Journal articles on the topic 'Investments, British Australia Case studies'

Women are occasionally governors of prisons for women, overseers of the poor, and parish clerks. A woman may be ranger of a park; a woman can take part in the government of a great empire by buying East India Stock.— Barbara Bodichon, A Brief Summary in Plain Language, of the Most Important Laws Concerning Women (1854)ON OCTOBER 5, 1860, GEORGE HENRY LEWES VISITED a solicitor in London to consult about investments. He wrote in his journal: “[The Solicitor] took me to a stockbroker, who undertook to purchase 95 shares in the Great Indian Peninsular Railway for Polly. For £1825 she gets £1900 worth of stock guaranteed 5%” (qtd. in Ashton, Lewes 210). Thus Marian Evans, called Polly by her close friends, known in society as Mrs. Lewes and to her reading public as George Eliot, became a shareholder in British India. Whether or not Eliot thought of buying stock as taking part in the government of a great empire, as her friend Barbara Bodichon had written in 1854, the 5% return on her investment was a welcome supplement to the income she had been earning from her fiction since 1857. From 1860 until her death in 1880, she was one of a select but growing number of middle-class investors who took advantage of high-yield colonial stocks.1 Lewes’s journals for 1860–1878 and Eliot’s diaries for 1879–80 list dividends from stocks in Australia, South Africa, India, and Canada. These include: New South Wales, Victoria, Cape of Good Hope, Cape Town Rail, Colonial Bank, Oriental Bank, Scottish Australian, Great Indian Peninsula, Madras. The Indian and colonial stocks make up just less than half of the total holdings. Other stocks connected to colonial trade (East and West India Docks, London Docks), domestic stocks (the Consols, Regents Canal), and foreign investments (Buenos Aires, Pittsburgh and Ft. Wayne) complete the portfolio.2

If Conservative Party leader Winston Churchill fought World War II determined not to be the prime minister who lost the Empire, Clement Attlee, Ernest Bevin, and Herbert Morrison, who as Labour members of the Coalition government served with him, were equally determined to hold on to Empire once peace was won. The Empire/Commonwealth offered both political and economic benefits to Labour. Politically, the Commonwealth provided substance for Britain's pretensions to a world power role equal in stature to the new superpowers of the United States and the Soviet Union. For this claim to be effective, however, the Commonwealth needed to be demographically strong and firmly united under British leadership. Economically, imperial preferences and the sterling area offered a financial buffer against Britain's true plight of accumulated wartime debts and major infrastructural damage and neglect. Receiving over 40 percent of British exports and providing substantial, and in the case of Australia and New Zealand, dollar-free imports of meat, wheat, timber, and dairy produce, the Commonwealth seemed a logical body on which the United Kingdom could draw for financial support. In short, postwar policy makers believed preservation of the Empire/Commonwealth to be a necessary first step in domestic and foreign reconstruction.Yet in 1945, a variety of circumstances combined to make the task of imperial preservation one of reconstitution rather than simple maintenance. First, it seemed that, just at the moment when Britain needed them most, some of the strongest and oldest members of the Commonwealth appeared to be moving away.

During the last decade, a range of indicators has been advocated for assessing soil, farm and catchment health. This paper assembles some recent experiences of the authors in developing and using indicators from paddock to national scales. Indicators are merely a subset of the attributes that are used to quantify aspects of catchment or farm health. Their selection and use in the past has led to criticism of indicators, but, given an explicit approach, most of the criticisms can be overcome. Reliable indicators provide positive and negative signals about the current status of natural resources and how these properties have changed over time. They are used both to identify potential risks and to confirm that current farming practices and systems of land use are effective in maintaining the resource base or economic status. They should be precursors for change and future on-ground investments when problems are observed or identified.A structured approach is needed to ensure indicators are selected and used efficiently. This approach involves: deciding local issues and selecting the most appropriate indicators to reflect those issues; interpreting both positive and negative signals from the monitoring process; taking appropriate action to resolve problems; and, using indicators to monitor the outcomes from the action taken.Finally, we have drawn on these and other experiences to compile a list of indicators that may be used to address sustainability issues associated with farm productivity, soil health and catchment health identified in recent strategic plans developed for the northern grains region of Australia, the focus of this special journal issue.

Australia is transitioning to become an energy superpower—the $43 billion Gorgon LNG project and the other comparably sized projects lining up behind the Gorgon project confirm this. There are predictions that around $80 billion of CAPEX on LNG projects will be approved for expenditure for the 2010 financial year with much more to be invested in the following years. And, we are on the cusp of further coal seam gas developments in Queensland, which could see annual production rise from 130 to more than 3,000 petajoules per annum once the infrastructure is in place. What are the skills needed to realise the true potential of these investments? An appropriate asset management plan is key. Asset management is more than the provision of maintenance services—it is about developing a systematic approach to managing an asset during its life and achieving the outputs required by the owner of the asset. Program and project management of brownfield capital works, maintenance services and infrastructure projects are also essential technical capabilities to help meet the demand of the burgeoning LNG and coal seam gas industries. These skills will determine who can deliver on schedule, or ahead of it. The other key capability will be mobilising, managing and retaining people. There is speculation that the Queensland coal seam gas industry alone will generate approximately 12,000 jobs. The industry needs to be prepared to be innovative in engaging, training and upskilling people. As the only true global resources and industrial provider in Australia, Transfield Services will share its key learnings on effectively managing assets, projects and people from its work with clients including Canada’s largest energy company, Suncor Energy.

Huge investments have been carried out in sports teams and professional sports leagues all over the world. There are different sports that are popular in different parts of the world. In the United States, it's American Football, in Europe and UK it is Football (soccer); in the Indian sub-continent and Australia, it is Cricket that attracts the largest crowd. The research analyses this business of investments in sports leagues around the world. The paper looks at the potential interest in investing in clubs and team franchises of sports leagues. The aim of this paper was to find out the attractiveness and risks, economically and financially, involved in the Global business of sports leagues and the Involvement of business in the field of sports and critically analyze different business models used in the field of sports leagues for conducting business globally. The research utilized the primary data through questionnaires, case studies, and secondary data through government agencies like the census bureau, information compiled for sale by commercial vendors, data published by universities, government, equity research, reports, trade association newsletter, etc. The research concluded sports have always been a unique game of business for players and investing organizations. However, the research recommended the franchise business model used for the business is the appropriate model for conducting business in the field of sports leagues.

Huge investments have been carried out in sports teams and professional sports leagues all over the world. There are different sports that are popular in different parts of the world. In the United States, it's American Football, in Europe and UK it is Football (soccer); in the Indian sub-continent and Australia, it is Cricket that attracts the largest crowd. The research analyses this business of investments in sports leagues around the world. The paper looks at the potential interest in investing in clubs and team franchises of sports leagues. The aim of this paper was to find out the attractiveness and risks, economically and financially, involved in the Global business of sports leagues and the Involvement of business in the field of sports and critically analyze different business models used in the field of sports leagues for conducting business globally. The research utilized the primary data through questionnaires, case studies, and secondary data through government agencies like the census bureau, information compiled for sale by commercial vendors, data published by universities, government, equity research, reports, trade association newsletter, etc. The research concluded sports have always been a unique game of business for players and investing organizations. However, the research recommended the franchise business model used for the business is the appropriate model for conducting business in the field of sports leagues.

AbstractThis article argues for the importance of an exploration of sporting interactions in the British world. In addition, it presents the case for the adaptation of borderlands theory to the British world framework. Such study of British world borderlands is capable of more accurately capturing the spatial and regional variety of this British world and, in particular, the nascent national identities of dominions such as Australia. Sport is a particularly apt vehicle for the examination of such issues in an Australian context, since playing to the ‘imaginary grandstand’ of international spectators has always occupied a central role in the construction of an Australian national identity. This article uses three brief case studies – cricket, swimming, and Australian Rules football – to explore these theoretical claims.

Biotelemetry data have been successfully incorporated into aspects of fishery and fish habitat management; however, the processes of knowledge mobilization are rarely published in peer-reviewed literature but are valuable and of interest to conservation scientists. Here, we explore case examples from the Ocean Tracking Network (OTN), including Pacific salmon (Oncorhynchus spp.) in British Columbia, Canada; Greenland halibut (Reinhardtius hippoglossoides) in Cumberland Sound, Canada; and lemon sharks (Negaprion brevirostris) in Florida, USA, to document key processes for science integration. Typical recommendations documented in the literature (e.g., co-production of knowledge, transdisciplinary methodologies, applied research questions) were recorded to have had successful fisheries management integration, although we documented some exceptions. In each case, it was early, active, and ongoing communication outside of traditional science communication and the visual evidence of fish movement that were critical in engaging all parties with a vested interest. Networks offer forums for knowledge sharing on lessons learned and development of skills to engage in active communication. Greater investments and attention to develop these skills are needed to foster positive and active relationships that can impart real change in management and conservation.

The previous Abbott government had prioritized a general attitude to foreign policy captured by the phrase “Jakarta not Geneva,” which signified a preference for bilateral or minilateral interactions with the region rather than United Nations-based multilateralism. With Julie Bishop MP as Australia’s first female foreign minister, the Coalition also prioritized economic diplomacy, as exemplified by the repeated refrain that Australia is “open for business.” This approach led to a preference for diplomatic venues and processes that focused on continuing investments in regional architecture, new emphasis on minilateral dialogues such as the Indian Ocean Rim Association (IORA) and Mexico, Indonesia, Korea, Turkey, and Australia (MIKTA), and more effort directed to bilateral and plurilateral processes such as the Trans-Pacific Partnership trade negotiations. This approach has been continued under Prime Minister Turnbull, with a renewed focus on innovation. Part 1 considers minilateral and regional investments in the Indo-Pacific region, primarily, IORA, the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC), and the Association of South East Asian Nations (ASEAN). I consider MIKTA a unique vehicle for Australian diplomacy. Part 2 considers what issues Australia should be pursuing through these forums, with a focus on the two themes of gender equality (as an example of niche diplomacy) and trade (multilateralism under pressure) as case studies. Beeson and Higgott argue that middle powers have the potential to successfully implement “games of skill,” especially at moments of international transition. How skilful have Australia’s efforts been in these minilateral dialogues, enhanced regionalism, and plurilateral processes, and what more can be achieved in these forums? Are these efforts creating more fragmentation of the rules-based order, or are they a way to overcome global governance stalemates? I set out the arguments for whether Australia, as a pivotal power, should generate more global options, or be more focused on inclusion in the Asia-Pacific region.

During the year 1888 — the centenary of white settlement — Australia celebrated the jubilee of Queen Victoria together with the advent of electricity to light Tamworth, the first town in the Southern Hemisphere to receive that boon. In the north-eastern colony of Queensland, serious debates involving local administrators included membership of the Federal Council, the annexation of British New Guinea and the merits of a separation movement in the north. In this distant colony, events in Ireland — such as Belfast attaining city status or Oscar Wilde publishing The happy prince and other tales — had little immediate global impact. Nevertheless, minds were focused on Irish matters in October, when the scion of a well-established west Ireland family — a select member of the traditional Tribes of Galway, no less — was named as the new governor of Queensland. The administrators of the developing colony roundly challenged the imperial nominators, invoking a storm that incited strong opinions from responsible governments throughout Australia and around the world.

Australia remains in pole position to become the world’s leading exporter of liquefied natural gas (LNG) and the number one exporter in the future. Maintaining this trajectory will require the oil and gas industry in Australia to remain competitive in project delivery to continue to attract investments. Yet, the Australian project delivery environment poses a big threat to this trajectory. Several research studies, organisations and institutions have come up with a long list of generic factors contributing to project management success and failure. The aim of this study is to examine oil and gas projects in Australia with a view to ascertain their success or otherwise and the specific contributing factors. This study has used a qualitative method of research by examining secondary sources of information on four recent Western Australia LNG projects (Gorgon, Wheatstone, Prelude and Ichthys) and presenting them as case studies. Specifically, the research has used mostly online sources that are either independent reports or information sourced from company websites. The key findings suggest that major oil and gas projects in Australia fail, and that failure or success is determined by the ability of the project management team to deliver the project on budget and on schedule. This is exemplified by the projects examined in this study, which have all shown cost and schedule overruns. Six critical factors are observed as contributing to cost and schedule overrun: project location, high cost of executing projects in Australia versus overseas, skills shortages, overseas manufacturing, project complexity and cultural and environment issues. Innovation, collaboration and standardisation, as adopted from other regions, are the initial practices suggested for the Australian industry to overcome all six factors and encourage further investment.

Australia is a country firmly part of the Global North, yet geographically located in the Global South. This North-in-South divide plays out internally within Australia given its status as a British settler-colonial society which continues to perpetrate imperial and colonial practices vis-à-vis the Indigenous peoples and vis-à-vis Australia’s neighboring countries in the Asia-Pacific region. This article draws on and discusses five seminal examples forming a case study on Australia to examine big data practices through the lens of Southern Theory from a criminological perspective. We argue that Australia’s use of big data cements its status as a North-in-South environment where colonial domination is continued via modern technologies to effect enduring informational imperialism and digital colonialism. We conclude by outlining some promising ways in which data practices can be decolonized through Indigenous Data Sovereignty but acknowledge these are not currently the norm; so Australia’s digital colonialism/coloniality endures for the time being.

A Narrative of the Sufferings of Maria Bennett, a crudely printed, eight-page pamphlet, was published in Dublin in spring 1846. It has been interpreted as an early fiction concerning New Zealand, or alternatively as a New Zealand ‘captivity narrative’, possibly based on the author’s own experiences. Against these readings, it is argued here that Maria Bennett, more concerned with Ireland than New Zealand, is a piece of pro-British propaganda hurried out in connection with the British Government’s ‘Protection of Life (Ireland) Bill’ ‐ generally referred to simply as the ‘Coercion Bill’ ‐ first debated on 23 February 1846. The Great Famine had begun with the substantial failure of Ireland’s staple potato crop in autumn 1845. This led to an increase in lawlessness, and the Government planned to combine its relief measures with draconian new security regulations. The story of Maria Bennett, a fictional young Irishwoman transported to Australia but shipwrecked in New Zealand, was designed to advertise the humanity of British law. Having escaped from the Māori, she manages to get to London, where she is pardoned by Sir James Graham, the Home Secretary, the man responsible for the Coercion Bill. New Zealand, imagined at the very beginning of the British colonial era, functions in the text as a dark analogy to Ireland, a sort of pristine example of the ‘savage’ conditions making British rule necessary and desirable in the first place. A hungry, lawless Ireland could descend to that level of uncivilization, unless, the propagandist urges, it accepts more British law.

AbstractThe recent enactment of the Racial and Religious Hatred Act 2006 makes it (for the first time) unlawful to incite hatred on religious grounds in England and Wales. This legislation has however been attacked by a number of Muslims on the basis that it is too rigidly drawn, and that the scope of the offence of incitement to religious hatred is narrower than comparable legislation governing incitement to racial hatred. In critically analysing the Racial and Religious Hatred Act 2006, this article makes particular reference to the recent Islamic Council of Victoria case in Australia on religious vili cation and hate speech which, it is suggested, provides a salutary lesson to those who would seek to expand the remit of the Act. It is argued that the Racial and Religious Hatred Act is not merely a symbolically important measure, but is also a fair and workable compromise which protects faith groups from incitement to religious hatred without placing excessive curbs on free speech.

AbstractCollaborative archaeology is a growing field within the discipline, albeit one that is rarely analyzed. Although collaborative approaches are varied and diverse, we argue that they can all share a single methodological framework. Moreover, we suggest that collaborative archaeology projects can be evaluated to determine the variety among projects and to identify the elements of engaged research. We provide two case studies emphasizing project evaluation: (1) inter-project evaluation of community-engagement in British Columbia archaeology and (2) intra-project evaluation of co-management archaeology projects in Western Australia. The two case studies highlight that project evaluation is possible and that a single framework can be applied to many different types of projects. Collaborative archaeology requires analysis and evaluation to determine what facilitates engagement to further the discipline and to create better connections between archaeologists and community members. The discussed case studies illustrate two shared methods for accomplishing this. The paper argues that collaborative approaches are necessary for advancing archaeological practice.

Between 1870 and 1970 the migration of 26 million people from Italy produced an uneven geography of Little Italies worldwide. Migrants initially clustered residentially in many lands, and their festivals, businesses, monuments and practices of everyday life also attracted negative commentary everywhere. But neighbourhoods labelled as Little Italies came to exist almost exclusively in North America and Australia. Comparison of Italy's migrants in the three most important former ‘settler colonies’ of the British Empire (the USA, Canada, Australia) to other world regions suggests why this was the case. Little Italies were, to a considerable extent, the product of what Robert F. Harney termed the Italo-phobia of the English-speaking world. English-speakers’ understandings of race and their history of anti-Catholicism helped to create an ideological foundation for fixing foreignness upon urban spaces occupied by immigrants who seemed racially different from the earlier Anglo-Celtic and northern European settlers.

AbstractThe history of prefabrication in settler Australia is incomplete. The use of prefabricated and transportable buildings in existing Australian architectural histories focuses on colonial importation from Britain, Asia, America and New Zealand. This article, however, argues for a more diverse and local history of prefabrication — one that considers Indigenous people’s use of prefabrication and draws on archaeological research of abandoned military ventures, revealing an Australian-made, colonial prefabricated building industry that existed for over 40 years, from the 1800s to the 1840s. A more inclusive architectural history of prefabrication is considered in relation to a case study of the first European house erected in Moreton Bay at the British penal outpost of Red Cliffe Point (1824–25), a settlement established partly to contribute to British territory-marking on Australia’s distant coastlines. While existing histories prioritise transportability and ease of assembly as features of prefabricated buildings, this research has found that ease of disassembly, relocation and recycling of building components is a key feature of prefabrication in early abandoned British military garrisons.

In the 1950s and 1960s modernist town planning reordered countless cities through urban renewal and freeway-building projects. Applying rational planning expertise generated emotional responses that often lingered long after redevelopment occurred. This article considers the emotional response to urban renewal in two cities advised by the British town planner Gordon Stephenson. In Perth, Australia, Stephenson was amongst a group of experts who planned a freeway that obliterated part of the valued river environment and threatened a historic structure. In Halifax, Stephenson prepared the initial scientific study used to justify dismantling part of the downtown and a historic black community on the urban fringe. While the Perth case generated an explosion of emotional intensity that failed to prevent environmental despoliation but saved some heritage assets, the Halifax example initiated a lingering emotional dispute involving allegations of neglect and racism. Comparing cases resulting from the activities of a noted practitioner illustrates differing emotional trajectories produced in the wake of the modernist planning project.

This article examines the development of tactics in radical environmentalist protests against new roads and other environmental issues in Britain during the 1990s. These tactics depend heavily upon the technical creativity of protesters. Their repertoire has been influenced by British traditions of non-violent direct action and by tactics used previously by radical environmentalists in other countries, notably Australia. This form of non-violent direct action is defined here as manufactured vulnerability because of its reliance on technical devices to prolong vulnerability. Much evidence in this case confirms past studies of how new action forms are developed. Evidence also suggests that development of tactics in radical environmental groups is particularly likely to be influenced by latent networks of activists and cross-national diffusion.

The sons of famous men sometimes fail to succeed in life, particularly if they suffer parental neglect in their childhood and youth. Ira Daniel Aldridge is a case in point-a promising lad who in his formative years lacked sustained contact with his father, a celebrated touring black actor whose peripatetic career in the British Isles and later on the European continent kept him away from home for long periods. When the boy rebelled as a teenager, his father sent him abroad, forcing him to make his own way in the world. Ira Daniel settled in Australia, married, and had children, but he found it difficult to support a family. Eventually, he turned to crime and wound up spending many years in prison. The son of an absent father, he too became an absent father to his own sons, who also suffered as a consequence.

