Academic literature on the topic 'Monash University Thesis'

IntroductionHyperlipidaemia, hyperglycaemia and chronic inflammation are risk factors for chronic diseases cardiovascular disease and type 2 diabetes. Polyphenols are bioactive compounds found in marine algae with potential antihyperlipidaemic, antihyperglycaemic and anti-inflammatory effects. The modulation of these risk factors using bioactive polyphenols may represent a useful strategy for disease prevention and management; research in humans, however, remains limited. This trial aims to determine the impact of a polyphenol-rich brown seaweed extract on fasting hyperlipidaemia, hyperglycaemia and inflammation. Effects on mood and cognition will also be evaluated.Methods and analysisFifty-eight hypercholesterolaemic participants who are overweight or have obesity will be randomised to receive either a polyphenol-rich brown seaweed extract (2000 mg dose containing 600 mg polyphenols) or placebo (2000 mg rice flour) daily for 12 weeks. Fasting venous blood samples will be taken at baseline, week 6 and week 12 of the intervention to assess serum cholesterol (total, low-density lipoprotein and high-density lipoprotein) and triglyceride concentrations, plasma glucose and insulin concentrations and markers of inflammation. Mood and cognitive function will be evaluated as exploratory outcomes. Independent t-tests or equivalent will be used to determine differences between the two groups in changes from baseline to week 12. Analysis of variance will be used to assess differences between the groups across the three time points (baseline, week 6 and week 12).Ethics and disseminationEthics approval has been granted by the Monash University Human Research Ethics Committee (2017-8689-10379). Results from this trial will be disseminated through publication in peer-reviewed journals, national and international presentations, and a PhD thesis. These results are essential to inform the use of polyphenol-rich brown seaweeds as a functional food or nutritional supplement ingredients for health promotion and disease prevention and management in humans.Trial registration numberACTRN12617001039370; Pre-results.

By Stein Edith: Zum problem der Einfühlung, Niemeyer, Halle 1917, Reprint der OriginalausgabeKaffke, München 1980, trad. it. Il problema dell’empatia, trad. di E. Costantini e E. Schulze Costantini, Studium, Roma 1985. Beiträge zur philosophischen Begründ der Psychologie und Geisteswissen schaften: a) Psychische Kausalität; b)Individuum und Gemeinschaft, «Jahrbuch für Philosophie und phänomenologische Forschung», vol. 5, Halle 1922, pp. 1-283, riedito da Max Niemeyer, Tübingen 1970, trad. it. Psicologia e scienze dello spirito. Contributi per una fondazione filosofica, trad. di A. M. Pezzella, pref. di A. Ales Bello, Città Nuova, Roma 1996. Was ist Phänomenologie?, in Wissenschaft/Volksbildung, supplemento scientifico al «Neuen Pfälzischen Landes Zeitung», n. 5, 15 maggio 1924; è stato pubblicato nella rivista «Teologie und Philosophie», 66 (1991), pp. 570-573; trad. it. Che cosa è la fenomenologia? in La ricerca della verità – dalla fenomenologia alla filosofia cristiana, a cura di A. Ales Bello, Città Nuova, Roma 1993, pp. 55-60. Endliches und ewiges Sein. VersucheinesAufstiegszum Sinn des Sein (ESW II), hrsg. von L. Gelber und R. Leuven, Nauwelaerts-Herder, Louvain-Freiburg 1950, trad. it. Essere finito e essere eterno. Per una elevazione al senso dell’essere, trad. it. di L. Vigone, rev. di A. Ales Bello, Città Nuova, Roma 1988. Welt und Person. BeträgezumchristlichenWahrheitstreben (ESW VI), hrsg. von L. Gelber und R. Leuven, Newelaerts – Herder, Louvain – Freiburg 1962, trad. it. Natura, persona, mistica. Per una ricerca cristiana della verità, trad. it. di T. Franzoni, M. D’Ambra e A. M. Pezzella, a cura di A. Ales Bello, Città Nuova, Roma 1999. AusdemLebeneinerjüdischenFamilie (ESW VII), Herder, Freiburg i. Br. 1987, trad. it. Storia di una famiglia ebrea. Lineamenti autobiografici: l’infanzia e gli anni giovanili, Città Nuova, Roma 1992. Einführung in die Philosophie (ESW XIII), hrsg. von L. Gelber und M. Linssen, Herder, Freiburg i. Br. 1991, trad. it. Introduzione alla filosofia di A. M. Pezzela, pref. di A. Ales Bello, Città Nuova, Roma 1998. Briefean Roman Ingarden 1917-1938 (ESW XIV), Einleitung von H. B. Gerl-Falkovitz, Anmerkungen von M. A. Neyer, hrsg. von L. Gelber und M. Linssen, Herder, Freiburg i. Br. 1991, trad. it. Lettere a Roman Ingarden, trad. it. di E. Costantini e E. Schulze Costantini, Libreria Editrice Vaticana, Città del Vaticano 2001. Potenz und Akt. StudienzueinerPhilosophie des Seins (ESW XVIII), bearbeitet und miteinerEinfürungversehen von H. R. Sepp, hrsg. von L. Gelber und M. Linssen, Herder, Freiburg i. Br. 1998, trad. it. Potenza e atto. Studi per una filosofia dell’essere, trad. di A. Caputo, pref. di A. Ales Bello, Città Nuova, Roma 2003. By others on Edith Stein and Empathy: Albiero, Paolo and Matricardi Giada, Che cos’è l’empatia, Carocci, Roma, 2006. Ales Bello, Angela, Empathy, a return to reason, in The self and the other. The irreducibile element in a man. Part I, ed. by A. T. Tymieniecka, Dordrecht-Boston, Reidel Publishing Company, in «Analecta Husserliana», 6 (1977), pp. 143-149. – Edith Stein: da Edmund Husserl a Tommaso D’Aquino. In Memorie Domenicane, n. 7, n.s., 1976. – Edmund Husserl e Edith Stein. La questione del metodo fenomenologico, in «Acta Philosophica», 1 (1992), pp. 167-175. – Fenomenologia dell’essere umano – Lineamenti di una filosofia al femminile, Città Nuova, Roma 1992. – Analisi fenomenologica della volontà. Edmund Husserl ed Edith Stein, in «Per la filosofia», 1994, n. 31, pp. 24-29. – Lo studio dell’anima fra psicologia e fenomenologia in Edith Stein, in Sogno e mondo, Edizioni Scientifiche Italiane, Napoli 1995, pp. 7-25. – Edith Stein. Invito alla lettura, Edizioni San Paolo, Milano 1999. – Edith Stein, Piemme, Casale Monferrato 2000. – Empatia e dialogo: un’analisi fenomenologica, in A. DENTONE (a cura di), Dialogo, silenzio, empatia, Bastoni Editrice Italiana, Foggia 2000, pp. 65-85. – L’universo nella coscienza. Introduzione alla fenomenologia di Edmund Husserl, Edith Stein, Hedwig Conrad-Martius, Edizioni ETS, Pisa 2003. – Persona e Stato in Edith Stein in D’Ambra, Michele(a cura di), Edith Stein. Una vita per la verità, «Quaderni dell’AIES», n. 1, Edizioni OCD, Roma 2005. – Edith Stein: lo spirito umano in cammino verso la santità in D’Ambra, Michele(a cura di), Edith Stein.Lo Spirito e la santità, «Quaderni dell’AIES», n. 2, Edizioni OCD, Roma 2007. Alfossi, Maura. et al., Guarire o curare? Comunicazione ed empatia in medicina, La Meridiana, Molfetta (BA), 2008. Balzer, Carmen, The Empathy Problem in Edith Stein, in Huusserlian Phenomenology in a New Key. Intersubjectivity, Ethos, the Social Sphere, Human Encouter, Pathos, ed. by A. T. Tymieniecka, Kluwe Academic Publisher, Dordrecht-Boston-London, in «AnalectaHusserliana», 35 (1991), pp. 271-278. Baron-Cohen, Simon., La scienza del male. L’empatia e le origini della crudeltà, Cortina, Milano, 2012. Bellingreri, Antonio, Per una pedagogia dell’empatia, Vita e Pensiero, Milano, 2005. Bettinelli, Carla,Il pensiero di Edith Stein. Dalla fenomenologia alla scienza della Croce, Vita e Pensiero, Milano 1976. – Il problema dell’Einfülung, in «Hermeneutica», 9 (1989), pp. 291-304. – La fenomenologia, uno sguardo sulla verità, in «Aquinas», 37 (1994), pp. 377-386. – L’itinerario di Edith Stein: dalla psicologia alla metafisica, alla mistica, in «Letture», 32 (1997), pp. 505-524. Boella, Laura and Buttarelli Annarosa,Per amore di altro. L’empatia a partire da Edith Stein, Raffaello Cortina Editore, Milano 2000. – Grammatica del sentire. Compassione, Simpatia, Empatia, CUEN, Milano, 2004. Bonino, Silvia, et al. (a cura di), Empatia. I processi di condivisione delle emozioni, Giunti, Firenze, 1998. Bronzino, Cristina, Sentire insieme. Le forme dell’empatia, ArchetipoLibri, Bologna, 2010. Challita, Marie, The empathic brain as the neural basis of moral behaviour Presented from interdisciplinary perspectives, Dissertatio ad Doctoratum in Facultate Bioethicæ Pontificii Athenæi Regina Apostolorum, Rome 2014. Cerri Musso, Renza,La pedagogia dell’Einfühlung. Saggio su Edith Stein, La Scuola, Brescia, 1955. Costantini, Elio,Einfühlung und Intersubjektivitätbei Edith Stein und bei Husserl, in The Great Chain of Being and Italian Phenomenology, in «AnalectaHusserliana»,, 11 (1981), pp. 335-339. – Edith Stein. Profilo di una vita vissuta alla ricerca della verità, Libreria Editrice Vaticana, Città del Vaticano 1987. – Note sull’empatia nell’approccio interpersonale, in «Aquinas», 30 (1987), pp. 135-140. – L’empatia, conoscenza dell’”Io” estraneo, in «Studium», 86 (1990), pp. 73-91. D’Ambra, Michele,Il mistero e la persona nell’opera di Edith Stein, in «Aquinas», 34 (1997), pp. 581-591. D’Ippolito, Maria Bianca,L’analisi fenomenologica dell’anima, in«Aquinas», 41 (1997), pp. 61-67. De Waal Frans., L’età dell’empatia. Lezioni della natura per una società più solidale, Garzanti, Milano, 2011. Di Muzio, Luigi Carlo,I giorni della verità. La vicenda di Edith Stein, La sorgente, Vicenza, 1974. Epis, Massimo,Io, anima, persona nella fenomenologia di Edith Stein, in «Teologia», 27 (2000), pp. 52-70. – Fenomenologia della soggettività, LED, Milano 2003. Fidalgo, Antonio,Edith Stein, Theodor Lipps und die Einfühlungsproblematik, in R. L. FETZ - M. RATH – P. SHULZ(hrsgg.), Studien zur Philosophie von Edith Stein – Internationales Edith-Stein-Symposion Eichstätt 1991, in «Phänomenologische Forschungen», 26/27, 1993, pp. 90-106. Fortuna Federico, Tiberio Antonio, Il mondo dell’empatia. Campi di applicazioni, Franco Angeli, Milano, 20012. Freedberg David and Gallese Vittorio, Movimento, emozione ed empatia nell’esperienza estetica. In Teorie dell’immagine. Il dibattito contemporaneo, a cura di Pinotti, Andrea and Somaini Antonio Cortina, Milano, 2009. Galeazzi, Umberto., La lezione di Husserl nell’itinerario di ricerca di Edith Stein, in «Hermeneutica», 1989, n. 9, pp. 363-384. Galofaro, Joseph,La tesi di laurea sull’empatia, in «Rivista di Vita Spirituale», 41 (1987), pp. 255-261. Gamarra, Daniel, Edith Stein: il problema dell’empatia, in «Divus Thomas», 91 (1988), pp. 181-189. Geiger, Mattis, Sul problema dell’empatia di stati d’animo, in Besoli, Stefano and Guidetti, Luca, (a cura di) Il realismo fenomenologico. Sulla filosofia dei circoli Monaco e Gottinga, Quodlibet, Macerata 2000. – Essenza e significato dell’empatia, in Pinotti, Andrea (a cura di) Estetica ed Empatia. Antologia, Guerini e associati, Milano. 1997. Ghigi, Nicoletta, L’orizzonte del sentire in Edith Stein, Nimesis, Milano-Udine, 2011. Giusti, Edoardo and Locatelli, Maura, L’empatia integrata. Analisi Umanistica del comportamento motivazionale nella clinica e nella formazione, Sovera, Roma 2000. Giordano, Maria, Ripensare il processo empatico, Franco Angeli, Milano, 2004. Herbstrith, Waltraud,Edith Stein: una donna per il nostro secolo, Vita e Pensiero, Milano 1971. Hoffman, Martin,Empatia e sviluppo morale, Il Mulino, Bologna, 2008. Hughes, John,Edith Stein’s Doctoral Thesis on Empathy and the Philosophical Climate from which emerged, in «Theresianum», 36 (1985), pp. 455-484. Kohut, Heinz,Introspezione ed empatia: raccolta di scritti (1959-1981) (a cura di) A. CARUSI, Boringhieri, Torino, 2003. Körner,Reinhard,L’ Empatia nel senso di Edith Stein. Un atto fondamentale della persona nel processo cristiano della fede, in SLEIMAN J. – L.BORRIELLO (edd.), Edith Stein. Testimone di oggi profeta per domani, atti del Simposio Internazionale, Teresianum (Roma) 7-9/10/1998, Libreria Editrice Vaticana, Città del Vaticano 1999, pp. 159-180. Lavigne,Jean François,Da Husserl a Tommaso D’Aquino: la nozione di anima in Edith Stein in BUCARELLI M. – D’Ambra, Michele (a cura di), Fenomenologia e personalismo, Edizioni Nuova Cultura, Roma 2008. Lombardo, Gaetano, Edith Stein, il problema della coscienza tra empatia e interiorità, tesi di Laurea (July 7, 2009), Università degli studi di Messina, Italy. Manganaro, Patrizia, L’Einfühlung nell’analisi fenomenologica di Edith Stein, in «Aquinas», 43 (2000), pp. 101-121. – Empatia, Messaggero di S. Antonio Editrice, Padova 2014. Pancaldo, Diego,L’amore come dono di sé. Antropologia filosofica e spiritualità in Edith Stein, Pontificia Università Lateranense, Roma 2003. Paolinelli, Marco,Antropologia e “metafisica cristiana” in Edith Stein, in «Rivista di Filosofia Neoscolastica», 93 (2001), pp. 580-615. – Natura, spirito, individualità in Edith Stein, in D’Ambra, Michele (a cura di), E. Stein. Lo Spirito e la santità, «Quaderni dell’AIES», n. 2, a cura di Miche le D’ambra, Edizioni OCD, Roma 2007. Pezzella, Anna Maria, Edith Stein fenomenologa, in «Aquinas», 37 (1994), pp. 359-365. – Edith Stein e la questione antropologica, in «Per la filosofia», 17 (2000), n. 49, pp. 39-45. – L’antropologia filosofica di Edith Stein – indagine fenomenologica della persona umana, Città Nuova, Roma 2003. Pinotti, Andrea, (a cura di) Estetica ed Empatia. Antologia, Guerini e associati, Milano. 1997. – Storia di un’idea da Platone al postumano, Laterza, Roma-Bari, 2011. Rainone, Antonella, La riscoperta dell’empatia. Attribuzioni intenzionali e comprensione della filosofia analitica. Bibliopis, Napoli, 2005. Rifkin,Jeremy, La Civiltà dell’empatia. La corsa verso la coscienza globale nel mondo in crisi. Mondadori, Milano, 2010. Scherini, Marisa,Le determinazioni del finito in Edith Stein. La natura, il vivente, l’uomo, Edizioni OCD, Roma 2008. Schulz, Peter,Il concetto di coscienza nella fenomenologia di E. Husserl e E. Stein, in «Aquinas», 39 (1996), pp. 291-305. Secretan,Philibert,Il problema della persona in Edith Stein, in MELCHIORRE V. (a cura di), L’idea di persona, Vita e Pensiero, Milano 1996, pp. 325-341. Sinagra, Rosa, Empatia: la chiave di Edith Stein. Soggetto femminile in bioetica, Falco editore, Cosenza, 2006. StuberKarsten, L’empatia, Il Mulino, Bologna, 2010. Tommasi, Francesco Valerio,Lo sviluppo del dibattito fenomenologico: idealismo e realismo nel pensiero di Edith Stein, in«Aquinas», 45 (2002), pp. 171-186. Trentini, Cristina, Rispecchiamenti. L’amore materno e le basi neurobiologiche dell’empatia, Il Pensiero Scientifico Editore, Roma, 2008. Trevarthen, Colwyn, Empatia e biologia. Psicologia, Cultura e Neuroscienze, Cortina, Milano, 1998. Vanni Rovighi, Sofia,La figura e l’opera di Edith Stein, in «Studium», 60 (1954), pp. 554-568. Vigone, Luciana,Introduzione al pensiero filosofico di Edith Stein, Città Nuova, Roma 19912. Worringer, Wilhelm, Astrazione e Empatia. Un contributo alla psicologia dello stile, nuova edizione (a cura di) Pinotti, Andrea, Einaudi, Torino, 2008..

This paper was generated as an experimental collaborative writing exercise as part of the development of conceptual, theoretical and methodological resources of the Space, Place, Body Faculty of Education Research Group at Monash University. A group of higher degree research students undertook an exercise in body/place writing by going on a walk in the nearby Morwell National Park and producing a piece of writing in response to that experience. The responses became the data for the collaborative writing of a paper which followed the standard format of a thesis. Key theoretical influences included the writings of Elizabeth Grosz, Bronwyn Davies and Margaret Somerville. The process was found to generate a wide range of embodied walking stories. Analysis of the written reflections highlighted individually complex and different responses to place and ways of experiencing place. Through the collaborative process, intersections of meanings and new learnings about the ways in which we interact with place were facilitated.

