Zeitschriftenartikel zum Thema „Black female offenders“

Using 2,000 federal supervisees comprised of 500 White males, 500 Black males, 500 White females, and 500 Black females, this study evaluated whether race and sex are differentially associated with proactive and reactive criminal thinking. It was predicted that proactive criminal thinking would be higher in Black than White supervisees and that reactive criminal thinking should be higher in female than male supervisees. Results revealed that instrumental motives for crime, as represented by proactive criminal thinking, were more prevalent in Black male offenders, and expressive motives for crime, as represented by reactive criminal thinking, were more prevalent in White female offenders.

This study investigates treatment resistance in several subpopulations of female offenders in substance abuse treatment programs. Using the Correctional Treatment Resistance Scale, data from 153 adult female inmates were analyzed according to ethnic and treatment group differences. It was found that treatment resistance was consistent across treatment groups, but elevated resistance scores were observed for Black and Hispanic female offenders. Implications of the results are discussed for counselor preparation, treatment planning, and pretreatment orientation when female offenders from diverse backgrounds are in substance abuse treatment programs.

The association between alcohol use and substantiated incidents of nonmutual and mutual domestic violence between U.S. Army enlisted soldiers and their spouses was examined for the period 1998–2004. Maltreatment was always more severe in nonmutual incidents. Female victims experienced more severe maltreatment than males. Male offenders and victims were more likely to be drinking than females. For victims of both sexes, severity was greater when offenders were drinking. Older males were more likely to be offenders in nonmutual incidents. White males were more likely than Black or Hispanic males to be offenders in nonmutual incidents. There is a need for both domestic violence and alcohol treatment programs to focus on the increased risk of abuse when alcohol is involved.

Marital rape first appeared in a peer-reviewed publication in 1977 (Gelles, 1977), was first prosecuted as a crime in 1978, but took another two decades to be recognized as a crime across the United States. Marital rape is an underreported social problem occurring twice as frequently as media-saturated stranger rape (Russell, 1990). The present study draws on 5 years of National Incident-Based Reporting System (NIBRS) data (2008–2012) to provide baseline information on reported male-to-female marital sexual intimate partner violence (IPV) compared to nonmarital sexual IPV. Findings reveal, in part, that husbands as perpetrators, and wives as victims, are significantly older than non-married sexual IPV offenders and victims. Married offenders are more likely to be White, and dating offenders Black. Injuries are significantly more likely if the victim and offender are married, with marital sexual IPV cases more likely to include sexual penetration, including higher incidence of rape, sodomy, and sexual assault with an object.

The present study intends to study Toni Morrison’s novel The Bluest Eyes with a Feminist approach. It shows how the sex-offenders oppress little black girls in a patriarchal society. The sex-offenders on the other hand are presented as victims of circumstances and their victimization of black girls is justified by portraying the girls to be the cause of the heinous acts committed to violate their innocence. All black girls, despite the claim of the novelist that it is written from their perspective, are presented in the novel to be reasonably oppressed by the male characters. The author through a series of incidents has tried to depict the objectification of the female sex on one side while the victimization of the sex-offenders on the other. It is a strange dichotomy of events and incidents which has been explored through Catherine Belsey’s Textual Analysis as tool of interpreting various scenes and dialogues.

BackgroundResearch has revealed high levels of mental health needs in young offenders but many studies have been small, focusing on specific populations.AimsTo evaluate the mental health and psychosocial needs of a nationally representative sample of juvenile offenders in England and Wales, including female offenders and those from Black and minority ethnic groups.MethodA cross-sectional survey of 301 young offenders, 151 in custody and 150 in the community, was conducted in six geographically representative areas across England and Wales. Each young person was interviewed to obtain demographic information, mental health and social needs, and psychometric data.ResultsYoung offenders were found to have high levels of needs in a number of different areas including mental health (31%), education/work (36%) and social relationships (48%). Young offenders in the community had significantly more needs than those in secure care and needs were often unmet. One in five young offenders was also identified as having a learning disability (IQ < 70).ConclusionsNeeds for young offenders were high but often unmet. This emphasises the importance of structured needs assessment within custody and community settings in conjunction with a care programme approach that improves continuity of care.

While there is a proliferation of research devoted to ascertaining the efficacy of arrest and other formal sanctions in deterring domestic violence, little research has focused on factors related to the pivotal point at which this formal sanctioning process begins, namely, in a victim’s decision to report her victimization to police. This paper is an attempt to rectify this omission by examining those factors most important in predicting the police-reporting behavior of 1535 female victims of intimate-perpetrated violence (e.g., by husbands and boyfriends) taken from the National Crime Victimization Survey during 1987-1992. In addition to predicting the reporting decision of these victims, models predicting various police responses to a victim’s report were also examined, including police response times, police actions at the scene, and the probability of an arrest being made. A combination of contextual and demographic characteristics affected the probability that incidents would be placed into the realm of formal sanctioning. Black victims, victims who sustained injury as the result of their victimization, and victims who reported that the offender had not victimized them before were more likely to report their victimizations to police. These same factors were also significant predictors of arrest. Police were more likely to make an arrest in incidents in which victims had sustained injuries, when the offender did not have a history of violence, and in incidents which involved Black offenders victimizing Black victims. Implications for the “Battered Woman Syndrome” and suggestions for future research are discussed.

Research on campus sexual assault (CSA) has almost exclusively drawn on self-report data, examined undergraduates (i.e., students aged 18-24), and focused on female victimization. The few studies which included male CSA victims generally had fewer than 100 male subjects, which makes important statistical analyses difficult. To build upon prior literature and expand knowledge on male CSA victimization, we analyzed more than 5,000 incidents of CSA that were reported to police from across the United States using National Incident-Based Reporting System data (NIBRS; 1993-2014). We expanded victim age ranges to include those 17 to 32 years old and investigated more male CSA victimizations than prior work to date, approximately 350 incidents. Comparisons of male victim versus female victim CSA incidents, estimated via multivariate logistic regression, revealed several important patterns. Although both male and female victims were approximately 19 years old on average, perpetrators who assaulted females tended to be 23 years old while those assaulting males were on average 29. While 1% of CSA perpetrators offending against female victims were themselves female, 17% of perpetrators offending against male victims were female. Finally, CSA incidents with male victims were more likely to include multiple offenders, but less likely to involve stranger or Black perpetrators and also less likely to result in injuries relative to CSA incidents with female victims. Implications are discussed in terms of policing practices, and we pose new questions to the field regarding the study and prevention of CSA.

AbstractParental behaviors may shape levels of psychopathic traits and antisocial outcomes among youth. To better evaluate the potential causality of these associations, we used eight follow-ups from the Pathways to Desistance study of 1354 offending adolescents (14.3% female; 40.1% black) and examined whether within-individual variation in parenting over time was associated with within-individual variation in psychopathic traits and offending. Multilevel regression models were adjusted for age, gender, ethnicity, contact with parental figure, and self-reported offending. Adolescent self-reported parental warmth was associated with lower psychopathic traits, and parental hostility with higher psychopathic traits. The results indicated that the more supportive and nurturing the parent, the lower the levels of psychopathic traits, whereas the more hostile the parent, the higher the levels, respectively. In addition, self-reported offending was predicted by higher parental hostility and lower maternal warmth. In time-lagged analysis, psychopathic traits did not predict parental behaviors. In young offenders parental warmth may protect against development of psychopathic traits in adolescence, whereas parental hostility may strengthen these traits. We conclude, that parenting quality matters in adolescence. Warm parenting style at this developmental period associates with lower psychopathic features among young offenders possibly lowering the risk of further criminal activity.

Is the relationship between criminal thinking and recidivism the same for criminal justice–involved individuals from varying demographic backgrounds? Relying on two independent samples of offenders and two measures of criminal thinking, the current studies examined whether four demographic factors—gender, race, age, and education—moderated the relationship between criminal thinking and recidivism. Study 1 consisted of 226 drug-involved probationers enrolled in a randomized clinical trial. Study 2 consisted of 346 jail inmates from a longitudinal study. Logistic regression models suggested that the strength of the relationship between criminal thinking and subsequent recidivism did not vary based on participant demographics, regardless of justice system setting or measure of criminal thinking. Criminal thinking predicts recidivism similarly for people who are male, female, Black, White, older, younger, and more or less educated.

This study examines homicide clearance rates in the United States using the FBI’s supplementary homicide reports data spanning from 1976 to 2017. The goal of this study is to examine the effects of circumstances in which homicides occurred on homicide clearance rates, and the effects of victim’s race, age, and gender on homicide clearance rates. The analyses are based on 769,753 total homicide cases that were reported to the FBI. The actual data set includes information for 757,801 victims and 513,863 offenders total. The results of this study show that a typical profile of a homicide victim whose case is more likely to remain unsolved is that of a black male between the ages of 21 to 30 who is killed in a juvenile gang-related killing circumstance. By gender, this study shows that the clearance rate for homicide cases involving female victims is 8.4% higher than for male homicide victims.

Through the framework of power-control theory (PCT), we provide a model of juvenile offending that places the gendered-raced treatment of juveniles central to the analysis. We test the theory using a unique sample that is predominately African American, poor, and composed entirely of juvenile offenders. Multivariate models compare the predictive power of many variables, including ones central to PCT, on status offenses and other, more serious, offenses. Gender and race variables were found to be significant, but varied in their impact across models. The interaction between these variables suggests that being Black and female increases the likelihood of sanctioning for status offenses, but not other types of offenses. Contrary to the theory, single-mother-headed households do not seem to produce more delinquent girls than other types of households. The overall findings of this study indicate that patriarchy and white privilege are continuing characteristics of the juvenile justice system.

Historical analyses of southern statutes (i.e., Slave Codes, Black Codes, “Jim Crow,” etc.) and their enforcement reveals evidence of an enduring cultural legacy prescribing lethal vengeance to Blacks who violate White sensibilities, especially for Black males accused of sexually assaulting White females. Using a population of official data on capital murder trials in North Carolina (1977–2009), this study examines the degree to which this cultural legacy endures to the present by examining the joint effects of offender’s race and rape/sexual assault on the capital sentencing outcomes of capital murder trial involving White female victims. Our findings reveal support for the continuing endurance of this cultural legacy of lethal vengeance.

ImportanceSexual abuse is increasingly facilitated by technology, but the prevalence and dynamics of such offenses have not been well delineated, making it difficult to design prevention strategies.ObjectiveTo examine the frequency and characteristics of online and technology-facilitated sexual abuse against children and youth.Design, Setting, and ParticipantsIn this nationally representative online survey study performed from November 19 to December 29, 2021, young adults aged 18 to 28 years were asked retrospectively about their childhood (&amp;lt;18 years) experiences of online and technology-facilitated abuse. The 2639 participants were sampled from an online panel.Main Outcomes and MeasuresParticipants were asked questions about 11 different kinds of online and technology-facilitated sexual abuse with follow-up questions about their dynamics and offenders. Prevalence rates were calculated for several cross-cutting concepts (online child sexual abuse, image-based sexual abuse, self-produced child sexual abuse images, nonconsensual sexting, online grooming by adults, revenge pornography, sextortion, and online commercial sexual exploitation). Survey weights were applied to obtain population prevalence estimates.ResultsA total of 2639 individuals (48.5% male, 49.8% female, and 1.8% other gender; 23.7% Hispanic, 12.6% non-Hispanic Black, 53.9% non-Hispanic White, 4.8% other race, and 5.0% ≥2 races) were surveyed. Childhood (before 18 years of age) prevalence rates were as follows: online child sexual abuse, 15.6% (SE, 1.0%); image-based sexual abuse, 11.0% (SE, 0.9%); self-produced child sexual abuse images, 7.2% (SE, 0.7%); nonconsensual sexting, 7.2% (SE, 0.7%); online grooming by adults, 5.4% (SE, 0.5%); revenge pornography, 3.1% (SE, 0.5%); sextortion, 3.5% (SE, 0.6%); and online commercial sexual exploitation, 1.7% (SE, 0.3%). The prime age of vulnerability across all categories was 13 to 17 years. Perpetrators in most categories were predominantly dating partners, friends, and acquaintances, not online strangers.Conclusions and RelevanceThe results of this national survey study suggest that a considerable portion of youth have experienced online child sexual abuse. Professionals planning prevention and intervention strategies for online sexual abuse should understand that dynamics include diverse episodes that are often extensions of dating abuse, sexual bullying, and sexual harassment, not only events perpetrated by adult internet predators.

In a study of 32,000 referrals to juvenile court, the effects of a program to deinstitutionalize status offenders on detention decisions, intake screening, and final dispositions were examined. Although the results of a general comparison of preprogram and postprogram court actions showed relatively little change in court policies, the data did indicate a slight general trend toward less use of secure detention, a greater use of informal hearings, and a lower rate of juveniles placed on probation or in institutions. Differential treatment based on race was evident throughout the 5-year period. Whereas the rate of secure detention of black juveniles declined overall, it increased for black status offenders, especially females. There was a substantial decrease in the use of formal hearings and in the severity of final dispositions for all cases involving black juveniles.

This article examines the role of race in the patterns of incarceration of women in the state of Maryland during three critical periods: pre-Civil War, Civil War, and post-Civil War. Maryland, a border state, was wedged geographically and politically between the forces of slavery and abolition. In addition to race, the author identifies female offenders by examining place of birth, age, and occupation. The author supports the view that “plantation justice” was inapplicable to Blacks in Maryland. The author also suggests that the historical neglect of women in prison can be attributed to the small contribution of “native” White women to the total female prison population. Racial differences in why female offenders were incarcerated and how long they were sentenced are addressed. These differences are examined across the three time periods, noting the focus on controlling Blacks (free and slave), women, and immigrants.

Abstract The study assessed the viability of the published Oklahoma Aging Forgiveness Model on women in custody using cross-sectional data collected from females, violent and non-violent, in custody in Oklahoma. The theoretical model led to a hierarchical regression of a measure of positive mental health (Positive Evaluation of Life) on a block of control variables (age, education, and crime type), a block consisting of items from the Duke Religiosity measure, and a final block utilizing forgiveness of self, others, and situation (Heartland Forgiveness Scale). Results from the complete sample, N=447, explained 36% of the variance in the outcome. Significant individual predictors included in the final model were crime type, religiosity, and forgiveness of self and situations. We split the sample on crime type and found that for the violent offenders (N=228), 39% of the variance in the outcome was explained; in addition to religiosity, all three assessments of forgiveness were significant predictors. For the non-violent offenders (N=209), 35% of the outcome’s variability was explained. Religiosity, forgiveness of self and situation were significant predictors for this sub-sample. Discussion will focus on the Oklahoma Aging Forgiveness Model and how it works similarly for men in custody (published) and for women in custody. Further, the discussion will focus on the significant role played both by religiosity and forgiveness for those in custody. Findings from this study and that of studies with men clearly demonstrate that religiosity and forgiveness are important aspects of a prisoner’s life.