AbstractThis article explores the removal or exclusion in the late 1940s of people in interracial marriages from two corners of the newly formed Commonwealth of Nations, Australia and Britain's southern African colonies. The stories of Ruth and Sereste Khama, exiled from colonial Botswana, and those of Chinese refugees threatened with deportation and separation from their white Australian wives, reveal how legal rearticulations in the immediate postwar era created new, if quixotic, points of opposition for ordinary people to make their voices heard. As the British Empire became the Commonwealth, codifying the freedoms of the imperial subject, and ideas of universal human rights “irrespective of race, color, or creed” slowly emerged, and claims of rights long denied seemed to take on a renewed meaning. The sanctity of marriage and family, which played central metaphorical and practical roles for both the British Empire and the United Nations, was a primary motor of contention in both cases, and was mobilized in both metaphorical and practical ways to press for change. Striking similarities between our chosen case studies reveal how ideals of imperial domesticity and loyalty, and the universalism of the new global “family of man,” were simultaneously invoked to undermine discourses of racial purity. Our analysis makes a significant contribution to studies of gender and empire, as well as the history of human rights, an ideal which in the late 1940s was being vernacularized alongside existing forms of claim-making and political organization in local contexts across the world.

Historical ecology documents environmental change with scientific precepts, commonly by using statistical analyses of numerical data to test specific hypotheses. It is usually undertaken by ecologists. An alternative approach to understanding the natural world, undertaken instead by historians, geographers, sociologists, resource economists or literary critics, is environmental history. It attempts to explain in cultural terms why and how environmental change takes place. This essay outlines 10 case studies that show how rivers have affected perceptions and attitudes of the Australian community over the past 200+ years. They examine the influence at two contrasting scales, namely, the collective and the personal, by investigating the role that rivers had in the colonisation of Australia by the British in 1788, the establishment of capital cities, perceptions of and attitudes to the environment informed by explorers’ accounts of their journeys through inland Australia, the push for closer settlement by harnessing the country’s rivers for navigation and irrigation, anxiety about defence and national security, and the solastalgia occasioned by chronic environmental degradation. Historical ecology and environmental history are complementary intellectual approaches, and increased collaboration across the two disciplines should yield many benefits to historians, to ecologists, and to the conservation of Australian rivers more widely.

This paper is an account of the principles and practices of treatment offered at the Cassel Hospital, London, with a particular focus on the Inpatient Families Unit. The Cassel Hospital is an internationally renowned therapeutic community, the operation of which is based on psychoanalytic principles and which has operated within the British National Health Service for nearly 50 years. An account of the historical development of the hospital is given as well as a description of its structure and function. The following three innovative structures are elaborated: a complex network within which patients can develop, Cassel-style nursing care, and nurse-therapist supervision. Theoretical underpinnings are outlined, which together with two case studies facilitate an appreciation of the capacity of the therapeutic network to foster the successful treatment of a range of severely disordered individuals and families. Such treatment may approach a level perhaps otherwise unattainable and which is widely applicable in the public hospital and clinic settings in Australia.

Within feminist memory studies the economy has largely been overlooked, despite the fact that the economic analysis of culture and society has long featured in research on women and gender. This article addresses that gap, arguing that the global economy matters in understanding the gender of memory and memories of gender. It models the conceptual basis for the consideration of a feminist economic analysis of memory that can reveal the dimensions of mnemonic transformation, accumulation and exchange through gendered mnemonic labour, gendered mnemonic value and gendered mnemonic capital. The article then applies the concepts of mnemonic labour and mnemonic capital in more detail through a case study of memory activism examining the work of the Parragirls and the Parramatta Female Factory Precinct Memory Project (PFFP) in Sydney, Australia. The campaigns have worked to recognize the memory and history of the longest continuous site of female containment in Australia built to support the British invasion. The site in Parramatta, which dates from the 1820s, was a female factory for transported convicts, a female prison, an asylum for women and girls, an orphanage and then Parramatta Girls Home. The Burramattagal People of Darug Clan are the Traditional Owners of the land and the site is of practical and spiritual importance to indigenous women. This local struggle is representative of a global economic system of gendered institutionalized violence and forgetting, The analysis shows how the mnemonic labour of women survivors accumulates as mnemonic value that is then transformed into institutional mnemonic capital. Focusing on how mnemonic labour creates lasting mnemonic capital reveals the gendered dimensions of memory which are critical for ongoing memory work.

Abstract From the beginning of the twentieth century, new urban housing forms, including social housing, land pooling, and building syndicates, began to emerge as products of housing rights and labor movements. Yet this emergence cannot simply be accounted for by a history of workers' rights and housing movements but must also take into consideration the political economy of land and housing created by new forms of real estate speculation. This article situates the history of urban speculation and the new fiduciary innovations pertaining to urban land and housing markets within the scholarship on the development of architectural and town-planning theories during the early decades of the twentieth century. Focusing on Calcutta and Bombay—two central cities of the British Empire—as case studies, I will trace the history of how the housing market became a tradeable object of speculation through colonial policies that disentangled housing from its singular history and abstracted it out of its nonmonetizable attachments. Indeed, it is by understanding how the land and housing market became a site for future investments and ultimately was structured through new social relations and values following World War I that we might get a fuller understanding of how we arrived at our contemporary “residential capitalism” and landscapes of accumulation and homelessness.

ObjectivesPaediatric guidelines are lacking for management of spontaneous pneumothorax. Adult patient-focused guidelines (British Thoracic Society 2003 and 2010) introduced aspiration as first-line intervention for primary spontaneous pneumothorax (PSP) and small secondary spontaneous pneumothoraces (SSP). Paediatric practice is unclear, and evidence for aspiration success rates is urgently required to develop paediatric-specific recommendations.MethodsRetrospective analysis of PSP and SSP management at nine paediatric emergency departments across Australia and New Zealand (2003–2010) to compare PSP and SSP management.Results219 episodes of spontaneous pneumothorax occurred in 162 children (median age 15 years, 71% male); 155 PSP episodes in 120 children and 64 SSP episodes in 42 children. Intervention in PSP vs SSP episodes occurred in 55% (95% CI 47% to 62%) vs 70% (60% to 79%), p<0.05. An intercostal chest catheter (ICC) was used in 104/219 (47%) episodes. Aspiration was used in more PSP than in SSP episodes with interventions (27% (18% to 37%) vs 9% (3% to 21%), p<0.05). Aspiration success was 52% (33% to 70%) overall and not significantly different between PSP and SSP. Aspiration success was greater in small vs large pneumothoraces (80% (48% to 95%) vs 33% (14% to 61%), p=0.01). Small-bore ICCs were used in 40% of ICCs and usage increased during the study.ConclusionsIn this descriptive study of pneumothorax management, PSP and SSP management did not differ and ICC insertion was the continuing preferred intervention. Overall success of aspiration was lower than reported results for adults, although success was greater for small than for large pneumothoraces. Paediatric prospective studies are urgently required to determine optimal paediatric interventional management strategies.

Abstract That the great Scottish man of letters Thomas Carlyle (1795–1881) exercised a formative influence over late-nineteenth and early-twentieth-century ‘British Idealism’ has long been recognized by historians. Through works such as Sartor Resartus (1833–1834), Heroes and Hero-Worship (1841), Past and Present (1843), and Latter-Day Pamphlets (1850), Carlyle transmitted his ideas regarding the immanence of the divine in nature and man, the infinite character of duty, and the ethical role of the state to a generation of subsequent philosophers. The following article will extend this insight, arguing that through the agency of an array of migrant Scottish intellectuals, Carlyle’s writings made an equally significant contribution to the development of Idealism in Australia and New Zealand. In doing so, the article draws upon not only published treatises and monographs, but also speeches as reported in the local press, unpublished doctoral dissertations, and, in one notable case, archival sources. Together, these demonstrate beyond doubt the important and enduring contribution of Thomas Carlyle to Australasian Idealism.

Purpose The purpose of this study is to examine whether sustainable and responsible investing (SRI) outperforms the benchmark index investing across different time frames globally. Design/methodology/approach Based on the systematic weighted environmental, social and governance (ESG) ratings compiled by Thomson Reuters Asset4, the authors assess the stock market performance and risk of highly compliant firms portfolio in seven different countries; grouped as developed and developing nations over different time frames by adopting the Jensen’s alpha model (CAPM) and the Fama and French three-factor model. Findings The study finds that SRI portfolios significantly underperform their benchmark index, in case of, the developing nations, however, enjoy a significantly lower risk. This is contrary to the findings in case of developed nations, where the US SRI portfolio has significantly outperformed the benchmark index and the UK and Australia SRI portfolios have performed in line with the benchmark index. Finally, the study discusses results and implications for regulators, practitioners and investors’ who believe in the SRI investing. Research limitations/implications This study provides empirical support for the practitioners, policymakers and investors emphasizing that in the case of developed nations SRI investments generate a significant excess return or at the best perform in line with the broader market index. However, in the case of developing nations, very few firms are consistently rated on ESG parameters. This provides lesser options for investors in developing nations to apply the “impact first” philosophy of investment. The investor’s community and regulators need to make a serious effort in promoting firms to take up sustainability effort seriously. Originality/value The unique contribution of this study is that it considers a wider definition of the term “sustainability” and examines the performance of SRI investment in developed vs developing countries. This is one of the few studies at the global level, which highlights whether sustainable investing generates abnormal risk-adjusted returns for the investors.

Most historians maintain that Mexican revolutionary nationalism reached its apex during the presidency of Láázaro Cáárdenas (1934––1940), as evidenced by the oil expropriation of 1938. However, British historian Alan Knight recently has dismissed this traditional interpretation. Instead, he suggests, ““more than ever oil was a special case,”” and that otherwise moderation and pragmatism, rather than doctrinaire nationalism, characterized Cardenista foreign investment policies. This argument is based on insufficient consideration of developments in other sectors. Toward answering the central question, ““What were the factors influencing the Cardenista government's divergent policies toward foreign investments and corporations operating in different industries?”” this article looks at the (scarcely studied) telephone industry. Between 1935 and 1940, the Cáárdenas government, led by Secretary of Communications Francisco J. Múúgica, waged an increasingly intense conflict against two telephone transnational corporations over monopoly, tariffs, taxes, and corporate nationality. The partial evidence drawn from the telephone industry tends to weaken Knight's position: oil was less exceptional than he suggests. Para la mayoríía de los historiadores, el nacionalismo revolucionario llegóó a su apogeo en Mééxico durante la presidencia de Láázaro Cáárdenas, tal como lo demuestra la expropiacióón petrolera de 1938. Esta interpretacióón convencional ha sido puesta en tela de juicio recientemente por el historííador britáánico Alan Knight. ÉÉste úúltimo sostiene que el episodio del petróóleo se tratóó máás bien de una ““excepcióón espectacular,”” y que, en realidad, laspolííticas cardenistas hacia el capital extranjero se caracterizaron por su ““moderacióón”” y ““pragmatismo.”” Los argumentos de Knight, sin embargo, se basan en informacióón históórica insuficiente de otros sectores. El objetivo principal del siguiente ensayo, es identificar algunos de los factores que influyeron en las polííticas divergentes del cardenismo hacia las empresas de propiedad extranjera, mediante el estudio de caso de la telefoníía. Entre 1935 y 1940, la administracióón cardenista, encabezada por su miembro máás radical, el Secretario de Comunicaciones y Obras Púúblicas Francisco J. Múúgica, entablóó un fuerte conflicto con las subsidiarias de dos grandes transnacionales, a raííz de los esfuerzos de los consorcios extranjeros por monopolizar los servicios telefóónicos en Mééxico. La evidencia indica que la animosidad del cardenismo hacia el capital extranjero fue menos excepcional de lo que Knight supone.

The necessity of funds for investment in capital intensive public projects has pushed public agencies to search for new procurement alternatives. Thus, in the early 1980s, the idea of private finance initiative (PFI) as a method of financing large-scale, capital intensive projects emerged in Australia. The method is aimed at resolving the shortage of public funds for major investments through the funding capability of private entities. Later, the method was widely used by other governments with the same name or different names such as BOT (build-operate-transfer) in the countries having different legal structures. This paper describes the mechanism of PFI used by the UK Government and evaluates three case studies in achieving the essential characteristics of adequate risk transfer and value for money to the taxpayer. Santrauka Fondų poreikis investuoti į intensyvaus kapitalo viešuosius projektus pastūmėjo viešąsias įstaigas ieškoti naujų turto įsigijimo alternatyvų. Dar praeito amžiaus devintajame dešimtmetyje Australijoje atsirado būdas finansuoti didžiulius, daug kapitalo reikalaujančius projektus – privataus finansavimo iniciatyvos idėja. Šiuo metodu siekiama išspręsti viešųjų lėšų trūkumo problemą, daugeliu atvejų skiriant lėšas iš privačių organizacijų fondų. Vėliau minėtąjį metodą plačiai taikė kitų šalių su skirtingomis teisinėmis struktūromis vyriausybės. Straipsnyje paaiškinamas privataus finansavimo iniciatyvos mechanizmas, kurį taiko Jungtinės Karalystės vyriausybė ir įvertinami trijų atliktų tyrimų rezultatai, pateikiamos pagrindinės charakteristikos. Резюме Потребность в фондах для инвестирования капитала в общественные проекты привела к тому, что общественные учреждения вынуждены искать новые альтернативы для приобретения имущества. Еще в 80-е годы прошлого столетия в Австралии родилась идея, как финансировать глобальные проекты, требующие большого количества средств, – так называемая идея частного финансирования. Этот способ позволяет решить проблему нехватки общественных средств, при этом средства выделяются из фондов частных организаций. Позже упомянутый способ широко использовался правительствами разных стран с разными правовыми структурами. В статье объясняется механизм инициативы частного финансирования. Данный механизм используется правительством Великобритании, в нем сочетаются результаты трех проведенных исследований, характеристики которых представлены в статье.

The sons of famous men sometimes fail to succeed in life, particularly if they suffer parental neglect in their childhood and youth. Ira Daniel Aldridge is a case in point—a promising lad who in his formative years lacked sustained contact with his father, a celebrated touring black actor whose peripatetic career in the British Isles and later on the European continent kept him away from home for long periods. When the boy rebelled as a teenager, his father sent him abroad, forcing him to make his own way in the world. Ira Daniel settled in Australia, married, and had children, but he found it difficult to support a family. Eventually he turned to crime and wound up spending many years in prison. The son of an absent father, he too became an absent father to his own sons, who also suffered as a consequence. Ira Daniel’s story is not just a case study of a failed father-son relationship. It also presents us with an example of the hardships faced by migrants who move from one society to another in which they must struggle to fit in and survive. This is especially difficult for migrants who look different from most of those in the community they are entering, so this is a tale about strained race relations too. And it takes place in a penal colony where punishments were severe, even for those who committed petty offences. Ira Daniel tried at first to make an honest living, but finally, in desperation, he broke the law and ended up incarcerated in brutal conditions. He was a victim of his environment but also of his own inability to cope with the pressures of settling in a foreign land. Displacement drove him to fail.

Australian data can reflect on British questions, about the quality of immigrant labour, and the opportunities gained by migrating, in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Three case studies are presented. The first uses quantitative methods and convict transportation records to argue that Ireland suffered a “brain drain” when Britain industrialized, siphoning off the cream of its workers to England and some, eventually, to Australia. Drawing on an entirely different type of data, the second study reaches strikingly similar positive conclusions about the qualities of Australia's early assisted immigrants: three splendidly visible immigrants stand for the tens of thousands of people who sailed out of urban and rural Britain to the distant colonies. A no less optimistic view of Australia's immigrants half a century later is demonstrated in the third case study on female domestic servants. Often referred to as the submerged stratum of the workforce, the most oppressed and the least skilled, the label “domestic servant” obscured a wide range of internal distinctions of rank and experience, and too often simply homogenized them into a sump of “surplus women”. This study helps to rescue the immigrant women from this fate and invests them with individuality and volition, offering the vision of the intercontinentally peripatetic domestic, piloting her way about the globe, taking advantage of colonial labour shortages to maximize her mobility and her family strategies. Best of all, these migrants emerge as individuals out of the mass, faces with names, people with agenda.

Purpose This paper aims to outline campus management process dynamics that are affected by glocalization, changing funding structures and digitalization, and answer: How do glocalization, changing funding structures and digitalization challenge university campus management? and What implications do the challenges have on campus management processes? Design/methodology/approach Literature overview discusses how glocalization, changing funding structures and digitalization affect campus management. Empirical part explores how these forces affect management processes through 36 interviews on multiple embedded cases in the main campuses of Aalto University in Finland and the University of Melbourne in Australia. Findings Major challenges include future foresight, institutional sharing, economical paucity and functional flexibility. Heterogeneous user behaviors challenge absolute spatial measures as bases for designing learning and working environments. Finding a balance between long-haul portfolio maintenance for the university and future users and short-haul flexible pilots for the current user communities is crucial. Research limitations/implications The results derive from interviews of 36 campus management professionals from two campus management organizations limiting the validity and the reliability of the study. Further studies should be conducted by replicating the study in another context, by interviewing end users and clients and by investigating case investments and impacts over time. Practical implications Campus managers can answer the challenges through practical applications such as big data collection and sharing in physical environments, integrated service provision to thematic communities, cross-pollination of user communities and open access to information and infrastructure services. Originality/value This paper provides insights and tools to strategic alignment by comparing campus management of two fundamentally different systems in the context of higher education and on-going digitalization.

About four centuries passed between the first appearance of pamphlets in which the medical uses of petroleum were discussed (for example, the Tegernsee (southern Bavaria, 1430), Geneva (Swiss Confederacy, 1480), Nurnberg (northern Bavaria, 1500), and the Antwerp (Duchy of Brabant, today Flanders, 1540–1550) pamphlets), and Michael Faraday's discovery in 1825 of the chemical composition of benzene derived from bituminous oil as a compound of carbon and hydrogen. During this long time span, studies of oil, carried out between alchemy and chemistry, benefited from rapid advances and brilliant insights, much as they had moments of stagnation, and disappointing regressions. In 1855 the chemist Benjamin Silliman Jr., of Yale University, proved that crude oil could be decomposed through a process of fractional distillation into a range of fuels and lubricants cheaper than the oils, greases and waxes rendered by animal fats and vegetal matter (Silliman 1855; Forbes 1948 Forbes 1958). In the course of the early 1860s, oil became the main source of illumination first in North America, then in Europe and Australia. This transformation of oil from a substance of limited use into a commodity of mass consumption radically changed the pattern of oil finding and production. Crude was no longer collected just from natural springs or draining seepages, but was pumped out of the ground from wells drilled by machines using steam power. This was the first step toward the modern oil industry, and a breakthrough in the history of energy: the beginning of an oil society. The first part of this article provides an introduction to the early uses and production of petroleum in Europe, and advances in understanding the nature, the physical properties, and the composition of hydrocarbons. It provides a brief analysis of the interaction between technology, society and the environmental context in northwestern Pennsylvania, where, between 1858 and 1859, a new successful pattern developed to produce oil in commercial quantity. From 1861, that innovative process put the United States in the position to gain increasing shares in the young European mineral oil markets and, subsequently, to jeopardize the position of local oil (vegetal, animal and mineral) producers. The second part, using a national case study approach, explores the history of a British oil company operating in Romania since 1863, the Wallachian Oil Company. This venture by London stockholders—short, difficult, and abortive—is a mirror of the nature of the business implemented by emerging oil companies, not only from Europe, and therefore exemplifies the challenges of setting the modern oil sector in motion in the nineteenth century.