Refereed publications (also known as peer-reviewed) are the currency of academia, yet many PhD theses in Australia result in only one or two such papers. Typically, a doctoral thesis requires the candidate to present (and pass) a public Confirmation Seminar, around nine to twelve months into candidacy, in which a panel of the candidate’s supervisors and invited experts adjudicate upon whether the work is likely to continue and ultimately succeed in the goal of a coherent and original contribution to knowledge. A Final Seminar, also public and sometimes involving the traditional viva voce or oral defence of the thesis, is presented two or three months before approval is given to send the 80,000 to 100,000 word tome off for external examination. And that soul-destroying or elation-releasing examiner’s verdict can be many months in the delivery: a limbo-like period during which the candidate’s status as a student is ended and her or his receipt of any scholarship or funding guerdon is terminated with perfunctory speed. This is the only time most students spend seriously writing up their research for publication although, naturally, many are more involved in job hunting as they pin their hopes on passing the thesis examination.There is, however, a slightly more palatable alternative to this nail-biting process of the traditional PhD, and that is the PhD by Published Papers (also known as PhD by Publications or PhD by Published Works). The form of my own soon-to-be-submitted thesis, it permits the submission for examination of a collection of papers that have been refereed and accepted (or are in the process of being refereed) for publication in academic journals or books. Apart from the obvious benefits in getting published early in one’s (hopefully) burgeoning academic career, it also takes away a lot of the stress come final submission time. After all, I try to assure myself, the thesis examiners can’t really discredit the process of double-blind, peer-review the bulk of the thesis has already undergone: their job is to examine how well I’ve unified the papers into a cohesive thesis … right? But perhaps they should at least be wary, because, unfortunately, the requirements for this kind of PhD vary considerably from institution to institution and there have been some cases where the submitted work is of questionable quality compared to that produced by graduates from more demanding universities. Hence, this paper argues that in my subject area of interest—film and television studies—there is a huge range in the set requirements for doctorates, from universities that award the degree to film artists for prior published work that has undergone little or no academic scrutiny and has involved little or no on-campus participation to at least three Australian universities that require candidates be enrolled for a minimum period of full-time study and only submit scholarly work generated and published (or submitted for publication) during candidature. I would also suggest that uncertainty about where a graduate’s work rests on this continuum risks confusing a hard-won PhD by Published Papers with the sometimes risible honorary doctorate. Let’s begin by dredging the depths of those murky, quasi-academic waters to examine the occasionally less-than-salubrious honorary doctorate. The conferring of this degree is generally a recognition of an individual’s body of (usually published) work but is often conferred for contributions to knowledge or society in general that are not even remotely academic. The honorary doctorate does not usually carry with it the right to use the title “Dr” (although many self-aggrandising recipients in the non-academic world flout this unwritten code of conduct, and, indeed, Monash University’s Monash Magazine had no hesitation in describing its 2008 recipient, musician, screenwriter, and art-school-dropout Nick Cave, as “Dr Cave” (O’Loughlin)). Some shady universities even offer such degrees for sale or ‘donation’ and thus do great damage to that institution’s credibility as well as to the credibility of the degree itself. Such overseas “diploma mills”—including Ashwood University, Belford University, Glendale University and Suffield University—are identified by their advertising of “Life Experience Degrees,” for which a curriculum vitae outlining the prospective graduand’s oeuvre is accepted on face value as long as their credit cards are not rejected. An aspiring screen auteur simply specifies film and television as their major and before you can shout “Cut!” there’s a degree in the mail. Most of these pseudo-universities are not based in Australia but are perfectly happy to confer their ‘titles’ to any well-heeled, vanity-driven Australians capable of completing the online form. Nevertheless, many academics fear a similarly disreputable marketplace might develop here, and Norfolk Island-based Greenwich University presents a particularly illuminating example. Previously empowered by an Act of Parliament consented to by Senator Ian Macdonald, the then Minister for Territories, this “university” had the legal right to confer honorary degrees from 1998. The Act was eventually overridden by legislation passed in 2002, after a concerted effort by the Australian Universities Quality Agency Ltd. and the Australian Vice-Chancellors’ Committee to force the accreditation requirements of the Australian Qualifications Framework upon the institution in question, thus preventing it from making degrees available for purchase over the Internet. Greenwich University did not seek re-approval and soon relocated to its original home of Hawaii (Brown). But even real universities flounder in similarly muddy waters when, unsolicited, they make dubious decisions to grant degrees to individuals they hold in high esteem. Although meaning well by not courting pecuniary gain, they nevertheless invite criticism over their choice of recipient for their honoris causa, despite the decision usually only being reached after a process of debate and discussion by university committees. Often people are rewarded, it seems, as much for their fame as for their achievements or publications. One such example of a celebrity who has had his onscreen renown recognised by an honorary doctorate is film and television actor/comedian Billy Connolly who was awarded an Honorary Doctor of Letters by The University of Glasgow in 2006, prompting Stuart Jeffries to complain that “something has gone terribly wrong in British academia” (Jeffries). Eileen McNamara also bemoans the levels to which some institutions will sink to in search of media attention and exposure, when she writes of St Andrews University in Scotland conferring an honorary doctorate to film actor and producer, Michael Douglas: “What was designed to acknowledge intellectual achievement has devolved into a publicity grab with universities competing for celebrity honorees” (McNamara). Fame as an actor (and the list gets even weirder when the scope of enquiry is widened beyond the field of film and television), seems to be an achievement worth recognising with an honorary doctorate, according to some universities, and this kind of discredit is best avoided by Australian institutions of higher learning if they are to maintain credibility. Certainly, universities down under would do well to follow elsewhere than in the footprints of Long Island University’s Southampton College. Perhaps the height of academic prostitution of parchments for the attention of mass media occurred when in 1996 this US school bestowed an Honorary Doctorate of Amphibious Letters upon that mop-like puppet of film and television fame known as the “muppet,” Kermit the Frog. Indeed, this polystyrene and cloth creation with an anonymous hand operating its mouth had its acceptance speech duly published (see “Kermit’s Acceptance Speech”) and the Long Island University’s Southampton College received much valuable press. After all, any publicity is good publicity. Or perhaps this furry frog’s honorary degree was a cynical stunt meant to highlight the ridiculousness of the practice? In 1986 a similar example, much closer to my own home, occurred when in anticipation and condemnation of the conferral of an honorary doctorate upon Prince Philip by Monash University in Melbourne, the “Members of the Monash Association of Students had earlier given a 21-month-old Chihuahua an honorary science degree” (Jeffries), effectively suggesting that the honorary doctorate is, in fact, a dog of a degree. On a more serious note, there have been honorary doctorates conferred upon far more worthy recipients in the field of film and television by some Australian universities. Indigenous film-maker Tracey Moffatt was awarded an honorary doctorate by Griffith University in November of 2004. Moffatt was a graduate of the Griffith University’s film school and had an excellent body of work including the films Night Cries: A Rural Tragedy (1990) and beDevil (1993). Acclaimed playwright and screenwriter David Williamson was presented with an Honorary Doctorate of Letters by The University of Queensland in December of 2004. His work had previously picked up four Australian Film Institute awards for best screenplay. An Honorary Doctorate of Visual and Performing Arts was given to film director Fred Schepisi AO by The University of Melbourne in May of 2006. His films had also been earlier recognised with Australian Film Institute awards as well as the Golden Globe Best Miniseries or Television Movie award for Empire Falls in 2006. Director George Miller was crowned with an Honorary Doctorate in Film from the Australian Film, Television, and Radio School in April 2007, although he already had a medical doctor’s testamur on his wall. In May of this year, filmmaker George Gittoes, a fine arts dropout from The University of Sydney, received an honorary doctorate by The University of New South Wales. His documentaries, Soundtrack to War (2005) and Rampage (2006), screened at the Sydney and Berlin film festivals, and he has been employed by the Australian Government as an official war artist. Interestingly, the high quality screen work recognised by these Australian universities may have earned the recipients ‘real’ PhDs had they sought the qualification. Many of these film artists could have just as easily submitted their work for the degree of PhD by Published Papers at several universities that accept prior work in lieu of an original exegesis, and where a film is equated with a book or journal article. But such universities still invite comparisons of their PhDs by Published Papers with honorary doctorates due to rather too-easy-to-meet criteria. The privately funded Bond University, for example, recommends a minimum full-time enrolment of just three months and certainly seems more lax in its regulations than other Antipodean institution: a healthy curriculum vitae and payment of the prescribed fee (currently AUD$24,500 per annum) are the only requirements. Restricting my enquiries once again to the field of my own research, film and television, I note that Dr. Ingo Petzke achieved his 2004 PhD by Published Works based upon films produced in Germany well before enrolling at Bond, contextualized within a discussion of the history of avant-garde film-making in that country. Might not a cynic enquire as to how this PhD significantly differs from an honorary doctorate? Although Petzke undoubtedly paid his fees and met all of Bond’s requirements for his thesis entitled Slow Motion: Thirty Years in Film, one cannot criticise that cynic for wondering if Petzke’s films are indeed equivalent to a collection of refereed papers. It should be noted that Bond is not alone when it comes to awarding candidates the PhD by Published Papers for work published or screened in the distant past. Although yet to grant it in the area of film or television, Swinburne University of Technology (SUT) is an institution that distinctly specifies its PhD by Publications is to be awarded for “research which has been carried out prior to admission to candidature” (8). Similarly, the Griffith Law School states: “The PhD (by publications) is awarded to established researchers who have an international reputation based on already published works” (1). It appears that Bond is no solitary voice in the academic wilderness, for SUT and the Griffith Law School also apparently consider the usual milestones of Confirmation and Final Seminars to be unnecessary if the so-called candidate is already well published. Like Bond, Griffith University (GU) is prepared to consider a collection of films to be equivalent to a number of refereed papers. Dr Ian Lang’s 2002 PhD (by Publication) thesis entitled Conditional Truths: Remapping Paths To Documentary ‘Independence’ contains not refereed, scholarly articles but the following videos: Wheels Across the Himalaya (1981); Yallambee, People of Hope (1986); This Is What I Call Living (1988); The Art of Place: Hanoi Brisbane Art Exchange (1995); and Millennium Shift: The Search for New World Art (1997). While this is a most impressive body of work, and is well unified by appropriate discussion within the thesis, the cynic who raised eyebrows at Petzke’s thesis might also be questioning this thesis: Dr Lang’s videos all preceded enrolment at GU and none have been refereed or acknowledged with major prizes. Certainly, the act of releasing a film for distribution has much in common with book publishing, but should these videos be considered to be on a par with academic papers published in, say, the prestigious and demanding journal Screen? While recognition at awards ceremonies might arguably correlate with peer review there is still the question as to how scholarly a film actually is. Of course, documentary films such as those in Lang’s thesis can be shown to be addressing gaps in the literature, as is the expectation of any research paper, but the onus remains on the author/film-maker to demonstrate this via a detailed contextual review and a well-written, erudite argument that unifies the works into a cohesive thesis. This Lang has done, to the extent that suspicious cynic might wonder why he chose not to present his work for a standard PhD award. Another issue unaddressed by most institutions is the possibility that the publications have been self-refereed or refereed by the candidate’s editorial colleagues in a case wherein the papers appear in a book the candidate has edited or co-edited. Dr Gillian Swanson’s 2004 GU thesis Towards a Cultural History of Private Life: Sexual Character, Consuming Practices and Cultural Knowledge, which addresses amongst many other cultural artefacts the film Lawrence of Arabia (David Lean 1962), has nine publications: five of which come from two books she co-edited, Nationalising Femininity: Culture, Sexuality and Cinema in Britain in World War Two, (Gledhill and Swanson 1996) and Deciphering Culture: Ordinary Curiosities and Subjective Narratives (Crisp et al 2000). While few would dispute the quality of Swanson’s work, the persistent cynic might wonder if these five papers really qualify as refereed publications. The tacit understanding of a refereed publication is that it is blind reviewed i.e. the contributor’s name is removed from the document. Such a system is used to prevent bias and favouritism but this level of anonymity might be absent when the contributor to a book is also one of the book’s editors. Of course, Dr Swanson probably took great care to distance herself from the refereeing process undertaken by her co-editors, but without an inbuilt check, allegations of cronyism from unfriendly cynics may well result. A related factor in making comparisons of different university’s PhDs by Published Papers is the requirements different universities have about the standard of the journal the paper is published in. It used to be a simple matter in Australia: the government’s Department of Education, Science and Training (DEST) held a Register of Refereed Journals. If your benefactor in disseminating your work was on the list, your publications were of near-unquestionable quality. Not any more: DEST will no longer accept nominations for listing on the Register and will not undertake to rule on whether a particular journal article meets the HERDC [Higher Education Research Data Collection] requirements for inclusion in publication counts. HEPs [Higher Education Providers] have always had the discretion to determine if a publication produced in a journal meets the requirements for inclusion in the HERDC regardless of whether or not the journal was included on the Register of Refereed Journals. As stated in the HERDC specifications, the Register is not an exhaustive list of all journals which satisfy the peer-review requirements (DEST). The last listing for the DEST Register of Refereed Journals was the 3rd of February 2006, making way for a new tiered list of academic journals, which is currently under review in the Australian tertiary education sector (see discussion of this development in the Redden and Mitchell articles in this issue). In the interim, some university faculties created their own rankings of journals, but not the Faculty of Creative Industries at the Queensland University of Technology (QUT) where I am studying for my PhD by Published Papers. Although QUT does not have a list of ranked journals for a candidate to submit papers to, it is otherwise quite strict in its requirements. The QUT University Regulations state, “Papers submitted as a PhD thesis must be closely related in terms of subject matter and form a cohesive research narrative” (QUT PhD regulation 14.1.2). Thus there is the requirement at QUT that apart from the usual introduction, methodology and literature review, an argument must be made as to how the papers present a sustained research project via “an overarching discussion of the main features linking the publications” (14.2.12). It is also therein stated that it should be an “account of research progress linking the research papers” (4.2.6). In other words, a unifying essay must make an argument for consideration of the sometimes diversely published papers as a cohesive body of work, undertaken in a deliberate journey of research. In my own case, an aural auteur analysis of sound in the films of Rolf de Heer, I argue that my published papers (eight in total) represent a journey from genre analysis (one paper) to standard auteur analysis (three papers) to an argument that sound should be considered in auteur analysis (one paper) to the major innovation of the thesis, aural auteur analysis (three papers). It should also be noted that unlike Bond, GU or SUT, the QUT regulations for the standard PhD still apply: a Confirmation Seminar, Final Seminar and a minimum two years of full-time enrolment (with a minimum of three months residency in Brisbane) are all compulsory. Such milestones and sine qua non ensure the candidate’s academic progress and intellectual development such that she or he is able to confidently engage in meaningful quodlibets regarding the thesis’s topic. Another interesting and significant feature of the QUT guidelines for this type of degree is the edict that papers submitted must be “published, accepted or submitted during the period of candidature” (14.1.1). Similarly, the University of Canberra (UC) states “The articles or other published material must be prepared during the period of candidature” (10). Likewise, Edith Cowan University (ECU) will confer its PhD by Publications to those candidates whose thesis consists of “only papers published in refereed scholarly media during the period of enrolment” (2). In other words, one cannot simply front up to ECU, QUT, or UC with a résumé of articles or films published over a lifetime of writing or film-making and ask for a PhD by Published Papers. Publications of the candidate prepared prior to commencement of candidature are simply not acceptable at these institutions and such PhDs by Published Papers from QUT, UC and ECU are entirely different to those offered by Bond, GU and SUT. Furthermore, without a requirement for a substantial period of enrolment and residency, recipients of PhDs by Published Papers from Bond, GU, or SUT are unlikely to have participated significantly in the research environment of their relevant faculty and peers. Such newly minted doctors may be as unfamiliar with the campus and its research activities as the recipient of an honorary doctorate usually is, as he or she poses for the media’s cameras en route to the glamorous awards ceremony. Much of my argument in this paper is built upon the assumption that the process of refereeing a paper (or for that matter, a film) guarantees a high level of academic rigour, but I confess that this premise is patently naïve, if not actually flawed. Refereeing can result in the rejection of new ideas that conflict with the established opinions of the referees. Interdisciplinary collaboration can be impeded and the lack of referee’s accountability is a potential problem, too. It can also be no less nail-biting a process than the examination of a finished thesis, given that some journals take over a year to complete the refereeing process, and some journal’s editorial committees have recognised this shortcoming. Despite being a mainstay of its editorial approach since 1869, the prestigious science journal, Nature, which only publishes about 7% of its submissions, has led the way with regard to varying the procedure of refereeing, implementing in 2006 a four-month trial period of ‘Open Peer Review’. Their website states, Authors could choose to have their submissions posted on a preprint server for open comments, in parallel with the conventional peer review process. Anyone in the field could then post comments, provided they were prepared to identify themselves. Once the usual confidential peer review process is complete, the public ‘open peer review’ process was closed and the editors made their decision about publication with the help of all reports and comments (Campbell). Unfortunately, the experiment was unpopular with both authors and online peer reviewers. What the Nature experiment does demonstrate, however, is that the traditional process of blind refereeing is not yet perfected and can possibly evolve into something less problematic in the future. Until then, refereeing continues to be the best system there is for applying structured academic scrutiny to submitted papers. With the reforms of the higher education sector, including forced mergers of universities and colleges of advanced education and the re-introduction of university fees (carried out under the aegis of John Dawkins, Minister for Employment, Education and Training from 1987 to 1991), and the subsequent rationing of monies according to research dividends (calculated according to numbers of research degree conferrals and publications), there has been a veritable explosion in the number of institutions offering PhDs in Australia. But the general public may not always be capable of differentiating between legitimately accredited programs and diploma mills, given that the requirements for the first differ substantially. From relatively easily obtainable PhDs by Published Papers at Bond, GU and SUT to more rigorous requirements at ECU, QUT and UC, there is undoubtedly a huge range in the demands of degrees that recognise a candidate’s published body of work. The cynical reader may assume that with this paper I am simply trying to shore up my own forthcoming graduation with a PhD by Published papers from potential criticisms that it is on par with a ‘purchased’ doctorate. Perhaps they are right, for this is a new degree in QUT’s Creative Industries faculty and has only been awarded to one other candidate (Dr Marcus Foth for his 2006 thesis entitled Towards a Design Methodology to Support Social Networks of Residents in Inner-City Apartment Buildings). But I believe QUT is setting a benchmark, along with ECU and UC, to which other universities should aspire. In conclusion, I believe further efforts should be undertaken to heighten the differences in status between PhDs by Published Papers generated during enrolment, PhDs by Published Papers generated before enrolment and honorary doctorates awarded for non-academic published work. Failure to do so courts cynical comparison of all PhD by Published Papers with unearnt doctorates bought from Internet shysters. References Brown, George. “Protecting Australia’s Higher Education System: A Proactive Versus Reactive Approach in Review (1999–2004).” Proceedings of the Australian Universities Quality Forum 2004. Australian Universities Quality Agency, 2004. 11 June 2008 ‹http://www.auqa.edu.au/auqf/2004/program/papers/Brown.pdf>. Campbell, Philip. “Nature Peer Review Trial and Debate.” Nature: International Weekly Journal of Science. December 2006. 11 June 2008 ‹http://www.nature.com/nature/peerreview/> Crisp, Jane, Kay Ferres, and Gillian Swanson, eds. Deciphering Culture: Ordinary Curiosities and Subjective Narratives. London: Routledge, 2000. Department of Education, Science and Training (DEST). “Closed—Register of Refereed Journals.” Higher Education Research Data Collection, 2008. 11 June 2008 ‹http://www.dest.gov.au/sectors/research_sector/online_forms_services/ higher_education_research_data_ collection.htm>. Edith Cowan University. “Policy Content.” Postgraduate Research: Thesis by Publication, 2003. 11 June 2008 ‹http://www.ecu.edu.au/GPPS/policies_db/tmp/ac063.pdf>. Gledhill, Christine, and Gillian Swanson, eds. Nationalising Femininity: Culture, Sexuality and Cinema in Britain in World War Two. Manchester: Manchester UP, 1996. Griffith Law School, Griffith University. Handbook for Research Higher Degree Students. 24 March 2004. 11 June 2008 ‹http://www.griffith.edu.au/centre/slrc/pdf/rhdhandbook.pdf>. Jeffries, Stuart. “I’m a celebrity, get me an honorary degree!” The Guardian 6 July 2006. 11 June 2008 ‹http://education.guardian.co.uk/higher/comment/story/0,,1813525,00.html>. Kermit the Frog. “Kermit’s Commencement Address at Southampton Graduate Campus.” Long Island University News 19 May 1996. 11 June 2008 ‹http://www.southampton.liu.edu/news/commence/1996/kermit.htm>. McNamara, Eileen. “Honorary senselessness.” The Boston Globe 7 May 2006. ‹http://www. boston.com/news/local/articles/2006/05/07/honorary_senselessness/>. O’Loughlin, Shaunnagh. “Doctor Cave.” Monash Magazine 21 (May 2008). 13 Aug. 2008 ‹http://www.monash.edu.au/pubs/monmag/issue21-2008/alumni/cave.html>. Queensland University of Technology. “Presentation of PhD Theses by Published Papers.” Queensland University of Technology Doctor of Philosophy Regulations (IF49). 12 Oct. 2007. 11 June 2008 ‹http://www.mopp.qut.edu.au/Appendix/appendix09.jsp#14%20Presentation %20of%20PhD%20Theses>. Swinburne University of Technology. Research Higher Degrees and Policies. 14 Nov. 2007. 11 June 2008 ‹http://www.swinburne.edu.au/corporate/registrar/ppd/docs/RHDpolicy& procedure.pdf>. University of Canberra. Higher Degrees by Research: Policy and Procedures (The Gold Book). 7.3.3.27 (a). 15 Nov. 2004. 11 June 2008 ‹http://www.canberra.edu.au/research/attachments/ goldbook/Pt207_AB20approved3220arp07.pdf>.

The following Masters theses in Educational and Developmental Psychology have been submitted to the undernoted universities. There are four universities which offer specialist professional training to be an endorsed Educational and Developmental Psychologist in Australia. These are, Monash University, The University of Melbourne, The Australian Catholic University, and Queensland University of Technology, respectively. These theses are only a snapshot of what has been submitted for examination in Australia. If you are interested in a project and require further details then please contact the research supervisors.

