater? Environmental flows from rivers?
As the Queensland Farmers Federation pointed out in its response to the hydrogen strategy, the figures on water use “beg the question if they are in fact sustainable”.
The Water Services Association of Australia has called for much greater attention to the water demands of green hydrogen, which it says are “often seriously underestimated”.
What about saltwater? Australia has no shortage of oceans. The problem here becomes energy and wastewater. Desalination is still very energy intensive. Converting saltwater to fresh also produces large volumes of super-salty brine, which must then be managed as waste.
Which way forward?
Does this mean green hydrogen is a non-starter? Not necessarily. Improved electrolyser technology might offer ways to slash water use, while circular economy approaches such as resource recovery from brine could also reduce losses.
But these concerns about water must be front and centre in future discussions about the shape and size of the industry in Australia.
Madoc Sheehan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