In the 21st century, sustainability and indicators of world-class universities have come within the scope of an academic cottage industry. The complex problem of university sustainability implies a big challenge for countries and educators to implement important strategies in an integrated and comprehensive way. This paper highlights and analyzes the sustainability indicators of universities included as newly formed world-class universities (NFWCUs) in the top 100 from 2010 and 2018. The integration of three global ranking scales—the Academic Ranking of World Universities (ARWU), the Quacquarelli–Symonds World University Ranking (QS) and the Times Higher Education World University Rankings (THEs)—allows us to minimize the impact of the methodology used. This study integrates regression analysis by using statistical grouping, case studies and normative analysis. Our principal findings are as follows: among the commonly ranked top 100 universities in 2018, the ARWU, QS and THE counted 57, compared with 47 in 2010. Thus, comparing 2010 and 2018 shows that 44 of the universities appeared simultaneously in ARWU, QS and THE rankings and maintained a sustainable position in any ranking system in the family of top 100 groups. Three lower-ranked NFWCUs in the hybrid list for 2010 lost their ranking and did not appear in the group of top 100 universities in 2018, which are covered by some catch-up and young universities. The NFWCUs were from US, Australia, China, Singapore, Germany and Belgium. By systematic comparison, the US and UK continued to dominate the stability of NFWCUs in 2010 and 2018. The key sustainability indicators include a high concentration of talent, abundant resources to offer a rich learning environment and conduct advanced research. Generally, the factors were negatively associated with ranking suggesting that a higher score result in top ranking and vice versa. Teaching, research, citation and international outlook were negatively correlated with THE ranking in 2018. Similarly, Alumni and PUB were negatively associated with ARWU ranking in 2018. All factors except international student ratio were significantly correlated in QS ranking either in 2010 or 2018, where negative association was observed. The significant contribution of our study is to highlight that for the sustainability of universities, it is necessary to have an increasing emphasis on the effectiveness and efficiency of government-supported research, stability of investments and more approaches to employ international initiatives. The results also confirm the appropriate governance, developing global students and place emphasis on science and technology as additional factors in the approaches of pathways to NFWCUs, with delivery of outstanding educational programs and comprehensive internationalization as a key indicator for performance improvement and global university ranking systems.

Abstract. During the SCOUT-O3/ACTIVE field phase in November–December 2005 airborne in situ measurements were performed inside and in the vicinity of thunderstorms over northern Australia with several research aircraft (German Falcon, Russian M55 Geophysica, and British Dornier-228). Here a case study from 19 November is presented in large detail on the basis of airborne trace gas measurements (NO, NOy, CO, O3) and stroke measurements from the German LIghtning Location NETwork (LINET), set up in the vicinity of Darwin during the field campaign. The anvil outflow from three different types of thunderstorms was probed by the Falcon aircraft: 1) a continental thunderstorm developing in a tropical airmass near Darwin, 2) a mesoscale convective system (MCS) developing within the tropical maritime continent (Tiwi Islands) known as Hector, and 3) a continental thunderstorm developing in a subtropical airmass ~200 km south of Darwin. For the first time detailed measurements of NO were performed in the Hector outflow. The highest NO mixing ratios were observed in Hector with peaks up to 7 nmol mol−1 in the main anvil outflow at ~11.5–12.5 km altitude. The mean NOx (=NO+NO2) mixing ratios during these penetrations (~100 km width) varied between 2.2 and 2.5 nmol mol−1. The NOx contribution from the boundary layer (BL), transported upward with the convection, to total anvil-NOx was found to be minor (<10%). On the basis of Falcon measurements, the mass flux of lightning-produced NOx (LNOx) in the well-developed Hector system was estimated to 0.6–0.7 kg(N) s−1. The highest average stroke rate of the probed thunderstorms was observed in the Hector system with 0.2 strokes s−1 (here only strokes with peak currents ≥10 kA contributing to LNOx were considered). The LNOx mass flux and the stroke rate were combined to estimate the LNOx production rate in the different thunderstorm types. For a better comparison with other studies, LINET strokes were scaled with Lightning Imaging Sensor (LIS) flashes. The LNOx production rate per LIS flash was estimated to 4.1–4.8 kg(N) for the well-developed Hector system, and to 5.4 and 1.7 kg(N) for the continental thunderstorms developing in subtropical and tropical airmasses, respectively. If we assume, that these different types of thunderstorms are typical thunderstorms globally (LIS flash rate ~44 s−1), the annual global LNOx production rate based on Hector would be ~5.7–6.6 Tg(N) a−1 and based on the continental thunderstorms developing in subtropical and tropical airmasses ~7.6 and ~2.4 Tg(N) a−1, respectively. The latter thunderstorm type produced much less LNOx per flash compared to the subtropical and Hector thunderstorms, which may be caused by the shorter mean flash component length observed in this storm. It is suggested that the vertical wind shear influences the horizontal extension of the charged layers, which seems to play an important role for the flash lengths that may originate. In addition, the horizontal dimension of the anvil outflow and the cell organisation within the thunderstorm system are probably important parameters influencing flash length and hence LNOx production per flash.

Abstract. During the SCOUT-O3/ACTIVE field phase in November–December 2005, airborne in situ measurements were performed inside and in the vicinity of thunderstorms over northern Australia with several research aircraft (German Falcon, Russian M55 Geophysica, and British Dornier-228. Here a case study from 19 November is presented in detail on the basis of airborne trace gas measurements (NO, NOy, CO, O3) and stroke measurements from the German LIghtning Location NETwork (LINET), set up in the vicinity of Darwin during the field campaign. The anvil outflow from three different types of thunderstorms was probed by the Falcon aircraft: (1) a continental thunderstorm developing in a tropical airmass near Darwin, (2) a mesoscale convective system (MCS), known as Hector, developing within the tropical maritime continent (Tiwi Islands), and (3) a continental thunderstorm developing in a subtropical airmass ~200 km south of Darwin. For the first time detailed measurements of NO were performed in the Hector outflow. The highest NO mixing ratios were observed in Hector with peaks up to 7 nmol mol−1 in the main anvil outflow at ~11.5–12.5 km altitude. The mean NOx (=NO+NO2) mixing ratios during these penetrations (~100 km width) varied between 2.2 and 2.5 nmol mol−1. The NOx contribution from the boundary layer (BL), transported upward with the convection, to total anvil-NOx was found to be minor (<10%). On the basis of Falcon measurements, the mass flux of lightning-produced NOx (LNOx) in the well-developed Hector system was estimated to 0.6–0.7 kg(N) s−1. The highest average stroke rate of the probed thunderstorms was observed in the Hector system with 0.2 strokes s−1 (here only strokes with peak currents ≥10 kA contributing to LNOx were considered). The LNOx mass flux and the stroke rate were combined to estimate the LNOx production rate in the different thunderstorm types. For a better comparison with other studies, LINET strokes were scaled with Lightning Imaging Sensor (LIS) flashes. The LNOx production rate per LIS flash was estimated to 4.1–4.8 kg(N) for the well-developed Hector system, and to 5.4 and 1.7 kg(N) for the continental thunderstorms developing in subtropical and tropical airmasses, respectively. If we assume, that these different types of thunderstorms are typical thunderstorms globally (LIS flash rate ~44 s−1), the annual global LNOx production rate based on Hector would be ~5.7–6.6 Tg(N) a−1 and based on the continental thunderstorms developing in subtropical and tropical airmasses ~7.6 and ~2.4 Tg(N) a−1, respectively. The latter thunderstorm type produced much less LNOx per flash compared to the subtropical and Hector thunderstorms, which may be caused by the shorter mean flash component length observed in this storm. It is suggested that the vertical wind shear influences the horizontal extension of the charged layers, which seems to play an important role for the flash lengths that may originate. In addition, the horizontal dimension of the anvil outflow and the cell organisation within the thunderstorm system are probably important parameters influencing flash length and hence LNOx production per flash.