Integrity is fundamental to everyone involved in education – students, parents, teachers, lecturers, administrators and future employers, as well as the general public. It is hardly surprising therefore, that research on educational integrity continues to gather momentum, as evidenced by the growing number of conferences and seminars on this subject around the world. I am very pleased to report that while student cheating and plagiarism continue to be topics of interest, practitioners and researchers are also exploring the broader, social context and the changing, globalised and increasingly commercialised nature of education itself. The current issue of the International Journal for Educational Integrity is introduced by William Astore's Plenary Address from the Annual International Center for Academic Integrity Conference, held at Washington University in St Louis, Illinois in October this year. Astore spoke boldly to conference delegates of the 'wider dimensions of academic integrity', using anecdotes from his own experience as a military instructor at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, and as a history professor at the Pennsylvania College of Technology. He convincingly argued that systemic breaches of integrity are far more harmful than individual lapses such as student cheating because they compromise the institution as a whole. In his Address, Astore was openly critical of the marketisation of higher education, a topic which was also explored at the 4th Asia-Pacific Conference on Educational Integrity: Creating an Inclusive Approach, held in September at the University of Wollongong in NSW, Australia. The four best refereed papers from the Asia-Pacific Conference are included in this issue of the IJEI. Kim awyer from the University of Melbourne, and Jackie Johnson and Mark Holub from the University of Western ustralia, provide a candid analysis of the decline in academic standards and integrity in Australian higher education. This paper provides a thorough overview of recent changes in Australian higher education. As Richard Davis commented in his review, "Critics of the modern university face an uphill task. Accused of advocating old, inefficient ways and lamenting a decadent past, they are easily silenced by self-satisfied colleagues enjoying their large research grants and consultancies. Some critics can do little more than condemn local personalities. All would be well if the vice-chancellor was less authoritarian or the university council less mean in its refusal of salary increases. The strength of the current paper lies in its remorseless analysis of the system which developed inexorably from the government's determination to educate more students while cutting its higher education costs. The 'new' corporate market-based university replaced the 'old' university dedicated to the ideals of free enquiry and education as an end in itself". Moving from the broad educational context to specific practices, the next four papers in this issue investigate issues of learning, teaching, assessment and adjudication. Clair Hughes from the University of Queensland addresses an apparent shortfall in Australian universities' implementation of 'Graduate Attributes' (GA), including the GA relating to ethical conduct. Hughes maintains that to authentically operationalise GAs, much more is needed than simply mapping specific attributes against existing programs and courses. Hughes argues for a whole of programme approach, the explicit inclusion of ethics in course teaching and assessment plans, and provides specific examples of how this may be achieved. Jon Yorke, Kathryn Lawson and Graham McMahon from Curtin University of Technology in Western Australia, ask how those who adjudicate breaches of academic integrity can reliably determine 'intent' in cases of plagiarism. The authors draw on a desktop study of institutional policies and procedures in 20 universities from Australia, US, Singapore, Hong Kong, India and the UK to analyse the way that 'intent' is defined and determined. Their findings indicate that despite the espoused significance of 'intent' in determining outcomes for alleged academic misconduct in many policies, there is inconsistency in the way that it is treated. The authors provide a preliminary series of 'probability factors' which might be used to determine 'intent' and call for further research in this little explored aspect of academic integrity. Grace McCarthy and Ann Rogerson from the University of Wollongong in NSW, Australia, share the results of a trial at the Sydney Business School where 61 international students were encouraged to use 'originality reports' provided by the software program Turnitin to assess the originality of their own work and thus avoid inadvertent plagiarism. In conjunction with hands-on support from teaching staff, students were permitted to submit as many drafts as necessary to Turnitin, with the result that all final submissions had a text match of 5% or less. As a consequence of the positive results of the trial, the use of Turnitin as a drafting mechanism, coupled with an extensive program of embedded support and supplementary workshops, has now been mandated for all subjects. The authors share further qualitative and quantitative data to support their thesis that "the use of text-matching software can be a powerful aid to help students improve their writing and to help academic staff identify potential plagiarism". The final paper in this issue is the only one not previously presented at one of the international conferences on academic integrity held during 2009. Mary Davis and Jude Carroll from Oxford Brookes University, using data collected over three years from cohorts of international students in the UK, also explore the role of text-matching software in plagiarism education, with a focus on the importance of formative feedback through tutorial intervention. As one part of an overall educative approach, students worked hand in hand with their tutors to read and interpret the Originality Reports of ungraded drafts of assignments prior to final submission. Students were also surveyed at the end of the module to ascertain their perceptions of the value of using Turnitin in this way. The data indicated that the approach taken at Oxford Brookes University resulted in reductions in the amount of plagiarism, over-reliance on sources, citations errors and insufficient paraphrasing. This study provides an example of best practice in the educational use of text-matching software and provides a potential counter to those who are concerned that the sole function of such software is to police and punish students. I hope that you enjoy this issue of the International Journal for Educational Integrity, and invite you to submit a paper for review directly to me at tracey.bretag@unisa.edu.au or respond to the Call for Papers for Volume 6(2) below. Tracey Bretag, IJEI Editor December 2009 Call for papers, Volume 6(2) 2010 Special issue of IJEI on 'digital technologies and educational integrity' Edited by Chris Moore and Ruth Walker This special issue seeks articles that address the impact of digital technologies on educational integrity. Many different terms have emerged in an attempt to capture the shifting terrain of media and users in various networked environments: 'social', 'participatory', 'user-generated' or simply 'new' media. Common to the online and interactive spaces of Web2.0 is the challenge of technologies and practices that are capable of changing the way we teach, learn, and share knowledge. How can we best engage and support students and colleagues coming to terms with the dynamics of these technologies and the development of new literacies? We are particularly interested in innovative research from scholars in cultural and media studies and/or the scholarship of teaching and learning, and welcome interest from the other disciplinary researchers, who might consider a broad range of questions about digital technologies that critically unpack the conversation about education integrity that goes beyond preoccupation with plagiarism and research ethics. Critical voices of concern, examples of best practice and consideration of the perceived impact of digital technology on institutional boundaries are keenly sought as is research exploring the collaborative approaches to social and participatory media that challenge conceptions about authorial identity and scholarly writing practices. Research examining the development of new literacies that celebrate the appropriation, adaptation and transformation of source material would fit well within the scope of this special issue. Abstract due date: 31 March 2010 Full paper deadline: 1 July 2010 Special issue release date: December 2010 Send all enquiries and 500 word abstract to the guest editors at ruth_walker@uow.edu.au With thanks to our reviewers in 2009: Kate Andre, University of South Australia Peter Bowden, University of Sydney Kylie Brass, University of Western Sydney Deborah Churchman, University of South Australia Geoffrey Crisp, University of Adelaide Richard Davis, University of Tasmania John Dearn, Australian National University Fiona Duggan Lawrence B. Ebert Teddi Fishman, Clemson University Neera Handa, University of Western Sydney Beverley Kokkin, University of South Australia Margaret Lightbody, University of Adelaide Nancy Matchett, University of Colorado Paul Moore, University of Wollongong Gerry Mullins, University of Adelaide Nicholas Proctor, University of South Australia Wendy Sutherland-Smith, Monash University Daniel Wueste, Clemson University

IntroductionThis paper explores the different meanings that individuals from diverse ethnic backgrounds associate with being authentic. It builds on previous research (Menendez 11) that found quantitative differences in terms of the meanings individuals from Eastern and Western backgrounds tend to associate with being authentic. Using qualitative analysis, it describes in more detail how individuals from these two backgrounds construct their different meanings of authenticity.Authenticity has become an overriding moral principle in contemporary Western societies and has only recently started to be contested (Feldman). From cultural products to individuals’ discourses, authenticity pervades Western culture (Lindholm; Potter; Vannini and Williams). On an individual level, the ideal of authenticity is reflected in the maxim “be true to yourself.” The social value of authenticity has a relatively recent history in the Western world of approximately 200 years (Trilling). It started to develop alongside the notion of individuality during modernity (Taylor, Sources; Trilling). The Romantic movement consolidated its cultural influence (Taylor, Sources). In the 1960s, the Hippy movement revived authenticity as a countercultural discourse, although it has progressively become mainstream through consumer culture and therapeutic discourses (Binkley).Most of the studies in the literature on authenticity as a cultural phenomenon are theoretical, conducted from a philosophical perspective (Ferrara; Guignon; Taylor, Ethics), but few of them are empirical, mostly from sociology (Erickson; Franzese, Thine; Turner, Quest; Vannini, Authenticity). Part of this dearth of empirical research on authenticity is due to the difficulties that researchers encounter in attempting to define what it means to be authentic (Franzese, Authenticity 87). Sociologists study the phenomenological experience of being true to oneself, but are less attentive to the metaphysical notion of being a “true self” (Vannini, Dead 236–37). Trying to preserve this open approach, without judging individuals on how “authentic” they are, is what makes defining authenticity difficult. For this reason, sociologists have defined being authentic in a broad sense as “an individual’s subjective sense that their behaviour, appearance, self, reflects their sense of core being. One’s sense of core being is composed of their values, beliefs, feelings, identities, self-meanings, etc.” (Franzese, Authenticity 87); this is the definition of authenticity that I use here. Besides being scarce, the sociological empirical studies on authenticity have been conducted with individuals from Western backgrounds and, thus, have privileged authenticity as a Western cultural construct. This paper tries to contribute to this field of research by: (1) contributing more empirical investigation and (2) providing cross-cultural comparison between individuals from Eastern and Western backgrounds.The literature on cross-cultural values associates Eastern societies with collective (Hofstede, Hofstede and Mirkov 95–97; 112–17) and material or survival (Inglehart and Welzel 51–57; 61–65) values, while Western societies tend to be linked to the opposite kind of values: individual, post-material or self-expression (WVS). For example, societies that score high in survival values are likely to be African (e.g., Zimbabwe) Middle Eastern (e.g., Morocco and Jordan) or Asian (e.g., Bangladesh) countries, while societies that score high in self-expression values tend to be European (e.g., Sweden) or English speaking (e.g., Australia) countries. Nevertheless, there are some exceptions, the case of Japan, for example, which tends to score high in self-expression values despite being an “Eastern” society (WVS). These differences also tend to be reflected among Eastern minorities living in Western countries (Chua and Rubenfeld). Collective values emphasise harmony in relations and prioritise the needs of the group over the individual; on the other hand, individual values emphasise self-expression. Material or survival values accentuate the satisfaction of “basic” needs, in Abraham Maslow’s terms (21), such as physiological or security needs, and imply practising thrift and delaying immediate gratification; by contrast, post-material or self-expression values stress the satisfaction of “higher” needs, such as freedom of speech, equality, or aesthetic needs.The sociologist Ralph Turner (Real) created a theoretical framework to organize individuals’ discourses around authenticity: the “impulsive” and “institutional” categories. One of Turner’s assumptions is particularly important in understanding the differences between these two categories: individuals tend to consider the self as an objective entity that, despite only existing in their minds, feels “real” to them. This can have consequences for the meanings they ascribe to certain internal subjective states, such as cognitions or emotions, which can be interpreted as indicators of their authentic selves (990–91).The institutional and impulsive categories are two different ways of understanding authenticity that present several differences (991–95). Two among them are most relevant to understand the differences that I discuss in this paper. The first one has to do with the individual’s locus of the self, whether the self is conceptualized as located “outside” or “inside” the individual. Impulsive interpretations of authenticity have an internal sense of authenticity as “being,” while institutional conceptualizations have an external sense of authenticity as “becoming.” For “impulsives,” the authentic self is something that must be searched for. Impulsives look within to discover their “true self,” which is often in opposition to society’s roles and its expectations of the individual. On the other hand, for “institutionals” authentic is achieved through external effort (Turner, Quest 155); it is something that individuals achieve through regular practice, often aligned with society’s roles and their expectations of the individual (Turner, Real 992).The second difference has to do with the management of emotions. For an institutional understanding of authenticity, individuals are true to their own authentic selves when they are in full control of their capacities and emotions. By contrast, from an impulsive point of view, individuals are true to themselves when they are spontaneous, accepting and freely expressing their emotions, often by breaking the internal or external controls that society imposes on them (Turner, Real 993).Although individuals can experience both types of authenticity, previous research on this topic (Menendez) has shown that institutional experiences tend to happen more frequently among Easterners, and impulsive experiences tend to occur more frequently among Westerners. In this paper, I show how Easterners and Westerners construct institutional and impulsive meanings of authenticity respectively; what kind of authenticity work individuals from these two backgrounds do when they conceptualize their authentic selves; how they interpret internal subjective states as expressions of who they are; and what stories they tell themselves about who they are.I suggest that these stories, although they may look purely individual, can also be social. Individuals from Western backgrounds tend to interpret impulsive experiences of authenticity as expressing their authentic selves, as they are informed by the individual and post-material values of Western societies. In contrast, individuals from Eastern backgrounds tend to interpret institutional experiences of authenticity as expressing their authentic selves, as they have been socialized in the more collective and material values of Eastern societies.Finally, and before I proceed to the analysis, I would like to acknowledge a limitation of this study. The dichotomies that I use to explain my argument, such as the Western and Eastern or the impulsive and institutional categories, can constitute a limitation for this paper because they cannot reflect nuances. They can be easily contested. For example, the division between Eastern and Western societies is often seen as ideological and Turner’s distinction between institutional and impulsive experiences of authenticity can create artificial separations between the notions of self and society or reason and passion (Solomon 173). However, these concepts have not been used for ideological or simplifying purposes, but to help explain distinguishable cultural orientations towards authenticity in the data.MethodologyI completed 20 interviews (from 50 minutes to 2 hours in length) with 20 students at La Trobe University (Australia), between September 2012 and April 2013. The 20 interviewees (9 females and 11 males), ranged from 18 to 58 years old (the median age was 24 years old). The sample was theoretically designed to cover as many diverse cultural backgrounds as possible. I asked the interviewees questions about: moments they had experienced that felt either authentic and inauthentic, what constitutes a life worth-living, and the impact their cultural backgrounds might have had on their conceptions of their true selves.The 20 interviewees were born in 13 different countries. According to the extensive dataset on cultural values, the World Values Survey (WVS), these 13 countries have different percentages of post-materialists—individuals who choose post-material instead of material values (Inglehart and Welzel 54–56). Table 1 shows the percentages of post-materialists in each of the interviewees’ countries of birth. Table 1: Percentages of post-materialists in the interviewees’ countries of birth Country % of post-materialists WVS Wave United Kingdom 22.8 2005 – 2009 Australia 20.5 2010 – 2014 United States 16.7 2010 – 2014 Israel 11.6 2000 – 2004 Finland 11.3 2005 – 2009 Greece (Turkey) 10.7 2010 – 2014 South Africa 7.7 2005 – 2009 Malaysia 5.6 2010 – 2014 Ghana 4.2 2010 – 2014 India 4 2005 – 2009 China 2.5 2010 – 2014 Egypt 1.1 2010 – 2014 Note: These data are based on the 4-item post-materialism index question (Y002) of World Values Survey (WVS). I use three different waves of data (2000–2004, 2005–2009, and 2010–2014). Greece did not have any data in World Values Survey, so its data have been estimated considering the results from Turkey, which is the most similar country in geographical and cultural terms that had data available.In my model, I consider “Western” societies as those that have more than 10% post-materialists, while “Eastern” societies have less than 10% post-materialists. As shown in Table 1 and mentioned earlier, Western countries (English speaking or European) tend to have higher percentages of post-materialists than Eastern societies (African, Asian and Middle Eastern).Thus, as Table 2 shows, the interviewees who were born in a Western society are ascribed to one group, while individuals born in an Eastern society are ascribed to another group. Although many overseas-born interviewees have lived in Australia for periods that range from 6 months to 10 years, they were ascribed to the “East” and “West” groups solely based on their country of birth. Even though these individuals may have had experiences of socialization in Australia, I assume that they have been primarily socialized in the values of their ethnic backgrounds and the countries where they were born, via their parents’ educational values or through direct experience, during the time that they lived in their countries of birth. According to my definition of authenticity, individuals’ values inform their understanding of authenticity, therefore, the values from their ethnic backgrounds can also influence their understanding of authenticity.In the first phase of the analysis, I used Grounded Theory (Charmaz), with categories directly emerging from the data, to analyse my interviewees’ stories. In the second stage, I reviewed these categories in combination with Turner’s categories of impulsive and institutional, applying them to classify the stories.Table 2: Distribution of participants between “East” and “West” West (n=11) East (n=9) Australia (n=5) China (n=2) United Kingdom (n=2) India (n=2) United States (n=1) South Korea (n=1) Greece (n=1) South Africa (n=1) Finland (n=1) Egypt (n=1) Israel (n=1) Ghana (n=1) Malaysia (n=1) ResultsAlthough I interviewed 20 participants, due to space-constraints, I illustrate my argument with only 4 interview extracts from 4 of the interviewees: 2 interviewees from Western backgrounds and 2 from Eastern backgrounds. However, these stories are representative of the trends found for the whole sample. I show how Easterners and Westerners construct their authentic selves in institutional and impulsive senses respectively through the two key characteristics that I presented in the introduction: locus of the self and management of emotions.In the first instance, Rachel (from Australia, 24 years old), a Western respondent, shows an impulsive locus of the self as “being.” Authenticity is discovered through self-acceptance of an uncomfortable emotion, like a “bad mood:”I think the times when I want to say, ‘oh, I wasn’t myself’, I usually was. My bad moods are more ‘me’. My bad moods are almost always the ‘real me’. [So you consider that your authentic self is something that is there, inside you, that you have to discover, or it is something outside yourself, that you can achieve?] I think it is something that you have to discover for yourself. I think it is different for everyone. [But would you say that it is something that is there already or it is something that you become?] No, I think it is something that is there already.On the other hand, Rani (from China, 24 years old), an Eastern respondent, interprets authenticity as “becoming;” authenticity does not pre-exist—as in the case of Rachel—but is something “external” to her idea of self. Rani becomes herself by convincing herself that she conforms to society’s ideals of physical beauty. Unlike the process of self-acceptance that Rachel described, Rani develops authentic selfhood by “lying” to herself or, as she says, “through some lies”:I have heard this sentence, like ‘you have to be yourself to others’, but I think it is really hard to do this. I think people still need some ‘acting’ things in their life. You need to act, not to say to act as another person, but sometimes like let’s say to be polite or make other people like you, you need acting. And sometimes if you are doing the ‘acting things’ a lot, you are going to believe this is true (she laughs). [Like others will believe that you are something that you are not?] I think at the beginning, maybe that’s not, but… because some people wake up every morning and say to the mirror, ‘you are very beautiful, you are the most beautiful girl in the world’, then, you will be happy and you will actually become beautiful. I think it is not like lie to yourself, but it is just being confident. Maybe at the beginning you are not going to believe that you are beautiful… like, what is this sentence? ‘Being true to yourself’, but actually doing this everyday, then that’s true, you will become, you will be confident. [So that means you can be yourself also through…] Through some lies. [So you don’t think that there is something inside you that you have to kind of discover?] No.Eastern and Western respondents also tend to interpret emotions differently. Westerners are more likely to interpret them in more impulsive terms than Easterners, who interpret them in a more institutional light. As we can see in the following extract, Sean, a Western respondent (born in Australia, but raised in England, 41 years old), feels inauthentic because he could not express his dislike of a co-worker he did not get along with:In a six months job I had before I came to Australia, I was an occupational therapist in a community. There was a girl in the administration department who was so rude. I wanted to say: ‘look darling you are so rude. It is really unpleasant talking to you. Can you just be nice? It would be just so much better and you will get more done and you will get more from me’. That’s what I should have said, but I didn’t say it. I didn’t, why? Maybe it is that sort of culture of not saying things or maybe it is me not being assertive enough. I don’t think I was being myself. Because my real self wanted to say: ‘look darling, you are not helping matters by being a complete bitch’. But I didn’t say that. I wasn’t assertive enough.In a similar type of incident, Ben, an Eastern respondent (from Ghana, 32 years old), describes an outburst he had with a co-worker who was annoying him. Unlike Sean, Ben expressed his anger to the co-worker, but he does not consider this to be a manifestation of his authentic self. For Ben, to act authentically one must control their emotions and try help others:I don’t know if that is myself or if that is not myself, but sometimes I get angry, I get upset, and I am the open type. I am the type that I can’t keep something in me, so sometimes when you make me annoyed, I just response. There is this time about this woman, in a class, that I was in Ghana. She was an older woman, a respected woman, she kept annoying me and there was one day that I couldn’t take it any longer, so I just burst up and I just… I don’t know what I said, I just… said a lot of bad things to her. The woman, she was shocked. I also felt shocked because I thought I could control myself, so that’s me… I don’t want to hide my feelings, I just want to come out with what I think when you make me annoyed, but those times, when I come out, I don’t like them, because I think it contradicts who I really am, someone who is supposed to help or care. I don’t like that aspect. You know somebody could be bossy, so he or she enjoys shouting everybody. I don’t enjoy that, but sometimes it is something that I cannot even control. Someone pushes me to the limit, and I just can’t keep that anger, and it comes out. I won’t say that is ‘me,’ I wouldn’t say that that is me. I don’t think that is a ‘true me’. [Why?] Because the true me would enjoy that experience the way I enjoy helping people instead.Unlike the two accounts from Rachel and Rani, these two last passages from Sean and Ben describe experiences of inauthenticity, where the authentic self cannot be expressed. What is important in these two passages is not their behaviour, but how they attribute their own emotions to their sense of authentic selfhood. Sean identifies his authentic self with the “impulsive” self who expresses his emotions, while Ben identifies his authentic self with the “institutional” self who is in control of his emotions. Sean feels inauthentic because he could not express his angry feelings to the co-worker, whereas Ben feels inauthentic because he could not control his outburst. Ben still hesitates about which side of himself can be attributed to his authentic self, for example, he says that he is “the open type” or that he does not want to “hide [his] feelings”, but he eventually identifies his authentic self with his institutional self.The choices that Sean and Ben make about the emotions that they attribute to their authentic selves could be motivated by their respective ethnic backgrounds. Like Rachel, Sean identifies his authentic self with a socially unacceptable emotion: anger. Consistent with his Western background, Sean’s sense of authenticity emphasizes the needs of the individual over the group and sees suppression of emotions as repressive. On the other hand, Ben reasons that since he does not enjoy being angry as much as he enjoys helping others, expressing anger is not a manifestation of authenticity. His authentic self is linked to his institutional self. Ben’s values are infused with altruism, which reflects the collective values that tend to be associated with his Eastern background. For him, suppression of emotions might not mean repression, but can foster authenticity instead.DiscussionBoth ways of interpreting authenticity, impulsive and institutional, look for self-consistency and the need to tell a coherent story to ourselves about who we are. The results section of this paper showed how Easterners and Westerners conceptualize authenticity. Easterners understand authenticity differently to Western discourses of the authentic. These alternative understandings offer viable solutions to the self-consistency problem. They present external, rather than internal, ways of conceiving the authentic self, and regulative, rather than expressive, approaches to emotions. As I mentioned earlier, Eastern societies are associated with collective and material values, while Western ones are related to individual and post-material values. These divisions in terms of values are reflected in individuals’ self-constructs. Individuals in Western societies tend to have a more independent idea of the self, whereas individuals in Eastern societies are more likely to have an interdependent one (Kitayama). An interdependent idea of the self values connectedness and conceptualizes the self in relation to others, so it can generate an institutional approach to authenticity, where the idea of the authentic self is not something that individuals search for inside themselves, but something that individuals become through their participation in social roles. This was evident in the example of Rani, whose idea of being authentic as “becoming” seemed to be an extension of her more interdependent self-construct and the need to fit in society.A regulative approach to emotions has also been associated with Easterners (Cheung and Park), on the basis of their collective values and interdependent self-constructs. For individuals from a Western background, with a more independent sense of self, as in the case of Sean, suppressing emotions tends to be seen negatively as being inauthentic, a form of repression. However, for individuals with interdependent self-constructs, this can be not only less harmful (feeling less inauthentic), but can even be beneficial because they tend to prioritize the needs of others (Le and Impett). This is evident in the example of Ben, for whom suppressing aanger does not make him feel inauthentic because he identifies his authentic self with the self that is in control of his emotions and helps others. This understanding of authenticity is aligned with the collective values of his ethnic background.In sum, ideas of authenticity seem to vary culturally according to the repertoires and values systems that inform them. Thus, even what we think might be our most intimate or individual experiences, like our experiences of authenticity and ideas of who we are, can also be socially constructed. This paper has tried to demonstrate the importance of sociology for the study of authenticity as a cultural phenomenon.ReferencesBinkley, Sam. Getting Loose: Lifestyle Consumption in the 1970s. Durham: Duke UP, 2007.Charmaz, Kathy. Constructing Grounded Theory. London: Sage, 2013.Cheung, Rebecca and Irene Park. “Anger Supression, Interdependent Self-Construal, and Depression among Asian American and European American College Students”. Cultural Diversity and Ethnic Minority Psychology 16.4 (2010): 517–25.Chua, Amy, and Jed Rubenfeld. The Triple Package: How Three Unlikely Traits Explain the Rise and Fall of Cultural Groups in America. New York: The Penguin P, 2014.Erickson, Rebecca J. When Emotion Is the Product: Self, Society, and (In)Authenticity in a Postmodern World. Ph.D. Thesis, Washington: Whasington State U, 1991.Feldman, Simon. Against Authenticity: Why You Shouldn't Be Yourself. Kentucky: Lexington Books, 2014.Ferrara, Alessandro. Reflective Authenticity Rethinking the Project of Modernity. London: Routledge, 2002.Franzese, Alexis D. To Thine Own Self Be True? An Exploration of Authenticity. Ph.D. Thesis, Durham: Duke University, 2007.———. “Authenticity: Perspectives and Experiences.” Authenticity in Culture, Self, and Society. Eds. Phillip Vannini and J. Patrick Williams. Farnham: Ashgate, 2009. 87–101.Guignon, Charles B. On Being Authentic. London: Routledge, 2004.Hofstede, Geert, and Michael Minkov. Cultures and Organizations: Software of the Mind. USA: McGraw Hill, 2010.Inglehart, Ronald, and Christian Welzel. Modernization, Cultural Change and Democracy: The Human Development Sequence. New York: Cambridge UP, 2005.Kitayama, Shinobu, and Hazel R. Markus. “Culture and the Self: Implications for Cognition, Emotion, and Motivation.” Psychological Review 98.2 (1991): 224–53.Le, Bonnie M., and Emily A. Impett. “When Holding Back Helps: Supressing Negative Emotions during Sacrifice Feels Authentic and Is Beneficial for Highly Interdependent People”. Pscyhological Science 24.9 (2013): 1809–15.Lindholm, Charles. Culture and Authenticity. Malden: Blackwell, 2008.Maslow, Abraham H. Toward a Psychology of Being. Princeton: Van Nostrand, 1968.Menendez, Ramon. “The Culture of Authenticity: An Empirical Study of La Trobe University Students from Diverse Cultural Backgrounds.” Proceedings of The Australian Sociological Association (TASA) Conference, 25-28 November. Melbourne: Monash U, 2013.Potter, Andrew. The Authenticity Hoax How We Get Lost Finding Ourselves. Carlton North: Scribe, 2010.Solomon, Robert C. “Notes on Emotion, ‘East and West.’” Philosophy East and West 45.2 (1995): 171–202.Taylor, Charles. Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1989.———. The Ethics of Authenticity. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1991.Trilling, Lionel. Sincerity and Authenticity. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1972.Turner, Ralph. “Is There a Quest for Identity?” The Sociological Quarterly 16.2 (1975): 148–61.———. “The Real Self: From Institution to Impulse.” The American Journal of Sociology 81.5 (1976): 989–1016.Vannini, Phillip. Authenticity and Power in the Academic Profession. Ph.D. Thesis, Whasington: Whashington State U, 2004.———. “Dead Poet’s Society: Teaching, Publish-or-Perish, and Professors’ Experiences of Authenticity.” Symbolic Interaction 29.2 (2006): 235–57.———, and J. Patrick Williams. Authenticity in Culture, Self, and Society. Farnham: Ashgate, 2009.WVS. World Values Survey. World Values Survey Association. 18 Feb. 2015 ‹http://www.worldvaluessurvey.org/wvs.jsp›.