<p><strong>List of abstracts and authors:</strong></p><p><strong>1. Bipolar disorder not otherwise specified -overdiagnosed or underdiagnosed?</strong></p><p>E Allers</p><p><strong>2. The prognosis of major depression untreated and treated: Does the data reflect the true picture of the prognosis of this very common disorder?</strong></p><p>E Allers</p><p><strong>3. Can we prolong our patients' life expectancy? Providing a better quality of life for patients with severe mental illness</strong></p><p>O A Betencourt</p><p><strong>4. The scope of ECT practice in South Africa</strong></p><p>J Benson-Martin, P Milligan</p><p><strong>5. Biomarkers for schizophrenia: Can we evolve like cancer therapeutics?</strong></p><p>P Buckley<strong></strong></p><p><strong>6. Relapse in schizophrenis: Major challenges in prediction and prevention</strong></p><p>P Buckley</p><p><strong>7. Informed consent in biological treatments: The right to know the duty to inform</strong></p><p><strong></strong>I Chetty</p><p><strong>8. Effectiveness of a long-acting injectable antipsychotic plus an assertive monitoring programme in first-episode schizophrenia</strong></p><p><strong></strong>B Chiliza, L Asmal, O Esan, A Ojagbemi, O Gureje, R Emsley</p><p><strong>9. Name, shame, fame</strong></p><p>P Cilliers</p><p><strong>10. Can we manage the increasing incidence of violent raging children? We have to!</strong></p><p>H Clark</p><p><strong>11. Serotonin, depression and antidepressant action</strong></p><p>P Cowen</p><p><strong>12. Prevalence and correlates of comorbid psychiatris illness in patients with heroin use disorder admitted to Stikland Opioid Detoxification Unit</strong></p><p>L Dannatt, K J Cloete, M Kidd, L Weich</p><p><strong>13. Investigating the association between diabetes mellitus, depression and psychological distress in a cohort of South African teachers</strong></p><p>A K Domingo, S Seedat, T M Esterhuizen, C Laurence, J Volmink, L Asmal</p><p><strong>14. Neuropeptide S -emerging evidence for a role in anxiety</strong></p><p>K Domschke</p><p><strong>15. Pathogenetics of anxiety</strong></p><p>K Domschke</p><p><strong>16. The effects of HIV on the fronto-striatal system</strong></p><p>S du Plessis, M Vink, J Joska, E Koutsilieri, C Scheller, B Spottiswoode, D Stein, R Emsley</p><p><strong>17. Effects of acute antipsychotic treatment on brain morphology in schizophrenia</strong></p><p>R Emsley, L Asmal, B Chiliza, S du Plessis, J Carr, A Goosen, M Kidd, M Vink, R Kahn</p><p><strong>18. Development of a genetic database resource for monitoring of breast cancer patients at risk of physical and psychological complications</strong></p><p>K Grant, F J Cronje, K Botha, J P Apffelstaedt, M J Kotze</p><p><strong>19. Unipolar mania reconsidered: Evidence from a South African study</strong></p><p><strong></strong>C Grobler</p><p><strong>20. Antipsychotic-induced movement disorders: Occurence and management</strong></p><p>P Haddad</p><p><strong>21. The place of observational studies in assessing the effectiveness of long-acting injectable antipsychotics</strong></p><p>P Haddad</p><p><strong>22. Molecular mechanisms of d-cycloserine in fear extinction: Insights from RNS sequencing</strong></p><p>S Hemmings, S Malan-Muller, L Fairbairn, M Jalali, E J Oakeley, J Gamieldien, M Kidd, S Seedat</p><p><strong>23. Schizophrenia: The role of inflammation</strong></p><p>DC Henderson</p><p><strong>24. Addictions: Emergent trends and innovations</strong></p><p>V Hitzeroth</p><p><strong>25. The socio-cultural-religious context of biological psychiatric practice</strong></p><p>B Janse van Rensburg</p><p><strong>26. Biochemical markers for identifying risk factors for disability progression in multiple sclerosis</strong></p><p><strong></strong>S Janse van Rensburg, M J Kotze, F J Cronje, W Davis, K Moremi, M Jalali Sefid Dashti, J Gamieldien, D Geiger, M Rensburg, R van Toorn, M J de Klerk, G M Hon, T Matsha, S Hassan, R T Erasmus</p><p><strong>27. Alcohol-induced psychotic disorder: Brain perfusion and psychopathology - before and after antipsychotic treatment</strong></p><p>G Jordaan, J M Warwick, D G Nel, R Hewlett, R Emsley</p><p><strong>28.'Pump and dump': Harm reduction strategies for breastfeeding while using substances</strong></p><p>L Kramer</p><p><strong>29. Adolescent neuropsychiatry - an emerging field in South African adolescent psychiatric services</strong></p><p>A Lachman</p><p><strong>30. Recovery versus remission, or what it means to be healthy for a psychiatric patient?</strong></p><p>B Latecki</p><p><strong>31. Holistic methods utilised to normalise behaviours in youth diagnosed with neuro-biochemical disorders</strong></p><p>P Macqueen</p><p><strong>32. Candidate genes and novel polymorphisms for anxiety disorder in a South African cohort</strong></p><p>N McGregor, J Dimatelis, S M J Hemmings, C J Kinnear, D Stein, V Russel, C Lochner</p><p><strong>33. Higher visual functioning</strong></p><p>A Moodley</p><p><strong>34. The effects of prenatal methylmercury exposure on trace element and antioxidant levels in rat offspring following 6-hydroxydopamine-induced neuronal insult</strong></p><p>Z M Moosa, W M U Daniels, M V Mabandla</p><p><strong>35. Paediatric neuropsychiatric movement disorders</strong></p><p>L Mubaiwa</p><p><strong>36. The South African national female offenders study</strong></p><p>M Nagdee, L Artz, C de Clercq, P de Wet, H Erlacher, S Kaliski, C Kotze, L Kowalski, J Naidoo, S Naidoo, J Pretorius, M Roffey, F Sokudela, U Subramaney</p><p><strong>37. Neurobiological consequences of child abuse</strong></p><p>C Nemeroff</p><p><strong>38. What do Stellenbosch Unviversity medical students think about psychiatry - and why should we care?</strong></p><p>G Nortje, S Suliman, K Seed, G Lydall, S Seedat</p><p><strong>39. Neurological soft skins in Nigerian Africans with first episode schizophrenia: Factor structure and clinical correlates</strong></p><p><strong></strong>A Ojagbemi, O Esan, O Gureje, R Emsley</p><p><strong>40. Should psychiatric patients know their MTHFR status?</strong></p><p>E Peter</p><p><strong>41. Clinical and functional outcome of treatment refractory first-episode schizophrenia</strong></p><p>L Phahladira, R Emsley, L Asmal, B Chiliza</p><p><strong>42. Bioethics by case discussion</strong></p><p>W Pienaar</p><p><strong>43. Reviewing our social contract pertaining to psychiatric research in children, research in developing countries and distributive justice in pharmacy</strong></p><p>W Pienaar</p><p><strong>44. The performance of the MMSE in a heterogenous elderly South African population</strong></p><p>S Ramlall, J Chipps, A I Bhigjee, B J Pillay</p><p><strong>45. Biological basis addiction (alocohol and drug addiction)</strong></p><p>S Rataemane</p><p><strong>46. Volumetric brain changes in prenatal methamphetamine-exposed children compared with healthy unexposed controls</strong></p><p><strong></strong>A Roos, K Donald, G Jones, D J Stein</p><p><strong>47. Single voxel proton magnetic resonance spectroscopy of the amygdala in social anxiety disorder in the context of early developmental trauma</strong></p><p>D Rosenstein, A Hess, S Seedat, E Meintjies</p><p><strong>48. Discussion of HDAC inhibitors, with specific reference to supliride and its use during breastfeeding</strong></p><p>J Roux</p><p><strong>49. Prevalence and clinical correlates of police contact prior to a first diagnosis of schizophrenia</strong></p><p>C Schumann, L Asmal, K Cloete, B Chiliza, R Emsley</p><p><strong>50. Are dreams meaningless?</strong></p><p>M Solms</p><p><strong>51. The conscious id</strong></p><p>M Solms<strong></strong></p><p><strong>52. Depression and resilience in HIV-infected women with early life stress: Does trauma play a mediating role?</strong></p><p>G Spies, S Seedat</p><p><strong>53. State of affairs analysis for forensic psychiatry in SA</strong></p><p>U Subramaney</p><p><strong>54. Escitalopram in the prevention of post-traumatic stress disorder: A pilot randomised controlled trial</strong></p><p>S Suliman, S Seedat, J Pingo, T Sutherland, J Zohar, D J Stein</p><p><strong>55. Epigenetic consequences of adverse early social experiences in primates</strong></p><p>S Suomi</p><p><strong>56. Risk, resilience, and gene x environment interactions in primates</strong></p><p>S Suomi</p><p><strong>57. Biological aspects of anorexia nervosa</strong></p><p>C Szabo</p><p><strong>58. Agents used and profiles of non-fatal suicidal behaviour in East London</strong></p><p>H Uys</p><p><strong>59. The contributions of G-protein coupled receptor signalling to opioid dependence</strong></p><p>J van Tonder</p><p><strong>60. Emerging trend and innovation in PTSD and OCD</strong></p><p>J Zohar</p><p><strong>61. Making the SASOP treatment guidelines operational</strong></p><p>E Allers</p><p><strong>Poster Presentations</strong></p><p><strong>62. Neuropsychological deficits in social anxiety disorder in the context of early developmental trauma</strong></p><p><strong></strong>S Bakelaar, D Rosenstein, S Seedat</p><p><strong>63.Social anxiety disorder in patients with or without early childhood trauma: Relationship to behavioral inhibition and activation and quality of life</strong></p><p><strong></strong>S Bakelaar, C Bruijnen, A Sambeth, S Seedat</p><p><strong>64. Exploring altered affective processing in obssessive compulsive disorder symptom subtypes</strong></p><p>E Breet, J Ipser, D Stein, C Lochner<strong><br /></strong></p><p><strong>65. To investigate the bias toward recognising the facial expression of disgust in obsessive compulsive disorder as well as the effect of escitalopram</strong></p><p>E Breet, J Ipser, D Stein, C Lochner</p><p><strong>66. A fatal-case of nevirapine-induced Stevens-Johnson's syndrome in HIV mania</strong></p><p>A Bronkhorst, Z Zingela, W M Qwesha, B P Magigaba<strong></strong></p><p><strong>67. Association of the COMT G472A (met/met) genotype with lower disability in people diagnosed with multiple sclerosis</strong></p><p>W Davis, S J van Rensburg, L Fisher, F J Cronje, D Geiger, M J Kotze</p><p><strong>68. Homocycsteine levels are associated with the fat mass and obesity associated gene FTO(intron 1 T&gt;A) polymorphism in MS patients</strong></p><p>W Davis, S J Van Rensburg, M J Kotze, L Fisher, M Jalali, F J Cronje, K Moremi, J Gamieldien, D Geiger, M Rensburg, R van Toorn, M J de Klerk, G M Hon, T Matsha, S Hassan, R T Erasmus</p><p><strong>69. Analysis of the COMT 472 G&gt;A (rs4680) polymorphism in relation to environmental influences as contributing factors in patients with schizophrenia</strong></p><p>D de Klerk, S J van Rensburg, R A Emsley, D Geiger, M Rensburg, R T Erasmus, M J Kotze</p><p><strong>70. Dietary folate intake, homocysteine levels and MTHFR mutation detection in South African patients with depression: Test development for clinical application </strong></p><p>D Delport, N vand der Merwe, R Schoeman, M J Kotze</p><p><strong>71. The use ofexome sequencing for antipsychotic pharmacogenomic applications in South African schizophrenia patients</strong></p><p>B Drogmoller, D Niehaus, G Wright, B Chiliza, L Asmal, R Emsley, L Warnich</p><p><strong>72. The effects of HIV on the ventral-striatal reward system</strong></p><p>S du Plessis, M Vink, J Joska, E Koutsilieri, C Scheller, B Spottiswoode, D Stein, R Emsley</p><p><strong>73. Xenomelia relates to asymmetrical insular activity: A case study of fMRI</strong></p><p>S du Plessis, M Vink, L Asmal</p><p><strong>74. Maternal mental helath: A prospective naturalistic study of the outcome of pregancy in women with major psychiatric disorders in an African country</strong></p><p>E du Toit, L Koen, D Niehaus, B Vythilingum, E Jordaan, J Leppanen</p><p><strong>75. Prefrontal cortical thinning and subcortical volume decrease in HIV-positive children with encephalopathy</strong></p><p>J P Fouche, B Spottiswoode, K Donald, D Stein, J Hoare</p><p><strong>76. H-magnetic resonance spectroscopy metabolites in schizophrenia</strong></p><p>F Howells, J Hsieh, H Temmingh, D J Stein</p><p><strong>77. Hypothesis for the development of persistent methamphetamine-induced psychosis</strong></p><p><strong></strong> J Hsieh, D J Stein, F M Howells</p><p><strong>78. Culture, religion, spirituality and psychiatric practice: The SASOP Spirituality and Psychiatry Special Interest Group Action Plan for 2012-2014</strong></p><p>B Janse van Rensburg</p><p><strong>79. Cocaine reduces the efficiency of dopamine uptake in a rodent model of attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder: An <em>in vivo</em> electrochemical study</strong></p><p><strong></strong>L Kellaway, J S Womersley, D J Stein, G A Gerhardt, V A Russell</p><p><strong>80. Kleine-Levin syndrome: Case in an adolescent psychiatric unit</strong></p><p>A Lachman</p><p><strong>81. Increased inflammatory stress specific clinical, lifestyle and therapeutic variables in patients receiving treatment for stress, anxiety or depressive symptoms</strong></p><p>H Luckhoff, M Kotze, S Janse van Rensburg, D Geiger</p><p><strong>82. Catatonia: An eight-case series report</strong></p><p>M Mabenge, Z Zingela, S van Wyk</p><p><strong>83. Relationship between anxiety sensitivity and childhood trauma in a random sample of adolescents from secondary schools in Cape Town</strong></p><p>L Martin, M Viljoen, S Seedat</p><p><strong>84. 'Making ethics real'. An overview of an ethics course presented by Fraser Health Ethics Services, BC, Canada</strong></p><p>JJ McCallaghan</p><p><strong>85. Clozapine discontinuation rates in a public healthcare setting</strong></p><p>M Moolman, W Esterhuysen, R Joubert, J C Lamprecht, M S Lubbe</p><p><strong>86. Retrospective review of clozapine monitoring in a publica sector psychiatric hospital and associated clinics</strong></p><p>M Moolman, W Esterhuysen, R Joubert, J C Lamprecht, M S Lubbe</p><p><strong>87. Association of an iron-related TMPRSS6 genetic variant c.2007 C&gt;7 (rs855791) with functional iron deficiency and its effect on multiple sclerosis risk in the South African population</strong></p><p>K Moremi, S J van Rensburg, L R Fisher, W Davis, F J Cronje, M Jalali Sefid Dashti, J Gamieldien, D Geiger, M Rensburg, R van Toorn, M J de Klerk, G M Hon, T Matsha, S Hassan, R T Erasmus, M Kidd, M J Kotze</p><p><strong>88. Identifying molecular mechanisms of apormophine-induced addictive behaviours</strong></p><p>Z Ndlazi, W Daniels, M Mabandla</p><p><strong>89. Effects of lifestyle factors and biochemistry on the major neck blood vessels in patients with mutiple sclerosis</strong></p><p>M Nelson, S J van Rensburg, M J Kotze, F Isaacs, S Hassan</p><p><strong>90. Nicotine protects against dopamine neurodegenration and improves motor deficits in a Parkinsonian rat model</strong></p><p>N Ngema, P Ngema, M Mabandla, W Daniels</p><p><strong>91. Cognition: Probing anatomical substrates</strong></p><p>H Nowbath</p><p><strong>92. Chronic exposure to light reverses the effects of maternal separation on the rat prefrontal cortex</strong></p><p>V Russel, J Dimatelis</p><p><strong>93. Evaluating a new drug to combat Alzheimer's disease</strong></p><p>S Sibiya, W M U Daniels, M V Mabandla</p><p><strong>94. Structural brain changes in HIV-infected women with and without childhood trauma</strong></p><p>G Spies, F Ahmed, C Fennema-Notestine, S Archibald, S Seedat</p><p><strong>95. Nicotine-stimulated release of hippocampal norepinephrine is reduced in an animal model of attention-deficit/ hyperactivity disorder: the spontaneously hypertensive rat</strong></p><p>T Sterley</p><p><strong>96. Brain-derive neurotrophic factor (BDNF) protein levels in anxiety disorders: Systematic review and meta-regression analysis</strong></p><p>S Suliman, S M J Hemmings, S Seedat</p><p><strong>97. A 12-month retrospective audit of the demographic and clinical profile of mental healthcare users admitted to a district level hospital in the Western Cape, South Africa</strong></p><p>E Thomas, K J Cloete, M Kidd, H Lategan</p><p><strong>98. Magnesium recurarization: A comparison between reversal of neuromuscular block with sugammadex v. neostigmine/ glycopyrrolate in an <em>in vivo</em> rat model</strong></p><p><strong></strong>M van den Berg, M F M James, L A Kellaway</p><p><strong>99. Identification of breast cancer patients at increased risk of 'chemobrain': Case study and review of the literature</strong></p><p>N van der Merwe, R Pienaar, S J van Rensburg, J Bezuidenhout, M J Kotze</p><p><strong>100. The protective role of HAART and NAZA in HIV Tat protein-induced hippocampal cell death</strong></p><p>S Zulu, W M U Daniels, M V Mabandla</p>

While there is a rich body of literature regarding attitudes toward the police, longitudinal empirical research on perceptions of police legitimacy among youth offenders is scant. Using data from Pathways to Desistance, a longitudinal study of 1,354 serious juvenile offenders, the current study builds upon the literature by identifying developmental trajectories of perceptions of police legitimacy among serious young offenders by gender. The study used group-based trajectory modeling, which yielded five trajectory groups for males and four trajectory groups for females. Female youth offenders exhibited slight increases in perceptions of police legitimacy, whereas males showed variations in perceptions of police legitimacy across the seven waves. To examine the probability that predictors belong to certain trajectory groups, the average marginal effects from a multinomial logit regression model were calculated. The findings showed that direct and indirect procedural justice and Black were statistically significant predictors of the probability of police legitimacy trajectories for both males and females. Compared with the male youth offenders, among their female counterparts, legal cynicism, self-reported offense, Hispanic, and age were not associated with the probability of each trajectory group. Given our findings and the strong association between the likelihood of offending and perceptions of the police, we suggest that existing early intervention programs may add a curriculum on prosocial attitudes toward the police. The findings also shed light on the significance of gender in the developmental perspective of police legitimacy perceptions among youth offenders.