Introduction Negative stereotyping of alternative diets such as veganism and other plant-based diets has been common in Australia, conventionally a meat-eating culture (OECD qtd. in Ting). Indeed, meat consumption in Australia is sanctioned by the ubiquity of advertising linking meat-eating to health, vitality and nation-building, and public challenges to such plant-based diets as veganism. In addition, state, commercial enterprises, and various community groups overtly resist challenges to Australian meat-eating norms and to the intensive animal husbandry practices that underpin it. Hence activists, who may contest not simply this norm but many of the customary industry practices that comprise Australia’s meat production, have been accused of promoting a vegan agenda and even of undermining the “Australian way of life”.If veganism meansa philosophy and way of living which seeks to exclude—as far as is possible and practicable—all forms of exploitation of, and cruelty to, animals for food, clothing or any other purpose; and by extension, promotes the development and use of animal-free alternatives for the benefit of humans, animals and the environment. In dietary terms it denotes the practice of dispensing with all products derived wholly or partly from animals. (Vegan Society)then our interest in this article lies in how a stereotyped label of veganism (and other associated attributes) is being used across Australian public spheres to challenge the work of animal activists as they call out factory farming for entrenched animal cruelty. This is carried out in three main parts. First, following an outline of our research approach, we examine the processes of stereotyping and the key dimensions of vegan stereotyping. Second, in the main part of the article, we reveal how opponents to such animal activist organisations as Animals Australia attempt to undermine activist calls for change by framing them as promoting an un-Australian vegan agenda. Finally, we consider how, despite such framing, that organisation is generating productive public debate around animal welfare, and, further, facilitating the creation of new activist identifications and identities.Research ApproachData collection involved searching for articles where Animals Australia and animal activism were yoked with veg*n (vegan and vegetarian), across the period May 2011 to 2016 (discussion peaked between May and June 2013). This period was of interest because it exposed a flare point with public discord being expressed between communities—namely between rural and urban consumers, farmers and animal activists, Coles Supermarkets (identified by The Australian Government the Treasury as one of two major supermarkets holding over 65% share of Australian food retail market) and their producers—and a consequent voicing of disquiet around Australian identity. We used purposive sampling (Waller, Farquharson, and Dempsey 67) to identify relevant materials as we knew in advance the case was “information-rich” (Patton 181) and would provide insightful information about a “troublesome” phenomenon (Emmel 6). Materials were collected from online news articles (30) and readers’ comments (167), online magazines (2) and websites (2) and readers’ comments (3), news items (Factiva 13), Australian Broadcasting Commission television (1) and radio (1), public blogs (2), and Facebook pages from involved organisations, specifically Australia’s National Farmers’ Federation (NFF, 155 posts) and Coles Supermarkets (29 posts). Many of these materials were explicitly responsive to a) Animals Australia’s Make It Possible campaign against Australian factory farming (launched and highly debated during this period), and b) Coles Supermarket’s short-lived partnership with Animals Australia in 2013. We utilised content analysis so as to make visible the most prominent and consistent stereotypes utilised in these various materials during the identified period. The approach allowed us to code and categorise materials so as to determine trends and patterns of words used, their relationships, and key structures and ways of speaking (Weerakkody). In addition, discourse analysis (Gee) was used in order to identify and track “language-in-use” so as to make visible the stereotyping deployed during the public reception of both the campaign and Animals Australia’s associated partnership with Coles. These methods enabled a “nuanced approach” (Coleman and Moss 12) with which to spot putdowns, innuendos, and stereotypical attitudes.Vegan StereotypingStereotypes creep into everyday language and are circulated and amplified through mainstream media, speeches by public figures, and social media. Stereotypes maintain their force through being reused and repurposed, making them difficult to eradicate due to their “cumulative effects” and influence (Harris and Sanborn 38; Inzlicht, Tullett, Legault, and Kang; Pickering). Over time stereotypes can become the lens through which we view “the world and social reality” (Harris and Sanborn 38; Inzlicht et al.). In summation, stereotyping:reduces identity categories to particular sets of deeds, attributes and attitudes (Whitley and Kite);informs individuals’ “cognitive investments” (Blum 267) by associating certain characteristics with particular groups;comprises symbolic and connotative codes that carry sets of traits, deeds, or beliefs (Cover; Rosello), and;becomes increasingly persuasive through regulating language and image use as well as identity categories (Cover; Pickering; Rosello).Not only is the “iterative force” (Rosello 35) of such associative stereotyping compounded due to its dissemination across digital media sites such as Facebook, YouTube, websites, and online news, but attempts to denounce it tend to increase its “persuasive power” (29). Indeed, stereotypes seem to refuse “to die” (23), remaining rooted in social and cultural memory (Whitley and Kite 10).As such, despite the fact that there is increasing interest in Australia and elsewhere in new food norms and plant-based diets (see, e.g., KPMG), as well as in vegan lifestyle options (Wright), studies still show that vegans remain a negatively stereotyped group. Previous studies have suggested that vegans mark a “symbolic threat” to Western, conventionally meat-eating cultures (MacInnis and Hodson 722; Stephens Griffin; Cole and Morgan). One key UK study of national newspapers, for instance, showed vegans continuing to be discredited in multiple ways as: 1) “self-evidently ridiculous”; 2) “ascetics”; 3) having a lifestyle difficult and impossible to maintain; 4) “faddist”; 5) “oversensitive”; and 6) “hostile extremists” (Cole and Morgan 140–47).For many Australians, veganism also appears anathema to their preferred culture and lifestyle of meat-eating. For instance, the NFF, Meat & Livestock Australia (MLA), and other farming bodies continue to frame veganism as marking an extreme form of lifestyle, as anti-farming and un-Australian. Such perspectives are also circulated through online rural news and readers’ comments, as will be discussed later in the article. Such representations are further exemplified by the MLA’s (Lamb, Australia Day, Celebrate Australia) Australia Day lamb advertising campaigns (Bembridge; Canning). For multiple consecutive years, the campaign presented vegans (and vegetarians) as being self-evidently ridiculous and faddish, representing them as mentally unhinged and fringe dwellers. Such stereotyping not only invokes “affective reactions” (Whitley and Kite 8)—including feelings of disgust towards individuals living such lifestyles or holding such values—but operates as “political baits” (Rosello 18) to shore-up or challenge certain social or political positions.Although such advertisements are arguably satirical, their repeated screening towards and on Australia Day highlights deeply held views about the normalcy of animal agriculture and meat-eating, “homogenizing” (Blum 276; Pickering) both meat-eaters and non-meat-eaters alike. Cultural stereotyping of this kind amplifies “social” as well as political schisms (Blum 276), and arguably discourages consumers—whether meat-eaters or non-meat-eaters—from advocating together around shared goals such as animal welfare and food safety. Additionally, given the rise of new food practices in Australia—including flexitarian, reducetarian, pescatarian, kangatarian (a niche form of ethical eating), vegivores, semi-vegetarian, vegetarian, veganism—alongside broader commitments to ethical consumption, such stereotyping suggests that consumers’ actual values and preferences are being disregarded in order to shore-up the normalcy of meat-eating.Animals Australia and the (So-Called) Vegan Agenda of Animal ActivismGiven these points, it is no surprise that there is a tacit belief in Australia that anyone labelled an animal activist must also be vegan. Within this context, we have chosen to primarily focus on the attitudes towards the campaigning work of Animals Australia—a not-for-profit organisation representing some 30 member groups and over 2 million individual supporters (Animals Australia, “Who Is”)—as this organisation has been charged as promoting a vegan agenda. Along with the RSPCA and Voiceless, Animals Australia represents one of the largest animal protection organisations within Australia (Chen). Its mission is to:Investigate, expose and raise community awareness of animal cruelty;Provide animals with the strongest representation possible to Government and other decision-makers;Educate, inspire, empower and enlist the support of the community to prevent and prohibit animal cruelty;Strengthen the animal protection movement. (Animals Australia, “Who Is”)In delivery of this mission, the organisation curates public rallies and protests, makes government and industry submissions, and utilises corporate outreach. Campaigning engages the Web, multiple forms of print and broadcast media, and social media.With regards to Animals Australia’s campaigns regarding factory farming—including the Make It Possible campaign (see fig. 1), launched in 2013 and key to the period we are investigating—the main message is that: the animals kept in these barren and constrictive conditions are “no different to our pets at home”; they are “highly intelligent creatures who feel pain, and who will respond to kindness and affection – if given the chance”; they are “someone, not something” (see the Make It Possible transcript). Campaigns deliberately strive to engender feelings of empathy and produce affect in viewers (see, e.g., van Gurp). Specifically they strive to produce mainstream recognition of the cruelties entrenched in factory farming practices and build community outrage against these practices so as to initiate industry change. Campaigns thus expressly challenge Australians to no longer support factory farmed animal products, and to identify with what we have elsewhere called everyday activist positions (Rodan and Mummery, “Animal Welfare”; “Make It Possible”). They do not, however, explicitly endorse a vegan position. Figure 1: Make It Possible (Animals Australia, campaign poster)Nonetheless, as has been noted, a common counter-tactic used within Australia by the industries targeted by such campaigns, has been to use well-known negative stereotypes to discredit not only the charges of systemic animal cruelty but the associated organisations. In our analysis, we found four prominent interconnected stereotypes utilised in both digital and print media to discredit the animal welfare objectives of Animals Australia. Together these cast the organisation as: 1) anti-meat-eating; 2) anti-farming; 3) promoting a vegan agenda; and 4) hostile extremists. These stereotypes are examined below.Anti-Meat-EatingThe most common stereotype attributed to Animals Australia from its campaigning is of being anti-meat-eating. This charge, with its associations with veganism, is clearly problematic for industries that facilitate meat-eating and within a culture that normalises meat-eating, as the following example expresses:They’re [Animals Australia] all about stopping things. They want to stop factory farming – whatever factory farming is – or they want to stop live exports. And in fact they’re not necessarily about: how do I improve animal welfare in the pig industry? Or how do I improve animal welfare in the live export industry? Because ultimately they are about a meat-free future world and we’re about a meat producing industry, so there’s not a lot of overlap, really between what we’re doing. (Andrew Spencer, Australian Pork Ltd., qtd. in Clark)Respondents engaging this stereotype also express their “outrage at Coles” (McCarthy) and Animals Australia for “pedalling [sic]” a pro-vegan agenda (Nash), their sense that Animals Australia is operating with ulterior motives (Flint) and criminal intent (Brown). They see cultural refocus as unnecessary and “an exercise in futility” (Harris).Anti-FarmingTo be anti-farming in Australia is generally considered to be un-Australian, with Glasgow suggesting that any criticism of “farming practices” in Australian society can be “interpreted as an attack on the moral integrity of farmers, amounting to cultural blasphemy” (200). Given its objectives, it is unsurprising that Animals Australia has been stereotyped as being “anti-farming”, a phrase additionally often used in conjunction with the charge of veganism. Although this comprises a misreading of veganism—given its focus on challenging animal exploitation in farming rather than entailing opposition to all farming—the NFF accused Animals Australia of being “blatantly anti-farming and proveganism” (Linegar qtd. in Nason) and as wanting “to see animal agriculture phased out” (National Farmers’ Federation). As expressed in more detail:One of the main factors for VFF and other farmers being offended is because of AA’s opinion and stand on ALL farming. AA wants all farming banned and us all become vegans. Is it any wonder a lot of people were upset? Add to that the proceeds going to AA which may have been used for their next criminal activity washed against the grain. If people want to stand against factory farming they have the opportunity not to purchase them. Surely not buying a product will have a far greater impact on factory farmed produce. Maybe the money could have been given to farmers? (Hunter)Such stereotyping reveals how strongly normalised animal agriculture is in Australia, as well as a tendency on the part of respondents to reframe the challenge of animal cruelty in some farming practices into a position supposedly challenging all farming practices.Promoting a Vegan AgendaAs is already clear, Animals Australia is often reproached for promoting a vegan agenda, which, it is further suggested, it keeps hidden from the Australian public. This viewpoint was evident in two key examples: a) the Australian public and organisations such as the NFF are presented as being “defenceless” against the “myopic vitriol of the vegan abolitionists” (Jonas); and b) Animals Australia is accused of accepting “loans from liberation groups” and being “supported by an army of animal rights lawyers” to promote a “hard core” veganism message (Bourke).Nobody likes to see any animals hurt, but pushing a vegan agenda and pushing bad attitudes by group members is not helping any animals and just serves to slow any progress both sides are trying to resolve. (V.c. Deb Ford)Along with undermining farmers’ “legitimate business” (Jooste), veganism was also considered to undermine Australia’s rural communities (Park qtd. in Malone).Hostile ExtremistsThe final stereotype linking veganism with Animals Australia was of hostile extremism (cf. Cole and Morgan). This means, for users, being inimical to Australian national values but, also, being akin to terrorists who engage in criminal activities antagonistic to Australia’s democratic society and economic livelihood (see, e.g., Greer; ABC News). It is the broad symbolic threat that “extremism” invokes that makes this stereotype particularly “infectious” (Rosello 19).The latest tag team attacks on our pork industry saw AL giving crash courses in how to become a career criminal for the severely impressionable, after attacks on the RSPCA against the teachings of Peter Singer and trying to bully the RSPCA into vegan functions menu. (Cattle Advocate)The “extremists” want that extended to dairy products, as well. The fact that this will cause the total annihilation of practically all animals, wild and domestic, doesn’t bother them in the least. (Brown)What is interesting about these last two dimensions of stereotyping is their displacement of violence. That is, rather than responding to the charge of animal cruelty, violence and extremism is attributed to those making the charge.Stereotypes and Symbolic Boundary ShiftingWhat is evident throughout these instances is how stereotyping as a “cognitive mechanism” is being used to build boundaries (Cherry 460): in the first instance, between “us” (the meat-eating majority) and “them” (the vegan minority aka animal activists); and secondly between human interest and livestock. This point is that animals may hold instrumental value and receive some protection through such, but any more stringent arguments for their protection at the expense of perceived human interests tend to be seen as wrong-headed (Sorenson; Munro).These boundaries are deeply entrenched in Western culture (Wimmer). They are also deeply problematic in the context of animal activism because they fragment publics, promote restrictive identities, and close down public debate (Lamont and Molnár). Boundary entrenching is clearly evident in the stereotyping work carried out by industry stakeholders where meat-eating and practices of industrialised animal agriculture are valorised and normalised. Challenging Australia’s meat production practices—irrespective of the reason given—is framed and belittled as entailing a vegan agenda, and further as contributing to the demise of farming and rural communities in Australia.More broadly, industry stakeholders are explicitly targeting the activist work by such organisations as Animals Australia as undermining the ‘Australian way of life’. In their reading, there is an irreconcilable boundary between human and animal interests and between an activist minority which is vegan, unreasonable, extremist and hostile to farming and the meat-eating majority which is representative of the Australian community and sustains the Australian economy. As discussed so far, such stereotyping and boundary making—even in their inaccuracies—can be pernicious in the way they entrench identities and divisions, and close the possibility for public debate.Rather than directly contesting the presuppositions and inaccuracies of such stereotyping, however, Animals Australia can be read as cultivating a process of symbolic boundary shifting. That is, rather than responding by simply underlining its own moderate position of challenging only intensive animal agriculture for systemic animal cruelty, Animals Australia uses its campaigns to develop “boundary blurring and crossing” tactics (Cherry 451, 459), specifically to dismantle and shift the symbolic boundaries conventionally in place between humans and non-human animals in the first instance, and between those non-human animals used for companionship and those used for food in the second (see fig. 2). Figure 2: That Ain’t No Way to Treat a Lady (Animals Australia, campaign image on back of taxi)Indeed, the symbolic boundaries between humans and animals left unquestioned in the preceding stereotyping are being profoundly shaken by Animals Australia with campaigns such as Make It Possible making morally relevant likenesses between humans and animals highly visible to mainstream Australians. Namely, the organisation works to interpellate viewers to exercise their own capacities for emotional identification and moral imagination, to identify with animals’ experiences and lives, and to act upon that identification to demand change.So, rather than reactively striving to refute the aforementioned stereotypes, organisations such as Animals Australia are modelling and facilitating symbolic boundary shifting by building broad, emotionally motivated, pathways through which Australians are being encouraged to refocus their own assumptions, practices and identities regarding animal experience, welfare and animal-human relations. Indeed the organisation has explicitly framed itself as speaking on behalf of not only animals but all caring Australians, suggesting thereby the possibility of a reframing of Australian national identity. Although such a tactic does not directly contest this negative stereotyping—direct contestation being, as noted, ineffective given the perniciousness of stereotyping—such work nonetheless dismantles the oppositional charge of such stereotyping in calling for all Australians to proudly be a little bit anti-meat-eating (when that meat is from factory farmed animals), a little bit anti-factory farming, a little bit pro-veg*n, and a little bit proud to consider themselves as caring about animal welfare.For Animals Australia, in other words, appealing to Australians to care about animal welfare and to act in support of that care, not only defuses the stereotypes targeting them but encourages the work of symbolic boundary shifting that is really at the heart of this dispute. Further research into the reception of the debate would give a sense of the extent to which such an approach is making a difference.ReferencesABC News. “Animal Rights Activists ‘Akin to Terrorists’, Says NSW Minister Katrina Hodgkinson.” ABC News 18 Jul. 2013. 21 Feb. 2019 <http://www.abc.net.au/news/2013-07-18/animal-rights-activists-27terrorists272c-says-nsw-minister/4828556>.Animals Australia. “Who Is Animals Australia?” 20 Feb. 2019 <http://www.animalsaustralia.org/about>.———. Make It Possible. Video and transcript. 21 Oct. 2012. 20 Feb. 2019 <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fM6V6lq_p0o>.The Australian Government the Treasury. Independent Review of the Food and Grocery Code of Conduct: Final Report. Commonwealth of Australia, 2018. 1 Apr. 2019 <https://treasury.gov.au/sites/default/files/2019-03/Independent-review-of-the-Food-and-Grocery-Code-of-Conduct-Final-Report.pdf>.Bembridge, Courtney. “Australia Day Lamb Ad, Starring Lee Lin Chin, Attracts Dozens of Complaints from Vegans.” ABC News 20 Jan. 2016. 21 Feb. 2019 <http://www.abc.net.au/news/2016-01-11/vegans-lodge-complaints-over-lamb-ad/7081706>.Blum, Lawrence. “Stereotypes and Stereotyping: A Moral Analysis.” Philosophical Papers 33.3 (2004): 251–89.Bourke, John. “Coles Undermines Our Way of Life.” Weekly Times Now 5 Jun. 2013. 19 Jun. 2013 <http://www.weeklytimesnow.com.au/article/2013/06/05/572335_opinion-news.html>.Brown, Frank. “Letter to the Editor.” Northern Miner 9 Dec. 2014. 18 Nov. 2017 <http://www.newscorpaustralia.com/brand/northern-miner>.Canning, Simon. “MLA’s Australia Day Vegan Flaming Lamb Ad Cleared by Advertising Watchdog.” Mumbrella News 19 Jan. 2016. 18 Nov. 2017 <https://mumbrella.com.au/mlas-australia-day-vegan-flaming-lamb-ad-cleared-by-advertising-watchdog-340779>.Cattle Advocate. “Coles Bags a Boost for NFF.” Farm Weekly 3 Jul. 2013. 20 Feb. 2018 <http://www.farmweekly.com.au/news/agriculture/agribusiness/general-news/coles-bags-a-boost-for-nff/2660179.aspx>.Chen, Peter John. Animal Welfare in Australia: Politics and Policy. Sydney: U of Sydney Press, 2016.Cherry, Elizabeth. “Shifting Symbolic Boundaries: Cultural Strategies of the Animal Rights Movement.” Sociological Forum 25.3 (2010): 450–75.Clark, Chris. “Animals Australia under the Microscope.” ABC Landline 16 Jun. 2013. 24 Jun. 2013 <http://www.abc.net.au/landline/ content/2013/s3782456.htm>.Cole, Matthew, and Karen Morgan. “Vegaphobia: Derogatory Discourses of Veganism and the Reproduction of Speciesism in UK National Newspapers.” The British Journal of Sociology 62.1 (2011): 134–53.Coleman, Stephen, and Giles Moss. “Under Construction: The Field of Online Deliberation Research.” Journal of Information Technology and Politics 9.1 (2012): 1–15.Cover, Rob. “Digital Difference: Theorizing Frameworks of Bodies, Representation and Stereotypes in Digital Games.” Asia Pacific Media Educator 26.1 (2016): 4–16.Emmel, Nick. “Purposeful Sampling.” Sampling and Choosing Cases in Qualitative Research: A Realist Approach. London: Sage Publications, 2013. 2–12. 28 Feb. 2019 <http://dx.doi.org.ezproxy.ecu.edu.au/10.4135/9781473913882>.Flint, Nicole. “The ABC Continues to Broadcast Animals Australia Footage while Failing to Probe the Group’s Motivations.” The Advertiser 28 Oct. 2014. 18 Nov. 2017 <http://www.adelaidenow.com.au/>.Gee, James Paul. An Introduction to Discourse Analysis: Theory and Method. 3rd ed. New York: Routledge, 2010.Glasgow, David. “The Law of the Jungle: Advocating for Animals in Australia.” Deakin Law Review 13.1 (2008): 181–210.Greer, Anna. “‘Akin to Terrorism’: The War on Animal Activists.” Overland 9 Aug. 2013. 21 Feb. 2019 <https://overland.org.au/2013/08/akin-to-terrorism-the-war-on-animal-activists/>Harris, Janeen. “Coles Are the Piggy in the Middle of Animal Welfare Confrontation.” The Conversation 13 Jun. 2013. 21 Feb. 2019 <https://theconversation.com/coles-are-the-piggy-in-the-middle-of-animal-welfare-confrontation-15078>.Harris, Richard Jackson, and Fred W. Sanborn. A Cognitive Psychology of Mass Communication. 6th ed. New York: Routledge, 2014.Hunter, Jim. “Animals Australia Bags Hot Property.” Weekly Times Now 10 Jun. 2013. 19 Jun. 2013 <http://tools.weeklytimesnow.com.au/yoursay/comment_all.php>.Inzlicht, Michael, Alexa M. Tullett, Lisa Legault, and Sonia K Kang. “Lingering Effects: Stereotype Threat Hurts More than You Think.” Social Issues and Policy Review 5.1 (2011): 227–56.Jonas, Tammi. “Coles & Animals Australia: Unlikely Bedfellows?” Blog post. 6 Jun. 2013. 24 Jun. 2013 <http://www.tammijonas.com/2013/06/06/coles-animals-australia-unlikely-bedfellows/>.Jooste, James. “Animals Australia Ready to Launch New Advertisements Calling for Ban on Live Exports, after Complaints about Previous Campaign Dismissed.” ABC News 16 Feb. 2016. 21 Feb. 2019 <http://www.abc.net.au/news/rural/2016-02-15/live-export-animals-australia-advertising-complaint-dismissed/7168534>.KPMG. Talking 2030: Growing Agriculture into a $100 Billion Industry. KPMG, 2018. 21 Feb. 2019 <https://docs.wixstatic.com/ugd/f0cfd1_26dbb49eea91458d8b1606a0006ec20e.pdf>.Lamont, Michèle, and Virág Molnár. “The Study of Boundaries in the Social Sciences.” Annual Review of Sociology 28 (2002): 167–95.MacInnis, Cara C., and Gordon Hodson. “It Ain’t Easy Eating Greens: Evidence of Bias towards Vegetarians and Vegans from Both Source and Target.” Group Process and Intergroup Relations 20.6 (2017): 721–44.Malone, Paul. “Farmers Face Changing World.” The Canberra Times 9 Jun. 2013. 22 Nov. 2013 <https://www.canberratimes.com.au/>.McCarthy, John. “Farmers Angered by Coles Campaign.” The Courier-Mail 4 Jun. 2013. 24 Jun. 2013 <http://www.couriermail.com.au/>.Meat and Livestock Australia (MLA). Australia Day Lamb 2016: Commence Operation Boomerang. Video. 9 Jan. 2016. 8 Nov. 2017 <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7i15OPuFvmA>.———. Celebrate Australia with a Lamb BBQ. Video. 11 Jan. 2017. 8 Nov. 2017 <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LX__i-zeaWs>.———. “Lamb Campaigns.” No date. 8 Nov. 2017 <https://www.mla.com.au/marketing-beef-and-lamb/domestic-marketing/lamb-campaigns/>.Munro, Lyle. “Animals, ‘Nature’ and Human Interests.” Controversies in Environmental Sociology. Ed. Rob White. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2004. 61–76.Nash, Fiona. “Nationals Senator Congratulating Animals Australia’s Damaging …. .” The Nationals for Regional Australia 6 Jun. 2013. 21 Jun. 2013 <http://nationals.org.au/>.Nason, James. “Coles Bagged over Animals Australia Campaign.” Beef Central. 4 Jun. 2013. 22 Nov. 2013 <http://www.beefcentral.com/news/coles-bagged-over-animals-australia-campaign/>.National Farmers’ Federation. Facebook post. 30 May 2013. 26 Nov. 2013 <http://www.facebook.com/NationalFarmers>.Patton, Michael Quinn. Qualitative Research and Evaluation Methods. 2nd ed. London: Sage, 1990. Pickering, Michael. Stereotyping: The Politics of Representation. Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2001.Rodan, Debbie, and Jane Mummery. “The ‘Make It Possible’ Multi-Media Campaign: Generating a New ‘Everyday’ in Animal Welfare.” Media International Australia, 153 (2014): 78–87.———. “Doing Animal Welfare Activism Everyday: Questions of Identity.” Continuum: Journal of Media & Cultural Studies 30.4 (2016): 381–96.Rosello, Mireille. Declining the Stereotype: Ethnicity and Representation in French Culture. Hanover: U of New England, 1998.Sorenson John. “Constructing Terrorists: Propaganda about Animal Rights.” Critical Studies on Terrorism 2.2 (2009): 237-56.Stephens Griffin, Nathan. Understanding Veganism: Biography and Identity. Cham: Springer International, 2017.Ting, Inga. “Australia is the Meat-Eating Capital of the World.” The Sydney Morning Herald 27 Oct. 2015. 20 Feb. 2019 <http://www.smh.com.au/national/health/australia-is-the-meateating-capital-of-the-world-20151027-gkjhp4.html>.V.c. Deb Ford. “National Farmers Federation.” Facebook post. 30 May 2013. 26 Nov. 2013 <http://www.facebook.com/NationalFarmers>.Van Gurp, Marc. “Factory Farming the Musical.” Osocio 4 Nov. 2012. 21 Feb. 2019 <https://osocio.org/message/factory-farming-the-musical/>.Vegan Society. “History.” 20 Feb. 2019 <https://www.vegansociety.com/about-us/history>.Waller, Vivienne, Karen Farquharson, and Deborah Dempsey. Qualitative Social Research: Contemporary Methods for the Digital Age. London: Sage, 2016Weerakkody, Niranjala. Research Methods for Media and Communication. South Melbourne: Oxford UP, 2009.Whitley, Bernard E., and Mary E. Kite. The Psychology of Prejudice and Discrimination. Belmont: Thomson Wadsworth, 2006.Wimmer, Andreas. “The Making and Unmaking of Ethnic Boundaries: A Multilevel Process Theory.” American Journal of Sociology 113.4 (2008): 970–1022.Wright, Laura. The Vegan Studies Project: Food, Animals, and Gender in the Age of Terror. Georgia: U of Georgia Press, 2015.