IntroductionFor many, north is an abstract point on a compass, an arrow that tells you which way to hold up a map. Though scientifically defined according to the magnetic north pole, and/or the earth’s axis of rotation, these facts are not necessarily discernible to the average person. Perhaps for this reason, the Oxford English Dictionary begins with reference to the far more mundane and accessible sun and features of the human body, in defining north as; “in the direction of the part of the horizon on the left-hand side of a person facing the rising sun” (OED Online). Indeed, many of the words for ‘north’ around the world are etymologically linked to the left hand side (for example Cornish clēth ‘north, left’). We shall see later that even in English, many speakers conceptualise ‘north’ in an egocentric way. Other languages define ‘north’ in opposition to an orthogonal east-west axis defined by the sun’s rising and setting points (see, e.g., the extensive survey of Brown).Etymology aside, however, studies such as Brown’s presume a set of four cardinal directions which are available as primordial ontological categories which may (or may not) be labelled by the languages of the world. If we accept this premise, the fact that a word is translated as ‘north’ is sufficient to understand the direction it describes. There is good reason to reject this premise, however. We present data from three languages among which there is considerable variance in how the words translated as ‘north’ are typically used and understood. These languages are Kuuk Thaayorre (an Australian Aboriginal language spoken on Cape York Peninsula), Marshallese (an Oceanic language spoken in the Republic of the Marshall Islands), and Dhivehi (an Indo-Aryan language spoken in the Maldives). Lastly, we consider the results of an experiment that show Australian English speakers tend to interpret the word north according to the orientation of their own bodies and the objects they manipulate, rather than as a cardinal direction as such.‘North’ in Kuuk ThaayorreKuuk Thaayorre is a Pama-Nyungan language spoken on the west coast of Australia’s Cape York Peninsula in the community of Pormpuraaw. The Kuuk Thaayorre words equivalent to north, south, east and west (hereafter, ‘directionals’) are both complex and frequently used. They are complex in the sense that they combine with prefixes and suffixes to form dozens of words which indicate not only the direction involved, but also the degree of distance, whether there is motion from, towards, to a fixed point, or within a bounded area in that location, proximity to the local river, and more. The ubiquity of these words is illustrated by the fact that the most common greeting formula involves one person asking nhunt wanthan pal yan? ‘where are you going’ and the other responding, for example, ngay yuurriparrop yan ‘I’m going a long way southwards towards the river’, or ngay iilungkarruw yan ‘I’m coming from the northwest’. Directional terms are strewn liberally throughout Kuuk Thaayorre speech. They are employed in the description of both large-scale and small-scale spaces, whether giving directions to a far-off town, asking another person to ‘move a little to the north’, or identifying the person ‘to the east’ of another in a photograph. Likewise, directional gestures are highly frequent, sometimes augmenting the information given in the speech stream, sometimes used in the absence of spoken directions, and other times redundantly duplicating the information given by a directional word.The forms and meanings of directional words are described in detail in Gaby (Gaby 344–52). At the core of this system are six directional roots referring to the north and south banks of the nearby Edward River as well as two intersecting axes. One of these axes is equivalent to the east—west axis familiar to English speakers, and is defined by the apparent diurnal trajectory of the sun. (At a latitude of 14 degrees 54 minutes south, the Kuuk Thaayorre homeland sees little variation in the location of sunrise and sunset through the year.) While the poles of the second axis are translated by the English terms north and south, from a Western perspective this axis is skewed such that Kuuk Thaayorre -ungkarr ‘~north’ lies approximately 35 degrees west of magnetic north. Rather than being defined by magnetic or polar north, this axis aligns with the local coastline. This is true even when the terms are used at inland locations where there is no visual access to the water or parallel sand ridges. How Kuuk Thaayorre speakers apply this system to environments further removed from this particular stretch of coast—especially in the presence of a differently-oriented coast—remains a topic for future research.‘North’ in MarshalleseMarshallese is the language of the people of the Marshall Islands, an expansive archipelago consisting of 22 inhabited atolls and three inhabited non-atoll islands located in the Northern Pacific. The Marshallese have a long history as master navigators, a skill necessary to keep strong links between far-flung and disparate islands (Lewis; Genz).Figure 1: The location of the Marshall IslandsAs with other Pacific languages (e.g. Palmer; Ross; François), Marshallese deploys a complex system of geocentric references. Cardinal directions are historically derived from the Pacific trade winds, reflecting the importance of these winds for navigation and wayfinding. The etymologies of the Marshallese directions are shown in Table 1 below. The terms given in this table are in the Ralik dialect, spoken in the western Marshall Islands. The terms used in the Ratak (eastern) dialect are related, but slightly different in form. See Schlossberg for more detailed discussion. Etymologies originally sourced from Bender et al. and Ross.Table 1: Marshallese cardinal direction words with etymological source semantics EastWestNorthSouthNoun formrearrilik iōn̄ rōkEtymology‘calm shore (of islet)’‘rough shore (of islet)’‘windy season’; ‘season of northerly winds’‘dry season’; ‘season of southerly winds’Verb modifier formtatonin̄a rōn̄aEtymology‘up(wind)’‘down(wind)’‘windy season’; ‘season of northerly winds’‘dry season’; ‘season of southerly winds’As with many other Oceanic languages, Marshallese has three domains of spatial language use: the local domain, the inshore-maritime domain and the navigational domain. Cardinal directions are the sole strategy employed in the navigational domain, which occurs when sailing on the open ocean. In the inshore-maritime domain, which applies when sailing on the ocean or lagoon in sight of land, a land-sea axis is used (The question of whether, in fact, these directions form axes as such is considered further below). Similarly, when walking around an island, a calm side-rough side (of island) axis is employed. In both situations, either the cardinal north-south axis or east-west axis is used to form a secondary cross-axis to the topography-based axis. The cardinal axis parallel to the calm-rough or land-sea axis is rarely used. When the island is not oriented perfectly perpendicular to one of the cardinal axes, the cardinal axes rotate such that they are perpendicular to the primary axis. This can result in the orientation of iōn̄ ‘north’ being quite skewed away from ‘true’ north. An example of how the cardinal and topographic axes prototypically work is exemplified in Figure 2, which shows Jabor, an islet in Jaluit Atoll in the south-west Marshalls.Figure 2: The geocentric directional system of Jabor, Jaluit AtollWhile cartographic cardinal directions comprise two perpendicular axes, this is not the case for many Marshallese. The clearest evidence for this is the directional system of Kili Island, a small non-atoll island approximately 50km west of Jaluit Atoll. The directional system of Kili is similar to that of Jabor, with one notable exception; the iōn̄-rōk ‘north-south’ and rear-rilik ‘east-west’ axes are not perpendicular but rather parallel (Figure 3) The rear-rilik axis takes precedence and the iōn̄-rōk axis is rarely used, showing the primacy of the east-west axis on Kili. This is a clear indication that the Western abstraction of crossed cardinal axes is not in play in the Marshall Islands; the iōn̄-rōk and rear-rilik axes can function completely independently of one another.Figure 3: Geocentric system of spatial reference on KiliSpringdale is a small city in north-west of the landlocked state of Arkansas. It hosts the largest number of expatriate Marshallese in the United States. Of 26 participants in an object placement task, four respondents were able to correctly identify the four cardinal points (Schlossberg). Aside from some who said they simply did not know others gave a variety of answers, including that iōn̄, rōk, rilik and rear only exist in the Marshall Islands. Others imagined a canonical orientation derived from their home atoll and transposed this onto their current environment; one person who was facing the front door in their house in Springdale reported that they imagined they were in their house in the Marshall Islands, where when oriented towards the door, they were facing iōn̄ ‘north’, thus deriving an orientation with respect to a Marshallese cardinal direction. Aside from the four participants who identified the directions correctly, a further six participants responded in a consistent—if incorrect—way, i.e. although the directions were not correctly identified, the responses were consistent with the conceptualisation of crossed cardinal axes, merely that the locations identified were rotated from their true referents. This leaves 16 of the 26 participants (62%) who did not display evidence of having a conceptual system of two crossed cardinal axes.If one were to point in a direction and say ‘this is north’, most Westerners would easily be able to identify ‘south’ by pointing in the opposite direction. This is not the case with Marshallese speakers, many of whom are unable to do the same if given a Marshallese cardinal direction and asked to name its opposite (cf. Schlossberg). This demonstrates that for many Marshallese, each of these cardinal terms do not form axes at all, but rather are four unique locally-anchored points.‘North’ in DhivehiDhivehi is spoken in the Maldives, an archipelago to the southwest of India and Sri Lanka in the Indian Ocean (see Figure 4). Maldivians have a long history of sailing on the open waters, in order to fish and to trade. Traditionally, much of the adult male population would spend long periods of time on such voyages, riding the trade winds and navigating by the stars. For Maldivians, uturu ‘north’ is a direction of safety—the long axis of the Maldivian archipelago runs north to south, and so by sailing north, one has the best possible chance of reaching another island or (eventually) the mainlands of India or Sri Lanka.Figure 4: Location of the MaldivesIt is perhaps unsurprising, then, that many Maldivians are well attuned to the direction denoted by uturu ‘north’, as well as to the other cardinal directions. In an object placement task performed by 41 participants in Laamu Atoll, 32 participants (78%) correctly placed a plastic block ‘to the north’ (uturaṣ̊) of another block when instructed to do so (Lum). The prompts dekonaṣ̊ ‘to the south’ and huḷangaṣ̊ ‘to the west’ yielded similarly high rates of correct responses, though as many as 37 participants (90%) responded correctly to the prompt iraṣ̊ ‘to the east’—this is perhaps because the term for ‘east’ also means ‘sun’ and is strongly associated with the sunrise, whereas the terms for the other cardinal directions are comparatively opaque. However, the path of the sun is not the only environmental cue that shapes the use of Dhivehi cardinal directions. As in Kuuk Thaayorre and Marshallese, cardinal directions in Dhivehi are often ‘calibrated’ according to the orientation of local coastlines. In Fonadhoo, for example, which is oriented northeast to southwest, the system of cardinal directions is rotated about 45 degrees clockwise: uturu ‘north’ points to what is actually northeast and dekona/dekunu ‘south’ to what is actually southwest (i.e., along the length of the island), while iru/iramati ‘east’ and huḷangu ‘west’ are perpendicular to shore (see Figure 5). However, despite this rotated system being in use, residents of Fonadhoo often comment that these are not the ‘real’ cardinal directions, which are determined by the path of the sun.Figure 5: Directions in Fonadhoo, Laamu Atoll, MaldivesIn addition to the four cardinal directions, Dhivehi possesses four intercardinal directions, which are compound terms: iru-uturu ‘northeast’, iru-dekunu ‘southeast’, huḷangu-uturu ‘northwest’, and huḷangu-dekunu ‘southwest’. Yet even a system of eight compass points is not sufficient for describing directions over long distances, especially on the open sea where there are no landmarks to refer to. A system of 32 ‘sidereal’ compass directions (see Figure 6), based on the rising and setting points of stars in the night sky, is available for such purposes—for example, simāgu īran̊ ‘Arcturus rising’ points ENE or 67.5°, while simāgu astamān̊ ‘Arcturus setting’ points WNW or 292.5°. (These Dhivehi names for the sidereal directions are borrowings from Arabic, and were probably introduced by Arab seafarers in the medieval period, see Lum 174-79). Eight sidereal directions coincide with the basic (inter)cardinal directions of the solar compass described earlier. For example, gahā ‘Polaris’ in the sidereal compass corresponds exactly with uturu ‘north’ in the solar compass. Thus Dhivehi has both a sidereal ‘north’ and a solar ‘north’, though the latter is sometimes rotated according to local topography. However, the system of sidereal compass directions has largely fallen out of use, and is known only to older and some middle-aged men. This appears to be due to the diversification of the Maldivian economy in recent decades along with the modernisation of Maldivian fishing vessels, including the introduction of GPS technology. Nonetheless, fishermen and fishing communities use solar compass directions much more frequently than other groups in the Maldives (Lum; Palmer et al.), and some of the oldest men still use sidereal compass directions occasionally.Figure 6: Dhivehi sidereal compass with directions in Thaana script (used with kind permission of Abdulla Rasheed and Abdulla Zuhury)‘North’ in EnglishThe traditional definition of north in terms of Magnetic North or Geographic North is well known to native English speakers and may appear relatively straightforward. In practice, however, the use and interpretation of north is more variable. English speakers generally draw on cardinal directions only in restricted circumstances, i.e. in large-scale geographical or navigational contexts rather than, for example, small-scale configurations of manipulable objects (Majid et al. 108). Consequently, most English speakers do not need to maintain a mental compass to keep track of North at all times. So, if English speakers are generally unaware of where North is, how do they perform when required to use it?A group of 36 Australian English speakers participated in an experimental task where they were presented with a stimulus object (in this case, a 10cm wide cube) while facing S72ºE (Poulton). They were then handed another cube and asked to place it next to the stimulus cube in a particular direction (e.g. ‘put this cube to the north of that cube’). Participants completed a total of 48 trials, including each of the four cardinal directions as target, as well as expressions such as behind, in front of and to the left of. As shown in Figure 7, participants’ responses were categorised in one of three ways: correct, near-correct, or incorrect.Figure 7: Possible responses to prompt of north: A = correct, B = near-correct (aligned with the side of stimulus object closest to north), C = incorrect.Every participant placed their cube in alignment with the axes of the stimulus object (i.e. responses B and C in Figure 7). Orientation to Magnetic/Geographic North was thus insufficient to override the local cues of the task at hand. The 9% of participants showed some awareness of the location of Magnetic/Geographic North, however, by making the near-correct response type B. No participants who behaved in such a way expressed certainty in their responses, however. Most commonly, they calculated the rough direction concerned by triangulating with local landmarks such as nearby roads, or the location of Melbourne’s CBD (as verbally expressed both during the task and during an informal interview afterwards).The remaining 91% of participants’ responses were entirely incorrect. Of these, 13.2% involved similar thought processes as the near-correct responses, but did not result in the identification of the closest side of the stimulus to the instructed direction. However, 77.8% of the total participants interpreted north as the far side of the stimulus. While such responses were classified incorrect on the basis of Magnetic or Geographic North, they were consistent with one another and correct with respect to an alternative definition of English north in terms of the participant’s own body. One of the participants alludes to this alternative definition, asking “Do you mean my North or physical North?”. We refer to this alternative definition as Relative North. Relative North is not bound to any given point on the Earth or a derivation of the sun’s position; instead, it is entirely bound to the perceiver’s own orientation. This equates the north direction with forward and the other cardinals’ points are derived from this reference point (see Figure 8). Map-reading practices likely support the development of the secondary, Relative sense of North.Figure 8: Relative North and the Relative directions derived from itConclusionWe have compared the words closest in meaning to the English word north in four entirely unrelated languages. In the Australian Aboriginal language Kuuk Thaayorre, the ‘north’ direction aligns with the local coast, pointing in a direction 35 degrees west of Magnetic North. In Marshallese, the compass direction corresponding to ‘north’ is different for each island, being defined in opposition to an axis running between the ocean and lagoon sides of that island. The Dhivehi ‘north’ direction may be defined either in opposition to the (sun-based) east-west axis, calibrated to the configuration of the local island, as in Marshallese, or defined in terms of Polaris, the Pole star. In all these cases, though, the system of directions is anchored by properties of the external environment. English speakers, by contrast, are shown to—at least some of the time—define north with reference to their own embodied perspective, as the direction extending outwards from the front of their bodies. These findings demonstrate that, far from being universal, ‘north’ is a culture-specific category. As such, great care must be taken when translating or drawing equivalencies between these concepts across languages.ReferencesBender, Byron W., et al. “Proto-Micronesian Reconstructions: I.” Oceanic Linguistics 42.1 (2003): 1–110.Brown, Cecil H. “Where Do Cardinal Direction Terms Come From?” Anthropological Linguistics 25.2 (1983): 121–161. François, Alexandre. “Reconstructing the Geocentric System of Proto-Oceanic.” Oceanic Linguistics 43.1 (2004): 1–31. Gaby, Alice R. A Grammar of Kuuk Thaayorre. Vol. 74. Berlin: De Gruyter Mouton, 2017.Genz, Joseph. “Complementarity of Cognitive and Experiential Ways of Knowing the Ocean in Marshallese Navigation.” Ethos 42.3 (2014): 332–351.Lewis, David Henry. We, the Navigators: The Ancient Art of Landfinding in the Pacific. 2nd ed. Honolulu: University of Hawai'i Press, 1994. Lum, Jonathon. "Frames of Spatial Reference in Dhivehi Language and Cognition." PhD Thesis. Melbourne: Monash University, 2018. Majid, Asifa, et al. “Can Language Restructure Cognition? The Case for Space.” Trends in Cognitive Sciences 8.3 (2004): 108–114.OED Online. “North, Adv., Adj., and N.” Oxford English Dictionary. Oxford: Oxford University Press. <http://www.oed.com.ezproxy.lib.monash.edu.au/view/Entry/128325>.Palmer, Bill. “Absolute Spatial Reference and the Grammaticalisation of Perceptually Salient Phenomena.” Representing Space in Oceania: Culture in Language and Mind. Canberra: Pacific Linguistics, 2002. 107–133. ———, et al. "“Sociotopography: The Interplay of Language, Culture, and Environment.” Linguistic Typology 21.3 (2017). DOI:10.1515/lingty-2017-0011.Poulton, Thomas. “Exploring Space: Frame-of-Reference Selection in English.” Honours Thesis. Melbourne: Monash University, 2016.Ross, Malcolm D. “Talking about Space: Terms of Location and Direction.” The Lexicon of Proto-Oceanic: The Culture and Environment of Ancestral Oceanic Society: The Physical Environment. Eds. Malcolm D. Ross, Andrew Pawley, and Meredith Osmond. Vol. 2. Canberra: Pacific Linguistics, 2003. 229–294. Schlossberg, Jonathan. Atolls, Islands and Endless Suburbia: Spatial Reference in Marshallese. PhD thesis. Newcastle: University of Newcastle, in preparation.