Background: Women charged with violent offences may be referred by courts for forensic psychiatric assessment to determine whether mental disorder or intellectual disability impacts their fitness to stand trial and/or criminal responsibility. The profile of these women is a poorly researched area in South Africa.Aim: This study examined the socio-demographic, offence-related, and clinical profile of South African women charged with violent offences referred for forensic assessment.Setting: Fort England Hospital (FEH), a forensic psychiatric institution in the Eastern Cape.Methods: The clinical records of 173 women referred by courts for forensic psychiatric evaluation over a 24-year period (1993–2017) to FEH were systematically reviewed.Results: Most women were single, black mothers with dependent children, who were unemployed and socio-economically impoverished. Many had backgrounds of pre-offence mental illness, alcohol use and alleged abuse. The majority were first-time offenders whose victims were known to them. Most child victims were biological children killed by their mothers. Likely primary motives for violence were related to psychopathology in half of cases, and interpersonal conflict in a third. Forensic assessment most frequently confirmed psychotic disorders and dual diagnoses. Half the cases were fit to stand trial and under half were criminally responsible.Conclusion: Violent female offending occurs within a gendered context, with high rates of prior trauma, alcohol use and psychosocial distress in perpetrators. An emphasis on gender-sensitive psychosocial interventions is required.Contribution: This study highlights the nature and context of violent offending by women referred for forensic psychiatric assessment in South Africa.

Abstract According to the Ministry of Justice and Public Security, Brazil is fourth in the world position in relation to the absolute size of female prison population, with 42.000 women deprived of freedom (2016), behind the United States, China and Russia. Around 50% are young (&lt; 29 years old), 62% are black and 66% have not yet attended high school. This study aimed to characterize the profile of women incarcerated in a penitentiary in the interior of Brazil, through the survey of sociodemographic data, education, health, legal and life expectations. This is a descriptive and exploratory study conducted with 68 women (20 to 67 years old) in 2019 and 2020. Most women declared themselves black or brown (56%), incomplete elementary school (42%), have work experience (73%). Around 69% reported needing health treatment and 76% have already used psychoactive substances including alcohol, cigarettes, marijuana, cocaine or crack. The main reasons that led to the arrest were drug trafficking (54%) and theft (26%) and the majority (53%) are repeat offenders in prison system. Regarding the biggest dream of life, the main answers were related to family life (44%), having a job (26%) and access to education (20%). With these results, an extension project was proposed to offer a professional qualification in vegetable gardens, aromatic and medicinal plants for women prisoners. In addition to professional qualification, the project is dedicated to promoting debates on map of life, ethics, human relations, citizenship, gender, women's rights and health, quality of life, body and verbal expression, digital inclusion, food and nutrition security, entrepreneurship, cooperativism, solidary economy, rights and duties of the worker, aiming at better employment conditions. This research contributed to articulate actions between university and society, empower women through access to education and allowed the work team to develop competencies related to collaborative work and interdisciplinarity. Key messages This study aimed to characterize the profile of women incarcerated in a penitentiary in Brazil, through the survey of sociodemographic data, education, health, legal and life expectations. This research contributed to articulate actions between university-society, empower incarcerated women through access to education and allowed the work team collaborative and interdisciplinarity work.

Using a feminist pathways general strain perspective, we explore the victim–offender continuum for women who perpetrated intimate partner violence/abuse (IPV/A). We use data from 86 women court-mandated to “female offender” domestic violence treatment programs, located in an American East Coast state, who were surveyed about their adverse childhood experiences and mental health/well-being as adults. Findings from bivariate linear regressions indicate childhood trauma negatively affects adult mental health/well-being, exacerbated for Black Indigenous People of Color women, suggesting a victim rather than an offender categorization for women using force against their abusive partner. Results imply the need to consider women's traumatic histories and IPV/A victimization, given an incident-driven system that criminalizes victimization over the life course.

In 2015, South Carolina passed the Domestic Violence Reform Act giving officers increased arrest discretion and rescinding mandatory arrest laws for intimate partner violence (IPV). Analyses using incident reports (2016/2017) from South Carolina show that officers primarily rely on the presence of five variables to determine arrest: children, injury, property destruction, offender at scene, and weapons. Cases with Black female victims are more likely to result in arrest, suggesting that Black males are being criminalized. We conclude that officers are reluctant to use individual discretion and rely on a form of structured discretion provided by administrators that shapes local culture and decision-making.

Violence is a global public health problem that affects especially the most vulnerable people. The aim was to analyze the prevalence of psychological violence in the Brazilian population and inequalities according to sex and skin color. This was a cross-sectional study in which the database of the National Health Survey 2019 was used. Psychological violence was considered present when an individual answered yes to at least one of the five variables investigated: In the last 12 months, has anyone (a) offended you, humiliated you, or ridiculed you in front of other people?; (b) yelled at you or called you names?; (c) used social media or cell phones to threaten, offend, curse, or expose your images without your consent?; (d) threatened to hurt you or hurt someone important to you?; and (e) destroyed something of yours on purpose? The independent variable was skin color. The crude prevalence ratio (PR) was determined by Poisson regression. All analyses were stratified by sex. Of the 88,531 respondents, 41,662 were males and 46,869 were females. The prevalence of the presence of psychological violence was 19% in women and 15.6% in men. Men and women with black/brown/yellow/indigenous skin color were 20% and 15% more likely to suffer one or more items of psychological violence, respectively, than men and women with white skin color ( PR = 1.20; 95% CI [1.11, 1.30] and PR = 1.15; 95% CI [1.08, 1.23]). Psychological violence occurred predominantly against females and individuals with black/brown/yellow/indigenous skin color. There were notable inequalities in the exposure to this type of violence that need to be considered when making plans to address this problem. The findings emphasize the relevance of constantly reviewing political and social constructions to promote a reduction of inequalities.

Abstract Research Question Can police increase victim satisfaction and improve efficiency by providing consenting domestic abuse victims, if their offenders are not present, with an immediate video link to a uniformed police officer, rather than waiting for face-to-face police attendance? Data Eligible and consenting cases for this block-randomised trial (N =517) included 357 calls from female victims of intimate partner violence (FIPV), 57 calls from female victims of non-IPV abuse, 83 calls from male victims of IPV and 21 calls from male victims of non-IPV abuse. Cases were screened for eligibility before police call takers asked all callers for consent to a video meeting with a police officer (if one was available for random assignment). Methods Consenting callers (560 of 749 of eligible callers = 75%) agreed to be randomly assigned to either ‘business as usual’ (BAU) for such calls or a rapid video response (RVR), by immediate transfer of their call to a uniformed police officer visible on a video link (to whom the victim was also visible); only 69% (517 of 749) were randomly assigned due to limited RVR availability. Follow-up interviews with all 511 assigned callers consenting to interviews (99% of those assigned) were completed with 80.5 % (N = 416) of those callers across both treatment groups, with 82.2% in RVR and 78.7% in BAU, and near identical rates for female IPV victims as for the combined samples. Official records on arrest and other short-term case outcomes were also collected. Data were analysed in four blocks of separate random assignment sequences for each of the categories of callers. Across all four blocks combined, 94% of the RVR-assigned victims received a completed RVR resolution; 67% of the BAU victims received a face-to-face contact with a police officer, with other BAU responses by voice phone but not video. Findings Rapid video response (RVR) to these calls was an average of 656 times faster in responding to the victims (3 min) than the average BAU time for trying to deploy a police car (1969 min). RVR clearly produced higher victim satisfaction among female IPV victims (89% in the RVR group) compared to control victims (78% in the BAU group) (p=0.01). Arrest rates for suspects were 50% higher in the RVR group (24%) relative to the BAU group (16%), with three times more arrests during follow-up investigations on RVR cases. Trust and confidence in the police improved more for abuse victims receiving RVR than those receiving BAU. Conclusions In this test, RVR helped domestic abuse victims far more rapidly than BAU. The innovation improved domestic abuse victims’ satisfaction, and their trust and confidence in the police, who made more arrests after RVR than BAU. Based on these conclusions, Kent Police have launched RVR county-wide as a new standard offering for domestic abuse victims to select.