IntroductionTasmania hangs from the map of Australia like a drop in freefall from the substance of the mainland. Often the whole state is mislaid from Australian maps and logos (Reddit). Tasmania has, at least since federation, been considered peripheral—a region seen as isolated, a ‘problem’ economically, politically, and culturally. However, Tasmania not only cleaves to the ‘north island’ of Australia but is also subject to the gravitational pull of an even greater land mass—Antarctica. In this article, we upturn the political conventions of map-making that place both Antarctica and Tasmania in obscure positions at the base of the globe. We show how a changing global climate re-frames Antarctica and the Southern Ocean as key drivers of worldwide environmental shifts. The liquid and solid water between Tasmania and Antarctica is revealed not as a homogenous barrier, but as a dynamic and relational medium linking the Tasmanian archipelago with Antarctica. When Antarctica becomes the focus, the script is flipped: Tasmania is no longer on the edge, but core to a network of gateways into the southern land. The state’s capital of Hobart can from this perspective be understood as an “Antarctic city”, central to the geopolitics, economy, and culture of the frozen continent (Salazar et al.). Viewed from the south, we argue, Tasmania is not a problem, but an opportunity for a form of ecological, cultural, economic, and political sustainability that opens up the southern continent to science, discovery, and imagination.A Centre at the End of the Earth? Tasmania as ParadoxThe islands of Tasmania owe their existence to climate change: a period of warming at the end of the last ice age melted the vast sheets of ice covering the polar regions, causing sea levels to rise by more than one hundred metres (Tasmanian Climate Change Office 8). Eleven thousand years ago, Aboriginal people would have witnessed the rise of what is now called Bass Strait, turning what had been a peninsula into an archipelago, with the large island of Tasmania at its heart. The heterogeneous practices and narratives of Tasmanian regional identity have been shaped by the geography of these islands, and their connection to the Southern Ocean and Antarctica. Regions, understood as “centres of collective consciousness and sociospatial identities” (Paasi 241) are constantly reproduced and reimagined through place-based social practices and communications over time. As we will show, diverse and contradictory narratives of Tasmanian regionality often co-exist, interacting in complex and sometimes complementary ways. Ecocritical literary scholar C.A. Cranston considers duality to be embedded in the textual construction of Tasmania, writing “it was hell, it was heaven, it was penal, it was paradise” (29). Tasmania is multiply polarised: it is both isolated and connected; close and far away; rich in resources and poor in capital; the socially conservative birthplace of radical green politics (Hay 60). The weather, as if sensing the fine balance of these paradoxes, blows hot and cold at a moment’s notice.Tasmania has wielded extraordinary political influence at times in its history—notably during the settlement of Melbourne in 1835 (Boyce), and during protests against damming the Franklin River in the early 1980s (Mercer). However, twentieth-century historical and political narratives of Tasmania portray the Bass Strait as a barrier, isolating Tasmanians from the mainland (Harwood 61). Sir Bede Callaghan, who headed one of a long line of federal government inquiries into “the Tasmanian problem” (Harwood 106), was clear that Tasmania was a victim of its own geography:the major disability facing the people of Tasmania (although some residents may consider it an advantage) is that Tasmania is an island. Separation from the mainland adversely affects the economy of the State and the general welfare of the people in many ways. (Callaghan 3)This perspective may stem from the fact that Tasmania has maintained the lowest Gross Domestic Product per capita of all states since federation (Bureau of Infrastructure Transport and Regional Economics 9). Socially, economically, and culturally, Tasmania consistently ranks among the worst regions of Australia. Statistical comparisons with other parts of Australia reveal the population’s high unemployment, low wages, poor educational outcomes, and bad health (West 31). The state’s remoteness and isolation from the mainland states and its reliance on federal income have contributed to the whole of Tasmania, including Hobart, being classified as ‘regional’ by the Australian government, in an attempt to promote immigration and economic growth (Department of Infrastructure and Regional Development 1). Tasmania is indeed both regional and remote. However, in this article we argue that, while regionality may be cast as a disadvantage, the island’s remote location is also an asset, particularly when viewed from a far southern perspective (Image 1).Image 1: Antarctica (Orthographic Projection). Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons, Modified Shading of Tasmania and Addition of Captions by H. Nielsen.Connecting Oceans/Collapsing DistanceTasmania and Antarctica have been closely linked in the past—the future archipelago formed a land bridge between Antarctica and northern land masses until the opening of the Tasman Seaway some 32 million years ago (Barker et al.). The far south was tangible to the Indigenous people of the island in the weather blowing in from the Southern Ocean, while the southern lights, or “nuyina”, formed a visible connection (Australia’s new icebreaker vessel is named RSV Nuyina in recognition of these links). In the contemporary Australian imagination, Tasmania tends to be defined by its marine boundaries, the sea around the islands represented as flat, empty space against which to highlight the topography of its landscape and the isolation of its position (Davies et al.). A more relational geographic perspective illuminates the “power of cross-currents and connections” (Stratford et al. 273) across these seascapes. The sea country of Tasmania is multiple and heterogeneous: the rough, shallow waters of the island-scattered Bass Strait flow into the Tasman Sea, where the continental shelf descends toward an abyssal plain studded with volcanic seamounts. To the south, the Southern Ocean provides nutrient-rich upwellings that attract fish and cetacean populations. Tasmania’s coast is a dynamic, liminal space, moving and changing in response to the global currents that are driven by the shifting, calving and melting ice shelves and sheets in Antarctica.Oceans have long been a medium of connection between Tasmania and Antarctica. In the early colonial period, when the seas were the major thoroughfares of the world and inland travel was treacherous and slow, Tasmania’s connection with the Southern Ocean made it a valuable hub for exploration and exploitation of the south. Between 1642 and 1900, early European explorers were followed by British penal colonists, convicts, sealers, and whalers (Kriwoken and Williamson 93). Tasmania was well known to polar explorers, with expeditions led by Jules Dumont d’Urville, James Clark Ross, Roald Amundsen, and Douglas Mawson all transiting through the port of Hobart. Now that the city is no longer a whaling hub, growing populations of cetaceans continue to migrate past the islands on their annual journeys from the tropics, across the Sub-Antarctic Front and Antarctic circumpolar current, and into the south polar region, while southern species such as leopard seals are occasionally seen around Tasmania (Tasmania Parks and Wildlife). Although the water surrounding Tasmania and Antarctica is at times homogenised as a ‘barrier’, rendering these places isolated, the bodies of water that surround both are in fact permeable, and regularly crossed by both humans and marine species. The waters are diverse in their physical characteristics, underlying topography, sea life, and relationships, and serve to connect many different ocean regions, ecosystems, and weather patterns.Views from the Far SouthWhen considered in terms of its relative proximity to Antarctic, rather than its distance from Australia’s political and economic centres, Tasmania’s identity undergoes a significant shift. A sign at Cockle Creek, in the state’s far south, reminds visitors that they are closer to Antarctica than to Cairns, invoking a discourse of connectedness that collapses the standard ten-day ship voyage to Australia’s closest Antarctic station into a unit comparable with the routinely scheduled 5.5 hour flight to North Queensland. Hobart is the logistical hub for the Australian Antarctic Division and the French Institut Polaire Francais (IPEV), and has hosted Antarctic vessels belonging to the USA, South Korea, and Japan in recent years. From a far southern perspective, Hobart is not a regional Australian capital but a global polar hub. This alters the city’s geographic imaginary not only in a latitudinal sense—from “top down” to “bottom up”—but also a longitudinal one. Via its southward connection to Antarctica, Hobart is also connected east and west to four other recognized gateways: Cape Town in South Africa, Christchurch in New Zealand; Punta Arenas in Chile; and Ushuaia in Argentina (Image 2). The latter cities are considered small by international standards, but play an outsized role in relation to Antarctica.Image 2: H. Nielsen with a Sign Announcing Distances between Antarctic ‘Gateway’ Cities and Antarctica, Ushuaia, Argentina, 2018. Image Credit: Nicki D'Souza.These five cities form what might be called—to adapt geographer Klaus Dodds’ term—a ‘Southern Rim’ around the South Polar region (Dodds Geopolitics). They exist in ambiguous relationship to each other. Although the five cities signed a Statement of Intent in 2009 committing them to collaboration, they continue to compete vigorously for northern hemisphere traffic and the brand identity of the most prominent global gateway. A state government brochure spruiks Hobart, for example, as the “perfect Antarctic Gateway” emphasising its uniqueness and “natural advantages” in this regard (Tasmanian Government, 2016). In practice, the cities are automatically differentiated by their geographic position with respect to Antarctica. Although the ‘ice continent’ is often conceived as one entity, it too has regions, in both scientific and geographical senses (Terauds and Lee; Antonello). Hobart provides access to parts of East Antarctica, where the Australian, French, Japanese, and Chinese programs (among others) have bases; Cape Town is a useful access point for Europeans going to Dronning Maud Land; Christchurch is closest to the Ross Sea region, site of the largest US base; and Punta Arenas and Ushuaia neighbour the Antarctic Peninsula, home to numerous bases as well as a thriving tourist industry.The Antarctic sector is important to the Tasmanian economy, contributing $186 million (AUD) in 2017/18 (Wells; Gutwein; Tasmanian Polar Network). Unsurprisingly, Tasmania’s gateway brand has been actively promoted, with the 2016 Australian Antarctic Strategy and 20 Year Action Plan foregrounding the need to “Build Tasmania’s status as the premier East Antarctic Gateway for science and operations” and the state government releasing a “Tasmanian Antarctic Gateway Strategy” in 2017. The Chinese Antarctic program has been a particular focus: a Memorandum of Understanding focussed on Australia and China’s Antarctic relations includes a “commitment to utilise Australia, including Tasmania, as an Antarctic ‘gateway’.” (Australian Antarctic Division). These efforts towards a closer relationship with China have more recently come under attack as part of a questioning of China’s interests in the region (without, it should be noted, a concomitant questioning of Australia’s own considerable interests) (Baker 9). In these exchanges, a global power and a state of Australia generally classed as regional and peripheral are brought into direct contact via the even more remote Antarctic region. This connection was particularly visible when Chinese President Xi Jinping travelled to Hobart in 2014, in a visit described as both “strategic” and “incongruous” (Burden). There can be differences in how this relationship is narrated to domestic and international audiences, with issues of sovereignty and international cooperation variously foregrounded, laying the ground for what Dodds terms “awkward Antarctic nationalism” (1).Territory and ConnectionsThe awkwardness comes to a head in Tasmania, where domestic and international views of connections with the far south collide. Australia claims sovereignty over almost 6 million km2 of the Antarctic continent—a claim that in area is “roughly the size of mainland Australia minus Queensland” (Bergin). This geopolitical context elevates the importance of a regional part of Australia: the claims to Antarctic territory (which are recognised only by four other claimant nations) are performed not only in Antarctic localities, where they are made visible “with paraphernalia such as maps, flags, and plaques” (Salazar 55), but also in Tasmania, particularly in Hobart and surrounds. A replica of Mawson’s Huts in central Hobart makes Australia’s historic territorial interests in Antarctica visible an urban setting, foregrounding the figure of Douglas Mawson, the well-known Australian scientist and explorer who led the expeditions that proclaimed Australia’s sovereignty in the region of the continent roughly to its south (Leane et al.). Tasmania is caught in a balancing act, as it fosters international Antarctic connections (such hosting vessels from other national programs), while also playing a key role in administering what is domestically referred to as the Australian Antarctic Territory. The rhetoric of protection can offer common ground: island studies scholar Godfrey Baldacchino notes that as island narratives have moved “away from the perspective of the ‘explorer-discoverer-colonist’” they have been replaced by “the perspective of the ‘custodian-steward-environmentalist’” (49), but reminds readers that a colonising disposition still lurks beneath the surface. It must be remembered that terms such as “stewardship” and “leadership” can undertake sovereignty labour (Dodds “Awkward”), and that Tasmania’s Antarctic connections can be mobilised for a range of purposes. When Environment Minister Greg Hunt proclaimed at a press conference that: “Hobart is the gateway to the Antarctic for the future” (26 Apr. 2016), the remark had meaning within discourses of both sovereignty and economics. Tasmania’s capital was leveraged as a way to position Australia as a leader in the Antarctic arena.From ‘Gateway’ to ‘Antarctic City’While discussion of Antarctic ‘Gateway’ Cities often focuses on the economic and logistical benefit of their Antarctic connections, Hobart’s “gateway” identity, like those of its counterparts, stretches well beyond this, encompassing geological, climatic, historical, political, cultural and scientific links. Even the southerly wind, according to cartoonist Jon Kudelka, “has penguins in it” (Image 3). Hobart residents feel a high level of connection to Antarctica. In 2018, a survey of 300 randomly selected residents of Greater Hobart was conducted under the umbrella of the “Antarctic Cities” Australian Research Council Linkage Project led by Assoc. Prof. Juan Francisco Salazar (and involving all three present authors). Fourteen percent of respondents reported having been involved in an economic activity related to Antarctica, and 36% had attended a cultural event about Antarctica. Connections between the southern continent and Hobart were recognised as important: 71.9% agreed that “people in my city can influence the cultural meanings that shape our relationship to Antarctica”, while 90% agreed or strongly agreed that Hobart should play a significant role as a custodian of Antarctica’s future, and 88.4% agreed or strongly agreed that: “How we treat Antarctica is a test of our approach to ecological sustainability.” Image 3: “The Southerly” Demonstrates How Weather Connects Hobart and Antarctica. Image Credit: Jon Kudelka, Reproduced with Permission.Hobart, like the other gateways, activates these connections in its conscious place-branding. The city is particularly strong as a centre of Antarctic research: signs at the cruise-ship terminal on the waterfront claim that “There are more Antarctic scientists based in Hobart […] than at any other one place on earth, making Hobart a globally significant contributor to our understanding of Antarctica and the Southern Ocean.” Researchers are based at the Institute for Marine and Antarctic Studies (IMAS), the Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation (CSIRO), and the Australian Antarctic Division (AAD), with several working between institutions. Many Antarctic researchers located elsewhere in the world also have a connection with the place through affiliations and collaborations, leading journalist Jo Chandler to assert that “the breadth and depth of Hobart’s knowledge of ice, water, and the life forms they nurture […] is arguably unrivalled anywhere in the world” (86).Hobart also plays a significant role in Antarctica’s governance, as the site of the secretariats for the Commission for the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Living Resources (CCAMLR) and the Agreement on the Conservation of Albatrosses and Petrels (ACAP), and as host of the Antarctic Consultative Treaty Meetings on more than one occasion (1986, 2012). The cultural domain is active, with Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery (TMAG) featuring a permanent exhibit, “Islands to Ice”, emphasising the ocean as connecting the two places; the Mawson’s Huts Replica Museum aiming (among other things) to “highlight Hobart as the gateway to the Antarctic continent for the Asia Pacific region”; and a biennial Australian Antarctic Festival drawing over twenty thousand visitors, about a sixth of them from interstate or overseas (Hingley). Antarctic links are evident in the city’s natural and built environment: the dolerite columns of Mt Wellington, the statue of the Tasmanian Antarctic explorer Louis Bernacchi on the waterfront, and the wharfs that regularly accommodate icebreakers such as the Aurora Australis and the Astrolabe. Antarctica is figured as a southern neighbour; as historian Tom Griffiths puts it, Tasmanians “grow up with Antarctica breathing down their necks” (5). As an Antarctic City, Hobart mediates access to Antarctica both physically and in the cultural imaginary.Perhaps in recognition of the diverse ways in which a region or a city might be connected to Antarctica, researchers have recently been suggesting critical approaches to the ‘gateway’ label. C. Michael Hall points to a fuzziness in the way the term is applied, noting that it has drifted from its initial definition (drawn from economic geography) as denoting an access and supply point to a hinterland that produces a certain level of economic benefits. While Hall looks to keep the term robustly defined to avoid empty “local boosterism” (272–73), Gabriela Roldan aims to move the concept “beyond its function as an entry and exit door”, arguing that, among other things, the local community should be actively engaged in the Antarctic region (57). Leane, examining the representation of Hobart as a gateway in historical travel texts, concurs that “ingress and egress” are insufficient descriptors of Tasmania’s relationship with Antarctica, suggesting that at least discursively the island is positioned as “part of an Antarctic rim, itself sharing qualities of the polar region” (45). The ARC Linkage Project described above, supported by the Hobart City Council, the State Government and the University of Tasmania, as well as other national and international partners, aims to foster the idea of the Hobart and its counterparts as ‘Antarctic cities’ whose citizens act as custodians for the South Polar region, with a genuine concern for and investment in its future.Near and Far: Local Perspectives A changing climate may once again herald a shift in the identity of the Tasmanian islands. Recognition of the central role of Antarctica in regulating the global climate has generated scientific and political re-evaluation of the region. Antarctica is not only the planet’s largest heat sink but is the engine of global water currents and wind patterns that drive weather patterns and biodiversity across the world (Convey et al. 543). For example, Tas van Ommen’s research into Antarctic glaciology shows the tangible connection between increased snowfall in coastal East Antarctica and patterns of drought southwest Western Australia (van Ommen and Morgan). Hobart has become a global centre of marine and Antarctic science, bringing investment and development to the city. As the global climate heats up, Tasmania—thanks to its low latitude and southerly weather patterns—is one of the few regions in Australia likely to remain temperate. This is already leading to migration from the mainland that is impacting house prices and rental availability (Johnston; Landers 1). The region’s future is therefore closely entangled with its proximity to the far south. Salazar writes that “we cannot continue to think of Antarctica as the end of the Earth” (67). Shifting Antarctica into focus also brings Tasmania in from the margins. As an Antarctic city, Hobart assumes a privileged positioned on the global stage. This allows the city to present itself as central to international research efforts—in contrast to domestic views of the place as a small regional capital. The city inhabits dual identities; it is both on the periphery of Australian concerns and at the centre of Antarctic activity. Tasmania, then, is not in freefall, but rather at the forefront of a push to recognise Antarctica as entangled with its neighbours to the north.AcknowledgementsThis work was supported by the Australian Research Council under LP160100210.ReferencesAntonello, Alessandro. “Finding Place in Antarctica.” Antarctica and the Humanities. Eds. Peder Roberts, Lize-Marie van der Watt, and Adrian Howkins. London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2016. 181–204.Australian Government. Australian Antarctic Strategy and 20 Year Action Plan. Canberra: Commonwealth of Australia, 2016. 15 Apr. 2019. <http://www.antarctica.gov.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/0008/180827/20YearStrategy_final.pdf>.Australian Antarctic Division. “Australia-China Collaboration Strengthens.” Australian Antarctic Magazine 27 Dec. 2014. 15 Apr. 2019. <http://www.antarctica.gov.au/magazine/2011-2015/issue-27-december-2014/in-brief/australia-china-collaboration-strengthens>.Baker, Emily. “Worry at Premier’s Defence of China.” The Mercury 15 Sep. 2018: 9.Baldacchino, G. “Studying Islands: On Whose Terms?” Island Studies Journal 3.1 (2008): 37–56.Barker, Peter F., Gabriel M. Filippelli, Fabio Florindo, Ellen E. Martin, and Howard D. Schere. “Onset and Role of the Antarctic Circumpolar Current.” Deep Sea Research Part II: Topical Studies in Oceanography. 54.21–22 (2007): 2388–98.Bergin, Anthony. “Australia Needs to Strengthen Its Strategic Interests in Antarctica.” Australian Strategic Policy Institute. 29 Apr. 2016. 21 Feb. 2019 <https://www.aspi.org.au/index.php/opinion/australia-needs-strengthen-its-strategic-interests-antarctica>.Boyce, James. 1835: The Founding of Melbourne and the Conquest of Australia. Melbourne: Black Inc., 2011.Burden, Hilary. “Xi Jinping's Tasmania Visit May Seem Trivial, But Is Full of Strategy.” The Guardian 18 Nov. 2014. 19 May 2019 <https://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/nov/18/xi-jinpings-tasmania-visit-lacking-congruity-full-of-strategy>.Bureau of Infrastructure Transport and Regional Economics (BITRE). A Regional Economy: A Case Study of Tasmania. Canberra: Commonwealth of Australia, 2008. 14 May 2019 <http://www.bitre.gov.au/publications/86/Files/report116.pdf>.Chandler, Jo. “The Science Laboratory: From Little Things, Big Things Grow.” Griffith Review: Tasmania: The Tipping Point? 29 (2013) 83–101.Christchurch City Council. Statement of Intent between the Southern Rim Gateway Cities to the Antarctic: Ushuaia, Punta Arenas, Christchurch, Hobart and Cape Town. 25 Sep. 2009. 11 Apr. 2019 <http://archived.ccc.govt.nz/Council/proceedings/2009/September/CnclCover24th/Clause8Attachment.pdf>.Convey, P., R. Bindschadler, G. di Prisco, E. Fahrbach, J. Gutt, D.A. Hodgson, P.A. Mayewski, C.P. Summerhayes, J. Turner, and ACCE Consortium. “Antarctic Climate Change and the Environment.” Antarctic Science 21.6 (2009): 541–63.Cranston, C. “Rambling in Overdrive: Travelling through Tasmanian Literature.” Tasmanian Historical Studies 8.2 (2003): 28–39.Davies, Lynn, Margaret Davies, and Warren Boyles. Mapping Van Diemen’s Land and the Great Beyond: Rare and Beautiful Maps from the Royal Society of Tasmania. Hobart: The Royal Society of Tasmania, 2018.Department of Infrastructure and Regional Development. Guidelines for Analysing Regional Australia Impacts and Developing a Regional Australia Impact Statement. Canberra: Commonwealth of Australia, 2017. 11 Apr. 2019 <https://regional.gov.au/regional/information/rais/>.Dodds, Klaus. “Awkward Antarctic Nationalism: Bodies, Ice Cores and Gateways in and beyond Australian Antarctic Territory/East Antarctica.” Polar Record 53.1 (2016): 16–30.———. Geopolitics in Antarctica: Views from the Southern Oceanic Rim. Chichester: John Wiley, 1997.Griffiths, Tom. “The Breath of Antarctica.” Tasmanian Historical Studies 11 (2006): 4–14.Gutwein, Peter. “Antarctic Gateway Worth $186 Million to Tasmanian Economy.” Hobart: Tasmanian Government, 20 Feb. 2019. 21 Feb. 2019 <http://www.premier.tas.gov.au/releases/antarctic_gateway_worth_$186_million_to_tasmanian_economy>.Hall, C. Michael. “Polar Gateways: Approaches, Issues and Review.” The Polar Journal 5.2 (2015): 257–77. Harwood Andrew. “The Political Constitution of Islandness: The ‘Tasmanian Problem’ and Ten Days on the Island.” PhD Thesis. U of Tasmania, 2011. <http://eprints.utas.edu.au/11855/%5Cninternal-pdf://5288/11855.html>.Hay, Peter. “Destabilising Tasmanian Politics: The Key Role of the Greens.” Bulletin of the Centre for Tasmanian Historical Studies 3.2 (1991): 60–70.Hingley, Rebecca. Personal Communication, 28 Nov. 2018.Johnston, P. “Is the First Wave of Climate Migrants Landing in Hobart?” The Fifth Estate 11 Sep. 2018. 15 Mar. 2019 <https://www.thefifthestate.com.au/urbanism/climate-change-news/climate-migrants-landing-hobart>.Kriwoken, L., and J. Williamson. “Hobart, Tasmania: Antarctic and Southern Ocean Connections.” Polar Record 29.169 (1993): 93–102.Kudelka, John. “The Southerly.” Kudelka Cartoons. 27 Jun. 2014. 21 Feb. 2019 <https://www.kudelka.com.au/2014/06/the-southerly/>.Leane, E., T. Winter, and J.F. Salazar. “Caught between Nationalism and Internationalism: Replicating Histories of Antarctica in Hobart.” International Journal of Heritage Studies 22.3 (2016): 214–27. Leane, Elizabeth. “Tasmania from Below: Antarctic Travellers’ Accounts of a Southern ‘Gateway’.” Studies in Travel Writing 20.1 (2016): 34-48.Mawson’s Huts Replica Museum. “Mission Statement.” 15 Apr. 2019 <http://www.mawsons-huts-replica.org.au/>.Mercer, David. "Australia's Constitution, Federalism and the ‘Tasmanian Dam Case’." Political Geography Quarterly 4.2 (1985): 91–110.Paasi, A. “Deconstructing Regions: Notes on the Scales of Spatial Life.” Environment and Planning A: Economy and Space 23.2 (1991) 239–56.Reddit. “Maps without Tasmania.” 15 Apr. 2019 <https://www.reddit.com/r/MapsWithoutTasmania/>.Roldan, Gabriela. “'A Door to the Ice?: The Significance of the Antarctic Gateway Cities Today.” Journal of Antarctic Affairs 2 (2015): 57–70.Salazar, Juan Francisco. “Geographies of Place-Making in Antarctica: An Ethnographic Epproach.” The Polar Journal 3.1 (2013): 53–71.———, Elizabeth Leane, Liam Magee, and Paul James. “Five Cities That Could Change the Future of Antarctica.” The Conversation 5 Oct. 2016. 19 May 2019 <https://theconversation.com/five-cities-that-could-change-the-future-of-antarctica-66259>.Stratford, Elaine, Godfrey Baldacchino, Elizabeth McMahon, Carol Farbotko, and Andrew Harwood. “Envisioning the Archipelago.” Island Studies Journal 6.2 (2011): 113–30.Tasmanian Climate Change Office. Derivation of the Tasmanian Sea Level Rise Planning Allowances. Aug. 2012. 17 Apr. 2019 <http://www.dpac.tas.gov.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/0003/176331/Tasmanian_SeaLevelRisePlanningAllowance_TechPaper_Aug2012.pdf>.Tasmanian Government Department of State Growth. “Tasmanian Antarctic Gateway Strategy.” Hobart: Tasmanian Government, 12 Dec. 2017. 21 Feb. 2019 <https://www.antarctic.tas.gov.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/0004/164749/Tasmanian_Antarctic_Gateway_Strategy_12_Dec_2017.pdf>.———. “Tasmania Delivers…” Apr. 2016. 15 Apr. 2019 <https://www.antarctic.tas.gov.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/0005/66461/Tasmania_Delivers_Antarctic_Southern_Ocean_web.pdf>.———. “Antarctic Tasmania.” 17 Feb. 2019. 15 Apr. 2019 <https://www.antarctic.tas.gov.au/about/hobarts_antarctic_attractions>.Tasmanian Polar Network. “Welcome to the Tasmanian Polar Network.” 28 Feb. 2019 <https://www.tasmanianpolarnetwork.com.au/>.Terauds, Aleks, and Jasmine Lee. “Antarctic Biogeography Revisited: Updating the Antarctic Conservation Biogeographic Regions.” Diversity and Distributions 22 (2016): 836–40.Van Ommen, Tas, and Vin Morgan. “Snowfall Increase in Coastal East Antarctica Linked with Southwest Western Australian Drought.” Nature Geoscience 3 (2010): 267–72.Wells Economic Analysis. The Contribution of the Antarctic and Southern Ocean Sector to the Tasmanian Economy 2017. 18 Nov. 2018. 15 Apr. 2019 <https://www.stategrowth.tas.gov.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/0010/185671/Wells_Report_on_the_Value_of_the_Antarctic_Sector_2017_18.pdf>.West, J. “Obstacles to Progress: What’s Wrong with Tasmania, Really?” Griffith Review: Tasmania: The Tipping Point? 39 (2013): 31–53.