All history of this area and the general talk and all of that is that 1973 was a turning point and the Aquarius Festival is credited with having turned this region around in so many ways, but I think that is a myth ... and I have to honour the truth; and the truth is that old Dicke Donelly came and did a Welcome to Country the night before the festival. (Joseph in Joseph and Hanley)In 1973 the Australian Union of Students (AUS) held the Aquarius Arts and Lifestyle Festival in a small, rural New South Wales town called Nimbin. The festival was seen as the peak expression of Australian counterculture and is attributed to creating the “Rainbow Region”, an area with a concentration of alternative life stylers in Northern NSW (Derrett 28). While the Aquarius Festival is recognised as a founding historical and countercultural event, the unique and important relationships established with Indigenous people at this time are generally less well known. This article investigates claims that the 1973 Aquarius Festival was “the first event in Australian history that sought permission for the use of the land from the Traditional Owners” (Joseph and Hanley). The diverse international, national and local conditions that coalesced at the Aquarius Festival suggest a fertile environment was created for reconciliatory bonds to develop. Often dismissed as a “tree hugging, soap dodging movement,” the counterculture was radically politicised having sprung from the 1960s social revolutions when the world witnessed mass demonstrations that confronted war, racism, sexism and capitalism. Primarily a youth movement, it was characterised by flamboyant dress, music, drugs and mass gatherings with universities forming the epicentre and white, middle class youth leading the charge. As their ideals of changing the world were frustrated by lack of systematic change, many decided to disengage and a migration to rural settings occurred (Jacob; Munro-Clarke; Newton). In the search for alternatives, the counterculture assimilated many spiritual practices, such as Eastern traditions and mysticism, which were previously obscure to the Western world. This practice of spiritual syncretism can be represented as a direct resistance to the hegemony of the dominant Western culture (Stell). As the new counterculture developed, its progression from urban to rural settings was driven by philosophies imbued with a desire to reconnect with and protect the natural world while simultaneously rejecting the dominant conservative order. A recurring feature of this countercultural ‘back to the land’ migration was not only an empathetic awareness of the injustices of colonial past, but also a genuine desire to learn from the Indigenous people of the land. Indigenous people were generally perceived as genuine opposers of Westernisation, inherently spiritual, ecological, tribal and communal, thus encompassing the primary values to which the counterculture was aspiring (Smith). Cultures converged. One, a youth culture rebelling from its parent culture; the other, ancient cultures reeling from the historical conquest by the youths’ own ancestors. Such cultural intersections are rich with complex scenarios and politics. As a result, often naïve, but well-intended relations were established with Native Americans, various South American Indigenous peoples, New Zealand Maori and, as this article demonstrates, the Original People of Australia (Smith; Newton; Barr-Melej; Zolov). The 1960s protest era fostered the formation of groups aiming to address a variety of issues, and at times many supported each other. Jennifer Clarke says it was the Civil Rights movement that provided the first models of dissent by formulating a “method, ideology and language of protest” as African Americans stood up and shouted prior to other movements (2). The issue of racial empowerment was not lost on Australia’s Indigenous population. Clarke writes that during the 1960s, encouraged by events overseas and buoyed by national organisation, Aborigines “slowly embarked on a political awakening, demanded freedom from the trappings of colonialism and responded to the effects of oppression at worst and neglect at best” (4). Activism of the 1960s had the “profoundly productive effect of providing Aborigines with the confidence to assert their racial identity” (159). Many Indigenous youth were compelled by the zeitgeist to address their people’s issues, fulfilling Charlie Perkins’s intentions of inspiring in Indigenous peoples a will to resist (Perkins). Enjoying new freedoms of movement out of missions, due to the 1967 Constitutional change and the practical implementation of the assimilation policy, up to 32,000 Indigenous youth moved to Redfern, Sydney between 1967 and 1972 (Foley, “An Evening With”). Gary Foley reports that a dynamic new Black Power Movement emerged but the important difference between this new younger group and the older Indigenous leaders of the day was the diverse range of contemporary influences. Taking its mantra from the Black Panther movement in America, though having more in common with the equivalent Native American Red Power movement, the Black Power Movement acknowledged many other international struggles for independence as equally inspiring (Foley, “An Evening”). People joined together for grassroots resistance, formed anti-hierarchical collectives and established solidarities between varied groups who previously would have had little to do with each other. The 1973 Aquarius Festival was directly aligned with “back to the land” philosophies. The intention was to provide a place and a reason for gathering to “facilitate exchanges on survival techniques” and to experience “living in harmony with the natural environment.” without being destructive to the land (Dunstan, “A Survival Festival”). Early documents in the archives, however, reveal no apparent interest in Australia’s Indigenous people, referring more to “silken Arabian tents, mediaeval banners, circus, jugglers and clowns, peace pipes, maypole and magic circles” (Dunstan, “A Survival Festival”). Obliterated from the social landscape and minimally referred to in the Australian education system, Indigenous people were “off the radar” to the majority mindset, and the Australian counterculture similarly was slow to appreciate Indigenous culture. Like mainstream Australia, the local counterculture movement largely perceived the “race” issue as something occurring in other countries, igniting the phrase “in your own backyard” which became a catchcry of Indigenous activists (Foley, “Whiteness and Blackness”) With no mention of any Indigenous interest, it seems likely that the decision to engage grew from the emerging climate of Indigenous activism in Australia. Frustrated by student protestors who seemed oblivious to local racial issues, focusing instead on popular international injustices, Indigenous activists accused them of hypocrisy. Aquarius Festival directors, found themselves open to similar accusations when public announcements elicited a range of responses. Once committed to the location of Nimbin, directors Graeme Dunstan and Johnny Allen began a tour of Australian universities to promote the upcoming event. While at the annual conference of AUS in January 1973 at Monash University, Dunstan met Indigenous activist Gary Foley: Gary witnessed the presentation of Johnny Allen and myself at the Aquarius Foundation session and our jubilation that we had agreement from the village residents to not only allow, but also to collaborate in the production of the Festival. After our presentation which won unanimous support, it was Gary who confronted me with the question “have you asked permission from local Aboriginal folk?” This threw me into confusion because we had seen no Aboriginals in Nimbin. (Dunstan, e-mail) Such a challenge came at a time when the historical climate was etched with political activism, not only within the student movement, but more importantly with Indigenous activists’ recent demonstrations, such as the installation in 1972 of the Tent Embassy in Canberra. As representatives of the counterculture movement, which was characterised by its inclinations towards consciousness-raising, AUS organisers were ethically obliged to respond appropriately to the questions about Indigenous permission and involvement in the Aquarius Festival at Nimbin. In addition to this political pressure, organisers in Nimbin began hearing stories of the area being cursed or taboo for women. This most likely originated from the tradition of Nimbin Rocks, a rocky outcrop one kilometre from Nimbin, as a place where only certain men could go. Jennifer Hoff explains that many major rock formations were immensely sacred places and were treated with great caution and respect. Only a few Elders and custodians could visit these places and many such locations were also forbidden for women. Ceremonies were conducted at places like Nimbin Rocks to ensure the wellbeing of all tribespeople. Stories of the Nimbin curse began to spread and most likely captivated a counterculture interested in mysticism. As organisers had hoped that news of the festival would spread on the “lips of the counterculture,” they were alarmed to hear how “fast the bad news of this curse was travelling” (Dunstan, e-mail). A diplomatic issue escalated with further challenges from the Black Power community when organisers discovered that word had spread to Sydney’s Indigenous community in Redfern. Organisers faced a hostile reaction to their alleged cultural insensitivity and were plagued by negative publicity with accusations the AUS were “violating sacred ground” (Janice Newton 62). Faced with such bad press, Dunstan was determined to repair what was becoming a public relations disaster. It seemed once prompted to the path, a sense of moral responsibility prevailed amongst the organisers and they took the unprecedented step of reaching out to Australia’s Indigenous people. Dunstan claimed that an expedition was made to the local Woodenbong mission to consult with Elder, Uncle Lyle Roberts. To connect with local people required crossing the great social divide present in that era of Australia’s history. Amy Nethery described how from the nineteenth century to the 1960s, a “system of reserves, missions and other institutions isolated, confined and controlled Aboriginal people” (9). She explains that the people were incarcerated as a solution to perceived social problems. For Foley, “the widespread genocidal activity of early “settlement” gave way to a policy of containment” (Foley, “Australia and the Holocaust”). Conditions on missions were notoriously bad with alcoholism, extreme poverty, violence, serious health issues and depression common. Of particular concern to mission administrators was the perceived need to keep Indigenous people separate from the non-indigenous population. Dunstan described the mission he visited as having “bad vibes.” He found it difficult to communicate with the elderly man, and was not sure if he understood Dunstan’s quest, as his “responses came as disjointed raves about Jesus and saving grace” (Dunstan, e-mail). Uncle Lyle, he claimed, did not respond affirmatively or negatively to the suggestion that Nimbin was cursed, and so Dunstan left assuming it was not true. Other organisers began to believe the curse and worried that female festival goers might get sick or worse, die. This interpretation reflected, as Vanessa Bible argues, a general Eurocentric misunderstanding of the relationship of Indigenous peoples with the land. Paul Joseph admits they were naïve whites coming into a place with very little understanding, “we didn’t know if we needed a witch doctor or what we needed but we knew we needed something from the Aborigines to lift the spell!”(Joseph and Hanley). Joseph, one of the first “hippies” who moved to the area, had joined forces with AUS organisers. He said, “it just felt right” to get Indigenous involvement and recounted how organisers made another trip to Woodenbong Mission to find Dickee (Richard) Donnelly, a Song Man, who was very happy to be invited. Whether the curse was valid or not it proved to be productive in further instigating respectful action. Perhaps feeling out of their depth, the organisers initiated another strategy to engage with Australian Indigenous people. A call out was sent through the AUS network to diversify the cultural input and it was recommended they engage the services of South African artist, Bauxhau Stone. Timing aligned well as in 1972 Australia had voted in a new Prime Minister, Gough Whitlam. Whitlam brought about significant political changes, many in response to socialist protests that left a buoyancy in the air for the counterculturalist movement. He made prodigious political changes in support of Indigenous people, including creating the Aboriginal Arts Board as part of the Australian Council of the Arts (ACA). As the ACA were already funding activities for the Aquarius Festival, organisers were successful in gaining two additional grants specifically for Indigenous participation (Farnham). As a result We were able to hire […] representatives, a couple of Kalahari bushmen. ‘Cause we were so dumb, we didn’t think we could speak to the black people, you know what I mean, we thought we would be rejected, or whatever, so for us to really reach out, we needed somebody black to go and talk to them, or so we thought, and it was remarkable. This one Bau, a remarkable fellow really, great artist, great character, he went all over Australia. He went to Pitjantjatjara, Yirrkala and we arranged buses and tents when they got here. We had a very large contingent of Aboriginal people come to the Aquarius Festival, thanks to Whitlam. (Joseph in Joseph and Henley) It was under the aegis of these government grants that Bauxhau Stone conducted his work. Stone embodied a nexus of contemporary issues. Acutely aware of the international movement for racial equality and its relevance to Australia, where conditions were “really appalling”, Stone set out to transform Australian race relations by engaging with the alternative arts movement (Stone). While his white Australian contemporaries may have been unaccustomed to dealing with the Indigenous racial issue, Stone was actively engaged and thus well suited to act as a cultural envoy for the Aquarius Festival. He visited several local missions, inviting people to attend and notifying them of ceremonies being conducted by respected Elders. Nimbin was then the site of the Aquarius Lifestyle and Celebration Festival, a two week gathering of alternative cultures, technologies and youth. It innovatively demonstrated its diversity of influences, attracted people from all over the world and was the first time that the general public really witnessed Australia’s counterculture (Derrett 224). As markers of cultural life, counterculture festivals of the 1960s and 1970s were as iconic as the era itself and many around the world drew on the unique Indigenous heritage of their settings in some form or another (Partridge; Perone; Broadley and Jones; Zolov). The social phenomenon of coming together to experience, celebrate and foster a sense of unity was triggered by protests, music and a simple, yet deep desire to reconnect with each other. Festivals provided an environment where the negative social pressures of race, gender, class and mores (such as clothes) were suspended and held the potential “for personal and social transformation” (St John 167). With the expressed intent to “take matters into our own hands” and try to develop alternative, innovative ways of doing things with collective participation, the Aquarius Festival thus became an optimal space for reinvigorating ancient and Indigenous ways (Dunstan, “A Survival Festival”). With philosophies that venerated collectivism, tribalism, connecting with the earth, and the use of ritual, the Indigenous presence at the Aquarius Festival gave attendees the opportunity to experience these values. To connect authentically with Nimbin’s landscape, forming bonds with the Traditional Owners was essential. Participants were very fortunate to have the presence of the last known initiated men of the area, Uncle Lyle Roberts and Uncle Dickee Donnely. These Elders represented the last vestiges of an ancient culture and conducted innovative ceremonies, song, teachings and created a sacred fire for the new youth they encountered in their land. They welcomed the young people and were very happy for their presence, believing it represented a revolutionary shift (Wedd; King; John Roberts; Cecil Roberts). Images 1 and 2: Ceremony and talks conducted at the Aquarius Festival (people unknown). Photographs reproduced by permission of photographer and festival attendee Paul White. The festival thus provided an important platform for the regeneration of cultural and spiritual practices. John Roberts, nephew of Uncle Lyle, recalled being surprised by the reaction of festival participants to his uncle: “He was happy and then he started to sing. And my God … I couldn’t get near him! There was this big ring of hippies around him. They were about twenty deep!” Sharing to an enthusiastic, captive audience had a positive effect and gave the non-indigenous a direct Indigenous encounter (Cecil Roberts; King; Oshlak). Estimates of the number of Indigenous people in attendance vary, with the main organisers suggesting 800 to 1000 and participants suggesting 200 to 400 (Stone; Wedd; Oshlak: Joseph; King; Cecil Roberts). As the Festival lasted over a two week period, many came and left within that time and estimates are at best reliant on memory, engagement and perspectives. With an estimated total attendance at the Festival between 5000 and 10,000, either number of Indigenous attendees is symbolic and a significant symbolic statistic for Indigenous and non-indigenous to be together on mutual ground in Australia in 1973. Images 3-5: Performers from Yirrkala Dance Group, brought to the festival by Stone with funding from the Federal Government. Photographs reproduced by permission of photographer and festival attendee Dr Ian Cameron. For Indigenous people, the event provided an important occasion to reconnect with their own people, to share their culture with enthusiastic recipients, as well as the chance to experience diverse aspects of the counterculture. Though the northern NSW region has a history of diverse cultural migration of Italian and Indian families, the majority of non-indigenous and Indigenous people had limited interaction with cosmopolitan influences (Kijas 20). Thus Nimbin was a conservative region and many Christianised Indigenous people were also conservative in their outlook. The Aquarius Festival changed that as the Indigenous people experienced the wide-ranging cultural elements of the alternative movement. The festival epitomised countercultural tendencies towards flamboyant fashion and hairstyles, architectural design, fantastical art, circus performance, Asian clothes and religious products, vegetarian food and nudity. Exposure to this bohemian culture would have surely led to “mind expansion and consciousness raising,” explicit aims adhered to by the movement (Roszak). Performers and participants from Africa, America and India also gave attending Indigenous Australians the opportunity to interact with non-European cultures. Many people interviewed for this paper indicated that Indigenous people’s reception of this festival experience was joyous. For Australia’s early counterculture, interest in Indigenous Australia was limited and for organisers of the AUS Aquarius Festival, it was not originally on the agenda. The counterculture in the USA and New Zealand had already started to engage with their Indigenous people some years earlier. However due to the Aquarius Festival’s origins in the student movement and its solidarities with the international Indigenous activist movement, they were forced to shift their priorities. The coincidental selection of a significant spiritual location at Nimbin to hold the festival brought up additional challenges and countercultural intrigue with mystical powers and a desire to connect authentically to the land, further prompted action. Essentially, it was the voices of empowered Indigenous activists, like Gary Foley, which in fact triggered the reaching out to Indigenous involvement. While the counterculture organisers were ultimately receptive and did act with unprecedented respect, credit must be given to Indigenous activists. The activist’s role is to trigger action and challenge thinking and in this case, it was ultimately productive. Therefore the Indigenous people were not merely passive recipients of beneficiary goodwill, but active instigators of appropriate cultural exchange. After the 1973 festival many attendees decided to stay in Nimbin to purchase land collectively and a community was born. Relationships established with local Indigenous people developed further. Upon visiting Nimbin now, one will see a vibrant visual display of Indigenous and psychedelic themed art, a central park with an open fire tended by local custodians and other Indigenous community members, an Aboriginal Centre whose rent is paid for by local shopkeepers, and various expressions of a fusion of counterculture and Indigenous art, music and dance. While it appears that reconciliation became the aspiration for mainstream society in the 1990s, Nimbin’s early counterculture history had Indigenous reconciliation at its very foundation. The efforts made by organisers of the 1973 Aquarius Festival stand as one of very few examples in Australian history where non-indigenous Australians have respectfully sought to learn from Indigenous people and to assimilate their cultural practices. It also stands as an example for the world, of reconciliation, based on hippie ideals of peace and love. They encouraged the hippies moving up here, even when they came out for Aquarius, old Uncle Lyle and Richard Donnelly, they came out and they blessed the mob out here, it was like the hairy people had come back, with the Nimbin, cause the Nimbynji is the little hairy people, so the hairy people came back (Jerome). References Barr-Melej, Patrick. “Siloísmo and the Self in Allende’s Chile: Youth, 'Total Revolution,' and the Roots of the Humanist Movement.” Hispanic American Historical Review 86.4 (Nov. 2006): 747-784. Bible, Vanessa. Aquarius Rising: Terania Creek and the Australian Forest Protest Movement. BA (Honours) Thesis. University of New England, Armidale, 2010. Broadley, Colin, and Judith Jones, eds. Nambassa: A New Direction. Auckland: Reed, 1979. Bryant, Gordon M. Parliament of Australia. Minister for Aboriginal Affairs. 1 May 1973. Australian Union of Students. Records of the AUS, 1934-1991. National Library of Australia MS ACC GB 1992.0505. Cameron, Ian. “Aquarius Festival Photographs.” 1973. Clarke, Jennifer. Aborigines and Activism: Race, Aborigines and the Coming of the Sixties to Australia. Crawley: University of Western Australia Press, 2008. Derrett, Ross. Regional Festivals: Nourishing Community Resilience: The Nature and Role of Cultural Festivals in Northern Rivers NSW Communities. PhD Thesis. Southern Cross University, Lismore, 2008. Dunstan, Graeme. “A Survival Festival May 1973.” 1 Aug. 1972. Pamphlet. MS 6945/1. Nimbin Aquarius Festival Archives. National Library of Australia, Canberra. ---. E-mail to author, 11 July 2012. ---. “The Aquarius Festival.” Aquarius Rainbow Region. n.d. Farnham, Ken. Acting Executive Officer, Aboriginal Council for the Arts. 19 June 1973. Letter. MS ACC GB 1992.0505. Australian Union of Students. Records of the AUS, 1934-1991. National Library of Australia, Canberra. Foley, Gary. “Australia and the Holocaust: A Koori Perspective (1997).” The Koori History Website. n.d. 20 May 2013 ‹http://www.kooriweb.org/foley/essays/essay_8.html›. ---. “Whiteness and Blackness in the Koori Struggle for Self-Determination (1999).” The Koori History Website. n.d. 20 May 2013 ‹http://www.kooriweb.org/foley/essays/essay_9.html›. ---. “Black Power in Redfern 1968-1972 (2001).” The Koori History Website. n.d. 20 May 2013 ‹http://www.kooriweb.org/foley/essays/essay_1.html›. ---. “An Evening with Legendary Aboriginal Activist Gary Foley.” Conference Session. Marxism 2012 “Revolution in the Air”, Melbourne, Mar. 2012. Hoff, Jennifer. Bundjalung Jugun: Bundjalung Country. Lismore: Richmond River Historical Society, 2006. Jacob, Jeffrey. New Pioneers: The Back-to-the-Land Movement and the Search for a Sustainable Future. Pennsylvania: Penn State Press, 1997. Jerome, Burri. Interview. 31 July 2012. Joseph, Paul. Interview. 7 Aug. 2012. Joseph, Paul, and Brendan ‘Mookx’ Hanley. Interview by Rob Willis. 14 Aug. 2010. Audiofile, Session 2 of 3. nla.oh-vn4978025. Rob Willis Folklore Collection. National Library of Australia, Canberra. Kijas, Johanna, Caravans and Communes: Stories of Settling in the Tweed 1970s & 1980s. Murwillumbah: Tweed Shire Council, 2011. King, Vivienne (Aunty Viv). Interview. 1 Aug. 2012. Munro-Clarke, Margaret. Communes of Rural Australia: The Movement Since 1970. Sydney: Hale and Iremonger, 1986. Nethery, Amy. “Aboriginal Reserves: ‘A Modern-Day Concentration Camp’: Using History to Make Sense of Australian Immigration Detention Centres.” Does History Matter? Making and Debating Citizenship, Immigration and Refugee Policy in Australia and New Zealand. Eds. Klaus Neumann and Gwenda Tavan. Canberra: Australian National University Press, 2009. 4. Newton, Janice. “Aborigines, Tribes and the Counterculture.” Social Analysis 23 (1988): 53-71. Newton, John. The Double Rainbow: James K Baxter, Ngati Hau and the Jerusalem Commune. Wellington: Victoria University Press, 2009. Offord, Baden. “Mapping the Rainbow Region: Fields of Belonging and Sites of Confluence.” Transformations 2 (March 2002): 1-5. Oshlak, Al. Interview. 27 Mar. 2013. Partridge, Christopher. “The Spiritual and the Revolutionary: Alternative Spirituality, British Free Festivals, and the Emergence of Rave Culture.” Culture and Religion: An Interdisciplinary Journal 7 (2006): 3-5. Perkins, Charlie. “Charlie Perkins on 1965 Freedom Ride.” Youtube, 13 Oct. 2009. Perone, James E. Woodstock: An Encyclopedia of the Music and Art Fair. Greenwood: Greenwood Publishing Group, 2005. Roberts, John. Interview. 1 Aug. 2012. Roberts, Cecil. Interview. 6 Aug. 2012. Roszak, Theodore. The Making of a Counter Culture: Reflections on the Technocratic Society and Its Youthful Opposition. New York: University of California Press,1969. St John, Graham. “Going Feral: Authentica on the Edge of Australian culture.” The Australian Journal of Anthropology 8 (1997): 167-189. Smith, Sherry. Hippies, Indians and the Fight for Red Power. New York: Oxford University Press, 2012. Stell, Alex. Dancing in the Hyper-Crucible: The Rite de Passage of the Post-Rave Movement. BA (Honours) Thesis. University of Westminster, London, 2005. Stone, Trevor Bauxhau. Interview. 1 Oct. 2012. Wedd, Leila. Interview. 27 Sep. 2012. White, Paul. “Aquarius Revisited.” 1973. Zolov, Eric. Refried Elvis: The Rise of the Mexican Counterculture. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999.