Involuntarily celibate men (Incels) form online communities in which they “often bemoan their lack of a loving relationship with a woman while simultaneously dehumanizing women and calling for misogynistic violence” (Glace et al., 2021, p. 288). Several studies investigate this dehumanization and misogyny including (gendered) hate speech in online comments from Incels (e.g., Glace et al., 2021). However, not all online comments from Incels contain misogyny or gendered hate speech. To get a better understanding of the phenomenon of Incels, it would be better to not only focus on these problematic comments. Thus, we propose a new construct called “Online Incel speech”, which is defined as the sum of all online comments from Incels that are related to Inceldom, that is, being or becoming an Incel. In an approach to provide an extensive system of categorization, Grau Chopite (2022) synthesized codebooks from several studies on Incels (see example studies table note) and put it to an empirical test. She found that most Incel comments found online can be categorized into three subdimensions. The first two subdimensions cover framing by Incels, namely how Incels frame the subjective causes of becoming an Incel and how they frame the subjective emotional consequences of being an Incel. Both subdimensions can also be interpreted as part of a subjective theory (sensu Groeben et al., 1988) of Inceldom. In contrast to this, the third subdimension does not consist of framing, but of observable verbal behaviors, which are often linked to gendered hate speech. When trying to categorize online comments from Incels, former studies often applied the construct “Hybrid Masculinities” (e.g., Glace et al, 2021). This construct from Bridge and Pascoe (2014) suggests that “some men develop masculinities which appear to subvert, but actually reaffirm, White hegemonic masculinities” (Glace et al., 2021, p. 289). Glace et al. (2021) structure the construct into three subdimensions, namely (1) discursive distancing (claiming distance from hegemonic masculine roles without actually relinquishing masculine power), (2) strategic borrowing (appropriating the cultures of nondominant groups of men), and (3) fortifying boundaries (continually using hegemonic standards to constrain masculinity and demeaning men who fail to meet them). However, the construct only covers a part of Inceldom, which Glace et al. (2021) indirectly acknowledge by adding two inductive categories, that is, hostile sexism (shaming and degrading women) and suicidality (reporting suicidal thoughts, feelings, and intentions). Field of application/theoretical foundation: The construct “Online Incel speech” was coined by Grau Chopite (2022), and there are currently no other studies making use of it. However, there are studies (e.g., Vu & Lynn, 2020; also see the entry “Frames (Automated Content Analysis”) based on the framing theory by Entman (1991) where the subdimension “subjective causes” would correspond to Entman’s “causal interpretation frame”, while the “subjective emotional consequences” would correspond to Entman’s “problem definition frame”. The “subjective causes” also correspond to the “discursive distancing” and the “emotional consequences” to “suicidality” in the construct of Hybrid Masculinities. The third subdimension “verbal behavior” corresponds to gendered online hate speech (e.g., Döring & Mohseni, 2019), but also to “hostile sexism” and “fortifying boundaries” in the construct of Hybrid Masculinities. References/combination with other methods: The study by Grau Chopite (2022) employs a quantitative manual content analysis using a deductive approach. Studies based on the construct of Hybrid Masculinities also employ manual online content analyses or manual thematic analyses, but those are often qualitative in nature (e.g., Glace et al., 2021). Framing is also often assessed with manual content analyses (e.g., Nitsch & Lichtenstein, 2019), but newer studies try to assess it computationally (e.g., Vu & Lynn, 2020). Hate speech is often assessed with manual content analyses (e.g., Döring & Mohseni, 2019) and surveys (e.g., Oksanen et al., 2014), but some newer studies try to assess it computationally (e.g., Al-Hassan & Al-Dossari, 2019). As Online Incel Speech is related to framing and gendered hate speech, it seems plausible that manual content analyses of Online Incel Speech could be combined with computational analyses, too, to enable the investigation of large samples. However, computational analyses of subtle forms of verbal behavior can be challenging because the number of wrong categorizations increases (e.g., for sexism detection see Samory et al., 2021; for hate speech detection see Ruiter et al., 2022). Example studies: Example study Construct Dimensions Explanation Reliability Online Incel speech Grau Chopite (2022) Subjective Causes of Inceldom Race/Ethnicity having certain racial features and/or belonging to a certain ethnic κ = .55;AC1 = .80 Mental Health suffering from any mental health issue κ = .58;AC1 = .90 Employment difficulties with getting and/or maintaining employment; experiencing dissatisfaction in the workplace κ = .85;AC1 = .98 Family having family issues (e.g., an abusive family member) κ = .66;AC1 = .98 Subjective Emotional Consequences of Inceldom Hopelessness expressing hopelessness κ = .37;AC1 = .89 Sadness expressing sadness κ = .26;AC1 = .91 Suicidality expressing suicidality κ = .24;AC1 = .95 Anger expressing anger κ = .44;AC1 = .87 Hatred expressing hatred κ = .40;AC1 = .83 Verbal Behavior of Incels Using Gendered Hate Speech Against Women hostile sexism against women and misogynistic speech κ = .80;AC1 = .87 Adopting Social Justice Language claiming unfairness/ injustice of being discriminated by society or groups (e.g., other men, other races) κ = .48;AC1 = .82 Claiming Lack of Masculine Traits lacking masculine traits (e.g., muscles, a big penis) κ = .62;AC1 = .86 Shaming Other Men shaming of other men directly by calling them terms related to being “effeminate” or “unmanly” κ = .71;AC1 = .91 Claiming Lack of Female Interest being unable to attract women or being rejected by women κ = .61;AC1 = .87 Hybrid Masculinities Glace et al. (2021) Discursive Distancing Lack of Female Interest claiming a lack of ability to attract female romantic companionship and sexual interest n/a Lack of Masculine Traits claiming a lack of traditionally attractive masculine physical traits n/a Strategic Borrowing Race and Racism appropriating the culture of racial and ethnic minority men n/a Social Justice Language using the language of the marginalized to diminish one’s own position of power n/a Fortifying Boundaries Soyboys deriding non-Incel men as weak and desperate n/a Cucks deriding non-Incel men as being cheated or exploited by women n/a Hostile Sexism Women are Ugly deriding women for being unattractive n/a Slut-Shaming deriding women for having sex n/a False Rape Claims claiming that women make false rape claims (e.g., when approached by an Incel) n/a Women’s Only Value is Sex claiming that women’s only value is their sexuality n/a Women are Subhuman dehumanizing women n/a Suicidality Due to Incel Experience attributing suicidal thoughts, feelings, and intentions to Incel status n/a The “Clown World” claiming that the world is meaningless and nonsensical n/a Note: The codebook from Grau Chopite (2022) is based on the codebook and findings of Glace et al. (2021) and other studies (Baele et al., 2019; Bou-Franch & Garcés-Conejos Blitvich, 2021; Bridges & Pascoe, 2014; Cottee, 2020; Döring & Mohseni, 2019; D’Souza et al., 2018; Marwick & Caplan, 2018; Mattheis & Waltman, 2021; Maxwell et al., 2020; Rogers et al., 2015; Rouda & Siegel, 2020; Scaptura & Boyle, 2019; Williams & Arntfield, 2020; Williams et al., 2021). Gwet’s AC1 was calculated in addition to Cohen’s Kappa because some categories were rarely coded, which biases Cohen’s Kappa. The codebook is available at http://doi.org/10.23668/psycharchives.5626 References Al-Hassan, A., & Al-Dossari, Hmood (2019). Detection of hate speech in social networks: A survey on multilingual corpus. In D. Nagamalai & D. C. Wyld (Eds.), Computer Science & Information Technology. Proceedings of the 6th International Conference on Computer Science and Information Technology (pp. 83–100). AIRCC Publishing. doi:10.5121/csit.2019.90208 Baele, S. J., Brace, L., & Coan, T. G. (2019). From “Incel” to “Saint”: Analyzing the violent worldview behind the 2018 Toronto attack. Terrorism and Political Violence, 1–25. doi:10.1080/09546553.2019.1638256 Bou-Franch, P., & Garcés-Conejos Blitvich, P. (2021). Gender ideology and social identity processes in online language aggression against women. In R. M. DeKeyser (Ed.), Benjamins Current Topics: Vol. 116. Aptitude-Treatment Interaction in Second Language Learning (Vol. 86, pp. 59–81). John Benjamins Publishing Company. doi:10.1075/bct.86.03bou Bridges, T., & Pascoe, C. J. (2014). Hybrid masculinities: New directions in the sociology of men and masculinities. Sociology Compass, 8(3), 246–258. doi:10.1111/soc4.12134 Cottee, S. (2021). Incel (e)motives: Resentment, shame and revenge. Studies in Conflict & Terrorism, 44(2), 93–114. doi:10.1080/1057610X.2020.1822589 Döring, N., & Mohseni, M. R. (2018). Male dominance and sexism on YouTube: Results of three content analyses. Feminist Media Studies, 19(4), 512–524. doi:10.1080/14680777.2018.1467945 D'Souza, T., Griffin, L., Shackelton, N., & Walt, D. (2018). Harming women with words: The failure of Australian law to prohibit gendered hate speech. University of New South Wales Law Journal, 41(3), 939–976. Entman, R. M. 1991. Framing U.S. coverage of international news: contrasts in narratives of the KAL and Iran Air incidents. Journal of Communication, 41(4), 6-7. Glace, A. M., Dover, T. L., & Zatkin, J. G. (2021). Taking the black pill: An empirical analysis of the “Incel”. Psychology of Men & Masculinities, 22(2), 288–297. doi:10.1037/men0000328 Grau Chopite, J. (2022). Framing of Inceldom on incels.is: A content analysis [Master’s thesis, TU Ilmenau]. Psycharchives. doi:10.23668/psycharchives.5626 Groeben, N., Wahl, D., Schlee, J., & Scheele, B. (Eds.). (1988). Das Forschungsprogramm Subjektive Theorien: eine Einführung in die Psychologie des reflexiven Subjekts. Francke. Retrieved from https://nbn-resolving.org/urn:nbn:de:0168-ssoar-27658 Marwick, A. E., & Caplan, R. (2018). Drinking male tears: language, the manosphere, and networked harassment. Feminist Media Studies, 18(4), 543–559. doi:10.1080/14680777.2018.1450568 Mattheis, A. A., & Waltman, M. S. (2021). Gendered hate online. In K. Ross & I. Bachmann (Eds.), The Wiley Blackwell-ICA international encyclopedias of communication. The international encyclopedia of gender, media, and communication (pp. 1–5). John Wiley & Sons Inc. doi:10.1002/9781119429128.iegmc019 Maxwell, D., Robinson, S. R., Williams, J. R., & Keaton, C. (2020). “A short story of a lonely guy”: A qualitative thematic analysis of involuntary celibacy using Reddit. Sexuality & Culture, 24(6), 1852–1874. doi:10.1007/s12119-020-09724-6 Nitsch, C. & Lichtenstein, D. (2019). Satirizing international crises. The depiction of the Ukraine, Greek debt and migration crises in political satire. Studies in Communication Science (SComS), 19(1), 85-103. doi:10.24434/j.scoms.2019.01.007 Oksanen, A., Hawdon, J., Holkeri, E., Näsi, M., & Räsänen, P. (2014). Exposure to online hate among young social media users. In N. Warehime (Ed.), Soul of Society: A focus on the lives of children & youth (p. 253-273). doi:10.1108/S1537-466120140000018021 Rogers, D. L., Cervantes, E., & Espinosa, J. C. (2015). Development and validation of the belief in female sexual deceptiveness scale. Journal of Interpersonal Violence, 30(5), 744–761. doi:10.1177/0886260514536282 Rouda, B., & Siegel, A. (2020). I’d kill for a girl like that”: The black pill and the Incel uprising. International Multidisciplinary Program in the Humanities, Tel Aviv University. Retrieved from https://www.academia.edu/43663741/_Id_kill_for_a_girl_like_that_The_Black_Pill_and_the_Incel_Uprising Ruiter, D., Reiners, L., Geet D’Sa, A., Kleinbauer, Th., Fohr, D., Illina, I., Klakow. D., Schemer, Ch., & Monnier, A. (2022). Placing m-phasis on the plurality of hate. A feature-based corpus of hate online. Preprint. Retrieved from https://doi.org/10.48550/arXiv.2204.13400 Samory, M., Sen, I., Kohne, J., Flöck, F., & Wagner, C. (2021). “Call me sexist, but...”: Revisiting sexism detection using psychological scales and adversarial samples. Proceedings of the International AAAI Conference on Web and Social Media, 15(1), 573-584. Retrieved from https://ojs.aaai.org/index.php/ICWSM/article/view/18085 Scaptura, M. N., & Boyle, K. M. (2019). Masculinity threat, “Incel” traits, and violent fantasies among heterosexual men in the United States. Feminist Criminology, 15(3), 278–298. doi:10.1177/1557085119896415 Vu, H. T., & Lynn, N. (2020). When the news takes sides: Automated framing analysis of news coverage of the Rohingya crisis by the elite press from three countries. Journalism Studies. Online first publication. doi:10.1080/1461670X.2020.1745665 Williams, D. J., & Arntfield, M. (2020). Extreme sex-negativity: An examination of helplessness, hopelessness, and misattribution of blame among “Incel” multiple homicide offenders. Journal of Positive Sexuality, 6(1), 33–42. doi:10.51681/1.613 Williams, D. J., Arntfield, M., Schaal, K., & Vincent, J. (2021). Wanting sex and willing to kill: Examining demographic and cognitive characteristics of violent "involuntary celibates". Behavioral Sciences & the Law, 39(4), 386–401. doi:10.1002/bsl.2512