Abstract This article argues that Pacific Islander labour in Australia was not analogous to earlier Atlantic world slavery and can better be understood as its ‘illegitimate offspring’. Through case studies that connect the Caribbean to Australia, it reveals how the idea of Pacific Islander labour was forged in an environment where the abolitionist battle had been won, but where the interconnected and changing racial constructions of the time, and arguments about what constituted free labour, were very much ongoing. Money, values and personnel moved from the Caribbean and Mauritius to Australia, as explored through the stories of James Williams, a convict of African origin who grew Australia’s first sugar, and Benjamin Boyd, the son of an Atlantic slave trader who first introduced Pacific Islanders to Australia. The final case study is that of Louis Hope, whose mother’s family, the Wedderburns, had previously gained considerable notoriety in the Atlantic world for the way that they treated their enslaved people. Hope was the first person in Australia to employ a large Pacific Islander workforce on his sugar plantation.

This issue of M/C Journal explores the notion of "impact" and the capacity of contemporary research work to influence not only academia but the direction of current debates in the public sphere surrounding social, political and cultural agendas. The nine papers selected cover a broad range of topics: experimental research methodologies which confront the problem of 'measuring' research impact in the world of work; the creative industries and documentary films; identity politics debates address queer, migrant, racial issues; as well as investigations into the use of storytelling and autoethnography to promote cultural understanding and social inclusion. "Impact" for the vast majority of these contemporary cultural and social researchers is a moot term, especially the idea that the impact of research outcomes is a measurable quantity. However measuring and assessing the affect and applicability of research outcomes is an all too familiar reality, particularly since the majority of funding applications expect such a consideration. Even at the very early stages in a researcher's career, the doctoral Confirmation of Candidature demands a discussion of the proposed study's significance and potential wider cultural and social purpose. The comments of UK-based academic Ananya Kabir support this concern for the "state of research" that resonates far beyond the UK context: Academics cannot afford not to want to be impactful, or their work to be 'applicable'. On every application for funding we make to any Research Council, a 'statement of impact' is not merely desirable; it is very much a demand. This is certainly true of the situation in Australia with the previous government's 2005 planned Research Quality Framework (RQF) which advocated a strong focus on impact and the measuring of it, and the subsequent establishment in 2007 of the Excellence in Research for Australia (ERA) initiative (McDonald). While ERA's main aim is the assessment of research quality with no specific reference to "impact" as such, one of ERA's evaluation indicator categories—research application—requires such a consideration (ERA 2). Moreover, the very recent publication Measuring the Impact of Research by the Group of Eight illustrates the Australian academia's concern with the term, stressing that impact measures would greatly complement ERA's assessment (Rymer 3). However, there is substantial debate and questions raised concerning these government policy developments. Notwithstanding the difficulties of finding reliable measurement methods and differing perspectives on the evaluation of findings (cf. Group of Eight); will a single regime of measurement suit all disciplines equally? As Stefano Harney stresses impact will "subject the humanities to the same pressure as knowledge transfer did engineering and science. And meanwhile the professional schools, business, law, medicine, use their regulative status to prove impact easily, putting yet more pressure on the humanities." Stephen Shapiro paints an even darker picture: "The lesson is clear: 'impact' is the Trojan horse designed to institutionalize entrepreneurial interests that will be the 'invisible hand' policing the British academy." However, does measuring impact really restrict us to a particular definition of the term? It is impact that should be at the heart of these types of discussions not the obsession with measurement. Perhaps the challenge is to encourage high impact research without the constraint of a specific metrics. As Rick Rylance puts it: For me, thinking about impact as a challenge and not as a threat is part of this recognition. This is because impact encourages us to conceive of the disparate kinds of benefit research produces which are of many kinds. Sometimes the outcomes are of direct practical advantage. What is needed then is a greater flexibility with the term and a clearer distinction between impact and impact evaluation or measurement. Although, to some extent, we have to acknowledge the significance of impact evaluation as a necessity in demonstrating that research funding is fairly distributed and spent. Like government funding for the arts for example, it is difficult to demonstrate the value of research aside from the ability to attract financial support. Paula Gilligan observes: "The defence of the Humanities is invariably linked to the defence of the 'Arts'. We are seen to have common cause, united against the scientists, who are 'winning'. We need to start questioning this assumption." In particular, Hadley and Gattenhof's paper in this issue of M/C Journal engages a number of discourses surrounding these concerns, with their response to the Australian Government's "National Cultural Policy Discussion Paper", suggesting an approach for measuring and assessing the impact of the work of artsworkers. Central to their model is the demands of policy requirements for progress to be 'measurable' and therefore the necessity to train arts, cultural and creative workers to conduct such an assessment and to make the impact of this work evident to stakeholders. This investigation also raises questions for scholars, educators and employers about what artsworkers actually do, the worth of their work and how it could be improved upon. Two other papers propose diverse methodologies for addressing the problematic area of measurement and assessment. Humphrey's unique approach to the often neglected area of contemporary work and media, introduces the term "officing" (the daily use of information and communication technology) to explore new ways to approach the identification and measurement of the space, time and technology in everyday work practices. Drawing on the ideas of Anselm Strauss to analyse the office workplace as a "contingent and provisional arrangement or process", the author highlights the benefits of this investigation and its impact on productivity and work-life balance, with the ultimate aim to "contribute to the design of more sustainable work environments". Karlin and Johnson, on the other hand, explore another under-researched area where assessment is required: measuring the impact of films on individual attitudes and cultural narratives and evaluating its importance for documentary film campaigns. The authors argue that though it is increasingly necessary for "issue-based" films to provide information on their social investment returns to justify production costs, of equal importance is that the questions asked and the methods used to answer such queries are "valid and respectful." The paper proposes an "emerging research agenda" for the examination of documentary film which allows investigation of the importance of such evaluations and the key issues relevant to assessing their impact. The power of personal narratives is explored when Hummel investigates the tension between culture and autoethnographic performance. The author questions the "capacity of gender identification to justify the crisis of representation" and the impact of autoethnography with its "resistance to traditional culture and power divisions through its emphasis on shared experience, emotion and subjectivity." This researcher presents a highly personal narrative of her experience as a woman in Bangladesh to highlight the potential of autoethnography to promote alternate ways of understanding and transcend cultural boundaries. Hancox also examines the potential and capacity of storytelling and personal narratives to contribute to cultural research and social inclusion. Through a 2009 digital storytelling project conducted with a group of Forgotten Australians prior to the public apology in the Australian Parliament, the paper explores how the "endemic, institutionalised abuse of a group of people was translated to the broader community and galvanised support through the impact of their personal stories." This approach is advocated as a way of enhancing broader issues, such as public understanding of the needs of marginalized groups, which can result in changes to social inclusion through policy and community based solutions as "personal narratives energise public narratives and shape our ways of thinking and collective understandings" (Harter et al. 4). The effect of Government policy on citizenship and its impact on individuals and communities is examined by two writers: Chisari and Raj. Through a Foucaultian genealogical analysis of Becoming an Australian Citizen, (the resource booklet that prepares a potential new Australian for the citizenship test), Chisari explores Australian identity and how subjects are shaped by the operations of governance and the interrelationship of truth, power and knowledge. In an attempt to move beyond the History Wars, the author problematises the notion of historical "objective truths," endeavouring to influence policy-making surrounding issues of civil education for the Australian migrant. Chisari argues that such an approach has the potential to impact upon historical narratives and promote the inclusion of multiple, alternate stories of Australia and Australian identity. Raj's paper tackles the hot topic of gay marriage in policy and activist debates. With reference to the writings of Judith Butler and Michael Warner, Raj explores neo-liberal political arguments, queer theory and community politics to critique issues such as intimacy, citizenship and equality. Advocating the belief that by "understanding cultural difference(s) rather than conforming to a norm," this paper proposes a critical framework for "intimate citizenship" that provides a platform for further policy and activist dialogues. Another arena of contemporary debate is explored by Malatzky's article which examines representations surrounding what Western women should "look like as mothers," and the importance of cultural research projects for the broader community in terms of their potential to inform and direct discussions. Utilising qualitative feminist methodologies', this researcher investigates the media's role in shaping contemporary expectations surrounding the postnatal body, arguing that such investigations can influence the "creation of alternate mothering discourses, and can direct current debates that have a direct impact on, and relevance for, everyday Australian women and men." Identity is also an issue for our last early career researcher's paper. Al-Natour uses his personal experiences as a researcher investigating the controversy over a proposed Islamic school in Sydney to examine the ways a researcher's identity can affect their participants, and whether this relationship impacts data collection processes. As an outcome of these field work experiences, Al-Natour proposes a series of suggestions for fellow cultural studies researchers in dealing with such dilemmas. An exploration of the impact of cultural and social researchers in this issue of M/C Journal has ranged from the problems of measuring research outcomes to debates surrounding citizenship and identity and the power of narratives to transcend cultural boundaries. A shared belief that emerges from these explorations and proposals is that though the measurement of impact is problematic, by introducing new discourses, perspectives and paradigms which have the capacity to sway policy making, cultural researchers can position themselves as intermediaries to inform societal groups and various communities. The outcomes of these research projects can then address this concern about the affect and applicability of their findings which have the potential to present accessible, transparent and practicable forms of cultural understanding and genuine solutions to social and cultural problems. ReferencesERA. Excellence in Research for Australia – National Report. Canberra: Australian Research Council, 2010.Gilligan, Paula. "'Creative' Functionalism and Continental Philosophy at Middlesex." SocialText - Periscope (Aug. 2010). 12 Dec. 2011 ‹http://www.socialtextjournal.org/periscope/2010/08/impact-innovation-and-creative-functionalism-in-the-uk-the-case-of-the-department-of-philosophy-at-m.php›.Harney, Stefano. "The Real Knowledge Transfer." SocialText - Periscope (Aug. 2010). 12 Dec. 2011 ‹http://www.socialtextjournal.org/periscope/2010/08/the-real-knowledge-transfer.php›.Kabir, Ananya. "The Impact of 'Impact'." SocialText - Periscope (Aug. 2010). 12 Dec. 2011 ‹http://www.socialtextjournal.org/periscope/2010/08/the-impact-of-impact.php›.McDonald, Kate. "New ERA for Research Quality - Science Minister Kim Carr Announces Replacement for Dumped RQF." LifeScientist 27 Feb. 2008. 12 Dec. 2011 ‹http://www.lifescientist.com.au/article/207244/new_era_research_quality/›.Rymer, Les. "Measuring the Impact of Research – The Context for Metric Development." Go8 Backgrounder 23 (2011).RQF. Assessing the Quality and Impact of Research in Australia - Issues Paper. Canberra: Commonwealth of Australia, 2005.Rylance, Rick. "The Impact Effect." SocialText - Periscope (Aug. 2010). 12 Dec. 2011 ‹http://www.socialtextjournal.org/periscope/2010/08/the-impact-effect.php›.Shapiro, Stephen. "Deepwater Impact." SocialText - Periscope (Aug. 2010). 12 Dec. 2011 ‹http://www.socialtextjournal.org/periscope/2010/08/deepwater-impact.php›.