Introduction This article is concerned with the recent rise in popularity of crypto art, the term given to digital artworks whose ownership and provenance are confirmed with a non-fungible token (NFT), making it possible to sell these works within decentralised cryptocurrency art markets. The goal of this analysis is to trace a genealogy of crypto art to Dada, an avant-garde movement that originated in the early twentieth century. My claim is that Dadaism in crypto art appears in its exhausted form that is a result of its revival in the 1950s and 1960s by the Neo Dada that reached the current age through Pop Art. Dada’s anti-art project of rejecting beauty and aesthetics has transformed into commercial success in the Neo Dada Pop Art movement. In turn, Pop Art produced its crypto version that explores not only the question of what art is and is not, but also when art becomes money. In what follows, I will provide a brief overview of NFT art and its three categories that could generally be found within crypto marketplaces: native crypto art, non-digital art, and digital distributed-creativity art. Throughout, I will foreground the presence of Dadaism in these artworks and provide art historical context. NFTs: Brief Overview A major technological component that made NFTs possible was developed in 1991, when cryptographers Stuart Haber and W. Scott Stornetta proposed a method for time-stamping data contained in digital documents shared within a distributed network of users (99). This work laid the foundation for what became known as blockchain and was further implemented in the development of Bitcoin, a digital currency invented by Satoshi Nakamoto in 2008. The original non-fungible tokens, Coloured Coins, were created in 2012. By “colouring” or differentiating bitcoins, Coloured Coins were assigned special properties and had a value independent of the underlying Bitcoin, allowing their use as commodity certificates, alternative currencies, and other financial instruments (Assia et al.). In 2014, fuelled by a motivation to protect digital artists from unsanctioned distribution of their work while also enabling digital art sales, media artist Kevin McCoy and tech entrepreneur Anil Dash saw the potential of blockchain to satisfy their goals and developed what became to be known as NFTs. This overnight invention was a result of McCoy and Dash’s participation in the Seven on Seven annual New York City event, a one-day creative collaboration that challenged seven pairs of artists and engineers to “make something” (Rhizome). McCoy and Dash did not patent their invention, nor were they able to popularise it, mentally archiving it as a “footnote in internet history”. Ironically, just a couple of years later NFTs exploded into a billion-dollar market, living up to an ironic name of “monetized graphics” that the pair gave to their invention. Crypto art became an international sensation in March 2021, when a digital artist Mike Winklemann, known as Beeple, sold his digital collage titled Everydays: The First 5000 Days for US$69.3 million, prompting Noah Davis, a curator who assisted with the sale at the Christie’s auction house, to proclaim: “he showed us this collage, and that was my eureka moment when I knew this was going to be extremely important. It was just so monumental and so indicative of what NFTs can do” (Kastrenakes). As a technology, a non-fungible token can create digital scarcity in an otherwise infinitely replicable digital space. Contrary to fungible tokens, which are easily interchangeable due to having an equal value, non-fungible tokens represent unique items for which one cannot find an equivalent. That is why we rely on the fungibility of money to exchange non-fungible unique goods, such as art. Employing non-fungible tokens allows owning and exchanging digital items outside of the context in which they originated. Now, one can prove one’s possession of a digital skin from a videogame, for example, and sell it on digital markets using crypto currency (“Bible”). Behind the technology of NFTs lies the use of a cryptographic hash function, which converts a digital artwork of any file size into a fixed-length hash, called message digest (Dooley 179). It is impossible to revert the process and arrive at the original image, a quality of non-reversibility that makes the hash function a perfect tool for creating a digital representation of an artwork proofed from data tampering. The issued or minted NFT enters a blockchain, a distributed database that too relies on cryptographic properties to guarantee fidelity and security of data stored. Once the NFT becomes a part of the blockchain, its transaction history is permanently recorded and publicly available. Thus, the NFT simultaneously serves as a unique representation of the artwork and a digital proof of ownership. NFTs are traded in digital marketplaces, such as SuperRare, KnownOrigin, OpenSea, and Rarible, which rely on a blockchain to sustain their operations. An analysis of these markets’ inventory can be summarised by the following list of roughly grouped types of artistic works available for purchase: native crypto art, non-digital art, distributed creativity art. Native Crypto Art In this category, I include projects that motivated the creation of NFT protocols. Among these projects are the aforementioned Colored Coins, created in 2012. These were followed by issuing other visual creations native to the crypto-world, such as LarvaLabs’s CryptoPunks, a series of 10,000 algorithmically generated 8-bit-style pixelated digital avatars originally available for free to anyone with an Ethereum blockchain account, gaining a cult status among the collectors when they became rare sought-after items. On 13 February 2022, CryptoPunk #5822 was sold for roughly $24 million in Ethereum, beating the previous record for such an NFT, CryptoPunk #3100, sold for $7.58 million. CryptoPunks laid the foundation for other collectible personal profile projects, such Bored Ape Yacht Club and Cool Cats. One of the ultimate collections of crypto art that demonstrates the exhaustion of original Dada motivations is titled Monas, an NFT project made up of 5,000 programmatically generated versions of a pixelated Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci (c. 1503-1506). Each Monas, according to the creators, is “a mix of Art, history, and references from iconic NFTs” (“Monas”). Monas are a potpourri of meme and pop culture, infused with inside jokes and utmost silliness. Monas invariably bring to mind the historic Dadaist gesture of challenging bourgeois tastes through defacing iconic art historical works, such as Marcel Duchamp’s treatment of Mona Lisa in L.H.O.O.Q. In 1919, Duchamp drew a moustache and a goatee on a reproduction of La Joconde, as the French called the painting, and inscribed “L.H.O.O.Q.” that when pronounced sounds like “Elle a chaud au cul”, a vulgar expression indicating sexual arousal of the subject. At the time of its creation, this Dada act was met with the utmost public contempt, as Mona Lisa was considered a sacred work of art and a patron of the arts, an almost religious symbol (Elger and Grosenick 82). Needless to say, the effect of Monas on public consciousness is far from causing disgust and, on the contrary, brings childish joy and giggles. As an NFT artist, Mankind, explains in his YouTube video on personal profile projects: “PFPs are built around what people enjoy. People enjoy memes, people enjoy status, people enjoy being a part of something bigger than themselves, the basic primary desire to mix digital with social and belong to a community”. Somehow, “being bigger than themselves” has come to involve collecting defaced images of Mona Lisa. Turning our attention to historical analysis will help trace this transformation of the Dada insult into a collectible NFT object. Dada and Its Legacy in Crypto Art Dada was founded in 1916 in Zurich, by Hugo Ball, Tristan Tzara, Hans Richter, and other artists who fled their homelands during the First World War (Hapgood and Rittner 63). One of Dada’s primary aspirations was to challenge the dominance of reason that brought about the tragedy of the First World War through attacking the postulates of culture this form of reason produced. Already in 1921, such artists as André Breton, Louis Aragon, and Max Ernst were becoming exhausted by Dada’s nihilist tendencies and rejection of all programmes for the arts, except for the one that called for the total freedom of expression. The movement was pronounced dead about May 1921, leaving no sense of regret since, in the words of Breton, “its omnipotence and its tyranny had made it intolerable” (205). An important event associated with Dada’s revival and the birth of the Neo Dada movement was the publication of The Dada Painters and Poets in 1951. This volume, the first collection of Dada writings in English and the most comprehensive anthology in any language, was introduced to the young artists at the New School by John Cage, who revived Tristan Tzara’s concept that “life is far more interesting” than art (Hapgood and Rittner 64). The 1950s were marked by a renewed interest in Dadaism that can also be evidenced in galleries and museums organising numerous exhibitions on the movement, such as Dada 1916 –1923 curated by Marcel Duchamp at the Sidney Janis Gallery in 1953. By the end of the decade, such artists as Jasper Johns and Robert Rauschenberg began exploring materials and techniques that can be attributed to Dadaism, which prompted the title of Neo Dada to describe this thematic return (Hapgood and Rittner 64). Among the artistic approaches that Neo Dada borrowed from Dada are Duchampian readymades that question the status of the art object, Kurt Schwitters’s collage technique of incorporating often banal scraps and pieces of the everyday, and the use of chance operations as a compositional device (Hapgood and Rittner 63–64). These approaches comprise the toolbox of crypto artists as well. Monas, CryptoPunks, and Bored Ape Yacht Club are digital collages made of scraps of pop culture and the everyday Internet life assembled into compositional configurations through chance operation made possible by the application of algorithmic generation of the images in each series. Art historian Helen Molesworth sees the strategies of montage, the readymade, and chance not only as “mechanisms for making art objects” but also as “abdications of traditional forms of artistic labor” (178). Molesworth argues that Duchamp’s invention of the readymade “substituted the act of (artistic) production with consumption” and “profoundly questioned the role, stability, nature, and necessity of the artist’s labor” (179). Together with questioning the need for artistic labour, Neo Dadaists inherited what an American art historian Jack D. Flam terms the “anything goes” attitude: Dada’s liberating destruction of rules and derision of art historical canon allowed anything and everything to be considered art (xii). The “anything goes” approach can also be traced to the contemporary crypto artists, such as Beeple, whose Everydays: The First 5000 Days was a result of assembling into a collage the first 5,000 of his daily training sketches created while teaching himself new digital tools (Kastrenakes). When asked whether he genuinely liked any of his images, Beeple explained that most digital art was created by teams of people working over the course of days or even weeks. When he “is pooping something out in 45 minutes”, it “is probably not gonna look that great comparatively” (Cieplak-Mayr von Baldegg). At the core of Dada was a spirit of absurdism that drove an attack on the social, political, artistic, and philosophical norms, constituting a radical movement against the Establishment (Flam xii). In Dada Art and Anti-Art, Hans Richter’s personal historical account of the Dada movement, the artist describes the basic principle of Dada as guided by a motivation “to outrage public opinion” (66). Richter’s writings also point out a desensitisation towards Dada provocations that the public experienced as a result of Dada’s repetitive assaults, demanding an invention of new methods to disgrace the public taste. Richter recounts: our exhibitions were not enough. Not everyone in Zurich came to look at our pictures, attending our meetings, read our poems and manifestos. The devising and raising of public hell was an essential function of any Dada movement, whether its goal was pro-art, non-art or anti-art. And the public (like insects or bacteria) had developed immunity to one of kind poison, we had to think of another. (66) Richter’s account paints a cultural environment in which new artistic provocations mutate into accepted norms in a quick succession, forming a public body that is immune to anti-art “poisons”. In the foreword to Dada Painters and Poets, Flam outlines a trajectory of acceptance and subjugation of the Dadaist spirit by the subsequent revival of the movement’s core values in the Neo Dada of the 1950s and 1960s. When Dadaism was rediscovered by the writers and artists in the 1950s, the Dada spirit characterised by absurdist irony, self-parody, and deadpan realism was becoming a part of everyday life, as if art entered life and transformed it in its own image. The Neo Dada artists, such as Jasper Johns, Robert Rauschenberg, Claes Oldenburg, Roy Lichtenstein, and Andy Warhol, existed in a culturally pluralistic space where the project of a rejection of the Establishment was quickly absorbed into the mainstream, mutating into the high culture it was supposedly criticising and bringing commercial success of which the original Dada artists would have been deeply ashamed (Flam xiii). Raoul Hausmann states: “Dada fell like a raindrop from heaven. The Neo-Dadaists have learnt to imitate the fall, but not the raindrop” (as quoted in Craft 129). With a similar sentiment, Richard Huelsenbeck writes: “Neo-Dada has turned the weapons used by Dada, and later by Surrealism, into popular ploughshares with which to till the fertile soil of sensation-hungry galleries eager for business” (as quoted in Craft 130). Marcel Duchamp, the forefather of the avant-garde, comments on the loss of Dada’s original intent: this Neo-Dada, which they call New Realism, Pop Art, Assemblage, etc., is an easy way out, and lives on what Dada did. When I discovered ready-mades I thought to discourage aesthetics. In Neo-Dada they have taken my ready-mades and found aesthetic beauty in them. I threw the bottle-rack and the urinal into their faces as a challenge and now they admire them for their aesthetic beauty. (Flam xiii) In Neo Dada, the original anti-art impulse of Dadaism was converted into its opposite, becoming an artistic stance and a form of aesthetics. Flam notes that these gradual transformations resulted in the shifts in public consciousness, which it was becoming more difficult to insult. Artists, among them Roy Lichtenstein, complained that it was becoming impossible to make anything despicable: even a dirty rug could be admired (Flam xiii). The audience lost their ability to understand when they were being mocked, attacked, or challenged. Writing in 1981, Flam proclaimed that “Dada spirit has become an inescapable condition of modern life” (xiv). I contend that the current crypto art thrives on the Dada spirit of absurdism, irony, and self-parody and continues to question the border between art and non-art, while fully subscribing to the “anything goes” approach. In the current iteration of Dada in the crypto world, the original subversive narrative can be mostly found in the liberating rhetoric promoted by the proponents of the decentralised economic system. While Neo Dada understood the futility of shocking the public and questioning their tastes, crypto art is ignorant of the original Dada as a form of outrage, a revolutionary movement ignited by a social passion. In crypto art, the ambiguous relationship that Pop Art, one of the Neo Dada movements, had with commercial success is transformed into the content of the artworks. As Tristan Tzara laconically explained, the Dada project was to “assassinate beauty” and with it all the infrastructure of the art market (as quoted in Danto 39). Ironically, crypto artists, the descendants of Dada, erected the monument to Value artificially created through scarcity made possible by blockchain technology in place of the denigrated Venus demolished by the Dadaists. After all, it is the astronomical prices for crypto art that are lauded the most. If in the pre-NFT age, artistic works were evaluated based on their creative merit that included considering the prominence of the artist within art historical canon, current crypto art is evaluated based on its rareness, to which the titles of the crypto art markets SuperRare and Rarible unambiguously refer (Finucane 28–29). In crypto art, the anti-art and anti-commercialism of Dada has fully transformed into its opposite. Another evidence for considering crypto art to be a descendant of Dada is the NFT artists’ concern for the question of what art is and is not, brought to the table by the original Dada artists. This concern is expressed in the manifesto-like mission statement of the first Museum of Crypto Art: at its core, the Museum of Crypto Art (M○C△) challenges, creates conflict, provokes. M○C△ puts forward a broad representation of perspectives meant to upend our sense of who we are. It poses two questions: “what is art?” and “who decides?” We aim to resolve these questions through a multi-stakeholder decentralized platform of art curation and exhibition. (The Museum of Crypto Art) In the past, the question regarding the definition of art was overtaken by the proponent of the institutional approach to art definition, George Dickie, who besides excluding aesthetics from playing a part in differentiating art from non-art famously pronounced that an artwork created by a monkey is art if it is displayed in an art institution, and non-art if it is displayed elsewhere (Dickie 256). This development might explain why decentralisation of the art market achieved through the use of blockchain technology still relies on the endorsing of the art being sold by the widely acclaimed art auction houses: with their stamp of approval, the work is christened as legitimate art, resulting in astronomical sales. Non-Digital Art It is not surprising that an NFT marketplace is an inviting arena for the investigation of questions of commercialisation tackled in the works of Neo Dada Pop artists, who made their names in the traditional art world. This brings us to a discussion of the second type of artworks found in NFT marketplaces: non-digital art sold as NFT and created by trained visual artists, such as Damien Hirst. In his recent NFT project titled Currency, Hirst explores “the boundaries of art and currency—when art changes and becomes a currency, and when currency becomes art” (“The Currency”). The project consists of 10,000 artworks on A4 paper covered in small, coloured dots, a continuation of the so-called “spot-paintings” series that Hirst and his assistants have been producing since the 1980s. Each artwork is painted on a hand-made paper that bears the watermark of the artist’s bust, adorned with a microdot that serves as a unique identification, and is made to look very similar to the others—visual devices used to highlight the ambiguous state of these artworks that simultaneously function as Hirst-issued currency. For Hirst, this project is an experiment: after the purchase of NFTs, buyers are given an opportunity to exchange the NFT for the original art, safely stored in a UK vault; the unexchanged artworks will be burned. Is art going to fully transform into currency? Will you save it? In Hirst’s project, the transformation of physical art into crypto value becomes the ultimate act of Dada nihilism, except for one big difference: if Dada wanted to destroy art as a way to invent it anew, Hirst destroys art to affirm its death and dissolution in currency. In an ironic gesture, the gif NFT artist Nino Arteiro, as if in agreement with Hirst, attempts to sell his work titled Art Is Not Synonymous of Profit, which contains a crudely written text “ART ≠ PROFIT!” for 0.13 Ether or US$350. Buying this art will negate its own statement and affirm its analogy with money. Distributed-Creativity Art When browsing through crypto art advertised in the crypto markets, one inevitably encounters works that stand out in their emphasis on aesthetic and formal qualities. More often than not, these works are created with the use of Artificial Intelligence (AI). To a viewer bombarded with creations unconcerned with the concept of beauty, these AI works may serve as a sensory aesthetic refuge. Among the most prominent artists working in this realm is Refik Anadol, whose Synthetic Dreams series at a first glance may appear as carefully composed works of a landscape painter. However, at a closer look nodal connections between points in rendered space provide a hint at the use of algorithmic processes. These attractive landscapes are quantum AI data paintings created from a data set consisting of 200 million raw images of landscapes from around the world, with each image having been computed with a unique quantum bit string (“Synthetic Dreams”). Upon further contemplation, Anadol’s work begins to remind of the sublime Romantic landscapes, revamped through the application of AI that turned fascination with nature’s unboundedness into awe in the face of the unfathomable amounts of data used in creation of Anadol’s works. These creations can be seen as a reaction against the crypto art I call exhausted Dada, or a marketing approach that targets a different audience. In either case, Anadol revives aesthetic concern and aligns himself with the history of sublimity in art that dates back to the writings of Longinus, becoming of prime importance in the nineteenth-century Romantic painting, and finding new expressions in what is considered the technological sublime, which, according to David E. Nye. concentrates “on the triumph of machines… over space and time” (as quoted in Butler et al. 8). In relation to his Nature Dreams project, Anadol writes: “the exhibition’s eponymous, sublime AI Data Sculpture, Nature Dreams utilizes over 300 million publicly available photographs of nature collected between 2018- 2021 at Refik Anadol Studio” (“Machine Hallucinations Nature Dreams”). From this short description it is evident that Anadol’s primary focus is on the sublimity of large sets of data. There is an issue with that approach: since experiencing the sublime involves loss of rational thinking (Longinus 1.4), these artworks cease the viewer’s ability to interrogate cultural adaptation of AI technology and stay within the realm of decorative ornamentations, demanding an intervention akin to that brought about by the historical avant-garde. Conclusions I hope that this brief analysis demonstrates the mechanisms by which the strains of Dada entered the vocabulary of crypto artists. It is probably also noticeable that I equate the nihilist project of the exhausted Dada found in such works as Hirst’s Cryptocurrency with a dead end similar to so many other dead ends in art history—one only needs to remember that the death of painting was announced a myriad of times, and yet it is still alive. Each announcement of its death was followed by its radiant return. It could be that using art as a visual package for monetary value, a death statement to art’s capacity to affect human lives, will ignite artists to affirm art’s power to challenge, inspire, and enrich. References Assia, Yoni et al. “Colored Coins Whitepaper.” 2012-13. <https://docs.google.com/document/d/1AnkP_cVZTCMLIzw4DvsW6M8Q2JC0lIzrTLuoWu2z1BE/edit>. Breton, André. “Three Dada Manifestoes, before 1924.” The Dada Painters and Poets: An Anthology, Ed. Robert Motherwell, Cambridge, Mass: Belknap Press of Harvard UP, 1989. 197–206. Butler, Rebecca P., and Benjamin J. Butler. “Examples of the American Technological Sublime.” TechTrends 57.1 (2013): 9–10. Craft, Catherine Anne. Constellations of Past and Present: (Neo-) Dada, the Avant- Garde, and the New York Art World, 1951-1965. 1996. PhD dissertation. University of Texas at Austin. Cieplak-Mayr von Baldegg, Kasia. “Creativity Is Hustle: Make Something Every Day.” The Atlantic, 7 Oct. 2011. 12 July 2021 <https://www.theatlantic.com/video/archive/2011/10/creativity-is-hustle-make-something-every-day/246377/#slide15>. Danto, Arthur Coleman. The Abuse of Beauty: Aesthetics and the Concept of Art. Chicago, Ill: Open Court, 2006. Dash, Anil. “NFTs Weren’t Supposed to End like This.” The Atlantic, 2 Apr. 2021. 16 Apr. 2022 <https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2021/04/nfts-werent-supposed-end-like/618488/>. Dickie, George. “Defining Art.” American Philosophical Quarterly 6.3 (1969): 253–256. Dooley, John F. History of Cryptography and Cryptanalysis: Codes, Ciphers, and Their Algorithms. Cham: Springer, 2018. Elder, R. Bruce. Dada, Surrealism, and the Cinematic Effect. Waterloo: Wilfried Laurier UP, 2015. Elger, Dietmar, and Uta Grosenick. Dadaism. Köln: Taschen, 2004. Flam, Jack. “Foreword”. The Dada Painters and Poets: An Anthology. Ed. Robert Motherwell. Cambridge, Mass: Belknap Press of Harvard UP, 1989. xi–xiv. Finucane, B.P. Creating with Blockchain Technology: The ‘Provably Rare’ Possibilities of Crypto Art. 2018. Master’s thesis. University of British Columbia. Haber, Stuart, and W. Scott Stornetta. “How to Time-Stamp a Digital Document.” Journal of Cryptology 3.2 (1991): 99–111. Hapgood, Susan, and Jennifer Rittner. “Neo-Dada: Redefining Art, 1958-1962.” Performing Arts Journal 17.1 (1995): 63–70. Kastrenakes, Jacob. “Beeple Sold an NFT for $69 million: Through a First-of-Its-Kind Auction at Christie’s.” The Verge, 11 Mar. 2021. 14 July 2021 <https://www.theverge.com/2021/3/11/22325054/beeple-christies-nft-sale-cost-everydays-69-million>. Longinus. On the Sublime. Lewiston/Queenston: Edwin Mellen, 1987. Mankind, “What Are PFP NFTs”. YouTube. 2 Feb. 2022 <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Drh_fAV4XNM>. “Machine Hallucinations.” Refik Anadol. 20 Jan. 2022 <https://refikanadol.com/works/machine-hallucination/>. “Machine Hallucinations Nature Dreams.” Refik Anadol. 18 Apr. 2022 <https://refikanadol.com/works/machine-hallucinations-nature-dreams/>. Molesworth, Helen. “From Dada to Neo-Dada and Back Again.” October 105 (2003): 177–181. “Monas”. OpenSea. 17 Feb. 2022 <https://opensea.io/collection/monas>. Museum of Crypto Art. 23 Jan. 2022 <https://museumofcryptoart.com/>. Nakamoto, Satoshi. “Bitcoin: A Peer-to-Peer Electronic Cash System.” 2008. <https://bitcoin.org/bitcoin.pdf>. Richter, Hans. Dada: Art and Anti-Art. London: Thames and Hudson, 2016. Rhizome. “Seven on Seven 2019.” rhizome.org, 26 Mar. 2019. 16 Apr. 2022 <https://rhizome.org/editorial/2019/mar/26/announcing-seven-on-seven-2019-participants-details/>. “Synthetic Dreams.” OpenSea. 23 Jan. 2022 <https://opensea.io/collection/synthetic-dreams>. “The Currency.” OpenSea. 15 Feb. 2022 <https://opensea.io/collection/thecurrency>. “The Non-Fungible Token Bible: Everything You Need to Know about NFTs.” OpenSea Blog, 10 Jan. 2020. 10 June 2021 <https://blog.opensea.io/guides/non-fungible-tokens/>.