The advent of the #MeToo movement and the scale of participation in 85 countries (Gill and Orgad; see Google Trends) has greatly expanded debate about the revival of feminism (Winch Littler and Keeler) and the contribution of digital media to a “reconfiguration” of feminism (Jouet). Insofar as these campaigns are concerned with sexual harassment and related forms of sexual abuse, the longer history of sexual harassment in which this practice was named by women’s movement activists in the 1970s has gone largely unremarked except in the broad sense of the recharging or “techno-echo[es]” (Jouet) of earlier “waves” of feminism. However, #MeToo and its companion movement #TimesUp, and its fighting fund timesupnow.org, stemmed directly from the allegations in 2017 against the media mogul Harvey Weinstein by Hollywood professionals and celebrities. The naming of prominent, powerful men as harassers and the celebrity sphere of activism have become features of #MeToo that warrant comparison with the naming of sexual harassment in the earlier era of feminism.While the practices it named were not new, the term “sexual harassment” was new, and it became a defining issue in second wave feminism that was conceptualised within the continuum of sexual violence. I outline this history, and how it transformed the private, individual experiences of many women into a shared public consciousness about sexual coercion in the workplace, and some of the debate that this generated within the women’s movement at the time. It offers scope to compare the threshold politics of naming names in the 21st century, and its celebrity vanguard which has led to some ambivalence about the lasting impact. For Kathy Davis (in Zarkov and Davis), for instance, it is atypical of the collective goals of second wave feminism.In comparing the two eras, Anita Hill’s claims against Clarence Thomas in the early 1990s is a bridging incident. It dates from closer to the time in which sexual harassment was named, and Hill’s testimony is now recognised as a prototype of the kinds of claims made against powerful men in the #MeToo era. Lauren Berlant’s account of “Diva Citizenship”, formulated in response to Hill’s testimony to the US Senate, now seems prescient of the unfolding spectacle of feminist subjectivities in the digital public sphere and speaks directly to the relation between individual and collective action in making lasting change. The possibility of change, however, descends from the intervention of the women’s movement in naming sexual harassment.The Name Is AllI found my boss in a room ... . He was alone ... . He greeted me ... touched my hair and ... said ... “Come, Ruth, sit down here.” He motioned to his knee. I felt my face flush. I backed away towards the door ... . Then he rose ... and ... put his hand into his pocket, took out a roll of bills, counted off three dollars, and brought it over to me at the door. “Tell your father,” he said, “to find you a new shop for tomorrow morning.” (Cohen 129)Sexual coercion in the workplace, such as referred to in this workplace novel published in 1918, was spoken about among women in subcultures and gossip long before it was named as sexual harassment. But it had no place in public discourse. Women’s knowledge of sexual harassment coalesced in an act of naming that is reputed to have occurred in a consciousness raising group in New York at the height of the second wave women’s movement. Lin Farley lays claim to it in her book, Sexual Shakedown, first published in 1978, in describing the coinage of the term from a workshop on women and work in 1974 at Cornell University. The group of participants was made up, she says, of near equal numbers of black and white women with “economic backgrounds ranging from very affluent to poor” (11). She describes how, “when we had finished, there was an unmistakable pattern to our employment ... . Each one of us had already quit or been fired from a job at least once because we had been made too uncomfortable by the behaviour of men” (11–12). She claims to have later devised the term “sexual harassment” in collaboration with others from this group (12).The naming of sexual harassment has been described as a kind of “discovery” (Leeds TUCRIC 1) and possibly “the only concept of sexual violence to be labelled by women themselves” (Hearn et al. 20). Not everyone agrees that Farley’s group first coined the term (see Herbert 1989) and there is some evidence that it was in use from the early 1970s. Catherine Mackinnon accredits its first use to the Working Women United Institute in New York in connection with the case of Carmita Wood in 1975 (25). Yet Farley’s account gained authority and is cited in several other contemporary radical feminist works (for instance, see Storrie and Dykstra 26; Wise and Stanley 48), and Sexual Shakedown can now be listed among the iconic feminist manifestoes of the second wave era.The key insight of Farley’s book was that sexual coercion in the workplace was more than aberrant behaviour by individual men but was systemic and organised. She suggests how the phrase sexual harassment “is the first verbal description of women’s feelings about this behaviour and it unstintingly conveys a negative perception of male aggression in the workplace” (32). Others followed in seeing it as organised expression of male power that functions “to keep women out of non-traditional occupations and to reinforce their secondary status in the workplace” (Pringle 93), a wisdom that is now widely accepted but seemed radical at the time.A theoretical literature on sexual harassment grew rapidly from the 1970s in which the definition of sexual harassment was a key element. In Sexual Shakedown, Farley defines it with specific connection to the workplace and a woman’s “function as worker” (33). Some definitions attempted to cover a range of practices that “might threaten a woman’s job security or create a stressful or intimidating working environment” ranging from touching to rape (Sedley and Benn 6). In the wider radical feminist discussion, sexual harassment was located within the “continuum of sexual violence”, a paradigm that highlighted the links between “every day abuses” and “less common experiences labelled as crimes” (Kelly 59). Accordingly, it was seen as a diminished category of rape, termed “little rape” (Bularzik 26), or a means whereby women are “reminded” of the “ever present threat of rape” (Rubinstein 165).The upsurge of research and writing served to document the prevalence and history of sexual harassment. Radical feminist accounts situated the origins in the long-standing patriarchal assumption that economic responsibility for women is ultimately held by men, and how “women forced to earn their own living in the past were believed to be defenceless and possibly immoral” (Rubinstein 166). Various accounts highlighted the intersecting effects of racism and sexism in the experience of black women, and women of colour, in a way that would be now termed intersectional. Jo Dixon discussed black women’s “least advantaged position in the economy coupled with the legacy of slavery” (164), while, in Australia, Linda Rubinstein describes the “sexual exploitation of aboriginal women employed as domestic servants on outback stations” which was “as common as the better documented abuse of slaves in the American South” (166).In The Sexual Harassment of Working Women, Catherine Mackinnon provided a pioneering legal argument that sexual harassment was a form of sex discrimination. She defined two types: the quid pro quo, when “sexual compliance is exchanged, or proposed to be exchanged, for an employment opportunity” (32); and sexual harassment as a “persistent condition of work” that “simply makes the work environment unbearable” (40). Thus the feminist histories of sexual harassment became detailed and strategic. The naming of sexual harassment was a moment of relinquishing women’s experience to the gaze of feminism and the bureaucratic gaze of the state, and, in the legal interventions that followed, it ceased to be exclusively a feminist issue.In Australia, a period of bureaucratisation and state intervention commenced in the late 1970s that corresponded with similar legislative responses abroad. The federal Sex Discrimination Act was amended in 1984 to include a definition of sexual harassment, and State and Territory jurisdictions also framed legislation pertaining to sexual harassment (see Law Council of Australia). The regimes of redress were linked with Equal Opportunity and Affirmative Action frameworks and were of a civil order. Under the law, there was potential for employers to be found vicariously liable for sexual harassment.In the women’s movement, legislative strategies were deemed reformist. Radical and socialist feminists perceived the de-gendering effects of these policies in the workplace that risked collusion with the state. Some argued that naming and defining sexual harassment denies that women constantly deal with a range of harassment anywhere, not only in the workplace (Wise and Stanley 10); while others argued that reformist approaches effectively legitimate other forms of sex discrimination not covered by legislation (Game and Pringle 290). However, in feminism and in the policy realm, the debate concerned sexual harassment in the general workplace. In contrast to #MeToo, it was not led by celebrity voices, nor galvanised by incidents in the sphere of entertainment, nor, by and large, among figures of public office, except for a couple of notable exceptions, including Anita Hill.The “Spectacle of Subjectivity” in the “Scene of Public Life”Through the early 1990s as an MA candidate at the University of Queensland, I studied media coverage of sexual harassment cases, clipping newspapers and noting electronic media reports on a daily basis. These mainly concerned incidents in government sector workplaces or small commercial enterprises. While the public prominence of the parties involved was not generally a factor in reportage, occasionally, prominent individuals were affected, such as the harassment of the athlete Michelle Baumgartner at the Commonwealth Games in 1990 which received extensive coverage but the offenders were never publicly named or disciplined. Two other incidents stand out: the Ormond College case at the University of Melbourne, about which much has been written; and Anita Hill’s claims against Clarence Thomas during his nomination to the US Supreme Court in 1991.The spectacle of Hill’s testimony to the US Senate is now an archetype of claims against powerful men, although, at the time, her credibility was attacked and her dignified presentation was criticised as “too composed. Too cool. Too censorious” (Legge 31). Hill was also seen to counterpose the struggles of race and gender, and Thomas himself famously described it as “a hi-tech lynching of an uppity black” (qtd in Stephens 1). By “hi-tech”, Thomas alluded to the occasion of the first-ever live national broadcast of the United States Senate hearings in which Hill’s claims were aired directly to the national public, and re-broadcast internationally in news coverage. Thus, it was not only the claims but the scale and medium of delivery to a global audience that set it apart from other sexual harassment stories.Recent events have since prompted revisiting of the inequity of Hill’s treatment at the Senate hearings. But well before this, in an epic and polemical study of American public culture, Berlant reflected at length on the heroism of Hill’s “witnessing” as paradigmatic of citizenship in post-Reaganite America’s “shrinking” public sphere. It forms part of her much wider thesis regarding the “intimate public sphere” and the form of citizenship “produced by personal acts and values” (5) in the absence of a context that “makes ordinary citizens feel they have a common public culture, or influence on a state” (3), and in which the fundamental inequality of minority cultures is assumed. For Berlant, Hill’s testimony becomes the model of “Diva Citizenship”; the “strange intimacy” in which the Citizen Diva, “the subordinated person”, believes in the capacity of the privileged ones “to learn and to change” and “trust[s] ... their innocence of ... their obliviousness” of the system that has supported her subjugation (222–223). While Berlant’s thesis pertains to profound social inequalities, there is no mistaking the comparison to the digital feminist in the #MeToo era in the call to identify with her suffering and courage.Of Hill’s testimony, Berlant describes how: “a member of a stigmatised population testifies reluctantly to a hostile public the muted and anxious history of her imperiled citizenship” (222). It is an “act of heroic pedagogy” (223) which occurs when “a person stages a dramatic coup in a public sphere in which she does not have privilege” (223). In such settings, “acts of language can feel like explosives” and put “the dominant story into suspended animation” (223). The Diva Citizen cannot “change the world” but “challenges her audience” to identify with her “suffering” and the “courage she has had to produce” in “calling on people to change the practices of citizenship into which they currently consent” (223). But Berlant cautions that the strongest of Divas cannot alone achieve change because “remaking the scene of public life into a spectacle of subjectivity” can lead to “a confusion of ... memorable rhetorical performance with sustained social change itself” (223). Instead, she argues that the Diva’s act is a call; the political obligation for the action of change lies with the collective, the greater body politic.The EchoIf Acts of Diva Citizenship abound in the #MeToo movement, relations between the individual and the collective are in question in a number of ways. This suggests a basis of comparison between past and present feminisms which have come full circle in the renewed recognition of sexual harassment in the continuum of sexual violence. Compared with the past, the voices of #MeToo are arguably empowered by a genuine, if gradual, change in the symbolic status of women, and a corresponding destabilization of the images of male power since the second wave era of feminism. The one who names an abuser on Twitter symbolises a power of individual courage, backed by a responding collective voice of supporters. Yet there are concerns about who can “speak out” without access to social media or with the constraint that “the sanctions would be too great” (Zarkov and Davis). Conversely, the “spreadability” — as Jenkins, Ford and Green term the travelling properties of digital media — and the apparent relative ease of online activism might belie the challenge and courage of those who make the claims and those who respond.The collective voice is also allied with other grassroots movements like SlutWalk (Jouet), the women’s marches in the US against the Trump presidency, and the several national campaigns — in India and Egypt, for instance (Zarkov and Davis) — that contest sexual violence and gender inequality. The “sheer numbers” of participation in #MeToo testify to “the collectivity of it all” and the diversity of the movement (Gill and Orgad). If the #MeToo hashtag gained traction with the “experiences of white heterosexual women in the US”, it “quickly expanded” due to “broad and inclusive appeal” with stories of queer women and men and people of colour well beyond the Global North. Even so, Tarana Burke, who founded the #MeToo hashtag in 2006 in her campaign of social justice for working class women and girls of colour, and endorsed its adoption by Hollywood, highlights the many “untold stories”.More strikingly, #MeToo participants name the names of the alleged harassers. The naming of names, famous names, is threshold-crossing and as much the public-startling power of the disclosures as the allegations and stimulates newsworthiness in conventional media. The resonance is amplified in the context of the American crisis over the Trump presidency in the sense that the powerful men called out become echoes or avatars of Trump’s monstrous manhood and the urgency of denouncing it. In the case of Harvey Weinstein, the name is all. A figure of immense power who symbolised an industry, naming Weinstein blew away the defensive old Hollywood myths of “casting couches” and promised, perhaps idealistically, the possibility for changing a culture and an industrial system.The Hollywood setting for activism is the most striking comparison with second wave feminism. A sense of contradiction emerges in this new “visibility” of sexual harassment in a culture that remains predominantly “voyeuristic” and “sexist” (Karkov and Davis), and not least in the realm of Hollywood where the sexualisation of women workers has long been a notorious open secret. A barrage of Hollywood feminism has accompanied #MeToo and #TimesUp in the campaign for diversity at the Oscars, and the stream of film remakes of formerly all-male narrative films that star all-female casts (Ghostbusters; Oceans 11; Dirty, Rotten Scoundrels). Cynically, this trend to make popular cinema a public sphere for gender equality in the film industry seems more glorifying than subversive of Hollywood masculinities. Uneasily, it does not overcome those lingering questions about why these conditions were uncontested openly for so long, and why it took so long for someone to go public, as Rose McGowan did, with claims about Harvey Weinstein.However, a reading of She Said, by Jodie Kantor and Megan Tuohey, the journalists who broke the Weinstein story in the New York Times — following their three year efforts to produce a legally water-tight report — makes clear that it was not for want of stories, but firm evidence and, more importantly, on-the-record testimony. If not for their (and others’) fastidious journalism and trust-building and the Citizen Divas prepared to disclose their experiences publicly, Weinstein might not be convicted today. Yet without the naming of the problem of sexual harassment in the women’s movement all those years ago, none of this may have come to pass. Lin Farley can now be found on YouTube retelling the story (see “New Mexico in Focus”).It places the debate about digital activism and Hollywood feminism in some perspective and, like the work of journalists, it is testament to the symbiosis of individual and collective effort in the action of change. The tweeting activism of #MeToo supplements the plenum of knowledge and action about sexual harassment across time: the workplace novels, the consciousness raising, the legislation and the poster campaigns. In different ways, in both eras, this literature demonstrates that names matter in calling for change on sexual harassment. But, if #MeToo is to become the last long take on sexual harassment, then, as Berlant advocates, the responsibility lies with the body politic who must act collectively for change in ways that will last well beyond the courage of the Citizen Divas who so bravely call it on.ReferencesBerlant, Lauren. The Queen of America Goes to Washington City: Essays on Sex and Citizenship. 