When we think of disability today in the Western world, Christopher Reeve most likely comes to mind. A film star who captured people’s imagination as Superman, Reeve was already a celebrity before he took the fall that would lead to his new position in the fame game: the role of super-crip. As a person with acquired quadriplegia, Christopher Reeve has become both the epitome of disability in Western culture — the powerful cultural myth of disability as tragedy and catastrophe — and, in an intimately related way, the icon for the high-technology quest for cure. The case of Reeve is fascinating, yet critical discussion of Christopher Reeve in terms of fame, celebrity and his performance of disability is conspicuously lacking (for a rare exception see McRuer). To some extent this reflects the comparative lack of engagement of media and cultural studies with disability (Goggin). To redress this lacuna, we draw upon theories of celebrity (Dyer; Marshall; Turner, Bonner, & Marshall; Turner) to explore the production of Reeve as celebrity, as well as bringing accounts of celebrity into dialogue with critical disability studies. Reeve is a cultural icon, not just because of the economy, industrial processes, semiotics, and contemporary consumption of celebrity, outlined in Turner’s 2004 framework. Fame and celebrity are crucial systems in the construction of disability; and the circulation of Reeve-as-celebrity only makes sense if we understand the centrality of disability to culture and media. Reeve plays an enormously important (if ambiguous) function in the social relations of disability, at the heart of the discursive underpinning of the otherness of disability and the construction of normal sexed and gendered bodies (the normate) in everyday life. What is distinctive and especially powerful about this instance of fame and disability is how authenticity plays through the body of the celebrity Reeve; how his saintly numinosity is received by fans and admirers with passion, pathos, pleasure; and how this process places people with disabilities in an oppressive social system, so making them subject(s). An Accidental Star Born September 25, 1952, Christopher Reeve became famous for his roles in the 1978 movie Superman, and the subsequent three sequels (Superman II, III, IV), as well as his role in other films such as Monsignor. As well as becoming a well-known actor, Reeve gained a profile for his activism on human rights, solidarity, environmental, and other issues. In May 1995 Reeve acquired a disability in a riding accident. In the ensuing months, Reeve’s situation attracted a great deal of international attention. He spent six months in the Kessler Rehabilitation Institute in New Jersey, and there gave a high-rating interview on US television personality Barbara Walters’ 20/20 program. In 1996, Reeve appeared at the Academy Awards, was a host at the 1996 Paralympic Games, and was invited to speak at the Democratic National Convention. In the same year Reeve narrated a film about the lives of people living with disabilities (Mierendorf). In 1998 his memoir Still Me was published, followed in 2002 by another book Nothing Is Impossible. Reeve’s active fashioning of an image and ‘new life’ (to use his phrase) stands in stark contrast with most people with disabilities, who find it difficult to enter into the industry and system of celebrity, because they are most often taken to be the opposite of glamorous or important. They are objects of pity, or freaks to be stared at (Mitchell & Synder; Thomson), rather than assuming other attributes of stars. Reeve became famous for his disability, indeed very early on he was acclaimed as the pre-eminent American with disability — as in the phrase ‘President of Disability’, an appellation he attracted. Reeve was quickly positioned in the celebrity industry, not least because his example, image, and texts were avidly consumed by viewers and readers. For millions of people — as evident in the letters compiled in the 1999 book Care Packages by his wife, Dana Reeve — Christopher Reeve is a hero, renowned for his courage in doing battle with his disability and his quest for a cure. Part of the creation of Reeve as celebrity has been a conscious fashioning of his life as an instructive fable. A number of biographies have now been published (Havill; Hughes; Oleksy; Wren). Variations on a theme, these tend to the hagiographic: Christopher Reeve: Triumph over Tragedy (Alter). Those interested in Reeve’s life and work can turn also to fan websites. Most tellingly perhaps is the number of books, fables really, aimed at children, again, on a characteristic theme: Learning about Courage from the Life of Christopher Reeve (Kosek; see also Abraham; Howard). The construction, but especially the consumption, of Reeve as disabled celebrity, is consonant with powerful cultural myths and tropes of disability. In many Western cultures, disability is predominantly understood a tragedy, something that comes from the defects and lack of our bodies, whether through accidents of birth or life. Those ‘suffering’ with disability, according to this cultural myth, need to come to terms with this bitter tragedy, and show courage in heroically overcoming their lot while they bide their time for the cure that will come. The protagonist for this this script is typically the ‘brave’ person with disability; or, as this figure is colloquially known in critical disability studies and the disability movement — the super-crip. This discourse of disability exerts a strong force today, and is known as the ‘medical’ model. It interacts with a prior, but still active charity discourse of disability (Fulcher). There is a deep cultural history of disability being seen as something that needs to be dealt with by charity. In late modernity, charity is very big business indeed, and celebrities play an important role in representing the good works bestowed on people with disabilities by rich donors. Those managing celebrities often suggest that the star finds a charity to gain favourable publicity, a routine for which people with disabilities are generally the pathetic but handy extras. Charity dinners and events do not just reinforce the tragedy of disability, but they also leave unexamined the structural nature of disability, and its associated disadvantage. Those critiquing the medical and charitable discourses of disability, and the oppressive power relations of disability that it represents, point to the social and cultural shaping of disability, most famously in the British ‘social’ model of disability — but also from a range of other perspectives (Corker and Thomas). Those formulating these critiques point to the crucial function that the trope of the super-crip plays in the policing of people with disabilities in contemporary culture and society. Indeed how the figure of the super-crip is also very much bound up with the construction of the ‘normal’ body, a general economy of representation that affects everyone. Superman Flies Again The celebrity of Christopher Reeve and what it reveals for an understanding of fame and disability can be seen with great clarity in his 2002 visit to Australia. In 2002 there had been a heated national debate on the ethics of use of embryonic stem cells for research. In an analysis of three months of the print media coverage of these debates, we have suggested that disability was repeatedly, almost obsessively, invoked in these debates (‘Uniting the Nation’). Yet the dominant representation of disability here was the cultural myth of disability as tragedy, requiring cure at all cost, and that this trope was central to the way that biotechnology was constructed as requiring an urgent, united national response. Significantly, in these debates, people with disabilities were often talked about but very rarely licensed to speak. Only one person with disability was, and remains, a central figure in these Australian stem cell and biotechnology policy conversations: Christopher Reeve. As an outspoken advocate of research on embryonic stem-cells in the quest for a cure for spinal injuries, as well as other diseases, Reeve’s support was enlisted by various protagonists. The current affairs show Sixty Minutes (modelled after its American counterpart) presented Reeve in debate with Australian critics: PRESENTER: Stem cell research is leading to perhaps the greatest medical breakthroughs of all time… Imagine a world where paraplegics could walk or the blind could see … But it’s a breakthrough some passionately oppose. A breakthrough that’s caused a fierce personal debate between those like actor Christopher Reeve, who sees this technology as a miracle, and those who regard it as murder. (‘Miracle or Murder?’) Sixty Minutes starkly portrays the debate in Manichean terms: lunatics standing in the way of technological progress versus Christopher Reeve flying again tomorrow. Christopher presents the debate in utilitarian terms: CHRISTOPHER REEVE: The purpose of government, really in a free society, is to do the greatest good for the greatest number of people. And that question should always be in the forefront of legislators’ minds. (‘Miracle or Murder?’) No criticism of Reeve’s position was offered, despite the fierce debate over the implications of such utilitarian rhetoric for minorities such as people with disabilities (including himself!). Yet this utilitarian stance on disability has been elaborated by philosopher Peter Singer, and trenchantly critiqued by the international disability rights movement. Later in 2002, the Premier of New South Wales, Bob Carr, invited Reeve to visit Australia to participate in the New South Wales Spinal Cord Forum. A journalist by training, and skilled media practitioner, Carr had been the most outspoken Australian state premier urging the Federal government to permit the use of embryonic stem cells for research. Carr’s reasons were as much as industrial as benevolent, boosting the stocks of biotechnology as a clean, green, boom industry. Carr cleverly and repeated enlisted stereotypes of disability in the service of his cause. Christopher Reeve was flown into Australia on a specially modified Boeing 747, free of charge courtesy of an Australian airline, and was paid a hefty appearance fee. Not only did Reeve’s fee hugely contrast with meagre disability support pensions many Australians with disabilities live on, he was literally the only voice and image of disability given any publicity. Consuming Celebrity, Contesting Crips As our analysis of Reeve’s antipodean career suggests, if disability were a republic, and Reeve its leader, its polity would look more plutocracy than democracy; as befits modern celebrity with its constitutive tensions between the demotic and democratic (Turner). For his part, Reeve has criticised the treatment of people with disabilities, and how they are stereotyped, not least the narrow concept of the ‘normal’ in mainstream films. This is something that has directly effected his career, which has become limited to narration or certain types of television and film work. Reeve’s reprise on his culture’s notion of disability comes with his starring role in an ironic, high-tech 1998 remake of Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window (Bleckner), a movie that in the original featured a photojournalist injured and temporarily using a wheelchair. Reeve has also been a strong advocate, lobbyist, and force in the politics of disability. His activism, however, has been far more strongly focussed on finding a cure for people with spinal injuries — rather than seeking to redress inequality and discrimination of all people with disabilities. Yet Reeve’s success in the notoriously fickle star system that allows disability to be understood and mapped in popular culture is mostly an unexplored paradox. As we note above, the construction of Reeve as celebrity, celebrating his individual resilience and resourcefulness, and his authenticity, functions precisely to sustain the ‘truth’ and the power relations of disability. Reeve’s celebrity plays an ideological role, knitting together a set of discourses: individualism; consumerism; democratic capitalism; and the primacy of the able body (Marshall; Turner). The nature of this cultural function of Reeve’s celebrity is revealed in the largely unpublicised contests over his fame. At the same time Reeve was gaining fame with his traditional approach to disability and reinforcement of the continuing catastrophe of his life, he was attracting an infamy within certain sections of the international disability rights movement. In a 1996 US debate disability scholar David T Mitchell put it this way: ‘He’s [Reeve] the good guy — the supercrip, the Superman, and those of us who can live with who we are with our disabilities, but who cannot live with, and in fact, protest and retaliate against the oppression we confront every second of our lives are the bad guys’ (Mitchell, quoted in Brown). Many feel, like Mitchell, that Reeve’s focus on a cure ignores the unmet needs of people with disabilities for daily access to support services and for the ending of their brutal, dehumanising, daily experience as other (Goggin & Newell, Disability in Australia). In her book Make Them Go Away Mary Johnson points to the conservative forces that Christopher Reeve is associated with and the way in which these forces have been working to oppose the acceptance of disability rights. Johnson documents the way in which fame can work in a variety of ways to claw back the rights of Americans with disabilities granted in the Americans with Disabilities Act, documenting the association of Reeve and, in a different fashion, Clint Eastwood as stars who have actively worked to limit the applicability of civil rights legislation to people with disabilities. Like other successful celebrities, Reeve has been assiduous in managing his image, through the use of celebrity professionals including public relations professionals. In his Australian encounters, for example, Reeve gave a variety of media interviews to Australian journalists and yet the editor of the Australian disability rights magazine Link was unable to obtain an interview. Despite this, critiques of the super-crip celebrity function of Reeve by people with disabilities did circulate at the margins of mainstream media during his Australian visit, not least in disability media and the Internet (Leipoldt, Newell, and Corcoran, 2003). Infamous Disability Like the lives of saints, it is deeply offensive to many to criticise Christopher Reeve. So deeply engrained are the cultural myths of the catastrophe of disability and the creation of Reeve as icon that any critique runs the risk of being received as sacrilege, as one rare iconoclastic website provocatively prefigures (Maddox). In this highly charged context, we wish to acknowledge his contribution in highlighting some aspects of contemporary disability, and emphasise our desire not to play Reeve the person — rather to explore the cultural and media dimensions of fame and disability. In Christopher Reeve we find a remarkable exception as someone with disability who is celebrated in our culture. We welcome a wider debate over what is at stake in this celebrity and how Reeve’s renown differs from other disabled stars, as, for example, in Robert McRuer reflection that: ... at the beginning of the last century the most famous person with disabilities in the world, despite her participation in an ‘overcoming’ narrative, was a socialist who understood that disability disproportionately impacted workers and the power[less]; Helen Keller knew that blindness and deafness, for instance, often resulted from industrial accidents. At the beginning of this century, the most famous person with disabilities in the world is allowing his image to be used in commercials … (McRuer 230) For our part, we think Reeve’s celebrity plays an important contemporary role because it binds together a constellation of economic, political, and social institutions and discourses — namely science, biotechnology, and national competitiveness. In the second half of 2004, the stem cell debate is once again prominent in American debates as a presidential election issue. Reeve figures disability in national culture in his own country and internationally, as the case of the currency of his celebrity in Australia demonstrates. In this light, we have only just begun to register, let alone explore and debate, what is entailed for us all in the production of this disabled fame and infamy. Epilogue to “Fame and Disability” Christopher Reeve died on Sunday 10 October 2004, shortly after this article was accepted for publication. His death occasioned an outpouring of condolences, mourning, and reflection. We share that sense of loss. How Reeve will be remembered is still unfolding. The early weeks of public mourning have emphasised his celebrity as the very embodiment and exemplar of disabled identity: ‘The death of Christopher Reeve leaves embryonic-stem-cell activism without one of its star generals’ (Newsweek); ‘He Never Gave Up: What actor and activist Christopher Reeve taught scientists about the treatment of spinal-cord injury’ (Time); ‘Incredible Journey: Facing tragedy, Christopher Reeve inspired the world with hope and a lesson in courage’ (People); ‘Superman’s Legacy’ (The Express); ‘Reeve, the Real Superman’ (Hindustani Times). In his tribute New South Wales Premier Bob Carr called Reeve the ‘most impressive person I have ever met’, and lamented ‘Humankind has lost an advocate and friend’ (Carr). The figure of Reeve remains central to how disability is represented. In our culture, death is often closely entwined with disability (as in the saying ‘better dead than disabled’), something Reeve reflected upon himself often. How Reeve’s ‘global mourning’ partakes and shapes in this dense knots of associations, and how it transforms his celebrity, is something that requires further work (Ang et. al.). The political and analytical engagement with Reeve’s celebrity and mourning at this time serves to underscore our exploration of fame and disability in this article. Already there is his posthumous enlistment in the United States Presidential elections, where disability is both central and yet marginal, people with disability talked about rather than listened to. The ethics of stem cell research was an election issue before Reeve’s untimely passing, with Democratic presidential contender John Kerry sharply marking his difference on this issue with President Bush. After Reeve’s death his widow Dana joined the podium on the Kerry campaign in Columbus, Ohio, to put the case herself; for his part, Kerry compared Bush’s opposition to stem cell research as akin to favouring the candle lobby over electricity. As we write, the US polls are a week away, but the cultural representation of disability — and the intensely political role celebrity plays in it — appears even more palpably implicated in the government of society itself. References Abraham, Philip. Christopher Reeve. New York: Children’s Press, 2002. Alter, Judy. Christopher Reeve: Triumph over Tragedy. Danbury, Conn.: Franklin Watts, 2000. Ang, Ien, Ruth Barcan, Helen Grace, Elaine Lally, Justine Lloyd, and Zoe Sofoulis (eds.) Planet Diana: Cultural Studies and Global Mourning. Sydney: Research Centre in Intercommunal Studies, University of Western Sydney, Nepean, 1997. Bleckner, Jeff, dir. Rear Window. 1998. Brown, Steven E. “Super Duper? The (Unfortunate) Ascendancy of Christopher Reeve.” Mainstream: Magazine of the Able-Disabled, October 1996. Repr. 10 Aug. 2004 http://www.independentliving.org/docs3/brown96c.html>. Carr, Bob. “A Class Act of Grace and Courage.” Sydney Morning Herald. 12 Oct. 2004: 14. Corker, Mairian and Carol Thomas. “A Journey around the Social Model.” Disability/Postmodernity: Embodying Disability Theory. Ed. Mairian Corker and Tom Shakespeare. London and New York: Continuum, 2000. Donner, Richard, dir. Superman. 1978. Dyer, Richard. Heavenly Bodies: Film Stars and Society. London: BFI Macmillan, 1986. Fulcher, Gillian. Disabling Policies? London: Falmer Press, 1989. Furie, Sidney J., dir. Superman IV: The Quest for Peace. 1987. Finn, Margaret L. Christopher Reeve. Philadelphia: Chelsea House Publishers, 1997. Gilmer, Tim. “The Missionary Reeve.” New Mobility. November 2002. 13 Aug. 2004 http://www.newmobility.com/>. Goggin, Gerard. “Media Studies’ Disability.” Media International Australia 108 (Aug. 2003): 157-68. Goggin, Gerard, and Christopher Newell. Disability in Australia: Exposing a Social Apartheid. Sydney: UNSW Press, 2005. —. “Uniting the Nation?: Disability, Stem Cells, and the Australian Media.” Disability & Society 19 (2004): 47-60. Havill, Adrian. Man of Steel: The Career and Courage of Christopher Reeve. New York, N.Y.: Signet, 1996. Howard, Megan. Christopher Reeve. Minneapolis: Lerner Publications, 1999. Hughes, Libby. Christopher Reeve. Parsippany, NJ.: Dillon Press, 1998. Johnson, Mary. Make Them Go Away: Clint Eastwood, Christopher Reeve and the Case Against Disability Rights. Louisville : Advocado Press, 2003. Kosek, Jane Kelly. Learning about Courage from the Life of Christopher Reeve. 1st ed. New York : PowerKids Press, 1999. Leipoldt, Erik, Christopher Newell, and Maurice Corcoran. “Christopher Reeve and Bob Carr Dehumanise Disability — Stem Cell Research Not the Best Solution.” Online Opinion 27 Jan. 2003. http://www.onlineopinion.com.au/view.asp?article=510>. Lester, Richard (dir.) Superman II. 1980. —. Superman III. 1983. Maddox. “Christopher Reeve Is an Asshole.” 12 Aug. 2004 http://maddox.xmission.com/c.cgi?u=creeve>. Marshall, P. David. Celebrity and Power: Fame in Contemporary Culture. Minneapolis and London: U of Minnesota P, 1997. Mierendorf, Michael, dir. Without Pity: A Film about Abilities. Narr. Christopher Reeve. 1996. “Miracle or Murder?” Sixty Minutes. Channel 9, Australia. March 17, 2002. 15 June 2002 http://news.ninemsn.com.au/sixtyminutes/stories/2002_03_17/story_532.asp>. Mitchell, David, and Synder, Sharon, eds. The Body and Physical Difference. Ann Arbor, U of Michigan, 1997. McRuer, Robert. “Critical Investments: AIDS, Christopher Reeve, and Queer/Disability Studies.” Journal of Medical Humanities 23 (2002): 221-37. Oleksy, Walter G. Christopher Reeve. San Diego, CA: Lucent, 2000. Reeve, Christopher. Nothing Is Impossible: Reflections on a New Life. 1st ed. New York: Random House, 2002. —. Still Me. 1st ed. New York: Random House, 1998. Reeve, Dana, comp. Care Packages: Letters to Christopher Reeve from Strangers and Other Friends. 1st ed. New York: Random House, 1999. Reeve, Matthew (dir.) Christopher Reeve: Courageous Steps. Television documentary, 2002. Thomson, Rosemary Garland, ed. Freakery: Cultural Spectacles of the Extraordinary Body. New York: New York UP, 1996. Turner, Graeme. Understanding Celebrity. Thousands Oak, CA: Sage, 2004. Turner, Graeme, Frances Bonner, and David P Marshall. Fame Games: The Production of Celebrity in Australia. Melbourne: Cambridge UP, 2000. Wren, Laura Lee. Christopher Reeve: Hollywood’s Man of Courage. Berkeley Heights, NJ : Enslow, 1999. Younis, Steve. “Christopher Reeve Homepage.” 12 Aug. 2004 http://www.fortunecity.com/lavender/greatsleep/1023/main.html>. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Goggin, Gerard & Newell, Christopher. "Fame and Disability: Christopher Reeve, Super Crips, and Infamous Celebrity." M/C Journal 7.5 (2004). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0411/02-goggin.php>. APA Style Goggin, G. & Newell, C. (Nov. 2004) "Fame and Disability: Christopher Reeve, Super Crips, and Infamous Celebrity," M/C Journal, 7(5). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0411/02-goggin.php>.

Why did historical anti-poverty programs in Britain, Denmark and France differ so dramatically in their goals, beneficiaries and agents for addressing poverty? Different cultural views of poverty contributed to how policy makers envisioned anti-poverty reforms. Danish elites articulated social investments in peasants as necessary to economic growth, political stability and societal strength. British elites viewed the lower classes as a challenge to these goals. The French perceived the poor as an opportunity for Christian charity. Fiction writers are overlooked political agents who engage in policy struggles. Collectively, writers contribute to a country's distinctive ‘cultural constraint’, or symbols and narratives, which appears in the national-level aggregation of literature. To assess cross-national variations in cultural depictions of poverty, this article uses historical case studies and quantitative textual analyses of 562 British, 521 Danish and 498 French fictional works from 1770 to 1920.

This article presents an overview of Second World War bomb damage to British towns and cities and a systematic evaluation of the relationship between damage, revisioning, replanning, and actual reconstruction in a sample of cities—Bath, Birmingham, and Hull. Two were severely affected by aerial bombing as port/industrial targets, and the third for propaganda purposes as a historical city. Two had extensive plans produced by eminent consultants (both involving Patrick Abercrombie) but the city managers of the third did not support “big plans.” Birmingham, without a specific plan, rebuilt extensively and relatively quickly. Hull’s plan was disliked locally and virtually vanished. Bath was repaired rather than rebuilt. These contrasting experiences have shaped the contemporary city via subsequent generations of replanning (not all of which was implemented) and, in Birmingham’s case, the demolition of major reconstruction investments after relatively short lifespans. The article demonstrates the difficulty of conceptualising a generic approach to post-catastrophe reconstruction and the problems of such large-scale change over a short period for the longer-term effective functioning of the city.