This thesis reports findings from a survey comparing the use of internal and external information services by business persons in the City of Brisbane. The Business Information: an investigation of its sources and use survey was undertaken on behalf of Queensland University of Technology (QUT) Library's Expert Information Service. The study made steps towards the understanding of not only where information is currently sourced, but also why business people prefer the services they currently use to source their information needs. The study has corroborated previous studies into business people's use of information resources and has achieved a better understanding of information use patterns and the potential future role of libraries and library based Fee Based Information Service (FBIS) units. Comparative case studies were undertaken to understand the Australian FBIS environment. FBIS's have developed within the Australian library environment to serve the information needs of business people. They have also developed out of a drive to provide income generation, independent of government funding, for the library that establishes the FBIS. Libraries and FBIS units have resources and expertise of potential value to business people; however, business people still lack an awareness of available information services and resources in general, and specifically in libraries or FBIS units. The main findings of this survey are that: (1) Architects and Small Business Managers are primary markets for FBIS units; (2) The main sources of information currently accessed to make business decisions are internal information services and professional associations; (3) External information service units are favoured for their ability to provide information searching and patents & standards access; (4) The Internet is currently used more than any other electronic form of information resource and an increase is expected in daily and weekly use; (5) Information overload and a lack of time to search for information are major concerns to business people; (6) The majority of respondents have never used a library based FBIS; and (7) Almost 50% of business people report that they have difficulty with not having a budget to acquire information and approximately 35% have no authority to purchase information. Overall the findings suggest that FBIS units should aim to understand the commercial paradigm, providing accurate, timely and up-to-date information for their clients in the most convenient and specific manner possible. The research findings suggest a number of implications for practice for FBIS units, as well as for libraries in Australia.

The Toulon-Verona Conference was founded in 1998 by prof. Claudio Baccarani of the University of Verona, Italy, and prof. Michel Weill of the University of Toulon, France. It has been organized each year in a different place in Europe in cooperation with a host university (Toulon 1998, Verona 1999, Derby 2000, Mons 2001, Lisbon 2002, Oviedo 2003, Toulon 2004, Palermo 2005, Paisley 2006, Thessaloniki 2007, Florence, 2008). Originally focusing on higher education institutions, the research themes have over the years been extended to the health sector, local government, tourism, logistics, banking services. Around a hundred delegates from about twenty different countries participate each year and nearly one thousand research papers have been published over the last ten years, making of the conference one of the major events in the field of quality in services.

A Monetary Hope for Europe. This book studies the euro in a global perspective and opens a new series edited by the Jean Monnet European Centre of Excellence of the University of Florence, Verso l’unificazione europea. Most of the chapters have been written by economists who met and discussed their diverse views at a multi-disciplinary conference organized by the Centre in May 2013 under the title The euro and the struggle for the creation of a new global currency: Problems and perspectives in the building of the political, financial and economic foundations of the European federal government. The list of contributors also includes historians as well as European and international law academics. Their essays have been revised on the basis and against the backdrop of an ongoing crisis of both the euro and the whole European project in the last years and months. The volume aims to provide useful data and interpretations to improve knowledge on the euro and the European Union in their economic, historical, juridical and political perspectives.

The 8th Global Conference on Business & Economics was held at the Faculty of Economics of the University of Florence in the month of October 2008. This international conference was sponsored by the International Journal of Business & Economics and the Oxford Journal. Business academics and economists from universities and business schools in fifty different countries around the world (representing every continent) presented their most recent research findings, most of which unpublished. The papers had been selected on the basis of a double blind peer review process carried out by the scientific committee of the conference. They dealt with various areas of business and economics (strategic management, finance, marketing, accounting, business ethics, business law and others), and focused on a range of industrial sectors and services (from the banking sector to the oil industry, from textile production to automobile manufacturing). This monograph consists of a selection of the papers presented at the conference.

This chapter explores the ideas at the heart of Puritanism, examining Tobie Matthew’s early radicalism. Using the controversies over vestments in 1564–6 and the visit of Elizabeth I to the University of Oxford in 1566, the chapter shows that the idea of ‘edification’ became a central principle of Puritanism. This chapter explores the spiritual demands of edifying reform and shows how it drove English Puritans into conflict with the monarch and the Established Church. It demonstrates that Matthew’s Puritanism was rooted in the experience of Marian exiles, and that he drew on their Calvinism and their resistance texts to justify his potentially seditious view of godly magistracy and rebellion.

This chapter looks at the rise of Buddhist museums in contemporary Asia. Curators at private and sometimes explicitly sectarian Buddhist museums have attempted to appeal to a wider audience and have abandoned particular sect’s rituals, liturgies, symbols, and teachings to promote a new vision of Buddhism without borders. This opening up of their collections, as well as the active acquisition of new material, demonstrates a particular type of Buddhist ecumenism – an ecumenism without an agenda. The multiple affective encounters these museums allow create ecumenical environments allow visitors to leisurely experience Buddhist distraction What follows are stories of curators, architects, and monks who favor display over dogma, curiosity over conversion, spectacle over sermon, and leisure over allegiance. Specially, Shi Fa Zhao’s Temple of the Buddha’s Tooth in Singapore, The Ryukoku University (Jodo Shinshu) Museum in Kyoto, and others are compared to Buddhist galleries at museums in Europe and North America.

Chapter 1 analyzes a mid-seventeenth-century pamphlet exchange that suggests how global fantasies infuse writings that on their surface seem little interested in situating England on a world stage. In 1651, William Lilly, the “Christian astrologer,” responded to a Royalist Presbyterian’s pamphlet attack on the Parliamentarian cause. The two authors debated events of their time by exchanging prophecies that depended on the twinned notions of a Christian millennialism in which Christ would become a “universall monarch” over the whole world and of translatio imperii, fidei, and scientiae, the movement of government, faith, and learning from the East to the West. The coda adds an additional voice to the debate, triangulating the exchange between Lilly and the anonymous pamphleteer with a reader whose marginalia are preserved in a copy held by Purdue University. This exchange illustrates the fervor with which millennial ideas were being discussed throughout the seventeenth century.

AbstractThis chapter describes three of the pedagogical frameworks that comprise the Models of Engaged Learning and Teaching (Willison, J. (2017). The Models of Engaged Learning and Teaching (MELT); Willison, J. (2020). The models of engaged learning and teaching: Connecting sophisticated thinking from early childhood to PhD. Springer). Monash University Library (MUL) adopted the MELT to underpin its teaching practice and guide library–faculty teaching collaborations. The MELT include the Research Skill Development (RSD) framework (Willison, J., & O'Regan, K. (2006/2018). Research skill development framework), the Work Skill Development (WSD) framework (Bandaranaike, S., & Willison, J. (2009/2018). Revised by Monash University Library, 2019. Work skill development framework; Revised by Monash University Library 2019) and the Digital Skill Development (DSD) framework (Torres, L., McLeod, A., Yazbeck, B., Rayner, G., Skrbis, M., Yates, S., Dickson, N., & Fulton, H. (2018). Digital skill development framework). The MELT have proved effective and adaptable in a range of disciplines and learning contexts by describing not only what students’ research, work and digital skills are but how they can be explicitly developed as a critical part of learning. Successful application of these models has strengthened and maximised the effectiveness of library–faculty teaching collaborations. This has enabled the library to remain responsive to contemporary skill agendas and as such, catalysed transformative change by repositioning the Library as a key contributor to student learning.

AbstractOver the past few decades, the Malaysian higher education sector has experienced important reform, particularly guided by the Malaysia Education Blueprint for Higher Education 2015–2025 to stimulate continued excellence in the system. However, the dawn of 2020 has unfolded many challenges as COVID-19 rages across the globe bringing sudden paralysis to the whole world. Indeed, the pandemic has affected the world and greatly impacted our lives not only from a health perspective, but also from the political, economic, and social aspects. To date, universities in Malaysia have been closed for more than four months, although the Ministry of Higher Education has recently permitted postgraduate students undertaking full-time research programmes to return to the university should their research necessitate their physical presence in laboratories, workshops, design studios or to use specific equipment available only on campus. For other university students, online or virtual teaching and learning is set to continue until the end of this year, although identified groups of students will be allowed to return to the campus in stages.

The presented contribution analyses – in the context of Jan Zouhar’s research scope and also on the background of the professional interests of the immortalized František Kautman (1927–2016) – the ‘philosophy’ of T. G. Masaryk’s (1850–1937) work. At the beginning, there are new publications on his alleged origin from the family of the Austro-Hungarian monarch, further their fictionalization, the investigation of his late sexual life and, last but not least, the flow of his juvenile correspondence with Zdenka Šemberová (1841–1912). For her, this communication was full of erotic and intellectual hopes which were not fulfilled and led to her lifelong loneliness and resignation, especially after the death of her father Alois Vojtěch Šembera (1807–1882), professor of Vienna Slavonic studies, one of the first opponents of the medieval authenticity of the legendary Czech Manuscripts, all of this on the background of the life of the university and Czech Vienna, where they both lived, and the adjacent Moravia. Masaryk, with his weak knowledge of standard Czech, Šemberová, at that time already a mature lady, record in their correspondence the course of their lives, their opinions, readings, and document their intellectual maturing. Their correspondence represents evidence of the lives of both: Masaryk was gradually becoming a scholar and mainly a politician, and understood their correspondence, from which Zdenka expected also an amorous fulfilment, as a mere practical exercise in stylistics and a confrontation of opinions. Their correspondence throws a new, not always favourable light on the youth of the future Czechoslovak president. Already there, the elementary features of his personality were taking their shapes.

AbstractThe rapid disruptions caused by the Covid-19 pandemic in multiple sectors and areas of daily life provide a unique opportunity to study the university’s capacity to respond to changes in the external environment, to be a learning organization, in service of addressing significant social challenges. In this book we study universities’ responses to one such challenge: the disruption to educational opportunities caused by the interruption of schooling brought about by the pandemic.In response to the Covid-19 pandemic, universities innovated on several fronts. Unsurprisingly, some of those innovations focused on internal actions implemented to mitigate the impact of the pandemic by transitioning to online teaching delivery or extension of semester break, etc. (Crawford J et al. J Appl Learning Teaching 3.1:1–20, 2020; Leon-Garcia F, Cherbowski-Lask A, Leadership responses to COVID 19: a global survey of college and university leadership. International Association of Universities – Santander Universities. IAUP. https://www.iaup.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/IAUP-Santander_Survey_to_COVID-19_Report2020.pdf, 2020). Beyond the solutions to mitigate the pandemic’s impact on their communities of students, faculty, or staff, universities also innovated to mitigate such impact on the larger community. While the contributions of universities to alleviate the pandemic’s impact have been most visible in public health (Daniels, R. J. 2020. Universities’ Vital Role in the Pandemic Response. Hopkins Bloomberg Public Health Magazine. https://magazine.jhsph.edu/2020/universities-vital-role-pandemic-response), they have extended to other areas of relief and support as well. Almost half of universities participating in a global survey conducted by the International Association of Universities indicated that due to the pandemic, their community engagement had increased (Marinoni G et al. The impact of Covid-19 on higher education around the world. IAU global survey report. International Association of Universities, Paris. https://www.iau-aiu.net/IMG/pdf/iau_covid19_and_he_survey_report_final_may_2020.pdf, 2020).This book is a study of one such response of universities to the pandemic which has not yet received sufficient attention: their support of schools at the pre-collegiate level through a variety of innovative approaches to mitigate the impact of the pandemic on opportunity to learn.In this chapter, we argue that studying such innovations provides insight into the responsiveness of universities to complex societal needs and into their capacity to operate as learning organizations open to their external environment. We introduce the study, explain its value in understanding the role and nature of higher education’s outreach, social impact, and capacity to deal with complex challenges, and summarize the chapters of the book and the results of a survey which was administered to over one-hundred universities to study the nature of their collaborations with schools during the first 9 months of the pandemic, between March and December of 2020.

AbstractThe chapter examines the difficult conditions under which states, and municipalities had to struggle to ensure learning continued during the social isolation demanded by the COVID-19 crisis in the country. Although it seemed reasonable to expect that the Federal government would respect the constitution and coordinate the educational response to the pandemic, that simply did not happen. The Minister of Education did not consider that such a responsibility should be carried out at the federal level. In the absence of leadership from the central government, the two organizations that congregate subnational secretaries decided to support their members and promote the exchange of practices, with some support from civil society organizations. Through the think tank established by the senior author of this chapter at a private university, CEIPE- Center for Excellence and Innovation in Education Policies, at the Getúlio Vargas Foundation, she participated in this effort, mentoring state and municipal level secretaries in their efforts to provide distance learning through a combination of media, such as TV, radio, and digital platforms. The chapter includes her own anecdotal observations of this national effort, drawing on interviews with secretaries and their teams as well as documents related to the experience as the evidence basis of the chapter. Unfortunately, this is not a story of triumph, since Brazil has been one of the countries with more months of schools being completely or partially closed. In addition to the ineffective approach to fighting the disease, which made Brazil’s rate of infection and deaths much worse than many countries in Latin America, the fact that mayoral elections coincided with COVID-19, introduced political reasons for schools to remain closed. The final part of the chapter draws lessons learned and discusses future possibilities for the future of education in Brazil.

As a consequence of the worldwide COVID crisis in 2020, the CEO of Microsoft, Satya Nadella, concluded in April 2020 that ‘We saw two years of digital transformation in two months’. Digital technologies are helping us to find new ways of working together, enabling easier access and sharing of knowledge, providing us with new ways to overcome traditional barriers to innovation such as the physical time and space that different players occupy. The technologies provide opportunities for teams who are remote from physical assets to both benefit from them and to help drive their development. Ultimately, they are helping us to better exploit the world’s collective brainpower and connect us with the world-leading expertise of specific individuals.

Peppy Dennett and Bill Kinsey spent three months at Syracuse University in training for their teaching assignment in Africa. Their time at Syracuse is discussed, especially the content of the training program. Bill was scheduled for a post in Malawi, so he needed a transfer to allow the marriage and joint posting in Tanzania. Peppy’s mother opposed the marriage at first; she was appalled at the quick decision to wed. She relented and pulled everything together for a wedding, and they were married a few days before leaving for Africa. Peppy’s sister and Peppy’s friends describe their reaction on their first and only meeting with Bill before the couple left for Africa: “We hardly knew him.”

We review the processes and tools we use to help achieve a consistent and high-quality learning environment for our students and a pleasant and productive working environment for our faculty. Our Cornerstone courses have multiple instructors, who meet weekly, along with the development faculty for the course; we are extending this model to upper-division (sophomore year and above) courses as we grow. Extensive use of a real-time chat tool ("Slack") facilitates tight synchronization, knowledge-sharing, and team-building among our geographically distributed team. Full faculty meetings and a faculty advisory committee provide additional channels for higher-level strategic direction. The substance of the exchanges provided in these communication channels spans content, pedagogy, classroom management, and grading support. Before they begin teaching, a one-month orientation course helps all new faculty develop working relationships, become comfortable with the unique Minerva pedagogy and the digital tools we use for development, assessment, and instruction.

What was it like to be a junior faculty member and longtime SED supporter under the Honecker regime? “I had a place secured, a paved road before me,” came the answer, as if from a great distance. “You—you’ve spent your whole life competing. We haven’t. My career track was clear—Dozent, then Professor, then Ordinarius. In time, if I were reasonably productive, it would have all been there. Now, no university in Germany will have me. Probably I’ll have to emigrate. That’s the only way to escape everyone forever asking me what I did in the Party and why I did it.” On a cold, drizzling, smoggy Leipzig afternoon in December 1990, Jürgen, a wissenschaftlicher Assistent (lecturer) in political science, sits in a dingy, secondfloor cafe a few blocks from the Karl-Marx Universität, telling me in a low voice about his life as a Party activist and organizer at the University. Authorities have just announced that several departments—among them law, political science, journalism, and M-L, will soon be shut down; Jürgen expects to be released in six months. He has spent the last 10 years at the oldest university in eastern Germany, widely regarded as the second-leading DDR university after Humboldt University of East Berlin. Talk has been buzzing that Humboldt could soon be closed down altogether, since united Berlin doesn’t need a rival to the Free University—and since old Cold Warriors at the FU have hardly forgotten being driven from Humboldt in the late ’40s. Such a scenario would leave the Karl-Marx Universität the top university in the east. But Jürgen’s mind is elsewhere. Academic politics holds little interest for him now; it all seems curiously irrelevant. Abwicklung is the order of the day in Leipzig, a city of 560,000, the second largest in eastern Germany. Those who served the Karl-Marx Universität in “ideologically burdened” departments, or who held Party offices, or who had contact with the Stasi, will probably not retain their positions.

This chapter focuses on the courtship and early days of marriage of Anna Botsford and John Henry Comstock. It was soon after he was made Assistant Professor of Entomology at Cornell University, that Henry spent a holiday vacation at Anna's home. They had a happy visit, but there was no engagement to announce until several months later. They were becoming very well acquainted and the companionship on which their marriage was based was steadily becoming closer and more important to them both. Anna and Henry were then wed on October of 1878. The chapter describes their home, Fall Creek Cottage, and their amusing housekeeping incidents. At this period, Cornell University was a small institution and the faculty families were very friendly. Despite housework and visitors, both Anna and Henry found time for intellectual pursuits.