1997. Durham: Duke UP, 2002.Bularzik, Mary. “Sexual Harassment at the Workplace: Historical Notes.” Radical America 12.4 (1978): 25-43.Cohen, Rose. Out of the Shadow. NY: Doran, 1918.Dixon, Jo. “Feminist Reforms of Sexual Coercion Laws.” Sexual Coercion: A Sourcebook on Its Nature, Causes and Prevention. Eds. Elizabeth Grauerholz and Mary A. Karlewski. Massachusetts: Lexington, 1991. 161-171.Farley, Lin. Sexual Shakedown: The Sexual Harassment of Women in the Working World. London: Melbourne House, 1978.Game, Ann, and Rosemary Pringle. “Beyond Gender at Work: Secretaries.” Australian Women: New Feminist Perspectives. Melbourne: Oxford UP, 1986. 273–91.Gill, Rosalind, and Shani Orgad. “The Shifting Terrain of Sex and Power: From the ‘Sexualisation of Culture’ to #MeToo.” Sexualities 21.8 (2018): 1313–1324. <https://doi-org.elibrary.jcu.edu.au/10.1177/1363460718794647>.Google Trends. “Me Too Rising: A Visualisation of the Movement from Google Trends.” 2017–2020. <https://metoorising.withgoogle.com>.Hearn, Jeff, Deborah Shepherd, Peter Sherrif, and Gibson Burrell. The Sexuality of Organization. London: Sage, 1989.Herbert, Carrie. Talking of Silence: The Sexual Harassment of Schoolgirls. London: Falmer, 1989.Jenkins, Henry, Sam Ford, and Joshua Green. Spreadable Media: Creating Value and Meaning in a Networked Culture. New York: New York UP, 2013.Jouet, Josiane. “Digital Feminism: Questioning the Renewal of Activism.” Journal of Research in Gender Studies 8.1 (2018). 1 Jan. 2018. <http://dx.doi.org.elibrary.jcu.edu.au/10.22381/JRGS8120187>.Kantor, Jodi, and Megan Twohey. She Said: Breaking the Sexual Harassment Story That Helped Ignite a Movement. London: Bloomsbury, 2019.Kelly, Liz. “The Continuum of Sexual Violence.” Women, Violence, and Social Control. Eds. Jalna Hanmer and Mary Maynard. London: MacMillan, 1989. 46–60.Legge, Kate. “The Harassment of America.” Weekend Australian 19–20 Oct. 1991: 31.Mackinnon, Catherine. The Sexual Harassment of Working Women. New Haven: Yale UP, 1979.New Mexico in Focus, a Production of NMPBS. 26 Jan. 2018. <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlO5PiwZk8U>.Pringle, Rosemary. Secretaries Talk. Sydney: Allen and Unwin, 1988.Rubinstein, Linda. “Dominance Eroticized: Sexual Harassment of Working Women.” Worth Her Salt. Eds. Margaret Bevege, Margaret James, and Carmel Shute. Sydney: Hale and Iremonger, 1982. 163–74.Sedley, Ann, and Melissa Benn. Sexual Harassment at Work. London: NCCL Rights for Women Unit, 1986.Stephens, Peter. “America’s Sick and Awful Farce.” Sydney Morning Herald 14 Oct. 1991: 1.Storrie, Kathleen, and Pearl Dykstra. “Bibliography on Sexual Harassment.” Resources for Feminist Research/Documentation 10.4 (1981–1982): 25–32.Wise, Sue, and Liz Stanley. Georgie Porgie: Sexual Harassment in Every Day Life. London: Pandora, 1987.Winch, Alison, Jo Littler, and Jessalyn Keller. “Why ‘Intergenerational Feminist Media Studies’?” Feminist Media Studies 16.4 (2016): 557–572. <https://doi.org/10.1080/14680777.2016.1193285>.Zarkov, Dubravka, and Kathy Davis. “Ambiguities and Dilemmas around #MeToo: #ForHowLong and #WhereTo?” European Journal of Women's Studies 25.1 (2018): 3–9. <https://doi.org/10.1177/1350506817749436>.

Among the sub-genres of science fiction, one of the most traditional and most machine-laden is space opera. The name is dismissive and was coined in parallel with the now little recognised 'horse opera' (for westerns) in the wake of the success of the term 'soap opera' (for romantic serials). Space operas were adventure sagas across the galaxies with space ships carrying intrepid crews on voyages of discovery, into glorious battles and terrifying encounters with aliens. The 'opera' part presumably refers to their seriality and overstated melodrama. At various times during the last fifty years space opera has seemed as doomed as the horse type, but sufficient examples were published to keep the sub-genre puttering along until new authors could invigorate it. This has now happened and I want in this brief note to see the change, through looking at one current writer's series to see what has been done, how it has been received and how observing the role of a particular novum (Darko Suvin's term for the imaginative invention that characterises sf) -- a machine in this case, of course -- illuminates what has happened. Because this begins with a consideration of sf history, I want to start with one of the key distinctions that has long operated in both popular and academic analysis of science fiction (though admittedly it has more currency now in the popular); that between hard and soft sf. Unsurprisingly, given how loaded those terms are, it is a gendered distinction. Hard sf is the boys' playground; technologically driven, its allegiances are to physics and engineering. From nano-widgets to space ships as big as planets, it loves machines. The boysiness of hard sf was sedimented in popular sf through the generic hegemony achieved by Hugo Gernsback in his US pulp magazine empire starting with Astounding in 1926. Space opera was the quintessential type of hard sf in the early years, though it came to be challenged if not displaced by colonisation narratives that concentrated on engineering. Soft sf, of necessity the girly stuff, has the squishy bits -- biology certainly, but also the social sciences. Both New Wave and feminist sf, the innovative sub-genres of sf in the 60s and 70s, used soft rather than hard tropes in their subsequently incorporated revisions of the genre. In the 80s, cyberpunk presented itself as the hard stuff, but this was pretty disingenuous (all that voodoo, those drugs, the excursions into various social sciences), not to mention, as Samuel Delany among others has pointed out, the way this could only be managed by denying its feminist foremothers. These days, the traces of space opera's pulp-laden past are there to be read in the way that the more serious American writers like Kim Stanley Robinson prefer sober space colonisation narratives while the truly innovative work (as well as the quality writing) is done outside the US, by a Scot -- Iain M. Banks. In addition to Banks's wondrous novels of the Culture, the revivified field includes more traditional series like Lois McMaster Bujold's Vorkosigan saga, David Weber's Honor Harrington sequence and Colin Greenland's tracing of the career of Tabitha Jute. It would not be possible to examine how Banks has remapped the field in a note such as this, but dealing with some of the more traditional examples can provide an interesting case study in the hardness of the sub-genre, as well as pointing to wider movements in the sf world. It is the latter that is evident in the way in which the male writers produce female lead and the female the male (by and large, Bujold does occasional female leads). Not that Weber makes any attempt to make Honor credible as a female, she's laughably improbable and only needs to be placed near Greenland's Tabitha Jute for the disparity to become evident. (I'm using this comparison not just for its power but also because it stops the suggestion that male writers can't produce decent female action heroes.) For the more detailled part of this I want to concentrate on Bujold's series in part to mull over why it might be that her books are dismissed as too soft and 'girly' to be good space opera. There is something of a problem in that I find the whole hard:soft distinction more than a bit juvenile and value it primarily for its power in understanding sf history. The moves to broaden the field beyond what it was so artificially limited to in early to mid-twentieth century America seem to me to be a move to a more integrated adulthood rather than the imposition of a line of squishy feminine referents to be denied or repelled. I don't see 'softness' as a negative quality (nor 'hardness' for that matter), but I am interested in why and how a space opera series with space ships, space weaponry, gadgets galore and large quantities of prime quality derring-do should be deemed soft. Bujold has written a long series of space operas set in an Earth-colonised far-future that centre on the deformed figure of Lord Miles Vorkosigan. A few other fictions are set in the same universe and link in various ways to the core texts. Not all are set on spaceships though the majority require their presence as significant features of the plot while others rely on such standards of space narrative as space stations, terra-forming and the hardware of space warfare. To dismiss Bujold's world as one where the hardness of space opera technology is subsumed in girliness, it is necessary to overlook not just great passages of certain texts, but to dismiss whole novels. The Vor Game for instance follows a long sequence at an arctic weather station which culminates in the necessary destruction of outdated toxic weaponry with an escapade across great reaches of space in a whole range of ships displaying, selling and eventually using all manner of wonderful weaponry climaxing in a battle for control of a wormhole nexus. The only woman of any narrative prominence is a evil mercenary leader ("face of an angel, mind of a rabid mongoose"). One would think that it all sounds rather a sitter as a hard piece of space opera fare written for a readership of boys of all ages. My description though so far fails to convey where it is that Bujold has updated the sub-genre. It could be that the problem lies in the same place as the updating -- in the nuancing of the character of the hero Miles Vorkosigan and the continuing delineation of the interweaving of his double life as mercenary Admiral and loyal Imperial lieutenant. Traditionally the space opera hero comes into the world if not fully formed, then at least ready for a coming-of-age tale. Bujold shows us the formation of the hero, ensuring that he remains located within his extended family. It could be that complaints come from those who would prefer their heroes not to have mothers. But then again it could be about the humour. Bujold doesn't see earnestness as desirable and writes a fantastical adventure romp. It seems to me that this is one core difference between her and fellow Baen writer David Weber. There is no predicting what a descriptive passage about technology will lead to in Bujold; it could be a novel way to win hand to hand combat or a comic sequence making a moral point about abuse of power. For Weber, a sequence of space ships and weaponry is sufficient in itself, being an opportunity to talk of model numbers and ballistic capabilities with all the narrative brio of Tom Clancy (i.e. none), but at least Clancy is usually talking about something that has an existence in the real world. When both the machine and the science it operates by are more than speculative, labouring the trainspotters'-guide-to-hyperspace-technology talk can only delight anoraks. Machines are ends in themselves for Weber, means to a narrative or characterological point in Bujold. As well as why the machine is mentioned, there is also the question of what kind of machines are favoured. Maybe over the whole sequence, Bujold pays more attention to biologically-based technologies; when she focusses on engineering it is more often as a means to a biological end (usually terraforming), though in Falling Free, the least closely linked of the novels, the biology which enables the creation of the 'quads' -- freefall workers with four arms rather than arms and legs -- is in the service of engineering advantage. The passion in her work, and despite the humour and invention, there is considerable ideologically driven passion, is reserved for her biologically based beliefs -- that physical difference should be no barrier to achievement. As is common in sf, race is incidental and not part of the argument (it is rare for any but black writers of sf to see race as a meaningful issue for the future), but sex and ability are primary. Thus Miles, whose bones were damaged while a foetus and who is short and hunched, Bel Thorne, the hermaphrodite, Taura, the genetically engineered 'perfect soldier' eight foot tall with claws and fangs, Mark, Miles's clone brother and many others who appear less frequently carry the story of difference that must not be allowed to make a difference. Where gender is concerned, the popular spread of feminism means that forceful statements of position are read as political, not as some more woolly bit of being 'nice to the afflicted'. Bujold's feminism may be old-fashioned liberal rather than radical or post-modern, but it doesn't operate by parachuting women in to narratively significant positions of power. You buy the book and you get the argument and with Cordelia, Miles's mother, inscribed as the figure of rationality, the bases are loaded. The machine around which the discourse of liberation is organised, Bujold's novum and the machine which is the focus of complaint, is the uterine replicator -- an artificial womb. In the Bujold universe this is the ultimate good machine. It was a replicator that enabled Miles to survive after teratogenic damage in utero; his first love and his mother both issued from them; and it seems like the key test of a man is his willingness or otherwise to have his wife reproduce in vitro. I suppose I can see why this offends those wedded to old-fashioned hard space opera. Traditionally, the machines that tell the men from the girls/boys/lesser beings are the ships and their weaponry, but here the machines that count replicate the uterus (ultimate squishiness) and so, far from delivering death, deliver babies. Furthermore, their entry into the narrative is almost always the cue for a disquisition on the inequities of the patriarchal society within which Bujold sets almost all her action. InMirror Dance Miles's clone brother Mark finally meets the senior Vorkosigans. He is taken to a court ball by his 'mother' who explains the dynamics of the evening in terms of the political agenda of the old men and the genetic one of the old women. The men imagine theirs is the only one but that's just an ego-serving self-delusion. ... The old men in government councils spend their lives arguing against or scheming to fund this or that piece of off-planet military hardware. Meanwhile the uterine replicator is creeping in past their guard. (296) In the most recent book,Komarr, the main female character is an abused wife with a young son and the fact that her husband required her to bear the child herself is presented as just one of the many abuses he subjects her to. When you read the various passages which discuss the uterine replicators across the books, it can be surprising to discover the insistence with which barbarity and male oppression are figured in the refusal to countenance the machine and good men are revealed by their regarding it as a valuable device. It seems almost to verge on the excessive (but then this is not how such ephemeral texts as popular space opera are read, and if one put together a collection of the passages of 'best bits of weapons admiration' that would look a bit strange too). One could, if so minded, easily dismiss the Vorkosigan adventures as a bit girly on the basis of their enjoyment of interpersonal relations, character development, or romance. If, though, one were willing to admit that only certain pieces of hardware had generically usable hardness, it might rather be possible to observe that the carping at the centrality of the wrong kind of machine identifies much more accurately what is really worrying about the whole popularity of the series -- that this machine is a Trojan Horse for the incorporation through hard technology of 'hard' feminist politics. References Bujold, Lois McMaster. Komarr. Earthlight, 1998. ---. Mirror Dance Riverdale: Baen, 1994. ---. The Vor Game. Riverdale: Baen, 1990. Delany, Samuel R. Silent Interviews: On Language, Race, Sex, Science Fiction and Some Comics. Hanover: Wesleyan UP, 1994. Suvin, Darko. Metamorphoses of Science Fiction. New Haven: Yale UP, 1979. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Frances Bonner. "The Hard Question of Squishy Machines." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.6 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9909/bujold.php>. Chicago style: Frances Bonner, "The Hard Question of Squishy Machines," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 6 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9909/bujold.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Frances Bonner. (1999) The hard question of squishy machines. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(6). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9909/bujold.php> ([your date of access]).