Each community’s title deed carries the indelible blood stains of our ancestors. (Watson, "Howard’s End" 2)IntroductionAccording to the Oxford English Dictionary, the term coalition comes from the Latin coalescere or ‘coalesce’, meaning “come or bring together to form one mass or whole”. Coalesce refers to the unity affirmed as something grows: co – “together”, alesce – “to grow up”. While coalition is commonly associated with formalised alliances and political strategy in the name of self-interest and common goals, this paper will draw as well on the broader etymological understanding of coalition as “growing together” in order to discuss the Australian government’s recent changes to land rights legislation, the 2007 Emergency Intervention into the Northern Territory, and its decision to use Indigenous land in the Northern Territory as a dumping ground for nuclear waste. What unites these distinct cases is the role of the Australian nation-state in asserting its sovereign right to decide, something Giorgio Agamben notes is the primary indicator of sovereign right and power (Agamben). As Fiona McAllan has argued in relation to the Northern Territory Intervention: “Various forces that had been coalescing and captivating the moral, imaginary centre were now contributing to a spectacular enactment of a sovereign rescue mission” (par. 18). Different visions of “growing together”, and different coalitional strategies, are played out in public debate and policy formation. This paper will argue that each of these cases represents an alliance between successive, oppositional governments - and the nourishment of neoliberal imperatives - over and against the interests of some of the Indigenous communities, especially with relation to land rights. A critical stance is taken in relation to the alterations to land rights laws over the past five years and with the Northern Territory Emergency Intervention, hereinafter referred to as the Intervention, firstly by the Howard Liberal Coalition Government and later continued, in what Anthony Lambert has usefully termed a “postcoalitional” fashion, by the Rudd Labor Government. By this, Lambert refers to the manner in which dominant relations of power continue despite the apparent collapse of old political coalitions and even in the face of seemingly progressive symbolic and material change. It is not the intention of this paper to locate Indigenous people in opposition to models of economic development aligned with neoliberalism. There are examples of productive relations between Indigenous communities and mining companies, in which Indigenous people retain control over decision-making and utilise Land Council’s to negotiate effectively. Major mining company Rio Tinto, for example, initiated an Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders Policy platform in the mid-1990s (Rio Tinto). Moreover, there are diverse perspectives within the Indigenous community regarding social and economic reform governed by neoliberal agendas as well as government initiatives such as the Intervention, motivated by a concern for the abuse of children, as outlined in The Little Children Are Sacred Report (Wild & Anderson; hereinafter Little Children). Indeed, there is no agreement on whether or not the Intervention had anything to do with land rights. On the one hand, Noel Pearson has strongly opposed this assertion: “I've got as much objections as anybody to the ideological prejudices of the Howard Government in relation to land, but this question is not about a 'land grab'. The Anderson Wild Report tells us about the scale of Aboriginal children's neglect and abuse" (ABC). Marcia Langton has agreed with this stating that “There's a cynical view afoot that the emergency intervention was a political ploy - a Trojan Horse - to sneak through land grabs and some gratuitous black head-kicking disguised as concern for children. These conspiracy theories abound, and they are mostly ridiculous” (Langton). Patrick Dodson on the other hand, has argued that yes, of course, the children remain the highest priority, but that this “is undermined by the Government's heavy-handed authoritarian intervention and its ideological and deceptive land reform agenda” (Dodson). WhitenessOne way to frame this issue is to look at it through the lens of critical race and whiteness theory. Is it possible that the interests of whiteness are at play in the coalitions of corporate/private enterprise and political interests in the Northern Territory, in the coupling of social conservatism and economic rationalism? Using this framework allows us to identify the partial interests at play and the implications of this for discussions in Australia around sovereignty and self-determination, as well as providing a discursive framework through which to understand how these coalitional interests represent a specific understanding of progress, growth and development. Whiteness theory takes an empirically informed stance in order to critique the operation of unequal power relations and discriminatory practices imbued in racialised structures. Whiteness and critical race theory take the twin interests of racial privileging and racial discrimination and discuss their historical and on-going relevance for law, philosophy, representation, media, politics and policy. Foregrounding contemporary analysis in whiteness studies is the central role of race in the development of the Australian nation, most evident in the dispossession and destruction of Indigenous lands, cultures and lives, which occurred initially prior to Federation, as well as following. Cheryl Harris’s landmark paper “Whiteness as Property” argues, in the context of the US, that “the origins of property rights ... are rooted in racial domination” and that the “interaction between conceptions of race and property ... played a critical role in establishing and maintaining racial and economic subordination” (Harris 1716).Reiterating the logic of racial inferiority and the assumption of a lack of rationality and civility, Indigenous people were named in the Australian Constitution as “flora and fauna” – which was not overturned until a national referendum in 1967. This, coupled with the logic of terra nullius represents the racist foundational logic of Australian statehood. As is well known, terra nullius declared that the land belonged to no-one, denying Indigenous people property rights over land. Whiteness, Moreton-Robinson contends, “is constitutive of the epistemology of the West; it is an invisible regime of power that secures hegemony through discourse and has material effects in everyday life” (Whiteness 75).In addition to analysing racial power structures, critical race theory has presented studies into the link between race, whiteness and neoliberalism. Roberts and Mahtami argue that it is not just that neoliberalism has racialised effects, rather that neoliberalism and its underlying philosophy is “fundamentally raced and produces racialized bodies” (248; also see Goldberg Threat). The effect of the free market on state sovereignty has been hotly debated too. Aihwa Ong contends that neoliberalism produces particular relationships between the state and non-state corporations, as well as determining the role of individuals within the body-politic. Ong specifies:Market-driven logic induces the co-ordination of political policies with the corporate interests, so that developmental discussions favour the fragmentation of the national space into various contiguous zones, and promote the differential regulation of the populations who can be connected to or disconnected from global circuits of capital. (Ong, Neoliberalism 77)So how is whiteness relevant to a discussion of land reform, and to the changes to land rights passed along with Intervention legislation in 2007? Irene Watson cites the former Minister for Indigenous Affairs, Mal Brough, who opposed the progressive individual with what he termed the “failed collective.” Watson asserts that in the debates around land leasing and the Intervention, “Aboriginal law and traditional roles and responsibilities for caring and belonging to country are transformed into the cause for community violence” (Sovereign Spaces 34). The effects of this, I will argue, are twofold and move beyond a moral or social agenda in the strictest sense of the terms: firstly to promote, and make more accessible, the possibility of private and government coalitions in relation to Indigenous lands, and secondly, to reinforce the sovereignty of the state, recognised in the capacity to make decisions. It is here that the explicit reiteration of what Aileen Moreton-Robinson calls “white possession” is clearly evidenced (The Possessive Logic). Sovereign Interventions In the Northern Territory 50% of land is owned by Indigenous people under the Aboriginal Land Rights Act 1976 (ALRA) (NT). This law gives Indigenous people control, mediated via land councils, over their lands. It is the contention of this paper that the rights enabled through this law have been eroded in recent times in the coalescing interests of government and private enterprise via, broadly, land rights reform measures. In August 2007 the government passed a number of laws that overturned aspects of the Racial Discrimination Act 197 5(RDA), including the Northern Territory National Emergency Response Bill 2007 and the Aboriginal Land Rights (Northern Territory) Amendment (Township Leasing) Bill 2007. Ostensibly these laws were a response to evidence of alarming levels of child abuse in remote Indigenous communities, which has been compiled in the special report Little Children, co-chaired by Rex Wild QC and Patricia Anderson. This report argued that urgent but culturally appropriate strategies were required in order to assist the local communities in tackling the issues. The recommendations of the report did not include military intervention, and instead prioritised the need to support and work in dialogue with local Indigenous people and organisations who were already attempting, with extremely limited resources, to challenge the problem. Specifically it stated that:The thrust of our recommendations, which are designed to advise the NT government on how it can help support communities to effectively prevent and tackle child sexual abuse, is for there to be consultation with, and ownership by the local communities, of these solutions. (Wild & Anderson 23) Instead, the Federal Coalition government, with support from the opposition Labor Party, initiated a large scale intervention, which included the deployment of the military, to install order and assist medical personnel to carry out compulsory health checks on minors. The intervention affected 73 communities with populations of over 200 Aboriginal men, women and children (Altman, Neo-Paternalism 8). The reality of high levels of domestic and sexual abuse in Indigenous communities requires urgent and diligent attention, but it is not the space of this paper to unpack the media spectacle or the politically determined response to these serious issues, or the considered and careful reports such as the one cited above. While the report specifies the need for local solutions and local control of the process and decision-making, the Federal Liberal Coalition government’s intervention, and the current Labor government’s faithfulness to these, has been centralised and external, imposed upon communities. Rebecca Stringer argues that the Trojan horse thesis indicates what is at stake in this Intervention, while also pinpointing its main weakness. That is, the counter-intuitive links its architects make between addressing child sexual abuse and re-litigating Indigenous land tenure and governance arrangements in a manner that undermines Aboriginal sovereignty and further opens Aboriginal lands to private interests among the mining, nuclear power, tourism, property development and labour brokerage industries. (par. 8)Alongside welfare quarantining for all Indigenous people, was a decision by parliament to overturn the “permit system”, a legal protocol provided by the ALRA and in place so as to enable Indigenous peoples the right to refuse and grant entry to strangers wanting to access their lands. To place this in a broader context of land rights reform, the Aboriginal Land Rights (Northern Territory) Act 2006, created the possibility of 99 year individual leases, at the expense of communal ownership. The legislation operates as a way of individualising the land arrangements in remote Indigenous communities by opening communal land up as private plots able to be bought by Aboriginal people or any other interested party. Indeed, according to Leon Terrill, land reform in Australia over the past 10 years reflects an attempt to return control of decision-making to government bureaucracy, even as governments have downplayed this aspect. Terrill argues that Township Leasing (enabled via the 2006 legislation), takes “wholesale decision-making about land use” away from Traditional Owners and instead places it in the hands of a government entity called the Executive Director of Township Leasing (3). With the passage of legislation around the Intervention, five year leases were created to enable the Commonwealth “administrative control” over the communities affected (Terrill 3). Finally, under the current changes it is unlikely that more than a small percentage of Aboriginal people will be able to access individual land leasing. Moreover, the argument has been presented that these reforms reflect a broader project aimed at replacing communal land ownership arrangements. This agenda has been justified at a rhetorical level via the demonization of communal land ownership arrangements. Helen Hughes and Jenness Warin, researchers at the rightwing think-tank, the Centre for Independent Studies (CIS), released a report entitled A New Deal for Aborigines and Torres Strait Islanders in Remote Communities, in which they argue that there is a direct casual link between communal ownership and economic underdevelopment: “Communal ownership of land, royalties and other resources is the principle cause of the lack of economic development in remote areas” (in Norberry & Gardiner-Garden 8). In 2005, then Prime Minister, John Howard, publicly introduced the government’s ambition to alter the structure of Indigenous land arrangements, couching his agenda in the language of “equal opportunity”. I believe there’s a case for reviewing the whole issue of Aboriginal land title in the sense of looking more towards private recognition …, I’m talking about giving them the same opportunities as the rest of their fellow Australians. (Watson, "Howard’s End" 1)Scholars of critical race theory have argued that the language of equality, usually tied to liberalism (though not always) masks racial inequality and even results in “camouflaged racism” (Davis 61). David Theo Goldberg notes that, “the racial status-quo - racial exclusions and privileges favouring for the most part middle - and upper class whites - is maintained by formalising equality through states of legal and administrative science” (Racial State 222). While Howard and his coalition of supporters have associated communal title with disadvantage and called for the equality to be found in individual leases (Dodson), Altman has argued that there is no logical link between forms of communal land ownership and incidences of sexual abuse, and indeed, the government’s use of sexual abuse disingenuously disguises it’s imperative to alter the land ownership arrangements: “Given the proposed changes to the ALRA are in no way associated with child sexual abuse in Aboriginal communities […] there is therefore no pressing urgency to pass the amendments.” (Altman National Emergency, 3) In the case of the Intervention, land rights reforms have affected the continued dispossession of Indigenous people in the interests of “commercial development” (Altman Neo-Paternalism 8). In light of this it can be argued that what is occurring conforms to what Aileen Moreton-Robinson has highlighted as the “possessive logic of patriarchal white sovereignty” (Possessive Logic). White sovereignty, under the banner of benevolent paternalism overturns the authority it has conceded to local Indigenous communities. This is realised via township leases, five year leases, housing leases and other measures, stripping them of the right to refuse the government and private enterprise entry into their lands (effectively the right of control and decision-making), and opening them up to, as Stringer argues, a range of commercial and government interests. Future Concerns and Concluding NotesThe etymological root of coalition is coalesce, inferring the broad ambition to “grow together”. In the issues outlined above, growing together is dominated by neoliberal interests, or what Stringer has termed “assimilatory neoliberation”. The issue extends beyond a social and economic assimilationism project and into a political and legal “land grab”, because, as Ong notes, the neoliberal agenda aligns itself with the nation-state. This coalitional arrangement of neoliberal and governmental interests reiterates “white possession” (Moreton-Robinson, The Possessive Logic). This is evidenced in the position of the current Labor government decision to uphold the nomination of Muckaty as a radioactive waste repository site in Australia (Stokes). In 2007, the Northern Land Council (NLC) nominated Muckaty Station to be the site for waste disposal. This decision cannot be read outside the context of Maralinga, in the South Australian desert, a site where experiments involving nuclear technology were conducted in the 1960s. As John Keane recounts, the Australian government permitted the British government to conduct tests, dispossessing the local Aboriginal group, the Tjarutja, and employing a single patrol officer “the job of monitoring the movements of the Aborigines and quarantining them in settlements” (Keane). Situated within this historical colonial context, in 2006, under a John Howard led Liberal Coalition, the government passed the Commonwealth Radioactive Waste Management Act (CRWMA), a law which effectively overrode the rulings of the Northern Territory government in relation decisions regarding nuclear waste disposal, as well as overriding the rights of traditional Aboriginal owners and the validity of sacred sites. The Australian Labor government has sought to alter the CRWMA in order to reinstate the importance of following due process in the nomination process of land. However, it left the proposed site of Muckaty as confirmed, and the new bill, titled National Radioactive Waste Management retains many of the same characteristics of the Howard government legislation. In 2010, 57 traditional owners from Muckaty and surrounding areas signed a petition stating their opposition to the disposal site (the case is currently in the Federal Court). At a time when nuclear power has come back onto the radar as a possible solution to the energy crisis and climate change, questions concerning the investments of government and its loyalties should be asked. As Malcolm Knox has written “the nuclear industry has become evangelical about the dangers of global warming” (Knox). While nuclear is a “cleaner” energy than coal, until better methods are designed for processing its waste, larger amounts of it will be produced, requiring lands that can hold it for the desired timeframes. For Australia, this demands attention to the politics and ethics of waste disposal. Such an issue is already being played out, before nuclear has even been signed off as a solution to climate change, with the need to find a disposal site to accommodate already existing uranium exported to Europe and destined to return as waste to Australia in 2014. The decision to go ahead with Muckaty against the wishes of the voices of local Indigenous people may open the way for the co-opting of a discourse of environmentalism by political and business groups to promote the development and expansion of nuclear power as an alternative to coal and oil for energy production; dumping waste on Indigenous lands becomes part of the solution to climate change. During the 2010 Australian election, Greens Leader Bob Brown played upon the word coalition to suggest that the Liberal National Party were in COALition with the mining industry over the proposed Mining Tax – the Liberal Coalition opposed any mining tax (Brown). Here Brown highlights the alliance of political agendas and business or corporate interests quite succinctly. Like Brown’s COALition, will government (of either major party) form a coalition with the nuclear power stakeholders?This paper has attempted to bring to light what Dodson has identified as “an alliance of established conservative forces...with more recent and strident ideological thinking associated with free market economics and notions of individual responsibility” and the implications of this alliance for land rights (Dodson). It is important to ask critical questions about the vision of “growing together” being promoted via the coalition of conservative, neoliberal, private and government interests.Acknowledgements Many thanks to the reviewers of this article for their useful suggestions. ReferencesAustralian Broadcasting Authority. “Noel Pearson Discusses the Issues Faced by Indigenous Communities.” Lateline 26 June 2007. 22 Nov. 2010 ‹http://www.abc.net.au/lateline/content/2007/s1962844.htm>. Agamben, Giorgio. Homo Sacer. Stanford, California: Stanford University Press, 1998. Altman, Jon. “The ‘National Emergency’ and Land Rights Reform: Separating Fact from Fiction.” A Briefing Paper for Oxfam Australia, 2007. 1 Aug. 2010 ‹http://www.oxfam.org.au/resources/filestore/originals/OAus-EmergencyLandRights-0807.pdf>. Altman, Jon. “The Howard Government’s Northern Territory Intervention: Are Neo-Paternalism and Indigenous Development Compatible?” Centre for Aboriginal Economic Policy Research Topical Issue 16 (2007). 1 Aug. 2010 ‹http://caepr.anu.edu.au/system/files/Publications/topical/Altman_AIATSIS.pdf>. Brown, Bob. “Senator Bob Brown National Pre-Election Press Club Address.” 2010. 18 Aug. 2010 ‹http://greens.org.au/content/senator-bob-brown-pre-election-national-press-club-address>. Davis, Angela. The Angela Davis Reader. Ed. J. James, Oxford: Blackwell, 1998. Dodson, Patrick. “An Entire Culture Is at Stake.” Opinion. The Age, 14 July 2007: 4. Goldberg, David Theo. The Racial State. Massachusetts: Blackwell, 2002.———. The Threat of Race: Reflections on Neoliberalism. Massachusetts: Blackwell, 2008. Harris, Cheryl. “Whiteness as Property.” Harvard Law Review 106.8 (1993): 1709-1795. Keane, John. “Maralinga’s Afterlife.” Feature Article. The Age, 11 May 2003. 24 Nov. 2010 ‹http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2003/05/11/1052280486255.html>. Knox, Malcolm. “Nuclear Dawn.” The Monthly 56 (May 2010). Lambert, Anthony. “Rainbow Blindness: Same-Sex Partnerships in Post-Coalitional Australia.” M/C Journal 13.6 (2010). Langton, Marcia. “It’s Time to Stop Playing Politics with Vulnerable Lives.” Opinion. Sydney Morning Herald, 30 Nov. 2007: 2. McAllan, Fiona. “Customary Appropriations.” borderlands ejournal 6.3 (2007). 22 Nov. 2010 ‹http://www.borderlands.net.au/vol6no3_2007/mcallan_appropriations.htm>. Moreton-Robinson, Aileen. “The Possessive Logic of Patriarchal White Sovereignty: The High Court and the Yorta Yorta Decision.” borderlands e-journal 3.2 (2004). 1 Aug. 2007 ‹http://www.borderlands.net.au/vol3no2_2004/moreton_possessive.htm>. ———. “Whiteness, Epistemology and Indigenous Representation.” Whitening Race. Ed. Aileen Moreton-Robinson. Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press, 75-89. Norberry, J., and J. Gardiner-Garden. Aboriginal Land Rights (Northern Territory) Amendment Bill 2006. Australian Parliamentary Library Bills Digest 158 (19 June 2006). Ong, Aihwa. Neoliberalism as Exception: Mutations in Citizenship and Sovereignty. Durham: Duke University Press, 2006. 75-97.Oxford English Dictionary. 3rd. ed. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2005. Rio Tinto. "Rio Tinto Aboriginal Policy and Programme Briefing Note." June 2007. 22 Nov. 2010 ‹http://www.aboriginalfund.riotinto.com/common/pdf/Aboriginal%20Policy%20and%20Programs%20-%20June%202007.pdf>. Roberts, David J., and Mielle Mahtami. “Neoliberalising Race, Racing Neoliberalism: Placing 'Race' in Neoliberal Discourses.” Antipode 42.2 (2010): 248-257. Stringer, Rebecca. “A Nightmare of the Neocolonial Kind: Politics of Suffering in Howard's Northern Territory Intervention.” borderlands ejournal 6.2 (2007). 22 Nov. 2010 ‹http://www.borderlands.net.au/vol6no2_2007/stringer_intervention.htm>.Stokes, Dianne. "Muckaty." n.d. 1 Aug. 2010 ‹http://www.timbonham.com/slideshows/Muckaty/>. Terrill, Leon. “Indigenous Land Reform: What Is the Real Aim of Land Reform?” Edited version of a presentation provided at the 2010 National Native Title Conference, 2010. Watson, Irene. “Sovereign Spaces, Caring for Country and the Homeless Position of Aboriginal Peoples.” South Atlantic Quarterly 108.1 (2009): 27-51. Watson, Nicole. “Howard’s End: The Real Agenda behind the Proposed Review of Indigenous Land Titles.” Australian Indigenous Law Reporter 9.4 (2005). ‹http://www.austlii.edu.au/au/journals/AILR/2005/64.html>.Wild, R., and P. Anderson. Ampe Akelyernemane Meke Mekarie: The Little Children Are Sacred. Report of the Northern Territory Board of Inquiry into the Protection of Aboriginal Children from Sexual Abuse. Northern Territory: Northern Territory Government, 2007.

PurposeThis study examines the effectiveness of passive value capture mechanisms as an effective form of mechanisms in funding infrastructure from an Australian perspective. The lukewarm response of active value capture mechanisms such as betterment levies in Australia is also discussed.Design/methodology/approachA case study of the Sydney Metro City and Southwest (SMCSW) project in Sydney is used to illustrate passive value capture mechanisms.FindingsUnlike many developed countries, passive value capture mechanisms have been adopted in Australia. This approach is an effective form of value capture mechanisms to capture the value uplift to offset the total development cost of the SMCSW project. However, this approach is highly sensitive to property transaction activities that could be affected by the general economic conditions and unprecedented events such as the COVID-19 pandemic. Further, there is a widespread discussion of the efficiency of land tax in New South Wales (NSW) in capturing all properties subject to the value uplift. Consequently, a shift towards a broad-based land tax is recommended in which it would provide a more efficient way of infrastructure funding.Practical implicationsPolicymakers should consider a broad-based land tax for residential and commercial properties in order to improve the efficiency of passive value capture mechanisms. This also highlights property valuers should play a greater role in the development of broad-based land tax system.Originality/valuePrevious studies have extensively demonstrated property value impacts of transit investments; very little research assesses the growth of value capture funding mechanisms, particularly passive value capture mechanisms. Specifically, this paper is the first paper to assess the effectiveness of passive value capture mechanisms.

This essay, the fourth and last of a series published by the<em> Journal of Social Change</em>, is intended as a tool for community organizers, local policy makers, researchers, students and others to incorporate subjective well-being indicators into their measurements and management of happiness and well-being in their communities, for policy purposes, for research and for other purposes. It provides case studies of community-based efforts in five different regions (São Paulo, Brazil; Bristol, United Kingdom; Melbourne, Australia; Creston, British Columbia, Canada; and Vermont, United States) that either developed their own subjective well-being index or used the Happiness Alliance’s survey instrument to measure happiness and well-being. The essay offers lessons to consider when using subjective well-being indicator survey instruments. Finally, the essay provides a process for measuring happiness using the Happiness Alliance’s survey instrument.