ESA Academy is the European Space Agency’s overarching educational programme for university students. It takes them through a learning path that complements their academic education by offering a tailored transfer of space knowledge and interaction with space professionals. As a result, students can enhance their skills, boost their motivation and ambitions, and become acquainted with the standard professional practices in the space sector. This happens through the two pillars of ESA Academy, the Training and Learning Programme and the Hands-on Programmes. The latter enables university students to gain first-hand, end-to-end experience of space-related projects. One of the latest additions to the portfolio of opportunities for university students is “Orbit Your Thesis!”. It offers bachelor, master, and PhD students the opportunity to design, build, test, and operate their experiment onboard the International Space Station. The experiment operates within the ICE Cubes Facility in ESA’s Columbus module, where it can operate for up to four months in microgravity. Throughout the programme students develop essential scientific, academic, and professional skills that will help them build their future careers. These skills include project management, risk identification and mitigation, problem-solving, and working within a diverse workplace. Participating teams will experience first-hand the project management process for space missions and participate in multiple reviews of their experiment and design throughout the programme. Participating students are supported and guided through the process by engineers and scientists from ESA, Space Applications Services, and members of the European Low Gravity Research Association. The programme schedule follows a similar path to many space-faring projects. The design, development, testing, launch preparation and operations are structured in a series of project phases and technical reviews. Participating teams are guided towards the subsequent milestones to pass the necessary safety reviews and achieve launch readiness. The first team that successfully sent up their ICE Cube is OSCAR-QUBE, a multidisciplinary team from the University of Hasselt in Belgium. Their experiment is the first diamond-based quantum magnetometer that ever operated in space. Thanks to the unique characteristics of their sensor, they have been mapping the Earth’s magnetic field from inside the Columbus module aboard the ISS without the need to be housed on the exterior. This paper will describe the various phases and technical aspects of the programme in more detail

To identify genetic and antigenic variation in RV in response to vaccine usage. Methods: A total of 231 RV-positive fecal samples were collected from children suffering from AGE during three-year study period between June 2016 and June 2019. The age of the subjects ranged between 2 months and 14 years (median of 16 months). RV genotyping and neutralizing regions, which include both VP4 (Ptype) and VP7 (G type), were amplified and sequenced. We characterized amino acid sequence variability and predicted antigenicity compared to the Rotarix vaccine strain. Phylogenetic analyses were performed using MEGA7.0. Fisher’s exact test was used to run the statistical analysis for the clinical and demographical characteristics of circulating strains. Results: RV infection was most common in children between 3-36 months of age. Among the RV-positive cases, 135 (59.3%) had been vaccinated using either of the RV vaccines available. The number of children vaccinated with one and two-dose was 53 (39.2%) and 82 (60.8%), respectively. The percentage reduction of disease in a vaccinated group of pediatrics compared to an unvaccinated group of pediatrics was 25%. Of these, 108 (78.2%) experienced diarrhea for less than three days, and only eight (6.7%) had diarrhea for more than five days. All vaccinated children showed mild to moderate dehydration except for ten children who were then treated with intravenous fluids. G3 strains were the most strains detected (40%) followed by G2 (17.7%), G4 (16.8%), G9 (15%), G1 (9%), and G8 (0.9%). The dominant RV strains during the study period were G3P [8] (30.8%), G2P [8] (12.3%), G4P [8] (11.7%) and G1P[8] (10.4%). Comparisons of the amino acid residues defining the VP7 and VP4 antigenic domains revealed several mismatches between G1P [8] strains and the G1 and P [8] strains contained in the currently licensed rotavirus vaccines Rotarix. Eighty percent (n=8) of the G1 genotype specimens harbored three amino acid substitutions (N94S, S123N, and M217T) in 7‐ 1a and 7‐ 2b antigenic sites in comparison to the Rotarix vaccine. The P [8] strains with G4 and G9 counterparts showed the highest degree of variation among all specimens with known G genotype. These viruses had 15 and 13 substitutions in their VP4 antigenic epitopes when compared with the P [8] component of the Rotarix vaccines. Conclusion: This study suggests genetic variability in G1 genotype specimens to escape the vaccine-derived immune response. It also identified the wide diversity of circulating RV genotypes in Qatar.

Software Engineering capstone projects have been running successfully since 2002 for the final year software engineering (SE) students of the Bachelor of Software Engineering (BSE) Program at Monash University, accredited by Engineers Australia and Australian Computer Society. Agile methods are being increasingly adopted in the industry. In this paper, we describe the objectives of SE capstone projects and report on how our innovative projects for supporting the software engineering projects in undergraduate programs at Monash University have evolved and have been scaled up to support agile SE capstone projects. We detail the evolution from our early innovative software engineering projects in the mid 1990s that have served as catalysts for more innovation in the early 2000, and for scaling up agile SE projects with increasing central technical infrastructure support from the School. More recently, we have adapted our approach with a combination of open-source and commercial tools under academic licence for developing and deploying these projects effectively with agile distributed teams. The paper concludes with a discussion on lessons learnt from our innovative projects in the mid 1990s and from the evolution in scaling up to agile practices for the SE capstone projects from 2002-2008.

Year 2020 has introduced massive changes in the teaching and learning in traditional classroom settings all around the world as due to the abrupt outbreak of COVID-19 pandemic, schools had to introduce remote learning systems and the amount of students’ independent workload increased exponentially. Self-regulated learning plays a crucial role in the learning process, and it is even more significant in remote learning as external regulation is low. The aim of this research was to study students’ self-evaluation on self-regulation processes during remote learning caused by the second wave of COVID-19 pandemic in autumn 2020. This paper presents results of a case study at a secondary school in Latvia. Over a period of two months regular surveys were carried out to investigate students’ opinion on their metacognitive, motivational and behavioural processes during remote learning. Results were analysed to determine the overall situation, changes over time and differences between distinctive students’ groups. Results reveal that 10–12th grade students are more self-rigorous when evaluating their performance than 7–9th graders. It is also evident that girls have better self-regulation skills than boys but seem to neglect their own needs more than boys. These and other results point to the need for customized support to different student groups during remote learning in order to provide all students with an appropriate learning environment.

In the framework of the Coral Management Plan for the North Field Expansion Project (NFE) and North Field Production Sustainability Project (NFPS), Qatargas has partnered with the Environmental Science Center (ESC) to develop the first land-based coral nursery in Qatar. This nursery plan includes the extraction of 1000 corals’ colonies from the NFPS and NFE pipeline corridors, north of Ras Laffan, and hence their transportation to the nursery facility, rehabilitation under controlled husbandry conditions, fragmentation, out-plantation to carefully selected recipient sites and long-term monitoring (up to 48 months). The first two batches of 200 corals were extracted in March and outplanted in April 2021. Results of the first two monitoring events, after 44 and 66 days, were quite encouraging for the seven coral genera tested. Attachment success was very high, with 92% to 97% of the outplanted fragments being detected during monitoring. No bleaching, disease or mortality was recorded so far. The coral propagation methods used in this project (i.e., fragmentation, husbandry and outplanting), although widely used, have been tested with a restricted number of branching coral species and usually in in-situ nurseries. Our project is among the first to apply this type of approach (land-based nursery) to reef restoration in the Arabian Gulf.

The need for enhanced engagement of school students for better behavioral outcomes in line with scientific learning and acquisition of science process skills have continually incited educators to strategize innovative teaching approaches. Meanwhile, innovations and research from the scientific community has consistently been prioritized, demanding highly skilled STEM labor in the global market, henceforth challenging educators to brace the next generation with high proficiency in STEM fields. The research study focuses on an out of school approach that caters to the industrial demands in STEM workforce, henceforth acquainting the high school students with research methodology for improving their technical efficiency and intellectual capacity in problem solving and critical thinking. The study program was conducted on 208 students from public schools in Qatar, who participated in 68 research projects, each project being engaged by a group students during a period of 2 months at Qatar University research laboratories. The performance of participants were analyzed by mixed methods implementing both quantitative data based on questionnaires and qualitative data based on feedback interviews from research mentors, schoolteachers and the participant students. The results of the program yielded positive outcomes from the stakeholders as the school students gained competences exhibited by under-graduate or graduate students like research self-efficacy, research skills and aspirations for scientific careers, accomplishing the objectives of the program. This study program henceforth was successful in bridging the gap between high school and university, as the participant students had an advantage in confidence over their peers in university laboratories and technical writing assignments.

An online course can offer limitless opportunities to expand one’s knowledge, develop skills and competences and, meanwhile, combine one’s online learning journey with a real-world activity, also studies in the case of university students. To manage all, the use of time for the productivity and achievement is crucial. The paper discusses the time management and performance of university students, future English language teachers in particular, taking an online course. A case study was carried out, and teacher education students, who participated in an online course on Learning Technologies and Content and Language Integrated Learning (CLIL), were questionnaired to explore their time management strategies and performance during their five-month online study period. The reflections of the online course moderators were collected to triangulate the data and find out their opinion on students’ time management habits and performance quality; besides, the differences between their expectations and reality were examined. Findings suggest that students’ time management was considerably challenged, and the set amount of time, i.e. one week to accomplish one module and its related assignments, required advanced planning and change of study habits to achieve the aims and objectives of their online learning process.

Introduction:Internationally, eight out of ten children are exposed to violent discipline by their caregivers. To reduce the prevalence of violent discipline against children, we should understand the social and economic factors that affect the choice of disciplinary methods. Despite the high prevalence of violent discipline in the Middle East and North African (MENA) region, only a few studies explored disciplinary methods in this region. Aim: This study aims to determine the prevalence of positive and violent disciplinary practices in five selected MENA countries and assess their association with household head education and beliefs of physical punishment. Methods: This is a cross-sectional study design based on available secondary data from the Multiple Indicator Cluster Survey on its fourth round (MICS-4). A child was selected randomly from the household, and the Parent-Child Conflict Scale (CTSPC) tool was used to report disciplinary methods the child encountered during the last month period preceding the survey. Univariate and multivariable logistic regression were used to investigate the association between disciplinary practices with household head education and respondent's beliefs of physical punishment. The analysis was conducted using pooled data from all selected surveys and also for individual countries. Result: The overall prevalence of positive discipline was only 15% (95% CI: 14.4-15.8), in the five countries, while the prevalence of violent discipline was 80% (95% CI: 79.0 -80.5). The prevalence of positive discipline was highest in Qatar (40%; 95% CI: 35.0-44.4) and lowest in Tunisia (5%; 95% CI: 4.3-5.9) while the prevalence of violent discipline was highest in Tunisia (93%; 95% CI: 92.1-94.1), and lowest in Qatar (50%; 95% CI: 44.7-55.0). Overall, the household head education was not significantly associated with either positive or violent discipline after adjusting for covariates. However, respondents believe of disciplinary methods was significantly associated with both positive and violent discipline (OR=5.88; 95% CI: 4.97-6.96) and (OR=6.27; 95% CI: 5.40-7.28), respectively. Conclusion: High rates of violent discipline in the MENA region might indicate an increase in mental, behavioral, and social problems and disorders in our future generation. Rapid action is needed to reduce the worsening of violent discipline, and it is consequences. There is a need for educational programs for caregivers to teach them alternative non-violent methods of discipline. Besides, these numbers should inform policymakers about the importance of the existence and the implementations of laws, policies, and regulations to protect children from all forms of violence to protect our future youths and ensure their health and wellbeing.

This quantitative exploratory study, a continuation of the university’s four year research initiative that addresses the high national rate of doctoral student attrition, investigates whether a private online workspace for doctoral students and their dissertation committee will enhance communication and reduce learner’s feelings of isolation during the dissertation phase. Private doctoral workspaces provide a virtual platform for learner and committee collaboration, manuscript review, and milestone planning. The purpose of this study is to offer preliminary feedback to guide in the further development of the virtual workspace. To assess effectiveness of the private doctoral workspace, a seven question online survey was created to address usage, communication, and isolation. Two surveys were distributed to 803 doctoral candidates at a private southwestern university in the United States, resulting in 328 respondents for the first survey, and 190 respondents for the second survey. Doctoral learners completed the survey at the onset of the private doctoral workspace implementation, and again four months later. The results indicate that doctoral learners regularly access their private dissertation workspace, communicate more frequently with their dissertation committee, and have reduced feelings of isolation. These results may provide similar benefits to other academic groups working together on long-term projects in other disciplines.

Monarch Route was a university award-winning project, having won the Premios Latinoamerica Verde in 2018. The project followed a research-based methodology and implemented a vertically integrated collaboration which included 181 undergraduate students; the entire student body enrolled in the Sustainable Development Engineering course of the Tec de Monterrey, Campus Santa Fe, in 2017. It was conducted in conjunction with the Fundación Nacional para la Conservación del Hábitat Boscoso de la Mariposa Monarca A.C. (FUNACOMM) so as to stop and revert the extinction of the monarch butterfly and at the same time promote benefits for the rural communities found throughout the migratory route of this species. The purpose of this work is to inspire the academic community to design successful projects which develop transverse and disciplinary competences. The project answered the following research question: What are the learning outcomes from participating in a project with real life impacts, working in a vertical and horizontal collaboration system? Using a mixed methodology, we describe the details of the implementation and learning outcomes. The Monarch Route project intrinsically motivated the students since it allowed them to collaborate, vertically and horizontally, in a socially relevant project, as well as having the choice and control over their education. By means of a text analysis of 22 final remarks of participating students, it was evident that they were able to recognize environmental, conservation and sustainable development problems and analyze their impact, in addition to being aware of the social aspects associated to them, and above all, recognize the link of these type of projects with their professional life and their social commitment to Mexico. Keywords: vertically integrated project, self-regulated learning, Research-based methodology, text analysis, sustainability, higher education, educational innovation

After graduating from university, Warda struggled a lot. For a few years, she had to take odd jobs for that had no security, days off or health insurance. Eventually she connected with Youth Participation and Employment (YPE) programme partner Casal Del Infants. With their support, she successfully entered the formal labour market. She was selected by Casal to join a jobs programme, where she was trained for one month as a quality control officer. After completing her training, she obtained a placement in maintenance at an automotive company. This was facilitated through Casal’s ‘Activa Counter’, its employment integration desk. This programme supports internships and helps young people to integrate into the private sector. The programme has gained in popularity over the years and has the potential to help many young people into work.

This research project was performed in context of the apparent probiotic effect of selected lactic acid bacteria (LAB) silage inoculants on the performance of ruminants (improved feed intake, faster live-weight gain, higher milk yields and improved feed efficiency). The overall objective was to find out how LAB affect ruminant performance. The project included several “chapters” as follows: 1. The effect of LAB silage inoculants on the survival of detrimental bacteria in rumen fluid, in vitro study (Weinberg et al., The Volcani Center). An in vitro model was developed to study the interaction between selected LAB and an E. coli strain tagged with green fluorescence protein (GFP) in buffered RF. Results indicated that both LAB inoculants and E. coli survived in the RF for several days; both LAB inoculants and LAB-treated silages did not affect survival of E. coli in rumen fluid in vitro. The effect of feeding baled wheat silages treated with or without three selected LAB silage inoculants on the performance of high-lactating cows (Weinberg et al., The Volcani Center). Treatments included control (no additive), Lacobacillusbuchneri40788 (LB), Lactobacillus plantarumMTD1 40027 (LP) and Pediococcuspentosaceus30168 (PP), each applied at 10⁶ cfu/g FM. The silages were included in the TMR of 32 high milking Holstein cows in a controlled feeding experiment. All baled silages were of good quality. The LB silage had the numerically highest acetic acid and were the most stable upon aerobic exposure. The cows fed the LB silages had the highest daily milk yields, percent milk fat and protein. The microbiome of baled wheat silages and changes during ensiling of wheat and corn (Sela et al., The Volcani Center). Bacterial community of the baled silages was dominated mainly of two genera in total, dominated by Lactobacillus and Clostridium_sensu_stricto_12 with 300 other genera at very low abundance. Fungal community was composed mainly of two genera in total, dominated by Candida and Monascuswith 20 other genera at very low abundance. In addition, changes in the microbiome during ensiling of wheat and corn with and without addition of L. plantarumMTD1 was studied in mini-silos. Overall 236 bacterial genera were identified in the fresh corn but after 3 months Lactobacillus outnumbered all other species by acquiring 95% of relative abundance. The wheat silage samples are still under analysis. The effect of applying LAB inoculants at ensiling on survival of E. coli O157:H7 in alfalfa and corn silages(Adesogan et al., University of Florida). E. coli (10⁵ cfu/g) was applied to fresh alfalfa and corn at ensiling with or without L. plantarumor L. buchneri. The pathogen was added again after about 3 moths at the beginning of an aerobic exposure period. The inoculants resulted in faster decrease in pH as compared with the control (no additives) or E. coli alone and therefore, the pathogen was eliminated faster from these silages. After aerobic exposure the pathogen was not detected in the LAB treated silages, whereas it was still present in the E. coli alone samples. 5. The effect of feeding corn silage treated with or without L. buchnerion shedding of E. coli O157:H7 by dairy cows (Adesogan et al., UFL). BARD Report - Project 4704 Page 2 of 12 Five hundred cows from the dairy herd of the University of Florida were screened for E. coli shedding, out of which 14 low and 13 high shedders were selected. These cows were fed a total mixed ration (TMR) which was inoculated with E. coli O157:H7 for 21 days. The TMR included corn silage treated with or without L. buchneri. The inoculated silages were more stable upon aerobic exposure than the control silages; the silage inoculant had no significant effect on any milk or cow blood parameters. However, the silage inoculant tended to reduce shedding of E. coli regardless of high or low shedders (p = 0.06). 6. The effect of feeding baled wheat silages treated with or without three selected LAB silage inoculants on the rumen microbiome (Mizrahi et al., BGU). Rumen fluid was sampled throughout the feeding experiment in which inoculated wheat silages were included in the rations. Microbial DNA was subsequently purified from each sample and the 16S rRNA was sequenced, thus obtaining an overview of the microbiome and its dynamic changes for each experimental treatment. We observed an increase in OTU richness in the group which received the baled silage inoculated with Lactobacillus Plantarum(LP). In contrast the group fed Lactobacillus buchneri(LB) inoculated silage resulted in a significant decrease in richness. Lower OTU richness was recently associated in lactating cows with higher performance (Ben Shabatet al., 2016). No significant clustering could be observed between the different inoculation treatments and the control in non metric multi-dimentional scaling, suggesting that the effect of the treatments is not the result of an overall modulation of the microbiome composition but possibly the result of more discrete interactions. Significant phylum level changes in composition also indicates that no broad changes in taxa identity and composition occurred under any treatment A more discrete modulation could be observed in the fold change of several taxonomic groups (genus level analysis), unique to each treatment, before and after the treatment. Of particular interest is the LB treated group, in which several taxa significantly decreased in abundance. BARD Report - Project 4704 Page 3 of 12

Climate change will increase weather induced risks to forests, and thus effective adaptation measures are needed. In Säätyö project funded by the Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry, we have summarized the data that facilitate adaptation measures, developed weather and climate services that benefit forestry, and mapped what kind of new weather and climate services are needed in forestry. In addition, we have recorded key further development needs to promote adaptation. The Säätyö project developed a service product describing the harvesting conditions of trees based on the soil moisture assessment. The output includes an analysis of the current situation and a 10-day forecast. In the project we also tested the usefulness of long forecasts beyond three months. The weather forecasting service is sidelined and supplemented by another co-operation project between the Finnish Meteorological Institute and Metsäteho called HarvesterSeasons (https://harvesterseasons.com/). The HarvesterSeasons service utilizes long-term forecasts of up to 6 months to assess terrain bearing conditions. A test version of a wind damage risk tool was developed in cooperation with the Department of Forest Sciences of the University of Eastern Finland and the Finnish Meteorological Institute. It can be used to calculate the wind speeds required in a forest area for wind damage (falling trees). It is currently only suitable for researcher use. In the Säätyö project the possibility of locating the most severe wind damage areas immediately after a storm was also tested. The method is based on the spatial interpolation of wind observations. The method was used to analyze storms that caused forest damages in the summer and fall of 2020. The produced maps were considered illustrative and useful to those responsible for compiling the situational picture. The accumulation of snow on tree branches, can be modeled using weather data such as rainfall, temperature, air humidity, and wind speed. In the Säätyö project, the snow damage risk assessment model was further developed in such a way that, in addition to the accumulated snow load amount, the characteristics of the stand and the variations in terrain height were also taken into account. According to the verification performed, the importance of abiotic factors increased under extreme snow load conditions (winter 2017-2018). In ordinary winters, the importance of biotic factors was emphasized. According to the comparison, the actual snow damage could be explained well with the tested model. In the interviews and workshop, the uses of information products, their benefits, the conditions for their introduction and development opportunities were mapped. According to the results, diverse uses and benefits of information products and services were seen. Information products would make it possible to develop proactive forest management, which would reduce the economic costs caused by wind and snow damages. A more up-to-date understanding of harvesting conditions, enabled by information products, would enhance the implementation of harvesting and harvesting operations and the management of timber stocks, as well as reduce terrain, trunk and root damage. According to the study, the introduction of information is particularly affected by the availability of timeliness. Although the interviewees were not currently willing to pay for the information products developed in the project, the interviews highlighted several suggestions for the development of information products, which could make it possible to commercialize them.