Apparently some people upon coming across [Down Syndrome dolls] were offended. […] Still, it’s curious, and telling, what gives offense. Was it the shock of seeing a doll not modeled on the normative form that caused such offense? Or the assumption that any representation of Down Syndrome must naturally intend ridicule? Either way, it would seem that we might benefit from an examination of such reactions—especially as they relate to instances of the idealisation of the human form that dolls […] represent. (Faulkner) IntroductionWhen Joanne Faulkner describes public criticism of dolls designed to look like they have Down Syndrome, she draws attention to the need for an examination of the way discourses of disability are communicated. She calls, in particular, for an interrogation of people’s reactions to the disruption of the idealised human form that most dolls adopt. The case of Down Syndrome dolls is fascinating, yet critical discussion of these dolls from a disability or cultural studies perspective is conspicuously lacking. To address this lack, this paper draws upon theories of the cultural construction of disability, beauty, and normalcy (Garland-Thompson, Kumari Campbell, Wendell), to explore the way ideas about disability are communicated and circulated. The dominant discourse of disability is medical, where people are diagnosed or identified as disabled if they meet certain criteria, or lists of physical impairments. These lists have a tendency to subsume the disparate qualities of disability (Garland-Thompson) and remove people considered disabled from the social and cultural world in which they live (Snyder and Mitchell 377). While Down Syndrome dolls, produced by Downi Creations and Helga’s European Speciality Toys (HEST) in the US and Europe respectively, are reflective of such lists, they also perform the cultural function of increasing the visibility of disability in society. In addition, the companies distributing these dolls state that they are striving for greater inclusion of people with Down Syndrome (Collins, Parks). However, the effect of the dominance of medicalised discourses of disability can be seen in the public reaction to these dolls. This paper seeks also to bring an interrogation of disability into dialogue with a critical analysis of the discursive function of lists.The paper begins with a consideration of lists as they have been used to define disability and organise knowledge within medicine, and the impact this has had on the position of disability within society. In order to differentiate itself from medical discourses, the emerging social model also relied on lists during the 1980s and 1990s. However, these lists also decontextualised disability by ignoring certain factors for political advantage. The social model, like medicine, tended to ignore the diversity of humanity it was apparently arguing for (Snyder and Mitchell 377). The focus then shifts to the image of Down Syndrome dolls and the ensuing negative interpretation of them focusing, in particular, on reader comments following a Mail Online (Fisher) article. Although the dolls were debated across the blogosphere on a number of disability, special needs parenting, and Down Syndrome specific blogs, people commenting on The Mail Online—a UK based conservative tabloid newspaper—offer useful insights into communication and meaning making around disability. People establish meanings about disability through communication (Hedlund 766). While cultural responses to disability are influenced by a number of paradigms of interpretation such as superstition, religion, and fear, this paper is concerned with the rejection of bodies that do not ascribe to cultural standards of beauty and seeks to explore this paradigm alongside and within the use of lists by the various models of disability. This paper interrogates the use of lists in the way meanings about disability are communicated through the medical diagnostic list, the Down Syndrome dolls, and reactions to them. Each list reduces the disparate qualities and experiences of disability, yet as a cultural artefact, these dolls go some way towards recognising the social and cultural world that medicalised discourses of disability ignore. Drawing on the use of lists within different frameworks of disability, this paper contrasts the individual, or medical, model of disability (that being disabled is a personal problem) with the social model (that exclusion due to disability is social oppression). Secondly, the paper compares the characteristics of Down Syndrome dolls with actual characteristics of Down Syndrome to conclude that these features aim to be a celebrated, not stigmatised, aspect of the doll. By reasserting alternative notions of the body, the dolls point towards a more diverse society where disability can be understood in relation to social oppression. However, these aims of celebration have not automatically translated to a more diverse understanding. This paper aims to complicate perceptions of disability beyond a rudimentary list of characteristics through a consideration of the negative public response to these dolls. These responses are an example of the cultural subjugation of disability.Lists and the Creation of Normative Cultural ValuesFor Robert Belknap, lists are the dominant way of “organizing data relevant to human functioning” (8). While lists are used in a number of ways and for a variety of purposes, Belknap divides lists into two categories—the practical and the literary. Practical lists store meanings, while literary lists create them (89). Belknap’s recognition of the importance of meaning making is particularly relevant to a cultural interrogation of disability. As Mitchell and Snyder comment:Disability’s representational “fate” is not so much dependant upon a tradition of negative portrayals as it is tethered to inciting the act of meaning-making itself. (6)Disability unites disparate groups of people whose only commonality is that they are considered “abnormal” (Garland-Thompson). Ableism—the beliefs, processes, and practices which produce the ideal body—is a cultural project in which normative values are created in an attempt to neutralise the fact that all bodies are out of control (Kumari Campbell). Medical models use diagnostic lists and criteria to remove bodies from their social and cultural context and enforce an unequal power dynamic (Snyder and Mitchell 377).By comparison, the social model of disability shifts the emphasis to situate disability in social and cultural practices (Goggin and Newell 36). Lists have also been integral to the formation of the social model of disability as theorists established binary oppositions between medical and social understandings of disability (Oliver 22). While these lists have no “essential meaning,” through discourse they shape human experience (Liggett). Lists bring disparate items together to structure meaning and organisation. According to Hedlund, insights into the experience of disability—which is neither wholly medical nor wholly social—can be found in the language we use to communicate ideas about disability (766). For example, while the recent production of children’s dolls designed to reflect a list of the physical features of Down Syndrome (Table 2) may have no inherent meaning, negative public reception reveals recognisable modes of understanding disability. Down Syndrome dolls are in stark contrast to dolls popularly available which assume a normative representation. For Blair and Shalmon (15), popular children’s toys communicate cultural standards of beauty. Naomi Wolf describes beauty as a socially constructed normative value used to disempower women in particular. The idealisation of the human form is an aspect of children’s toys that has been criticised for perpetuating a narrow conception of beauty (Levy 189). Disability is likewise subject to social construction and is part of a collective social reality beyond diagnostic lists (Hedlund 766).Organising Knowledge: The Social vs. Medical Model of DisabilityDisability has long been moored in medical cultures and institutions which emphasise a sterile ideal of the body based on a diagnosis of biological difference as deviance. For example, in 1866, John Langdon Down sought to provide a diagnostic classification system for people with, what would later come to be called (after him), Down Syndrome. He focused on physical features:The hair is […] of a brownish colour, straight and scanty. The face is flat and broad, and destitute of prominence. The cheeks are roundish, and extended laterally. The eyes are obliquely placed, and the internal canthi more than normally distant from one another. The palpebral fissure is very narrow. The forehead is wrinkled transversely from the constant assistance which the levatores palpebrarum derive from the occipito-frontalis muscle in the opening of the eyes. The lips are large and thick with transverse fissures. The tongue is long, thick, and is much roughened. The nose is small. The skin has a slight dirty yellowish tinge, and is deficient in elasticity, giving the appearance of being too large for the body. (Down)These features form what Belknap would describe as a “pragmatic” list (12). For Belknap, scientific classification, such as the description Langdon Down offers above, introduces precision and validation to the use of lists (167). The overt principle linking these disparate characteristics together is the normative body from which these features deviate. Medicalised discourses, such as Down’s list, have been linked with the institutionalisation of people with this condition and their exclusion from the broader community (Hickey-Moody 23). Such emphasis on criteria to proffer diagnosis removes and decontextualises bodies from the world in which they live (Snyder and Mitchell 370). This world may in fact be the disabling factor, rather than the person’s body. The social model emerged in direct opposition to medicalised definitions of disability as a number of activists with disabilities in the United Kingdom formed The Union of Physically Impaired Against Segregation (UPIAS) and concluded that people with disability are disabled not by their bodies but by a world structured to exclude their bodies (Finkelstein 13). By separating disability (socially created) from impairment (the body), disability is understood as society’s unwillingness to accommodate the needs of people with impairments. The British academic and disability activist Michael Oliver was central to the establishment of the social model of disability. Following the activities of the UPIAS, Oliver (re)defined disability as a “form of social oppression,” and created two lists (reproduced below) to distinguish between the social and individual (or medical) models of disability. By utilising the list form in this way, Oliver both provided a repository of information regarding the social model of disability and contextualised it in direct opposition to what he describes as the individual model. These lists present the social model as a coherent discipline, in an easy to understand format. As Belknap argues, the suggestion of order is a major tool of the list (98). Oliver’s list suggests a clear order to the emerging social model of disability—disability is a problem with society, not an individual. However, this list was problematic because it appeared to disregard impairment within the experience of disability. As the “impersonal became political” (Snyder and Mitchell 377), impairment became the unacknowledged ambiguity in the binary opposition the social model was attempting to create (Shakespeare 35). Nevertheless, Oliver’s lists successfully enforced a desired order to the social model of disability. The individual modelThe social modelPersonal tragedy theorySocial oppression theoryPersonal problemSocial problemIndividual treatmentSocial actionMedicalisationSelf helpProfessional dominanceIndividual and collective responsibilityExpertiseExperienceAdjustmentAffirmationIndividual identityCollective identityPrejudiceDiscriminationAttitudesBehaviourCareRightsControlChoicePolicyPoliticsIndividual adaptation Social changeTable 1 The Individual v Social Model of Disability (Oliver)The social model then went through a period of “lists,” especially when discussing media and culture. Positive versus negative portrayals of disability were identified and scholars listed strategies for the appropriate representation of disability (Barnes, Barnes Mercer and Shakespeare). The representations of impairment or the physical markers of disability were discouraged as the discipline concerned itself with establishing disability as a political struggle against a disabling social world. Oliver’s lists arrange certain “facts” about disability. Disability is framed as a social phenomenon where certain aspects are emphasised and others left out. While Oliver explains that these lists were intended to represent extreme ends of a continuum to illustrate the distinction between disability and impairment (33), these are not mutually exclusive categories (Shakespeare 35). Disability is not simply a list of physical features, nor is it a clear distinction between individual/medical and social models. By utilising lists, the social model reacts to and attempts to move beyond the particular ordering provided by the medical model, but remains tied to a system of classification that imposes order on human functioning. Critical analysis of the representation of disability must re-engage the body by moving beyond binaries and pragmatic lists. While lists organise data central to human functioning, systems of meaning shape the organisation of human experience. Down Syndrome dolls, explored in the next section, complicate the distinction between the medical and social models.Down Syndrome DollsThese dolls are based on composites of a number of children with Down Syndrome (Hareyan). Helga Parks, CEO of HEST, describes the dolls as a realistic representation of nine physical features of Down Syndrome. Likewise, Donna Moore of Downi Creations employed a designer to oversee the production of the dolls which boast 13 features of Down Syndrome (Velasquez). These features are listed in the table below. HEST Down Syndrome Dolls Downi CreationsSmall ears set low on head with a fold at the topSmall ears with a fold at the topEars set low on the headSmall mouthSmall mouthProtruding tongueSlightly protruding tongueShortened fingers Shortened fingersPinkie finger curves inwardAlmond shaped eyesAlmond-shaped eyesHorizontal crease in palm of handHorizontal crease in palm of handGap between first and second toeA gap between the first and second toesShortened toesFlattened back of headFlattened back of headFlattened bridge across nose Flattened bridge across noseOptional: An incision in the chest to indicate open-heart surgery Table 2: Down Syndrome Dolls (Parks, Velasquez) Achieving the physical features of Down Syndrome is significant because Parks and Moore wanted children with the condition to recognise themselves:When a child with Down’s syndrome [sic.] picks up a regular doll, he doesn’t see himself, he sees the world’s perception of “perfect.” Our society is so focused on bodily perfection. (Cresswell)Despite these motivations, studies show that children with Down Syndrome prefer to play with “typical dolls” that do not reflect the physical characteristics of Down Syndrome (Cafferty 49). According to Cafferty, it is possible that children prefer typical dolls because they are “more attractive” (49). Similar studies of diverse groups of children have shown that children prefer to play with dolls they perceive as fitting into social concepts of beauty (Abbasi). Deeply embedded cultural notions of beauty—which exclude disability (see Morris)—are communicated from childhood (Blair & Shalmon 15). Notions of bodily perfection dominate children’s toys and Western culture in general as Cresswell comments above. Many bodies, not just those deemed “disabled,” do not conform to these cultural standards. Cultural ideals of beauty and an idealisation of the human body according to increasingly narrow parameters are becoming conflated with conceptions of normality (Wendell 86). Recognition of disability as subject to cultural rejection allows us to see “beauty and normalcy [as] a series of practices and positions [taken] in order to avoid the stigmatization of ugliness and abnormality” (Garland-Thompson). The exaggerated features of the doll problematise the idea that people with disability should strive to appear as nondisabled as possible and in turn highlights that some people, such as those with Down Syndrome, cannot “pass” as nondisabled and must therefore navigate a life and community that is not welcoming. While lists of the features of Down Syndrome store associated medicalised meanings, the discussion of the dolls online (the medium through which they are sold) provides insight into the cultural interpretation of disability and the way meaning is made. The next section of the paper considers a selection of negative responses to the Down Syndrome dolls that followed an article published in Mail Online (Fisher). What Causes Offence? Prior to Down Syndrome dolls, the majority of “disability dolls” were constructed through their accessories rather than through the dolls’ physical form and features. Wheelchairs, white canes, guide dogs and harnesses, plastic walkers, leg braces, and hearing aids could be purchased for use with dolls. Down Syndrome dolls look different as the features of impairment are embedded in the dolls’ construction. While accessories have a more temporary feel about them, the permanence of the impairments attributed to the doll was problematic for some who felt it projected a negative image of disability. Listed below are several negative comments following an article published in Mail Online (Fisher):What a grim world we are living in. No longer are dollies for play, for make believe, or for fun. Now it all about self image and psychological “help.” We “disabled” know we are “disabled”—we don’t need a doll to remind us of that! Stop making everything PC; let children be children and play and laugh once again!I think it’s sick and patronising.Who on earth are those education “experts?” Has nobody told them that you don’t educate children by mirroring their defects/weaknesses/negative traits but by doing exactly the opposite, mirroring back the BEST in them?The Downs Syndrome doll looks like they took the physical traits and presented them in an exaggerated way to make them more noticeable. That doll does not look attractive to me at all. If someone has a child that WANTS such a doll, fine. I can’t really see how it would help many of them, it would be like a huge sign saying “You are different.”The terminology used (grim, sick, patronising, defect, weak, negative, unattractive, different) to describe disability in these posts is significant. These descriptions are ideological categories which disadvantage and devalue “bodies that do not conform to certain cultural standards” (Garland-Thompson). Implicit and explicit in all of these comments is the sense that disability and Downs Syndrome in particular is undesirable, unattractive even. When listed together, like Belknap’s literary lists, they are not random or isolated interpretations; they form part of a larger system of meaning making around disability.These responses are informed by the notion that in order to gain equality in society, people with disability must suppress their difference and focus instead on how they are really just like everybody else. However, this focus ignores barriers to inclusion, such as in the rejection of bodies that do not ascribe to cultural standards of beauty. An increasing visibility of impairment in popular culture such as children’s toys advances an understanding of disability as diversity through difference and not something inherently bad. ConclusionPeter Laudin of Pattycake Doll, a company which sells Black, Hispanic, Asian, and Disabled dolls, has found that children “love all dolls unconditionally whether it’s special needs or not” (Lee Adam). He suggests that the majority of the negative responses to the Down Syndrome dolls stem from prejudice (Lee Adam). Dolls popularly available idealise the human form and assume a normative representation. While this has been criticised for communicating damaging standards of beauty from childhood (Levy, Blair and Shalmon), critiques about disability are not as widely understood. The social and medical models of disability focus attention on certain aspects of disability through lists; however, the reduction of diagnostic criteria in the form of a list (whether medical or social) decontextualises disability from the social and cultural world. Thus, the list form, while useful, has elided the disparate qualities of disability. As Belknap argues, lists “ask us to make them meaningful” (xv). Although the dolls discussed in this paper have been criticised for stereotyping and emphasising the difference between children with disability and those without, an inclusion of the physical features of Down Syndrome is consistent with recent moves within critical disability studies to re-engage the body (Shakespeare 35). As Faulkner notes in the epigraph to this paper, an examination of negative reactions to these dolls reveals much about the cultural position of people with disability. References Abbasi, Jennifer. “Why 6-Year Old Girls Want to be Sexy.” Live Science 16 July (2012). 30 Aug. 2012 ‹http://www.livescience.com/21609-self-sexualization-young-girls.html›. Barnes, Colin. Disabling Imagery and the Media: An Exploration of the Principles for Media Representations of Disabled People. Krumlin Halifax: Ryburn Publishing, 1992. 5 Aug. 2012 http://www.leeds.ac.uk/disability-studies/archiveuk/Barnes/disabling%20imagery.pdf.Barnes, Colin, Geoff Mercer, and Tom Shakespeare. Exploring Disability: A Sociological Introduction. Malden: Polity Press, 1999.Belknap, Robert. The List: The Uses and Pleasures of Cataloguing. New Haven: Yale U P, 2004.Blair, Lorrie, and Maya Shalmon. “Cosmetic Surgery and the Cultural Construction of Beauty.” Art Education 58.3 (2005): 14-18.Cafferty, Diana De Rosa. A Doll Like Me: Do Children with Down Syndrome Prefer to Play with Dolls That Have the Physical Features Associated with Down Syndrome? MS thesis. U of California, 2012. Campbell, Fiona Kumari. Contours of Ableism: The Production of Disability and Abledness. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009.Collins, Allyson. “Dolls with Down Syndrome May Help Kids.” ABC News. 27 Jun. 2008. 4 Oct. 2012 ‹http://abcnews.go.com/Health/Parenting/story?id=5255393&page=1#.UGzQXK6T-XP›. Cresswell, Adam. “Dolls with Disability Divide Opinion.” The Australian 12 Jul. 2008. 26 Dec. 2008 ‹http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,25197,24000338-23289,00.html›.Down, John Langdon. “Observations on an Ethnic Classification of Idiots.” Neonatology on the Web. 1866. 3 Aug. 2012 ‹http://www.neonatology.org/classics/down.html›.Faulkner, Joanne “Disability Dolls.” What Sorts of People? 26 Jun. 2008. 29 Aug. 2012 ‹http://whatsortsofpeople.wordpress.com/2008/06/26/disability-dolls/›.Finkelstein, Vic. “Representing Disability.” Disabling Barriers—Enabling Environments. Ed. John Swain, et al. Los Angeles: Sage, 2004. 13-20.Fisher, Lorraine. “Parents’ Fury at ‘Down's Syndrome Dolls’ Designed to Help Children Deal with Disability.” Mail Online 7 Jul. 2008. 26 Dec. 2008. ‹http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1032600/Parents-fury-Downs-Syndrome-dolls-designed-help-children-deal-disability.html›. Garland-Thomson, Rosemarie. “Re-Shaping, Re-Thinking, Re-Defining: Feminist Disability Studies.” The Free Library 1 Jan. 2008. 3 Aug. 2012. ‹http://www.thefreelibrary.com/Re-shaping, Re-thinking, Re-defining: Feminist Disability Studies.-a084377500›.Goggin, Gerard and Christopher Newell. Disability in Australia: Exposing a Social Apartheid. Sydney: U of New South Wales, 2005.Hareyan, Armen. “Using Dolls to Reduce the Stigma of Down Syndrome.” EMax Health. 4 Dec. 2008. Jan 2009 ‹http://www.emaxhealth.com/7/22865.html›.Hedlund, Marianne. “Disability as a Phenomenon: A Discourse of Social and Biological Understanding.” Disability & Society. 15.5 (2000): 765-80.Hickey-Moody, Anna. Unimaginable Bodies. Netherlands: Sense Publishers, 2009.Lee Adams, William. “New Dolls on the Block.” Time Magazine 19 Mar. 2009. 13 Dec. 2009. ‹http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1886457,00.html›.Levy, Ariel. Female Chauvinist Pigs: Women and the Rise of Raunch Culture. Collingwood: Black Inc. 2010.Liggett, Helen. “Stars are not Born: An Interpretive Approach to the Politics of Disability” in Disability Studies: Past Present and Future. Ed. Len Barton and Mike Oliver. Leeds: The Disability Press, 1997. 178-194.Mitchell, David and Sharon Snyder. Narrative Prosthesis: Disability and the Dependencies of Discourse. Ann Arbor, The U of Michigan P, 2000.Morris, Jenny “A Feminist Perspective.” Framed. Ed. Ann Pointon & Chris Davies. London: British Film Institute, 1997. 21-30. Oliver, Michael. Understanding Disability: From Theory to Practice. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 1996.Parks, Helga. “New Doll Is Child’s Best Friend.” HEST Press Release, 2005. Shakespeare, Tom. Disability Rights and Wrongs. London: Routledge, 2006.Snyder, Sharon, and David Mitchell. “Re-Engaging the Body: Disability Studes and the Resistance to Embodiment.” Public Culture 13.3 (2001): 367-89.Velasquez, Leticia. “Downi Creations.” 2007. 4 Dec. 2009. ‹http://cause-of-our-joy.blogspot.com/2007/08/downi-creations.html›.Wendell, Susan. The Rejected Body: Feminist Philosophical Reflections on Disability. New York: Routledge, 1996.Wolf, Naomi. The Beauty Myth: How Images of Beauty Are Used against Women. New York: Harper Perennial, 2002 [1991].

We ask you now, reader, to put your mind, as a citizen of the Australian Commonwealth, to the facts presented in these pages. We ask you to study the problem, in the way that we present the case, from the Aborigines’ point of view. We do not ask for your charity; we do not ask you to study us as scientific-freaks. Above all, we do not ask for your “protection”. No, thanks! We have had 150 years of that! We ask only for justice, decency, and fair play. (Patten and Ferguson 3-4) Jack Patten and William Ferguson’s above declaration on “Plain Speaking” in Aborigines Claim Citizenship Rights! A Statement of the Case for the Aborigines Progressive Association (1938), outlining Aboriginal Australians view of colonisation and the call for Aboriginal self-determinacy, will be my guiding framework in writing this paper. I ask you to study the problem, as it is presented, from the viewpoint of an Indigenous woman who seeks to understand how “sorry” has been uttered in political domains as a word divorced from the moral freight attached to a history of “degrading, humiliating and exterminating” Aboriginal Australians (Patten and Ferguson 11). I wish to argue that the Opposition leader’s utterance of “sorry” in his 13 February 2008 “We Are Sorry – Address to Parliament” was an indicator of the insidious ways in which colonisation has treated Aboriginal Australians as less than, not equal to, white Australians and to examine the ways in which this particular utterance of the word “sorry” is built on longstanding colonial frameworks that position ‘the Aborigine’ as peripheral in the representation of a national identity – a national identity that, as shown by the transcript of the apology, continues to romanticise settler values and ignore Indigenous rights. Nelson’s address tries to disassociate the word “sorry” from any moral attachment. The basis of his address is on constructing a national identity where all injustices are equal. In offering this apology, let us not create one injustice in our attempts to address another. (Nelson) All sorrys are equal, but some are more equal than others. Listening to Nelson’s address, words resembling those of Orwell’s ran through my head. The word “sorry” in relation to Indigenous Australians has taken on cultural, political, educational and economic proportions. The previous government’s refusal to utter the word was attached to the ways in which formations of rhetorically self-sufficient arguments of practicality, equality and justice “functioned to sustain and legitimate existing inequalities between Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples in Australia” (Augoustinos, LeCouteur and Soyland 105). How then, I wondered as I nervously waited for Nelson to begin apologising, would he transform this inherited collective discursive practice of legitimised racism that upheld mainstream Australia’s social reality? The need for an apology, and the history of political refusal to give it, is not a simple classification of one event, one moment in history. The ‘act’ of removing children is not a singular, one-off event. The need to do, the justification and rationalisation of the doing and what that means now, the having done, as well as the impact on those that were left behind, those that were taken, those that were born after, are all bound up in this particular “sorry”. Given that reluctance of the previous government to admit injustices were done and still exist, this utterance of the word “sorry” from the leader of the opposition precariously sat between freely offering it and reluctantly giving it. The above quote from Nelson, and its central concern of not performing any injustice towards mainstream Australia (“let us not” [my italics]) very definitely defines this sorry in relation to one particular injustice (the removing of Indigenous children) which therefore ignores the surrounding and complicit colonialist and racist attitudes, policies and practices that both institutionalised and perpetuated racism against Australia’s Indigenous peoples. This comment also clearly articulates the opposition’s concern that mainstream Australia not be offended by this act of offering the word “sorry”. Nelson’s address and the ways that it constructs what this “sorry” is for, what it isn’t for, and who it is for, continues to uphold and legitimate existing inequalities between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians. From the very start of Nelson’s “We Are Sorry – Address to Parliament”, two specific clarifications were emphasised: the “sorry” was directed at a limited time period in history; and that there is an ‘us’ and a ‘them’. Nelson defines this distinction: “two cultures; one ancient, proud and celebrating its deep bond with this land for some 50,000 years. The other, no less proud, arrived here with little more than visionary hope deeply rooted in gritty determination to build an Australian nation.” This cultural division maintains colonising discourses that define and label, legitimate and exclude groups and communities. It draws from the binary oppositions of self and other, white and black, civilised and primitive. It maintains a divide between the two predominant ideas of history that this country struggles with and it silences those in that space in between, ignoring for example, the effects of colonisation and miscegenation in blurring the lines between ‘primitive’ and ‘civilised’. Although acknowledging that Indigenous Australians inhabited this land for a good few thousand decades before the proud, gritty, determined visionaries of a couple of hundred years ago, the “sorry” that is to be uttered is only in relation to “the first seven decades of the 20th century”. Nelson establishes from the outset that any forthcoming apology, on behalf of “us” – read as non-Indigenous Anglo-Australians – in reference to ‘them’ – “those Aboriginal people forcibly removed” – is only valid for the “period within which these events occurred [which] was one that defined and shaped Australia”. My reading of this sectioning of a period in Australia’s history is that while recognising that certain colonising actions were unjust, specifically in this instance the removal of Indigenous children, this period of time is also seen as influential and significant to the growth of the country. What this does is to allow the important colonial enterprise to subsume the unjust actions by the colonisers by other important colonial actions. Explicit in Nelson’s address is that this particular time frame saw the nation of Australia reach the heights of achievements and is a triumphant period – an approach which extends beyond taking the highs with the lows, and the good with the bad, towards overshadowing any minor ‘unfortunate’ mistakes that might have been made, ‘occasionally’, along the way. Throughout the address, there are continual reminders to the listeners that the “us” should not be placed at a disadvantage in the act of saying “sorry”: to do so would be to create injustice, whereas this “sorry” is strictly about attempting to “address another”. By sectioning off a specific period in the history of colonised Australia, the assumption is that all that happened before 1910 and all that happened after 1970 are “sorry” free. This not only ignores the lead up to the official policy of removal, how it was sanctioned and the aftermath of removal as outlined in The Bringing Them Home Report (1997); it also prevents Indigenous concepts of time from playing a legitimate and recognised role in the construct of both history and society. Aboriginal time is cyclical and moves around important events: those events that are most significant to an individual are held closer than those that are insignificant or mundane. Aleksendar Janca and Clothilde Bullen state that “time is perceived in relation to the socially sanctioned importance of events and is most often identified by stages in life or historic relevance of events” (41). The speech attempts to distinguish between moments and acts in history: firmly placing the act of removing children in a past society and as only one act of injustice amongst many acts of triumph. “Our generation does not own these actions, nor should it feel guilt for what was done in many, but not all cases, with the best of intentions” (Nelson). What was done is still being felt by Indigenous Australians today. And by differentiating between those that committed these actions and “our generation”, the address relies on a linear idea of time, to distance any wrongdoing from present day white Australians. What I struggle with here is that those wrongdoings continue to be felt according to Indigenous concepts of time and therefore these acts are not in a far away past but very much felt in the present. The need to not own these actions further entrenches the idea of separateness between Indigenous Australia and non-Indigenous Australia. The fear of being guilty or at blame evokes notions of wrong and right and this address is at pains not to do that – not to lay blame or evoke shame. Nelson’s address is relying on a national identity that has historically silenced and marginalised Indigenous Australians. If there is no blame to be accepted, if there is no attached shame to be acknowledged (“great pride, but occasionally shame” (Nelson)) and dealt with, then national identity is implicitly one of “discovery”, peaceful settlement and progress. Where are the Aboriginal perspectives of history in this idea of a national identity – then and now? And does this mean that colonialism happened and is now over? State and territory actions upon, against and in exclusion of Indigenous Australians are not actions that can be positioned as past discriminations; they continue today and are a direct result of those that preceded them. Throughout his address, Nelson emphasises the progressiveness of “today” and how that owes its success to the “past”: “In doing so, we reach from within ourselves to our past, those whose lives connect us to it and in deep understanding of its importance to our future”. By relying on a dichotomous approach – us and them, white and black, past and present – Nelson emphasises the distance between this generation of Australia and any momentary unjust actions in the past. The belief is that time moves on – away from the past and towards the future. That advancement, progression and civilisation are linear movements, all heading towards a more enlightened state. “We will be at our best today – and every day – if we pause to place ourselves in the shoes of others, imbued with the imaginative capacity to see this issue through their eyes with decency and respect”. But where is the recognition that today’s experiences, the results of what has been created by the past, are also attached to the need to offer an apology? Nelson’s “we” (Anglo-Australians) are being asked to stop and think about how “they” (Aborigines) might see things differently to the mainstream norm. The implication here also is that “they” – members of the Stolen Generations – must be prepared to understand the position white Australia is coming from, and acknowledge the good that white Australia has achieved. Anglo-Australian pride and achievement is reinforced throughout the address as the basis on which our national identity is understood. Ignoring its exclusion and silencing of the Indigenous Australians to whom his “sorry” is directed, Nelson perpetuates this ideology here in his address: “In brutally harsh conditions, from the small number of early British settlers our non Indigenous ancestors have given us a nation the envy of any in the world”. This gift of a nation where there was none before disregards the acts of invasion, segregation, protection and assimilation that characterise the colonisation of this nation. It also reverts to romanticised settler notions of triumph over great adversities – a notion that could just as easily be attached to Indigenous Australians yet Nelson specifically addresses “our non Indigenous ancestors”. He does add “But Aboriginal Australians made involuntary sacrifices, different but no less important, to make possible the economic and social development of our modern [my emphasis] Australia.” Indigenous Australians certainly made voluntary sacrifices, similar to and different from those made by non Indigenous Australians (Indigenous Australians also went to both World Wars and fought for this nation) and a great deal of “our modern” country’s economic success was achieved on the backs of Blackfellas (Taylor 9). But “involuntary sacrifices” is surely a contradiction in terms, either intellectually shoddy or breathtakingly disingenuous. To make a sacrifice is to do it voluntarily, to give something up for a greater good. “Involuntary sacrifices”, like “collateral damage” and other calculatedly cold-blooded euphemisms, conveniently covers up the question of who was doing what to whom – of who was sacrificed, and by whom. In the attempt to construct a basis of equal contribution between Indigenous and non-Indigenous, as well as equal acts of struggle and triumphing, Nelson’s account of history and nation building draws from the positioning of the oppressors but tries to suppress any notion of racial oppression. It maintains the separateness of Indigenous experiences of colonisation from the colonisers themselves. His reiteration that these occasional acts of unjustness came from benevolent and charitable white Australians privileges non-Indigenous ways of knowing and doing over Indigenous ones and attempts to present them as untainted and innate as opposed to repressive, discriminatory and racist. We honour those in our past who have suffered and all those who have made sacrifices for us by the way we live our lives and shape our nation. Today we recommit to do so – as one people. (Nelson) The political need to identify as “one people” drives assimilation policies (the attitude at the very heart of removing Aboriginal children on the basis that they were Aboriginal and needed to be absorbed into one society of whites). By honouring everyone, and therefore taking the focus off any act of unjustness by non-Indigenous peoples on Indigenous peoples, Nelson’s narrative again upholds an idea of contemporary national identity that has not only romanticised the past but ignores the inequalities of the present day. He spends a good few hundred words reminding his listeners that white Australia deserves to maintain its hard won position. And there is no doubt he is talking to white Australia – his focus is on Western constructs of patriotism and success. He reverts to settler/colonial discourse to uphold ideas of equity and access: These generations considered their responsibilities to their country and one another more important than their rights. They did not buy something until they had saved up for it and values were always more important than value. Living in considerably more difficult times, they had dreams for our nation but little money. Theirs was a mesh of values enshrined in God, King and Country and the belief in something greater than yourself. Neglectful indifference to all they achieved while seeing their actions in the separations only, through the values of our comfortable, modern Australia, will be to diminish ourselves. In “the separations only…” highlights Nelson’s colonial logic, which compartmentalises time, space, people and events and tries to disconnect one colonial act from another. The ideology, attitudes and policies that allowed the taking of Indigenous children were not separate from all other colonial and colonising acts and processes. The desire for a White Australia, a clear cut policy which was in existence at the same time as protection, removal and assimilation policies, cannot be disassociated from either the taking of children or the creation of this “comfortable, modern Australia” today. “Neglectful indifference to all they achieved” could aptly be applied to Indigenous peoples throughout Australian history – pre and post invasion. Where is the active acknowledgment of the denial of Indigenous rights so that “these generations [of non-Indigenous Australians could] consider their responsibilities to their country and one another more important than their rights”? Nelson adheres to the colonialist national narrative to focus on the “positive”, which Patrick Wolfe has argued in his critique of settler colonialism, is an attempt to mask disruptive moments that reveal the scope of state and national power over Aboriginal Australians (33). After consistently reinforcing the colonial/settler narrative, Nelson’s address moves on to insert Indigenous Australians into a well-defined and confined space within a specific chapter of that narrative. His perfunctory overview of the first seven decades of the 20th century alludes to Protection Boards and Reserves, assimilation policies and Christianisation, all underlined with white benevolence. Having established the innocent, inherently humane and decent motivations of “white families”, he resorts to appropriating Indigenous people’s stories and experiences. In the retelling of these stories, two prominent themes in Nelson’s text become apparent. White fellas were only trying to help the poor Blackfella back then, and one need only glance at Aboriginal communities today to see that white fellas are only trying to help the poor Blackfella again. It is reasonably argued that removal from squalor led to better lives – children fed, housed and educated for an adult world of [sic] which they could not have imagined. However, from my life as a family doctor and knowing the impact of my own father’s removal from his unmarried teenaged mother, not knowing who you are is the source of deep, scarring sorrows the real meaning of which can be known only to those who have endured it. No one should bring a sense of moral superiority to this debate in seeking to diminish the view that good was being sought to be done. (Nelson) A sense of moral superiority is what motivates colonisation: it is what motivated the enforced removal of children. The reference to “removal from squalor” is somewhat reminiscent of the 1909 Aborigines Protection Act. Act No. 25, 1909, section 11(1) which states: The board may, in accordance with and subject to the provisions of the Apprentices Act, 1901, by indenture bind or cause to be bound the child of any aborigine, or the neglected child of any person apparently having an admixture of aboriginal blood in his veins, to be apprenticed to any master, and may collect and institute proceedings for the recovery of any wages payable under such indenture, and may expend the same as the board may think fit in the interest of the child. Every child so apprenticed shall be under the supervision of the board, or of such person that may be authorised in that behalf by the regulations. (144) Neglect was often defined as simply being Aboriginal. The representation that being removed would lead to a better life relies on Western attitudes about society and culture. It dismisses any notion of Indigenous rights to be Indigenous and defines a better life according to how white society views it. Throughout most of the 1900s, Aboriginal children that were removed to experience this better life were trained in positions of servants. Nelson’s inclusion of his own personal experience as a non Indigenous Australian who has experienced loss and sorrow sustains his textual purpose to reduce human experiences to a common ground, an equal footing – to make all injustices equal. And he finishes the paragraph off with the subtle reminder that this “sorry” is only for “those” Aboriginal Australians that were removed in the first seven decades of last century. After retelling the experience of one Indigenous person as told to the National Inquiry into the Separation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Children from their Families, he retells the experience of an Indigenous woman as told to a non-Indigenous man. The appropriate protocols concerning the re-using of Indigenous knowledge and intellectual copyright appeared to be absent in this address. Not only does the individual remain unacknowledged but the potential for misappropriating Indigenous experiences for non Indigenous purposes is apparent. The insertion of the story dismisses the importance of the original act of telling, and the significance of the unspeakable through decades of silence. Felman presents the complexities of the survivor’s tale: “the victim’s story has to overcome not just the silence of the dead but the indelible coercive power of the oppressor’s terrifying, brutal silencing of the surviving, and the inherent speechless silence of the living in the face of an unthinkable, unknowable, ungraspable event” (227). In telling this story Nelson unravelled the foundation of equality he had attempted to resurrect. And his indication towards current happenings in the Northern Territory only served to further highlight the inequities that Indigenous peoples continue to face, resist and surpass. Nelson’s statement that “separation was then, and remains today, a painful but necessary part of public policy in the protection of children” is another reminder of the “indelible coercive power of the oppressor’s terrifying” potential to repeat history. The final unmasking of the hypocritical and contested nature of Nelson’s national ideology and narrative is in his telling of the “facts” – the statistics concerning Indigenous life expectancy, Indigenous infant mortality rates, “diabetes, kidney disease, hospitalisation of women from assault, imprisonment, overcrowding, educational underperformance and unemployment”. These statistics are a result not of what Nelson terms “existential aimlessness” (immediately preceding paragraph) but of colonisation – theft of land, oppression, abuse, discrimination, and lack of any rights whether citizenship or Aboriginal. These contemporary experiences of Indigenous peoples are the direct linear result of the last two hundred years of white nation building. The address is concluded with mention of Neville Bonner, portrayed here as the perfect example of what reading, writing, expressing yourself with dignity and treating people with decency and courtesy can achieve. Bonner is presented as the ‘ideal’ Blackfella, a product of the assimilation period: he could read and write and was dignified, decent and courteous (and, coincidentally, Liberal). The inclusion of this reference to Bonner in the address may hint at the “My best friend is an Aborigine” syndrome (Heiss 71), but it also provides a discursive example to the listener of the ways in which ‘equalness’ is suggested, assumed, privileged or denied. It is a reminder, in the same vein of Patten and Ferguson’s fights for rights, that what is equal has always been apparent to the colonised. Your present official attitude is one of prejudice and misunderstanding … we are no more dirty, lazy stupid, criminal, or immoral than yourselves. Also, your slanders against our race are a moral lie, told to throw all the blame for your troubles on to us. You, who originally conquered us by guns against our spears, now rely on superiority of numbers to support your false claims of moral and intellectual superiority. After 150 years, we ask you to review the situation and give us a fair deal – a New Deal for Aborigines. The cards have been stacked against us, and we now ask you to play the game like decent Australians. Remember, we do not ask for charity, we ask for justice. Nelson quotes Bonner’s words that “[unjust hardships] can only be changed when people of non Aboriginal extraction are prepared to listen, to hear what Aboriginal people are saying and then work with us to achieve those ends”. The need for non-Indigenous Australians to listen, to be shaken out of their complacent equalness appears to have gone unheard. Fiumara, in her philosophy of listening, states: “at this point the opportunity is offered for becoming aware that the compulsion to win is due less to the intrinsic difficulty of the situation than to inhibitions induced by a non-listening language that prevents us from seeing that which would otherwise be clear” (198). It is this compulsion to win, or to at least not be seen to be losing that contributes to the unequalness of this particular “sorry” and the need to construct an equal footing. This particular utterance of sorry does not come from an acknowledged place of difference and its attached history of colonisation; instead it strives to create a foundation based on a lack of anyone being positioned on the high moral ground. It is an irony that pervades the address considering it was the coloniser’s belief in his/her moral superiority that took the first child to begin with. Nelson’s address attempts to construct the utterance of “sorry”, and its intended meaning in this specific context, on ‘equal’ ground: his representation is that we are all Australians, “us” and ‘them’ combined, “we” all suffered and made sacrifices; “we” all deserve respect and equal acknowledgment of the contribution “we” all made to this “enviable” nation. And therein lies the unequalness, the inequality, the injustice, of this particular “sorry”. This particular “sorry” is born from and maintains the structures, policies, discourses and language that led to the taking of Indigenous children in the first place. In his attempt to create a “sorry” that drew equally from the “charitable” as well as the “misjudged” deeds of white Australia, Nelson’s “We Are Sorry – Address to Parliament” increased the experiences of inequality. Chow writes that in the politics of admittance the equal depends on “acceptance by permission … and yet, being ‘admitted’ is never simply a matter of possessing the right permit, for validation and acknowledgment must also be present for admittance to be complete” (36-37). References Augoustinos, Martha, Amanda LeCouteur, and John Soyland. “Self-Sufficient Arguments in Political Rhetoric: Constructing Reconciliation and Apologizing to the Stolen Generations.” Discourse and Society 13.1 (2002): 105-142.Bringing Them Home: National Inquiry into the Separation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Children from Their Families. Sydney: Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission, 1997.Aborigines Protection Act 1909: An Act to Provide for the Protection and Care of Aborigines; To Repeal the Supply of Liquors Aborigines Prevention Act; To Amend the Vagrancy Act, 1902, and the Police Offences (Amendment) Act, 1908; And for Purposes Consequent Thereon or Incidental Thereto. Assented to 20 Dec. 1909. Digital Collections: Books and Serial, National Library of Australia. 24 Mar. 2008 < http://www.nla.gov.au/apps/cdview?pi=nla.aus-vn71409-9x-s1-v >.Chow, Rey. “The Politics of Admittance: Female Sexual Agency, Miscegenation and the Formation of Community in Frantz Fanon.” In Anthony C. Alessandrini, ed. Frantz Fanon: Critical Perspectives. London: Routledge, 1999. 34-56.Felman, Shoshana. “Theaters of Justice: Arendt in Jerusalem, the Eichmann Trial and the Redefinition of Legal Meaning in the Wake of the Holocaust.” Critical Inquiry 27.2 (2001): 201-238.Fiumara, Gemma Corradi. The Other Side of Language: A Philosophy of Listening. London and New York: Routledge, 2006.Heiss, Anita. I’m Not a Racist But… UK: Salt Publishing, 2007.Janca, Aleksandar, and Clothilde Bullen. “Aboriginal Concept of Time and Its Mental Health Implications.” Australian Psychiatry 11 (Supplement 2003): 40-44.Nelson, Brendan. “We Are Sorry – Address to Parliament.” 14 Feb. 2008 < http://www.liberal.org.au/info/news/detail/20080213_ WearesorryAddresstoParliament.php >.Patten, Jack, and William Ferguson. Aborigines Claim Citizen Rights! A Statement for the Aborigines Progressive Association. Sydney: The Publicist, 1938.Taylor, Martin, and James Francis. Bludgers in Grass Castles: Native Title and the Unpaid Debts of the Pastoral Industry. Chippendale: Resistance Books, 1997.William, Ross. “‘Why Should I Feel Guilty?’ Reflections on the Workings of White-Aboriginal Relations.” Australian Psychologist 35.2 (2000): 136-142.Wolfe, Patrick. Settler Colonialism and the Transformation of Anthropology: The Politics and Poetics of an Ethnographic Event. London and New York: Cassell, 1999.